For much of the last month, I’ve been trying to get my one-year-old son to say, “Rise Up,” the ubiquitous, and admittedly a little cloying, slogan of the Atlanta Falcons. He hasn’t really come close. And maybe that’s for the best.
When my father and I FaceTimed with my son roughly 24 hours after Sunday’s Super Bowl kickoff, I didn’t bother prompting him to say anything. I just wanted to see his smiling face. I knew it would cheer me up. My dad, on the other hand, couldn’t help himself. “Can you say, ‘Rise Up? Fall Down?’” he asked. (Before my kid’s face popped up on my phone screen, I wouldn’t have found that joke very funny at all. But I managed a chuckle.)
The game had left me catatonic for much of Monday, and I still can’t really talk about it. My dad said he woke up every 30 minutes Sunday night analyzing how a 25-point could slip away in less than a half. Messages of stunned sadness streamed to my iPhone from shell-shocked Falcons fans I’d grown up with, as did plenty of notes of sympathy from people who just wanted the preternaturally successful Patriots to go down in flames.
Monday night, as we went out to dinner, I asked my dad if I should try to pass on my unflinching love for Atlanta’s hapless sports franchises to my son. “God, no,” was his response. “Please don’t.” I’ve only been a father for barely a year, but if there’s one overwhelming objective to my new role, it’s to protect my son from anything that could hurt him. And being an Atlanta sports fan definitely hurts, more acutely this week than normal. Continue reading Should I share the heartbreak of being an Atlanta sports fan with my son?
The middle week in January was a real roller coaster for me. On Wednesday, January 13, I found out the cable network where I’d been working for the past two years, Al Jazeera America, was shutting down in late-April.
That news was barely digested when, on Friday, my wife, Kiera, went into labor.
Siddhartha Reyes Swaminathan was born in the wee hours of Saturday, January 16, overshadowing any other event that took place early that week and more or less all of them before it (at least in my life).
His first few days have been intensely documented via several iPhone cameras and even a couple traditional ones. If you want to watch him as he grows, we took inspiration from friends and made him his own Instagram account, @sidsw4mi, you can follow him there.
Work stuff will sort its out, but I’m feeling totally consumed by this little guy right now—and have to imagine I will be for the foreseeable future.
Kiera and I met nearly a decade ago. We took the protracted route, but I couldn’t be more pleased that we finally got here. (Even if it took me having to leave my beloved NYC.)
Happily married. Officially.
Oh, and we just made Kiera a new website since she has a book coming out this fall. Check it out.
So, my dad and I now have a joint web venture. It’s not going to be the next Gawker or ScienceBlogs or anything, but it’s surprisingly of-the-moment, especially for peanut butter fiends. We just launched a blog dedicated to food safety. It’s called Food Safety Policy. (Sexy, right? My dad’s a former academic, so go easy.)
Anyway, we’re combining my ability to post things to a weblog with his ability to know what he’s talking about–as long as it’s about food safety–to bring news and analysis on our increasingly worrisome food supply. (Pet food, spinach, jalapenoes, oh my!)
Continue reading Teaming Up with My Pops