As usual, these are all beautifully written. Bold and brave and heartbreakingly real. You’ve laid it all out with such raw clarity and nuance and there’s a quiet kind of grace in that. The kind that lets other people exhale because they are allowed the opportunity to see themselves reflected in someone else’s human story. To recognize themselves in someone else’s unwashed truth, not just the neat and tidy highlight reel shit that so many other people put out into the world. I hope this post finds the people who need it most. It deserves to. You’ve done something powerful here. I love you a lot!
The good, the bad, the ugly; you always see it and feel it all. This one came full circle back to the good in Jawn 11. I agree with Arle. There’s power in this one.
I think Arle said it best - "heartbreakingly real." Great writing, and I so appreciate the raw honesty. These Jawns provide me such a great opportunity to see "themselves reflected" in your completely "human story." I appreciate it.
Coincidentally (thinking back to your Thunder Pie from a couple weeks ago), Bruce's Human Touch came on as I was writing this. These Father Jawns and that totally 1992 sounding opening track have transported me back to think about things through my younger mind. There's something about the way the drums are recorded that just transports me in time to being 21, dum and full of (something), watching music videos with Herb Ritts photographs, faded jeans and black t-shirts.
And speaking of great stepparent characters of modern western culture, I also caught myself thinking about Dwight Yoakam's Doyle Hardgrave character in Sling Blade... "go on git me my guitar from the garage"- you've sent me to an older different place homeslice. I feel like tonight will be a 57 channels and nothing on kinda night. Sorry, you just got my mind wandering.
Father’s Day. Just another made up holiday, created to sell greeting cards and bolster hamburger and hot dog sales at the supermarket. But, I’ve alway enjoyed that little extra bit of attention—and let’s face it, it’s literally a minute or so—that I get from my kids. My kids, who are now all adults, yet still enjoy hanging with their old man. Two of my kids who are now parents, themselves; one, my son, a Father’s Day celebrant himself. And I enjoy celebrating my kids being parents. Mother’s Day. Father’s Day. What makes a good parent? Who the f*ck knows? Putting them through four years of college and then grad school? I hope not, because that wasn’t me. Not for lack of wanting, but for lack of funds. Letting them live with you until they could “get on their feet”, somewhere in their mid-thirties. Once again, that wasn’t me. Divorced, living in a two-br apartment, remarried when the two who’d been living with me were 19 and 21. We were okay as dad and two kids, but dad, new wife and two kids wasn’t gonna work. Everyone trying not to get under each other’s feet, trying to get to know each other. Instant family, made up of strangers. That was a pretty big cock-up on my part. So, yeah, no dad points there, either. We try our best to do our best, to be the best father/mother/step-parent we can. And “best” is subjective. You love your kids. With honesty. It’ll always come back to you. Maybe not in the big hallmark ways. But in ways that are specific to you and your kids.
Taking my time reading these. Saving em up so I don’t feel needy when I’m curious about what’s doing with the New ol Bielano Fam. Like Folgers Instand Crystals, when I need something to read, beside that book someone LENT me at least a month back, its right there. In the vault. So Jawn 4, about your dad. Brilliant, if you did do that. If you didn’t it’s a great story anyway l, and a creative, beautiful, heart wrenching, funny, and bordering on maybe a might risky. I’m always considering potential consequences. Will it be worth doing time in a women’s prison. Ruining my chances of running for office or whatever. Like the time I honestly considered lighting the futon my cheating H had contaminated and rolling it down into the forested ravine of Dillon Colorado. I had to restrain myself from opening the back doors of a 12 foot rented van, I was that disgusted. You see I had won that futon in a drawing out in San Diego two years prior, so it had sentimental value which….oh nevermind. TMI. Anyway your Jawn reminded me of a scene in a BillyBob Thornton movie. You could write a scripts Looking forward to the remaining jawns. Thanks.
As usual, these are all beautifully written. Bold and brave and heartbreakingly real. You’ve laid it all out with such raw clarity and nuance and there’s a quiet kind of grace in that. The kind that lets other people exhale because they are allowed the opportunity to see themselves reflected in someone else’s human story. To recognize themselves in someone else’s unwashed truth, not just the neat and tidy highlight reel shit that so many other people put out into the world. I hope this post finds the people who need it most. It deserves to. You’ve done something powerful here. I love you a lot!
Thanks, Arle. I love you.
The good, the bad, the ugly; you always see it and feel it all. This one came full circle back to the good in Jawn 11. I agree with Arle. There’s power in this one.
Thanks so much, Taryn.
Best of all your recent pieces, to me. Probably just too much that I identify with, but anyway. Saving this one to read again.
Thanks a lot, Lauren.
I think Arle said it best - "heartbreakingly real." Great writing, and I so appreciate the raw honesty. These Jawns provide me such a great opportunity to see "themselves reflected" in your completely "human story." I appreciate it.
Coincidentally (thinking back to your Thunder Pie from a couple weeks ago), Bruce's Human Touch came on as I was writing this. These Father Jawns and that totally 1992 sounding opening track have transported me back to think about things through my younger mind. There's something about the way the drums are recorded that just transports me in time to being 21, dum and full of (something), watching music videos with Herb Ritts photographs, faded jeans and black t-shirts.
And speaking of great stepparent characters of modern western culture, I also caught myself thinking about Dwight Yoakam's Doyle Hardgrave character in Sling Blade... "go on git me my guitar from the garage"- you've sent me to an older different place homeslice. I feel like tonight will be a 57 channels and nothing on kinda night. Sorry, you just got my mind wandering.
Much appreciated, Tom
Thanks, Tom. I'm glad my writing helped send you wandering. I dig that a lot.
Hope you're well, sir.
Father’s Day. Just another made up holiday, created to sell greeting cards and bolster hamburger and hot dog sales at the supermarket. But, I’ve alway enjoyed that little extra bit of attention—and let’s face it, it’s literally a minute or so—that I get from my kids. My kids, who are now all adults, yet still enjoy hanging with their old man. Two of my kids who are now parents, themselves; one, my son, a Father’s Day celebrant himself. And I enjoy celebrating my kids being parents. Mother’s Day. Father’s Day. What makes a good parent? Who the f*ck knows? Putting them through four years of college and then grad school? I hope not, because that wasn’t me. Not for lack of wanting, but for lack of funds. Letting them live with you until they could “get on their feet”, somewhere in their mid-thirties. Once again, that wasn’t me. Divorced, living in a two-br apartment, remarried when the two who’d been living with me were 19 and 21. We were okay as dad and two kids, but dad, new wife and two kids wasn’t gonna work. Everyone trying not to get under each other’s feet, trying to get to know each other. Instant family, made up of strangers. That was a pretty big cock-up on my part. So, yeah, no dad points there, either. We try our best to do our best, to be the best father/mother/step-parent we can. And “best” is subjective. You love your kids. With honesty. It’ll always come back to you. Maybe not in the big hallmark ways. But in ways that are specific to you and your kids.
Thanks Tom. I appreciate your words. Hope you had a great Fathers Day, my friend.
Taking my time reading these. Saving em up so I don’t feel needy when I’m curious about what’s doing with the New ol Bielano Fam. Like Folgers Instand Crystals, when I need something to read, beside that book someone LENT me at least a month back, its right there. In the vault. So Jawn 4, about your dad. Brilliant, if you did do that. If you didn’t it’s a great story anyway l, and a creative, beautiful, heart wrenching, funny, and bordering on maybe a might risky. I’m always considering potential consequences. Will it be worth doing time in a women’s prison. Ruining my chances of running for office or whatever. Like the time I honestly considered lighting the futon my cheating H had contaminated and rolling it down into the forested ravine of Dillon Colorado. I had to restrain myself from opening the back doors of a 12 foot rented van, I was that disgusted. You see I had won that futon in a drawing out in San Diego two years prior, so it had sentimental value which….oh nevermind. TMI. Anyway your Jawn reminded me of a scene in a BillyBob Thornton movie. You could write a scripts Looking forward to the remaining jawns. Thanks.