I know a thing or two about grandmas. You might say I'm a grandma expert.
Hello, my name is David, and I'm a Male Grandma. I feel better already.
My special abilities are thoughtful gifts and soup. I am beloved of animals and babies. I know my way around a garage sale. I strongly believe that food solves most problems. I require hugs to maintain my magic. Grandma Magic.
What does any of this have to do with the McDonald's commercials other than repeated and deliberate use of the word "grandma"? I won't answer that or any of your other questions, Becky.
I've often been described as motherly. At first, I was insulted by this. My latent masculinity programming would automatically go on the offense. Motherly? Excuse you? The Masculinity Protocol doesn't allow for comparisons to any female characteristic, least of all that of a mother. As I grew and matured, I came to realize that being compared to a mother wasn't an insult. The people that were saying it were people close to me, so their intent was not to ridicule or emasculate me. I'm caring and empathetic like a mother. A compliment. Never been good at taking those. Where was I going with this?
I notice when people get haircuts. This startles some people, especially men. To the straight male mind, when I say "Hey! You got a haircut. Looks good." that translates to "Yo, lemme get that dick".
I dadsplain more than I mansplain. The difference is intent. Dadspaining comes from a place of love and concern. Perhaps you don't know the proper way to remove an engorged tick. Allow me to dadsplain that process to you, as well as the dangers of Lyme Disease. There is an easier way to complete the task you are doing, allow me to give you an unsolicited tutorial on my superior method because I love you. It's not as bad.
I'm working through a lot right now, mentally and emotionally. My Dad passed away on August 10th. I haven't talked much about it. I don't know that I'm going to. I don't know that anything makes any sense. And that's the one thing I know for sure.
Things get weird for me. I'm sure it gets weird for everyone, but I only know from my own perception how weird it gets. Life feels like a movie I'm watching. I feel like a spectator.
Some days, I don't feel anything. I wonder sometimes if my feelings are only the feelings of the people around me and that when I'm by myself I don't really feel anything.
I'm at the beginning of a two week break. I'm not sure what I want to get out of it other than doing some laundry and throwing away a lot of shit. The head-space I'm in right now is uncharted territory for me. Where do I go from here?
I'm trying to keep it sweet and spicy, like grandma. Maybe a little bit more spice than sugar. I want to be a more authentic me, but I'm not sure what that looks like. I don't recognize myself sometimes.
Control is really just the illusion of control. Keep the plates spinning. Figure it out. Don't stop moving.
Day 1. Rest.
