an orange afterglow

Work continues to press close, choking out most of the day and leaving an orange afterglow around my mind well into the evenings.

Today at work I decided to limit the iPod’s shuffle to all Velvet Underground. Sometimes, the alternate fey and noisy qualities of their “heroin rock” is just what the doctor ordered. As I indulged I remembered back to my first experience with the Underground. I imagine I was introduced to them in much the same way that most folks my age were – by picking up the soundtrack to the 1991 biographical movie about The Doors. Remember the scene where Morrison meets Warhol at the party? The song “Heroin” is playing in the background and, at the time, it was an odd a piece of music as I’d ever heard. I can remember it playing a large role in my pre-drugs teenage romanticizing of drug use. The song seemed to flaunt the fact that it was made to hear while one was wasted… and I felt like I was missing out. Anyway… it’s more than drug music, and it was a good backdrop to my hectic day.

Tonight after putting Keaton to bed she called out from her bedroom, “Mom, when I get older and I’m a mom, what will you be?” Sharaun chuckled and answered, “When you’re a mom I’ll be a grandmother. I’ll be your babies’ grandmother.” “Oh,” she replied thoughtfully, “Then I’ll have to cook food!” Sometimes I wonder what thoughts spur these kind of questions. She must really be laying in there thinking about the things that’ll happen to her when she grows up. Earlier that night she told me that her friend Jake was her “best friend” because when she grows up she’s “going to marry him.” I can remember being a kid and looking at adulthood as something so foreign; purely incomprehensible from my then standpoint, like trying to imagine what it’s like to be dead or a monkey or a woman. It must be super abstract to a four year old.

The baby growing in Sharaun’s stomach is a super active one. She says he’s moving and turning and punching and kicking and doing all sorts of comfort-impairing things inside her all the time. Keaton has grown quite attached to her swollen belly, kissing it and resting her hand on it and even talking into it to her coming baby brother. Sharaun and her have “decided” on a name they like and have adopted using it even in utero. I, on the other hand, am yet to be 100% convinced of the viability of the name and thus am the sole detractor amongst the family. This puts me in the “stubborn” category as far as Sharaun is concerned… but I’m not on the same wavelength this time around. “Keaton” was a slam-dunk, and I’m kind of hoping for repeat in finding another name we both immediately gravitate to. We’ll see.

Goodnight.


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