WordPlay

The horizon seems to sway gently in seductive gestures. The heat is not oppressive but the open sky allows the sun to bring the full brunt of its energy down on the courtyard below. It’s just about noon and the trickle of guests has not started yet.

“Global warming at its finest,” I muse while gesturing with a can of Dr. Pepper to the sky above. I look like I’m giving a toast to our environmental state of affairs. Cate Blanchett as Irina Spalko seems to give her steely glare off at the sky before being brought back down.

“Whatever happened to April showers bring May flowers?” Someone I don’t know chimes in as she clutches tightly to her boyfriend’s arm.

“That’s Colorado for you,” an older man adds.  It’s the age old answer to the perennial question of Colorado’s schizophrenic weather.  Today might be considered a brisk summer day.  The reality reminds me: It IS almost Summer.  It seems Spring has no more place in our lives except for the mild inconvenience daylight savings brings when a good chunk of the United States must ’spring’ forward.

Spring has passed us by.  The revelation doesn’t shock me so much.  Another day, another dollar has been the mantra which provides me enough willpower to survive the retreat of the cold.  Most Saturdays I am chained to one of the numerous computer stations at the office – logging, digitizing, QC’ing, assembly editing, hunting for b-roll on shows about people enjoying the great outdoors.

The irony is not lost on me at all.

Balloons and party decorations explode in bright, obnoxious colors to announce the celebration for a birthday boy and girl.  A deflated penguin wearing a beanie struggles to stay afloat.  Family, in-laws, cousins, friends all congregate in the courtyard under the sun for the party.  Most of this second family I have not seen since the baby shower but I’m greeted as if only a week has passed since I last saw everyone.  The grill spews out a steady plume of smoke as hamburgers and hot dogs sizzle on the rack.  The light breeze puts the taste of the food in everyone’s mouths.  People are chatting with each other only stopping when the birthday toddlers’ curiosity brings them to the conversation.

Mason, the godson, sits in the surprisingly large plastic pool and splashes water about.  His great, partially toothless smile beams as he throws water at his mom.  Despite the enjoyment, his teeth visibly chatter.  He’s probably the only one keeping cool for the moment.  His parents lift him out of the pool and wrap him in the safe confines of a navy blue towel.  The teeth still chatter but he flashes a big smile for all to see.

I set about my trade taking still photos and operating a video camera of the day’s proceedings.
The toddlers spend time with the various relatives and friends.  Mason and Julia seem to enjoy themselves as only children are able to.  Time moves generously, eroding the crowd a little bit as various friends depart from the party.  Lucas and Megan urge the gathered crowd to come together for a screening of something Lucas put together in the apartment’s movie theater.

The hallways of the complex look like a modernized take of the hallways Danny rode through in The Shining.  High vaulted ceilings with a simple repeating beat of colors extends deep through the hallways almost to infinity.  It’s easy to get lost within and even easier to become disoriented.  Everyone travels in groups lest they disappear within the apartment condos depths.

The screening room is a small theater with nice chairs arranged in front of a projection screen and an in-room speaker set-up.  Various posters for sub-par pictures add a little decor to the mostly black room.  Lucas starts the video displaying the past year of Mason’s life.  It’s pretty much a slideshow of Mason’s firsts interspersed with a handful of video clips of the same.  Underlying the whole proceeding was a choice selection of Lucas’ indie-rock favorites.  I’m sure in 15 years, Mason will be utterly horrified at this revelation.  Today’s child will be 10x more embarrassed because there are more photos and more videos of them than there ever were before and it is much easier to share them with friends and family.  Still, the video was cute in the self-indulgent way.  Parents always must have moments of self-indulgence when it comes to their children.

Some of us got a brief tour of the pool area, the lobby kitchen, and internet and magazine room in the apartment complex.  Seeing all of this makes me understand what a young executive lifestyle truly is all about:  All me, all the time, right now.  Indulgence to me fits more along the lines of an expensive pint of ice cream – this complex is the expensive pint of ice cream all the time.

The party moves back into the courtyard.  The sun has started to retreat westward and the shadow of the complex buildings grows longer.  A Backyardigans decorated cakes sits in the center while two smaller cakes  sit off to the sides.  Once photographs are taken, the crowd rouses to sing Happy Birthday becoming somewhat at a loss as to who they are singing for.  Both Mason and Julia dive into their respective mini cakes.  Julia picks at her cake cautiously eating only a fourth of the cake.  Mason demolishes his cake by putting all of the frosting on his arm and then sucking on his arm to take in the frosting.  Once he has devoured the frosting, Mason decides to play with the cake turning it into an explosion of chocolate cake crumbs.

While the toddlers are cleaned up, the rest of the party partake of slices of the main cake.  This leads into the present opening side of things.  Lucas and his sister sit with the kids and open presents, reading cards.  Mason seems more interested in wanting to investigate his new toys while Julia has more interest in charging around the courtyard.  At this point, the party has wound down all the way.  Everyone seems a bit more exhausted and a little more ready to move on with their day.  The party packs down and everyone packs up and retreats back to their various corners.

I hang around for awhile.  Mason sits with his great-grandfather while some of us play Mario Kart on the Wii within the apartment.  It’s funny watching Mason look at his great-grandfather and seeing the room occupied by four generations of one family.  It’s surreal to me because I don’t even have this kind of living history within my own family.

I turn to look at Lucas and then his wife.  Their bodies don’t show it but their demeanor and the way they sit betray the toll of parenthood.  I can see the enthusiasm and energy of life begin to disappear, replaced by the certain type of apathy being a parent fosters.  My best friend’s aged twenty years already and he’s got a long road ahead of him.  Still, when I see how he looks at his wife, how she looks at him and how they look at their child I can understand the reward for the sacrifices and the challenges ahead for them and I believe they will endure.

Eventually, I call it a day and drag myself back into work.  It’s the latest I’ve been at the office on a Saturday night.

===

I don’t remember much about my first birthday or tol.  It’s a pretty big deal in Korea especially for a male and so my mother put out all the stops with the food and the location.  I even remember the photos of my in the traditional birthday attire.  At one point in the celebration, a bunch of items were put before me and whichever one I select will influence the path I take in life.  I picked the pencil.

My parents both love to remind me of one of my odd cherished treasures.  We have this old VHS cassette of my second birthday party.  This one was a more typical American bbq in the backyard of the old house we used to live in.  At one point right before the candle blowing moment, the little band for the party hat slid out from under my chin and snapped me in the nose and I started to bawl as the candles burn on.  On subsequent viewings, the two or three year-old me would look to the television set and tell the younger me recorded onto the magnetic tape, “Don’t cry.  It’ll be okay.”

A good memory tied in with another.

I think what I really like about the video tape is the way it showed my family.  There’s vibrancy and life and youth in my parents they no longer have.  Back then they seemed less burden by the uncertainty of the present and seemed to billow with optimism.  Now they are worn down and weary.  My sister was more innocent, less embroiled in her teenage rebellions and less involved in the life which drove a wedge between her and the rest of the family.  Now she’s worn and tired, much older than the number reveals.  My aunt and uncle were less marred by the ravages of time.  My grandmother was still alive.  Home still had some meaning to it.

I wonder if the VHS still exists in the maze of our basement, locked away in a box somewhere.  I think I’d like to watch it again before I go.