Jackson has a mad gag reflex.
Little man threw up on a doctor once as soon as the tongue depressor hit his tongue, no warning, no “Ahhhhhhh…”, nothing. If Jackson’s toothbrush slips off his teeth and touches his tongue, Jackson will throw up in the sink. If Jackson swallows too much water, he will shut down the master planned community pool for 1-2 hours while the bored staff adds chemicals and takes measurements until the chemical : vomit ratio is safe. Jackson has thrown up at school, in restaurants, and in my car. Jackson will sometimes even pull a Hendrix and vomit in his sleep—he just wakes up all covered in mess.
Jackson has a mad gag reflex.
I want to begin to articulate a strange new form of consciousness I inhabit now that I write a blog. It’s a difficult task because I’m just becoming aware of it, and it was totally unexpected. I imagine some of you are already familiar with it. But I wonder if there’s been any long term studies of blog writing and the consequences for consciousness? Probably not. I’m a pioneer! Here’s my proposition. Being a person who writes a blog alters that person’s fundamental relationship to the world, self, and others. It moves that person into a trippy kind of 3rd person relationship with him or herself and wedges open the potential for a goofy new detachment from what used to be conceived as problematic (it’s a lot like the coolest drugs).
Everything is blog fodder. And because all of one’s experiences are related to as potential blog fodder, no experiences are off limits or bad. What the hell am I talking about?
Yesterday I took Jackson to phase one of getting braces. Yeah, the part where they goob your mouth full of bubble gum flavored cement to make models of your choppers. Jackson was so wired and anxious that he couldn’t stop with this crazy nervous smiling. He looked like a 9-year-old serial killer. He was so amped up that, in italics, before the glop of bubble gum cement goo even touched his mouth, he hurled all over the orthodontist’s floor.
Here’s where my break in consciousness occurs. I had a wholly different reaction to this event than I would’ve had 2 months ago. Let’s look at both my probable pre-blog reaction and my actual post-blog reaction, and maybe we can begin to grasp a notion of what I’m calling “Blog Consciousness”.
PRE-BLOG BLACK HOCKEY JESUS (in a thought balloon): O my God Jackson is hurling on the floor and everyone is looking at me and the orthodontist hates my guts. Why are you so weird, Jackson? Why can’t you be normal, Jackson? O my God I just mentally asked my son horrible questions that would totally eff up his self-esteem if he could read my mind. I am a bad person. I am no good at being a Dad. I don’t know what to do. I should get drunk. I should kill myself. Jackson threw up.
[I hear the haters already. “What if Jackson reads this? You will eff up his self-esteem.” Yeah so what if Jackson reads this? Listen. I wore the headgear my whole 5th grade year. It’s hard for me to feel sorry for Jackson because his Dad has an awesome blog when I WORE THE HEADGEAR MY WHOLE 5th GRADE YEAR! 11-year-old me would’ve given you 5 million dollars if his only problem was his Dad’s fucking blog. If you are reading, Jackson, remember: these are just made-up characters based very loosely on things exactly like they happen to us. I love you. Go to pokemon.com or something.]
Here’s my post-blog actual reaction:
POST-BLOG BLACK HOCKEY JESUS (in a thought balloon): O my God Jackson is hurling on the floor. How did my life get so awesome? This is so funny I might pee my pants. [out loud] Jackson! You totally hurled on the orthodontist’s floor!
JACKSON: (spitting): Pah! Yup.
BHJ: I totally love you you’re crazy you just totally hurled at the orthodontist ha ha ha! Ahhh ha ha ha!
JACKSON: Pah! I love you too, Dad.
BHJ (to orthodontist, giggling): This is never going to work. He’s gotta mad gag reflex plus he’s all amped up. Do you have a valium?
I’m glad you’re reading. Really. It’s blowing my mind that you’ve even read this far on this long post. But I gotta tell you I’m a lot gladder about this (and so is my family): The Wind In Your Vagina is having some magical goofy transformative effect on who I am and the way I live in the world. I’m more alert. I’m excited and enthusiastic to wake up in the morning. I’m more engaged with my life. And best of all I’m a lot less of a dick. So thank you. Thanks for reading. Thanks for teaching me how to be less of a dick.