My dad and Magda left for Spain today. They'll be gone a few months. We'll miss them.

Jenn and the baby on the R.

In the margins of a book I never finished reading I listed a manifesto of sorts, 100 rules to live by. The date was March 18, 1992. I won't bore you with all 100, but many years later the list would pretty much the same although the order would be somewhat different. Here are the top 10 by my 25 year old self.

1. Travel someplace that scares you.

2. Paint your walls even if it's not allowed. White is for sanitariums and prisons.... unless you are one of those people really really into white. Then explore the color white, there are endless shades.

3. Have mysterious projects.

4. Keep a journal. Write some of what you did...ie the facts of your life, but more importantly write how you experienced it.

5. Take more pictures than you think you need to. You're already older than you were a moment ago.

6. Vary your route. The most interesting stuff is around the corner.

7. Keep secrets (but on quiet nights after many years tell the person you love).

8. Don't worry about traffic.

9. Zero your debt.

10. There is more tragedy in the world than you know, but there is also more beauty. Do not ignore tragedy. Accept it, but accept joy with equal intensity.

We have been back in NY almost 6 months now. It feels like much longer (but in a good way). Rain is falling on the snow and everything is mushy. This was the view from the stoop last night:

....
Here is a picture from 6 months and a few days ago when the world was greener.

It's in that little park in the East Village on Houston St.

With my new ukulele my great hope is that I can learn a few songs and be 1/10 as cool as the Duke of Uke. Make sure to listen to his cover of Anarchy in the UK.

Before coming here Magda and my dad went to the park to check out The Gates. They were apparently filmed by NBC and were featured prominently on the NBC Nightly News.

The house is silent. Everyone is hard asleep. In these quiet interludes I slip downstairs noiselessly just to make sure everything is ok.

Often I'll stand still in the dark listening to the breathing and let my mind wander for a moment in large lazy circles. Sometimes I slide over to the crib and make sure our son is tucked in properly. He never is these days, having become adept at breaking free from his swaddle so I do my best to get him covered up again. Then I will retreat back to work until the sleep is overwhelming and my head fuzzy. Then again I venture down this time into a sleepy embrace.

I don't know what I will think about in the long lonely years of old age, and I'm sure that there will be countless cups of bitterness to swallow between now and then, but I imagine that sometimes I will come back to those moments when I am standing in dark listening to the soft breath of my wife and child awash in full sweetness of things.

...

Little by little I'm getting a sense of our boy's musical tastes. Every morning while his mom is still asleep we hang out upstairs and listen to some tunes while we play on the floor. At 10 weeks he registers instant joy or distain for songs... Happily itunes makes switching tracks easy.

He definitely enjoys classic country, smiling through Tex Ritter and Karl Denver. Hank Williams is a fav, although (worryingly) he seems to prefer the really dark songs like Ramblin' Man and Lost Highway to peppier numbers like Jambalya.

He is indifferent to 'difficult' jazz. Mingus in particular seems to annoy him. But Donald Byrd & early John Coletrane put him in a good mood right away.

Almost any 80's rock elicits a frown. Big 70's bands like Led Zeppelin are also a no go.

The kid likes funk. The funkier the better. I throw on Mothership by George Clinton and he lights right up. He smiles through Don Julian's version of Shorty the Pimp and by the time we get to Lynn Collins singing Baby Don't Do It he is practically laughing.

Gingerbread cookies AND a ukulele. My wife knows me all too well. I hope everyone else out there had as nice a day as we had here.

Love it or hate it, The Gates project seemed to put almost everyone in the park in a good mood.

A momentous day in the life of every New Yorker, a first subway ride: