At Chookooloonks, via Kristin’s.

Me and my grandpa, 1975.

He is turning 82 this year, the same year I turned 32.

I love him more than I know how to explain, and though he is getting older and sicker and further down a difficult road, I still see an incredible light and strength in his eyes.

Sometimes it’s the worst thing in the world to watch him age and falter, since he’s used to being the toughest guy in the room. Especially since I know he’s taking it hard.

He doesn’t quite get how I manage to make a living by writing, because he spent 43 years and more working with his hands to support his family. And even when that was done, he still had his workshop and his garden and his car to wash.

Now his hands are weaker, even as mine grow stronger and I get a greater grip on who I am and what I want. And I don’t spend nearly as much time with him as I should.

Still, when he takes my hand as I kiss him on the cheek, leaving after dinner, or after popping by to watch the hockey game, I can remember being the little girl in his arms.

He will always be the toughest guy in any room.

That’s why he’s still fighting.

Love you, Poppa.

what flavor pocky are you?
[c] sugardew

you phil up my senses.

Have you ever come across someone with whom you felt an amazing amount of connection, if only for a second? I had a kindred moment today… and in the detergent aisle, of all places.

I was looking for my usual bottle of the critically acclaimed Liquid Ultra Tide with Downy, and noticed as I was scanning the shelves that the song playing over the PA was Phil Collins’ and Phillip Baker’s Easy Lover.

Now, hold up.

I am not a Phil Collins fan. I believe the man is probably a great drummer (when he was with Genesis…but Peter Gabriel is butter…) and a passable vocalist, but the whole Miami Vice to Depressing Ballad to Disney Soundtrack continuum really messes with my head.

I suppose you could call it versatility, but I just can’t get a lock on what the heck he’s trying to accomplish.

(That, and the fact that Billy, Don’t You Lose My Number and Two Hearts annoy the living hell out of me.)

But there I was, searching for the sweet elixir that makes my laundry smell mmm mmm good, and suddenly I was bobbing my head to the beat of the tune. Like all songs I’ve heard more than twice, I’ve got the lyrics down, too, so I began to sing along very quietly as well. I mean — I couldn’t help it. It just happened. And maybe it wasn’t that quiet.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a gangly guy in glasses doing the same thing, way down the aisle.

He caught me looking, realized that I was breaking it down to Phil too, and blushed furiously. I felt that this was about to become an awkward moment, so I decided to take it one. step. further.

I grabbed a bottle of Shout Stain Stick off the shelf, and fully lip-synced this part of the song, using the stick for a pseudo- (Sussudio?) microphone:

No don’t try to change her, just leave it, leave it
You’re not the only one, ooh seeing is believing
It’s the only way
You’ll ever know, oh

She’s an easy lover (she’s a easy lover)
She’ll get a hold on you believe it (get a hold on you)
(she’s) like no other
Before you know it you’ll be on your knees (you’ll be down on your knees)

He grinned a mile wide, and did an oft-coveted move on wedding dance floors: the Sprinkler.

I responded with my patented Solid Gold shimmy.

By this time, we were both audibly singing it, and fortunately, there was no one else around. But then — it happened.

We BOTH did the drum run that leads into one of the final chorus ad-libs. I mean, literally — this person that I don’t know air-drummed at exactly the same moment I did.

I squealed in delight. He beamed.

We went our separate ways, and it was over. But what a moment.

But for now, we’ll go on living separate lives
Yes for now, we’ll go on living separate lives
Separate lives…