Monday, March 29, 2010

Mentoring Mondays: Who I Am


Post 2 from the amazing Adam Thurston... LOVING this new segment :) And I know the followers are too!! Thanks, Adam, for sharing with my readers and I... even though we're so far away... it will be like we've been there all along... :) p.s. you can find his blog here... follow him :)

Mentoring Mondays
Teaching you to be a lady while you teach me to be a dad.

Who I am.

              Well, as stated previously, I’m your dad.  The only one you’re gonna get.  That is, unless the mailman and your mom come clean.  So I figured it’d be a good idea for you to know a little about me.  My name is Adam but you can call me “dad.”  I’m an Aquarius and I like cars, music, and penning the occasional word to paper.
              What this means to you is that you can count on having a large wealth of music and instruments at your disposal.  You understand, of course, that I’ll have to wait until you’re a bit older before I hand over my guitars but until then, plan on having your old man play and sing for you all the time.  I can’t wait to show you some of my favorite songs.  Even more fun will be when you discover some favorites of your own and show them to me.  In time, I think you’ll find that music (along with writing literature) can be an ultimate form of expression and impression.  It was so powerful it grabbed me and shook me dry when I was eleven and I’ve never since looked back.  I think you’ll see much of the same.  The great thing about music is that there is a tune for every mood you’re feeling.  I could list some of mine but then I wouldn’t be letting you find your own.  Oh, okay!  Twist my arm, why don’t ya?!  Here are some good starters:
              For the sunshines: Beatles (anything ‘63-’67)  Their whole era was (and remains) utterly phenomenal but all of your basic rock and pop moods can be found there.
              For the blues:  Hmm.  So much to choose from.  Let’s start with Otis Redding.  The man could make a statue cry and he didn’t go out by OD’ing, shooting himself, or stabbing himself in the heart.  We have plenty of times to go over the “tortured artist” arena.
              For the “I just want to rock out and go nuts!”  Look no further than The Who.  They’ll cover all the bases for you.  If you’re ever in the mood of “I just want to rock out and go nuts but with a political bent,” then steer your attention to The Clash or Fugazi.  Both are great but you’ll need a pair of Doc Martens to pull off the look.  Come find me and I’ll buy you a pair.
              Cars.  I’m not going to hold my breath but maybe you’ll be the next Danica Patrick and will want to help me drop a K20A into my car.  If not, that’s cool too.  Just know that you’re always invited to my wrenching sessions.  Which brings us to our first Mentoring Moment:  You’re never to not be allowed somewhere because you’re a girl.  There are a few noticeable exceptions to this statement.  I.e. men’s bathrooms/locker rooms, and Klan meetings.  That said, if you want to wrench on the car with me, just say the word.  Wanna throw the ball around?  Just grab my glove.  “But dad!  That’s not girl-stuff,“ you exclaim.  No problem, sweetie.  One of the great things about our western, modern society is that you can be pretty much be whomever you want to be and still be a woman.  Pretty cool eh?!  Now there are some things I’d rather you NOT be.  These include, but are not limited to, Nazi, racist, bigot, white trash, drug addict, stinking drunk, prostitute, stripper or cheer leader (which is really just an underage stripper without the pole).  Alright, your mom just read that and said “Every girl wants to be a cheerleader!”  Just heads-up, kid; your mom is crazy.  Remember it’s just you and me.  The only sane ones in the room. 
              Moving on to reading and writing.  These are two biggies for me, Maddie.  Your Pop is not the smartest tool in the shed but these are so important in so many ways.  When you start reading and what you read will become stepping stools for the rest of your life.  Simply, the earlier you start reading, the smarter you’re going to be.  You’re going to have that much more comprehension towards everything from books to conversations.  Your reading level will be off the chart and your conversational and oratory skills will be unmatched.  And all because we were reading Charlotte’s Web when you were six months old and crapping your pants.  Pretty cool, right?!  All you have to do is lie in my arms and drool and I’ll do the rest.  As you get older, you’ll find that you like the art of stories and reading.  The satisfaction of getting through a story without a television or a movie screen force feeding it down your eyes and throat.  A book is always going to be your ultimate friend.  Besides me, of course.  You can take a book anywhere.  You can read it anywhere.  Except funerals.  For whatever reason, that tends to piss people off.  You can always fall asleep to a book and it’s always right where you left off in the morning.  They’re great ice breakers for conversing with new people.  (and you’ll always seem smart!  Madeline FTW!)  Also, the more you read, the more you know.  The more you know, the better equipped for life you are!  Look at your mother.  She doesn’t read books and up until last year, she thought her car had two gas tanks.  One main tank, and another for when that one was empty. 
              “My car needs gas.  It’s on it’s second tank.”
              “Second tank of what?”
              “It’s on it’s second tank.  My gas gauge is on ‘R’ meaning it’s on the reserve tank.”
              “…Are you serious?”
              “What else would it mean?!”
              “Uh…maybe ‘Refuel.’”
              So, Maddie, that’s your mother.  She’s really sweet and kind and can’t wait to meet you too.  So hurry up and get here, will ya?!  We have so much to show you.

              -I love you, Madeline.
              -Your Dad

1 comment:

  1. aww, this is too sweet. and captivating! you have a way of writing! thoroughly enjoyed that!

    enjoy your little girl!! :)

    ReplyDelete