I was looking for a DVD the other dat, and I wasn’t sure if I had it or if my ex-wife did.  One of those, “Did she keep that movie or did I?” moments.  While perusing through my library of films, I came across American Beauty.  I remembered how much I loved this movie, but I did not exactly remember why.  I had also forgotten that it came out in 1999 (wow, before Natalie was born). So having nothing else better to do, I popped the movie into my PS2.

 

I didn’t sit through and watch the whole thing.  Rather, I scanned through the film, stopping and re-watching those pivotal moments in the movie.  Like where Kevin Spacey’s character quits his job or when he buys the 1970 Firebird and eventually tells his wife, “I rule!” <smile>  I still love that scene.  I love the whole movie, as a matter of fact, because I feel it’s an exploration into the dysfunction of our lives.  It’s a statement against accepting the status quo simply because it’s convenient to do so. I remembered again what I liked about the movie.  I remember watching it in the theater and feeling a little sense of liberation.  I remember admiring the courage of Spacey’s character and wishing I could do the same.  I remember feeling – just a little bit – that it’s OK to turn your world upside in order to make it better.  In order to break the routine.  In order to allow yourself to be happy.

 

American Beauty helped me realize my feelings as they existed at that time.  My feelings about being married.  My feelings about being ordinary.  My concerns about feeling trapped and scared.  By watching this movie in 1999, I felt for the first time a desire to change my life and live it the way I wanted to live it.  It opened my eyes to the fact that I was still in control of what I do and who I become.  In its own way, it served as an inspiration to me.

 

I need to be clear that I am not comparing my marriage at the time to the one depicted in the film.  Things with Alex were never miserable or dire.  They were never insufferable or torturous.  However, the passion and energy had faded, and the constant flame that once was had somehow been reduced to a pilot light in my heart.  I also need to mention again this movie came out before my kids where born, and since I am time-lining, before I met Kim and undertook that ‘journey’ with her.

 

It’s funny to look at this film now and have a completely different appreciation for it.  To see if from this side of the proverbial fence.  I see it now the way a college senior views classes taken as a freshman.  At the time you think it’s almost incredulous that you can take that tough class, but a few years later you look back and think, “I couldn’t be where I am today had I not taken that challenge.” 

 

If ever I get around to writing a screenplay, I want it to be like American Beauty.  I want to write something that challenges the way people think about themselves and life.  I want to write something that reminds people to pursue with reckless abandon those things in life they deem most important.  I want it to be smart and witty and funny.  I want it to make an impact in a person’s life, in much the same way American Beauty impacted mine. 

 

I would like to share this quote from the movie because I feel it talks to the overall theme of the story (and this entry).  If you haven’t seen the film, I suggest you do.  If you have seen it, I hope you make the time to see it again.

 

If you’re Hispanic or a baseball fan – yes, I know that statement can be redundant – then you know there is a lot going on over the recent comments made by Chicago White Sox Manager Ozzie Guillen.  Ozzie was very critical regarding Alex Rodriguez’ indecision as for whom to play in the upcoming World Baseball Classic.  At first, A-Rod said he would not play because he could not choose between the United States and the Dominican Republic, countries in which he maintains dual citizenship.  Alex later changed his position, deciding to represent the United States in this exhibition tournament.  Guillen, who is known for his feistiness as a manager and his candor as a speaker, recently said the following.  "Alex was kissing Latino people's asses…… He knew he wasn't going to play for the Dominicans; he's not a Dominican! ….. I hate hypocrites: He's full of [expletive],"

 

Just to clarify, A-Rod was born of Dominican parents in New York in 1975.  At the age of four, the family moved to the Dominican Republic. At the age of eight, they moved back to the States and took up residence in Miami <shout out!> A-Rod was drafted by the Seattle Mariners right out of high school, and the rest, as they say, is history.

 

I can see Guillen’s point of view on this issue, and I admire his matter-of-fact approach to life.  Ozzie is adored in his native Venezuela, and I have to admit that I have a bit of affinity for Mr. Guillen because my ex-wife is Venezuelan.  It’s a beautiful country with beautiful people, and it’s a shame what is going on with the politics down there.  But that’s a different blog entry.

 

That being said, there is nothing hypocritical about A-Rod’s indecision or waffling on this matter.  By birthright, he is an American.  However, the four years he spent living in the Dominican Republic were very formative years, especially for a talented boy growing up in a land whose number one export is baseball players.  We don’t know how often he returned to the D.R. once his family was in Miami.  It’s obvious he loves the land of his parents; otherwise his decision would not have been so difficult. 

 

I have a friend who was born in Turkey, raised in England and now lives here in the United States.  She is not Turkish or British.  She’s American and will be the first to tell you so.  However, she will tell you so while emphasizing she was raised in England because she still feels a connection with that country.  After all, she lived in the UK until she was thirteen, and there is nothing wrong with her feelings of British pride.

 

My mother was born in Cuba.  My dad, although technically born in the US, was raised in Mexico.  I am proud of my heritage.  I draw from and identify with both cultures, although I can’t cook or fix a car to save my life.  Ask me what I am and I will tell you.  I am an American!  If I were fortunate enough to play baseball for a living, there would be no hesitation on my part in determining should I play for Cuba, Mexico or the U.S.  I would pick the U.S. hands down. 

 

However, if I bring the analogy down a couple of levels, it not so clear cut.  I was born and raised in Miami, lived in New Orleans for six years, and have spent the last ten here in Tampa.  Although Miami will always be ‘home’ for me, I maintain an emotional attachment to the cities of New Orleans and Tampa. All three cities have helped shape my life and experiences, as well as my outlook on the rest of the world.

 

I guess what I am saying is that national pride is not necessarily defined by the geographic location in which you are born.  I believe national pride is a matter of sentiment and love for what you hold dear about a particular country.  There is nothing wrong with loving your country AND the country of your parents.  There is nothing wrong about taking pride in where you are now and from where you came.  No matter how great the influence, it is not where we’re from that defines us.  In the end, we are all remembered for who we become as individuals.

I was in Mass this morning and my eyes caught the likes of this very young and attractive girls sitting near me.  I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking that I shouldn’t be checking out ladies in church.  First of all, ALL guys check out the Sunday morning talent.  You think we’re there for the singing?  Secondly, if you’re going to have impure thoughts, why not in church?  After all, the redemption is almost immediate. Anyways, I was admiring my fellow parishioner when it was time for us to stand.  If you’re Catholic, you know that’s about every 15 seconds in Mass.  We stood up and she was about 6’2”.  Holy …… umm……. never mind.  Her height took me by surprise.  She was stunning AND tall.  There was a euphemistic analogy to Sir Edmond Hillary that I was going to conjure, but I didn’t want to push my luck with God. 

 

This young woman’s height got me thinking about my daughter, and how her pediatrician is estimating that she will be about 5’7” when she grows up.  As a dad, I am excited at the thought about my daughter being tall.  Yet, I can imagine that height in women can cause problems and anxiety.  After all, this girl in church stood out among the crowd.  It was hard to not notice her, and I wonder if she is self conscious about her height.  Throw in the stereotype of women not wanting to date guys shorter than them and it just compounds the situation.

 

How does a parent deal with this?  Specifically, how does a dad address this matter with his daughter?  I only see the positives.  Athletically, height can be such an advantage.  Sure there is volleyball and basketball, but even in sports like soccer, swimming, track and field, there are more pros than cons to being taller than the competition.  If Natalie decides to pursue dancing, her height will give her – IMHO – more elegance.  Should she want to model, height is definitely a plus.  My point is that I see her being tall as a good thing.

 

But as much as I am an admirer of woman, I am not capable of understanding the female perspective.  Trust me.  There is a looooooong list of ladies that will vouch for that statement.  So it concerns me when I think about trying to sell Natalie’s height as a good thing, only to have her not feel the same.  But then again, that applies to all her characteristics and skills, and this concern is equally applicable to both Natalie and Daniel.

 

I think as parents, we all want to focus and harp on our kids’ gifts.  Be it athletics, academics, or just genuine sincerity, we love to make a big deal about those things that make our kids special.  We love to trump up those characteristics that, in our eyes, are unlike anything else we’ve ever seen.  Sometimes, we do it more for ourselves than for the benefit of our kids.  We allow ourselves to feel special because of something our kid does. We allow ourselves to be redeemed at times because of how loving and kind our kid is.  We play into the vicariousness of being young all over again because of them.

 

I watched a movie last night called ‘Code 46’.  There was a great line in the movie that kinda’ sparked the idea of for this entry.  “Everyone thinks their kid is special.  Which makes me wonder where all the ordinary grown ups come from.”  In addition to being a great line, it really made me think of the gap between childhood innocence and adult reality.  It made me ponder how what I foresee for my kids will most likely not occur.  It reminded me that as much as I want or desire a particular life for my children, it is after all their lives to lead. 

 

In the end, it all boils down to being supportive of our children.  If Natalie ends up being tall and ends up having issues with her height, it is critical that I be supportive and understanding.  It is imperative that I provide her a safe outlet for her feelings and frustrations.  It is important that I love her no matter what she does, how tall she is, or whom she eventually chooses to marry (so long as he’s not a Jets fan!).  I need to be for her what my parents were for me.  Ever accepting and ever supportive.  Firm, yet fair.  Tough, yet always loving. 

 

I want my kids to be measured not in feet and inches, but rather by the warmness of their hearts.  If I can do that, then I will have done my job right.

I don’t know where exactly to start this blog entry.  I was thinking of making a reference to my dad and his self effacing dislike of his own birthday.  I was thinking of making analogous commentary of the two really good movies I saw this weekend (Glory Road and The Girl in the Café).  Instead, I think I will go with a recap of what a wonderful birthday weekend this was for me.

 

It started with sleeping in on Friday morning.  And when I say morning, I mean ALL morning.  I guess it’s easy to stay in bed until noon when the weather outside is cold and wet, you have nothing really pressing to do in the A.M., and, oh yeah, you have someone wonderful and warm lying next to you in bed.  I’m sorry, was that sharing too much?

 

Anyways, Lee and I finally decided to get a move on the day and make our way to Orlando where we had a great, albeit uncomfortably filling dinner at the House of Blues.  This was the appetizer to the main course that was watching Sister Hazel in concert.   Yes, I know, we see them all the time.  At least, so it seams.  Truth be told, it was the fifth time since August that we caught them in concert, and they just get better every time.  And we’re going to see them again in Ft. Myers next weekend <grin>.  Just call us full fledged Hazelnuts!

 

But the best part of the concert was not standing right in front of Drew Copeland (Lee’s favorite in the band), or feeling like we were the only two people in the House of Blues when they sang ‘In the Moment’.  Instead, it was when Ken Block, while addressing the crowd as he usually does between songs, included me in the group of birthday shout-outs he did.  How phenomenally AWESOME is that?!?!?!?!?! OMG!!!!!  It is one of thee most amazing birthday gifts I have ever received, and just like my blog for New Year’s Eve, details surrounding other presents will be made available in the Director’s Cut entry <smirk>.

 

We slept in again on Saturday.  When we finally decided to crawl out of bed, we made our way to Fantasia Gardens to play some miniature golf.  I thought I was going to get crushed when Lee made a hole-in-one on the first hole, but as the saying goes, it ‘aint over until the dancing hippo sings.  We followed the putt-putt with lunch at the ESPN Club at Disney’s Boardwalk.  And even though the weather was still cold and a bit gloomy, the day was just great.  It wasn’t because we ate at the world's best sports bar, where we got to see both Alabama and Miami win their respective basketball games btw.  It wasn’t because I crushed  .… umm …. I mean gracefully defeated Lee by 6 strokes.  It was because it was our day to do with it whatever we wanted.  No timelines, no external pressures, nothing we HAD to do.  The day, like the prospect of our future together, was ours for the making.

 

We wrapped up the weekend by sharing time with my kids on Sunday, watching the Super Bowl with friends, and taking Monday – my actual birthday – off.  Special mention needs to be made that my niece, Sara Isabel Gonzalez, was born on my birthday.  She was expected on February 22, but being the spectacular little girl she is obviously destined to be, she decided to have the absolute best birthday date possible.  February 6 just became a lot more special!

 

I look at my blog entry from this day last year.  I was busy getting down on myself and throwing a pity party because life hadn’t quite turned out as expected.  I have learned in these last 365 days that life rarely turns out the way we draw it up in our minds or in our hearts.  I look at where I am today and know that I have NO idea where I will be this time next year.  I have plans, goals and ambitions.  I have a direction I want to follow.  A path I want to take.  But I can’t tell you with any certainty what will happen …… and I am perfectly fine with that.

 

God’s will is what it is, and I have no delusion of being in control of His determination for me.  All I know is that God has blessed me with my two beautiful children.  He has blessed me with a loving mother who still sends me birthday cards with checks in them.  And this past weekend, He graced me with the most amazing birthday weekend I have had as an adult.  A weekend that was made possible by the angel He sent my way.  An angel that is willing to bend over backwards for my happiness and well being.  An angel together with whom I envision making more plans, taking more trips, experiencing more concerts, and sharing a future. 

 

I am so amazingly fortunate and truly blessed.  Yes indeed......Happy Birthday to me!