Frame By Frame

It's becoming our thing, like reading together. Watching Wes Anderson films that is. Our youngest Bryce, who just turned 13, loves the different, the strange, the obscure, the artsy, the smart avant-garde, the visually appealing story unlike the mainstream formulaic. And so do I.

Recently we watched Asteroid City together and loved it. It's not for everyone, including my wife Amy and our oldest Beatrice. But it is for Bryce and I. She doesn't even know all the actors who were in it like I do, and there were many. This is true for most Wes Anderson films. 

I kept telling her throughout the movie, "This is so weird and good." And she wholeheartedly agreed. 

Was it a play about a movie, or a movie about a play? Was it a retro satirical look at the 1950's UFO fears? Was it ultimately about dealing with one's own mortality and grieving about death? Who the heck knows. We really didn't, and while the ratings weren't great for it, you like what you like, and we liked. 

"Every frame of the movie is like a work of art, don't you think?" I said to Bryce. 

"Yes," she agreed again. "I love it!"

In fact, even when we lost the threads of story watching the film, it didn't matter, because it was art for us, every shot a vividly detailed still-life painting storybook. 

Years ago our kids watched Fantastic Mr. Fox, based on Roald Dahl's book of the same name. They both loved it, and Bryce realized now it was another Wes Anderson film.

The other night Bryce and I watched Isle of Dogs, another one she'd watched before and loved. Again, the style of Wes's storytelling, whether animated or live action, is fascinating. Now, we have a list of his movies we're going to watch, some I've already seen and some I haven't, including Bottle Rocket, his first movie. 

That will be the fun part, watching more of these movies with Bryce (although maybe not Rushmore, Mom said). But more than that, us watching both Bryce and Beatrice grow up has been a rich tapestry of moving storybook art, frame by frame, just like a Wes Anderson film. Each of moment of their lives vivid and colorful, still-life pictures over the years rushing by in succession creating movement, sound, and memories -- happy and sad and all in between. These we can watch together over and over and over again. 

I Am Me

"Any life is made up of a single moment, the moment in which a man finds out, once and for all, who he is."

—Jorge Luis Borges

The first time we landscaped our small backyard, I didn't really know who I was. The yard was nothing but rocks, weeds, and ground that was as hard as cement. It was back-breaking work, but my wife Amy and I did it all ourselves, grass, flagstone, and all. We also planted the Japanese maple Amy had given me when we were first dating. The only exception to the backyard work was the installation of sprinklers that a friend of ours helped us with, which was way above our pay grade. That yard lasted as is for years, through the birth of both our children, Beatrice and Bryce. 

The second time we landscaped it, I was learning more about who I was. We replaced the old, dying grass with new sod, and added more flagstone. Some plants were replaced and we created an outdoor enclosure for our rabbit. Although it wasn't as back-breaking as the first time, it was still a lot of hard, sweaty work.

This past year we've been doing a series of home upgrades from floors to rooms, most of which wasn't our handiwork (again, above our pay grade and expertise). We're so grateful to have lived in this house for over 17 years, the house our children were literally born in (well, at least Bryce was -- Beatrice was another story). We've lived fully in every square foot of this house, including our backyard. I can't imagine living anywhere else.

Which leads me to that old saying, the third time's the charm. Back in January of this year, our backyard was a mound of muddy dirt after we had new drainage put in; we were starting from ground zero again. That was the beginning of the latest backyard refresh. One I didn't want to do ourselves this time. Too much back-breaking work, and as I inch toward 60 years of age, my back doesn't want to break anymore. 

But that's not what's happening. No, what's happening is that we are doing it again ourselves, because I wanted to do it again ourselves. Amy and I both did. We're repurposing the flagstone we had installed the first and second times, creating a new path around the back of the house to our main gate, will eventually add gravel and more plants and presto! A life renewed.

From rocky hard ground to mud pit to repurposed path, discovering who I am has definitely been an amazing journey, especially the past 26 years since I've been with Amy and starting a family. As I dig once again in the hard-packed backyard dirt, the slow-burn self-realization where I am today has inspired me. From the face of seemingly unending chaos at times to mindful moments of spiritual alignment, I really do control my own path.

Because the moment has finally come for me to know who I am: I am me. Amen.

A Beautiful Mess In Progress

After graduating 8th grade, our oldest Beatrice stressed about going to high school. Who wouldn't? I remember I did. It's such a big change, just like going from grade school to middle school. Like me her dad, stress keeps her up at night, and sleep is a restless mind-scramble mess.

But then she was a junior leader again at a local day camp in town working with 7-8 year-old kids, something she's loved to do, and the high school stress disappeared for the summer. This is the second year she's done it, and next year she'll be able to be a paid summer counselor, which is what she wants to do.

After summer camp was over, something wonderful happened; the week before the start of high school, she really wasn't that stressed any more. High school orientation came and went and it got her super excited about high school. She'll be 15 soon and there's a new level of teen maturity we hadn't seen until this summer. 

Same with her sister Bryce, who will be 13 soon and starting 7th grade. Both girls are very close and share a lot of the same interests -- but also couldn't be more different from one another. Bryce can be dark and broody, not wanting to talk a lot, rarely smiling, and always listening to her music. Beatrice is usually bright and shiny, always wanting to talk a lot, always smiling, and always drawing in her sketch pads. 

Like summer camp for Bea, the theater and choir are what have matured Bryce. After being in Beauty and the Beast last spring, Bryce is auditioning for The Addams Family musical this fall. And now that she's in her second year of middle school choir, may even want to try out for small solo parts. 

We're so proud of both kids, but my wife Amy and I would never want to put either of them in a box. Meaning, label them by what's seen on the surface, because there's so much more to the essence of them. To any us for that matter. 

A few months ago they watched The Breakfast Club with us, one of our favorite teen angst coming-of-age movies. Ironically, the movie came out the year after I graduated high school and the year Amy started high school, but it still left quite the impact on us both. 

Beyond the cheesy teen antics, it's an intense emotional drama at times. Our girls liked it, too. Out of all the questions they could have asked us, they asked if either of us had been in detention, and I told them I had lunch detention in high school for a week due to too many 1st period tardies. This was when I was student body president, too. Mercy me. They thought that was funny, especially when I told them the other kids in detention said to me, "Dude, your the school president. Wow."

Neither of our kids want to be labeled or put in a box (or be in detention). That's why they liked the note that the "brain" character writes at the end of The Breakfast Club for Mr. Vernon, their detention teacher, who had asked them to write an essay telling him who they think they are. 

Like all of us who have kids, teens in high school and middle school, they are so many things beyond what is seen on the surface. Getting to know who we really are is always a messy work in progress growing up and throughout adulthood. A beautiful mess in progress. We are all the things -- a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, and a princess, and a criminal -- and so much more. 

Sincerely Yours,

The #BhivePower Club

A Novel Idea

Bryce and I arrived at the author reading at Bookshop Santa Cruz a few minutes early, but there were no seats left. We stood in the back and waited. It had been a lovely summer day and now I was excited to bring Bryce to the bookshop. 

Earlier in the week, my wife Amy asked if I wanted to take Bryce to an author reading at the bookshop. I said I did as it would be a fun outing for us. We'll all readers in our house, but our youngest daughter Bryce is our little super reader. She's always reading multiple books at the same time and we've been reading together before bedtime for a few years now. Amy takes her on regular library runs, too. 

Reminds me of me when I was her age. At 13, I read all the time, too. And even though she has devices today to watch shows and listen to music, something we monitor with both girls, reading is still the winner. I remember staying up late in the summertime (and during the school year) reading chapter after chapter of a good book. 

The author reading was about to begin. I did find an open bench with a great view left of the stage area in front, but Bryce didn't want to sit there. I don't think it was because she didn't want to sit with me, she just liked the view from where she was standing. At least, that's what I told myself. These teens today. 

The author reading was with Karen M. McManus who wrote the One of Us Is Lying series. This reading launched the newest book in the series called One of Us Is Back. She writes young adult mystery thrillers, a genre Bryce really enjoys. Reminds me of my Stephen King obsession back in the day. 

I bought a copy of the new book for Bryce to get signed after the reading was over. During the public question-and-answer session at the end of the author interview and reading, I texted Bryce to ask a question. She said she didn't have one, but I did.

"What is it about good thrillers and mysteries that engage you the most?" I asked the author. 

"Good character development with all the suspenseful mini-mysteries interconnected throughout that drive the over-arching mystery," Karen M. McManus said. "That's what engages me."

"Thank you." Good answer, I thought. 

Afterwards Bryce and I waited in line to meet Karen to have her sign Bryce's book. 

"Did you like this?" I asked.

"Yes," Bryce said. "I did really enjoy it. I just didn't have a question for her."

"You heard mine, right?"

"Yes, it was good."

I smiled. "This is inspiring me to write my novel."

"You want to write a book?"

"Yes. I've written a couple of business books, but I really want to write a novel now."

"What about? Will it be young adult?"

"It won't be young adult or be a mystery thriller, although someone will die in my story. It'll be a small town family drama," I said.

Bryce frowned. "You're not going to write about me, are you? Don't write about me." 

"It won't be about you. It will be fiction with made up characters."

"Good. You should write it. I would read it."

That meant a lot coming from a reader like Bryce.

I laughed. "Maybe there will be a character like you who I name Bruce instead of Bryce."

"Dad!"

I loved watching Bryce as she talked with the author Karen M. McManus and told her how much she enjoyed her books. Karen signed Bryce's book and told her she loved her hat. When I was her age, I never got to meet authors whose books I loved. I'm so glad I took her this author reading and will do it again and again. And for Bryce to tell me she'd read the novel I've always wanted to write made the moment even sweeter.

This wonderful bonding experience with my daughter was more than just us having a good time together. It again sparked the idea of doing something new and different that I never thought I'd ever do in life. Like have children. Or travel the world. Or try different careers. Or write a business book. Or play the drums. 

Or, write the great American novel. As parents, we're supposed to be the ones who encourage our kids to dream the big dreams, but they can do the same for us. What a novel idea.