I am a super hero.
Last night with the midnight oil burning, I was tapping away at some work while listening to mp3’s. Something caught my attention. I pulled my headphones off to hear my son screamed at the top of his lungs.
“DAAAAAADDDEEEEE!”
I run to my sons room just across the hall to see those two-year old eyes filled with tears and his shoulders hopping with sobs. Bad dream, scary noise, who knows.
“Want to sit with me in the rocking chair?” I ask.
“Un huh,” he says through sobs. So I gather him up with his blanket and plop down in the rocking chair in the corner. He rests his head against my chest as he goes back to sleepy-land.
Times like that, my mind wanders like crazy. That’s usually where I get my ideas for columns - while in the shower, standing in line somewhere, or rocking my son to sleep.
Last night though, I my thoughts were filled with the shitty day I had completed. Work was stressful and to political. That’s why I have a hard time feeling any sympathy for things like the baseball strike. The minimum salary is somewhere around $4 billion now, and yet the players nearly went on strike. Must be rough. I’m having trouble feeling your pain, chumps.
Yesterday while watching CNN, they had actually stopped talking about Iraq long enough to talk about Bill Gates. The Forbes Richest Assholes List for 2002 is out. They spent 15 minutes talking about Bill Gates, with an industry expert, and his fortune that was at $65 billion four years ago, but is now only $41 billion. Gee, how will he make ends meet?
Then, of course, there’s Iraq. We’re gonna attack him, we’re not gonna attack him; he’s got nukes, he doesn’t have nukes… The people who run this country just don’t seem to know. Yet I’m somehow suppose to care because it’s on the news each night. Somehow, I just don’t believe that he wants to nuke the US like the Whitehouse wants me to believe. Though, I should be concerned. Two of my cousins and a guy that was in my wedding are in the military. But it’s so easy to get into the train of thought that it’s some country really far away and it doesn’t effect me here in Ohio.
Now, for the fifth time, Saddam says he will let observers in. So maybe all this war talk was grandstanding? Hard to say.
It’s just hard for me to care about any of it. I am underpaid for the industry I work in, yet the baseball players want more money and somehow Bill Gates is poor. Politics are getting thick at work, but there is no international coalition that gives a shit.
But none of that matters. Because last night, somewhere near 2am, my son called for me. He was scared about something and he wanted me. He wanted to sit in the rocking chair with me. I whispered in his ear that everything was going to be OK… and he drifted off to sleep.
None of that other stuff matters. Because last night, for almost five whole minutes, I was a super hero.