Didsburydad's Blog

From the not so mean streets of M20, blog about being a dad, Didsbury and dealing with parental confusion

Archive for the tag “Jabba the Hut”

New Beginnings, Old Goodbyes and The Northern Quarter

It’s been a time for new starts and changes in Didsbury Dad Towers. The end of the football season always marks that period when Didsbury Brother phones me and we wonder how we will get through the 8/9 weekends coming up with no constant football interference to fill the space and act as punctuation.

Headlining this week is Dora the Explorer…

The Mighty Headed Boy and Pearly Princess are saying goodbye to nappies. It’s been a week measured in gaps between potty visits and frequent visits to Co-Op for more kitchen towel. Like all these rites of passage, the reality positively outwits the dread and it’s been constant but weirdly satisfying. The realisation that intent, action and vocalisation have a fluid running order you need to shape carefully is an uplifting thought.
The new all you can eat buffet. These are the new currency.

Didsbury Wife has been a blur of action this week – without realising it, the boddlers have been changed forever with only stickers and Cadbury Chocolate Buttons as props and the floor has been cleaned so often we also realised we could never be bothered being OCD. 

Oasis at Maine Road, The Roses at The Hacienda, Catatonia at The Roadhouse, Chris Blackwood in Didsbury Park.

Didsbury Son waved goodbye to being sized by age to width/height. We went to town to cruise the Northern Quarter for clothes and art. He is a big fan of Manga so we visited Forbidden Planet. If you ever want to feel better about yourself, understand your peccadillos are fine go here. Watching hipsters and geeks salivate over Jabba the Hut and argue about fonts made me realise that I’m okay. I peaked at Carrie Fisher in the 2nd Star Wars several decades ago. I was looking for the sign behind the till that reads “you don’t have to speak Klingon to work here but it helps.”
I love mooching about the Northern Quarter. In pre Didsbury Dad says it was my domain. I worked and played here for a decade and enjoyed being part of the city’s fabric as we moved from Madchester to post-bomb tourist attraction and cultural hub. As the new Home theatre/gallery/cinema sits in the shadow of the Hacienda’s descendants so this weekend a venue I shaped a generation ago says goodbye and another piece of my personal history becomes memory and memorabilia. 
Measuring the development of my family in their milestones and this latest part of my life just adds another layer of experience – one that moves the day from the nighttime economy and being out to being home more with people for whom each day is a new world and a big idea is building a space ship out of cushions. 

Mannequin Skywalker and Princess Layla v Didsbury Dad

Didsbury Son is having a love-in with all things Star Wars and is bringing me along for every elaborate twist, betrayal, and plot device.

I have been castigated for asking whether Garth Maul was the goat with the floppy ears and tutted at like the class dunce for musing on Jabba The Hut’s unresolved issues.

The first one is the 4th. When they did strike down Mikel John Obi it didn’t make him more powerful, it unleashed Liam Neeson and Ewan McGregor and The Clone Wars makes The Banana Splits seen like a linear narrative.

On the upside, Didsbury Son spent 5 silent hours on Christmas Day making something so complicated out of Lego Star Wars it had its own licence plate. This, with Didsbury Wife playing with Darcy Bussell meant I could slope off to eat turkey, read trivia and lie somewhere quiet navel gazing and shallow breathing from over-indulgence.

I know I have to engage and learn about the world of Star Wars. I sidestepped Harry Potter and his cronies finding it all a bit Alderly Edge. I have managed to keep us busy when Dr Who was onscreen and X Factor has not really caught on in our house. But. This seems like the real thing for Didsbury Son and it is my duty as a 21st Century dad to actively enrol in his new love. To embrace its passion until its inevitable demise sometime in the spring.

The shame being that I had only just worked out the difference between a grass and a water Pokemon. I am so last year.

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