The Fionn algorithm

I have a new theory, that the number of times someone implies that Fionn is cute is directly proportional to how high maintenance he is on a given day. I think a corollary of this would be as sleep varies from negative to positive infinity, Fionn's crankiness similarly varies. Such is true with all youngsters I'm certain.

So a personal pledge that I made to myself outloud when Andrea was also in the room, was Fionn wouldn't change the way I spend my time, there wouldn't be a drastic variance in our lifestyles or the activities we enjoy. For the time being I can't go out to a live music session at a small venue and rock out, mostly because the noise wouldn't be good for the little Mister, but also because Oregon is very twisted in its alcohol laws and won't allow a minor (even a baby) to be in the venue after 6pm if there is alcohol served during the music. Whatever, I've seen people drinking OR brew for breakfast, and thinking I should join in.

So Fionn is now beyond his very brief "wobbly" phase simultaneous with the time of year that Andrea and I do most of our hiking. Winter in the Willamette Valley and coastal range is the best time of year for hiking as the streams wake up and mosses begin to flourish again. Sunday afternoon we hiked the Woodpecker Trail at Wm. Finlay NWR just south of Corvallis. With a light rain and cool, flatly-lit grey skies we loaded Fionn Kiko into the hiking pack for the first time. Fionn appeared fond of the the pack as his grin implies and eventually drifted off to slumber as we strode through the trees. Both  Sunday and the previous trip to Finlay we visited the refuge at dusk and were treated to the sound of resident owls hooting away at each other, their wise call-and-repeat sequence reminds of evening's onset at Higgins Lake, my home always inhabited with native birds of Northern Michigan. Besides the nesting pair of Pileated Woodpeckers who left their mark in a scattering of Jack Pine around the yard, walking through the woods near the house at Higgins Lake was the first time I interacted with an owl up close. Owl species in the area are quite large when healthy and mature, I'm pretty sure I recall the owl I spotted on a branch in the woods behind the house was half my size at that age. Like many nocturnal animals, owl's eyes are piercingly intense and feel as thought they're looking straight into your soul.

Some words about the hair...

I get shocked looks and gasps frequently, incredulity! Fionn has latent hair genetics, I am certain from the maternal grandpapa. The Dutch have better hair than the Irish-German mixed breeds. Their chocolate is excellent as well.

Several movie characters have come to mind frequently when trying to quantify Fionn's coiffure: Yahoo Serious from Young Einstein, Beetlejuice, Val Kilmer in Real Genius. And the rockstars: John Liden, aka Johnny Rotten of the Sex Pistols, B.A.D., etc. He's much more handsome than John Liden, however, if he wants to be a rockstar I'm all for that. That would be one thing I'd live vicariously for.

If Junior has tapped into a cosmic source of energy, his hair is the conduit for transporting the other-worldliness, the worm-hole, his own personal infinite improbability drive. Douglas Adams would agree I think.

We all need a physical metaphor or two to suggest a hint of unique-ness in the world, ants can tell each other apart by chemical signature, I believe mine would be the tooth gap, and some say I now resemble David Letterman for that distinctive feature. I could do worse I suppose, I was more hoping for an ancient Sumerian Warrior with a notable gap, or at least one of the swarthy characters of the Spaghetti Westerns. I guess I'll take what I can get.

For now Fionn's will be his hair, I'm sure other notable features will diverge from just the hair but that works for me. My 3-month old has the do of a network news anchorman standing out in hurricane-force winds. Like he received the Heat Mizer blast straight out of the womb.

Outstanding.

I pray that the mullet never becomes cool again.

Maiden Voyage; not just a great song....

So this is for everyone; family and friends, new and old, those not on Facebook (good for you). For the proof that, even though it took me 39 years, I reproduced (don't think I can't hear the gasps and gut-wrenching laughter, even through cyber-space).

I spent a fair amount of subconscious thought on a proper name for this while I was laundering his fouled diapers this weekend, because it'll no doubt become much more than just a way to see how Fionn's progressing. Primarily because I can't help running on about something, some incident that inspires me to yammer away until someone says, "shut up and drink another beer."

I probably won't censor myself much, but if anyone is offended, I didn't set out to do that intentionally, but I won't apologize either.

Enjoy the images of young Fionn, I'm determined to create an interesting life for him, until he leaves on his set of adventures.

Peace out,
pmac