Dadd-Yo

Before I get to the good stuff, my friend Melissa sent me this awesome website, that featured this clever cartoon, among others:









Anyway, there may not be a God, but maybe Hell has frozen over. No, I'm kidding, but I do feel weird. See, one of my oldest, youngest friends, whom we nicknamed Yo (come to think of it, maybe I nicknamed him that), is now a father. I remember him running around our neighborhood in diapers (I was six, but I still remember it), and soon, his son will be running around the same neighborhood, although probably in new diapers.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Aw crap. Another rant about how old this guy is or the passage of time or some such shit." No, gentle reader, although time has surely passed, and probably passed me by. But I don't feel old on this one. I should, but maybe it's because I am happy for the little guy. He grew up the youngest child in his family, with three older sisters. he was also the youngest kid on the block, and was sort of adopted by my friends and I, probably because none of us had actual little brothers. His family dynamic being what it was (his eldest sister is a lot elder. I think his oldest nephew is around 10 years younger than he is, and his youngest sister is my age, so about five years older), in a lot of ways, I feel he was almost raised by us neighborhood kids, which may be the modern suburban equivalent of being raised by wolves. When I look at him, I think we we did a good job. Maybe this is how parents feel when their kids grow up.

Now, my version of "doing good" may differ from others. This young man is not yet married, although this was a planned pregnancy (so he says). I don't know if marriage is in their future, but he certainly told his Dad it was. And someone like my father would look at Yo, with his long hair and scruffy beard and his job as a dog-walker, and scoff. And, yeah, he never finished college, preferring to take his band on the road and get educated that way.

So, maybe his road is the one less-traveled, but it's still a road and it ended up in the same spot as most people. And when I talk to him, even though it's only once in awhile, it's like we talk every day, and I can see that he is a smart, funny, well-rounded guy, and okay, I admit, he has more going for him now than I do.

Which brings us back to my favorite yarn about the ol' Dursy, the Last Man Standing. Is it official? Am I the Last Man, since now the boy has become a man and has surpassed me? If so, where's my prize? The other day, one of my married friends said he sometimes envied when I told him my big problem of the day was whether or not to buy Combos or Doritos at CVS. Yeah, there's a prize for you. A life that consists of not much more than Combos vs. Doritos.

And at that pace, probably not a long one.