I’ll tell you in a minute. Here’s some other assorted cool stuff first:

Before that though, let me just flat out own up in case I haven’t made it clear – I’m burnt out on a lot of things I have spent a lot of time on. I’m tired of the political work I’ve been doing for a while and tired of school and tired of theoretical concerns. I care about it all a lot but I’m tired and need to spend time on other stuff.

Back to cool stuff – my wife and I got Rock Band 2. Wow is that ever cool. I love it. I’m bad at the drums but I really like to play around with the drums. I can’t afford a drum set and I don’t have the space to keep them and I live in a place where the noise would be unacceptable. Rock Band 2 lets me play around as if I’m playing the drums, and I can drum to songs I like at a reasonable pace. An added bonus is that since I like fast songs, if I play the easy fast ones on the hardest setting I get something of a work out. Even cooler, it’s something my wife and I can do together.

Another cool thing, also not the coolest thing ever, is rock climbing. As I’ve said many, many times, holy fuck do I love rock climbing. Even more than Rock Band 2. Last saturday I made more progress on a route I’m working on (a 5.9- for anyone counting) and got up to the top on a new route I hadn’t done before (a 5.8 or 5.8+). And climbing continues to give me motivation to exercise, to where I actually sort of like exercising now. Rock. (Ha!)

Yet another cool thing, and this part of the coolest thing ever, is that my wife is pregnant, as I’ve mentioned. She recently had the first ultrasound and brought home pictures. I get to go with to the next one as it’s scheduled for a day when I’m not working. It’s so awesome to get to see some image of our baby. According to the interwebs our baby is about the size of a lemon. Tonight we went to our first prenatal class at this birth collective place. It was cool. It was on breastfeeding and postpartum stuff, which is a ways off (our baby’s due in late August, the latest due date at the class) but really cool still and very …. like …. concretizing.

On concretizing: I forget where it was but some thing – a book or an article in a magazine or an interweb site – suggested that my wife keep a pregnancy journal. She suggested as part of or instead of that that she and I could each write letters to our baby. I did that tonight. I have this paper blank book thing I bought to maybe journal in (not my strength most of the time) or to keep track of how I spend my time and money (also not my strength, either tracking my spending or spending wisely – though I’ve been spending both time and money better since the exercise and rock climbing boom [like my abs class, holy crap is that ever great, and greatly painful – like 3 days of soreness after only 30 minutes of class; luckily my friend Nathan C comes with to offer a voice of sympathy during the punishment, but I digress]).

I’d only written one page in the thing for a while and it’s a nice looking little book so I figured I’d tear out that page – just an account of how much I time spent at this and that meeting and grocery shopping and reading for school and grading etc etc – and instead convert the thing into a book of letters to my baby. As in, I wrote the first one.

It was a really moving experience. It was nice to spend some time on that, telling my child-to-be how much I’m excited about being a parent-to-be, and starting to think of myself as a dad. That’s awesome – the coolest thing ever, to be precise. It’s also a bit odd and thought provoking, I think. The letter, like any other, is from a person at an earlier point in time and will be read by person at a later point in time – or, put differently, is written by a person in the present and read by a person in the future. The major difference from a conventional letter, though, is that normal letters are written by a person in one time who is thinking about and writing to a person in that same time even though the letter arrives a bit later. The time differences are not generally major, as in, usually there is not a swath of time between writer and reader such that that swath of time is incredibly meaningful in the sense of there being – after the writing of the letter but before the reading of the letter – a qualitative difference in the reader’s life; or at least that’s my presumption about letter writers’ typical (imaginative?) orientations (having been myself an avid letter writer for many years, prior to getting into electronic communication). In this case, my letter is from me to my child who is not yet able to read the letter, and who will read the letter at an indeterminate point in the future after a chunk of time has passed which – according to me now in the present as letter writer – will be an incredibly meaningful swath of time. My child will be different than now, and I will too. So in a way it’s like (it will be like?) a letter from someone who doesn’t exist anymore to someone who didn’t yet exist.