tiny little shoes

Wash up.
Florida, I always feel relaxed here. The air feels cleaner, I can tell almost immediately – as inhale that first lungfull walking down the jetway. Maybe it’s the humidity that just gives the air a different breathing quality, I don’t know. Florida just makes me feel “slowed down,” better paced – simply not so rushed. Related to this, I’ve decided that I’m not gonna put myself on any rigorous writing schedule, but rather will write as I have time. May make for a spotty week, but that’s the way it goes. At least the in-laws finally broke down and got broadband and wireless…

Well, as the top indie rags begin to eke out their 2005 best-of lists, I’ve been watching with a keen eye – plotting ans scheming to find myself some new tunes I may have formerly forsaken. My number one album discovered this way so far is the Andrew Bird LP I first mentioned Friday. It’s great, I’d recommend listening to this haunting track to get an idea of what to expect if you’re considering this one. Finding an album like this really isn’t the norm for me though, there are definitely albums that seem to be scored consistently high on most lists that I just can’t get into, even after several tries. The warbley Anthony and the Johnstons is one, and I’m still not convinced the Okkervil River or latest Spoon are really worth all the fuss. But seriously, this Andrew Bird effort is exceptional.

Sharaun’s friends gave her a surprise baby shower, our first day in Florida. Seeing these little outfits, with their tiny little shoes and super-soft fabrics, it’s beginning to all sink in. People have said that it never really seems “real” until the moment you hold your new baby in your arms. I believe that, because it still seems all a bit unreal to me right now – even holding these miniature shoes in the palm of one hand, it’s still just a movement in my wife’s belly that we talk to and think about. It’s hard to “love” something you’ve never seen, what I do feel right now is more of this protectionist thing – overly concerned about my wife’s wellbeing and safety. Inside that vessel is something I can’t wait to see, so I suppose it makes sense to want to shelter it. Anyway, I’ve come to the conclusion that baby showers are great. I enjoy sifting through the resulting loot probably as much as Sharaun does. Baby monitors, diaper bags, bottles with little rubber nipples, pink blankets and floaty bath toys. I tell you, a guy could really get into this.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about what I want my daughter’s “first song” to be. I never had a “first song,” but my friend Kyle’s dad remembered what song was playing in the car when they brought him home from the hospital – and I always liked the idea of knowing that. In my case, I’d like to choose the song and have it ready to do. I’ve been thinking about what that should be. Sure, Beatles may be obvious, given my history… but I’m actually thinking I may go more obscure. Is it selfish to want to make it one of my favorite tracks of all time? It’s gotta be something quiet, softish I think, maybe something acoustic. I think to myself that I’d like it to be some selection from one of my favorite albums of all time, but then I remember that I’ve never really sat down and tried to rank all-time best albums – and I’m back to thumbing through my mental rolodex. We’ll see, I’m sure I’ll figure something out before the time comes.

Goodnight folks, until later on.

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2 Replies to “tiny little shoes”

  1. They’re going to be piping Muzak through the hospital, so your baby’s actual first song is going to be a sterile version of either George Michael or Men at Work. Sorry.

  2. Sharaun has already conditioned Little Chino to crave the sugar sweet bubble gum pop sounds of the Britster, JT, and In Sync. There’s no way your indie emo noise is going to stand a chance against 98 degrees. Unless you want the baby crying all the way home from the hospital you had better let her pick the first song.

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