“Watch out, Abigail! Displacement!”
In this episode of “Doctor Gorman: Medicine Toddler,” Abigail uses her new doctor kit to make a startling medical discovery.
Inspired by the photo stuff lately, I decided to do a google images search for myself and see just how much of me is out there.
It turns out, not so much.
The first image that came up for me was for one of those “find this person” websites. While I’m sure they do a brisk business what with all the groupies that I’m sure are clamoring to track me down, I’m not sure they are using the right photo.
This, my friends, is the first picture that comes up on google when you search for “Alex Gorman”.
They also lie about my age, which is generous of them.
The next pictures related to me are several pages down, and are an ice cream treat that I thought looked like a Dalek and the manual for our thermometer.
You have to go a couple more pages after that to find an actual photo of the man himself. And here it is.
I’m not sure I’m putting my best foot forward onto the internet. After 12 pages of searching, those are the only two pictures of me that came up on a google search.
In fact, other people look better in a search for “Alex Gorman” than I do. Let me give you an example of how this isn’t right; you only have to go to page six to find this:
I saw this link a few days ago and I can’t get it out of my head. I suppose I mean literally…
Suren Manvelyan took macro photos of people’s eyes, showing detail I’d never seen before. They’re truly fascinating. Here’s an example of what I mean.
You can find the rest of his pictures here.
Talking to Ben about his trip to Europe yesterday inspired me to look this guy up again. His pictures are truly awesome. Which is why this post gets that tag, you see.
He takes pictures of modern Berlin and juxtaposes with images of the city post-World War II. I’ve borrowed the one below to entice you over to his website. It really is an amazing idea and really brings history to life.
On her Benjamin Button-like view of the world: “Those jammies are getting too big for me.”
On food: “Only pancake is food.”
On having it all: “Abigail has a crown, and a piggy …”
On plans, optimistic: “Now we’re going to go to the room and not brush teeth.”
On where Daddy should go: “Please, go in the trash can, please.”
On Henry’s name: “Henry’s name is Doe. That’s Doe’s tail.”
On her interpretation of Mommy’s interpretation of how Daddy is handling the marinade: “Daddy is going to go to crazy.”
I think my favorite Elfquest memory is actually of my father. I was a big fan, and the storyline held me captivated, but what I remember is giving them to my dad to read. He would taken them with him on his commute and while other bus riders were flipping through the pages of the Wall Street Journal and the San Francisco Chronicle, my dad would open up his bag and pull out a copy of Elfquest.
I’ve always thought that was awesome.
The reason I’m bringing this up today is because last night I discovered that you can read every issue of Elfquest ever made on their website. I only really read the original series, so I can’t recommend much more than that.
The first few issues are pretty cheesy – it was the 70s, remember – but the style really builds as you take it forward. If you can get past the cliche and back story loaded first issue, you will find a really compelling epic with a lot of interesting, dynamic characters. Frankly, I’ve been tearing through the series all over again.
I mean, working.
Just thought I’d share this gem my dad sent me the other day. He’s the one on the left in the photo. He was six. The man in the back is my grandfather, Jerome, and the little one is Denis. We don’t discuss him much. He’s trouble.
I thought I’d juxtapose that photo against one taken earlier this year, featuring a slightly older Mike Gorman along with his progeny and grand progeny.
Some of you may be surprised to learn that I am a bit wordier around Abigail than one might normally be around a 2 year old. Or a 1 year old. Or an infant.
Vocabulary comes with the territory with me. If you’re wondering what I mean, you can watch this video. It presents a clear cut example of a sentence that is unlikely to avert disaster. Particularly when the potential disaster involves a pre-verbal, newly walking toddler.
But that’s more than a year old, the astute reader notes. Don’t you have any more recent examples of assuming toddlers are more verbose than current data suggests? Don’t you, in fact, have an example that inspired this very post.
Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. And I’m wondering how you made what seems to be a very specific and accurate guess.
Today, during her bath, Abigail wanted me to get her Elmo submarine to work. Well, Elmo’s sub has been in dry dock for some time, with no signs that he’ll be back to harrying the enemy shipping lanes any time soon. I tried to get him to work, but I wanted to make sure that Abigail understood that I probably wouldn’t succeed. I chose what turned out to be my favorite thing I’ve ever said to her. Jessica laughed from the other side of the house.
“Can you lower your expectations for Daddy?”
There are times when you just get overwhelmed, when the weight of parenting and work and writing and working on other projects on the side all get to be too much. This week was one of those times. I’ve actually been intensely busy, but I haven’t given the old blog the attention it deserves. My tens of readers deserve better. I will endeavor to do better. I even have ideas to this effect!
These ideas will be presented shortly.
Well, not too shortly. Could be longly. But definitely not too longly.
Perhaps the dry spell has been worth it if it’s defended you all from writing like that.