Erin Drew Kennedy, my stepdaughter, turned 21 earlier this month. Here's a recent photo of her with her boyfriend John Gustat (a member of the band County Hell). As I mentioned in a post a few months ago, their baby is due November 28th.
Erin and I have had some grand adventures, including being thrown out of a Chucky Cheese because one of her friends kicked the giant rat in the nuts. I also have fond memories of miniature golf. The first time I ever took her to miniature golf (she must have been 8 or 9), I showed her the correct stance and told her to hit the ball firmly but not too hard. As soon as I said that, she got that look on her face. That half devilish, half mischief-making look, and took a wild hard swing at the ball. It darted off the tee, off a tree, and directly into the hole. "Like that?" she said. "Yes, just like that," I deadpanned.
Not to mention, the incident of the Hannukah Bear.
Just the other day, I asked her, "What're you reading?"
Erin: "Nabokov's King, Queen, Knave."
Me: "That's cool."
Me thinking: That's the fifth Nabokov in the last year. We must've done something right.
For her birthday, we gave her a video camera so she can have something to record the baby with and three books: Murakami's The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (I think she's going to love Murakami) and both The House of Leaves and Only Revolutions by Danielewski.
Sometimes the overlay of reality seemed a sham, and he was certain that one day he would turn a corner on some small, rubble-strewn street, or pass through an archway into a courtyard, and that other, lost world would be waiting for him.