Masters of Gilligan

Human Nature

As a dad, one thing I'm dreading is the day that some smart-ass kid plants a seed of doubt about Santa in Adam or Kate's mind.

Oh, it's inevitable, I suppose.  Adam, in particular, is pretty logical, so he may just figure it out himself before too long.  Either way, I don't look forward at all to the day when that little bit of childhood magic gets taken away from them forever.

I was reminded of that dread while driving home and hearing of the death of Michael Jackson.

Let me take you back a few years, to the early '90's.  With a freshly-minted advanced degree in communications in hand, and a decision made to stay in a town where said degree was all but useless, I flailed about for a bit trying to find some ways to at least PRETEND to be putting my training to use.

One of the things I came up with was dj'ing weddings and parties.

Yeah, cheesy, but the cash wasn't bad, and it was fun.  For a while, anyway -- then it got to be a drag, but that's another story.

I got a booking for a weekday afternoon gig at an elementary school in Bloomfield.  I was a little apprehensive about the gig for a couple of reasons -- not the least of which was that kids always want the very latest music, and I wasn't particularly well-stocked in the then-current Top 40.  To put it more bluntly, this was an "urban" school (or even more bluntly, a school with primarily African-American kids) and I didn't have a whole lot of rap.

I needn't have worried -- the kids brought their own music.  I was there basically to provide the amp and speakers, which suited me fine.  The kids gathered around me, handed me their tapes (all of which they promised had "no swears" -- a guarantee which I'd say was accurate in about 50% of the cases) and I'd pop them in, let them play, and repeat the process.  As is always the case, the more gregarious kids got to hear a lot more of their music.

One tiny little kid caught my eye, though.  He kept coming up towards me, then either walking away or getting shoved aside by the bigger, rowdier kids.  Finally, he screwed up the courage to approach me, and make his request.

"Can you please play some Michael Jackson?"

The other kids nearby hooted and hollered and did everything they could to keep me from playing MJ.  The first Bone Thugs album had just come out, and they wanted that and pretty much nothing else.  (I later figured out that the "Explicit Lyrics" sticker had been carefully scratched off of the tape they kept shoving at me.)

This little kid was so polite, and so clearly taken with Michael Jackson, I couldn't help myself -- I put on "Thriller" and then "Bad."  The other kids called me pretty much every name in the book, but my friend was happy as could be, and I figured if he didn't mind the derision he was getting, why should I?

Anyway, that little kid was the first thing I thought of when I heard of MJ's death.  He'd be in his late teens by now, and probably long over his Michael Jackson affectation -- but maybe not. 

I've thought of that kid every time MJ hit the news for some horrific new allegation, and how hearing the news of his hero's failings and personal demons must've hit him like the inevitable Santa revelation will for my kids -- only in this case, it's as if Santa himself had pulled the rug out, as Jackson did so many times to his faithful.

It's Official

I am no longer a part of the '30-something' club.  I don't have a problem turning the big 4-0; it's just a number (although I might need reminded of that fact ten years from now). 

One benefit is that turning 40 gave me an excuse to have a party, not that I really needan excuse, but it helps to have a reason so your friends will show up.  So we planned a party and most of our friends showed up.  We had it at a local bar that has a beach theme, so we all sat around the fire pit with white sand between our toes, palm trees swaying in the wind and a waterfall nearby all night long.  It was a fantastic time, although I am convinced that there was little to no rum in the daiquiris because I drank about 4 of the them without any side effects whatsoever.  None. Nada. Zilch.

So my hubby and my friends made the transition into my 40's as painless as possible.  Secretly 97% of them are all glad that I am finally joining them in this not-so-exclusive club.  The other 3% haven't turned 40 yet so they probably feel sorry for me.

For this momentous occasion, Bob bought me a gift that I would never have bought for myself even though I really, really wanted to.  Now I am not a NASCAR fan, or even a racing fan in general.  I just like to drive fast.  So on August 10th, yours truly will be learning to drive a race car at Richard Petty's Driving Experience.  They are going to show me how to drive the car safely and then are going to let me loose for 8 laps around the track.   Of course I'll have to reintroduce myself to driving a manual transmission, but that should be like riding a bike.  AWESOME.

Hodge Podge

Adam had his end of Kindergarten program yesterday afternoon.  At least they were not calling it graduation.  You graduate from high school and college, not from kindergarten.  In his "what I want to be when I grow up" picture he drew for the program, he apparently wants to be a hockey player.  As do several of the other boys in the class.  My guess is that if it had been Super B0wl time he would want to be a football player.  The other day he told us that he wanted to learn Chinese.   So maybe one day we'll have a chinese speaking, hockey playing son. 

When I first heard about the mysterious disappearance of Air France flight 447, the first thing that popped into my head was that they were all on a mysterious island that had a smoke monster, hostiles and weird pods with names like The Swan.  Sad, but completely and embarrassingly true.

Why can't they make the voice recorder and data box out of a material that would allow them to float if a plane goes down in water?  Scientists at the Materials Research Society I am looking in your general direction.

Sometimes I wish I had a phone that had a camera on it.  If I did I could have taken a photo of the armored vehicle that was in front of me along Allegheny River Blvd this morning that had the two locks on its back door open.  Yes that's right, the two locks on the back door were open.  Clear as day.

A big tip of the hat to the Pittsburgh Penguins who pulled off an amazing win in game 6 of the Stanley Cup Finals.  If they play that was in Detroit on Friday night, we might have another championship team here in Pittsburgh.  Take note management of the Pirates, we could have the trifecta of sports if you got your act together and actually started to care whether you had a winning team instead of just caring about the profits. 

The British magazine The Economist declared Pittsburgh the most livable city in the United States and 29th worldwide.  So we have that going for us, which is nice.  We also have the G20 summit coming in September.  It is our city's time to shine in the world spotlight.  Let's not screw it up.  Mayor Lukeand Dan Onarato I am looking in your general direction.

Happy 6th Birthday to the A-Man

Hard to believe it's been 6 years.  Let's take a look back at the past 5 birthdays, shall we?

May 28, 2003
 

May 28, 2004 (ok, off by a few weeks -- close enough)
 

May 28, 2005
 

May 28, 2006
 

May 28, 2007
 

May 28, 2008

And a couple of recent shots -- apologies to those of you who've already seen these on Facebook...

 
 

Tid Bits

 - No doubt that the Pittsburgh Penguins had a great game last night, but they were lucky that the Washington Capitals forgot to bring their A game.  Game 7 of the playoffs is not really the time to have a complete meltdown, but it worked out great for us, so who cares.

 - In the category of "they grow up so fast"....

(a)   The other morning I got up for work and when I went into the main bathroom I saw that Kate's pj bottoms were on the floor along with her underwear.  I figured that Bob got up with her due to an accident in the middle of the night.  Not the case.  When Kate work up after I had left for work, she told my mum the story of how she thought she had an accident, got up and went into the bathroom where she took off her pj bottoms, went to the potty, went back into her room to get new pj bottoms and climbed back into bed and fell back asleep.  And to quote Kate "And I didn't wake Mommy or Daddy up at all".  I am amazed that she did this by herself without calling out to one of us but then I recall the few times that Bob has found her sitting in the hallway by herself around 4:00am and asking him what he was doing up.

(b)  The kids has just been put into their beds when Kate, as usual, starting singing and talking to herself. Adam called out across the hallway "Kate could I just have one night without your singing?".  In a completely unrelated issue, I was heard earlier in the day asking the kids if I "could have just one day without you two fighting". 

 - With all the news about how everyone should spend money to help jump start the economy I figured I would go out to get new additions to my spring wardrobe.  Sadly, I came home empty handed.  I have apparently exceeded the age range for most of the stores at Ross Park Mall, and even on the things that I might have considered buying, the quality was lacking.  I am not going to spend $50 on a t-shirt that looks as if it is going to fall apart after the first wash.  Plus although I have casual dress at work, most of the items on the racks are way too casual for work.  Hopefully a clothing chain will realize that there is a market for people in my age range with some money to spend. 

Get 'em, Girls!

RIP Dom DeLuise.  You were funny, and you made it safe for men to wear muumuus -- and for that we salute you.

Click the image to view some of Dom's finest work....

Carnal Knowledge

Adam has hit a bunch of landmark moments lately.

First bike-ride sans training wheels.  First book read.  First t-ball practice.  First profanity.

And not just ANY profanity.  The big one.  The f-bomb.  The f-dash-dash word.  The mother of all swears. 

And we're not talking "fart" here, although he did slip that one in a few weeks ago.  In fact, we thought the big one was coming when he announced "I know what the f-word is" to us at the dinner table.  Turns out, in kindergarten the f-word is "fart," and it's used liberally and to great effect.

Last Saturday, Julie and Kate went a seperate way from Adam and I.  The two of us boys went about our business, then ended up at the playground behind his school.  Apparently, someone had forgotten to put the playground chalk away after recess, because in addition to the usual "Katelyn and Olivia = BFF"-style graffiti, the middle of the playground was now sporting a large and apparently visually appealing instance of the f-bomb.

I tried to hustle the boy past it as we made our way towards the slides, but apparently those four giant letters were too much to resist.  He stopped in his tracks, and turned around to see what had been written.

Now up until this point I've been pretty proud of the boy's ability to sound out unfamiliar words.  He's pretty good at it, and up until now that's been a good thing.

I suppose I could've just moved him along, but I've always been of the opinion that if you don't react like the sky is falling when they're used, those words quickly lose their appeal.

So I stood there as Adam slowly sounded it out.

Ffff.....uhhhhhh......k.

Followed closely by "Daddy?  What does 'f**k' mean."

Now you'd think that given my above statement about taking the mystery out of such words that I would've given him a watered-down definition, along with an admonition not to use such words -- but in a classic moment of inconsistent parenting I sidestepped the issue in about as clunky a manner as possible.

"Umm -- that must be somebody's initials."

Thankfully, he didn't ask me WHOSE initials, sparing me from having to fabricate the personage of one Francis Umberto Charles Kennedy, who clearly needs to be more careful in where he writes his initials.

I'm Just Sayin'

Let me start with this disclaimer: I've always known that I would never be a stay-at-home mom.  I just don't have the patience for it, plus I like to work.  My mother would say that I don't have the patience for anything but that is a different entry.

With Bob and I both working there are some times when our schedules can get hectic, such as coordinating us leaving work to pick up of the kids and getting to t-ball practice by 5:30 on Mondays.  It's hectic and I don't necessarily agree that practice should be at 5:30 on a weekday but I understand why they do it and that is so all of the teams from t-ball to higher levels of baseball teams can practice on the limited number of available fields.  I get that, but what I don't get is that in a world where more and more families have two working parents, the people who could make things a bit easier don't use their common sense to do so. 

Case in point.  Adam brought home a flyer which stated that discount tickets for the school's picnic at Kennywood (our local amusement park) were going on sale at Adam's school.  At 10:00 am.  On a Friday.  Not going to work for those that work but there was no alternative purchase method for those who couldn't make it at 10:00 on Friday.  Since the discounted tickets would save us $56 on four, I decided that it was worth asking about alternatives at the school office.  After dropping Adam off at the before-school care, I stopped in the office to see if someone could tell me who was coordinating the sale.  Let's just say that the encounter left me wondering who is running our school and what has happened to plain old common sense. 

The office admin and the principal were in the office.  I asked if there was an alternative to purchasing the tickets at 10:00 that day.  The principal indicated that I could have dropped off the money with them for the tix.  Unfortunately I did not have $80 cash with me and they would not accept checks.  It would have been nice if that had been mentioned in the original flyer, guess I should have used my Magic 8 Ball for the answer.  She then stated that they were also on sale at the middle school which is across the street the following week (which included the newly invented April 31st). I said that I saw that on the flyer but that there was no time listed so I had to assume that it was also 10:00 on a weekday.  At this point I am waiting for the light bulb to go off in one of their heads, at least the principal's head since she is a working mother herself.  But alas there was no lighting of bulbs and no recognition of the inherent issue at hand - 10:00 on a weekday just doesn't cut it for working parents.  They kept telling me that I could go to the middle school to buy them and at one point the principal announced that the office probably closed around 4:00.  Well a hell of a lot of good that does me.   I am not asking the schools to completely rearrange the way (I assume) they've always sold Kennywood tickets. I would just like them to use some common sense and realize that not everyone has the ability to show up between 10a-4p to get tickets, provide a reasonable alternative and announce that alternative in the flyer.  So after getting no where with these ladies and feeling myself getting more and more frustrated I left before I let my inner bitch seep into the conversation.  Now that I reflect back in it, I wonder if it was a lack of common sense or the fact that they just didn't care.  I am guessing around a 40%-60% split.  

All is not lost and Adam will get to go to the school picnic on Saturday since I am getting the tickets via a neighbor who was nice enough to agree to buy them for me.

[[BTW, I am no longer going to refer to myself as being "bitchy"; from here on in, I will be "saucy".  It has a more pleasant ring to it.]]

Kate's 4th Birthday

Some scenes from Kate's small birthday get-together.  Click any image to embiggen.

 
I like the one above primarily because it's one of the few that we've taken that show Adam's unique eye-coloring.

 

 

 

 

 

Every Rose Has Its Thorn

 
 

Yeah, because when I think of eco-friendly activities, using up a lot of water and dumping a ton of fertilizer on the ground in order to grow prize-winning roses is the first thing that comes to mind.

Or is Mary re-creating the Raymond Burr role from Rear Window?  Has anybody seen Ted the Grifter lately?