Vincent Zandri's Blog - Posts Tagged "fathers-and-sons"
Travels with Myself and Another
The following blog is "now appearing" at the Vincent Zandri Vox: http://vincentzandri.blogspot.com/201...
I don't often get to travel with my sons. Most of the time, I'm either on assignment or, more accurately, used to be on assignment before I pretty much started back on fiction full time. Or I'm looking for an escape in order to gather inspiration for a new novel. Or I'm simply looking to get the hell out, which is not uncommon for a guy like me who is always itchy (I think I've mentioned before that I never sit down and watch TV, and it's tough to get me to a movie).
So when the opportunity arose to bring my 17 year old son Harrison (we call him Bear) with me to Italy for the month of August for which I've rented an apartment in Florence, Italy, he and I both jumped at the chance. As some of you already know, Harrison is hoping to become a writer and for now anyway, he has traded in his traditional education for one of being self-taught and simply reading and writing (while he pursues a GED).
He also seems to be in search of the meaning of life these days and asking himself questions that many of us either choose to ignore or run away from because they are so dangerous, the most obvious of which is: Am I really happy?
I may not always appear to be the best father to some people, but I know to others I am an exceptional father. I guess I fall somewhere in the middle. My life in unconventional at best but the love I have for my kids can't be defined in terms of convention of mandates, rules, mores or otherwise. It's simply an unconditional love no matter how often or not-so-often I get to see them.
Harrison and I will be living close quarters for the next month in a second floor downtown Florence apartment in a four-hundred year old building, that's spacious and breezy, with plaster walls, exposed wood ceiling beams, tile floors, french windows and doors, and a large terrace that supports an arbor. I will be writing my new novel and reading over the galleys for Moonlight Rises and Scream Catcher while outlining a new romantic suspense novel based upon one of my most anthologized and translated short stories. We will head to Rome, Pisa and Venice, and we will see the museums and eat the food and drink the drink. But mostly we will spend time together, getting to know one another, as father and son, and as writers.
(To be continued...)
Concrete Pearl
I don't often get to travel with my sons. Most of the time, I'm either on assignment or, more accurately, used to be on assignment before I pretty much started back on fiction full time. Or I'm looking for an escape in order to gather inspiration for a new novel. Or I'm simply looking to get the hell out, which is not uncommon for a guy like me who is always itchy (I think I've mentioned before that I never sit down and watch TV, and it's tough to get me to a movie).
So when the opportunity arose to bring my 17 year old son Harrison (we call him Bear) with me to Italy for the month of August for which I've rented an apartment in Florence, Italy, he and I both jumped at the chance. As some of you already know, Harrison is hoping to become a writer and for now anyway, he has traded in his traditional education for one of being self-taught and simply reading and writing (while he pursues a GED).
He also seems to be in search of the meaning of life these days and asking himself questions that many of us either choose to ignore or run away from because they are so dangerous, the most obvious of which is: Am I really happy?
I may not always appear to be the best father to some people, but I know to others I am an exceptional father. I guess I fall somewhere in the middle. My life in unconventional at best but the love I have for my kids can't be defined in terms of convention of mandates, rules, mores or otherwise. It's simply an unconditional love no matter how often or not-so-often I get to see them.
Harrison and I will be living close quarters for the next month in a second floor downtown Florence apartment in a four-hundred year old building, that's spacious and breezy, with plaster walls, exposed wood ceiling beams, tile floors, french windows and doors, and a large terrace that supports an arbor. I will be writing my new novel and reading over the galleys for Moonlight Rises and Scream Catcher while outlining a new romantic suspense novel based upon one of my most anthologized and translated short stories. We will head to Rome, Pisa and Venice, and we will see the museums and eat the food and drink the drink. But mostly we will spend time together, getting to know one another, as father and son, and as writers.
(To be continued...)
Concrete Pearl
How Art Changes Life
The following blog is "Now Appearing" at The Vincent Zandri Vox: http://vincentzandri.blogspot.com/201...
I have been noticing subtle changes in my son Harrison (Bear) as time moves forward during our month-long stay in Florence, Italy. He is not only paying attention to the art and architecture he views for the first time...David, Hermes Slays Medusa, the Duomo...he is trying to make sense of it all. He finds that the "classic" art has been able to capture the essence of its meaning and in most cases, it is devoid of abstraction. Not a band interpretation for the would-be writer.
Harrison has grown up in a post-post-modern world and is so used to viewing art as an abstraction. Now he is viewing murals and wall paintings that depict "nightmares" so accurately, it's as if he is experiencing them himself.
Today he will see the Uffizi Gallery, the world's most precious collection of Italian art in the world. Giotto, Leonardo, Rubens, Titian, Carravaggio and other masters will peer into Harrison and he will peer into them and his life will be changed even more.
In the process, I get to see how my greatest work of art...my son...will continue to grow and evolve.
Concrete Pearl
I have been noticing subtle changes in my son Harrison (Bear) as time moves forward during our month-long stay in Florence, Italy. He is not only paying attention to the art and architecture he views for the first time...David, Hermes Slays Medusa, the Duomo...he is trying to make sense of it all. He finds that the "classic" art has been able to capture the essence of its meaning and in most cases, it is devoid of abstraction. Not a band interpretation for the would-be writer.
Harrison has grown up in a post-post-modern world and is so used to viewing art as an abstraction. Now he is viewing murals and wall paintings that depict "nightmares" so accurately, it's as if he is experiencing them himself.
Today he will see the Uffizi Gallery, the world's most precious collection of Italian art in the world. Giotto, Leonardo, Rubens, Titian, Carravaggio and other masters will peer into Harrison and he will peer into them and his life will be changed even more.
In the process, I get to see how my greatest work of art...my son...will continue to grow and evolve.
Concrete Pearl
Sharing a First Beer with your Son
The following blog is "Now Appearing" at The Vincent Zandri Vox: http://vincentzandri.blogspot.com/201...
Ok, comes a time in every parent's life (most parents anyway) where they sit down and enjoy a first beer with their son or daughter. In my case, my son Harrison and I were able to experience exactly that in the Irish Bar located in Santa Maria Novella in Florence, Italy.
Bear is 17 and a half and more than old enough to legally drink a beer here. So what a great opportunity to share something so sacred as a drink with my own son and to unwind and just talk with him in a way we rarely can back in the states.
We took a table outside that my friends who work the establishment cleared for us. The bartender Steve (an art student and all around great dude), brought us two Heineken's a piece. Setting them on the table, Bear grabbed his in his fist and took a big swig. I told him to go easy. The alcohol could go to his head. But he just shrugged his shoulders like, "No big deal, dad."
Suddenly I was reminded of that scene in the 80's comedy classic "Vacation" where Chevy Chase sits down to enjoy a first beer with his teenage son. The kid chugs the beer and crushes the can in his fist, making it plainly apparent it's obviously not his first. Now, I'm not condoning underage drinking here by any means. But what I'm talking about is a sacred right of passage. In this case, I thought I was above being the forty something naive dad, and totally in tune with my son. But when he downed his beer like it was just another glass of Pepsi, I knew that this wasn't Bear's first beer by any means.
It made me feel strange, like I didn't know him as well as I should. However, we had one more together and we entered through that rite of passage together and we talked about life and dreams and adventures and ups and downs, and all those things that make up a life worth living.
Sharing your first beer with your son isn't all about beer. It's about love.
The Remains
Ok, comes a time in every parent's life (most parents anyway) where they sit down and enjoy a first beer with their son or daughter. In my case, my son Harrison and I were able to experience exactly that in the Irish Bar located in Santa Maria Novella in Florence, Italy.
Bear is 17 and a half and more than old enough to legally drink a beer here. So what a great opportunity to share something so sacred as a drink with my own son and to unwind and just talk with him in a way we rarely can back in the states.
We took a table outside that my friends who work the establishment cleared for us. The bartender Steve (an art student and all around great dude), brought us two Heineken's a piece. Setting them on the table, Bear grabbed his in his fist and took a big swig. I told him to go easy. The alcohol could go to his head. But he just shrugged his shoulders like, "No big deal, dad."
Suddenly I was reminded of that scene in the 80's comedy classic "Vacation" where Chevy Chase sits down to enjoy a first beer with his teenage son. The kid chugs the beer and crushes the can in his fist, making it plainly apparent it's obviously not his first. Now, I'm not condoning underage drinking here by any means. But what I'm talking about is a sacred right of passage. In this case, I thought I was above being the forty something naive dad, and totally in tune with my son. But when he downed his beer like it was just another glass of Pepsi, I knew that this wasn't Bear's first beer by any means.
It made me feel strange, like I didn't know him as well as I should. However, we had one more together and we entered through that rite of passage together and we talked about life and dreams and adventures and ups and downs, and all those things that make up a life worth living.
Sharing your first beer with your son isn't all about beer. It's about love.
The Remains
My Son: Chip Off the Old Block...Sort Of
The following blog is "now appearing" at The Vincent Zandri Vox: http://vincentzandri.blogspot.com/201...
Did you ever find yourself watching your teenager eat and whispering softly to yourself: did I eat that much when I was his age?
My 17 year old son, Bear, and I are now entering into week 4 of our month long stay in Italy. All has been smooth sailing as they say thus far, with our having investigated every museum, church, monestary, cathedral, catacomb, and tomb in Rome, Florence and beyond. We've seen relics like bits and pieces of the true cross, pieces of Christ's thorn of crowns, Galileo's teeth and cut off fingers, and the entire mummified body of Cosimo De' Medici (he was a tiny man for having made such a monumental impact on art and architecture). We've climbed mountains, towers and domes, and navigated narrow alleyways and tunnels. We've put in 5 miles a day running along both the Arno and the Tiber and we even found an old gym to bench press and get in some dead-lifting.
All throughout I could not have asked for a better adventure companion if I'd pre-ordered one from out of an old Montgomery Ward catalog. But I have to say, man, can that boy eat. And not just your average pasta or lasagna. True to form, Bear goes for the more exotic in order to please his palate. Snails drowned in sauce. Squid and muscles soaking in a fish brine. Whole sardines sitting in a vat of olive oil and rank fish heads...It seems there is nothing the kid doesn't like or won't try.
I don't recall being that adventurous an eater when I was his age. Pizza mostly, burgers and tacos. That was about the extent of my culinary table of contents. But not the Bear. Like he said on the plane over, he wants to experience everything he can about the life here in Florence. http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
It's a shame I'm here to work or we might travel to some other out of the way places along the coast. But that will have to wait until I come back in just a few months. In the meantime, Bear wants me to book tickets for us to see the pyramids in Egypt. I'm sure he'll find the pyramids as breathtaking as he did climbing to the cupola atop St. Peter's Cathedral. I'm sure he'll make us ride a camel. He'll want to climb the pyramids, block by solid block. He'll want to look out over the valley and soak it all in.
Afterwards, he'll find something exotic to eat. Something goopy, fishy, rank, and entirely dramatic. Chip off the old block...Sort of.
CHECK OUT THE NEW NOVEL: MOONLIGHT RISES!!!!! Moonlight Rises
Did you ever find yourself watching your teenager eat and whispering softly to yourself: did I eat that much when I was his age?
My 17 year old son, Bear, and I are now entering into week 4 of our month long stay in Italy. All has been smooth sailing as they say thus far, with our having investigated every museum, church, monestary, cathedral, catacomb, and tomb in Rome, Florence and beyond. We've seen relics like bits and pieces of the true cross, pieces of Christ's thorn of crowns, Galileo's teeth and cut off fingers, and the entire mummified body of Cosimo De' Medici (he was a tiny man for having made such a monumental impact on art and architecture). We've climbed mountains, towers and domes, and navigated narrow alleyways and tunnels. We've put in 5 miles a day running along both the Arno and the Tiber and we even found an old gym to bench press and get in some dead-lifting.
All throughout I could not have asked for a better adventure companion if I'd pre-ordered one from out of an old Montgomery Ward catalog. But I have to say, man, can that boy eat. And not just your average pasta or lasagna. True to form, Bear goes for the more exotic in order to please his palate. Snails drowned in sauce. Squid and muscles soaking in a fish brine. Whole sardines sitting in a vat of olive oil and rank fish heads...It seems there is nothing the kid doesn't like or won't try.
I don't recall being that adventurous an eater when I was his age. Pizza mostly, burgers and tacos. That was about the extent of my culinary table of contents. But not the Bear. Like he said on the plane over, he wants to experience everything he can about the life here in Florence. http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
It's a shame I'm here to work or we might travel to some other out of the way places along the coast. But that will have to wait until I come back in just a few months. In the meantime, Bear wants me to book tickets for us to see the pyramids in Egypt. I'm sure he'll find the pyramids as breathtaking as he did climbing to the cupola atop St. Peter's Cathedral. I'm sure he'll make us ride a camel. He'll want to climb the pyramids, block by solid block. He'll want to look out over the valley and soak it all in.
Afterwards, he'll find something exotic to eat. Something goopy, fishy, rank, and entirely dramatic. Chip off the old block...Sort of.
CHECK OUT THE NEW NOVEL: MOONLIGHT RISES!!!!! Moonlight Rises
