Dad time

Welcome to this week’s Reno News & Review.

As regular readers might recall, I’ve got a beautiful young baby at home. Clyde just turned 9 months. He’s crawling and standing, but not quite walking. He’s laughing and babbling, but not quite talking. He’s so sweet it makes my goddamn heart hurt.

When I spend time with the baby, I like to put on something calming, soothing and familiar. But maybe with just enough excitement to sustain occasional interest. For us, it’s been a lot of baseball, Star Trek and the Grateful Dead. If that trifecta isn’t just a classic Dad Time starter pack, I don’t know what is.

Now, mind you, we’re not actively watching those things very closely. No noses up to the screen. Just something on in the corner of the room while Clyde and I play with toys, or read picture books, or smear mashed-up fruits and vegetables all over ourselves.

He responds well to music. He smiles and bobs. He usually likes stuff with a strong beat and clear melody—but some of those long Dead jams are great for naptime. Nothing takes him away to dreamland quite as happily as a long drive while listening to a gently psychedelic version of “Dark Star” or something.

And he likes the bright colors and wooshing sound effects of Star Trek. He totally ignores baseball, but we’ve gone to one Aces game and one Giants game, and he had fun both times we were at the ballpark.

Anyway. After a long workday, I can’t think of anything else I’d like to write about it. I just love that little guy so much. And it’s just painful for me to be away from him for any longer than a couple of hours.