The Best Day
Aug. 19th, 2012 05:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kingtycoonI'm all invention, halfearted in the social execution, sincere in preparation and the fulfillment of commitments.
I think that this is what kind of sms up the best day for me, this second time through: I invited a lot of people over for brunch, and I realized that I don't have enough chairs. So I went down the street to the one furniture store, which is in walking distance from us, I bought a futon there, not the cheapest but a cheaper one. I bought a futon because it comes in two pieces so I could carry it home one piece at a time. And that's what I did. It looks kind of nice and comfortable, I bought it, brought it home in pieces, one by one, four blocks journey. Then I walked a long ways off and bought a waffle iron, then I went to the grocery to buy groceries, and then I came home, built the futon, made the dough, waited for it to rise, cleaned and cleaned, fixed myself a drink, played the pokemon tcg, won, felt bad about winning, rolled out the dough, cleaned, went to bed.
Woke up early on the best day to chop up melons, fruits, prepare, cook, make and make the food, coffee, people come over. I'm coasting through it, just happy they're happy, or seem to be. And all day long it's a long sweet feeling of peace, prevailing that comes from a work executed. This thing is kind of like wating to see what someone will say about something you've written. You watch and wait and watch and worry. It's not a desperate need for approval or attention you want, just an aknowledgement that what you've done has been seen, that someone knows that you exist and the little, hard thing that you've done, as best you can, that it has be not for nothing.
Writing is better, you can do it for yourself, find an old notebook, read what you've written and be surprised by ideas you'd forgotten you had, be charmed by your invention and smile at your own turns of phrase, thing you'd not remembered writing, or even thinking. A thing you could've done on your own, for yourself.
The Best Day is different, it's a whole experience you plan for others. Back in March I made the March party for all our birthdays - that was a pure delight, a success. Easy though, family - we're oblidged to love one another - today? Well, I don't know. I want...
Sometimes I think this, I think about my father and my mythology of him, what he was and meant to me in life, then I think about my daughter and I think - The Old Man was one of the greats, a giant in the world. True Fact - grown men looked at him admiringly, they called him "The Great One" without irony or blinking. Their kids called him that, like it was his name.
So yesterday I carried a sofa on my shoulders, baked cinnamon rolls from scratch and taped up old liquor boxes to make gunner nests for our nerf-gun war. Because, to me, a toy or an item or a present or some other nonsense, they're nonsense, but winning style, a strong display of... Something. What thing is that even? That's the matter up for consideration.
So I care about the Best Day, just as an idea. Because I think, in forty years or something, I'd like it if I had a grandkid and they were carrying their family couch down the street, just like everyone else on the block and they'd look at one of the other families and say -"Hey, you know my grandfather invented this?"
I don't know if this is the best or the worst kind of vanity, but it's mine, it's what I have.
I think that this is what kind of sms up the best day for me, this second time through: I invited a lot of people over for brunch, and I realized that I don't have enough chairs. So I went down the street to the one furniture store, which is in walking distance from us, I bought a futon there, not the cheapest but a cheaper one. I bought a futon because it comes in two pieces so I could carry it home one piece at a time. And that's what I did. It looks kind of nice and comfortable, I bought it, brought it home in pieces, one by one, four blocks journey. Then I walked a long ways off and bought a waffle iron, then I went to the grocery to buy groceries, and then I came home, built the futon, made the dough, waited for it to rise, cleaned and cleaned, fixed myself a drink, played the pokemon tcg, won, felt bad about winning, rolled out the dough, cleaned, went to bed.
Woke up early on the best day to chop up melons, fruits, prepare, cook, make and make the food, coffee, people come over. I'm coasting through it, just happy they're happy, or seem to be. And all day long it's a long sweet feeling of peace, prevailing that comes from a work executed. This thing is kind of like wating to see what someone will say about something you've written. You watch and wait and watch and worry. It's not a desperate need for approval or attention you want, just an aknowledgement that what you've done has been seen, that someone knows that you exist and the little, hard thing that you've done, as best you can, that it has be not for nothing.
Writing is better, you can do it for yourself, find an old notebook, read what you've written and be surprised by ideas you'd forgotten you had, be charmed by your invention and smile at your own turns of phrase, thing you'd not remembered writing, or even thinking. A thing you could've done on your own, for yourself.
The Best Day is different, it's a whole experience you plan for others. Back in March I made the March party for all our birthdays - that was a pure delight, a success. Easy though, family - we're oblidged to love one another - today? Well, I don't know. I want...
Sometimes I think this, I think about my father and my mythology of him, what he was and meant to me in life, then I think about my daughter and I think - The Old Man was one of the greats, a giant in the world. True Fact - grown men looked at him admiringly, they called him "The Great One" without irony or blinking. Their kids called him that, like it was his name.
So yesterday I carried a sofa on my shoulders, baked cinnamon rolls from scratch and taped up old liquor boxes to make gunner nests for our nerf-gun war. Because, to me, a toy or an item or a present or some other nonsense, they're nonsense, but winning style, a strong display of... Something. What thing is that even? That's the matter up for consideration.
So I care about the Best Day, just as an idea. Because I think, in forty years or something, I'd like it if I had a grandkid and they were carrying their family couch down the street, just like everyone else on the block and they'd look at one of the other families and say -"Hey, you know my grandfather invented this?"
I don't know if this is the best or the worst kind of vanity, but it's mine, it's what I have.
