Oscars 2022 (and a Guest Post)

I felt ambivalent, at best, about most of the Academy's choices this year, but I'm happy that Ariana DeBose won an Oscar.

The win made me think of the grand tradition of the supporting actress in musical films: winner Jennifer Hudson ("Dreamgirls"), winner Catherine Zeta-Jones ("Chicago"), winner Rita Moreno, winner Anne Hathaway, nominee Meryl Streep ("Into the Woods"), nominee Penelope Cruz ("Nine"), nominee Queen Latifah, nominee Peggy Wood ("The Sound of Music").

As a hat-tip to the Oscars, Marc and I watched "Dreamgirls" Saturday. What a treat to see Hudson and nominee Eddie Murphy. I also enjoy Anika Noni Rose and Jamie Foxx, at least in Act One; the story runs out of gas after Effie White's meltdown, and this means you have a full hour to sit through after "the peak."

I'd very much like to see more movie-musicals in the next few years; specifically, I'd nominate "Kiss of the Spider-Woman," a new version of "Night Music," and maybe "Spring Awakening." It's fun to dream.....

Now: for a guest post! If you have been following my little son, Joshua, you should take a look at Marc's guest story below. Marc was moved to write about Josh after a week on the beach; I liked seeing hints of Josh's emerging personality in the story, and I think you will, too. I also had a fun time seeing Josh, in nature, for many uninterrupted hours, with his Kansas City Dad.

Our little boy Joshua has been looking up pretty much his whole life. When he was just a few months old, he was captivated with the ceiling fan at his grandparents’ home. We don’t have any in our home, but whenever we enter a home with a ceiling fan, he is enthralled. Even at the Turtle Back Zoo near our home, when we go into the big old barn to look at the farm animals, Josh’s gaze is to the roof, where there are several dilapidated fans hanging from the ceiling. Josh’s complete attention is upward to the skies.

We’re just back from our vacation at the beach in Fort Lauderdale, and our rental house had ceiling fans in every room. Unfortunately the fan in our room didn’t work, so every time Josh came into our room, he’d insist that I push one of the ceiling fan blades to make it spin, and once I did, he’d get a great big grin on his face. And so would I. So I’d get up and push it again and again.

Josh has also become obsessed with airplanes. Our home in New Jersey is close enough to Newark Airport that we get planes flying over frequently. Until Josh started looking up, I barely noticed them. But Josh grunts and points to the sky whenever he sees one – and when he hears one, he stops what he’s doing, gazes to the sky to find it, and then points once he spots it with a big smile on his face.

On the beach in Fort Lauderdale, there were airplanes overhead everywhere. Small ones pulling advertisement signs, larger ones carrying vacationers in and out of the several south Florida commercial airports. Josh seems to be looking at the ocean, but he also gazes up and with pride says, “I do” when he spots a plane. He’s most excited not about the very noticeable ones, but about ones that are tiny, way up high in the sky – planes that I’d never notice if it weren’t for Joshie.

I love Josh’s enthusiasm about the sky, about flying devices, about airplanes. On a few occasions, I’ve taken him to Morristown Airport, an airport for private planes not far from where we live. He seems to enjoy looking at the planes, watching some take off and land. I sure enjoy showing them to him.

I look forward to taking Josh to airshows, to the Air and Space Museum, into a cockpit – that is if the interest sticks around. I love his wonder, and the gift of getting to rediscover the magic of airplanes.

One more thing: the last night of vacation, Josh came over and laid down on top of me, gave me a giant grin. And he said, “I love you, Daddy” for the first time. My heart melted.

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

Joshie

When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...

Josh at Five

Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...

Liars and Saints

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