He bows, nods, and points to hawks gliding.
Wide-eyed, 14-month-old gusto, untainted by experience
and foreboding forecasts about ice-cap or economic
melt down, happily engages in self-feeding, floor hockey
and fire watching. This latitude should provide food,
extra rain, and room for friends in the post-American
world, barring local war. As a parent, I’m torn: do I
teach activism or farming? Accounting or self reliance?
The glory of the moment is the way a back-spun Frisbee
wavers before settling on oak. Sometimes flipped quarters
vibrate to a rest, but not the way a Frisbee does. So each
morning, after he pulls me out of reading, little James
hands me an inflated bat we use for hockey, or the
fluorescent green Frisbee he wants me to spin. He speaks
volumes in a language trapped between Korean and English,
And no matter how I respond, we’re off to the next adventure.
It’s a crying shame that so many parents get so little time
with their children. Heck, the economics of suburban life
keep getting harder, meaning less goofing-around time.
Caucasians have been in ascension for thousands of years,
with few interruptions. What will James face as deserts grow,
ice slips into the sea, and Asians, through good old hard work,
take charge? If he’s lucky, his Korean heritage will help keep
him motivated, while the ability to grow his own food serves
as a back-up, just in case all the prognosticators have it right.
Copyright, Doug Stuber, 2007. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original.