Friday, 23 January 2015

The Future

"Stay Up Late" by Talking Heads
It's a curious thing, being a grandfather for the first time. I stare at photos of the little guy several times a day and all I can think, while I'm envying him his starting point with its approximately twenty-nine thousand-and-two-hundred days of future (I'm working with eighty as the average life span for a North American male here, but I'm hoping that the medico-technological future will provide him with a longer one), is that he's a flawlessly formed tiny human male who will one day die. Strangely enough, I've never been more cheerful. Many friends and family members (both those who have seen him in the flesh or via photo), have described him as "perfect," and he is, but that's only part of the story (only part of his story, whatever it becomes). 

He's perfect because he's new, of course. I'm well aware that this implies that imperfect equals old, and I can live with that, residing as I do on both sides of the equation. My first grandchild is named Rowen, and his parents (his mother is my still perfect daughter) are now the very happy protectors of his newness and his fresh perfection.

I love how Talking Heads sound like robots who are fully human, especially in this song about babies and new parents.

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