Holding steady

Nope.  He's not here yet.

We had a doctor appt. today.  According to our esteemed medical professional, whom we like very much, our son is somewhere in between 8.5 and 9.5 pounds.  He's a big kid (he certainly did not get this from me), and my wife doesn't like her doctor as much today as she did yesterday.

Given his size, we've been advised to take proper action, so baring his arrival before, we'll be going to the hospital Friday morning at 6, where they will induce my wife.  Sometime that day (hopefully-I am not letting her read this) we will officially become parents.

I can't really put together how I feel right now.  I suppose I am nervous.  Mentally I do not feel nervous.  Physically I feel like the most nervous person ever.  I feel like a low electrical current is going through my body.  I tell myself that I am not nervous.  It doesn't seem to be working.

About fifteen minutes ago both of us sort of looked at each other and said "is this really happening?"  We've been looking at baby stuff strewn around the house for the last month or so, and it has had the effect on us as if we were only playing house.  What does it take to get the realization of this?  Do we have to wait until we can physically see him?  That's the only thing I haven't been able to figure out about this, why I have this "no, this isn't really happening" feeling.  Not that I don't want it to, more like someone telling us "oops, sorry, we made a mistake."

It's completely irrational.  I guess I thought maybe that I'd never have an irrational thought again.

For the last time, a fatherless random eleven:

1. "The Man's Too Strong"-Dire Straits.  Of course it's possible to make baby connotations about everything that comes up here, but this makes me laugh.  This is one of those songs that make me want to learn the acoustic guitar.

2. "To Go Beyond"-Enya.  My grandmother died on July 14, 1995.  It was during one of the hottest stretches of weather in Chicago history (she was not a victim of the heat) and that night, when I went to sleep in my roasting apartment, I left the CD player on.  I woke up at three AM to this song, and had one of those "I get it, she's OK" moments.  Changes the song forever, obviously, and makes me think fondly of the only grandparent I got to spend any meaningful time with.  Man, she was fun; everything a grandma is supposed to be.

3. "Rocket"-Smashing Pumpkins.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Repeat for the rest of the day.

4. "Miss Halfway"-Anya Marina.  I heard this on NPR (I think it was "Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me") one day and downloaded it shortly afterwards.  Imagine my horror when I found out it had been featured earlier on "Grey's Anatomy."

5. "White City Fighting"-Pete Townshend.  I'm sure that I have mentioned it before but the "White City" album is my favorite album ever, and always will be.  It's not possible that any piece of music released in the future will ever top it.  Had this album not come out in the summer of 1985 (so I could play it to death in the fall of '85), I might not be the person I am today.  Suffice to say it played a big part and getting me through one of the hardest moments of my life.

6. "Lazy Days"-Enya.  I have no dead person story to tell with this one.  Make a joke here about how all my lazy days are about to end forever-actually I'm not worried about that.  I am looking forward to days of exploration with my little boy.  I can't wait for the first time he discovers airplanes, cars, trains, etc.  I could make a list of one thousand things.  The first twenty-five seconds of this song are as strong as any intro I've ever heard.  I can listen to it over and over again.  In fact, I just did.  Seven times.

7. "It's Money That Matters"-Randy Newman.  With a strong assist from Mark Knoppfler on guitar (which with # 1 gives him two appearances a la Miss Enya.  Of all of the people that I used to know/Most never adjusted to the great big world.  This is the only Randy Newman song that doesn't make me want to break something and then impale myself on a spike.  All of these people/are much brighter than I/In any fair system they would flourish and thrive/But they barely survive/they eke out a living/they barely survive.

8. "Oceanside"-Robyn Hitchcock and the Egyptians.  I saw this band in '89 opening for REM in Iowa City and had no idea who they were for about five years until I went into a used CD shop next to my apartment and the owner gave me this.  I'd love to know if they played this song.  Wish I'd paid closer attention.  Stick around for the hum at the end.

9. "Miss Sarajevo"-Passengers.  Better known as U2.  Pavarotti (I know I spelled that wrong-oops, maybe not.  Why is he in spell check?) has a solo at the end of this of which I have no clue what he is actually singing.  This makes me think of a documentary I saw a long time ago about Sarajevo during the war, when they had the Miss Sarajevo Beauty Pageant.  At the end, the dozen or so ladies in competition came out on stage dressed in one-piece bathing suits and high heels, posed for a moment or two, and then unfurled a banner that said "Please don't let them kill us."  It's impossible to ever forget that.

10. "Me and Sarah Jane"-Genesis.  I've known one Sara in my life, I think, and one Jane.  I have never met anyone named Sarah Jane. 

11. "Crazy Love Vol. II"-Paul Simon.  I don't know where Vol. I is.  I always think of Fat Charlie as someone else when I hear this song, someone who was not an architect but had the same bevy of problems he seems to have in this song.

Keep the car running