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16 January 2011

The World's Tallest Midget at 6'4"

    The title of today's blog was my dad's idea of humor.  I thought it was funny, and it reminds me of the title of a John Prine song titled "The Oldest Baby in the World," about a woman (in this case) who's lost that fleeting quality of physical attractiveness that causes the opposite sex (in this case) to pursue her.  Although, as in most of Prine's songwriting, there is the usual burlesque humor, the main message is not satirical, but a compassionate sketch of the child within the adult, longing for love, but ignorant of the fact that love isn't romance, and romance isn't happiness, and happiness is not a goal but a byproduct of a life well lived.

"She's got the mind of a child
And a body peaking over the hill
Well, she would if she could
And she should, but nobody will
With her nails painted red
And her hair so unnaturally curled
Well I think that she may be
The oldest baby in the world

She's tasted the night life
But it's left her with nothing but hunger
And all the available men
Seem to think that they want something younger

But youth is a costume
And the beauty within lies unfurled
And I think that she may be
The oldest baby in the world

Fast horses win races
And royal flushes beat aces
And everyone's playing to keep
So let's turn out the lights
And rock that old baby to sleep

She loves the sound of the rain
But you know she's still afraid of the thunder
She keeps a head full of hope
And a heart that's so full of wonder

She may look like a woman
But she's still some daddy's little girl
And I think that she may be
The oldest baby in the world

Yes, I think that she may be
The oldest baby in the world."

     Tomorrow my eldest and her husband leave for the Dominican Republic (D.R.) for six months.  Matt is the Executive Director of Peligre Hope Partners and will traverse the island from the D.R. to Haiti to aid and develop Haiti for the Haitians, a people who have suffered too much for too long and who wouldn't know a "safety net" if it fell on them, which, by all indicators, never will.  My middle child, Elizabeth, and her husband Josiah will follow Matt and Kelly to the D.R. later this month.
     As a father, and especially a father who saw his role as provider/protector in the days when they were children, I feel sad and a little bit anxious.  Mostly sad, because I am selfish and I will miss them.  Anxious because I know I can't just pick up the phone and call them (or can I?), or drive ten minutes and have coffee with them.
     More importantly, though, I feel an enormous sense of pride in the lives that my daughters have chosen to live.  Sure, they're taking some risks, but they're not letting fear rule the gift of life they've been given.  I'm not sure going to one of the poorest countries in Western Hemisphere is any riskier than sitting on a bar stool hoping that Mr. or Ms. Right will come along and think that you're wonderful, and that you'll ride off into the sunset together.
     Sure, they're young, and sure, this is an adventure, but not a foolhardy adventure.  You see, my daughters didn't spend their childhoods in gated communities in north Scottsdale, insulated from the mostly self-inflicted, quasi-misery of American poverty.  They've been adults for a few years now, and they've chosen to live in areas where the darker side of human nature is right out front for you to see, not hidden behind the facade of expensive homes and automobiles and manicured lawns.
     They'll be okay in the D.R., and they'll be okay in Haiti.  My significant other reminded me this morning that my girls are street smart, not tourists from New Jersey about to become some Puerto Plata neighborhood thug's next mark.  More importantly, the Power that sees to it that the rest of us are powerless will watch over them.  This Power has assured me that everything is just as it's supposed to be, right now.
     My daughters and sons-in-law are neither more nor less than anyone else who has made different choices.
     Kelly and Elizabeth may look like women, but they're still some daddy's little girls.  And just in case I haven't conveyed it, I love them and am really proud of them.

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