Touching My Foolish Heart

One of my crazy before-I-was-a-parent goals was to introduce Peanut to real music, early and often. I couldn't fathom her being one of these kids who doesn't know The Beatles or Motown, Springsteen or Sinatra. This is one of those goals I actually followed through on, and this story is proof that my musical education method worked.

Frank Sinatra is especially significant since he was my dad's favorite. He remains one of my favorites. And now, through serendipity and osmosis, one of his songs is one of Peanut's favorites. I began to love Sinatra in high school, believe it or not. Some of my friends did as well. It was one of those things none of us admitted to each other until we all realized we had this one thing in common one day. Soon thereafter, My Way would play late-night as parties were winding down. We'd put Luck Be a Lady on as we drove down to sneak into the casinos in Atlantic City. Here's to the Losers was a song we'd play just because we thought it was funny.

Then there's The Way You Look Tonight. What made this song cool for a teenager in the early 90's was its use in a Michelob commercial around that time. This song, though, doesn't need any advertising. It's cool no matter what because it is the perfect love song.

Some day when I'm awfully low.
When the world is cold.
I will feel a glow just thinking of you.
And the way you look tonight.

Baby Peanut certainly touched
my foolish heart.

The love song became a lullaby once Peanut arrived. Those words would be the last words I would sing to her after late-night feedings. My Director would wake up to feed her while I slept. I would sing her back to sleep as My Director went back to bed. These were my nights, my moments. Our nights. Our moments. I will never forget the way she looked those nights. Magical and memorable.

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Pretty in Pink

"Yes, a purse. I carry a purse!" -Jerry Seinfeld

A smattering of pink and yellow

I'm looking in my closet, and I see a smattering of pink and yellow... and it's not coming from my wife's side of the closet. Shirts, ties, shorts (it's spring)... what does it mean?

It means I'm a trendy guy. Some may even say a trendsetter. More on that in a moment.

The "outrageous" JCrew ad

A debate is raging on the internet and the cable networks over a boy with his toenails painted pink. Oh, the horror. J.Crew used the image of a mother painting her son's toenails in an ad. Some people were offended and concerned that we're blurring the lines of gender identification in this country. "This is an attack on traditional family values," they said.

Give me a break.

Straight guy, yellow pants, pink tie

Take it from a straight married guy who, if you need to label, is a "metrosexual" who can't wait until Memorial Day so he can break out his pairs of orange and yellow pants: Sexual orientation is color blind. You can dip me in pink and it doesn't mean I'm gay... not that there is anything wrong with that. And so what if a kid - or adult for that matter - is gay?

What is wrong with people?

I admit it... I watch "Grey's"

Yeah... I wear pink. And pastels. I also enjoy manicures and pedicures, get my hair cut at a salon, and watch Grey's Anatomy (with my wife). I also cook, am bad at fixing things and have no problems sharing my feelings... in this blog. Should my parents be concerned?

Maybe it's their fault. I remember my mother being emphatic about dressing me nicely for school. Button-down shirts tucked into dungarees. Always a belt. Never jeans or sneakers. Did she make me this way? Did she make me love clothes? What the hell did she do to me?

Gastineau: definitely not gay

One day when I was in second grade she let me dress myself. It was a Friday. I wore a Mark Gastineau jersey untucked, jeans and sneakers. She was mortified, but allowed it. That is me... on the weekends. During the week, I'm all about finding the right shirt-tie-pants combo and matching my socks to my tie, my belt to my shoes.

I dress well and look good. Thank you, mom.

I also distinctly remember carrying what could only be described as a handbag when I was a little boy. You read that right. A handbag. You know what I carried in it? Baseball cards. I needed something to carry baseball cards in... and that's what I found. Like I said... trendsetter. I was the first guy to carry a man purse. It was 1981 and I was 6. But I also remember it not being so manly.

Shortly thereafter, I recall my parents getting me a football-shaped bag for me to carry my stuff around.

Loved Mr. Do

Were they worried I was gay? Or were they pretty sure I wasn't, but didn't want anyone else to think I was? Who knows? Who cares. It was a different time. And if a little boy wants to look fabulous carrying his man purse full of baseball cards while he rides his bicycle to the deli to play Mr. Do, then dammit... let him. He'll figure things out eventually.

Now, I'm pretty sure my parents would have never painted my toenails pink... and I think that's ok too. I also don't think I would endorse my wife painting our son's toenails any color... if we had a son... unless he asked. I would still be hesitant... but on second thought... why the hell not?

After all, my daughter's favorite color is blue... but I'm pretty sure that does not make her a lesbian.

Frank Sinatra sings a line in Soliloquy that is poignant yet may apply here in a troubling way:

"You can have fun with a son, but you've got to be a father to a girl."

Maybe I'm reading too much into that lyric, but I do notice a trend among some parents of boys. It may be inadvertant, but they treat their children differently based on gender. Girls need to be handled delicately. Boys we need to toughen up. I frequently hear baby boys and toddler boys being affectionately referred to as "my little man." How about we let boys be boys?

She swings a mean bat... while wearing a tutu

You never hear "my little woman." The peanut is my little girl. She loves princess dress-up, Calico critters, dancing, and pushing her babies in her toy stroller. All her choices. We've also given her soccer balls, footballs, basketballs, baseballs, and golf clubs. She likes to play with all of them too... during the appropriate seasons.

It shouldn't be our job to dictate who our kids are and who they will become. It's our job as parents to recognize the path they are leaning towards, and help them navigate it.

They're looking for us to help them figure it out... no matter what color their toenails are painted.

I mentioned above that I'm bad at fixing things. Well, that's not entirely true, as I wrote here.

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