December 10, 2007

She's here about the reaping.


Two Jaspers and a pug
Originally uploaded by Citizen Rob.
Well, okay, enough of the PajamasMedia idiocy. I'll just have to be more discriminating when choosing what part of the Internet lawn to step in next time. I feel like I just ruined a good pair of shoes.

Besides, as someone pointed out to me, the opponents of inclusion lost their war. The Individuals with Disabilities Education Act is the law of the land and it protects the rights of about six and a half million kids from the assmonkeys who would ghettoize them. (Although I do not believe that assmonkeys are explicitly named in the legislation. So, you know, watch out for loopholes.)

So two little things tonight instead.

First of all, if you go to my book's Amazon page, you'll see that the cover is finally showing up. (While you're there, why not buy a few copies for all your friends? You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll kiss fifteen dollars and sixty one cents goodbye... Okay, I'll stop.) One more step towards the big day, which is now only seventy days away. I have no idea why that little "tent" is still there, however.

The other small item tonight is sort of weird, but like most things that Schuyler conjures up out of the Martian atmosphere, I just ran with it. For the past few weeks, Schuyler has been asking about death. She originally brought it up in a question about my father (whom she now believes resides in every cemetery we drive past), but after I answered her questions honestly, she's become fascinated by the topic in general.

Tonight, while we were playing, she told me that I was dead. (She even made up a sign for it; her hand touches her forehead, similar to the ASL sign for sick, but then it flies off like, well, your soul, I guess.) She instructed me to lie motionless on my bed while she concocted a ceremony of her very own, singing a jaunty little tune to herself as she went back and forth from her room to fetch supplies and mourners.

If you should attend my funeral in the hopefully distant future, here's what you might expect from Schuyler. First, she ritualistically waved various pieces of plastic jewelry over my head. (The gesture seemed oddly Catholic to me, heathen that I am.) She then took a play fork and offered me invisible food. But if I tried to eat it, she gave me a stern "No!"

"Daddy, you're dead," she reminded me.

After I explained to her that at a funeral, someone gives a speech to say goodbye to the person and tell why they'll be missed, she wisely selected Jasper, the elder statesman of her toy animals, to put my life in perspective. He chose to deliver my eulogy in Martian, of course.

I know this all sounds wildly creepy, and I must admit, it wasn't my first choice of a game to play, especially not two weeks after my fortieth birthday. But I'm proud of her for asking about such a rough concept, and for continuing to turn it over in her head as she tries to make sense of it. Like so many other things in her life, she doesn't find it sad, only puzzling.

At the end of our game, Schuyler decided she wanted to be dead, too. I'm not sure real corpses giggle that much, though.

17 comments:

Anonymous said...

It's obvious: She's a goth.

Omar said...

Good song for the next ceremony: "Pretend We're Dead."

Iselyahna said...

Schuyler seems to be accepting something the rest of us are still terrified of.

Man, is she amazing.

Linda Ball said...

Creepy play time, but your kid sure shows lots of deep thinking.

And I'm trying to figure out why, when I went to your Amazon page, it wanted me to buy your book with "Crazy Aunt Purl's Drunk, Divorced, and Covered in Cat Hair: The True-Life Misadventures of a 30-Something Who Learned to Knit After He Split" by Laurie Perry. Um, OK.

Robert Hudson said...

And I'm trying to figure out why, when I went to your Amazon page, it wanted me to buy your book with "Crazy Aunt Purl's Drunk, Divorced, and Covered in Cat Hair: The True-Life Misadventures of a 30-Something Who Learned to Knit After He Split" by Laurie Perry. Um, OK.

I have no idea why it chose that. I assume that once the book comes out and they start having meaningful sales numbers, they'll pair it with something more logical.

Although when it was first listed, my book was paired with Amy Winehouse. THAT was random.

Anonymous said...

Two Jaspers and a pug -- love it.

I used to fear all the diseases on Medical Center (you're probably too young to remember that), so I cannot relate to a child who is that comfortable with death -- but good for her and her imagination!

Niksmom said...

Wow, she is an amazing and deep thinker. And hey, who are you (or any of us) to say that the dead don't giggle as much. Just 'cause we can't hear them...

ROFLMAO at Linda Ball's Amazon pairing. I might just have to check out the OTHER title for giggles.

Bev Sykes said...

Linda beat me to the question about why "Crazy Aunt Purl's Drunk, Divorced, and Covered in Cat Hair: The True-Life Misadventures of a 30-Something Who Learned to Knit After He Split" is a good pair with your book!

Ann said...

Rob, am I guessing correctly that if we buy the book through your Amazon link you'll get a tiny bit extra? If so, and you're really not coming to Chicago, I'm happy to buy it that way.

Robert Hudson said...

Yeah, I believe I do (if I set it up right). And no, at this point, I have no plans for Chicago, although anything can happen. But you do whatever is easiest for you. I'm just thrilled that you're buying it!

Anonymous said...

Schuyler rocks. That is all. :)

Anonymous said...

I'm pretty sure the book pairing is because you're both bloggers-turned-nonfiction-authors. Pretty funny, though.

Also, when I was Schuyler's age, I was really into ghosts and Ouija boards and seances. I think it's pretty normal.

Anonymous said...

Rob,

The ticker counting down to the book release is getting down there! I'm just curious -- what actually does an author do on the day the book is released? Is there a ceremony or do you do anything with the publisher and agent? Or, do you quietly celebrate at home with Julie and Schuyler? If this question is premature, and you're planning to keep this a surprise for later, I apologize -- and in that case, never mind.

Robert Hudson said...

I think the usual plan (at least for authors who don't live in New York near their agent or publisher) is to get up early, start obsessing over their Amazon.com ranking, go to their local Barnes & Noble as soon s it opens and glare at the employees menacingly until their book gets put on the shelf, and then pretend to look at it when customers come by. "Say, this new book looks GOOD!!!"

As for me, I believe I will be flying to New York that day, for a book release event the next night (details of which I will definitely share when they become solid). I can't say for sure, but I suspect at some point that day, I'll find myself at a Manhattan bookstore, staring menacingly at the employees until they put my book out, and then harassing customers as they walk by. "Holy shit, this book is AWESOME! I think I'll buy two copies!!!"

And then I'll probably find a bar.

Anonymous said...

From my own experience with kids & cognitive development etc, it's very much "typical" for kids to go through such a phase, figuring out the big stuff about death & identity. It's very healthy - you can't prevent young people from considering concepts they are DEFINITELY going to have to deal with some time.

When I was about Schuyler's age I was obsessed with writing out my Last Will & Testament. I wrote it out over & over, exploring legalese, calligraphy styles, whether my brothers were deserving of my toys or not [Not.] I think my parents were a bit taken aback but hey it balanced out the bunnies & unicorns.

Anonymous said...

I agree that pairing your book with Laurie Perry's is definitely "odd" but her book is very good. The title may be a bit misleading unless you're familiar with her blog. I don't mean to use your site to plug someone else's book and I am NOT Laurie Perry. I simply was surprised to see her mentioned here.

As for your book, I think you'll hit the ground running.

Joey said...

Yeah, my 8-year-old son is going through a similar phase. Morbid, but somewhat cute at the same time.