|You will believe a Pilgrim hat can fly. Or at least zoom past and mess everything up.|
|You missed a spot.|
Small Beings in the House
are not exactly expressions of A Man Called Da-da
any more than a hand is a handful.
They spring into every day, nearly unconscious
wholly perfect and free and quasi-undisciplined
and of course loud as hell.
Perfect spirit, they appear to take on a physical body
if that body can keep up
and bounce that somatic rubber ball off the walls and cats and furniture
letting circumstance be their insane riding chicken.
That's why every being in the house
spontaneously ignores A Man Called Da-da:
they can't hear him over Ma-ma's screaming.
Sure, A Man Called Da-da gives birth to all house-made beings...
in a feckless Y-chromosome kinda way;
he nourishes them, maintains them
hoses them down, puts out their fires
totes around the unwieldy Pillar of Common Sense
and looks the other way when they knock it over;
he takes them back to himself as often as he can
creating without creativity
acting without acting experience
guiding without a goddamn clue.
That's why love of A Man Called Da-da
is an impossible thing not to do:
everyone loves the underdog.
[Excerpted from Da-da's latest book of SAHD-ness, The Tao of Da-da (or "Strong Winds CAN Blow All Day, Depending on How Much Sugar's Been Ingested"). Void where prohibited.]
|That's right, kid: Da-da's all heart.|
|Da-da contemplates a Halloween future -- way far off -- where everything on THE LIST has been completed.|
Behold a little Halloween snippet from The Tao of Da-da, which is both radiant and horrifying. Enjoy.
A Man Called Da-da keeps his mind -- what’s left of it --always at one with the to-do list,
or THE LIST as it's known in the trenches,
the completion of which is what gives Ma-ma radiance.
Ma-ma is all about radiance.
A Man Called Da-da sees
tacked on the Refrigerator of Destiny.
How can he not see it? It's BIG.
And how the hell can he ever be at one with it??
He can't, of course.
He can only cope with its omnipresent enormity
by not clinging to ideas.
This is easy for Da-da.He doesn’t have any ideas.
A Man Called Da-da is dark and unfathomable
because all his neurons have been burntby the Ten Thousand Small Noisy Things.
But how, O HOW, can he make Ma-ma radiant?
He can do everything on THE LIST.
Since before time and space,
Da-da has had THE LIST.
It is beyond do and do not.
How does he know this is true?
He looks inside and sees Ma-ma telling him so.
[Excerpted from, The Tao of Da-da (or "Strong Winds CAN Blow All Day, Depending on How Much Sugar Has Been Ingested") Soon to win a few awards! (Buy before they raise the price.)]