Day 480: Sirbot Says Bane

Firstly, last night's blog was a tad too long for my liking.

I blame this solely on the fact that in doing these entries daily I rarely now take the time to sit and edit them much. It's more of a wham bam thank you ma'am, throw the paint on the canvass, mop it around a bit, whatever comes out comes out, and Bob's your Uncle its time to pack it all in and go to bed.

I think I still manage to do a fairly literate job of holding it all together in some kind of a cohesive story, or through-line, but no doubt time to time I fall a tad short of my intended mark. And for that, to my readers, I half-heartedly apologize. Truly. 

So shorter then, perhaps, for a while. With more time spent making sure we don't get off on tangents that aren't necessary, in the same way one wouldn't want to memorize and relate every single detail of their day to the people around them, for fear of eventually being beaten to death..., so to when others are reading of your life -and quite consistently I've noticed, for some of you- they don't need to have you indulge every single tickled-fancy that flutters through your mind within the time you are concocting that specific entry. 

So too long! I'm judging, of myself. A fault I will attempt to rectify in every way possible in the coming days and weeks and months and years... and dear god have you already lost interest, because I almost have!

I think the reason it hit me was because Jeannette forced me to read last night's entry to her mother tonight and.. I don't know,. it just felt too long! She thought it was funny and all that -though the remark about her boobs ... well she's never seen me do standup, Jeannette's mother, so she might not be quite used to that 'sharing' side of me.. ahem,, anyway, it's always good to change things up and hear your own voice bouncing off the reactions of another just to pick up any subtleties that you may be overlooking with regard to the work you are producing; confident as you might be, in the fact that it sounds good to me.

Then let's get to the point of the entry today already! and not linger too long, boring all the people I've only just promised not to over do it with! 

Sirbot the singularity thinks I'm having another boy. 

Let me explain.

Yesterday I told you how Jeannette now believes she is having a girl based on her mothers theory that women are more selfish when pregnant with girls, and more giving when carrying boys. Given the fact Jeannette has been an absolute wolverine with her food of late -I've nearly lost a few fingers myself- the current belief is that "Nature" is telling us we're having a girl. Shit, we may as well even call it "Mother Nature" due to the fact word has come to us through the vessel of Jeannette's mother, who is the mother of the woman who is the mother of my son... AND ... ALSO...the one who gave us the news.  

Well tonight the cold, hard, calculating personality of science stepped in to stake a claim in the baby\sex\divining\bonanza we've got going here. In keeping with the theme we'll go ahead and call him the Lightning God then, ... to keep this interesting. So the Lightning God, Mother Nature's fickle shit of a husband, using the Siri as his avatar through which to speak to us (or whatever the Google version of Siri is.. as I have a Samsung.. crap... you know who I mean.., the little green robot guy.. what's his name? \

Doesn't matter. Sirbot the Singularity will suffice for now, a fusion of the two; Sirbot for short.

I received a text from Jeannette tonight while out on my walk asking me when I was going to get home because she wanted to give her sister the gift we'd gotten her, a small gesture for letting us stay here and being such a great host. Jeannette was stuck in bed with Blaze while texting me, you see, whom had only just fallen asleep; high as a kite as he was from exposure to his Sitto (grandma) all night... honestly, it's like watching Tony Montana after inhaling a mound full of cocaine, this kid, after he's around her. Anyway, I wrote her back telling her I'd be a while but that when she really wanted to give it to her, text me and I'll go back inside. 

By then she'd already given it to her.

I then wrote: "no worries babe, It's fine." HOWEVER, instead of writing babe -which I had CLEARLY written with my very own thumbs!.. Sirbot instead wrote: Bane, which I think you would agree is a far less frequently used word than BABE, unless the days are getting dark indeed! 

Now... currently... as it stands... as I write these letters on this dusty macbook keyboard in a kitchen in Lamouges (which I've probably misspelled again, though I now know it's in Ontario) the name of the baby we're about to have, if Mother Nature is correct and it ends up being a girl, is Mackinley (TBD) MacDonald... no, not Malone.. try and keep up. 

If it's a boy however, the chosen name is: Sawyer "Bane" MacDonald.
I shit you not. 
And like Blaze, he too will go by his second name: "Bane". 

A brief background, if I may. 

This was another one of Jeannette's sudden and blurted name ideas, that came out in the same fashion as when she suddenly grabbed me in bed back in Vancouver, while shooting Package Deal, and yelled "BLAZE!" in my face.
To which I replied, "Huh?"
Then she said, "For the name of the baby if it's a boy... BLAZE!"
Then I said, "As in Blaise Pascal? The philosopher?"
To which she cocked her head and said, "Who??"

After some thought we eventually settled on the name she first shouted out that night. 

And so while Bane hasn't fully settled with me yet, I must confess, I am confident in Jeannette's naming abilities and quite certain that just as with Blaze, when people hear the name Bane and meet the kid she's cooked up who's attached to it, they'll immediately get the vibe of what's happening over there on the North Mountain and be cool with it.

Blaze is most certainly a Blaze, you see it when you meet him, and no doubt Bane too will also fit his name... and be able to climb out of impossibly deep holes filled with the most hardened of criminals, stranded out in the middle of the desert within the most ferocious and terrible of Middle Eastern prisons... and also have a thing on his face so he can handle the pain of ..breathing?? .. well, it all falls apart right around there doesn't it?? 

So the mindless robot mind that now permeates the atmosphere of this earth and corrects what we type to each other on our little doohickies thinks we're having a boy and that the boy shall be called Bane!!! Or mother nature is right and will deliver us a girl and she'll be called Little Mac, as my father was referred to as Big Mac, and I won't have to worry about raising the future Luke Skywalker who will eventually have to go out and defeat some dark evil robot monster that's taken over the Earth... this is the entry that was to be less self-indulgent???

For shame..:(