A Good Man

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"He summoned all of his joy when he laughed

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It suffered all of his joy when he cried. 

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And sometimes when he got into talkin' 

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Man he could rattle on and on          

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He was a good man and now hes gone." - M. Ward

There's a moment after you get off of a roller coaster when your feet have to get used to the ground again.  That's me back in New York.

About 2 weeks ago I called my grandfather, "Papa," and told him about the school that I'm working at.  It's no small thing to me to hear him say that I've made him proud.  I could here in his voice though, one I've known and loved since I was born, that he was tired and in much pain.

On a Friday, I got news that he passed away.  I needed to be with my family.  Rushed, worried, and tired, I was able to find a way home by the following Wednesday.

I've had a few sudden thoughts that I think are worth sharing, particularly to the people who share love for my Papa.

People keep telling me that they're sorry and that it must be hard.  And it is in many ways.  But apart from all the difficulties, I've realized that when a person lives their life in love, there's so little to fear and so much to celebrate.  A great many people came to tell our family that Papa was like a brother, a father, or a grandfather to them.  He is a true model of how to love people.

I feel those reverberations, those waves of his love that are still here because of him, are so much stronger than my own sadness.  And I can't help but think that perhaps he was sharing with us what heaven is to him.  I wish I could see my family and all those people under better circumstances, but that's not how the world works.  We are connected instead by the love of people like papa.

My weekend at home for Papa's funeral was filled with laughter and celebration. And I'll always remember that he would have LOVED it.  What a way to go- in the warmth of the woman you love, the children you made into adults, the grandchildren who want to be just like you, the friends who helped along, and everyone knew that they were loved by this man.


I miss Papa.  And he's gone, but not in us.  I feel grateful that even in passing on, he throws a hell of a party.

I'm excited to live my life in many ways the way he did- laughing, dancing, loving, and looking good doing it.

Well,

June 22nd was a big day for me.  It is my 1 year anniversary of living here in NYC.  Coincidentally enough, it was also my first day of school.  I am now a master's student at City College for a degree in Special Education with a bilingual extension.  I'm a bit overwhelmed, and too excited to sleep (Yes I realize how counter productive that is).

This is how I feel:
1.

(This comes from here)

2. Repeat one.

The most notable quote I've heard as a fellow:

"To be a good teacher, you must have the skin of an alligator and the heart of a poet."
Katina Lotakis, Principal, JHS 144 Michaelangelo

I'm very grateful for my life, my family, and for music. I'm going to try my damndest to do right by the students I will be working for. 

I wish

Hmmm.

It's late at night.  I'm listening to pandora - "The Shins" station.

"Bulletproof... I Wish I Was."  It hits me hard.

I recall this image.

And I think to myself that every morning,

a tiny piece of me that once felt a rush of connection to the person that wrote this postsecret

slips away.

I hate compromise.

And I feel so often weighed by a mountain of tiny ones.

I chip away every day at them.  Knowing that one day.  Fuck Yea, I will live like this. (insert dream here)

Settling in

Hi mom.

Probably a few other people check up on this every now and then, but you´re my follower and I made something for you.


I like my new place a lot.  I have cool roommates and a killer bedroom.  And most excellently, my hour long commute to work is whittled down to a brilliant two minute trek down 181st street passed a handful of people I´m used to seeing everyday.  There´s Alex, the shoe and leather repair guy, Popeye the locksmith (though he is mildly sailor-mannish), Gina the dry cleaner, Sara the hairdresser, (this particular Dominican hair parlor is is the only one with a French name.  It´s called "Le Haircut."), and finally a handful of really nice and laid-back people I´m now used to spending my days with at City Drug Pharmacy.  Sometimes it all feels a little too Mr Rogers´ to be true. 

Sure, it´s not the ideal job I envisioned myself going with after college, but it´s no stress and it pays the bills.  And I feel pretty cozy there now.  I have a couple of students now who I tutor in various levels of math and English, ranging from first to eleventh grade levels.

I´m building a desk this week out of things I´ve found, which I think is pretty cool.  And I´m a handful of minor purchases away from having all I need to tailor my room into a workspace to finish recording the songs I´ve written in NYC.  I don´t have any plans for the music, I just like exploring with it.

On that note, one of my new roommates is also a musician.  He plays the sax- Dad you´d dig the way he plays- also he plays the flute, and he sings from time to time. We mad this in lieu of photos.  We had fun:=) I hope you like it.



I´m still waiting to hear from the Fellows Program- and in about 3 weeks I´ll be in the threshold of time they said they needed to reply with an answer.  I still feel it went well, but I put in the back of my mind.

That pretty much covers the crucial updates.  I´m trying to scrimp and save to go to MJ´s wedding.  I think it´ll work out fine.  It always does with the fam.  Oh yea- I need stuff for my walls.  If anyone has something they could send me let me know... in a blank white room, anything would be better than nothing.

Much love,
Michael Out.