The Budget of Paradox

Sophia,
Back in April, I wrote this page about summer camp. Yeah, I know, it was already pretty late in the season at that point. Even if you wanted to go to Green Cove, it might have been too late.

Next summer, you’ll be 15 and maybe you won’t care about summer camps anymore. But, I just looked: Green Cove has programs for girls up to age 17. The summer of 2024 probably seems like a million miles away. But it’s never too early to plan something big.

Anyway, give it some thought. Please go re-read the page I made in April.

I’m trying to do what I can to contribute to your success. I wish I could do so much more. When your mother and I first started our family, I envisioned that my kids would speak at least one language other than English. I don’t mean 45-minute classes in school. I mean, REALLY speak it, fluently. I envisioned that my kids would be able to skip at least one grade in math. When I had to leave for Iraq, I was already in the process of getting Morey’s Second Grade math book from her future teachers. I was going teach her Second Grade math while she was still in First Grade, and try to eventually get her to skip a grade, at least in math.

That was the plan, anyway. I enjoy tutoring math. Anyway, sorry, I’m getting off-track. I’m just thinking about all the dreams I had once, now abandoned. I wanted very badly to have a positive influence on your life. I still want it. But there’s very little I can do from here.

Next summer, if you can’t get a passport to visit me, you might as well do something extraordinary. I have some faith that Green Cove is a great camp if you want to try it. You need to learn to be on your own. Your mother wants you to be safe. I want you to be strong. Anyone can be safe if they never leave home and never get out of bed. I want you to contend with the world and learn how to handle it.

Talk to me, Goose.

Dad

My dear Sophia,
One thing I miss about the USA is the long drives in the desert. Sure, there are long highways in the deserts of the UAE. But it’s not the same. Plus, there are so many places I wish I could show you: places I discovered when I was young man.

Interstate 10: the Christopher Columbus Transcontinental Highway

Of all the freeways in the American interstate highway system, Interstate 10 holds a special place in my heart. It crosses the USA, from the Atlantic Ocean in Florida to the Pacific Ocean in California. There’s something symbolic about those terminals. Few other highways can make that claim. I drove it completely a few times when I was young. It’s a long, tough road. Interstate 10 was always exciting; it always meant “going somewhere”. For example, when I was in college in Arizona, I took Interstate 10 to get to Santa Barbara, California when I was dating my first wife. The city of Blythe is on Interstate 10; it’s where we found Blythe the Dog. She died before you were born, but Morey remembers her. She was a stray at a gas station in Blythe.

Here’s some trivia that most people in the east don’t know: Interstate 10 is also known as the Christopher Columbus Transcontinental Highway. But the only signs you’ll ever see with that name are in California. I always liked that name.

Interstate 10 in the desert near Blythe

When I was kid, Columbus was a hero. Of course, today, as I understand, kids in school are taught that he was an evil racist colonizer. Whatever. I mean, that was 500 years ago. I still like the name of Interstate 10.

I’d love to go on a Great American Road Trip with you someday. Hit the 10, the open road, cruising through the Sonoran Desert and Coachella Valley, the snow-capped mountains in the distance, the green fields of Palm Springs. They say the journey is half the trip. I say it’s the whole enchilada. I’ll even let you pick out the music.

I miss you, kid. I think about these things all the time.

Sophia,

I wish I knew what inspires you. I hope something inspires you. Math, music, art, swimming, or whatever. Something more than TikTok and rolling your eyes at your mother.

What about graphic design? When I was younger, I had a lot of interest in it. I never took a class, and, truth be told, I was probably never good at it. But I was definitely inspired. Technology has certainly changed graphic design since I was a kid. But I really believe some people are born with a certain ‘sense’ for it.

Have you ever opened up Microsoft Word, or some other application that allows typing, and played with the font? I’m talking about the typeface, the way the letters look and feel. The fonts all have names; the more common fonts are Times New Roman, Helvetica, Arial. I always liked Garamond. There are actually hundreds of fonts, maybe thousands.

But it’s more than selecting the right font. For me, graphic design was about creating a whole new message, usually using fonts and typography, but always with a focus on a visual experience for the user.

some Emigre fonts

When I was in college, in the early 1990s, there was a magazine called Emigre. My friend Dennis tuned me on to it when we both lived in Prescott, Arizona. I remember being thrilled by the content. I thought I was clever, but wow, they focused on young, hip graphic designers who were unafraid of taking risks and making bold statements. They blew me away. It really opened my eyes.

“Culprits” (each magazine edition had its own name; Culprits was the fall 1992 printing. Read it here) came with two new typefonts: Remedy and Keedy Sans. Most printings came with at least a few new fonts free for download. We had internet back then, but it was very slow and primitive. You couldn’t just Google whatever you wanted. Being able to download something like a new typeface was amazing. Even the advertisements were amazing. The Dictatorship of Helvetica!

the Culprits edition of Emigre

I have a cousin who was really good at graphic design. Her name is Mazana. I’m sorry you probably won’t ever meet her. A very cool woman. She grew up next to Tommy Hilfiger. Not a clothing store, but Thomas J. Hilfiger himself, the founder of the store. They were neighbors; no kidding. Believe it or not, Mazana has a son named Zander, and he was born about a week before you were born. You’re both named after Johann Zander, our distant relative who first came to America from Germany in the 1800s.

Zander would be your second cousin. A first cousin is when you have the same grandmother. A second cousin is when you have the same great-grandmother, and so on. I am embarrassed to admit I was an adult before I learned this. You and Zander are both great-grandchildren of Evelyn Bruggeman, who was my mother’s mother. Just a little family trivia.

Anyway, if you ever become a graphic designer, maybe someday seek out your cousin Mazana Bruggeman. Technically, you’re first cousins, once removed.