Zachary Winston Williams: The Boy With the Golden Tongue

Welcome to Zach's Blog

After seemingly endless prodding, teasing and thinly veiled condescension from friends and family, my wife and I have finally succumbed to peer pressure and have entered the 21st century. That's right, we are now officially "blogging". Besides, what better way to introduce ourselves to this mysterious and novel medium than through the shameless exploitation of our wonderful little boy, Zachary Winston Williams. Since before he was even born Zach has been a constant source of "oohs" and "aahs" which I have piously and painstakingly documented with my camera. Indeed, you- the common citizen of the Internet, will no longer have to miss out on precious moments such as "Baby's first dirty diaper" or "Baby blows milk out his nose all over mom".

During the first months of his life, Zach has had his photograph taken ad nauseum. I have countless photos of myself, Lesley, friends, family and a few complete strangers holding our son in every possible setting imaginable. There are so many photos in fact, that it would be impractical and maybe even a bit cruel to post them all here. So in order to conserve both available memory and the readers sanity, the plan is to pick a 'small' handful of the best pictures and include a link to my flickr website for those with the fortitude to tackle the rest.

On my son's behalf, I would like to extend my sincerest appreciation and gratitude for your interest in his life. I hope all of you will enjoy watching him grow and develop over the next months and years. I know I will.
~Kacy

Sunday, June 14, 2009

The Boy With the Golden Tongue

*DISCLAIMER* Lesley does not like the following post. She maintains that it's too wordy and complicated. Considering the history of my wife's opinion on all things, she's probably right. Be that as it may, I remembered my love for her or my son does not require anyone's approval.

All of you, try to understand, I want my love to tear through Zachary's skin and attack his bones. Truly, much of what I post on this blog will likely someday cause embarrassment to my son that he will no doubt describe as, "Mortifying beyond comprehension". Maybe he'll even hate me for it...

You know what? Tough shit.

He should have seen my Dad in sweatpants.

Which reminds me; We are now accepting donations to Zachary's "Therapy Fund"
*************************************************

"Dadda"

Many years ago Zach, your Uncle Kris described to me an interesting branch of philosophy that denies the essential existence of things. They don't believe that the world existed first and that mankind went around naming everything second. Rather, they believe that the existence of a thing is bound up in language, that, for instance, a tree was called into Being by uttering the word "Tree". This is tough stuff to get your head around because there's a place where reason fails you and something else is required. But I know it's true Zachary. I know in my heart it's true.

Because you spoke me.

Do you understand, boy? Please understand this someday. I was a disparate collection of blurry fragments until you uttered me into the world. You spoke me. You said "Dadda" and called forth a Dad out of the teeming formless void. The word "Dad" blurred the myriad distinctions in the impermanent march of ceaseless change and instituted my emergence: a somebody, a Dad in service to his Son. You Dadded me. The who of who I am coheres in your world. I am the plaything of your speech.

The mouth of the Child gives birth to the Dad. You made me a man, little boy, with the sound of your newly emerging voice.

So this morning, today, Father's Day is not just about me. Its about you.

You are the boy with the magical golden tongue.