How prophetic was that slogan? 19 1/2 cents per gallon in 1929, just right for a road trip, which my paternal grandparents and great-grandmother (pictured above) loved.Read more
Maryam Scoble deserves a month’s vacation after spending over 24 hours in labor to birth this beautiful 9-pound boy. I had the good fortune to meet Maryam at the 2006 Blogher conference and can’t even imagine that sweet, gracious, soft-spoken woman having to wrestle with this big beautiful boy. But she did, and it’s all there on Robert’s Twitter stream for anyone who wanted to follow it.
Thomas Hawk went to the hospital today and took a set of some of the most beautiful photos I’ve seen of a newborn. The one above was one of my favorites because he captured so perfectly the instant bond between father and son, the protective gentleness with which he holds his baby boy and quiets him. It’s a beautiful scene. Thomas writes:
The world is rough. I hate that so many babies are born in this world into tough situations. Which is why it gives me such joy when I see babies born into loving stable families who will nurture them and give them every advantage in life that all babies deserve. Milan is one of those babies. He comes into this world with two great loving parents, a proud older brother Patrick, and lots and lots and lots of other friends and family who will love him and help nurture him as he grows. This afternoon was a very happy one for me.
His photos and post, along with the memory walk I took with DG earlier this week down Technology Lane got me to thinking about the world my kids were born into, and how radically it’s changed since.
On December 8, 1980, 2 months or so before the Eldest was born, I wrote this in my journal:
It’s dark now and what a day! John Lennon was shot and killed today…an institution of my childhood…and so senselessly too. Ronald Reagan was elected President last month — he will be President for your first four years of life. Russia is preparing to invade Poland and Iran is still holding 50 of our people as hostages. The ransom is death and their leader is a sick old man.
The week after he was born, I wrote about the wonder of seeing the first Space Shuttle launch and speculated on what it might mean for his future. I had high, high hopes.
August 24, 1989 was Sticks’ birthday. I made a note (but didn’t have time to write like I did with the first one…), that Voyager 2 was sending back amazing photos of Neptune and Triton, and wondered what kind of difference learning about our universe would have on all of us and what wonders he’d get to see in his lifetime. The world seemed more peaceful that year — there were certainly international tensions, but nothing to the scale of the Iran hostage crisis of the Eldest’s time. We seemed to have passed to a quieter, less turbulent era. Yet, I also remember sitting with Sticks less than two months later watching TV and seeing all the damage from the Loma Prieta earthquake right in front of me. We were living in Northridge at the time and were guiltily grateful that the ‘big quake’ had happened up North. One year later, Iraq invaded Kuwait.
March 2, 1994 was DG’s entry into the world. Just 45 days before, the Northridge quake had devastated the San Fernando Valley and areas beyond. We had moved to Camarillo just four months before that quake, but still owned our townhouse in Northridge. I remember thinking that DG had been pretty well shaken, not stirred by that little event. It was strong here, too, and actually did more damage. DG’s day in the world began with the David Koresh/Branch Davidian cult standoff in Waco. By midyear, the OJ Simpson case was the news of the day and I had jumped into the world of online communities to learn about the law and how it worked in criminal cases. At the time I was researching my own family whodunit (who really murdered my grandfather in LA in 1971?) and was fascinated by the process. I never got the answers to my questions, but I was forever changed by the experience of being online, learning and exchanging ideas about things legal.
I live in a world moving faster than I comprehend, with amazing advances in technology juxtaposed against incredible steps backward in human interaction. I live in a world where we live in communities at peace in a nation at war, deeply divided. Yet, when I stop to think about the things that unite us all, like hoping for our children’s future, wanting to protect them, wanting to create a safe place for them, hope rises. Seeing Milan nestled so securely in his father’s big protective hands, I can’t help but think that if we could focus on what we want to give these children of our generation — the gifts of our talents, our knowledge, our passions — we will leave them with high hopes for the future, too.