Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Year One: A Milestone.

     It's like, when you're in the hospital after hours upon hours of uncertainty and concern weighing down on your chest like a stone. You pace back and forth in waiting room after waiting room. Being shuffled around as swells of patients enter, are treated and leave to other wings. Sometimes you wonder if they're simply moving you around because nobody wants to tell you the truth. No one has the heart to break yours. The white sterile hallways only add to the anxiousness. Complications they say. Complications in child-birth. No father can bear to hear that. After what seems like an eternity in limbo the nurse finally enters and you try your hardest not to scream and yell. You have so many questions. Your hands shake and sweat but she smiles,"Everything is fine." You would drop to your knees and sob right there if not for the inconceivable need to see your new baby daughter. 

     The beauty of her smiling face is beyond any words written by any poet in any book. It's glorious. You finally weep as you see this brand new life. You get to be the one to greet her. To say hello for the very first time. A brand new person in this world that you helped make with your dick. Your big cave-man dick. It actually came through and shot it's pregger juice all up in your lady-friend. You haven't gotten her name yet but you're not going to ask now. That would just ruin this fleeting, beautiful moment that few people will ever get to experience. A moment between father and daughter. 

     The doctor tells you that it's just a little gas but you know she's smiling. She's smiling with you. You name her Dawn. You're so choked up with this little miracle you almost drop her but not completely. Phew! Close one but she's fine. Two miracles in one day. Three if you count the fact that the doctor wasn't looking just then. She's your pretty little miracle girl. Her mother saw but no one is listening to her because she's Russian or doped up or something. You don't know.  Seeing little Dawn and holding her in your arms makes you thank god that five months ago you met her sixteen-year-old mother in that bus depot restroom and in your passion, (passion is one word for it) you laid the first biological steps for the greatest moment of both your lives. Well your life, she won't really remember. You're pretty sure she's really drugged up cause now she's drooling and eating Jell-o. Perfectly awe-inspiring, miracle, blueberry gelatin. 

     Today is the best day of your life. You get to tell everyone that you're not a homosexual because you've made a baby and that's what straight people do. They make babies with their gigantic, erect penises. Now you're holding the proof in your arms. That little adorable proof. Today is the day your father will finally respect you again and you can re-join the rugby team. The best day of your life. Filled with love all around.

     This is how you feel when you see the movie Year One. Words can't describe. Only feelings of immense joy and spiritual satisfaction. Like you've been saved. It's the same feeling of happiness when you can tell all your buddies that you're not a fairy. You're not bent. Happy. 

     Year One. Best. Movie. Ever. Certainly not gay. because that would be really gay.  

"Hold me closer, Tiny Dancer,
Count the headlights on the highway,
Lay me down in sheets of linen,
You had a busy day today." 
- Sir Elton John 

The Bus Depot

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