I was laughing at something today after listening to the kids. Technology, games, whatever other influences are making kids a little too grown up or at least a little too “in tune”. Example. Today the kids were talking about a video game in which they own a house. The 7 year old and the 16 year old were arguing about the portion of the mortgage they should each pay for the rooms they use in the house. They were talking about being foreclosed upon for god’s sake. Sam also plays a video game that allows him to build a car for optimized racing. He is often giving me advice on changing the torque ratio of the transmission and the performance ratings of turbo chargers. I guess it’s ok. They still have no idea what it is like to have a normal life. In their world dad and mom are home every day. I don’t know what they would think if I had to go to the office on a regular basis. Sam has never experienced any long term amount of time where I’m not a room away when he needs me. I guess we’ll see how that works out. Sorry, but some of these posts are just to serve as a diary of sorts on what is going on in our lives. It’s not very entertaining, but I saw that I started this blog at the end of 2008 and figured if it has been this long I had better keep things in perspective and make a note for posterity.
2012
2012. Wow. By now I have likely alienated anyone who came here to read my silliness over the years, but I’m hanging in there. My family and I have more adventures in us and I’m sure I will be further inspired to write about whatever goofiness I encounter.
Larry and Wilma are in Florida visiting for a couple of months. It’s going to be cool to have them nearby for a while. I have Sam convinced that Grandpa Larry has chocolate chip cookies around ALL the time. So far I have ben right.
Sara starts a new adventure in a few days, embarking on a non-traditional path of “learn a trade” first, school, maybe, second. Jen also is re-starting school in a week or so to prep for a nursing program that she has been accepted to in…….ST. LOUIS!. I’m going home. I can’t wait to take Sam to a Cardinals game and to visit Orion for some weekend adventures. I hope Jen and Sara like the Midwest and we can stay a while, otherwise we will be off on another “something”
Ok….this will serve as a 2012 kick off for the blog. I can’t promise additional consistency for the year. I’ve made that mistake before. Happy New Year. Keep checking in.
Driving Miss Sara
I have witnessed the joy of learning many times. Sam learning to walk. Sara learning another language. It all seemed kind of sweet and amusing. Today I was a part of “Sara learning to drive”. I am not here to give her a hard time. In fact she did a pretty good job. She made it to Taco Tuesday and around the neighborhood with only a couple of “moments". The curious part of this adventure was watching someone learn something in a totally new way. Example. It’s amusing and entertaining to watch a baby try to figure out what foot to put forward and then plop down on its butt. Everyone points and laughs, the baby giggles and flops around to try again. It is not amusing OR entertaining when the 16 year old can’t figure out what pedal to push, how hard and how close one might be to crashing thousands of dollars of metal and glass into one another. All of my previous teaching moments have only placed the learning person in peril. This was a whole new ball game. You take for granted that a 16 year old can determine when to turn the wheel to get the car from A to B. You can’t. The one I can’t figure out is how long or how the message gets lost from ear to foot. STOP!!! – It actually doesn’t work. You can say or yell stop 3-4-5 times and not get the desired result. I’m also still in awe of the human brain and how a person can think it might be ok to simply drive across a lane of traffic without even bothering to glance either way. Are all kids like this, or does my kid have no sense of self preservation? I guess we’ll find out. Stay tuned.
We Love Baseball
Sorry if you already know this story and are clicking old “WLL” because it’s a vital part of your day, but I have to write this for posterity. I’m getting old and might not remember the details.
September 13th, 2011. We buy plane tickets for St. Louis. Jen and I are going back to the “Lou” to scout out some possible places to live. That’s a whole other story. I think the Cardinals are about 5 games back in the Wild card race. As soon as I got confirmation of the flight I decided, on a whim, to see what baseball game was being played on that date. Game 6 of the World Series. Wouldn’t that be fun? I text my brother to get some tickets as a joke.
The next couple of weeks roll by and the Cardinals are rolling too. I could drag it out little by little, but I found myself in bed, hunched over the computer with Jen, pricing World Series tickets sometime early in the NLCS. We found them for $350’ish a piece. Too much. I told her to let it go and if it was meant to be then God would take care of it.
Game 1 of the World Series came and went and this was starting to become interesting. Jen was watching me get more and more antsy through Game 1 and once it wrapped up she turned her computer screen to me. 1 ticket for $150.00 – face value from the Cardinals web site. What? Really? She said “I’m buying it.” A couple of clicks and I had one lonely ticket. What kind of fun is that? 15 minutes later she said to me…”What was the Section/Row of that ticket we bought?” “Oh…here’s the one right next to it on StubHub.” Ok God…very funny. Trying to sneak into my world by using baseball as a backdoor. Of course at this point we are in for the “weirdly coincidental where the hell did that come from ticket”.
Back on planet earth we arrive in St. Louis as planned, but just as Larry was loading up his rain coat, winter coat and mittens, Game 6 gets postponed. Turns out the next day will be perfect weather, who knew?
I don’t have to tell you about the game. Click here if you really don’t know. Are you kidding me?
I got to spend an evening at one of the best World Series games ever….with my Dad. We high fived our way out of that stadium until I thought Larry’s arm would fall off. There. It is written.
Sorry Larry. I love you, but I love Jen for looking for tickets. I love Mom for taking the sting off of the “weirdly coincidental where the hell did that come from” ticket. I love baseball. God – whoever you are? Thanks for providing the once in a lifetime day with Larry.
“I like you Betty”
Today I have completed the translating and deciphering of what I like to call “The wave”. Runners and bike riders are likely best familiar with the wave. It’s that brief social period when you cross paths with another bike rider or runner. Each of you feel somewhat compelled to recognize the fact that you are existing in close proximity to one another…some people feel compelled NOT to recognize this interaction which has it’s own meaning. After years of these encounters and studying them in most of my spare time I have reduced them to only a few meanings. I’ve included pictures so agoraphobic people can know what I’m talking about also.
Let’s get the most disconcerting one out of the way. The “No reaction whatsoever”
This is the most awkward interaction there is. Likely you have tried to read the scenario and have prepared what you think is the best greeting for the occasion. I like to go with the simple finger flex. Since I’m riding my bike I can simply extend my fingers off of the handle into a half hearted “I see you, but I don’t know you” acknowledgement. If you get snubbed with the “NRW” it’s best to curse them under your breath and not turn and insist on a better greeting. I’ve learned this one first hand. This is why I can only offer the finger flex with my right hand.
I’ve determined that the reason people use this approach is three possibilities. One – They feel that they are athletically superior to you by comparing shoes or attire and cannot be bothered to interrupt their quest for Olympic fame to offer you the increased wind resistance of a wave. Two – They were contemplating their greeting and missed the window of opportunity. Sometimes you can catch them responding well after the fact in some sort of weird Doppler reaction. Three – They don’t give a shit.
The next greeting is probably worse than receiving nothing at all. The “Overzealous”.
I’ve only determined two possible reasons for the “OZ”. They are politicians or I seemed so compelling as I approached them that they chose the “OZ” in hopes that I will stop and became their friend. I’ve never stopped after receiving the “OZ” because I don’t want Rick Scott to get his hopes up that I’ll vote for him and anyone who needs friends bad enough to flag them down on the street is not someone I want to be friends with. Here is an example of the “OZ”
Here’s a version of my greeting.
The third greeting is the hardest of all. The “audible”. Football fans might recognize the term, but it has a completely different meaning here. The problem with the audible is that you have to have the proper response. Too often I’ve responded to “Watch out asshole” with a “Good morning”. This is another point at which you cannot turn around and undo your mistake. These are the ones I take note of and hope that I see them again. The problem with this is that I don’t have a very good memory for faces and have insulted more people in cases of mistaken identity. It has gotten to the point that I have to change my route about every 3 months as this is about how long it takes to form a posse.
The last greeting that I will recognize is the combo wave and audible. This is an extreme case of over zealousness and can only mean one thing. These people are cruising the roads for anonymous sex partners. Once again these are also likely to be politicians and you should never stop.
You might be camping…
After camping for these past long weeks I have come up with a twist on the saying used by Jeff Foxworthy and it is “You might be camping…”
You can add the obligatory words in front of or behind the next few statements, you’ll get the picture. I’ll get you started with the first one.
- If you have to walk 100 yards to your shower / toilet AND you have to wait in line to do either…you might be camping.
- If you stroll by your neighbors “house” and are jealous of how level it is…
- If you turn off the air conditioner so that you can run the water heater…
- If your neighbors change 3 different times in a week and you refer to the old ones as “Georgia Airstream with the shitty bikes”…
- If WiFi, cable TV and cell phone service seem like miracles…
- If someone screams “WATER!” if you let the water run for more than 3 seconds…
- If DUMP STATION is sooooo not changing the radio channel…
- If you get 9 mpg and are thrilled…
I’ve been mulling these over for days as you can tell by their hilarity…time to get back to civilization.
Keep going, plenty of room….
If you ever want to visualize the differences between men and women I suggest you do the following. Go down to your local boat ramp or RV park and wait for a husband and wife “team” to arrive. Find a good vantage point that you can hear them from and sit back and observe.
First thing you will notice is that the MAN has to drive the truck / car. There is no turning over machinery to the woman. Second thing you will notice is that the woman already knows where this is going and has a scowl on her face. Typically they will have already agreed upon some signals and words that will guide them to success. These words and signals will cease to work as soon as the activity is started. Usually the man will get frustrated first, make a rude remark, and exit the vehicle. This will start an argument over the signals and words and this will usually happen a couple of times before the man simply decides he can do it alone and backs the trailer / boat into a(n) (insert inanimate object here). A team of two guys can usually get the above task done through grunts and signals that are genetically common to other men. A team of two women can probably get the job done, but it usually takes longer because there will be men watching and giving advice. This tends to slow the women down, plus they have to waste gestures on the men watching.
You think I’m kidding…go set up your lawn chair for the ultimate people watching opportunity. Report back to me.
Spring forward…don’t fall back
Just a short update since I haven’t posted for a bit. Sara is hiding in some militant Swedish girls camp in an undisclosed location in Minnesota, so we took this opportunity to do some additional camping. I still have more thoughts on camping, hang in there.
I think I posted earlier that trying to find good swimming in Florida during the summer is a challenge. If I didn’t, this will about sum it up. Anything that holds water (including the Gulf of Mexico) turns into a boiling bucket of pee on or about June 15th. Everyone comes down here on vacation and thinks they are going to hang on the beach, well, they best stay on the beach. The water sucks. We decided to do something about it. We hooked up the trailer and headed to Wekiwa Springs State Park near Orlando. Why you ask? Well according to the literature the water is significantly better than the pee water described above. It didn’t take long to find out. I expected to have to hack a trail through the bush to get to said springs and much to my surprise it is very in keeping with its Orlando location…ripe for touristy pleasure. Here is a picture unless you clicked the link and got basically the same shot.
My first observation was that about 50% or more of the swimmers were huddled near the stairs. I figured, “Great…it’s swimming lesson day and all these idiots can’t swim”. I took one step down the stairs myself and found out why everyone was there. The water was freezing. Amazing. After tiptoeing around the stairs for a bit Jen, Sam and I decided that we had stumbled on the answer to the Florida bladder water that we found everywhere else. We had a blast. There was another group huddled around the spring head where you could dive down 20 or so feet into the clear spring water. I don’t know about diving into cavern like structures. I’ve seen too many Peter Benchley movies. We have been back a couple of times and find this state park to be clean, quiet, fun and best of all…5 minutes from Publix and a Redbox kiosk. More soon…
SPAM is a dumb name for really crappy e-mail
Rather than go another month or so without writing something I will just riff on some random thing. Sorry.
The random thing is my SPAM filter on my e-mail. I usually just go through it, empty it and move on. Today I decided to make sure I wasn’t missing some notice from Publisher’s Clearing House. I wasn’t. What I did find is that I think I am being targeted by some really crappy marketing people who don’t know their audience…
Clue number one that I might not be “the guy” for this e-mail subject: Black Guy Daily. I really hope they are finding the right people for whatever they are selling. I’d hate to see the look on their faces when all of us white guys show up for the “Black guy meeting” I’m not even sure what you would sell at the black guy meeting that you would specifically single them out for. Might as well call it a “Plain old guy” meeting and you get twice the audience.
The next e-mail rightfully planted in my SPAM box is this one – Subject: CristianMingle
This one I actually opened to get some ammo for this writing. Lo and behold it has a link for Christian Singles. I don’t click links. I guess that one will forever be a mystery. I really hope it goes to a legitimate site, but I’m guessing that the Christians all clicked like crazy on that one and have some explaining to do.
Last and not least…the e-mail I was waiting for…”You have just been selected…” Oh well I have to click this right? What? Another link? How bad could it be? I HAVE been selected. They wouldn’t do harm to the selected one would they? I mean it seems alright it did make it to a special folder in my own personal e-mail box. You aren’t still reading to see what happened when I clicked it are you? I don’t click links.
What color water?
Whitewater rafting. I had conjured up a lot of images in my mind pertaining to this event, but none of them matched the actual activity. I guess it’s probably best to list them off as I thought about them.
Fear: Sore muscles and exertion, as well as fear that I don’t have muscles or lung capacity for exertion.
Reality: I saw plenty of, let’s call them, “fans of food” lining up at the waiver table prior to the actual rafting. It turns out that most of the whitewater on this trip was contained to a bunch of short areas and that the rest of the trip was relatively leisurely floating. Don’t get me wrong, “a bunch” was a good many stretches of “better get paddling”, but it was just enough rest in between to get me excited for the next burst.
Fear: I would spend my entire time fishing Sam out of the river and scared to death of someone having to pull me out of the water.
Fact: If you paid attention to the instructions I eventually found that it would be tough to fall out and even if you did it seemed like they were pretty good at chasing people and rafts down.
Fear: One or all of us would not have fun or find it not enjoyable.
Fact: My family is a wide range of interests and abilities in so many things, but every one of us had a blast. Take a look at this picture…everyone is smiling.
Even our guide seems to be enjoying something.
Fear: The water would be freezing or the weather would be bad, and so on…
Fact: Our first raft trip went this way…We woke up at 6:30 am for an 8:30 am launch time. It was pouring rain and we knew from the locals that the creek temperature was 58 degrees. I think that 58 degrees is an agreed upon temperature that they all get together and decide to lie about. I can imagine this is done at a town hall meeting with voting and everything. I didn’t have a thermometer, but if I had to guess the water temp. was about 4 degrees. I know what you’re thinking, but this isn’t science class…it was 4 degrees. I have missing toes to prove it. Anyhow, by the time we got going the skies cleared and the weather was how you see it in the picture. Again…we had a blast. Here are a couple more pictures, but frankly, they all look the same.
We can’t figure out why Jen has her bored face on.
Where do monkeys go to drink?
This article is interesting. The basic premise is that kids are growing up to big old wimps because their playgrounds are too safe. This made me think of my playground on the school grounds of good old C.R. Hanna grade school. I think about it and I can’t really believe I’m not crippled. I also remember it from the perspective of a 3rd or 4th grader. The slide was about 30 feet tall and super fast. The monkey bars were not big but they presented a unique challenge. If you couldn’t walk up them and over them without using your hands…you were a major loser…and this was scary as hell. I know because last time I was in Orion I went over there and tried to do it. Let’s see if I can find a couple of pictures to represent.
Oh, here’s the link to the article… Are playgrounds too safe?
This is def. the slide…
Here is as close to the monkey bars as I could find. The bars of my youth were much bigger and if you got yourself perched up on top, well then you ruled…until someone knocked you off.
For any of you Orion people you will recognize these monkey bars…maybe.
and lastly…if you fell off the monkey bars? You fell hard and into the dirt, not some shredded up rubber, soft on your bones crap. Do a google search for “old playgrounds images” and it’s pretty interesting.