1970 midget
fathers are not superheroes
you were a good dad
you raised me to be proud, strong, curious and kind
because of you i am creative
because of you i am not afraid of the obstacles that land in my path
yet, you are human,
and, though so many of us wish to believe otherwise,
fathers are not superheroes
you have caused enormous pain
but you have turned around
to face the consequence of your choices - as a man
and for that i still admire you
and i still love you
and you will always be my daddy
dashboard confessional
it’s not you, it’s me
listen, twin cities. i know we’ve been together a long time. at first, it was 18 years straight, we broke up for six, and now we’ve been together for the past three years. and mostly, you’ve been great. but for right now, i just need to keep my options open. i hope you understand.
i’ve been struggling for several days now on how to say this, and now it’s long overdue. so i am writing and i’m just going to keep writing until it’s all been said. please don’t interrupt.
i quit my job, it was a good job. i had more responsibility than i probably deserve at this point in my life, but i think i managed ok. but, i quit anyway. i packed up an astonishing amount of junk from my apartment, not getting rid of nearly enough because i’m a sentimental and foolish artist-type and can see redeeming qualities in a used kleenex if you give me a minute. with the help of my most devoted fans (thanks trixie and bub), and some hired college muscle, i moved into a spacious 16-foot moving truck along with my good friend claire.
claire has two cats. i have one. that makes three. three cats, two young and easily distracted female drivers, a 16-foot truck stuffed to the gills with (mostly) useless crap, and, just to make it interesting, a car trailer, dangling behind, carrying my beloved and ancient ford tempo.
don’t worry - we’re fine. i know, it’s hard to believe, but we actually made it all 2400 miles without serious incident. save for a couple of close calls with unaccomodating truckers, we were mostly comfortable; five of us, all in the cab of wanda, the giant yellow truck. we left the st. paul on my birthday, memorial day, the 29th, and arrived just three days and $700 worth of regular unleaded later at our new home in portland.
we took lots of pictures, mostly through the passenger-side window as the windshield was plastered with bug goo and we were on the road for at least 12 hours each day and couldn’t possibly have stopped at each charming prairie or fantastically decrepit barn. still, we got some good shots. click on ‘more photos’ to experience the great american west.
and now, we’re here. and, i have to admit, it feels like home. it’s been three years since i lived here. three mostly good years that also included the most heartbreaking and trying moments of my life. i’m looking forward to some time with the rain, the mountains and the ocean to revive my optimism and boost my spirit.
i love you, minnesota, i really do. but for now, let’s just be friends.