Letters to Jeremy

January 10th, 2012

2012-01-10T18:28:00.000-08:00

Dear Jeremy,

2012 has arrived! All fearing the Aztecs should start packing up their gear for the ominous apocalypse that undoubtedly is going to drop upon our heads some 11 months hence. Until then though, we gotta keep living in the here and now. I must apologize for my lack of full length and regular correspondence with you, as I have been under quite a bit of hectic stress these past six months.

I started a position at a charter school in Brooklyn in mid august, which incidentally, you might notice is about the time these letters fell short of the usually sporadic delivery. The commute to the school was laborious and the rigors of the job proved to be quite an undertaking.

During that time I was under quite a bit of duress, and found that the expectations set for me were often shifty, unclear, or impossible. I can only speak for myself of course, as I had a number of colleagues who were able to get along swimmingly there. While there was a tension beneath the surface, many of the other teachers were able to make a go of it under in a situation that supervised by fear in an environment that appeared to be invented on a week-by-week basis.

As I’m sure you can gather from the context, we are here in 2012 and I am not longer at that school. Through a series of abusive entanglements I met an end of employment there that has been, on paper, described as “no fault”; I myself have been describing that end as “philosophical differences”. Regardless of the nature of the change, in the end I would not allow myself to be bullied, tortured, and made to feel inferior. Unfortunately this means we have fallen on some tough economic tides. The bright spot is that I have found some work in a beautiful school district in Long Island. It is a wonderful opportunity, however the function I am in is not equal to the function I was filling and, as is fitting, I am not compensated at the same rate.

On that note I was able to secure an adjunct professorship at Metropolitan College of New York for the spring semester. This is a dream come true because, believe it or not your father has lofty aspirations of being a stodgy old professor. One step at a time and slowly we’ll achieve. While our home situation is tighter than a noose, I have faith in our ability as a family to pull ourselves up by the bootstraps and do what we have to. In a bad market for teaching I was able to secure two jobs in the field—and while they don’t quite make the difference of the money I was making before it just goes to illustrate what your mother and I will no doubt be telling you all your life: there is always work if you are willing to find it.

This brings me to an interesting point. When my employment at the charter school ended, I reluctantly went to sign up for unemployment benefits. I was fairly certain that I would be able to collect because, here I was: unemployed, actively looking for work, with a mortgage to pay, and mouths to feed. Imagine my surprise and horror to find that I was ineligible. Luckily, I was able to find work within a few days of that news. This made me think terribly though. I was in a distraught position…I couldn’t fathom how an educated person with responsibilities, who made all the right choices in life, and always paid his taxes could find himself in such a situation. I wasn’t looking to unduly abuse the system, nor was I looking for a hand out. What criteria did I actually have to fit in order to collect? I couldn’t say for certain.

I went to the library shortly after being released from my position and took out Alan Moore’s V for Vendetta. The imagery of Guy Fawkes masks in confluence of my sudden drop into the 99% seemed very appealing to me. I felt, not a complete kindred awareness with the Occupy Wall Street Movement, but certainly many of the factors that contributed to their genesis. Guy Fawkes masks abound and all that.

In addition to the position at the school I was able to secure a paying gig at one of the better High Schools in the country, only not as a head teacher. While this is a little discouraging I prefer to look at it as an amazing opportunity. Not to sound cliché but when one door closes, another opens—albeit slowly. So here I was, a man who was out of work in a bad economy, with hiring freezes on, and through quick networking and searching was able to find two jobs.

I started wondering about the different factors that contributed to this—in such a bad market, a bad economy, the Great Recession. Without a doubt, my education played a role. I wouldn’t have the credentials to work in a school—excessively qualified or not—without my Master’s Degree. Secondly, having good relationships in school and work helped me because I was able to tap those networks in order to speak with administrators who were able to help me. Something nagged me in the back of my mind though. Something that my background in American Urban Studies and experiences growing up could let me over look.

Passing as white.

Even though my last name is Melendez, I often wonder how far “passing as white” gets me. As you well know I do not consider myself to be white. As a Jew I would never have been traditionally considered white, and the blanching of Jews in American culture—while still only mostly concrete in developed urban areas—really only came about in the past 80 years in the United States with the increased number of collegiate Americans. As Puerto Ricans, our family is brown but not dark; and if the plot of West Side Story is any indication of the general feeling of Americans that doesn’t make me white either. I do, however, present as some kind of white ethnic person—most often I am mistaken for or presumed Italian until my last name comes up.

I have been wondering if perhaps my education in balance with my ethnic last name and my passing-white-visage created something of a perfect storm for my relatively quick re-employment. It certainly didn’t help me any with the social services offices that seemed to almost demand by their formulaic questions that I be uneducated, destitute, and darkly hued. It mattered little that we were on the brink of defaulting on the mortgage, teetering on a zero balance, and on the threshold of hunger. We walked in that social services office and they told us our cars were too new for our kids to be hungry. So, I can only wonder if the same first glance helped me to attain a job. It begs the question about the justifications of affirmative action. I’ve never taken much of a stance on affirmative action because I have never experienced the issue that it seeks to remedy.

I’ve had conversations with highly education African Americans about the topic, and its justifications; about the rally to create and equal playing field. I always wonder how equitable a quota is. In abstraction of race issues, I think most would agree that the best suited for a job is the one best qualified, but what criterion allow for the best qualified to become so accredited? What obstacles lie in the way of those who may have better abilities, but not proper support and motivation? What role does the society play to leverage that out? Is it proper to stack decks in one direction or the other or should the world assign itself to a more Ayn Rand kind of “cream rising to the top” libertarian view?

Logic, in abstraction of the human conditions of fear, xenophobia, racism, and prejudice do dictate to me that the best credentialed should be given work. That logic, when complicated by the downfall of humanity makes it difficult to ascertain if credential is, in fact, equal to skill, talent, and ability. I think not—but what else can an employer judge by in the hiring process? It’s all very tricky, very slippery, very controversial. Regardless, we didn’t get food stamps, welfare, unemployment, or any kind of assistance but I was able to find two jobs that don’t nearly make the difference of the money I was making before. It’s for the best. I don’t want to get caught in the trap of being on assistance and getting complacent (not that everyone on assistance does, I’m just saying I don’t want to get caught in it). I’m not afraid to work, and luck and perseverance had it that I am privileged enough to continue doing so.

So we will struggle. But we will make it. Our family is strong. Our love is strong. And my back is strong. People may say that situations like these are why we should have waited to start a family and buy a house but I say to that “Fuck you”. Its best for my kids and my ability to raise them, emotionally, that I am young. I don’t want to be the grandpa-looking guy who is actually not a grandpa on the playground. I don’t want to be winded chasing after my kids at the park. I’m out of shape at 27…I can’t imagine doing this at 47. We will persevere.

But still…I wonder about those who don’t have the advantages we have; the opportunities for education that we had; the opportunities for supportive families that we have; the luck that we have. I wonder about those and I consider how far we’ve come and how far we still have to go. I’ve often considered myself as post-racial, but not in the buzzword sense of the term. Being as mixed a family as we are, I don’t judge people by their race (but then again of course I do). I like to define it as acknowledging differences with out betraying humanity. At times I’m racist, xenophobic, homophobic, prejudiced, everything. That's the human condition—its irrational and emotional. Logically I try to overcome it with self-awareness, and logical thinking. (Unconsciously I comfort myself saying that these thoughts have a sociological point of view, that I am academically breaking down our systems---its bullshit. I’m working on it).

I can only tell you, once again, that your mother, your sister, your dog, your father, and you will be fine. By the time you are 25 and I am 50 and you are reading this on the terraformed moon beach by the Sea of Tranquility, you’ll know the story of how we made it. You’ll have lived it. And maybe all the other bullshit will be resolved as well. We can only hope. Until then…

Love,

Your Father

P.S. You are a dynamo! Your vocabulary is growing every minute. You say ELMO, CookA (cookie or cookie monster), you say AY-LA, Sissa (sister), Dada, Papa, Nana, Gamma (both grandma), and SAM or Mama (mostly Sam). You say about a million other things too. You play as nicely as you think can with Ayla and try to help her by giving her a bottle or pacifier…even though you cram them in her face, and you torture Chewy at every turn. We love to watch you grow---and grow you do!!!

November 17th, 2011

2011-11-17T20:26:00.000-08:00

Dear Jeremy,
I am going to make this a quick letter—first I want you to know I have been writing a letter for you that I hope to post soon. My work schedule along with the rigors of moving into our house, setting it up, and preparing for the arrival of your sister have kept my writing time to a minimum; especially the somewhat politically charged kind of correspondence I generally try to send you from the past. Luckily, there are little politics involved in the letter I am writing to you now.
As I am typing this letter you are blissfully sleeping, generally unaware of the change that is about to occur in the morning. By all accounts you sister is going to be delivered via C-Section before 11 AM tomorrow. I promised myself that I would write at least this letter to you before your sister arrived and I will be damned if I do not do so.
The past 20 months of my life (the entirety of your own) have been the most amazingly fulfilling I have ever experienced—and this is entirely due to you. Being a father has added a new dimension to my life that I could have never imagined. I love you very much and you bring great joy into my heart. Your mother, you, and me are about to enter into a new phase of our family life together with the arrival of your sister. We expect that she will bring us to a new dimension we could not have imagined as well—we expect her to bring great joy into our hearts as well, and we will love her as well.
With that said, as I am sure you know, your mother and I are both only children and we have been somewhat concerned about how to do deal with your feeling on the subject of having a baby sister. Will you be jealous? Undoubtedly. Will you cry when we can’t pick you up because the new baby will need us to do more for her for a while? Unavoidably. Will you steal her bottle, her pacifier, her toys? Will you make her cry? You betcha. Will we forget you are there? Not a chance.
You will be just as special tomorrow after she is born as you have been until now—if not more so. You will have a new dimension added unto your life: big brother. And your little sister will need you very much in her life. I want you to know that. We have spoken to you about the baby coming, but I feel like you have been more interested in cars, Elmo, and playing—and I can understand that. So I want you to have this list of promises I make to you. I want you to hold me to them, and I will do my best to keep them myself.
- We will never expect you two to be the same.
- We will never make one of you feel better or worse than another.
- We will not play favorites.
- We will never use one child against the other.
- We will love you both more and more each day, unconditionally and without end.
- We will support your preferences, choices, and decisions as best we can.
- We will provide everything we can to make your lives comfortable.
- We will teach you both that hard work and high goals pay off.
- We will practice what we preach.
- We will listen to your opinions and thoughts.
- We will always be there for you.
- We will expose you to as much knowledge and experience with the world as we can.
- We will honor your individuality and indulge your creativity.
- We will always make you feel special.
- We will always let you know you are the most important things in the world for us.
These may seem like givens—like there shouldn’t be any other way—and, if by the time you read this, you cannot imagine there being another way then we’ve done our jobs well and kept our promise. Tomorrow our hearts open a little wider, and our world gets a lot warmer when you sister is born. Life is an amazing and wonderful journey, my son. I never expected you and a doubt I could begin to expect your sister.
My last promise is that these letters will continue to be addressed to you. I have an idea for something for her—it’s not quite there yet but I will have it together soon. I only ask that you don’t mind sharing them with your sister in the event that fate has taken me from the two of you. Occasionally I may talk to her, give updates on her, and send her my regards in my letters to you. These are sentiments that I place in trust of a loving, protective, and caring big brother who will dutifully deliver messages to his sister from their father.
Remember always that I am proud of you, and I love you. You are very special and important to me and your mother. Everything we do we do for you…and now for your sister as well. There is no clean way to wrap this up. I love you.
Love,
Your Father

PS: You are speaking more and more every day. You radiate a brightness and curiosity that automatically endears you to everyone who meets you. You have a personality, a sense of humor, a uniqueness to you that cannot be denied and will not be suppressed. You are now 20 months old and have been going to daycare (school) and you love it there. Since going you have truly started to grow—being with other children your age has launched you into new levels of growth—hopefully you and your sister weill help each other in that way too.

June 19th, 2011

2011-06-19T08:07:00.000-07:00

June 19th, 2011

Dear Jeremy,

Today is both my second Father’s Day as a father and my second Father’s Day as an expecting Father. I would just like to take this moment to quickly reflect on the changes that have occurred in my life both by virtue of your birth and also in confluence.

Since you were born I have walked for both my Bachelor’s Degree and Master’s. Since you were born I have helped start an auspicious company with a mind geared toward both bringing people the joy of escapist literature and the future. I have undertaken and completed about 80% of my first novel, which is currently running. I have begun the prep-work for my first graphic novel. I have started two blogs (including this one) as well as developed at least two ongoing internet columns that will be running on Eat Your Serial along with my novel. I have officially become employed as an elementary school teacher.

I have learned to view your achievements as my own. I have watched you grow with awe and wonder. I have seen you grow and develop from a little helpless newborn into a curious little money; climbing, exploring, playing, questioning, walking, crawling, babbling, and interacting with the world. I have learned that the cliché is not a lie—it does hurt me more than it hurts you. I have learned that there is great joy and rapture in watching you discover even the most minute of things. Watching you play with toy cars as naturally as you breathe, seeing you walk backwards as if it's a magic trick, and playing along as you figured out that peek-a-boo is enormously fun—though I wonder when you will figure out that just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean that I can’t see you. I watch with delight as you walk and with humor as you trip, stumble, and fall because it is followed by the pride as you pull yourself up and go back about your business.

I have come to appreciate my father and my grandfathers, and all father figures and fathers in a greater way being your father and the father of you as-of-yet unidentified sibling. I have come to appreciate Jor-El along with Kal-El, Uncle Ben along with Peter Parker, and, well I always appreciated Batman but now a new dimension in respect to Robin(s) and Nightwing; as well as many other non-fictional fathers.

In respect to that, and all humor aside, I look forward to many more Father’s Days of watching you grow and develop.

Love,
Your Father

P.S. Since I’ve been home you’ve developed quite an appreciation for Sesame Street and especially that accursed Elmo. You stick to Elmo and the Sesame Street gang like glue. Thank god for Jim Henson and the Children’s Television Workshop…but mostly thank god for viewers like you.

June 1st, 2011

2011-06-01T15:01:00.000-07:00

June 1st, 2011

Dear Jeremy,

My son, the world turns; never blink or you’ll miss it. I had long resigned the capture of Osama Bin Laden to the world of jokes and conspiracy theories. It has been nearly a decade since the terrorist attacks of 9/11. People would often quip “We can put a man on the moon, but we can’t find Osama,” or “A camera can give me a red light ticket but they can’t find Bin Laden”. Two days ago President Obama, who has borne the accusation of cow towing to the Arab world and being soft on terror, announced that “at his command” a team of Navy SEALS found Osama and relieved the Earth of his burden.

The nation exploded. Not since the Allies declared victory in World War II, I think, have Americans congregated apolitically, spontaneously, en masse in front of the White House and in Times Square. People gathered at the slowly rising Ground Zero site. Americans were flooding the streets singing the National Anthem and chanting “USA, USA, USA”. I could not believe what I was seeing from my fellow Americans. I have never in my life seen such unity in our people that was simultaneously joyous, proud, and exuberant.

Grandpa Kenny called me up around ten or ten thirty on that 1st of May. I was working on a final presentation that, incidentally I gave not 40 minutes before I started writing you this letter. I was ready for a late night; what I got was an all-nighter.

“Are you watching the news?” My father asked.
“No. What happened?”
“It seems the president is about to make a speech…”

At this hour? I thought to myself. Something big must be going on. The president had, several days earlier released his “long form” birth certificate to the country and the day before gave a hellava hilarious and sharp speech at the White House Correspondents’ dinner—so he was on a run.

What Grandpa Kenny told me was shocking. A wave of excitement rushed over me.

“Apparently, he is going to announce that they found, killed, and have the body of Osama Bin Laden.”

Jeremy, I am not one to take joy in the death of men (well in movies and video games, yes, but not in reality). I take very little joy in the pain and despair of others, of animals, of extra-terrestrials…sometimes I feel bad for eating (but dammit I’m hungry!). When the US found Saddam Hussein, when the Iraqi people tried him and had him hanged, I did not rejoice. I knew the world was a better place without him, that he would kill me with hesitation, that he hated everything about my people; I did not make phone calls to spread the word. (I did search tirelessly for a video of it, but that was more of morbid curiosity than triumphant—it was academic, not emotional.)

But Bin Laden? That sonofabitch sent a ripple effect through our national psychology that was endlessly effective. Our way of life changed, our country grew polarized (more so), many of my peers went to war and lost their lives in pursuit of justice. But not just justice: vengeance. Revenge is almost never proper. I believe in being the bigger man, finding solace in your personal morality. Right makes might. I believe this, even now. That is how I conduct my life.

Sometimes motherfuckers gotta get killed.

I made some phone calls after that. I called Papa Joe, He was excited to hear the news. I don’t think he cared which President got Osama as long as that bastard was dead as a doornail. I called Grandpa Glenn. You were actually sleeping over at his house just then so I didn’t call him too aggressively because I didn’t want to wake you up. I sent him a text message after he didn’t answer two phone calls. In today’s world of YouTube and other readily available media I didn’t think he’d mind.

I called Keith and spoke with him for a while about it, about the cultural significance of Obama’s Presidency, and the lack of transcendence in poor and minority communities of his accomplishments as symbolism among young men. We also spoke about how “He got that motherfucker,” so don't get me wrong here; we took a sober moment to examine the accomplishments of the man. A half white, half black man, with a Muslim name, from the most remote State in the Union attended Columbia and Harvard, taught law, wrote two books, is an independent millionare, is a strong family man, served in the Senate, became President of the United States, passed several landmark laws (including laws guaranteeing equal pay for women, and the infamous health care reforms), won a Nobel Peace Prize during his Presidency, can catch a fly with his bare hands, delivered a pull out time table for the war in Afghanistan…and accomplished the mission before said pull out by catching the man President Bush could not. Whoa. That's a lot of stuff. I’m sure the President is a good bowler and has a decent jump shot as well.

Still, many young minorities prefer to give their admiration to professional athletes or entertainers citing “What has Obama done for me?” not realizing professional athletes and entertainers do nothing for them. They may cite his achievements are “not relatable” and don’t “speak to the streets”. I don’t think that is a totally true perspective—I think entertainment is more glamorous than politics, and requires less to appreciate. Also Rappers, for example, represent a counter cultural “Do what I gotta” image while the President—regardless of his color—is by definition “The Man”, “The Institution”, “The Authority” that they perceive as oppressive, repressive, and offensive to their goals.

I spoke online to your godfather, Danny, about how Wolf Blitzer is an idiot as he spouted statements like “I assume they have DNA evidence”. Why would you assume that? Journalists aren’t supposed to assume anything. The media today employ journalism so yellow it makes piss look like the white driven snow of the Klondike, I swear. Finally, the President gave his speech. It was under ten minutes. He thanked President Bush and his efforts, he told us “Justice has been served”, and the nation exploded. I asked Danny if he thought our celebrations in the street would be paralleled to the Anti-American Arab rejoicing in the streets just after 9/11. He didn’t want to admit that people could draw that parallel—but we both agreed that people are an amazing animal. It would not be 24 hours before the internet was weighted down with comments from all corners about how “we are no better”.

Let me make this plain and simple:

Rejoicing over the deaths of thousands of unsuspecting civilians in peace time via weaponized commuter airliner is a crime against humanity. It is an act of evil, not a protest. It is not a religious act it is a political one.

Rejoicing over the death of the plotter who manipulated religion to convince others to kamikaze themselves to perpetrate that act and hide for almost a decade as a coward is not a crime against humanity. It is a celebration of Justice. Osama Bin Laden should have, in perfect justice, been killed as thousands of times. His one death does not bring as much justice as it might, but it’ll have to do.

I continued to be awake through the night, working on my presentation and communicating through Facebook and Twitter about these happenings and watching and monitoring the rhetoric and the public’s reaction (and reacting a bit myself). I got into a particular thread on Facebook that I found to be troubling because it was, indeed, indicative of the conversation I had with Keith earlier. I was speaking with my friend Courtney about a posting he made insinuating that, not only was 9/11 an inside job but that the entirety of the government are puppets for the Illuminati. His assertion was that, as a people, we are constantly being duped, mislead, fooled, and herded towards some ultimate and nefarious purpose of shadowy silhouetted figures of mysterious political power and wealth.

I won’t delve too deeply into the subject of that debate but I must take a second to elucidate upon my particular stance on the Mason/Freemason/Illuminati conspiracy theory (in general). It would be an incredibly ineffective geopolitical secret society that allows movies, documentaries, and any other kind of base knowledge of its existence to proliferate to and through the masses. Some argue that this is due to hubris; they say that the secret society doesn’t care if the secret is out because they are unstoppable.

This reasoning is circular within a few decimals of pi: The society is secret, but everyone knows about it, it can afford not to be secret; nobody knows the real secret. Something doesn’t add up and I refuse to believe that at this point in my life I am missing any piece of vital information that can keep a secret society secret if everyone knows about it. I can only accept that the Illuminati conspiracy is a dummy or red herring for some other dubious geopolitical secret society, organization, or group that runs everything; but it logically begs the question “How different could the true puppeteers be than the ruse?” Not much, I assert.

Does this mean that I don't think that there are people behind the scenes that make things move and shake, whom we have very little or no knowledge of? That there aren’t people of great wealth, clout, influence, or incentive that can easily sway the course of might nations? No it does not. I just don’t think it is an ancient secret society that worships an extra dimensional shape and hides clues in everything from pop music to the one dollar bill like the Riddler. There are super-villains in this world, my son, and one of them just got a bullet through the head from an exquisitely trained Navy SEAL; I assure you he wasn’t leaving clues on purpose to be found. Those who wield such behind the scenes influence are most likely not part of any cult beyond business, rarely worship any abstraction beyond the bottom line, and don’t actually run for office themselves because it is easier to move a finger and watch the marionette dance than it is to dance yourself.

My debate with Courtney and his friend Antonio went on for an hour or so. Antonio had a different perspective that it didn’t matter if Bin Laden was dead because the system is only seeking to make complacent drones of the people—particularly those of minority or low socioeconomic status. This type of argument may or may not logically run into the Illuminati argument which Courtney was advocating. Antonio’s argument however has more teeth in the sense that there are many freedom limiting laws being ratified these days that are highly concerning, as well as a great deal of self-destructive legislative actions being conducted in, around, and unto the public education system. The short run of the argument boils down to: regardless of the veracity of their claims it doesn’t change the fact that justice has been served, Bin Laden had been shot, and its about fucking time.

Immediately following this Obama found himself teetering on an approval rating higher than it had been in over a year and a half. Not one to sit on his laurels he quickly began about debating whether or not to release the photos of a dead Bin Laden. Instead, so as to not rouse the terrorists against us, he only showed some top brass and high ranking Congressmen. Shortly thereafter Republicans started throwing their hats in the ring for the 2012 presidential election. Newt Gingrich returned from the abyss he had been tucked away in for the last 10 years while professional politicians like Mitt Romney and Mike Huckabee weighed their options (Romney in Huckabee…seemingly not). Apparently they are ready to attack Obama on the economy—which they may have a shot at.

Then, out of nowhere, Obama decides to get in on the Israel/Palestine debate calling for a return to 1967 borders as a policy. What the fuck is that? As Benjamin Netenyahu would say the next day and in the following week those borders are impossible. They are indefensible from attack, they don’t account from the growth of the Israeli society in the past 40 years, and leaves the Israelis with no practical bargaining chips. Furthermore Bibi pointed out that since the Palestinian Authority (which is essentially Arafat’s Fatah) with an endorsement and backing from Hamas—a terrorist organization whose main pursuit is the destruction of Israel…destruction that is identified without recognizing the right of Israel to even exist in the first place.

Way to fuck up your polls. The Jewish community which overwhelmingly voted for Obama is not thrilled at this at all. Obama himself has had to do some back peddling and spinning of language. It was a bad move. The problem is that the Palestinian Authority is looking for recognition in the United Nations in September—which if they get it will make the PA lands a country and will make a territorial dispute in Israel into a war with a sovereign nation. It's a big problem with no apparent solution because Israel will not negotiate with the Palestinians so long as they are allied with Hamas; and they shouldn’t. The US doesn’t negotiate with terrorists or those who collude with them; we shouldn’t expect Israel to either. Furthermore we shouldn't expect them to do it when the terrorists live across the street, literally.

On that note, I can’t wrap this one up cleanly. Those were the big events of 2011. Bin Laden dead, Obama’s Israeli peace plan DOA. Sigh. Son, when you are 25 and I am 50 I can only hope that there is a place our people can call home. Even if I never want to live there, I’m damn sure I could, no questions asked. The Holocaust wasn’t that long ago and it could happen very quickly. I know this sounds awful conservative of me—but I never claimed to cling to one side or the other. My big personal issue is digging for consistency in my personal views and this issue is one of the big reasons because its seems that for Israel I feel one thing should happen…but I wonder if I’d feel the same for the United States to do it?

Until next time, my boy. I’m gonna be hanging out with you all summer!

Love,
Your Father

PS Since my last letter you have gone from kinda walking to really running, from making sounds to babbling with the intention of talking, you’ve grown many teeth, you’ve learned to climb, jump, and bounce. You are making a strong transition from baby to boy which is good because we’ve got another baby on the way. You’re gonna be a big brother, little man! Be a good one and “do nice” to the baby!

Oh, also I graduated from my Master’s Program. Thank God. And Eat Your Serial launched. Thank God. So I’m a Master, an entrepreneur, and a novelist. Also your Mommy and Me put a bid on a house—so we’re gonna have a house soon. Phew. Lets get busy! That’s not enough stuff yet!

March 6th, 2011- Your First Birthday

2011-03-06T05:06:00.000-08:00

March 6th, 2011

Dear Jeremy,

Happy First Birthday! I know I have much in the world of politics to talk with you about—in fact its been quite exciting politically all around the world. Egypt, Libya, and Jordan have been exploding with revolution and government dissolutions, the President called for a major consolidation of the Federal Government (then never spoke of it again), and New York City has been clamoring to do either illegal or immoral things in the public school system. But, for once, you know what? Forget all of that! It’s your first birthday! The world can stop spinning for one day!

Even though it’s my last semester in graduate school and I have been insanely busy with shit-loads of work I wouldn’t miss making a post on your birthday—let alone your first birthday—for all the Google hits in Bieberland. I just wanted to take a few moments to reflect on the past year of my life—also known as the first year of yours.

You are without a doubt the most amazing child that has ever graced this earth, Every day I look upon you and fall in love over and over again. Some days I wonder if you were real and I get depressed to wonder if you were merely a dream or figment of my imagination until I see you again. Every one who meets you remarks on how big you are, how smart you, how cute you are, and how good you are. It is a joy to take you into restaurants—especially when we see how your dirty rotten peers and elders act in eateries large and small.

That being said I would appreciate it if you would please do a few things for me as soon as possible.

1. Walk (but don't run)
2. Speak (but be polite)
3. Finish teething (but have better teeth than I do)
4. Sleep in your crib through the whole night (like you did before you started teething)
5. When sleeping in your crib throughout the whole night please don’t wet your diaper
6. Get potty trained
7. Get a job that pays more than Mommy’s and Daddy’s combined before your next birthday

If you do number 7 in the next week or so you can take your time on the rest of the list. Is that a deal?

Honestly, I cannot recall the void that was in my soul before you were born—I never imagined that there could be such a capacity for love, pride, and adoration inside of me. You have helped me to grow just as I hope to help you grow.

Over this past year I have watched the world that I have become jaded and cynical of through your eyes—fresh and new and full of hope and wonder—and it has only confirmed the reasons why I write you these letters. I want you to know what that world was as you wondered—with a little bit of spin from your Old Man of course! I want you to be able to look back when I’m 50 and you’re 25 and say “that's what the world was when I was a baby—this is what my Dad thought about it before he got the microchip in his cerebellum…wow he used to be pretty bad at spelling and math!”

Jeremy, my son, I love you more than a million Letters To Jeremy could ever express. Every day watching you is a wonderful affirmation of every good choice I’ve ever made in my life and karmic reward for every good deed. You are quite the show.

Today we are throwing you the most amazing first birthday party for grown-ups you’ll ever see. We’ll show you the pictures one day and you’ll ask us why we did it and we’ll tell you…something. Your Mother and I love you very much and we want to celebrate every milestone of your life in an extraordinary way.

On that note, I wish you only happiness and fulfillment in life and a very happy first birthday! (I’m hoping someone got you some comic books for Daddy, but I won’t hold my breath!) I cannot wait to see who you grow up to be—but rest assured I’ll be there when you get there with pride and love overflowing from my chest. Happy Birthday, son.

Love,

Your Father

P.S. Everyone has seen you take two or more steps but me. You refuse to walk for me—but I know you can! I’ve seen you cruising around. You weigh just over 20 pounds and you had your very first haircut on Friday. You were such a good boy! Even though you got a little cranky towards the end you didn’t cry and you weren’t scared. You’ve been mimicking us more and more and I’m sure you’ll be sprinting and debating in no time!

December 25th, 2010

2010-12-25T06:28:00.000-08:00

December 25th, 2010

Dear Jeremy,

It has been a whole semester since I last wrote to you; so I must apologize for my lack of correspondence. I hope my remittance of duty in writing to you is alleviated only by the fact that I do in fact see you every single day of your life. That being said, phew! So much has happened since September. I have been very busy in my Master’s program at NYU: student teaching, coasting by-- not reading the assignments, and busting my ass to read the assignments when the papers are coming due. With the semester over I can manage to write to you about something that has been nagging at me concerning most public discourses; regardless of whether or not they are overtly conceded.

The issue that I wish to speak about today is the difference between equality and equity, and sure enough, I know I have mentioned it before. A big piece of the great political divide that is currently preventing any legislation of worth from occurring in this country is the supposed interchangeability of these two terms. In fact the word “equity” never gets thrown around at all unless its in reference to a home loan or mortgage. I am not suggesting the country call J.G. Wentworth (877 CASH NOW); it’s not the kind of equity I am talking about at all.

When the term “equality” gets thrown around the conservative movement in this country—whether they are a tea party or a pick-a-nig party—get very wound up saying the laws on the books make everyone “equal”, that the spirit of the land says “all men were created equal” and if they really feel that they are up against the wall they point a finger and start yelling “communist” and “socialist”.

Going as far back as my first letter to you, I’ve stated that remarks of this kind are generally unfounded, especially in the United States where capitalism hasn’t existed in a pure form for over 100 years and where socialism has been in effect for damn near 80 years but even that is still a financial/economic kind of equity that I’m not actually talking about (though all things in a society are interconnected).

What I am actually talking about is social equity. Social equity, or social justice, is a philosophy that every one should have an equal opportunity and every one should have equal treatment under the auspices of government and law. This is the kind of equity that does indeed allow for a class system, does indeed allow for poverty, and does indeed allow for the children of rich people to inherit their family fortunes and remain rich.

What it doesn’t allow for is two simultaneous, or three concurrent systems of law and government; systems which allow the poor to be tried as poor -- without real advocacy, for the middle (oh the dwindling middle!) to have a 50:50 shot at fair justice, and the upper crust to have about 95:5 shot of going home versus slap on the wrist. Now these of course are gross generalizations; but I’m trying to illustrate a point.

Where is the social justice in a system that sends people partaking in, admittedly illegal actions, such as distributing relatively small amounts of marijuana to jail for longer periods of time than say…rapists, murders, and multimillionaire CFOs who have lost every penny the American people invested in them? This strange balance of “pot is bad (mmkay?)”, “making thousands of people homeless is less bad” is a major problem in the priorities of the legal system.

Recently a specific stride towards equality was made in the repeal of “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” which was a fundamentally discriminatory practice in the U.S. Military based on sexual orientation. Military personnel were under an unfair edict for 17 years that required they suppress or lie about their sexual preferences. This is a case in the United States of a deep-seated hypocrisy being brought to the forefront and dismantled. If the United States claims all men created equal than the equality of choice and an ability to voice your preferences should be one of our highest ideals. This is not limited to the freedom of religion it should be extended to all personal choices. If all men are created equal then homosexual men are equal. If they have a right to pursue happiness then they should be able to pursue that gaiety with the vigor of any other American. This is a solid case for equality; and as of yet a successful one.

Then you’ve got financial deregulation, which is a big conservative (Pee Party) ideological what-have-you. Financial deregulation is, in fairness, a series of reversals of laws on the books that take America’s pseudo-socialist economic policy back towards a more laissez faire kind of capitalism. This is a fair thing for people who yell “communist!” and “socialist!” at the drop of a hat to want. The problem is that the premise of such a system is fundamentally flawed. Now I have always said that “A single person is good, but a bunch of people together are no damned good” and I will addendum that with “those no damned good people will inevitably succumb to a mob mentality”. So what does that mean? If you have a bunch of people running monetary decisions they will not by human nature do what is best for the masses. They will do what is best for their selves and damned be the rest.

In this point of my argument I must clarify, because even as I am writing it I hear Ayn Rand’s Jim and Dagny Taggert arguing in my head. It is not business’ business to make the world equitable, it is business’ business to make money. It is the United States Government’s job to make the country equitable. Which brings us back to equity and equality. It’s still slippery; I understand that. If I were to distill it to a point I would say that, in regards to legislative edicts like affirmative action, equality is quotas and equity is hiring on merit, experience, and ability. To hire a minority because he or she is a minority and a certain number of that group has to be represented in your business, school, institution whatever is wrong—it is in fact the same thing as hiring an unqualified white person over a qualified black one. Equity is saying “this person is more equipped and skilled, therefore I will hire him/her”. It’s fairness.

Now, I’ve been dealing with a lot of third graders lately and if you ask a third grader they will tell you that fairness is equality. It’s not true. If Jimmy gets a star because he did good work and Johnny didn’t that’s equity. If Jimmy did good work and everybody gets a star regardless of what they did that’s equality. Equality is “everyone gets the same thing” and equity is “Everybody gets what they need”. Equality is the case, or rather it should be, with the letter of the law. Everyone should get the same thing in legal cases—senator, pauper, billionaire mogul, drug dealer, everyone should be the same in the eyes of the courts and sheriffs. Equality should be the case for accessibility to proper health care. Equality should be the case for access to your elected officials. Equality should be the case for access to education.

Job markets, capitalist job markets especially, don’t run that way. You would think in a money making enterprise that racism would get thrown out of the window for such things as bottom-line and competition but humans are a very funny animal; almost like coyotes in their xenophobia. Many people will gnaw off their hands, monetarily speaking, in order to not hire those that are different from them. So laws have to be put on the books that ensure equitable opportunity. Many lawmakers, and most constituents unfortunately don’t understand the subtle yet not-so-subtle difference between equality and equity so the job market gets quotas placed upon it. “You have to hire X number of these kinds of people in ratio to Y number of that” which makes merit, and the idea of a meritocracy (re: one big word that is defined as “The only way to realize the American Dream”) an impossible system in the workplace or business world.

Now, before I move on I want to curb any misunderstandings. There are no racist implications in what I just said. Affirmative action could be a great tool for equity but it is instead used as a pawn for equality. Equality is not fairness it is an abandonment of objective consideration. Many others would argue that what I am talking about is putting too much trust in the hands of employers—that quotas are necessary in order to ensure that people aren’t being discriminated against. I think that’s bunk. I want people to be discriminated against. Any red-blooded American capitalist will tell you that discrimination is the most important thing in hiring—what should be prevented is racial, ethnic, gender, creed, religious, or sexual orientation based discrimination. People should be discriminated against always in every area of the job market by their ability. That’s why you go to school, it why you bust your ass at your vocation or profession, and its why you earn money—because you have worked hard to be the best. As the best you should be chosen for jobs.

Success should be a simple equation. Know your shit, work hard, wear a tie (when applicable). These things can be a mix in doses but the recipe won’t work without all the parts. Take the new New York City Schools Chancellor, Cathie Black, for example; here is a woman who has worked hard, knows when to wear a tie (as it were), and was able to become the head of one of the largest school districts in the country. What’s all the hubbub about then? She has no background in education—so she doesn’t know her shit. They had to create a job of “Knowing education type-stuff” as a direct aid to her. So what use is she? She doesn’t know her shit. So is it equity, or even equality that she has been appointed to this position? It doesn’t actually make any sense. If I were building a skyscraper and put the world’s greatest hair stylist in charge of architecture does that make any sense whatsoever?

“Accomplished in designing” would be the reason given. Does hair dressing have anything to do with architecture? What if I appointed an assistant architect and titled them “Special Assistant with Practical Knowledge of How To Be Certain This Building Doesn’t Fall And Kill Hundreds of People”? Wouldn’t you rather, at the very least, that I put the one with the practical knowledge in charge and take the highly accomplished hairdresser in a position of power that was more befitting to their role?

Equity. Cathie Black has been put in charge to make sure the system is run in a financially sound way while a CEO in charge of education has been put in to makes sure education is being attended to. In a reasonable scenario their roles would be flipped. The person with the educational knowledge appropriate to over see a school system should be Chancellor while someone of Cathie Black’s accomplishment should be made CFO to make sure the system doesn’t bleed itself to death. Her appointment is not equitable to the children of New York because she is not what they need.

She is equitable to Mayor King Bloomberg because what he always is in need of is more yes-men and cronies.

Jeremy, my boy, I don’t know where you will be attending school. We don’t currently live in the City of New York, but rather in the ‘burbs just outside. You may go to Long Island public schools, we may live in the boroughs, you may go to a private school. We don’t know right now. I do know the world you will live in though and at the end of the day you will find that it will offer equity and equality in uneven and irregular doses. The world runs on a system of “who you know not what you know”; though many a politician and law tries to make it otherwise. This is not pessimism or negativity on my part that’s just the way it is. There are times and places where equity should come into play as well as equality. Equality is far less useful and is not usually appropriate; where as equity is a slippery beast and may fall victim to subjective judgments. As always, I don’t quite have it down yet…but I can point to where it’s broken. Usually in tangled bureaucratic public administration. All the same that does not mean that either is without value. Everyone should have equal rights and treatment before the law and everyone should be treated equitably by the world. Utopian, perhaps, but it sounds much better as an ideal than “just accept that every is jerks and the world sucks”. It doesn’t have to be.

Love,

Your Father

P.S. Since my last letter you’ve started eating a wide variety of foods including but not limited to: fish, beef, pasta, pea soup, mashed potatoes, bread, ice cream, rice crispies, cheerios, and much much more. Basically you eat what we eat (plus formula…you still take a bottle!). You also have five teeth with more on the way, you’ve mastered crawling, you climb up on just about anything and cruise and skate along the sides. I think you’ll walk soon. You make all kinds of fun noises and seem to desperately want to tell us…something. You are in the 78th Percentile in height and at nine months old are wearing the 18 months size and you’ve got enough hair to make a wig for Great-Grandpa Joe and Great-Great-Uncle Nisan. No lie. You are quite the flirt with all kinds of ladies you come across and win their hearts left and right. Also you love toy cars. How about that?

P.P.S. Even though we are Jewish and that is the faith you are being raised in, Grandpa Kenny’s side of the family is Catholic and Christian. Today is Christmas! Hooray! You will be getting the benefit of a fantastic part of my childhood: Chanukah and Christmas presents! Get ready to get spoiled! I can’t wait to see what you think of a Christmas Tree with blinking lights and shiny, shiny, ornaments.

September 6th, 2010

2010-09-06T12:17:00.000-07:00

September 6th, 2010
Dear Jeremy,
As I start to settle into the idea that I am an adult I am jolted by the fact that I am also a husband and a father. You are six months old today so, I have to admit that on a day to day basis I am pretty settled in the fact that I am all three of those things—for better or worse and to the best of my ability. Being an adult is really the least of the three because “adult” status is something that is bestowed upon you when you cross the arbitrary threshold of eighteen years old. You are by all legal standards an adult the very moment they can dress you in green, hand you a rifle, and tell you to kill and die for an abstract ideology (or more appropriately a monetarily driven political debate wrapped in a brightly colored abstract ideology). Being a father and a husband are rooted in something much more important than mere adulthood—it is rooted in manhood.
Manhood is a quality that I am having a hard time defining in myself because it too is an abstract ideology but it is something that I must instill in you. A couple years ago, just before I started dating your Mother a friend of mine told me that he was getting married. Suffice it to say I was at a much more Peter Pan-ish stage in my life than I am now and I felt it prudent to tell him that I was very happy for him as long as he “was ready to be a man”. He asked me what I meant by that and I told him if he had to ask then he probably wasn’t ready. That may be true but as I am getting older and really becoming comfortable in my own manhood I wonder if his question was about a less exoteric notion than I had at that point considered. I am starting to wonder if he literally was asking what “being a man” meant to me— or in other words how do I define it, personally.
Manhood is one of those variable traits that switches and changes along predefined roles and responsibilities across countries and cultures. Usually it is understood to be attained through varies rites of passage or milestones of maturity; some of which come at fixed ages and other which come through experience. These rites once fulfilled and experiences one…um…experienced and processed eventually start to give you an appreciation for the world and your role within it that should be exuded in your actions as manhood. Got it?
Americans have a very specific fantasy of manhood that has previously been personified by the likes of Audie Murphy—a World War II hero and veteran turned movies star and John Wayne—the essence of American machismo and bravado distilled into a cowboy hat and flavored with tobacco. Both of these men were personifications of the soldier. As I implied before: you cannot be a solider if you are not an adult. A soldier however can also be a personification of manhood—fighting the good fight to make the world safe for “x,y,z” reason from the “a,b,c” threat. Over time American sensibility has morphed this soldier/cowboy movie manhood into almost an anti-hero, or a man who can stand apart or against the societal norms and systemic institutions while simultaneously being a part of them. Bruce Willis’ John McClain from the Die Hard movies is an example of this or Harrison Ford playing the President (again) that gets caught up in some plot and has to shoot his way out of it.
While there are many humorous observations to be made about these stereotypes of American manhood such as:
“American Men never have to reload their guns. They shoot infinity bullets”
“You can always tell the good guys by the color of their hats”
“The stronger your manhood, the wittier your one liners”
“In order to be the President you need to be badass and the Vice President has to be a Wookie.”
There is something simultaneously deep and shallow being said through these archetypes. The depth of it is the implied sense of “doing-good” while the shallow part is “watch me blow up this car by shooting it with infinity bullets” (that doesn’t really work by the way so, Jeremy, don’t waste your allowance on infinity bullets). “Doing-good” is a firmly rooted staple of manhood; though it is more appropriately expanded to having a “good sense of morality”. Morality is also a slippery beast to saddle because it can be so varied and while something may not be legal it may not be justice and while something may be just it may not be kind and while something may be kind it may not be right. At the end of the day morality is about doing what’s “right” despite justice, legality, and kindness though they are not by far mutually exclusive.
Many groups try to instill morality upon others; none more virulently and emphatically than religious groups. Religious groups will all try to convince you that they have “the true word of god” and that all of the other religions are false and will eventually lead you into either: hell, or someplace that doesn’t have as good a view in heaven as they’ve got. I personally have more than my fair share of problems with organized religion, but as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now you’ve been raised in the Jewish faith. You may wonder why I have chosen to instill in you reverence, love, and fear for an invisible man who never speaks or otherwise shows himself and has rules that you must follow lest he be MAD AT YOU FOREVER (I cannot do the topic justice as George Carlin did, and I must refer you to him for elaboration).
The answer is simple—the root of my morality comes from the teachings of the Jewish Faith despite all of the rigmarole that man has added to it in order to lord it up over others. All religions do this, by the way—they have a kernel of truth and then build around it crazy customs that, sometimes, seem whimsical and must be carried out as a measure of your faith and my extension your morality.
In religion morality is taught through an ephemeral sense of cause and effect—if I don’t follow the Ten Commandments God will punish me—and it is followed by an adult sense of corporeal cause and effect. Thou shalt not kill because you will go to hell becomes a death sentence for murder-one. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife becomes a punch in the face from a very angry husband. The power of these lessons is imparted via mythology, fable, and parable—Aesop’s, Greek, Grimm, even and especially the Bible, Torah, Quran, Bhagavad Gita (religious texts in general)—while corporeal law will be imparted through anecdote and journalism.
Religious morality however does not equal morality in general. Many religions allow totally reprehensible acts to be committed in the name of God—most famously Christianity and Islam. Wars are fought by two or more sides all claiming to have God behind them; which would be fine if they weren’t all claiming the same God. I have often asserted that the major clash between Christians, Jews, and Muslims all come from the inability to share the same one God. Perhaps if these three monotheistic faiths all had a different deity there wouldn’t be as much friction between them—probably not.
You will find examples of morality being throw your way from all avenues of life. Your schools will try to teach you to share, to be kind, not to lie, and not to run with scissors. You will find that the media (I mentioned a few movie examples earlier) will also provide you with unending spins on morality. The influence that pop-culture will attempt to have on your morality cannot be measured. While I boast a considerable vocabulary that was garnered from reading comic books all my life it also had an impact on my sense of right and wrong and justice. Much like John Wayne and Audie Murphy had their influence form the movies for many comic books had their influence on me.
Senses of honorability, respectability, and doing the right thing because it’s right and not because it’s easy have their root in my reading comic books and as such I cannot deny the medium or its effect on my morality. Comic books and reading them are a big part not only of the development of my sense of morality but are also a big part of the person that I am.
Being honorable or respectable are resultant of morality most times—and they are important facets of being a good man. They are the qualities that people will cite in their ability to trust you. Trustworthiness is one of the most important aspects of your manhood. An untrustworthy man is usually not much of a man to speak of. A person you cannot trust is of no use, they have no purpose, and in the end they will only let you down or leave you in a situation that could have been avoided. An untrustworthy person is a regret waiting to happen. You should steer clear of people like that and never allow yourself to be them.
Some mistake the concept of “manhood” with the idea of “toughness”. “Toughness” is the kind of “Street cred” is not the kind of bravado rooted manhood you should ever worry about. There will be times when you may have to use your fists to defend your honor—but those times should be few and far between. The kind of supposed manhood that is garnered from fisticuffs is hardly worth merit and even worse it only lasts until somebody an put you down on your ass. I am not saying you shouldn’t be able to defend yourself—as a matter of fact if you can you’ll have one up on your old man because my martial art consists of “kick ‘em in the balls and run”—but remember that you ability to use words will always serve you far better than your ability to punch. The pen is mighty than the sword…but don’t test that literally only literarily.
As you get older you will start to make your own decisions on spirituality, religion, morality, and the metaphysical. You will decide to make your own way or to follow a designed path or some compromise of the two—that is not my decision to make for you. It is only my responsibility to instill in you the morals that I think are necessary to make you a good and worthwhile person the only way I know how—example and faith (and more of the former than the latter…some things are for ethnic and cultural benefit). I hope that in your journey to manhood you will find yourself to be honest, hard working, creative, loyal, inquisitive, and independent. I hope you will find yourself saying please and thank you; I hope you will find yourself gracious and considerate of others. I hope you find yourself to be honorable. Most of all I hope you find yourself to be respectable—and not in the “street cred” sort of respect. Nobody should ever question your integrity or your intentions.
I’ll do what I can to get you there—as will the people who helped me get to the place where I am (if that’s considered to be a respectable man…only time will tell). I’ve spoken about the outside influences that will steer your morality, honorability, and trustworthiness but they will all be trumped by the influence (hopefully) of your parents, your grandparents, your aunts and uncles, your cousins, and good friends (emphasis on the good). You come from a good family with a good mother and a half-assed father that tries his best. I dream everyday of the man you will be and the great times we will have together and the pain in the ass you will be as a teenager. Every day. So today on your six-month-birthday I hope you know that I cherish every moment as they come and can’t wait to know all about what you think about stuffs and junk…y’know feelings.
Love,
Your Father

P.S.- As I said you are six months old today. You’ve come a long way from the raspy voiced mush in the NICU. You’ve developed such a distinctive personality over the past six months it makes us sick! Everyone who meets you is impressed. Let’s hope you make some money for Mommy and Daddy since Mommy is trying to sign you up for some baby modeling. You gonna pay for us sonny! In all seriousness we love you very much and all I ask is you do your best to say Da-da first!

August 30th, 2010

2010-08-30T17:09:00.000-07:00

August 30th 2010,
Dear Jeremy,
We live in a time where information is a ubiquitous fact of life. There is not a moment at present, and certainly barring any technological apocalypse in the time when you will read this, that information on anything is not waiting at your fingertips eagerly for your edification. The problem with this ease of access to information is the equal, or arguably larger, access to misinformation. Anyone with gumption to employ media and internet might have a YouTube page or a blog and present their point of view, whether it is educated or otherwise, and present it to world at large as truth. With that in mind, and before I go further, I feel it behooves me to say these letters are my opinion. They have always been and will always be my opinion. I implore you to fact-check; do your own research, understand everything you can, and determine your own opinion. (Note: My opinion happens to be fact)
This misinformation or, even being supremely fair, lack of well rounded information leads to a lot of controversy in quite possibly every aspect of life from low-brow and trivial affairs such as Paris Hilton’s cocaine arrest to important and underplayed issues such as the benefits of childhood vaccinations. Today, we will speak of the latter, suggesting only of the former and those deeply engrossed with it: “You are a waste of space”.
We live in a time previously unheard of in the realm of medicine and medical treatment/prevention. There are cures, treatments, and preventative vaccinations for a great many diseases that in that time of my parents were incredibly dangerous, in the time of their parents potentially fatal, and in the time of their parents a veritable death sentence. For example polio, at one time, would cripple and could kill children and adults with the effectiveness of a sledgehammer to the spine. It was once in the forefront nightmares of parents. A vaccination for it was developed, employed, and successful within the life span of your grandparents. It was successful in preventing the contraction of polio to such a large degree that the last wild case of it was recorded in the United States before the decade I was born in.
The way vaccinations work is that they inject into the system a small and weakened amount of the sickness being inoculated against into the body. This small amount of virus or other pathogen begins to affect the body and symptoms of the illness may develop (for example a common side effect of a flu vaccination might be “flu-like symptoms). The body fights this small infection and creates its own in-born cure to the illness. Many times the cure cannot be synthesized or mass produced in a fashion that would allow for it to be a mass produced “cure” so in lieu of that vaccinations were developed. An individual’s body creates a cure or resistance to the convalescence in question which is tailor made for that person’s biochemistry (or whatever).
There is something to the effect of 30 different shots that a child must receive within the first six years of their life to prevent upwards of 16 different diseases that are actually life threatening or life altering. Proponents of receiving the vaccinations include: pediatricians, pathologists, and the Center for Disease Control (CDC). The argument that they put forth is rather convincing for most: the discomfort of a shot, or the short time side effect of a vaccine (soreness, overnight fever, a day or two of mild illness) are more preferable to the discomfort of the disease (paralysis, incapacitation, severe long-term illness, disability, or death). This, to your mother and me at least, seems to make for a pretty good argument for having a child vaccinated (also we enjoy poking you with needles—so everybody wins). You are, at almost six months old, in the middle of that process now.
Before I go further I have to make a point of stating some things that people in our times of fancy-pants doctors and medicine forget:
1) Medicine is an evolving science. The bleeding edge thoughts on diseases, health, and medicine today could be debunked and viewed as medieval tomorrow. You can only go with the information and research of the day and balance it with the critical thought that your conscience, morality, intelligence, and education can reconcile. While the science is exacting it is not exact.
2) Medicine is a business that is run by pharmaceutical conglomerates; and business is good. While the researchers themselves may be very altruistic people (altruistic mercenaries of science) the companies themselves are looking to make a profit. The research that goes into developing pharmaceutical drugs is unbelievably expensive; but not solely for profit. The price that you pay for expensive medicine today directly funds the uncovered overhead cost and the upfront direct cost of that medicine, and the next medicine in development. While the companies still make a substantial and sizable profit (arguably an excessive profit, but that’s for another time).
3) Many of these treatments and medicines have side effects—often the more serious the ailment the more serious the side effect from its corresponding medication. The pharmaceutical companies must inform the public about the side effects but may downplay them. Being informed about what a medication will do and might do is as much your responsibility as it is the company’s to publish the information.
4) At the end of the day medical treatment is in your power. You can refuse or accept whatever it is that the doctors want to give you. Read the “Patient’s Bill of Rights” and know exactly what it is that they can and cannot do. Everything requires consent—and consent requires thought.
There is a growing contingent of parents that are convinced that childhood vaccinations are a leading proponent in rising numbers of diagnosis in children with autism. The claim is that the bombardment of illnesses into the young body in the fashion of vaccination and inoculation somehow sets off a chemical reaction in the body that can cause autism in the child. Some argue it is the level of mercury introduced into the system via vaccinations. Mercury has a long history of being involved in various psychological and physical disorders the most prevalent of which is insanity (as demonstrated by Alice in Wonderland’s and Batman’s “Mad Hatter” characters respectively). Others believe it has something to do with the number of ailments introduced at a time shocking the system. Still more do not claim to know what causes it scientifically but site empirical evidence of a phenomenon.
Now Jeremy, I can’t argue: there is some truth in what is said in a blatantly “cause and effect” observation. Many parents claim that directly after vaccination (within several days or weeks) their children had severe regression of development or seizures which were followed by diagnosis of autism. Famously, Jenny McCarthy’s son, Evan, had such an experience and her highly publicized plight and lobby for Autism research has done much to fuel the media frenzy surrounding the disability. She is a proponent of the vaccination theory.
Recently, I spoke with my friend Jon Weiss, a student of Immunology (whom I will refer to as a scientist) about the topic. When I asked this scientist about the idea that vaccinations were causing the statistical rise of cases of autism he dismissed it as easily as I dismiss the notion that Quicksilver is faster than The Flash. He did agree, as a scientist, that there is a possibility that there might be, very well, a likening between genetic predilections towards Pervasive Developmental Delays (PDDs) such as Autism and these vaccinations—but there would have to be the genetic precursor of this occurring anyway. In essence what he said was that while vaccinations may, at times, be the straw that brake the camel’s back in the onset of diagnosis but it is certainly not a contributing factor in the same sense that cigarettes cause cancer.
He further suggested that there might be a confluence of unrelated events in play. Often times, children diagnosed with autism will seem to develop normally and then have a regression that leads to the search for a diagnosis in the first place. This might happen regardless of vaccination status. It is part of the horrifying part of having a child—a diagnosis like autism might strike out of nowhere when you thought you were “in the clear”. It is the perception of a regression within days or weeks of a vaccination (which occur quite often in children under the age of six, especially under the age of one) is merely a coincidental occurrence. For example, I may have my first dirty-water hotdog in Manhattan tomorrow and go to the dentist the following day and find that my wisdom teeth need to be pulled. There is a cause and effect perception that the dirty-water hotdog I ate may have very well caused the malady with my wisdom teeth—but popular understandings would deem it coincidental. Conversely, if many people started to make similar claims the phenomenon (or supposed phenomenon) would require close inspection and study.
In the early 1990’s with the renewal and title change of Education for All Handicapped Children Act in to the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA), autism became its own category of disability. Previous to this it was considered at times to be a component of schizophrenia, being diagnosed in children as “childhood schizophrenia”, or being a form of mental retardation. With IDEA autism was recognized as being fundamentally different than any of the other developmental, physical, or mental disabilities. This was done, in my opinion, as a matter of prudence and not in respect to some statistical surge. Around this time, with people with autism receiving services for autism as a category of diagnosis as opposed to a subheading or other explanation of a “larger” disorder it began receiving notoriety in the public arena.
To the layman it was a “new” disability—and as such was (and still is) an intriguing one because of its describing characteristics. People living with autism generally look quite typical; especially when one considers the physical appearance of a person with Down’s syndrome or multiple sclerosis which are respectively visually identifiable—almost readily. Like many disabilities, autism exists on a spectrum from profound to mild to moderate and the person carrying any of these levels of the diagnosis will display a scattering of abilities. They might be verbal, or non-verbal. They may or may not have issues with gross or fine motor development and implementation. They might excel and any one or many of these areas. I am wont to refer to the term “savant” but many times those with autism indeed fit that bill of being a person with an “above average or normal” knowledge on a specific subject or ability with a specific skill. Also a person with autism will generally have “no affect” which is most easily (though certainly not most accurately) described as being a lack of perceivable emotions.
The experience of autism is often described as being overwhelmed by the senses (or sometimes by one sense) to such a degree that the person becomes engrossed in it. There is a lack of social awareness, or a lack of social skills, or a lack of ability to be social because of the withdrawn and inward nature of being overwhelmed by the senses. Certain sensations can be more or less desirable or intense at given times which lead to “self-stimulatory behaviors” and other neurological stimulatory behaviors. These stimulations may or may not lead to seizures, or bouts of screaming, and other manifestations of being overwhelmed. It is important to note though that people with autism (and disabilities in general) can live very fruitful, meaningful, purposeful, and depending on the severity of their condition—normal lives. Due to these characteristics, and in my opinion most heavily the lack of physical disfiguration and “savant” like scattering of abilities there has been somewhat of a “popularity” in the media towards autism.
There is still the statistical evidence that incidences of autism are on the rise. There may be more misinformation in that regard than information. At this point in time I am pursing a Master’s Degree in Elementary Education and Special Education and preceding that I spent 5 years working in special education primarily with children diagnosed with autism. Due to the rise in public interest in autism and its history of being lumped with other development disabilities it is easy to diagnosis, for example, a child with moderate Down’s syndrome with autism. One might wonder why a parent might want this to be done—there are many reasons. First and foremost is stigma. Many people, families, and cultures still have a negative view of mental retardation as being a lost cause or as something shameful for the family. Considering the du-jour status of autism it is socially more acceptable in many circles for that diagnosis as opposed to Down’s or M.R.
Though autism “enjoys” this “du-jour” status it is also important to note that autism is statistically one of the less common forms of disabilities—far overshadowed by Down’s syndrome and mental retardation in general. Regardless of this fact it is much easier to get services for autism than it is for many other developmental disabilities. This causes an error in statistical book keeping which would undeniably change the statistics of autism. This is actually a hidden benefit for the child “supposedly” or even “falsely” carrying an autistic diagnosis because the child will receive services that they may not have received otherwise. While this doesn’t do much for the social acceptability of many disabilities it might service the individual in an exponentially beneficial manner. In this way the practice becomes morally complicated; but the complication is resolved by a little mantra that has been effectively jack-hammered into our thought process at NYU: the diagnosis is a means to getting services; it has little meaning after the services are granted. Coupled with the fact that autism is a fairly new and admittedly fluid diagnosis it opens the statistical possibility and logistical argument for a wide gamut of topics in the social/political discussion of autism.
In the end I can’t in good conscience subscribe to the school of thought that says vaccines are directly related to the development of autism. I might suggest that it leads to the growing number of diagnosis of autism, but that is a different statement altogether. The argument also opens up a very different discussion. Supposing that vaccines do cause autism, then autism is no longer its own category for disability. There are 13 educational categories for disability where autism resides apart as its own area; if vaccines are linked to be a true cause then it then becomes a part of the “Traumatic Brain Injury” category or is split between its own category and brain injury. This doesn’t really help the situation at all because now you’ve essentially castrated your own cause by redistributing it into another category that has its own set of protocols. Nor has a strong case been made to discontinue vaccinations because of the high incidence of children getting their vaccination and not “contracting” or developing autism or symptoms remotely related.
I was watching an episode of Frontline when I was prompted to write this particular letter to you, Jeremy. There was a woman in the episode who was a writer and a PhD who questioned why vaccinations were given for rotavirus or polio when you would be hard pressed to find incidents of them in the United States at this date and I was shocked. She was from a community in Oregon with one of the highest community percentages of “opt-out” from the federal vaccination program. Her argument was that because children no longer contracted these illnesses that they should be phased out of program. Did it not occur to this highly educated individual that these illnesses were not occurring because of the success and continued practice of vaccination? It’s almost like suggesting the discontinuation of seat belt laws because of all the lives they’ve saved.
Maybe by the time you read this in the year 2035 (when I’m 50 at you’re 25) this will be a moot issue. The cause will have either been discovered or disregarded as ultimately irrelevant. Maybe there will be one vaccination that makes immortals and negates all disability and illness. Science is crazy like that, and I don’t discount anything as impossible. Until then I just have to hope that whatever meds I get put on are worth the anal leakage and impotence—though I’m not sure what that kind of life would be worth.
Love,
Your Father
P.S. This week you went to a barbeque and a birthday party. The birthday party was for your cousin Raziah and you slept right through most of the loud music. It was a joy. In the past week you’ve launched yourself off of the couch with your powerful calves and did a lot of rolling around on the carpet. I am starting to question the movies I show you because you made a very…interesting face…during Terminator 2: Judgment Day…but I probably won’t change. Remember I hold the remote in this house!

August 18th, 2010

2010-08-18T19:12:00.000-07:00

August 18th, 2010

Dear Jeremy,
Well, it seems you will be getting two letters this month; two letters in such close proximity to each other that I can actually lay off the politics and venture into the realm of “pop culture and bullshit” as outlined by the title of the blog in which these letters are made public. I am going to, for once, really talk about me.
It is important to me that in these letters you get a sense of who your father is as a person along with events that are transpiring in confluence with your developmental milestones. I have not yet really stated the purpose of these letters as such—at least not in the body of them—and I feel that it is important that you understand that when I talk to you here about politics, pop culture, and bullshit it is not to inculcate you with my personal view points (hopefully you will be sufficiently brainwashed by our day to day encounters [insert emoticon]) but rather to give you a sense of who your father is; how he grows as you grow and what is transpiring in the world as that happens.
On a morbid note, if something should ever happen to me that you are not able to know me these letters should stand as some sort of testament or dialogue that we can have and I hope that my attempt to communicate with you through them, in that event, are not poor in the sense that you should at least have some sort of idea about your old man. Since I can’t provide sunstone crystals and holograms this is what you get. Enough of this for now and on to the main event.
I am going to start out talking about something which you probably will have no idea about—or even worse will seem to you to be a wheel that gets pushed with a stick in all the “old tyme” representations of my great-grandfather’s youth—8-bit video gaming. When I was a little boy, and I remember this quite clearly, it was my fifth birthday, I received a Nintendo Entertainment System (NES). It was one of the most monumental gifts I had ever received. In retrospect this gift probably had as much impact upon the rest of my life as did the two comic books I would receive from my mother a year later (more about that another time).
Upon the receipt of my NES life was never quite the same. While my childish mind had been opened to a world of imagination and imposed imagination through action figures, television, movies, coloring books, and formative schooling video games had opened up a sort of voyeuristic or vicarious adventure via nigh pixel high heroes such as Super Mario, Link, Ryu Hayabusa, and Jimmy Lee; the likes of whom would have a profound effect not only on the culture of my generation but upon the sensibility of it as well.
In all of the 8-bit glory of two or three leveled synthesized sound and limited graphics the NES was a gateway to a multiverse of action and adventure (or in the case of Trivial Pursuit the Video Game, confusion) that could never be garnered from any other medium. Sure movies had action and adventure but where was the snazzy music? Literature had the allure of the full imaginative process but not the fulfillment of growing in adept skill or thought process that was required for, say, the level 8-4 castle maze in the originals Super Mario Bros. I remember the unbridled excitement I experienced when I one day found a copy of Super Mario 3 under my pillow or the confusion upon what would happen if I used my power pad past midnight (which was a child’s misreading of “do not use for more than 12 hours”…but even so, what happens after 12 hours? Does the earth open up and swallow me and my Nintendo?).
The NES was simultaneously a norm and a status symbol among other children, and the games that you had were what separated a king from the paupers. This was before there was a great many choices of video gaming console to choose from. As a matter of fact that phrase “video gaming console” is almost too institutional for that point in time—the phrase may have been coined at the point but what you had was a Nintendo, or at the most sophisticated a “system”. There were other systems around—there was the Sega Master System and the Atari, and...I dunno fucking Pong or something; the NES was the standard though. They sold NES games in the drugstore, at the gas station, they were covered by your health insurance, and had cereal named after them (only one of those examples is hyperbole, by the way).
(sidebar: for some reason novelty cereals were a staple of the late 1980’s and early 90’s. If there was a movie or fad to be exploited you better be sure there was a cereal to accompany it. While writing this letter I just reminisced with you mother about: Addams Family Cereal, Barbie Cereal, Batman: The Movie Cereal, and Ghostbusters Cereal. There must have been more. The Nintendo Cereal was called the Nintendo Breakfast System and it had two cereals in one box: Super Mario and Legend of Zelda. It was quite a deal, because both sucked catastrophically…as did all of the gimmick cereals.)
Nintendo popped up everywhere: on bed sheets, commercials, television shows (see Super Mario Brothers Super Show). It was bigger than Jesus, or religion at that time; but there were no bon-fires burning the dog from Duck Hunt in effigy. But even it, in its mighty glory could not live forever. Eventually it died out and 8-bit begat 16-bit which evolved to 32 and 64 bit within a single console (in the case of the NES’s successor the Super NES).
The countless hours that my generation spent flicking buttons across multi-generational platforms lead to a significant issue in the way that my generation approaches work and work ethic—we don’t. I’ve heard many rumblings about my generation being overly accustomed to, what is called, instant gratification. Instant gratification is a simple concept—you play a video game, it makes a noise, you like the noise, you repeat the desired result. The time that is put into getting skilled in a particular game is immediately rewarded with an ending, or gamer points (that came later), or whatever it is the game is giving for meeting goals. When it came to, and indeed still does come to life, well things get hairy if you are expecting the same kind of instant gratification. My whole generation expects it, however, on one level or another.
Now I don’t mean to bash your parent’s generation as being complete morons, unable to separate video games from reality, but the formative idea of short term goal equals quick victory totally trumps our sense of long term goal equals nice house. The advent of the internet didn’t help this too much. That’s right, we didn’t always have internet…and we didn’t always have cell phones either…or fetch-a-sketch drawing tablet shopping machines (as a matter of fact I think I just invented that…if that exists when you read this we had better be filthy fucking rich). The internet took a lot of the work out of academia and all of the steam out the music industry in my lifetime.
Gone were the days of hounding a record store for a rare record or tape or CD; gone were the days of holing up in the library and writing a term paper behind a stack of books. By the time I was in college the library was a place for pranks and naps and record stores were renamed “FOR RENT” or worse yet “Starbucks”; yes even coffee became instant gratification with awful yuppie results.
What that instant gratification generation mind-set means is that a lot of us really decided not to achieve. That doesn’t necessarily imply that we didn’t go to college—for example I did and it only took me seven years to finish: that is NOT instant gratification—furthermore not everyone needs to go to college, it isn’t for everybody (slow it down there, Cowboy, it is for you and YOU DO NEED TO GO TO COLLEGE). Many of us didn’t leave home for a long, long time (if we ever did). It’s a part of being “Generation Y” or “The Boomerang Generation” or whatever we end up being called but the fact of the matter is simple: we have, at the time of this letter writing achieved very little.
Maybe that’s unfair. At the time that this letter is being written, I am five days short of being 26 years old. That’s pretty young, right? Plenty of time to achieve, right? Let me tell you at 26 your Grandpa Glenn owned a business, a house, was married for five years, had your mother, and was an accomplished martial artist. Your Great-Grandfather Joe was a mechanic and a farmer, he spoke Polish, Yiddish, German, Russian, was a retired soldier (for what his military tenure was read his book), and was learning English and photography in a new country at 26. At 26, I am not yet qualified to do what I want to do, married, have you, and have…a…large…collection…of comic books…and video games. I hope you see the important differences. I am probably closer to the “go-getter” category than many of my contemporaries by the way.
Which brings us back to the NES. Nintendo and video game technology changed the face of the world. Without it there wouldn’t be as much of a drive for the advancements in computers technology that there has been in the past 21 years since I was given one. I can’t say that as an undeniable truth but there is no doubt a strong truth in what I say. The world has changed around and because of the advancement of the technology of video games, specifically the 8-Bit Nintendo Entertainment System. As the industry has grown from there and the quality of art work and music has grown in sophistication and maturity during that time is both a boon and a loss for the art of the genre. These is something irresistible about 8-bit gaming in its appearance, its sound, and its feel—and it isn’t nostalgia. There’s an ingenuity to it. The sprites had to be simple and convey as real objects, the sounds had to remind you of other sounds. They were representations not presentations and something about that was really good for the soul—but also really bad.
Hopefully by the time you read this letter, when I am 50 and you are 25 my generation will have done something to make them great, or at least something will have happened to make us memorable. Because as it stands now all we have is the Konami Code (if you don’t know what that is, then I have failed you son. Father Fail). Now either get to playing some video games or get into college, right now. Or do one than the other. I’m still cool…

Love,
Your Father
P.S.- The day I wrote this we spent the day with your Grandpa Kenny. We went out to lunch with him and ran a few errands. I was still off from school and you were a big hit everywhere we went. You happen to be a really good baby, and thanks to the urging of your mother, you are really quite good in public places because you go out so much. Grandpa Kenny played with you all afternoon and held you then took a nap on the couch. Then you took a nap. Then I played video games while you both slept. Good times. Also I haven’t had a cigarette in 18 days. So I got that going for me too. Let’s see if that lasts.

August 5th, 2010

2010-08-04T22:17:00.000-07:00

August 5th, 2010
Dear Jeremy,
I want to weigh in on an event that transpired some eight and a half years before you were born—or rather a current debate that has everything to do with it. Y’see there was a day in my senior year of high school, it was the day of senior assembly as a matter of fact, and this day was absolutely insane. It was like a damned made for cable movie and nobody knew nothing about anything.
I was in a first period math class at the start of the first full week of the school year. As the class was drawing to a close I saw a crowd gathering by a large bay window down the hallway; the teacher has allowed me to go see what the commotion was—the tone was calm and, for lack of a better word, chill. As I looked across Jamaica Bay at the stunning view Beach Channel High School had of Manhattan I noticed one of the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center had quite a bit of black smoke rising out of it. Some of the adults were saying an airplane had flown into it. I remember thinking that the day was incredibly clear but that it must have been an accident.
I won’t spend too much time harping on my personal experience of September 11th but I will say that the day itself was, as I stated before absolutely insane. Rumors were flying abound; planes and missiles had hit the Supreme Court, the Pentagon, Sears Tower, The White House, a field in Pennsylvania. Some of this was true some was not but it was hard to tell especially in the face of what we were seeing from the school windows: a black cloud of ash hiding Manhattan from plain sight. I remember teachers running around wildly trying to get spouses, friends, and family members on the phone; adults and students were crying in the hall way. I was scared to make the short subway ride home because, shit, who knew what was going on—someone had declared war on fucking America and it wasn’t aliens. It was surreal and frightening.
As time wore on facts came to light about who perpetrated these atrocious acts and why. Osama bin Laden and his Al Qaeda terrorist organization had decided that the decadence of America in particular and the West in general could no longer be suffered on this earth. With the promise of a seemingly impossible afterlife he sent zealots and murderers into our midst to symbolically destroy everything we stand for as a nation: individual liberty, freedom of religion and speech, and the equity of races/genders/creeds/etcetera. The idea was to make us run from our way of life.
This “man” bin Laden has not, as of yet, been brought to justice. He probably won’t be and there is small solace in the fact that he will die in a cave—a lavish and comfortable cave but a cave nonetheless. There is small solace in the fact that, assuming there is an afterlife, that the murderers of that day have probably not found themselves in a tropical paradise with some gratuitous number of virgins to spend eternity with—their destination is, hopefully, far warmer than they had hoped with a great many more pointy things that do not originate from them but reside in them all the same.
Brandied about was a new patriotism in America in a Post-9/11 world. A patriotism that declares “These Colors Don’t Run”; a patriotism that put Osama’s face on urinal cakes; and most importantly a patriotism that promises to “Never Forget”. And perhaps we haven’t forgotten—not the shock, nor the pain, nor the betrayal of our illusion of safety but we have forgotten the reason. We were attacked to change and destroy our way of life. To deconstruct our sense of separation of church and state, the right to believe whatever one wants to believe, and to act or practice those beliefs—so long as it doesn’t infringe on the rights of others.
Which brings us to the present day. The rebuilding of the World Trade Center site, dubbed Ground Zero for the far better part of the last decade, has been halted by every imaginable entity that seems to think it has the right: the land owner, the insurance company, the architect, the Port Authority, the local government, the 9/11 families, financial problems, the public at large. Monkey wrench after monkey wrench as the festering wound of the attack lays physically unrepaired—a crucial part of the psychological healing process has not occurred. Symbolically we have not yet bounced back with just about 13 months to go until the decade mark will be reached. And now, scandal strikes.
An Islamic entity has purchased a building that had a 757 Engine crash through it on 9/11 and they wish to convert it into a mosque and community center living in the shadow of the World Trade Center (or as it is now its ruins). You could not begin to imagine the uproar—and I won’t argue with its sentiment. While the mosque is being touted as a memorial in itself to the victims of the attacks many see it as a slap in the face. The proposed name for the site is “Cordova House” which has a deep a long history in Islam as a name associated with Muslim conquest.
Shit, Jeremy, if they ain’t right this time. They are. It is a slap in the face, and honestly who knows where the money is coming from? Right. I mean not all Muslims are terrorists but all terrorists are Muslims (except for the IRA, Irgun, Shining Path, The Weather Underground, The Ku Klux Klan, Revolutionary Struggle, and had they lost The Continental Army among many others). Not to compare any of these groups to another of course but this is a wild accusation to make. This kind of gross exaggeration is the same sort that started many a-bad rumblings in Europe during the 1920’s and 30’s against Jews. In fact I have heard these very same similar arguments from survivors of those horrid times applied today (and I have gently tried to remind them of how they sound). The malcontented parties are so blinded by their outrage that they have demanded legal recourse in blocking the mosque from being built.
This is exactly the point where the terrorist act of 9/11 emerges victorious. The moment we become exactly like them. Regardless of propriety in the sense of taste and manner, and in many—many—ways respect and respect for the dead the very moment we infringe on the American cornerstone of freedom of religion and the right to own land on the basis of our prejudices we have become no better than the zealots who attacked American. At least in principal—I am not saying that blocking the mosque is paramount to a mini-9/11, what I am saying is that we will have become just as intolerant as they are. It is our tolerance and there-and-by our freedom that was attacked—it is our moral duty to take the high road in this matter, at least legally and allow this mosque to be built. The law of the land cannot stand in the way—it balks the constitution to do so. I dare a single person to say the constitution should be ignored in this sense, especially a conservative given the climate the President has had to deal with in passing laws and the sanctity of the constitution—you will discredit your every argument in American politics forevermore if you do.
For the sake of clarity however I do feel it my duty to say “I don’t want that fucking mosque built. It shouldn’t be there. It’s in bad taste and a slap in the face” but this is America, dammit. I’ve heard people say “why can’t we build a church or synagogue in Mecca?” and to that all I can say is: Mecca is not in America. If it were it would probably have a synagogue and a church and it would certainly have a McDonald’s and a Starbucks. The people can make it very uncomfortable to have a mosque there however—civil disobedience is allowed. Commerce can make it very uncomfortable—construction workers don’t have to work there and companies don’t have to take the contract—if they believe so strongly it shouldn’t be there they will pass up the work; even in this dismal economy. The people who disagree can do every non-violent and legal thing they want. Shit, they could get the permit and open a pig slaughter house on every adjoining wall to the building and be within their rights to do so, but the law cannot and should not intercede. They have every American legal right to build wherever they want that they can manage to purchase.
People won’t do any of that, I don’t think. They will sit and pretend their hands are tied and that the world is cow-towing to Islam the same way the Jews were accused of being cow-towed to for hundreds of years. They will sit and talk about what a shame it is that the government did nothing and how the honored dead have been forsaken. They have not. If this mosque is built it is legal and constitutional and those two things are the levies of equity that were attacked on 9/11, if not physically than symbolically.
Son, I gotta tell ya people don’t know how to be thorough and this country is getting greedy and exclusive and ugly (or maybe it always were and we thought otherwise in the past). Just remember this, when you block someone from building a mosque I guaran-goddamn-tee you the next thing that gets blocked is a synagogue, and then a church, and then a minority owned grocery, then a low income health clinic, then the press. Then we’ll have no rights. It’s a slippery slope to take rights away from some groups but not mine. The moment that happens your rights become other people’s advantages.

Love,
Your Father

P.S. This past month you had a cold. You ran a fever. We all caught it. In was during my last week of summer session. Thanks for that. You started sleeping in your crib, in your own room, and we started using our awesome video baby monitor. You rolled over from both sides. You weighed in at over 15 pounds and measured at over 2 feet…long. You got a swing, a play pen, and an awesome black Cadillac looking bouncer. I am off for the whole month of August and it’s just you and me pal…so please stop waking up at 6 in the morning! I love you dearly but I am on vacation!

June 25, 2010

2010-06-25T12:12:00.000-07:00

June 25, 2010
Dear Jeremy,
Whew! It’s been a while since I last wrote but it’s been a very busy time for your father and for the world (in my own defense I do see you every day in the present). All the same let’s get you caught up! Well since I last wrote to you I started my Master’s Degree. By now I’m sure you are sick of stories about when I was getting my degree at NYU and how I had to run all around the Village going to class and buying books and reading in the middle of the night—but that’s where I’m at right now. Professionally, I’ve been working hard on Eat Your Serial.com which, by now has made us mega rich and you are reading this letter off of a hologram, projected out of a diamond, embedded in platinum, in the bathroom. (And if not shame on you, Shawn Abraham!) Your mother just started her fancy director job at a health insurance company and you spend your days with Grandma Bernie and Chewy the Wonder Dog.
Since we last spoke several important events have happened environmentally. There was a big volcanic explosion that covered Europe, there were big earthquakes around the world, there was a big oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, and the United States is all a tingle with Soccer-Fever. All of these events surely are signs of the end of times and I will tackle them one by one:
The Volcano. There’s not really too much to speculate about here, it’s really just a sign that the world is pissed off. We come over, we make a mess, and we never wash the dishes. We play the music late and loud, we stomp our feet, and never pull out the garbage pails. Yes, in the year 2035 when I’m 50 and you’re 25 the world will probably have many green technologies initiated in Obama’s (second) term. But right now from where we live, the world is a little better than 30 years ago but not good enough.
All the same the volcano in Iceland blocked all air traffic and cut Europe off from the world as a thick black cloud hung over it. Historians argued that it was Earth saying “Who’s Eurocentric now, bitches?” but others argued that it was just a bad burrito. Seriously though there have been many crazies who are heeding concerns that the world will end in 2012 and that these geological events are the precursor to that apocalypse. It was for a lot of people with business to attend to that week. People did not know what to do without their Europe; and some people wishing to be rid of their Europe were stuck there. I suppose neither is a situation you really want to be in.
The earthquakes. Well, here’s the thing…there have been quite a few earthquakes recently, I’ve gotta say. There’s Haiti, Chile, Cuba, and Baja California. That’s a lot of damn earthquakes. Realistically though, earthquakes happen all the time—probably far more often than women lie to men about. Little tectonic shifts and plates grinding is a natural part of living on earth, it happens. The real doozey in this year’s earthquake situation was how poorly prepared Haiti was. The entire country almost literally fell to pieces. That’s not even slightly comparable to an orgasm—sorry nobody ever made the earth move like that in bed. Um, yeah, you’re a baby now but you’ll know what I’m saying when you read this…or maybe when you read it again later on. It was no laughing matter though—the celebrities came out and made music and cried on T.V. and raised a lot of money for the millions of effected Haitians. Then T.V. got tired of it and we all forgot all about the scary earthquakes. Then they had some more and people started talking that 2012 hoodoo again. It keeps coming up.
Then there’s the oil spill. This one is a bit of a story. And we’ll have to talk about our friend the President again. Y’see a bunch of liberal nay sayers like me got very upset a few months back when President Obama said he was going to open up the idea of off-shore drilling on the east coast. Off-shore drilling, my son, is the drilling for fossil fuel (oil) that is turned into gasoline, and motor oil, and plastic, and all others really fun sorts of things. The problem with drilling in general and particularly on water is that if for some reason the oil should be released and uncontained it’s a very sticky problem. Literally. Oil floats on top of water, blocks out the sun which kills that life in the water and covers all the birds and other creatures that rely on the ocean to live. We’ve been reassured that if for some reason one of the off-shore rigs were to have a problem that the oil-drilling companies had this great plan—they couldn’t tell us what it was though because if the oil heard the plan it wouldn’t work.
All the same we believed there was a plan and Obama said “Hey guys, since you have a plan let’s do some off shore drilling because that the exact same thing as green technology”. Off-shore drilling by the way is the same thing as green technology in the same way that vanilla is the same thing as a basketball. Not even opposites—totally incompatible and furthermore one ruins the other. If you really want vanilla ice cream and get a cold basketball it kind of ruins the whole experience—it’s not like you got chocolate and had to make due. Anyway…
Shortly after Obama said this, shocking both his constituency and his detractors, there was a major explosion in an off-shore rig in the Gulf of Mexico. There was a huge oil spill that is still spilling actually, right now (and unless they do something soon will still be spilling in 2035 when I’m 50 are you’re 25). Rush Limbaugh made an off color comment about how Obama and Greenpeace probably caused the explosion so they could say “We were gonna try it but look what happened!” and that’s the first thing that occurred to me as well; not because I agree with Rush but rather because I read a lot of sci-fi.
It was time for BP (the Oil Company in question) to employ their “off-shore oil spill plan”. The CEO, Tony Hayward, being a proper British gentleman proceeded to go into his file cabinet and pull out the folder labeled “Clusterfuck Agenda and Protocols”. He opened it up, sat down with a spot of tea, and read the “there really is no plan” section and decided it was time to start just thinking of things at random. They had a huge problem on their hands. They tried putting mud in the hole, they tried putting a cap on it, and they tried asking it really nicely to stop flowing. Nothing seems to be working. If the plan was “when there’s an oil spill lets fuck up the local ecology” then that plan gets an A+.
This was over a month ago. The Gulf of Mexico is functionally destroyed—not beyond repair but certainly beyond use at the moment. The entire Gulf coast is black with the decomposed bodies of dinosaurs and prehistoric creatures (flash fact: that’s what oil is made of! That’s why they call it “fossil fuel”). The estimates of how much oil is spilling into the gulf are measured in terms of “hundreds of thousands of gallons” and “hours”. It’s a big mess. And people seem to be blaming everyone—including BP (who is at fault) and the President (who is obviously omnipotent and could make water flow against gravity if Henry Louis Gates asked him to).
So the question is who is to blame? Is it the company that didn’t have a plan or the country that didn’t have a plan? I’d say both with more blame placed on the company, but only a little more. First, this isn’t Obama’s poor planning alone on the part of the government. This is probably a several administrations deep lack of planning. Obama was the man in the Oval Office when it happened so it’s his cross to bear—that’s how it works. The government should have sent in the Army Corps of Engineers along with every other scientist they could find the moment this happened. Waiting on BP to show up with their “master plan” or relying on them to come up with one after the fact was the wrong move but it doesn’t exonerate BP, or any oil companies from not having a plan (I assume the other companies don’t have plans either because if they did they would have shared one by now—and if they are keeping a secret plan they should be hung by their balls over a pit of leeches and spikes). The only people who could really fix this problem are either fictional or dead. Batman or Reed Richards would certainly have a plan. I’m sure Jack Kirby could design a machine that fixed the problem and looked awesome. But since that’s not an issue it seems as if they may not be able to stop the leak until 2012.
I guess to sum this all up 2010 is turning out to be a year with a lot of history to it. Record breaking earthquakes! Record breaking oil spill! Has it occurred to anyone the volcanoes and earthquakes are the ghosts of dinosaurs getting their revenge for our desecration of their bodies? Oh yeah, and the other thing…Americans interested in Soccer! The World Cup is currently being held in South Africa and it’s all the rage with American’s this year (apparently we have a good squad, or team, or unit or whatever they call those giant foosball groups). Maybe we’ll win the world cup and prove that even with no money for student MetroCards, no resources to stop oil spills, or ways to keep New York State from going bankrupt the United States will always have plenty of money to be the best in sports! At least we can realistically say the world probably won’t end in 2012…but then again Sarah Palin has been awfully visible in the political media. Maybe the world will get to do some ending after all.
Love,
Your Father

P.S. You’ve started rolling over, you’ve started teething. You have a doctor’s appointment in two days and I fully expect him to say you’ve topped 15 pounds. We’ve been watching a lot of cartoons together including Full Metal Alchemist, Aeon Flux, Dragonball Z, Avatar the Last Airbender, and The Animatrix. I’m trying to train you up good and nerdy like. You’re eating blended foods that Mommy makes for you. You like carrots, you like oatmeal, you tolerate peas, and you seem to like avocado. Don’t tell anyone but I gave you some chocolate ice cream—you REALLY like that (and you should have seen the poop).

April 23, 2010

2010-04-23T17:07:00.000-07:00

April 23, 2010

Dear Jeremy,
As I’m sure you already know race is and always has been a hot button topic in our fair land. You are, by now, no stranger to this phenomenon. For the past two years (since 2008) there have been some that have been lauding the American “Post-Racial Era”. I hope that by the time you read this we have entered such a time—as a matter of fact I hope somebody, anybody, just one person has entered this era by the time you read this. I’m sure that we will by the year 2035 when I am 50 and your are 25.
Today, there are those that would like to believe that prejudice on the basis of race, most specifically the basis of African heritage (but any race will do), is a thing of the past. This is ignorance. It is even further ignorance for those who feel that even though they do not themselves harbor prejudice are not part of the racism that occurs. This is wrong on two counts: one, they are not exempt; two, the system is pervasive and apparent everywhere. It may be reasonable to state, however, that you are far less likely as a minority to be hosed on the street or to be attacked by police dogs.
Now race is a funny thing because even though it is the most readily identifiable part of your identity it is the one you have almost no control over. My whole life I have been white while in reality I am not. This is an easy mistake to make because I was raised Jewish and as Puerto Ricans go our family is pale due to our eventual Iberian roots. This paleness, coupled with the identification I have with the Jewish culture has allowed me to successfully navigate my life as an American as an unidentifiable white person—a disguise of hue and an almost “chameleonesq” feat.
To clarify: in reality Jews are not white people, not in the sense that one might think. Jews have always been separate, segregated, and different from whatever group they lived in proximity to. It was not until their assimilation in the United States had progressed well into the second and third generation during the 20th century that through business, education, and social migration did American Jewry start to be classified as white people—and this assimilation is tentative at best. American racism has always maintained the distinction of the Jew as the Christ-Killer, the Money Lender, The Conniver, The Schemer, and the Shylock.
My personal connection to Puerto Rico and my heritage there found does not extend much further than family spent holidays and that which emanates from festive kitchens. There is no one to blame for this—it was a simple matter of circumstance. My exposure to Puerto Rican heritage was somewhat weak sauce—though I must note my exposure to my family certainly was not. It is difficult to put a label on the disconnect, but most importantly it is safe to say that a large part of it is that I am neither Catholic nor am I Spanish speaking.
Navigating the meaning of being two has been a large part of my inner struggle in becoming a man actualizing himself in the world. I spent a great deal of time exploring the notion of being what I dubbed a “Shade of Grey” in my last two semesters of my undergrad studies. I explored myself through others who also were of more than one race or culture in America and I found that the confusing experience is not mine alone. While I was in the midst of this study your mother and I discovered that you were on your way to us from the…let’s say stork. Your mother is also of more than one heritage—as you know she was raised Jewish as well as I was and is somewhat disconnected from her mother’s Filipino heritage. The child we would create, you, would be of three.
What will race mean to you? At almost seven weeks old we can hardly tell. You look like my face on your mother’s shaped head—who knows what the hell that amounts to? We have absolutely no idea what race you will present as and, for the most part, we could give a flying fuck. You are our son and we love you despite your color (though I am glad you didn’t come out black—that’s a different issue altogether), shape, ability, intelligence, and choices you make. The only thing that concerns me is how it will affect you. I always identified first as a New Yorker, then as an American, then as a Jew, then as a mixed race person appearing white (the last one is a mouthful I know). Then again, you won’t have to deal with these issues. These are not the issues of someone living in a post-racial era.
We have now returned to my original contention. There is no post-racial era. People have their prejudices hard wired into them—tolerance of them varies from person to person, region to region, and so on. Despite the race of our President, the shades of our Academy Award winners, the plots of our favorite movies we all have our own feelings about race and people of certain races. We all fall prey to stereotyping and slurs.
This lack of post-racial era is, at least to me, evidenced in the severe backlash President Obama has been receiving from many quarters. There is a deep resentment and counter current to the initiatives of our current political administration. Some of them are well thought and, quite honestly, reasonable objections—many fear his healthcare reform is unsustainable, many feel taxpayer bailouts are misappropriation, many feel nuclear power and offshore drilling are dangerous. These are reasonable claims.
In respect to those claims there is a group of people who, granted have slowly faded into the background, called “Birthers”. These “Birthers” claim that the President was not born in the United States—even though the State of Hawaii has verified he was—and they claim that he is Muslim and not Christian—though they also often reference his pastor, Reverend Wright, in their rhetoric against him. The “Birther” movement is a walking contradiction of racism.
I say this, not because the President is black (and really half black—but his one drop of black blood makes him 100% black) but rather because of his name. Barack Hussein Obama is certainly not an analogue to John Fitzgerald Kennedy and given the country’s disillusionment with all things Islamic since the tragedy of 9/11 it is amazing he was elected at all. The “Birther” argument is rooted almost entirely in racism and fallacy. For example I have several times been presented with a link (http://web.archive.org/web/20040627142700/eastandard.net/headlines/news26060403.htm) that claims the President admitted to being Kenyan born. The site is a fabrication. While the newspaper it supposes to be taken from is real I challenge anybody to use that link to get news from any other day. You cannot. Some racist concocted the site and has distributed it throughout the internet. Those who want to believe the President has been elected illegally will not take a step further in checking out the site’s validity.
I have no doubt that a great many of these Birthers would not argue Colin Powell’s legality to be President, and have the utmost respect for that man. They cannot respect a man that the General endorsed however, because of his name. Instead of simply disagreeing with his politics in a normal manner the legitimacy of his right to serve is in question. This racism, which is an irrational mindset to begin with, starts to tilt at windmills and make ridiculous accusations. Maybe he’s a terrorist. Maybe he’s a communist. Who knows? No “Birther” will admit he is a liberal with an agenda they don’t want and a name they can’t trust—so they Photoshop pictures of the President with a turban on and call it legitimate protest.
Racism becomes apparent in many other debates in our country too, son. One that I find particularly confusing is racial profiling. I know that racial profiling occurs—it’s a fancy word for stereotyping. If there is a random bag check at the Subway station and 5 white men walk through and 5 black men walk through I have no doubt more black men then white men will be checked. I don’t need a statistic for that. The problem that bothers me is when a suspect fits a description accurately is it racial profiling? If you have a description for a black male between 25 and 30 driving a white sedan and you stop an innocent man fitting that description was it racial profiling? I don’t know.
When schools in underfunded urban areas fail and the government shuts them down for poor grades is it because the schools fail? Or is it because a system that is reliant on property tax to support its public schooling cannot sustain the amount of people that live in rent situations in large American cities? That this causes inner city schools to be underequipped for the amount of students they receive, the teachers to be underpaid for the over tally they must teach, and offer them no materials to get the job done? Why aren’t the tax dollars distributed in such a way as to make education equal for all children? I’m sure this won’t be a problem in the post-racial world you’ll live in Jeremy. I must sound like an old man screaming at the wind to you. Right?
That has to be the case. I am just an old man raging at ghosts that have long since been exorcized. In the far off year of 2035 when you are 25 and I am 50 we will be living in a post-racial America. Everyone will be treated equally and all the issues I’ve raised and more will be moot. They’ll be a joke, even. Americans will all be grey skinned, will worship the all mighty dollar, and will respect all races equally. Except of course for gays. We’ll never like them. Guess that’s something to work on next.
Love,
Your Father
P.S. This week we had a big welcoming party for you. Over a hundred people came to welcome you to the world. You had a huge fart that your Mother and Grandma Bernie thought was hilarious and you visited me at work. Chewy tried to feed you a noodle and got upset when you didn’t want it. You took 7 ounces from a bottle in one feeding and you watched Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan for the first time but Mommy turned it off before we could get to the end. She said it was boring. We know better!

2010-04-15T18:27:00.000-07:00

April 15^th, 2010

Dear Jeremy,

What a world you’ve been born into! Both conservative and liberal pundits alike cannot believe the everythings that are going on with anything at all. Being that you are not yet six weeks old I should probably explain to you…quite a few things as only your father can.

We live in a country based on progress and forward thinking. The Constitution of the United States, at the time of its ratification, was the most liberal and progressive document ever to be written; forging the most radical form of government seen since the times of the Ancient Greeks and Romans. It is what is called a “living document”. It can actually be changed to reflect the needs of a growing nation and to correct the oversights of its authors. While these changes are not easy to make—nor should they be—the authors were forward thinking enough to know that for the country to grow (see: progress) it would have to roll with the punches. Therefore with the ratification of that most secularly sacred document was borne the United States’ long tradition of admitting its imperfections and striving to correct them for the greater good. Unfortunately the direction of progress and, furthermore, the direction in which we, as a nation, move forward is up to debate.

These criteria have very general and ambiguous definitions that can cause quite a few disagreements amongst, well…just about everybody. You see, Jeremy, even though your father considers himself to be an independent thinker he is not, as you will no doubt one day be aware, a unique thinker. Unique thinkers are a rare breed of person that, more often than not find themselves secretly being fed pills in their mashed potatoes. Due to this I have to ascribe, in one form or the other, a political agenda, leaning, or label to my position. I chose liberalism (not to be confused with absurdity).

At any rate, there are in the United States two very broad schools of defining progress and forward thinking. I am squarely in the one that defines them as progress and forward thinking. Confusing? Let me explain the opposite side of the coin. The other definition describes progress as slowly and surely making certain that everything stays exactly the same forever—it disguises all of its old notions as new notions and paints them as forward thinking.

For example: what was once “Reganomics” is now being called “fiscal conservatism”. This is the idea that if you make sure that the rich get richer they will have no choice but to discard their unwanted crumbs to the ground for the poor to scoop up and be glad for— and they’ll do this because of a moral imperative to drop crumbs. Then the rich meet the poor and get married…no wait…that’s the Story of Ruth…sorry. This “trickle-down theory” works much the same way as if I were to give you the thing you wanted most in the world and then you decided to give it to a stranger, just for kicks. As your Daddy always says, Jeremy, “A person can be good but people are no damned good” and because of the cynical truth of these words “trickle-down theory” rarely wields the desired results.

“Fiscal Conservatism” is the generational evolution of that theory—much as you are the generational evolution of me. It’s basic fundamentals revolve around the ideal that a government exists only to protect people from bullets and bombs but not hunger, mental or physical illness, ignorance, or homelessness. To be fair social services are very taxing—both on the pockets of the citizenry and the resources of the government. As I told you before, my son, the disagreements lay in the definitions. The issue here is the definition of protection in a capitalist, free market society.

Those who propel the “Fiscal Conservatism” ideology are also unmitigated believers in an entirely free market economic system—or so they think. Free market capitalism has not existed in the United States since, at least, the Sherman Anti-Trust Act of 1890 (which was 120 years before your birth). This law was, in fact, a government restriction of unfair company and trust policies that, most importantly, limited the ability of a company or corporation to corner a market and abolish all competition (see: monopoly). In short it was the end of truly free market capitalism because it established the precedent of the government regulating the affairs of an independent enterprise. Ergo, many of the people raging against the machine of liberalism today are angry at laws that were passed before their grandparents were born.

The side of the liberals is equally disappointing, I am sad to report. I hope by the time that you read this the absurd choices that are being made have panned out positively. You see, boy, the man in the Office of the President at this time has confused both his opponents and his constituency with many of his decisions and initiatives. You have been born into something of an economic low tide. When President Obama’s predecessor, Mr. Bush, was in office the conservative pundits were calling the current phenomenon an “economic downturn” but as soon as the Obama Administration took over it was dubbed an all out “depression” in rhetoric if not in actuality. It matters very little that the precipitating factors in this “depression” were well rooted in the Bush administration’s artificial inflation of the economy by removing lending restrictions and its transformation of surplus to deficit with one ill advised war and one mishandled one. When the shit hit the fan the ball was in Obama’s court.

Perception is reality, young man, as I’m sure you’ll learn in the world you’ll be sure to occupy—full of androids that look human, hologram newscasts, and virtual reality classrooms on the moon. Labels, much like my political affiliations, can be misleading—what was downturn in one reign has been transmogrified into depression in another. The disheartening scenario is that given the legislative blank check that the current administration was issued most of the first quarter of its term was squandered. President Obama has been acting like Prime Minister Obama in the sense that a President is a short term king who must answer to the elders and the warriors (the Supreme Court and Congress) to reign in his actions. A Prime Minister attempts to direct the actions of a legislative body (Congress) into creating legislation. A lot of time was wasted when the President did not issue his own health care reform bill to be revised by his checks and balances. The bill was, of course, passed but it took far too long for a super-majority, filibuster proof congress to pass. Meanwhile lackluster and seemingly impotent jobs bills have been passed over and over to little avail.

Liberal constituencies have been expecting a new Deal with comprehensive infrastructure building, short term labor jobs for the unemployed, and stimulus money for Mom and Pop shops. What we got were Nobel Prize speeches and offshore drilling. While there have been good strides with the overdue health care reform, nuclear arms limitations, and dubious military pullout schedules it is hardly the revitalizations we have been hoping for. I hope you see them now, from when you are reading this. With their supermajority in serious jeopardy with the looming November elections it seems the liberals have squandered their time trying to please everyone and getting nothing instead of pleasing most and getting something.

Meanwhile, conservatives scrambling for congressional seats seem to see the strides that are being made and are slapping further labels they do not understand on progress. Those labels are “communism” and “socialism”. Firstly, in abstract reality, there is no such thing as communism. It’s a common misnomer taken from a certain manifesto outlining “socialism”. This “socialism” thing has existed in our democratic republic since the New Deal in 1933 (during the youth of most of your Great-Grandparents’ lives). It was expanded further and further exponentially until the mid 1970’s (during the youth of your Grandparents’ lives). This socialism takes the form of many services offered in your time—unemployment benefits, children’s protection services, social security, and disability benefits (and to some extent even earlier than these are the Fire Department, the Military, the Police, and almost all government agencies that are funded and “owned” by the tax payer). So either spades are now being called spades or conservatives are again raging against machines that are old enough to tell them war stories. Either way the debate is really a day late and a dollar short.

Unfortunately there is very little I can do to wrap this up for you in this letter. It is a never-ending debate. How do we define forward thinking and progress as our national modus operandi? I would like to think it would be by expanding equal rights to all parties—defining heath care as a right and not a benefit, marriage as an option for any two human beings, and transparency as a financial imperative for government bodies—but who knows? Maybe yer ol’ dads got it all wrong. I don’t really know—I just go with my gut. The only thing I can tell you for certain—if you walk away from this letter with any singular truth—let it be this: all authority figures are full of shit. They only look out for their own. Especially Daddy.

Love,

Your Father

P.S. At your last check up you were twenty-one inches long and nine pounds and ten ounces. The day I wrote this letter we went for a walk with Mommy, Grandma Bernie, and Chewy. You had a bath after you spit up a whole bottle and it was tax day.