In honor of Father’s Day, I am posting something a little out of the norm today. Last year, my dear husband wrote this adorable ode to being a dad for me. This year, I thought it would be fun to share a little more about him, in his own words. I sent him these questions and then swore I wouldn’t change a single thing he wrote, so here he is, unfiltered. Because I feel the need to give my two cents, my notes are below his, in italics. Hope you enjoy this post: “Get to Know: My Mysterious Husband J!” (His line of work is not compatible with a social media presence, hence the lack of a real name.)
What is something my readers don’t know about you? (Honestly, they don’t know much!)
I am what my wife refers to as a music snob. In essence, I believe that, with few exceptions, no good music was made after 1998. This proved a problem when, during my short stint in the music business, I was forced to sell the Afro Celt Sound System alongside the new Lenny Kravitz album. My pickiness is often the source of ridicule in our house, and since I’m unwilling to suffer through the selections on the radio, I rely on Erin to introduce me to all the new good stuff that’s out there.
You say that you let me introduce you to new music but I would like to point out that you STILL haven’t listened to my last, totally awesome, 8tracks mix (though I’m not sure you will love the pop stylings of bands like Grouplove as much as I do)!
What is something my readers don’t know about me? (Very little, perhaps!)
Your readers are probably unaware of your attraction to dark humor and twisted narratives. I know that your posts often celebrate muffins, cocktail recipes and the perfect summer wardrobe. And, of course, the symphony of 8track mixes. What people may not know is that you stay up late at night reading cryptic and disturbing books and are taken in by tales of loss and woe. You, unlike me, can watch an entire episode of “The Office” or “Curb Your Enthusiasm” without covering your eyes with a pillow when the main character does something completely humiliating or offensive.
I’m not sure it’s a well-kept secret, given that the last few books listed in the “What I’m Reading” section of my blog are about Mexican drug cartels, murderous families and college students turned hit men
What is your first memory of me?
In retrospect, my first memory of you is providing you with a roll of toilet paper to use in my disgusting, unsavory fraternity house bathroom. Of course, I didn’t recall that this person was you until after we started dating. My first official memory of you is of a beautiful blonde girl in a pink knit sweater with a big smile. We were at Madison’s, a bar in Westwood. I was hooked. In the most chivalrous of acts, I helped carry your drunk friend home. This appeared to make little impression, as you didn’t speak to me again until months later, acting as if you were meeting me for the first time.
Ok, let me give my side of the story…first of all, I did remember you giving me toilet paper. I thought you were sweet but maybe a little “height-challenged” for me? No comment on you carrying home my friend who shall not be named (but who reads this blog)! And when we met again, at The Treehouse, and I had a chance to talk to you and get to know you, it was love at third sight.
And it wasn’t a sweater, it was a pink tube top. After all, it was the late 90’s and I doubt I would wear a sweater in June!
What made you fall in love with me?
Did I mention the girl in the pink sweater? Oh, right. Beyond the immediate attraction, we were very compatible. It was clear we shared the same values (e.g., the importance of family, work/life balance, kindness and support for others). And we liked a lot of the same music, the same movies, the same food. Although I have given up raw onion for going on 13 years and I still cannot understand your aversion to avocado and all white creamy things. When it came down to it, you were and continue to be someone I never tire of spending time with. I still crave time for you and I to hang out together. Especially if you wear that pink sweater.
Again, it was a tube top! And I haven’t worn one of those since 2000, when I liked to alternate those with my backless tops. But thank you for your sweet words.
What drives you crazy about me?
This feels like a trap. Is it a trap? Ok, here goes. Not being in the moment. I feel pretty comfortable saying this, as I believe you’ve mentioned it on your blog before. I am a great beneficiary of your tendency to try and stay one step ahead of problems and be the most effective person you can be. This can mean that you remember everyone’s birthday and make sure there are gifts (and you always put my name on the card. Which makes me look good). You bring food to friends who are sick, just had babies, or to contribute to parties and gatherings (again, from you and me). You make sure bills are paid, holidays planned for and keep your eye on our 5 and 10 year plans. In these ways, you are amazing. However, sometimes I feel that you need to stop, look around, and let things go. There is always “something more” you can be doing. But that doesn’t mean it has to be done right now. When you try to be in the moment, and yet feel that you “should” be doing something else, that thing is not getting done and you don’t get to enjoy the moment.
I should probably get my butt “out of the moment” a little more. It would give us better balance.
Sigh. You’re dead on with this one.
What is your cocktail of choice?
A few weeks ago, at The Lion’s Share in Downtown San Diego, I tried my first Monte Carlo: rye whiskey, Benedictine and bitters. It was amazing. Of course, you can never go wrong with a well-made gin and tonic. Especially if it’s warm out.
Had to include this question since I’m running this post instead of my usual Friday cocktail recipe! I should point out, though, that 99% of the time you’ll choose beer over any cocktail out there.
What is your favorite way to spend a day alone?
I’m going to take that to mean a day without my wife and kids. Sleep in, maybe even until 7:30am. Go for a run. Drive to Pannikin in Leucadia. Down several cups of coffee and crusty bread with butter while reading a good book and doing the UT crossword puzzle (actually possible to complete). Walk to Lou’s Records, search for used cds and vinyl records. Drive back home, stop at Santana’s (now MXN) and get a carne asada burrito. Eat on the couch while catching up on my DVR. Early afternoon activity TBD. That evening, meet a couple friends for a beer at Toronado in North Park and some pool at a second location. Go home, drink water, make some more headway on the DVR. Go to bed.
Wake up the next day and go running again.
Beer and Mexican food. Yeah, that sounds about right!
What do you love most about being a dad?
What was that Bob Marley lyric? “Who feels it knows it.” I can still catch myself disbelieving when I say “this is my son,” or “this is my daughter,” or “I’m Gabe and Norah’s dad.” And yet, it feels as though it couldn’t possibly be any different. They are mine, I am theirs. I love that feeling. Especially when I look in their eyes and know they feel the same way. Being their dad is a huge (sometimes inconvenient) responsibility, and yet, it is so clearly my most important reason for living.
I’ve got nothing to add here. You’re the best dad ever (tied with my own dad).
Anything else you’d like to share now that you have the opportunity?
I think that’s enough for today. More self-disclosure than I had planned. I would like to say that I am proud of you and this blog you have created. I love you.
Awww, thanks sweetie. It was fun having you over here! xoxo
*photo credit Lot 116 Photography (definitely not recent pics, hence me without bangs, but oh so cute!)