Can't stop the bop

J has gotten slapped by the kinder germs this week and has a cold/sinus thing going on right now.  That means she’s worn out and not feeling well.  That takes a little extra effort on my part as I try to pick up some of the work and slack from her so she can rest, feel better, and chill.  

Last night, after dinner, I was heading to 7Eleven to get myself a beer or two and get J a yogurt for the morning.  She asked me to get her a treat.  No problems.  Well, they were out of her treats and so that was a no go.  She was bummed, but life moves on.

Around 20:15 (8:15pm) we had gotten Kiddo into bed and J was searching around for a treat to treat on.  I saw this and started getting ready to go out and pulled my shoes on.  J saw this and knew I was going to go to the other 7Eleven to check for treats.  She got all girly weepy that I loved her so much that I would go and get her a treat.

Of course I’ll go get you a treat.  It’s a 5 min walk.  No worries.

In reality, she would spend 10 minutes checking the house for treats.  Going back and forth on things.  Finally settling, but it not being quite right.  She would then get not just girly weepy, but actually weepy and then need a hug and some love to make it all better and all of that would take 20 minutes, whereas I could walk there and back and get the treat that is wanted in half the time.  

It’s like we’ve been together for 20 years or something!  LOL

The good news is that I wanted a treat too.  I could see what they had for chips.  Well howdy did they have a treat for me.

Yeah!  They made it actually taste like Khao Soi Chicken.  I have no idea how, but they tasted like the chip version of the actual dish.  Salt, spice, lime, chicken, a hint of fish sauce, a touch of umami, a dollop of Thailand.  It was amazing.  With a Singha in a glass with good ice and it was like sitting at a market, only more AC and our TV shows.

I did notice walking there that I had a pop in my step.  A hop.  A bop even.  Sure, I had in earbuds and was rocking my music, but I had a bop again.  It was actually a bit shocking getting to 7 and seeing my reflection in the glass.  Where is the 25 year old A?  Who is this old guy?

There are other days here that I’ve noticed the same thing.  Dropping Kiddo off the other day at school and coming home I had the same reaction in the mirror in the lift at the building.  I expected the person who bumped around The Bay Area of CA in my 20s.

I’ve been thinking about that recently and after J went to bed last night.  My conclusion is that I’m alive.  Not that I wasn’t before, but it had been so long.  At about 35, life caught up with me for a minute or 10.  I didn’t bop any more.  I had moments of pop, bop, and hop, but mostly it was grinding the path.  I was burnt out, unhappy, and falling more and more into grayness, blandness, and middle age.  

I’m not going to be cool, nor do I want to be cool, again.  That has past me and I don’t want to be cool.  I don’t want to be hip or with it.  I want to be me, but the me with a bop, hop, and pop in my step.  I want to be in full color.  I want to be, as I always used to think of it when I was in my 20s and I’d see 40/50something people with bop, old man cool.  

I want to be the old guy who doesn’t speak and know the lingo and vibe of the young crowd, but who is looked at by the young crowd as one of their own.  Maybe a few gens behind, but one of their own.  Respected because 20 years ago I was them and now I’m not trying to be like them, but I’m still one of them.  That I tattoo, pierce myself, advocate for tats and piercings, advocate for free college, no student debt, that we should be working FOR the 20somethings and not against them. 

In other words, I punch up with them, not punch down on them.  I think that the 20somethings of the world should be the most powerful people on the planet and I think we should help them get there.  We should educate them.  We should foster them.  They are our next leaders… or should be, not the 70something geriatric crowd we have running things now.  Bernie, Bidden, McTurtle, et al should be the outliers and not the norm.  AOC , Petey B, Beto, and those types should be the norm.

Even in how we raise Kiddo.  We don’t censor her life.  She listens to RHCP and it’s her favorite band.  It’s not exactly PG and Kid friendly at times, either in lyrics or themes.  I mean, she can sing you the whole of Under the Bridge or Snow (Hey Oh) and those songs are both about drug addiction.  Not that we sit and explain it in explicit detail to her.  She digs the band.  She digs the sound.  We will explain and make it age appropriate for her, but she’s not going to have her whole world censored.  Not that we are freewheeling, don’t care people.  We’re not going to sit her down and watch Se7en with her anytime soon, but God of War is about the struggle of a father and child, about past effecting present, about being who you are, not who you are told to be.  She got enough of those themes to know the basic of that story and struggle.  She was sad, at the end, when one of the main NPC (Non-Playable Characters) scarified himself for the whole.  She GOT that.

That’s the bop.  The pop.  And the hop.  That I don’t fall back on the “Well, I was raised that way and it was good enough for me so it’s good enough for you.”  By that logic, I should toss my PS5 and go back to Nintendo 8bit.  No!  Things advance.  We need to advance with it.

Had we stayed in CA, I would probably be somewhat the same… I am ME after all.  But it would be a grayer me.  Less forward thinking.  Less hoppy, poppy, and boppy!  I would be an imposter.  I’d be trying to fit, instead of being the outlier who happens to fit.  Again, part of my insane and very eclectic sense of self and world that I have.  Part of my personal philosophy on life and child raising.  And in 15 years, I hope to have the same bop.  I want to be not, old guy cool, but grandpa cool.  A long way from current gen, but the old dude who is 55+ and still bopping, popping, hopping, and rocking right along with it.  The music and style might be different, but the attitude is the same.  I punch up still.

All this because J didn’t feel well and I saw chips I wanted.  

Let’s go, Kiddo… Mumma and Dada might not be the coolest, the hippest, the best and yes, we make rules and set boundaries that you don’t like, but in the grand scheme of things, I think you’ll find we are cooler and more with it that you realized in those moments.  We hope that your spirit helps keep us hopping, bopping, and popping right along with you as you grow and we adventure.  Let’s crank up the playlist, listen to some tunes, play some games, and have some laughs.  I’ll never be Frank Sinatra, Mumma will never be Julia Roberts, we will never be that cool or hip, but we can be right next door to that - not cringy, just fringy.