Daddy Needs Decaf

A Letter to George Lucas

2012-02-14T07:00:00.005-05:00

My 10-year old is a Star Wars fanatic.

I admit that I enjoyed the movie growing up. I don’t remember when I first saw Star Wars. However, I do remember owning a cassette with a truncated version of the movie on it that I listened to often. I remember waiting in line a couple of hours for tickets to see Return of the Jedi. (I came from a small town. There weren’t that many people who could stand in line at the theater, which is why it was only two hours.)

My son, though, is nuts for it. He especially likes the bad guys. His Sith Master is my cousin, Kevin, who lives in Oregon. At a Super Bowl party a few years ago, Kevin nicknamed him Darth Garbage. He recently promoted him to Darth Recycle Bin. One day, if my son is lucky, he will earn the nickname Darth Trash Compactor.

Last Friday, with Star Wars I in 3-D opening in the theaters, we chose to watch it at home. Despite having seen the movie many times, he still hung on every word.

One of his fondest hopes is that George Lucas will produce more Star Wars movies, but has long contented himself with six. However, sometime this weekend, I mentioned to him that George Lucas had the idea for three more movies, Episodes VII-IX, to take place after Return of the Jedi.

He couldn’t believe it and asked what George Lucas was waiting for.

Honestly, I read this somewhere once long ago so I don’t remember where I saw it. But I told him that George Lucas got fed up with negative comments he heard about the storyline in Episodes I-III and decided he didn’t need to make any more movies.

The news devastated my son. He decided to take matters into his own hands.

He’s writing a letter to George Lucas, begging him to reconsider his decision. He wrote one letter and then decided it wasn’t good enough. He then tried again, writing a longer one. He’s still adding reasons even today. He plans to spend about a week editing, and then he’ll send it. He asked me to look it up his address on-line. I did and gave it to him.

I asked my son if I could see his letter. He refused, saying it was only meant for George Lucas. I did warn him that it was likely an assistant of Mr. Lucas’s would read the letter as Mr. Lucas gets lots of fan mail.

My son believes his letter will get through. He believes his George Lucas letter will change Mr. Lucas's mind after he reads it.

No, my son does not believe in the force.

However, he does believe that Star Wars is the greatest movie ever.

Hopefully, that will be enough.

Note: Poster above from http://www.allposters.com/.

Very Special Note: Since my wife usually reads my blog posts, I wanted to say Happy Valentine's day, Honey. I love you very much!

Shakespeare's Turn

2012-02-07T07:00:00.003-05:00

"Dad, the words are misspelled."

I thought about it for second, as I considered what my teenage son was reading. "No, they're fine. That's just the way those words were spelled in Shakespeare's day. I know the grammar seems odd, too, but that's the way people talked back then."

My son nodded and went back to reading Romeo and Juliet. We'd gone over a few things about the story already. I’d explained to him who the Montagues and the Capulets were. I also explained that biting your thumb at someone back then was the Shakespearean equivalent of flipping someone the bird. He tried to pronounce things as best he could. I told him not to worry about it. I don’t think I could have pronounced the words much better than he did. Still, I was amazed. My teenage son was reading Shakespeare and it wasn't even for school.

So why the interest in the Bard from an eighth grader?

Well, my son loves theater and movies. Last semester, he saw part of West Side Story in one of his classes. Wanting to know how it ended, he used some of his Christmas money to buy it on blu-ray. He could get into the battle between the Jets and the Sharks, though he had to put up with his dad saying stupid things like "The actress who plays Maria is the little girl from the old Miracle on 34th Street movie."

But the one piece of information that was of interest to him is that West Side Story was based on the Romeo and Juliet. I explained how the characters in West Side Story matched up to Romeo and Juliet. He asked if I had a copy and I pulled it from the shelves.

He read a few pages and struggled with the words and grammar. He read it out loud and I tried to help. He said he wanted to keep reading but wanted to finish his latest Twilight novel first. I let him put the book away so he could find it easily.

Still, I was amazed we were even having the discussion.

The reason is that my son has a learning disability. He's really good in math and science but has had trouble with reading and grammar all his life, an acute problem for a kid interested in theater. I remember what it was like for me to read Shakespeare when I was his age. It was entertaining. It wasn’t easy. However, I know my struggles were small compared to problems that he will face.

May his joy be that much greater.

When Family Calls

2012-01-31T07:00:00.003-05:00

I hesitate to look in my spam folder, but it’s necessary at times. Though the folder contains a number of ads that make me either laugh or cringe, about once a day I find something that was inadvertently placed there instead of in my inbox.

On Sunday evening, I found an e-mail with my grandmother’s name in the subject heading. I didn’t know the sender, usually a red flag, but seeing my grandmother’s name intrigued me enough to make me review it.

The writer of the note, a woman from Michigan, identified herself as a niece of my grandmother and sought any information I might have on her. Per the note, I learned that my grandmother went to Michigan during WWII to live with an older brother’s family while my grandfather was serving in Europe with the Army Corps of Engineers. Given the timing, my dad and one of my aunts, the first two of my grandmother’s nine kids, would have been in Michigan with my grandmother. I’ve never heard my dad mention living in Michigan but realize he was likely too young to remember much at that time.

My grandmother still lives in the Atlanta area with another one of my aunts and my aunt’s husband. I called that aunt Sunday evening to let her and my grandmother know. My grandmother remembered the woman. I forwarded the e-mail to my aunt. She will contact the lady, her first cousin, directly.

The interesting thing about all of this was that the lady who wrote me had not seen my seen my grandmother since the 40s.

So why now?

My grandmother, a spry woman in her nineties, is the ninth child of eleven kids. However, most of her siblings have passed and she had lost contact with the one still alive, or so she thought. The e-mail brought the unhappy news that her remaining brother had also long passed. The lady in Michigan had been searching for months to reconnect.

I’m still a little amazed by the e-mail. A few years ago, finding my less-than-Internet savvy grandmother would have been nearly impossible. I’m guessing the lady found me as I share a name with my grandfather. Without the Internet, I doubt she would have found me.

I’m glad she did. I hope she has a chance to reconnect with my grandmother. It turns out that one of my grandmother’s best friends from childhood is also still alive.

It’s been seventy years since they saw each other.

That’s an awfully long time to go without seeing friends and family.

Movie Night

2012-01-24T07:00:00.000-05:00

“C’mon, Dad. It’s movie night.”

My ten-year old son pulled at my arm, his pleas sounding more and more urgent. Movie night was a family event. He wanted to get it started.

My family and I like to watch movies. We go once a month to the theater. We also own a number of videos and DVDs and occasionally rent directly from our cable company.

However, the movie quotient in our house has been upped of late. Last year, my older son, having saved his money for something he really wanted, bought a blu-ray player. He brought it home, ready to watch the supposedly improved picture quality. Then he made a discovery that none of our TVs are high-definition, meaning that a blu-ray shows little improvement over what we currently have.

Undeterred, he figured out a solution. He asked for an HDTV for Christmas. My wife and I saw the logic in his request. We wanted to get an HDTV as well. However, we realized it made no sense to get an HDTV for our son’s room. So, we offered him a suggestion. We would get a nice HDTV for him. He would then share it with the family. He readily agreed. The new TV is now in our sun room.

My son also got several new blu-ray discs of movies he wanted for Christmas. His little brother, who had a birthday earlier this month, spent some of his birthday money on other movies.

And now we have movie night.

My kids look forward to watching the movies on the new TV. However, they really seem to like sitting on a couch with Mom and Dad and enjoying the night at home. (Yes, they’re still young.)

So, it’s with earnest that my younger son tags at my arm and says, “C’mon Dad. It’s movie night. I made the popcorn.”

“OK,” I say. “I’m coming.”

“Good,” he says and then adds “and Dad, no computer allowed during movie night.”

Because he wants us all to himself.

As long as my kids want to spend time with the parents, I’ll enjoy it…while it lasts.

What Wouldn't You Touch With a Ten-Foot Pole?

2012-01-17T07:00:00.003-05:00

A common phrase many people use to describe things they don’t like or don’t want to deal with is “I wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole.”

Supposedly, the phrase originates from England about a century ago. Back then, horse-drawn barges were a form of public transit. Barge drivers used ten-foot poles for steering among other things.

Why is this important? Well, it’s because we have a basketball goal in our driveway.

Correction, we had one.

The goal was one of the portable types. My older son got it as a Christmas present our last Christmas in Oregon over six years ago. Since we knew we were about to move, we didn’t assemble it until we got settled in Georgia. We played on it for awhile and enjoyed it. However, over the years, severe winds managed to knock it over a few times, slamming it into the iron fence in our backyard.

Eventually, I began putting the goal over on its side on stormy nights. However, there were certain nights when the wind would start long after I’d gone to bed. Last week was one of those times. After last week’s storm, I found the goal against the fence again, this time beyond repair.

I disassembled it, removing the goal and base. Then I tried to take apart the pole. It came in three pieces when we got it. I thought it would be easy to take it apart, but the pieces were stuck together.

So I’m now in possession of a ten-foot pole.

My plan is to put it on the curb and see if the garbage company will pick it up. However, if they don’t, I’m trying to figure out what I can do. I could borrow a saw and cut it into pieces or else plant it in the backyard and start a permanent court back there.

However, I could always keep it for when someone says “I wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole.”

Now I’m trying to think of think of things people wouldn’t touch. Friends of mine have suggested a few things:
1) Brussels sprouts
2) Joan Rivers
3) Junk e-mail with attachments

What things wouldn’t you touch with a ten-foot pole? I’d love to hear it.

Who speaks for the NOOKies?

2012-01-10T07:00:00.001-05:00

My “shares a birthday with Elvis” younger son put me on trial this past weekend.

The charge? He claims I deserted my previous favorite toy, my Nook, in favor of my new toy, an iPad.

I got the Nook last year and was hooked immediately. I’d wanted an eReader for a long time but hadn’t gotten around to it. For a long time, I debated Nook vs. Kindle before settling on the Nook. I downloaded some books on it as soon as I got it and began reading. I took it with me on trips and found it a lot easier than carrying four or five books for a week. Granted, I still brought one book with me on trips to take to the pool so my Nook wouldn’t get wet.

Then, I got the iPad.

The first apps I downloaded were Nook and Kindle applications and I began reading again. I also downloaded other applications, such as Words with Friends and Angry Birds, meaning I’m now using my new toy to read, play online scrabble, and shoot pigs. However, I still use my Nook. I took it with me when we visited family over the holidays. I’m even reading different books on each device.

Then, last Wednesday, I left my Nook in my wife’s car.

My older son found it a couple of days later and brought it inside. My younger son then accused me of abandoning my Nook, throwing it aside in favor of new technology. He set himself up as legal counsel, claiming to speak on behalf of abandoned Nookies everywhere. He re-named his mom Judge Judy and called his older brother as an eyewitness.

I tried to defend myself. I said that my older son was already using the Nook and was reading some books. I’m also said I was still using it. Given that it’s become somewhat archaic, it’s actually a little more valuable. I can take it places where people are using iPads. No one notices a first edition Nook.

My younger son found me guilty anyway but has yet to decide my sentence. Finding me guilty was enough for him.

Also, my older son does like the Nook. He does read on it. He also plays sudoku on it.
However, to fully make the transition, I’ll probably have to download Hunger Games for him.

Still, my younger son has another complaint.

Why is his older brother getting the Nook instead of him?

Christmas Recycling

2012-01-03T07:00:00.002-05:00

My little one loves Christmas trees. I've mentioned that here before.

This fact leads to interesting scenes when it's time each year to get rid of them.

My son, now nearly ten years old, doesn't like to think about it. This year, with a week-long trip to see family beginning on the 26th, we stripped the tree of ornaments on the 25th, laying them on the dining room table for putting them away on our return. We also took down the lights. On the morning of the 26th, we took down the tree, leaving it on the front porch, out of sight from anyone. The idea was not to draw attention to ourselves. We did our best.

After we returned home, we knew it was time to get rid of the tree. My older son and I tied it to the top of my wife's car and we headed out to Home Depot. I was a little nervous as there was a blustery wind. I drove the back roads, afraid of having made a mistake and seeing the tree spill out onto the road a la the mayhem commercials from Allstate.

As I said above, my older son went with me to help me get rid of the tree.

My younger one stayed home.

The trip to Home Depot proved uneventful. We picked up a pizza and headed back.

There were broken branches still left on the porch as well, remnants from wreaths and other greenery decorations my wife had done a masterful job with in decorating our house. I asked my younger son to throw them in the woods out back. My wife called down and just asked that they put in the shrubbery out front, the needles to serve as pine needle mulch.

Maybe we should have done that with the rest of the tree and allowed my little guy to say goodbye.

A Great Read

2011-12-27T07:00:00.002-05:00

I've read a few regencies in my day, but I'm not an active follower of the genre. Still, I love a good historical. And when an author can transport you into a time period, a reader gets full enjoyment.

Laurie Alice Eakes is a writer that does just that.

Her latest work, A Necessary Deception, tells the story of a young widow that extends her hand to an enemy that once befriended her late husband. As the back of the blurb tells you...

When young widow Lady Lydia Gale helps a French prisoner obtain parole, she never dreamed he would turn up in her parlor. But just as the London Season is getting under way, there he is, along with a few other questionable personages. While she should be focused on helping her headstrong younger sister prepare for her entré into London society, Lady Gale finds herself preoccupied with the mysterious Frenchman. Is he a spy or a suitor? Can she trust him? Or is she putting her family in danger?

But the above still doesn't provide enough of the action. When Lady Lydia Gale's gesture leads to

threats of treason and arrest as well as blackmail, the reader knows they're in for a story that will keep them on edge to the end.

For those of you that got giftcards for a Christmas and are looking for a good read, this is an inspirational novel that is well worth checking out.

The Littlest Actor

2011-12-20T07:00:00.002-05:00

Every family has a story that keeps on giving, one that will be retold for the rest of their days. This is ours. And while I have run it on previous Christmases, I hope you won't mind if I run it again. It occurred a few years ago, when we lived in Oregon. May you Christmas worship time be memorable to you.

Every Christmas Eve, my wife and I take our sons to the children’s service at our church. The service includes a kids’ pageant and our boys seem to pay closer attention than they do during the typical church service. Also, we feel that attending Mass on Christmas Eve provides a wonderful way to begin the holiday. After the service is over, we go out to dinner to the one place open on Christmas Eve, a Chinese restaurant.

While my wife and I believe every family Christmas is special, we cannot conceive that any will be more memorable than this one. It was to be a big night as our older son, Andrew, was finally old enough to participate in the Christmas pageant. He enjoyed two rehearsals and getting into costume, admirably playing the role of a shepherd.

Because church seating at Christmas is limited and we wanted to take pictures, we arrived almost an hour early to get a seat up front.We knew it would be difficult to keep our pre-school age son, Christopher, seated for the long service and the time before it. Therefore, my wife saved our seats while I played with Christopher and kept him entertained. When it was close to time, I corralled him and took him to our seats; he sat on my wife’s lap and anxiously looked for his older brother and the start of the show.

Just before the beginning of the pageant, the stuffy air in the crowded church became a little more unbearable than usual. As there were several babies in the immediate vicinity, my wife and I both thought one of them must have needed changing. Catching the odor, Christopher said aloud, “What’s that smell?” He turned around, looked at his Mom, and said, “That’s disgusting! Mommy, you stink! Mommy, go to the bathroom!”

We did our best to quiet him down, while the people around us were suppressing their laughter. He continued on, repeating the words, “That’s disgusting! Mommy, you stink! Mommy, go to the bathroom!” Eventually, Christopher quieted down and the pageant began.

After Mass ended, we walked to the car, buckled the kids in, and drove away. On the way to the Chinese restaurant, my wife and I discussed the incident. She realized that the words Christopher used in church were the same ones she had used with him during his potty training. Also, we were convinced one of the babies close to us during the service must have had a poopy diaper or probably just passed gas. We chuckled about it.

However, our little guy provided the last laugh. Overhearing the discussion, Christopher, with the smile that only a young child can produce, piped up with one more comment, “Oh, in church? That was me.”

A Time to Remember

2011-12-13T07:00:00.002-05:00

I don’t remember when I learned to tie a tie.

I remember when I was growing up that I used clip-on ties for a while. However, at some point in my youth, my dad gave me a lesson that included half-Windsor, full Windsor, and several words that I don’t remember. I eventually decided on one method for tying ties and learned to do it quickly. It’s second nature now.

So what does that have to do with anything?

Last week, my older son’s middle school band performed at Midfest at the University of Georgia. It’s a prestigious honor to be invited. Schools send in their audition tapes a year in advance and only a select few bands are invited. In order to do make it, you need to produce several years of excellent students in addition to a winning tape.

We knew it was going to a special event, based on the prestige and the selection process the band had to go through just to get invited.

My mother and her husband even came down from North Carolina to watch it. My mother pronounced it worth it, the best school band concert she’d ever seen (i.e. better than mine when I was that age). I agree. The concert was absolutely phenomenal and I don’t just mean because I’m a parent or because the acoustics in a university concert hall exceed those in middle school cafeteria.

It was a special night and one as a parent I’ll never forget.

So what does a band concert have to do with a tie?

The band upgraded their outfits for the concert. For the boys, this included ties.

Last week, I taught my teenager how to tie a tie, passing down another father-to-son tradition. It felt like I’d reached another milestone in his growing up, though one I’d never considered before.

My wife and I will never forget the concert. We know our son won’t either.

But I’ll never forget teaching him to tie a tie.

I hope my son remembers it, too.

When he passes it down to his son.

Welcome to the Forest

2011-12-06T07:00:00.000-05:00

We have five trees in the house.

I’m not exactly sure when this little forest started. It had to be after last Christmas. Last year, we had our one live Christmas tree on the first floor and then a smaller plastic one on the walkway between the bedroom and the loft that led to the boys’ rooms.

There must have been a sale last year.

When my wife asked the boys and me to bring the new trees upstairs from the basement, I wasn’t quite sure what she was talking about at first. However, I looked in the storeroom and there they were: three seven-foot plastic trees, still in their boxes. I don’t remember her picking them up last year. She may have just gone shopping, unloaded them herself from the car and stored them in the basement. Given my keen attention to detail, I never noticed them.

But they’re out now and they’re up.

We have our one live tree next to the stairs.

We have a snow-colored tree in our sun room, decorated in candy-cane-colored plastic ornaments.

We also have a typical green plastic tree in our den, next to our TV. It’s also right next to the window and on the same side of the house as the snow-colored tree. I’m sure the neighbors in the subdivision across from ours can see both trees through the woods behind our house, now that the leaves have fallen and cleared the line of view. Those neighbors may think we like to celebrate Christmas a little. We do

The boys also now have their own tree in their loft, decorated with sports-related ornaments. They put it up themselves and put all the decorations like they wanted them. My wife re-arranged the decorations after the boys went to bed.

We still have the small one in the walkway. This makes five. Plus we have several little trees on counters.

I have to say I like all the trees. I’ve always liked houses that displayed more than one tree. It makes a house seem more festive.

However, I can’t remember ever having conveyed that sentiment to my wife. She likes decorations, but she’s always been much more subdued than I am.

I’ll spend the rest of Christmas wondering how she knew.

And thankful that there are no trees in the bathrooms.

It’s the Chicken Man*

2011-11-29T07:00:00.001-05:00

*with apologies to Toy Story 2 from where I got that line

My younger son (my nine-year old) loves fried chicken.

Let me rephrase that. My younger son is crazy about fried chicken.

Awhile back, Food Network did a show about a fried chicken battle between two places in Pittsburg, Kansas: Chicken Mary’s and Chicken Annie’s. Chicken Mary’s won the competition.

Since that show, my son has been begging us to go to Kansas for vacation, solely for the purpose of eating chicken. However, that’s only part of it. He added chicken from Chicken Mary’s to his Christmas List, asking that Santa bring him a take-out order. My Uncle Steve has jokingly suggested that we get a take-out box from Chicken Mary’s, put leftover chicken bones in it, and then leave a note from Santa with an apology that says “he just got hungry.”

Recently, an online article about the “best chicken places in the U.S.” caught my eye. I read the article and noticed that one of the places, Mama Dip’s, was located in Chapel Hill, NC, less than an hour from where I grew up. Knowing that we were headed to NC for Thanksgiving, we planned a trip to Mama Dip’s. My younger son was ecstatic.

The evening came and went. The chicken was delicious. My son declared it “better than KFC.” (Granted, we hoped it would at least be that.) However, he talked about moving on to bigger things. He still wants to go to Chicken Mary’s. He still wants Santa to bring him take-out.

What’s the strangest gift your kids have ever asked you for?

Pictures of Mama Dip's from http://www.chapelhillmemories.com/. Picture of Chicken Mary's from http://www.city-data.com/.

The Christmas Music War

2011-11-22T07:00:00.000-05:00

My wife and I disagree over the proper time to begin playing Christmas music. She believes that Christmas music shouldn’t be played until December 1st and definitely not until after Thanksgiving. Me, I prefer to start the seasonal listening early.

I know I’m not the only person who likes to hear Christmas music early. One of my favorite movies, The Rookie, brushes on this. The movie is based on the life of Jimmy Morris, a high school teacher and baseball coach that realized his dream of playing major league baseball. The movie stars Dennis Quaid in the lead role. In one scene, Quaid’s character is eating at a diner. The patrons are chatting, when Morris notes the song in the background.

(Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…)
Jimmy Morris: Frank, ain’t it a little late to be playing that song?
Frank (the proprietor): It’s 8:30.
Jimmy Morris: It’s March.

The proprietor responds that the song is too good to be played only one month of the year.

As I said earlier, my wife is a “Christmas music begins December 1st” kind of woman. When she drives my car, she sometimes winces when she turns on the radio.
“Honey, why are you playing Christmas music?” she asks.
“It’s that time of year.”
“It’s early November.”
“I like it. It’s a radio station. I can’t be the only one who likes it or there wouldn’t be a market for it.”
“It’s not even Thanksgiving yet!”

My view extends to movies. My favorite is Miracle on 34th Street. As Christmas approached one year, I asked my wife, “Do you want to watch Miracle this evening?”
“Not tonight, Honey. I have a headache.”
I try again a few days later, “Do you want to watch Miracle tonight?”
“I don’t feel like it. Maybe in a couple of days.”
This continued. On Christmas Day, I asked one last time. “How about (Miracle) tonight?”
“I’m too tired. Tomorrow, I promise!”
Come tomorrow, she says to me, “Christmas is over. We need to wait until next year.”
If we must adhere to her policy, we should at least find a time during the holidays where we actually do watch the film.

So what do you think? When is the proper time to listen to Christmas music?

Shocked

2011-11-15T07:00:00.000-05:00

I’m still in a little bit of shock.

A few months ago, when I submitted a short story for a Christmas anthology, I was hopeful, but didn’t know how much of a chance I had. Also, it’s difficult to get your head into a Christmas setting with the summer sun beating down on you. I once heard that Christmas CDs are recorded during the summer and that the decorate the recording studios with Christmas decorations to get the artists in the mood. I thought I would try something similar, so I played Christmas music in the car on my commute.

I submitted my story

And now it’s out. I’m one of five authors in a book called Hot Cocoa for the Heart, a Christmas anthology from Highland Press.

It can be purchased at Amazon or Barnes & Noble. A Kindle version is also available. I’ll hope you do me the honor of checking it out. Below is a blurb from the book. I thank you.

Five poignant stories straight from the heart. From soldiers wounded in action during World War II and Iraq, to how the aftermath of car crashes affected peoples' lives, to a dedicated woman who teaches itinerant deaf students. Pull up a chair, grab a cup of hot cocoa, and immerse yourself in their trials, triumphs and tears.

Season's End

2011-11-08T07:00:00.000-05:00

The football season ended too early.

I know the college and pro seasons still have a ways to go. However, the one I cared about the most, my younger son’s team, is nothing but a memory. When the final buzzer blew and the 9-year old Mill Creek Hawks were on the wrong end of a 31-21 scoreboard, a football season that had seen bunch of boys earn a #1 seeding in the playoffs came an abrupt end in the quarter finals. It was the only loss of the season. Unfortunately, it was one too many and came at the wrong time.

We finished the season with a banquet that included trophies and awards, along with a lot of Mill Creek related football wear. Some kids have moved on to basketball season. For us, we’ll take a break. Baseball sign-ups are in January and both my kids are ready to play. We’ll see some of the kids and parents in the other dugouts. We’ll shake hands and catch up, but it won’t be the same. It wasn’t last year after the end of the 2010 football season.

The season actually began in July this year with speed and agility camps. In August, tryouts were held and teams picked. The kids practiced five days a week for two weeks, then shifted to three days a week after that for the start of the season. The regular season continued for nine weeks, eight games and one bye. The football field where the team practiced got a lot of use. There were five or six teams on it for every practice, working in 20- 25 yard areas (and the end zone), all taking their turns on the equipment. When the younger kids vacated at 7:30 p.m., another five teams of older kids showed up to use the field from 7:30 to 9:00.

During practice, parents sat in the stands in bunches, trying to figure out what the kids were working on. A number of parents took advantage of the track that surrounds the field, getting in some exercise, though not nearly as much as their kids. Each practice, I logged between 2-3 miles. It kept me healthy. However, what was more fun was walking each practice with two of the other dads. Did it slow us down to walk together? Yes. At the same time, it was an opportunity for all of us to downshift after a hard day’s work. My wife, whose hobby is origami and who is the most wonderfully creative person I’ve ever known, created various spirit-type items for pep rallies and game days throughout the season. She loves doing it, because she loves the atmosphere, the camaraderie of the season, and the people we get to spend fall with.

This past Saturday, my son’s elementary school had its fall festival. I ran into one of the dads from the 2010 season. It was great to see him and we talked a while. He spent the 2011 season on another field, watching his kids play on another 9-year old Mill Creek team. It will likely be the same next season. Some of the parents we see next season will be the same ones we saw this season. Some will be on other teams. It’s a fact of life. This entire group won’t be together again. One of the coaches for my son’s team lives down the street from us. His son and mine play together all the time. They were on the same team both this season and last season, but there’s no guarantee they’ll be on the same team next year.

Still, I look forward to next year. I hope my son gets picked by a team that has as many of the same kids as this year.

Because this year’s team had a wonderful group of parents.

A Last Look at Halloween

2011-11-01T07:00:00.001-04:00

Being a Dad means walking down the street with a pint-size werewolf and asking him how school went that day, being thankful that the weather is nice, despite the freezing temperatures from the morning, and understanding why Halloween is the 2nd biggest commercial holiday of the year.

It's about the kids.

See you next week.

O Haunted Night

2011-10-25T07:00:00.000-04:00

We took our kids to the Buford Corn Maze last Saturday.

We chose that day as our best option, given that we thought the place would be packed on Halloween weekend. Also, given how my beloved Auburn Tigers played on Saturday afternoon against LSU, getting out of the house was the only way to avoid having to watch the highlights.

One of the biggest attractions at the Corn Maze is the Haunted Forest. Both my sons, ages 14 and 9, were excited about seeing it. However, as I scanned the rules, I became a little concerned that my 9 year old might not be able to handle it. Per the rules it said:
Recommended for 13 and up

“It says 13 and up.” I commented to my younger son. “Are you sure?”

“Dad. I’m fine.”

“OK.”

We were greeted at the entrance by two overdressed Goths who smiled and welcomed us in. We’d only gone a few feet when one of the props broke from a still position and decided to follow us.

“Who-o-o-o-o,” the ghoul said.

My nine-year old grabbed on to me. “It’s alright,” I said. “You’ll be fine.”

But my nine-year old couldn’t take his eyes off the female ghoul behind us.

“RAHRRRR!” a voice said from close to our feet as a monster pretended to claw at us from a broken cage.

And from there, my nine-year old was a basket case. He hung on to me for dear life and I couldn’t move without him dragging his feet on the ground. My 14-year old was fascinated, but I couldn’t tell if it was with the attraction itself or his little brother.

“Daddy, I wanna go,” my nine-year-old said.

I remembered the sign from the entrance.

Actors will not touch you. Please do not touch them.

“Don’t worry,” I said, remembering the sign. “The monsters won’t touch you. You’ll be fine.” It didn’t help.

As we proceeded through the forest, I realized how it worked. One actor would follow you so you’d focus on what was behind you and then someone would spring in front of you. However, I was too focused on my son. I missed their entrance.

“Daddy, can we leave?”

I looked around for the next turn in the forest. “Hold on,” I responded. “I’m looking for the next way to go.”

“Left” a gravely voice replied from behind the wall.

We continued to make progress as best we could. A Friday the 13th wannabe jumped in front of with a machete. I smiled back at the guy and said, “Sorry, he’s had enough.”

I looked at my younger son again. “Don’t worry. They won’t touch you.”

“That’s right. We won’t touch you,” said one of the ghouls in a low voice.

We eventually made it out of the forest and my nine-year old was relieved. We jokingly asked him if he wanted to go back in. His eyes flew open. He shook his head.

We promised we wouldn’t bring him back next year. He seemed fine with that.

I do have to admit to that the ghouls in the forest did sense that my younger son was scared. Another one must have noted the Auburn pullover my older son wore into the forest.

At some point in the forest, I could have sworn one of the ghouls said “War Eagle.”

Divided Loyalties

2011-10-18T08:00:00.000-04:00

My kids, like most in the area, are Falcons fans. They’ve watched games with me every week this season and they cheer hard. It hasn’t been the start that we’ve hoped for, but there’s still ten games to go.

However, given that we live in an area where college football is still on top, and given the love of Auburn they inherited from me and a few gazillion other relatives, they follow former Auburn players with a particular gusto. Last year, during Auburn’s run to the national title, my nine-year old began to follow Cam Newton. He lived with every play last season, reveling in the undefeated season. The greatest day of his life was his “low five” exchange with Newton during the Tiger Walk at last year’s Auburn-Georgia game. He touched his hero. Thankfully, he’s washed his hand since then.

When Cam Newton was drafted by the Carolina Panthers, my nine year-old became an instant Panthers fan. He goes on-line to read statistics, watches Panthers games on computer when they aren’t on TV, watches ESPN for highlights, and keeps up with his hero. Besides, the grandparents are Panthers fans, so he felt right at home.

So, this weekend’s match-up between the Panthers and the Falcons provided a challenge. For my 14-year old, it was not an issue. Wearing his Falcons t-shirt, he rooted for his team and rooted for the Auburn players on the other side, too. However, my 9-year old found himself conflicted. How could he cheer for Cam and the Falcons (a team with no Auburn grads)?

When the game ended, he was both happy and upset. He’s nine. He can do that. At the same time, he noted the first two items on his Christmas list.

1) A Cam Newton Carolina Panthers jersey.
2) A copy of Madden 2012, so he could control Cam and make great plays like his hero does.
3) Tickets to a Panthers game so he can watch Cam in person.

I know next week won’t present the problems for my nine-year old that this week did. (My 9-year old cheers for the Lions because of Nick Fairley, but it’s just not Cam.) Also, there’s one more Falcons-Panthers game left this season and more to come in the future, given that the teams are in the same division. I’ll have to see how he handles it.

It’s more fun to watch than the game.

Gone Scuba Divin'

2011-10-11T07:00:00.003-04:00

Actually, I haven't gone scuba diving, sky diving, fishing, or anything like that. However, I'm taking a blogging holiday for the day. I thank all of you who read my blog. I'll be back next week.

Best regards,

Walt Mussell

Pitchers and Catchers Report

2011-10-04T07:00:00.003-04:00

The above title normally applies to February.

In February, pitcher and catchers will report for a new season of major league baseball. The playoffs have just begun, so we’re a long way from thinking about next year.

However, for the first time in several months, my nine-year old, who wants to spell the Braves’ Craig Kimbrel in the bullpen (he’s already adopted his mannerisms), threw pitches with me in our driveway. It was a tense opening. My nine-year old has been playing or practicing football since July. Neither of us opened very well. Balls were overthrown and underthrown. We’re not ready for the season.

Still, he threw some good pitches, too (I thought so anyway). He threw a few strikes and put a few close balls in there that an umpire might call strikes. Then there were the wid pitches, though I may just be getting slow. When a ball gets by me, I hope it gets stopped by the fence behind me. Unfortunately, it’s not solid like the wall behind a major league home plate. Many balls get into the backyard and we have to go get them One ball went into the bushes. We still can’t find it.

But it was a good first session. And, we can keep at it until the weather gets cold.

Next season awaits.

For Want of a Few More Minutes

2011-09-27T07:00:00.003-04:00

If you’ve ever been to a Catholic church, you will notice something that is the bane of pastors and associate pastors everywhere.

Toward the end of a service, after a practicing Catholic has received Communion (bread and wine), most of them will return to their seats. However, to the consternation of many pastors, a number of attendees will head for the exits.

For those of you haven’t been to a Catholic service before, leaving imediately after Communion means leaving before the service is over. It’s like leaving a movie after the villains have been vanquished but before the heroes say goodbye to each other.

Sometimes, there are reasons for leaving early. Last Sunday, I had one. My older son had gone camping with his Scout troop. They were scheduled to return at 12:00, but there’s never been an event where they didn’t arrive home early. I’d planned to stay for the full service. However, staring at a packed house with a service that was going longer than usual, I decided I needed to leave.

While in line for Communion, my younger son leaned his head back and looked at me. “Dad, we can’t leave. Father’s at the door.”

I glanced to my left at the church exit that led to the rear parking lot and the location of my car. My son was right. Our assistant pastor was celebrating the Mass that day. Sometime during the Mass, our head pastor had entered to watch. He stood in the center spot in front of the four doors that led out of the worship area.

I glanced at my watch. There was a minimum of ten minutes to go, fifteen if there was a speaker talking about a retreat or something similar. I uttered a silent prayer that my son’s troop might be on time instead of early.

A minute later, my cell phone buzzed. I checked the number and knew time had run out. I leaned over my son’s head. “We’re going.”

We received Communion and headed toward the exit. I did what any good Catholic would do.

I confessed.

I looked him in the eye, shook his hand, and said, “Forgive me, Father, but I got buzzed in line. My son’s troop is home early from their camping trip."

Father laughed, slapped me on the shoulder with his Bible, and told me to go.

My son stared at me as we walked out the door. He couldn’t believe we left early.

When he’s a dad, he’ll understand.

A Look Back

2011-09-20T07:00:00.000-04:00

The streak is over.

After seventeen straight wins, my beloved Auburn Tigers walked off the field in defeat.

Some of you may not realize this, but I graduated from Auburn University. I used to write a weekly blog on Auburn football in addition to doing a parenting blog. I eventually gave up on the football blog to concentrate on the parenting one.

I’ve always thought of Auburn football as an adrenaline rush. When I was in school, I never missed a game. In my sophomore year, I played in the marching band. I have many fond memories of those days, with the notable exception of the band needing a police escort to get out of Neyland Stadium (University of Tennessee) after Tennessee upset then #1 Auburn 34-20. (The students tore down the goal post and tried to run over the band with it.) Auburn football has always been a cardiac affair.

I have to admit, the streak was fun while it lasted. Out of the 17 games, over half of the victories were by a touchdown of less. Nearly three quarters of them were come-from-behind wins and at least five of them were by double digit totals. The last three games alone were in doubt until the last minute.

That’s Auburn football.

It’s so nerve-wracking that Auburn fans get nervous watching videos of the team play.

And for seventeen games, including both a National Championship, and an SEC title, it was wonderful.

This year’s team has struggles. The defense has more holes in it than the relationships at the end of The Bachelor and Bachelorette shows.

But it’s still Auburn football, win or lose.

So, to all my Auburn friends, I say only one thing.

War Eagle!

Enter the Colonel

2011-09-13T07:00:00.002-04:00

I signed on to head the popcorn drive for my son’s Boy Scout troop.

Part of me says I don’t know why I did it. However, the other part of me knows exactly why.

It offered an opportunity.

As parents, we often say we want to get more involved in our kid’s activities. I’ve broached the topic here before. My job keeps me busy. I can make activities that require me to show up occasionally, However, activities that require repeated time commitments are out.

So when the position of popcorn chair for son’s scout troop was needed, I thought here was an activity I could do. The commitment was a sizable one, but it would only take me through November. This one I could handle, I said to myself.

It doesn’t mean it won’t be easy. My limited experience with the popcorn tells me that the girl scouts must be much better organized with the cookie sales. However, I will soldier on.

I ran into my son’s Cub Scout den leaders recently. During the conversation, I told them I was handling the popcorn drive.

They both smiled at me. “You’re the colonel,” they said.

“Colonel (kernel)” is the term given to the popcorn chair. I smiled back and said, “Yes, I am.”

And while we’re on the subject, would anyone like to buy some popcorn. Drop me a line or post your e-mail here. We do sell on-line. I’ll send you a link. :-)

Madden-ing

2011-09-06T07:00:00.004-04:00

I tried to play Madden NFL 11 with my kids this weekend.

It wasn’t easy.

My younger son plays the game often. He’s pretty good at it, and plays the game at the top (Madden) level. He wants to get the latest version as he wants to play with Cam Newton at QB. My older son doesn’t play it as much, preferring baseball and other Wii games. Still, he’s better than his Dad.

When we tried to log in, I had to get my son to take it down a few notches. At first, it didn’t work. Even starting at rookie level, he wanted to put in all the extras.

“Dad, let’s put in the fumbles. Let’s put in the penalties. Let’s put in the injuries. Let's put in turbo speed.”

The fumbles is a particularly interesting option. It’s like playing contact flag football. You have to get your players out of bounds. If they get hit, they’ll fumble the ball. For a guy who’s just learning to maneuver the characters, it wasn’t the fun way to go.

We finally had to re-set the game and I know my kids took it easy on me. I had to learn how to pass, throw, and run. Still, with thirty seconds left before my time expired, my younger son rubbed a bit of his expertise in. He set up with four wide receivers and blew by my defenders for an easy TD.

“Dad, you had the wrong defense there. You had linebackers covering wide receivers. That’s a mismatch.”

I know that, but knowing is one thing. Reacting to it fast enough is another.

Until the next time.

Raising The Bar

2011-08-30T07:00:00.002-04:00

Three months short of our older son’s 4th birthday, he was diagnosed with autism.

I’m not sure if my wife and I really understood what that meant back then. We’d heard the term. We’d seen stories. Once we got the diagnosis, we read the literature. The learning curve was steep. We tried to stay on the road. It was a challenge for us.

It was a greater challenge for him.

The biggest issue he faced was with his speech. He had difficulty processing what he heard. He had difficulty saying what he was trying to say. My wife once commented that our son speaks English like it’s his second language. Try as we might, we couldn’t figure out what the first language was.

We got as much help as we could through insurance and hired private help, the type that insurance wouldn’t cover. We also worked hard with him ourselves at home. When he started school, we got him an Individualized Education Profile (IEP), trying to obtain services for him. Slowly, it started to pay off.

The first thing we discovered was that he excelled at math. Numbers came easy to him, though word problems were troubling. We also found that he liked science and history. Language arts was another story. His language issues proved hard to overcome. However, he did get better.

As his abilities improved, we changed his focus. However, we discovered he did as well. He was pulled nearly every day for special services. He didn’t like being singled out and worked with one goal in mind…to get out of services.

We worried when he started middle school, concerned if he could handle the increased work load. He did well, particularly in math, and his grades were good overall. He also joined the band as a clarinet player. His service levels were reduced, but he still got them for speech and language arts.

Seventh grade came and our son surprised us. He secretly made arrangements to change from regular math to accelerated math class and passed the test to be admitted. He also tried out for and made Honors Band. Toward the end of of seventh grade, he applied to be a Peer Leader at his school. The position would allow him to help younger students to adjust to middle school. His speech capabilities were an issue, but he didn't let that stop him. He went through the application and interview was accepted as a Peer Leader.

This year, he started 8th grade. He continues to be in Accelerated Math and Honors Band and he added Accelerated Science. We were worried that more accelerated classes would tax him, but he wanted to stay in the class. He’s also moved to a regular Language Arts class. He continues to have speech problems and take speech lessons at school. However, he looks forward to the day that he can eliminate that, too.

My wife and I know that challenges remain. However, we couldn’t be prouder of his accomplishments. The day he was diagnosed, I doubt we foresaw this for him. However, I’d be afraid to believe he has any limits now.

Peter Banning Doesn't Live Here

2011-08-23T07:00:00.001-04:00

“Dad, you missed two of my games last year,” my 9 y.o told me in reference to his football team from last season.

“I made eight of your games,” I responded, knowing that I’d caught six of the regular season games and both playoff games. (I would have caught more playoff games, but they unfortunately lost that second one. I also made both preseason scrimmages but I didn’t point that out to him. Granted, I didn’t remember it at the time.)

Still, the comment hurt a bit. I love watching my kids play sports and I do my best to make their games. During baseball season, I’ve served as scorekeeper. This fall, I know I will serve at a couple of football games in a volunteer capacity.

But I’ve seen the schedule. I know the horrible truth. I will miss a couple of games this season, too. And this year, like last year, I know there’s nothing I can do.

Still, I know it doesn’t make me Peter Banning. However, I can’t help but feeling that way. For those of you unfamiliar with the reference, Peter Banning is a character from the movie Hook. In Hook, Peter Pan has grown up and is now a hotshot lawyer with a wife and kids. He makes a lot of money but never makes time for his family. Hook plots his re revenge on Pan by kidnapping his kids and trying to establish a “connection” with Pan’s son, trying to entice Pan’s son to him instead of Pan.

I would not recommend Hook from an entertainment point-of-view as the movie proves it is possible to have two incredible personalities like Robin Williams and Dustin Hoffman in a movie and have it suck anyway. Still, the movie does a good job of pointing out the importance of being there for family events.

I’ll miss two games. I have to live with that.

But I don’t doubt that I’ll always be there for my boys.

The Calm Before The Storm

2011-08-16T07:00:00.000-04:00

School started last Monday, at least for the kids in Gwinnett County.

I think we were ready for school to start. At the same time, it still feels early. Out in Oregon, where we used to live, kids start school in September. That seemed reasonable. When we moved to Georgia, we did it in the middle of the school year. It took more than a month between the time we left Oregon and the time we had a house in the Atlanta area. The day after we moved into our house, my wife took our older son to school to enroll him. The school placed him in a class that morning. A little over a month later, he was out for the summer as we tried to deal with the fact that he’d essentially missed over two months in school in total.

Fast forward to now. A week of school is already completed. I know my kids are studying. Yet, it seems like they’re getting through everything fine so far without me. I know they get homework. I’ve heard them talk about it. My wife has them focus on it when they get home from school. They’ve gotten it completed without having to ask me.

That feels strange.

Over the years, I’ve gotten used to finishing my work, sitting down from dinner, and then studying with the kids until they had to go to bed. I haven’t had to do that yet. Then again, it’s only been a week.

I know the days will come where they need my assistance and I’ll be working with them every night. At that point, I'll start wishing it was already summer. At the same time, I know they’re growing up. My wife has impressed upon them good study habits. As they’ve grown older, they’ve gotten more capable at doing their work themselves, despite the increasing complexity of their assignments. I’m proud of their self-reliance.

Still, part of me looks forward to the day that I come home from work and find that my kids still need their Dad’s help.

It’s great to be a parent.

Elisha's Request

2011-08-09T07:00:00.004-04:00

When they had crossed over, Elijah said to Elisha, "Request whatever I might do for you, before I am taken from you.” Elisha answered, "May I receive a double portion of your spirit."

-2 Kings 2:9

Football season has started.

It’s been a long time coming. Two years ago, when our 9-year old was only just seven, he begged us to let him play football. Knowing his penchant for taking up new hobbies and then losing interest (a trait my wife would say was inherited from me), we told him he would have to wait for a year. A year later, with him now 8-years old, still wanting to play, and willing to invest his Christmas and birthday money in equipment, we agreed to let him play football. He had a blast. We enjoyed it, too. And we told him he could play again if he wanted to do so.

Last season, when his team was in the playoffs, we went to the pastor after church and requested a blessing for safety.

This year, though, we didn’t wait until the end.

Back in July, with pre-season agility camps in swing, we went ahead and requested a blessing. As my son really likes our associate pastor, we approached him after church and he was happy to do it.

A few weeks later, back from vacation and ready for the season, my son decided one blessing wasn’t enough. This time, after church, he approached the pastor and asked for a blessing for football season. The pastor was happy to oblige.

Maybe it’s a little crazy to go twice for a blessing for the same thing, but when I see the recent tragic events of high school kids dying at football practice, I don’t once question the wisdom of getting a double portion of spirit. With the heat, the coaches of my son’s team have made sure that the kids get plenty of water and breaks as well as practicing without pads. We also make sure that our son drinks plenty of fluids at home.

Hopefully, the weather will cool off soon to the type of weather that football was meant to be played in. Still, even when it does, we’ll take all the blessings we can get.

Suggestions for the Arizona Tourism Board

2011-08-02T07:00:00.004-04:00

One last word on our trip out west to visit family.

We really enjoyed our recent trip. We try to visit my in-laws as often as we can. When we lived in Portland, we saw them often. Since moving to Georgia, our trips are fewer, so we make our visits longer.

As I showed last week, there were a number of memorable things about the trip, particularly the Grand Canyon among other things. I hope we do go again someday and I would recommend it to anyone.

However, for those planning a trip to Arizona, I would like to provide you with a list of things that won’t be found on any website discussing Arizona tourism. While these items in no way should ever dissuade a visit, they should be acknowledged.

1) The bugs in Arizona are bigger then you may be accustomed to. Attacks are not an issue. However, expect to wash your windshield more often.
2) There are no bank signs showing the temperature. At some point, hot is just hot and the number is meaningless.
3) For those traveling from California, Exit #9 on I-40 in Arizona has cheap gas.
4) Just because an exit has a sign for a fast food restaurant does not mean that the fast food restaurant is close to the exit.
5) Pitch dark can take on a new meaning.
6) Even if a hotel has multiple pools, do not ask if one of them inside unless you like making the hotel staff laugh.
7) If the sign at the exit says no services for 60 miles, believe it.
8) For those visiting the Petrified Forest, the trees you remember from textbooks are at the south entrance. The only food in the Petrified Forest is at the north entrance. Plan accordingly, especially if you have kids.
9) The Chapel of the Holy Cross (Sedona) is still a tourist attraction. It’s closed on Christmas and Easter.
10) There is an abundance of mules for those who wish to ride the trails in the Grand Canyon. For those who wish to hike the trails, there is an abundance of mule poop.

Have a good week.

Getting Our Kicks on Route 66

2011-07-26T07:00:00.006-04:00

I’m still jet lagged.

I don’t know what it is about going to the West Coast for a few days that takes me awhile to adjust to on my return, but I’m still going to bed late and waking up late. For someone who’s a habitually early riser, this is not an easy adjustment to make. I went to Japan back in 2008. It took me three days to get my rhythms back in sync. I’ve been home a week from my family’s visit to California and I’m still having problems.

However, I must say it was an awesome trip. During our time out there, we took a family trip to places in Arizona. We visited the Grand Canyon, the Petrified Forest, and toured around Sedona.

I probably first learned about the Grand Canyon in Elementary School. We studied about western U.S. geography in 4th grade. I remember we watched films. I saw pictures. (There was also that three-part episode of the Brady Bunch where they went to the Grand Canyon.)

But there’s nothing that could have prepared me for the grandeur that is the Canyon. We came in through the south entrance, which is the part that’s accessible year-round. (There is a north entrance that’s only accessible during the summer.) We feared it might be hot, but you’re 7,000+ feet high when you’re visiting there. Rains threatened and kept it cool. We went to several viewing sites and also watched the sunset. I gave my wife a hard time, telling her that she was taking so many pictures that she was missing it.

On Day 2, we went to the Petrified Forest, another fascinating geographical marvel that I’d only read about. While not as impressive as the Canyon, the Forest was still amazing. My younger son wanted to take piece home, an activity that is forbidden but impossible to monitor. We told him no, that taking things would destroy the Forest for future generations.

We’d planned to spend our third day back at the Grand Canyon. However, we got a pleasant surprise at our hotel in Sedona. We arrived at our hotel late at night, the outside giving new meaning to the term pitch dark. However, when we awoke and stepped outside in daylight, we were blown away by the natural pink rock formations.

The thing I didn’t expect on this trip was Route 66. Much of the trip was on I-40, which parallels the old Route 66 in the western U.S. There are numerous signs that point out Route 66, both drivable and non-drivable sections. As my boys have seen Cars numerous times, they enjoyed this, too.

I would love to visit again some day, but I don’t know when that will happen. We’re running out of places within driving distance of my in-laws place in southern California. We’re thinking that we might have to meet somewhere. Our first choice is Mount Rushmore, though we figure we could also go to Yellowstone.

May need to check the geography to make sure we can do it.

Thank You, David Aardsma

2011-07-19T07:00:00.000-04:00

We just returned from vacation. By just returned, I mean it’s Monday as I write this. We flew overnight from Los Angeles to Atlanta, landing Monday morning. We spent the last eleven days with family in southern California. The trip included several days in Arizona with stops at the Grand Canyon, the Petrified Forest, and the red rock country in Sedona. It was some of the most beautiful scenery I’ve ever viewed. When you see the Grand Canyon, you understand immediately why it was the first area Teddy Roosevelt designated as a national park after creating the national park system. I will talk more about that next week, after I have a chance to review the pictures.

Today, though, I want to talk about baseball.

While in California, we attended a game between the Angels and the Mariners. My in-laws bought Angels caps in advance for the boys and a stuffed rally monkey that my 9-year old adopted.

The most exciting thing about this game for the kids, though, was the chance to see Ichiro. They’d seen him once before when the Mariners visited Atlanta. They looked forward to it then and still remember it. However, whenever the Mariners return to Atlanta, it’s a distinct possibility that Ichiro may have retired by that time. So, this time may be my boys’ last chance.

We went early to watch batting practice and were able to watch from the first base side of the outfield. The Mariners warmed up in front of us. In hopes of drawing Ichiro’s attention, my nine-year old wore a Mariners cap that we have.

Getting noticed, however, was a problem. We weren’t the only ones in the stands trying to get the attention of the ballplayers. Many fans were around us, hoping to obtain signatures or foul balls. Luck didn’t seem to be with us as none of the foul balls bounced our way. Seattle pitchers and outfielders, who were shagging the balls, would often throw the balls into the crowd. However, the players were just as likely to throw the balls back in to be reused.

When players threw balls into the crowd, they often pointed at a kid in the stands to let them know. However, none of the players pointed at my kids.

Until Seattle closer David Aardsma fielded an Ichiro grounder.

He scanned the crowd, likely saw my younger son’s Seattle ball cap, and pointed right at him Aardsma threw a perfect strike with a soft touch. My son caught it. He now had a ball hit by Ichiro, courtesy of Aardsma.

I admit I was nervous. I was afraid my son would drop it. I was also afraid that someone might try to take it from him. The balls are marked with a special logo for the Angels 50th anniversary and are apparently prized by Angels fans. Thankfully, the fans there operate with a non-interference code when someone is chosen.

If only I had it on film. At least, though, I have the image in my head forever.

I saw an announcement that Aardsma will have Tommy John surgery. I wish him a speedy recovery from a grateful parent.

Rockin' The Suburbs

2011-07-12T07:00:00.002-04:00

I’m always amazed by the diversity of songs on my older son’s iTouch. He gets his favorite songs from movies he has seen. He has songs by Elvis, Lady Gaga, Bon Jovi, Coolio among a huge smattering of names.

One movie he liked a lot a few years back was “Over the Hedge.” Among the tunes in Over the Hedge was a rewrite of a Ben Folds song called Rockin’ the Suburbs. The lyrics were funny. The song also had a monologue from William Shatner, who voiced one of the characters in the movie.

My wife listened to Rockin’ the Suburbs on my son’s iTouch recently and got a shock. Neither of us had ever heard the original version before, but found the original lyrics to be unsuitable for children.

We explained the situation to our son and he knew he’d have to get rid of the song. We also explained that he wouldn’t be able to get his money back. He’d made the purchase. Unfortunately, he didn’t realize what he’d bought.

We looked for the version from Over The Hedge but were unable to find it on iTunes. We told him that if he really wanted it, he could buy the movie soundtrack. I’m thankful that he understands our decision.

Readers, what would you have done? Would you have let your child keep it? Would you have tried to get your child’s money back? I’d like to know.

The Holidays

2011-07-05T07:00:00.000-04:00

With family in town, I took a break an enjoyed. Instead of a blog post, I've posted a few pictures. Hope all enjoy them. Moreover, hope everyone enjoyed spending holiday time with their families.

A Bridge Not So Far

2011-06-28T07:00:00.000-04:00

“Mom, can we play bridge tonight,” my nine-year old asked his mother as my whole family walked along the beach last week.

“Bridge?” I interjected. “Where did you learn to play bridge?”

My son stared at me. “Dad, it’s no big deal. We each get a deck of cards and see who can build a bridge the fastest.”

“Oh,” I said, understanding his meaning and laughing inside at the same time. I knew that neither my wife nor I know how to play bridge. In the seconds before my son explained, I’d imagined most of his friends and their families, wondering which ones might be bridge players. It was useless. I’d never played the game in my life. I know of no one in my generation who knows how either.

In my parents’ generation, it was a different story. My mom used to play bridge all the time. She belonged to a bridge club that would meet once a month at someone’s house. They’d have food and prizes. I think this went on for several years as I remember a number of parties at the house with the kids having to stay upstairs. When I got up to go to school the day after a bridge club meeting, I noted that the card tables were still out, covered with half-full bowls of snacks and unfinished drinks. Mom always cleaned the day after.

I don’t know if bridge is a dying game, but games with family never dies. While we were at the beach, we did the usual things. We spent the day swimming, caught a fireworks display, ate a lot of good seafood at local restaurants, and caught a movie. The kids spent time at a Nascar Speedpark.

However, we also played cards, mostly regular deck versions of Uno and Old Maid. Old Maid was the funnest. My wife called it by its Japanese name, babanuki. The baba part of the word refers to the Old Maid card, so my wife gave it a southern spin and called it the “Bubba” card. It proved to be a difficult game to play with the kids. Neither of them could keep a straight expression when they got the “Bubba” card, so we always knew where it was. However, I think we all eventually lost one and called babanuki done.

We did a lot of fun stuff while we at the beach, but the card games stay with me. It may be sitting at home for a night, but it’s still TV-off, family interaction.

And that alone can be special.

Nate McLouth Slept Here (for five minutes at least)

2011-06-21T07:00:00.002-04:00

I spent last Thursday in a place no parent enjoys being, the emergency room.

My nine-year old, excited about a Braves win over the Mets last Thursday night, went to bed happy. A few minutes later, he started crying about a severe headache and then upchucked what was left of his dinner.

My wife and I gave him ibuprofen and placed a cold compress on his head, trying to soothe him. However, when the compress had no effect, we realized the ibuprofen likely wasn’t going to help much either. We got him dressed and then I started that late night drive to North Forsyth’s emergency room.

We got checked in quickly and seen quickly. The diagnosis was dehydration, a product of the recent start of Agility Camp (a precursor to fall football practice). He hadn’t been drinking enough water overall and it finally got to him. Oddly, it hit him on Thursday, a night when he doesn’t have practice. Still, my wife and knew the diagnosis was true. He wasn’t drinking enough water.

However, before we went home, the doctor at North Forsyth wanted to run a CAT scan. Since there’s no history of migraines in the family, the doctor wanted to rule out anything unexpected. So, off my little guy and I went to a room with a table and a big white doughnut. My son, a little scared, asked if I could stay with him. The technician said I could, so I donned a lead apron. Thinking about my son’s love of sports and that he was practicing for football, I thought of a way to calm his nerves.

“Just think,” I said, “Falcons have been on this table.”

“Yes,” the technician added, “and Braves, too.”

I glanced at the technician. “You can’t tell me who, can you,” I asked, hopeful.

She shook her head. “No.”

“I figured there were privacy issues.”

I turned back to my son. “You hear that? Falcons and Braves were both on this table.” An outfield collision from a Braves game last summer entered my mind and I had to bring it up. “Just think. Last baseball season, Nate McLouth was on that table.”

My son smiled and he calmed a bit. A minute later the machine began moving and I sat and watched as he never stopped smiling.

We got the results a little over a half hour later. No issues. The hospital discharged and we headed home.

Assured he was feeling better, my wife and I lectured our son on the need to drink enough water. Hopefully, it won’t happen again.

To my son or Nate McLouth.

O Coffee My Coffee

2011-06-14T07:00:00.001-04:00

This week, Fox News and The Huffington Post both posted stories about too much coffee causing auditory hallucinations. (I’ll leave it to readers to decide where of these two entities I likely saw this article.) Researchers in Australia asked participants in a study to down various levels of my favorite beverage and then made them listen to three minutes of sound on earphones. All participants were told that White Christmas would be selection they would hear. Instead, they got three minutes of white noise. The higher the level of caffeine intake, the more likely a participant in the study would say that they heard White Christmas. The notable level was apparently five cups of coffee. People who’d ingested five cups were three times as likely to state that they’d heard White Christmas as opposed to those that hadn’t. The story matched a similar report from LiveScience in 2009 that suggested people hear and see things after only three cups of coffee.

Admittedly, this isn’t the first time this year I’ve heard health news about coffee. It comes out all the time. I’ve heard recent studies that suggest coffee may inhibit certain forms of cancer. I’ve also heard it causes certain forms of cancer, so that’s a mixed review (or picking your poison). But, if you start listing all the supposed health benefits and detriments of coffee, it begins to sound like one of those prescription drug ads you see on TV.

But the idea of hallucinations was new to me.

My kids think I drink too much coffee, especially my nine-year old. Often, he will come up to me with a method he hopes will stop it.

“Dad, I bet you can’t stop drinking coffee for a single day.”

“OK. What’s the bet?”

He wags his forefinger in the air. “If you can’t go the weekend—“

“Weekend? Earlier you said a day.”

“OK. Day,” he says with a huff. “If you can’t go a day without drinking coffee, you pay me five dollars?”

“And if I can, then you pay me five dollars?”

“Uh, no. A quarter.”

“That doesn’t sound very fair.”

He hems around a little more but fails to come up with an equitable solution. Eventually, he gives up.

But what if the hallucinations are true?

It means my wife would have a medical reason for when she claims I didn’t hear her correctly.

The Pursuit of Money

2011-06-07T07:00:00.000-04:00

My 9 y.o. was looking to spend money recently. It’s a common thing. When he gets a little bit of money (birthday, Christmas, grandparents, etc.), he immediately wants to head for Target or WalMart and look for something to buy.

We’ve told him often that he needs to save his money for something he really wants, but he never seems to listen. His older brother is patient and knows how to save. He often picks out something he wants, counts his dollars from gifts and chores, and sticks to his plan. The lectures work on him.

But for my younger son, the money is burning the proverbial hole in his pocket. If it’s there, he can’t wait to spend it.

And such was the recent chain of events. Having received cash gifts for a once-in-a lifetime religious event (First Holy Communion), he looked forward to the things he could by. He picked up a Jackie Chan double feature and a couple of Beyblades, leaving himself with $30. My wife and I told him he should wait until something special came along.

Two days later it did. A new Wii game for major league baseball.

The price was $50.

He knew then he was done for and he was despondent. The Wii game was it.

My wife and I told him he had no one to blame but himself. For once, he admitted we were right. He begged us to help him get it.

We refused. We figured it was a good lesson for him. If the game meant something, he would figure out a way.

And he pursued this goal with vigor. The video was unopened. He returned it. One of the Beyblades was still unopened. He returned that as well. It got him beyond $45 but left him short of $50 (not including tax). We figured out a way to get him 5% off and told him he could use it. He still didn’t have enough. He even tried to sell the open Beyblade to his older brother. That didn’t work.

He begged for extra chores. He begged for an allowance. My wife told him he could earn 25 cents a day if he kept his room clean and his toys picked up. He’s still nine though and that one was beyond him. He didn’t make any progress.

And just when he’d given up, it happened.

A tooth began wiggling.

One gap-toothed smile later, he had the money he needed. The game was purchased. He’s been playing it ever since.

My wife and I don’t know if he’s learned his lesson. But for a brief time, he actually learned to save.

Until the next time.

Tribute To A Volunteer

2011-05-31T07:00:00.002-04:00

I hope a lot of people read this today. Tomorrow it may not be up.

But with the school year having ended, I wanted to say something about a special elementary school volunteer.

When we moved here several years ago, it was so that we could be closer to family. However, it was also because I had a job offer that would allow my wife the opportunity of being a stay-at-home Mom. She made the kids lunches in the morning, drove them to school, and was able to pick them up when the school day ended. From there, she planned activities, made sure they did their homework, and had dinner ready when I got home. It was fine for a while.

But after awhile it didn’t work for her.

So, with the idea of getting more involved in the education of our kids as well as getting to know their teachers, my wife began volunteering at the elementary school. It started slow. She helped in the classroom, but mostly she volunteered in the Media Center (what we used to call a library). She soon found herself at school four days a week, not only working in the Media Center but also teaching science labs. Not only do the teachers know her well, but the kids do, too.

Our older son is in middle school now and will be in eighth grade next year, so he doesn’t see his Mom during the school day anymore. However, he did for the three years he attended elementary school here in Georgia. It kept him on his toes and studying. Our younger son will be in the fourth grade next fall. I don’t know how he feels about seeing his Mom everyday. Secretly, though, he seems to enjoy it.

And I know that her contribution to our kids’ education has been inestimable.

I said at the beginning that this post may not be up tomorrow. My lovely wife is very private. Lauding her contribution to the school and our children’s education publicly could have me sleeping on the couch. At the very least, it will likely get me a call sometime today asking that I remove this.

For now, though, I just want her to know what I think of her.

Finally a Champion (Baseball Part Two)

2011-05-24T07:00:00.003-04:00

My two boys enjoy sports. I’ve said that here before. Their experiences are a little different. My younger son plays baseball and has added football. He is pushing us to let him play basketball this coming winter. Though my older son has played basketball and soccer, he prefers baseball and plays that both fall and spring.

They are competitive with each other, when it comes to sports, even though their likes are different. I’m guessing brothers are like that. One of things they’ve competed on is Championships. Each of them was in a Championship game a couple of years ago. My younger son’s team won their game and brought home the trophy.

My older son’s team lost a heartbreaker, up two runs in the final inning before losing by one. I remember that latter game very well. My older son’s team trailed by one going into the final inning and he was first up. He finagled a walk, stole second, and then was brought home for the tying run by a teammate’s hit to center. I remember that my son missed home plate and I began yelling at him to go back and touch it before he got called out. (He didn’t listen to me, but he did listen to his coaches who had realized it as well.)

This season brought my older son back to his second championship game and a shot at finally matching his brother.

My older son is in his first year of Pony League, having moved up last fall. Most kids in Pony are in either 8th or 9th grade. (My son is in finishing 7th grade.) It's his fifth year overall to play. He started in Minor leagues, and then went into Major. Now, he’s completed his first year of Pony.

And it was a nervous night for parents.

To begin with, my son’s team, the Mill Creek Tigers, had an excellent season this spring and were seeded #1 in their post-season tournament. It meant they got to skip the opening round, playing the winner of the game between the #4 and #5 seeds. They had a good night in that second round game and propelled themselves to the championship two days later.

And that’s what brought the nervousness. The Championship game was against the #3 seed, the Mill Creek Reds, a team that started the season slow but finished strong. They were the only team my son’s team didn’t beat during the season. The Tigers played two games against the Reds and both were close. In each game, my son’s team fell apart in one inning and that was the difference.

In this game, it looked to be different. Going into the top of the 5th inning of a seven-inning game, the Tigers led the Reds 9-2. And then the roof caved in. The Reds scored seven runs in one inning, the maximum allowed, tying it up. With the score tied 9-9, my son’s team managed to plate another run in their half of the 5th and made it 10-9.

With hearts in our throats, the Tiger parents watch as the Reds threatened in the 6th and 7th but couldn’t score. The final was Tigers 10, Reds 9. And my son had the championship and trophy he so desperately wanted and that my wife and I wanted for him.

Pony is a different league from the previous ones that little kids play in because Pony is where kids start to drop out of some rec league sports either to play on school teams or concentrate on other sports. In all the leagues below Pony, there are plenty of teams in the league to make up a good season. For Pony (and higher levels), the rec league combines its season with another rec league in order to produce a full slate of games.

My son is looking forward to playing baseball again in the fall and then again in the spring. I do not know, however, if he’ll play beyond that. He’s recognized that his talents may not match his love for the game. Also, there are things he wants to do in high school that may not allow room for baseball.

He’s had great seasons and has game balls from all the times he played, except for this season. The coach didn’t believe in game balls, saying that baseball was a team sport and that the team won or lost. My son understands this. Of all the game balls he has won, one of them is extra special. One season, he had a coach that only gave out a game ball if the team won. The team went .500 that season. My son received one of the game balls for having a two-hit day in which his second hit brought home both the tying and winning run. Until this season, nothing had eclipsed that ball.

Congratulations to my son and to the Mill Creek Tigers.

Strike Three (Baseball Part 1)

2011-05-17T07:00:00.000-04:00

My nine-year old son takes winning seriously.

In games at home, he pushes the rules trying to eke out any advantage that he can. If he starts losing, he begins to mope, making the game less fun. We cautioned him about his attitude, telling him that he can’t win everything and he needs to learn to be a better sport. Though we think he’s improved, he still shows signs of disgust.

One of the places he does occasionally lose it is on the baseball field. I’ve seen him strike out with kids on base and he goes into the dugout and looks ready to cry. Else, he gets mad and slams his helmet. If his team should lose and one of his hits might have meant the difference, he pouts all the way home.

We’ve told him to cut it out.

We’ve explained to him that it’s a game. It’s okay to be competitive. But, when you cross the line between competitive and being a bad sport, that’s unacceptable behavior.

So it was with trepidation as we watched his at bat at a crucial juncture in a playoff game last week. His 7th seeded Reds were leading the 2nd seeded Rays 5-2 in the third inning. Bases were loaded and there was no one out. My wife and I were hoping he could get it through the infield. He’d singled up the middle in his previous time at the plate. He fouled off six pitches, including a long fly ball, before the ump rung him up looking. He turned, disgusted with himself, his face showing anger. If he could have squeezed a dent in the aluminum bat, he would have done so.

And then he walked back to the dugout and sat down. He was mad. But he didn’t let it get to him.

I walked over, high-fived it with him, and told it was a great at bat.

“Dad, that ball was outside,” he said.

“I know,” I told him. “Nothing you can do about it.”

The next two kids struck out to end the inning. No runs scored. The other team came back in the bottom of the third inning and took the lead 6-5. After the third inning, the game was called on account of time elapsed.

My son felt as if he let his team down.

I assured him he hadn’t.

Trailing 6-5 and with only one out, he took the mound. The previous pitcher had run out of pitches and his team needed two quick outs to hopefully get another inning. He gave up a hit to a close friend on his first pitch, before striking out the next two kids (which included another close friend). However, time had elapsed anyway. They didn’t get another shot.

After the game, my wife and I told him how proud we were of his attitude. We bought him his favorite, french fries, his treat for when he does well.

Because he had.

Shirts and Caps

2011-05-10T07:00:00.000-04:00

I spent four years in Japan, living there from July 1990 – July 1994. When I moved there (can’t believe it’s now more than 20 years ago), I worked in the public school system for my first year, teaching English to Japanese middle school kids. From there, I spent two years with a machine tool company and one with a magazine publisher.

One of the things I always noticed when I lived there was when school kids went on field trips. I don’t mean like going to baseball game or some other type of school function. I mean field trips where they would go sightseeing various temples for a day or possibly an overnight trip. It was hard to miss these kids.

Every one of them was wearing matching shirts, caps, and backpacks.

I always thought of it as being a good idea, though I didn’t remember doing the same when I was a kid. Also, I heard some parents in Japan complain about the costs of these items (particularly the backpacks, though these were obtained for school and they all happened to match). Still, as I saw a small number of teachers and chaperones herding a large number of kids, I couldn’t help but appreciate the safety aspect of it all.

I never imagined seeing anything like that here in the U.S.

And technically I still haven’t.

However, my older son recently went on his first overnight school trip for a music competition in Tennessee. I was thankful a little bit of safety. They bought three t-shirts, one for each day of the trip. They wore the shirts on a schedule that made sure all of the students were dressed the same each day. I’m sure it made life easier for the chaperones, though I’m sure it was still difficult keeping up with a bunch of teenagers. They didn’t have the caps and backpacks, but that was okay.

They all came home safe.

They even finished second in their musical competition.

An Exhibition of Pictures

2011-05-03T07:00:00.002-04:00

My third grade son took a trip recently to downtown Atlanta to see how government works. (A bunch of third graders watching adults act like third graders. It promised to be fun.)

One of the things he wanted to do on his visit to the capitol was to take pictures. This was not a first for him. He often borrows his Mom’s camera and takes pictures of my wife and me when we’re on family trips. He will also borrow the camera at family gatherings. (My wife says he’s a better photographer than I am. My wife also blames my poor photography as the reason for having no decent pictures of her for several years of our marriage.)

Still, there was no way my son was going to be allowed to take my wife’s camera to downtown Atlanta without his Mother or I with him. So, my wife bought a disposable camera for about five bucks at Wal-Mart. He happily took it with him and finished off the roll that afternoon.

The problem came when we tried to get them developed.

My wife initially took the camera to CostCo, a place where we get pictures developed when we want prints made from the disc in her camera. CostCo turned her away. They don’t handle film anymore. She drove to a couple more places. No luck

Eventually, she figured out one place that might take the pictures (I think she went back to Wal-Mart.) and was able to drop them off. It was relatively costly compared to what people used to pay for things like this. Gone were the days of double prints for a low price. Developing film was a service the store still offered, but they didn’t do a lot of it. We got single prints and it was costlier than what we pay for prints from a disc.

My older son has a school trip soon. He’s going up to Tennessee. My wife is considering sending a disposable camera with him as well. (Yes, he’s also a better photographer than I am.) I look forward to seeing the pictures of his trip.

A few weeks ago, my younger son asked me if I was around when people played music on ‘big black CDs.” I told him the word was “records” and said I had been around.

I never expected developing film to go the way of the record.

Time at the Movies.

2011-04-26T07:00:00.000-04:00

We all love a good movie. We often watch them together, either going to a theater or getting a movie off of cable. We also have a lot of DVDs at out house. The boys will watch their favorites periodically. We’ve also taken some away either for disciplinary reasons or because the movie, which we didn’t see in the theater, was more than we thought our boys should be watching.

However, I have a small collection of DVDs, full of my favorites. The biggest problem with my collection?

No one wants to watch them with me.

I have a collection of all of the Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes’ movies. The man was the best Holmes’ ever. I have a copy of Robin Hood, the Errol Flynn version. (Rathbone plays Sir Guy of Gisbourne in this one. As Rathbone was apparently the worst fencer in Hollywood, Flynn demanded a double on all fight scenes.) I also have my Christmas movies, that I put the kids through each year. Then there’s Excalibur, a semi-violent King Arthur saga that I’m not going let the kids watch until they’re old enough to be on their own.

However, every Easter, I pull out one of my favorites: The Ten Commandments. Starring Charlton Heston, the movie is a mixture of pageantry that never ceases to amaze me (along with Anne Baxter as Nefretiri, who also never ceases to amaze me). There have been days when my kids have asked me Biblical questions and I’ve pulled the movie out if I could to show a certain Biblical event. They haven’t minded it then. However, watching the whole thing from start-to-finish is something no one but me cares to do.

This year I gave up on them. I watched the movie in pieces over the course of the two weeks leading up to Easter. I didn’t ask them to join me. I just accepted that I would have to do it on my own. Apparently, that was fine with them. I’m sure my wife saw the DVD downstairs. She knows I never bothered her with it. And the kids never asked.

Maybe next year, they’ll remember they didn’t watch it and they’ll ask me to trot it out. We could make popcorn and watch it again as a family. Or maybe I’ll have to watch it again on my own.

Oh well. If that’s the only thing we don’t do as a family, I can live with that.

Do you have movies you love that your family doesn’t want to watch with you?

Another Step Away from Childhood

2011-04-19T07:00:00.015-04:00

When my younger son was born, I, for reasons which I still don’t fathom, gave him a nickname.

I called him “Squirt.”

It’s not a nickname anyone else uses. He does have a long name can be shortened. My wife and I use the long name. Many of his teachers and coaches call him by the shortened version.

But often, to his face, I say “Squirt.” The term carries a lot of connotations. It means “little one,” but it can also mean “shrimp” or “half-pint,” terms sometimes used to demean a person’s size. Still, he was a little guy and for the longest time he didn’t mind. While tucking him in one evening, I called him by his name.

His response?

“Dad, I’m Squirt.”

Well, my little guy is 9+ now and the day I knew would come has come. He’s asked me to stop using the moniker.

I should have expected it. I was named after my father, who was named after his. For many years, I was called “Little Walter.” (Yes, I understand there’s a difference between a name only one person uses and a name everyone uses.) While I didn’t mind “Little Walter when I was young, I grew to despise it. My feelings about this were the reason I chose not to name either of my sons after me.

At some point, I demanded to be called “Walt.” It took awhile to make the change. People continued to call me Little Walter for years, even after I surpassed my father’s height. There was only one person I didn’t ask to call me Walt. That was my Grandmother. My grandfather went by “Walt.” There was only one “Walt” in my grandmother’s life. I thought that was how it should be. If she wanted to call me Walt, she could.

Last Sunday evening, I tucked my son in as I usually do. And, I called him by name.

He smiled back at me. “Dad, you can call me Squirt. Just don’t do it in public.”

Thankfully, he prefers the Cartoon Network website to my blogsite on the computer.

Goodnight, Squirt.

So, what nicknames did you have for your kids and when did they start requesting a change?

Hijinks at the Rink

2011-04-12T07:00:00.002-04:00

Among the many hobbies I have or have had at one time in my life, there is one that until recently I have not participated in since our arrival in Georgia over five years ago.

I like to ice skate.

I didn’t grow up ice skating. I started while I lived in Japan in the 90s. (Yes, I know. Some people pick up kendo, flower arranging, or some other local sounding interest. I started ice skating.) I found it relaxing because it took all my concentration to not go splat at first. In other words, I forgot about everything else. I started one summer, finding a rink in downtown Osaka. I used to skate about every other week or so, taking the subway into town. I wore the largest skates the rink had. They weren’t the right size. However, the leather had stretched after continued usage, so I could get my feet in them. When the weather got colder, a winter only rink opened up much closer to my residence. I ended up going every week. On a vacation trip to the U.S., I bought myself a pair of skates. When the winter rink closed and I started taking the train back to Osaka, I discovered the rink downtown had purchased an extra large pair of skates just for me.

I kept up the hobby after I returned to the U.S. for good. My wife and I lived in Portland after we got married. There was a rink near the house and we occasionally took the kids. However, when we moved to Atlanta, I couldn’t find a rink nearby. I knew there had to be one. But, between work and all the kids’ other activities, I never really looked. I stored my skates in the basement, where they sat for several years.

A few weeks ago, my wife found my skates while we were cleaning. She suggested getting rid of them. I wasn’t ready.

Then my wife found a rink over spring break. My younger son, in particular, got excited about the discovery. He loves to watch hockey and has a Thrashers calendar on the wall. So, with a rink discovered, we scheduled a family night out last Friday.

It turned into a boys’ night out as my wife wasn’t up to it. We went to the rink. I laced up my skates and helped my boys get ready as well. Then I got on the ice. At first, the muscles didn’t work like I remembered. I could skate forwards and backwards but felt every turn. I also tried quick direction changes, amazed that I didn’t collide with someone. I skated with the boys and tried to help them. My teenager could get around and didn’t need my help, but he was still timid on the ice. My nine-year-old spent most of the night hugging the side. Eventually, he moved onto the ice in order to play with another kid about his age (as well as get away from the other kid’s little sister).

The two hour night session passed quickly. The rink closed appropriately with Michael Jackson’s “Off the Wall” and Ray Charles’s “Hit the Road, Jack.” However, my kids declared they wanted to return soon. I promised we would.

What things have you wanted to do for a long time that you haven’t done?

Two First Class Performances

2011-04-05T07:00:00.001-04:00

When I was a kid, I was active in Cub Scouts. I earned about every award you could earn. Eventually, the church that supported my Cub Scout troop decided to start a Boy Scout troop. I was one of the first to go into it.

That troop lasted about two years before folding.

And during those two years, I earned a few merit badges. In the progression to Eagle, I earned the rank of Second Class Scout. I had a long way to go. (For those of you unfamiliar with the ranks, it’s Scout-Tenderfoot-Second Class-First Class-Star-Life-Eagle.) When my troop folded, I could have joined one of many other troops available. However, I never felt the desire to join one of them. I was too busy with other things. A couple of years later, I tried volunteering with my own church’s troop. However, I was still too busy. I couldn’t maintain a commitment.

My older son is involved in scouting. He enjoys it a lot. He didn’t start until he was a Webelo, but he has been active. He works on merit badges. I think he’s up to thirteen now.

More importantly, he recently just earned a new rank. He became a First Class Scout. Yep, he surpassed his old man. And I couldn’t be happier.

He’s already strategizing about how to make Eagle. He’s volunteered to work on his first service project. He’s going to camp this summer to earn merit badges that are required for Eagle. He may eventually make it some day.

Scouting isn’t the only place where he’s exceeded what I could do. He also loves baseball and is still playing both in the fall and in the spring. Like scouting, he started playing baseball late, too. However, he’s been at it for a few years now. When he started, he had trouble hitting.

He didn’t give up.

Over time, he got better. We’re now about halfway through the spring. He doesn’t usually hit the ball very hard. Still, he gets on base at least once per game. More impressive is that he rarely strikes out. Instead, he puts the ball in play. He struck out in the most recent game. That was only after three two-strike foul balls.

As for me, I had enough trouble putting wood on the ball. I stunk as a hitter.

I’m proud of my son and what he has accomplished. I hope he knows how much.

Parable of the Mustard Dog

2011-03-29T07:00:00.007-04:00

“Dad, where does mustard come from?”

I chuckled at my younger son’s question, coming after Sunday school last weekend. “So let me guess. Did you talk about the parable of the mustard seed in class?”

My son acknowledged it and then asked the something else. “So what’s the mustard seed about?”

“Well,” I said, feeling a teaching moment, “the mustard seed is small. However, after you plant it, it grows into a huge plant. It means with a little faith, you can do big things. Jesus once said that if you have the faith the size of a mustard seed you could move a mountain.”

He tilted his head. “Well, if you get a big plant do you get a lot more seeds?”

I mulled it over. It made sense. “I think so. We can look it up when we get home?”

“Okay. What’s for lunch?”

“How about hot dogs?”

He nodded with a grin. “Can I have mustard on them?” “Sure,” I said and it was my turn to smile. My boys love a lot of different foods, but neither of them has ever put mustard on anything. They eat their hot dogs with chili and their hamburgers with ketchup. I’ve always wondered why they didn’t like mustard. As a kid, I loved the basic kind of mustard. I used to mix it with ketchup, calling it “muschup,” and put it on French fries. As an adult, I grew to enjoy more traditional, spicy types. Still, up until that morning, both my kids avoided it and nothing I could do would change their mind. If a parable was enough to make one of them try it, I would forever think “The Lord does work in mysterious ways.”

When lunchtime arrived, I quickly prepared hot dogs for both my kids. We squirted some mustard on my younger son’s plate so he could dip the dogs into it. He took one taste.

His face told the story. I hoped I was wrong. “Do you like it?”

He shook his head and I sighed. He’d tried it. No go. He did finish his hot dogs. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t give it a second taste.

I thought it was over until he asked. “Dad, did people in the Bible eat mustard?”

“Probably.” He nodded again and I said nothing more. It wasn’t the time to push it. I knew the seed had been planted for another day.

On Japan
A good friend of ours, Noriko Okubo, has co-founded a charity that targets helping children hurt by the devastating events in Japan. If you have a moment, please click here to be taken to that website. Thank you.

Thinking of Japan

2011-03-22T07:00:00.003-04:00

I don’t remember much of that morning. I do remember turning on the TV and seeing the news. When the headlines flashed, I immediately ran upstairs to wake up my wife and tell her what happened.

“Honey, a magnitude 8.9 quake struck northeast Japan.”

My wife was already rolling out of bed. “Yes, I know. I could hear the TV up here.”

I don’t know how much time we spent watching TV that day. We were glued to it with every moment we had. And as the evening drew on, we stayed up late watching the news.

Over the course of the next few days we were able to contact friends and family. We also received well wishes from many friends here, hoping that everyone we knew was okay. We were sure family members were fine. We don't know anyone in the area in the area that was hardest hit. My wife does have an uncle in Tokyo and we have friends there as well. No one injured. We have other family and friends in Osaka (west southwest of Tokyo) on the main island, and in Fukuoka, on the southernmost of Japan’s four main islands.
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Still, our hearts went out to those enduring the suffering. For me, I kept thinking about the passenger trains that were washed out to sea. Riding along the Pacific coastline of Japan is a beautiful ride. I can’t imagine what people went through as they watched the tsunami coming toward them and realized there was no way out.

I’ve added a few links for donations, if anyone is interested. Below that, I’ve set up links of my family’s trip to Japan back in 2008. I hope you enjoy the beauty of the place I once called home for four years.

For the Japanese embassy’s website, click here.

My good friend, Jeannie Lin, has self-published a Japan-related short story titled "Pieces of Paper." Proceeds will go to relief efforts. Click here to go to Jeannie's website.

For an auction from Children’s Authors and Illustrators, click here.

For a Time news article that offers various suggestions for giving, click here.

If you can, please give.

Below is Day-by-Day review of our trip in 2008. As I've combined two blogs into one, there are other columns in between. I hope it's not confusing.

Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10
Day 11
Day 12
Day 13

How Not to Throw Out Ham

2011-03-15T07:00:00.001-04:00

“Dad, you made me a ham sandwich.”

I slapped my hand to my forehead as I realized the implication of what my nine-year old son had just said. It’s not that he doesn’t like ham sandwiches. He eats them all the time. But when I made his lunch that Friday morning, I’d forgotten that it’s Lent.

My younger son is preparing for his First Holy Communion. For those of you who aren’t Catholic, that’s when you can accept bread and wine in church. (Actually, there’s a lot more to it than that, but this isn’t meant to be a religious dissertation.) He’s been preparing for two years and he will be able to finally take communion in May. So, he’s been learning a lot.

One of the things he’s been focused on is the “no meat on Fridays rule” for Lent. So, with a baseball game last Friday night and knowing we would be ordering pizza for dinner, he knew there was only one option. My sausage and pepperoni loving son split the toppings with his brother, half pineapple and half extra cheese.

I was immediately embarrassed when I realized what had happened. However, my wife had a different reaction. “What did you do with the ham?”

“I tossed it.”

“You just ate bread?”

My wife and I were both a little perplexed. I appreciated his dedication, but I didn’t want him to starve in school. However, my little guy was determined. He also must have noticed the expression on our faces.

“Well, I ate half of the ham.”

The updated response brought a mixture of relief and guilt, but my wife and I have been discussing it since. What meatless entrée could he take? Peanut butter sandwiches are out. He has allergies. We could try it with a grilled cheese but it might not be good by lunch time. A cheese sandwich on its own is dull.

We know we have until Friday to figure this out. However, my little guy is focused on bigger things.

Like dinner.

Realizing that fish can be on the menu, he's asking for sushi every Friday until after Easter. We told him that defeats the purpose. To him, sushi is like steak. It’s a way to celebrate. And it makes no sense to abstain from meat, only to substitute it with something that makes your mouth water anyway.

Any suggestions?

The Teenage Gentleman

2011-03-08T07:00:00.000-05:00

I have the pleasure of working from home several times during the week. I have to admit I enjoy this perk, especially in times of skyrocketing gas prices.

However, I also enjoy it for another reason. I get to take my kids to school.

For my younger son, I usually find myself dropping him off at a normal time. This means I line up with the other parents, climbing that small hill to the zone where a couple of teachers wait at the side entrance to make sure that the kids who are let off make it into the building.

For my older son, though, it’s a different story.

My older son, a music lover, goes to school early to participate. This means when I take my 13-year old to school, there isn’t any faculty around. On those days I wait until he gets inside the school before I leave. I notice I’m not the only parent who does this. Sometimes, he waves me away and tells me to get going. Most of the time he just puts up with me.

Last Friday, though. I noticed something else. As my son approached the school door, there were two girls coming up behind him. I guessed they were 8th graders. (They were both taller than my son and they looked older.) Then I realized my son noticed them, too. At the door, my son stopped, pulled open the door, and held it open so the two girls could walk through first.

I got a little pride at this at first and I didn’t know why. I was watching my teenage son show manners. It’s not like I haven’t seen him do it before. At church each week, he holds the door open for his Mom and me. (Showing respect for one’s elders. Always a plus.) But to watch him do that at school, it struck me as being a little different.

So, being the typical Dad, I do what any Dad would do, I told my wife.

“Honey, you’ll never guess what our son did.”

My wife’s response.

“That’s amazing. I wonder where he learned it from.”

And of course, I Tweeted it and posted it on Facebook. And the people who grew up with me wondered where my son got it from, too.

And of course, I mentioned it to my son. His response to say that it was no big deal.

And then he asked me not to post it on my blog.

Oh well. He probably won’t read this post anyway.

Can You "Do" Dinner?

2011-03-01T07:00:00.002-05:00

I’m writing this from the McDonald’s on Indian Trail just off of I-85. The storm is coming down hard and instead of trying to wing it all the way home when my radio keeps beeping in with warnings from the Emergency Broadcast System, I thought I would pull over and wait it out.

Leave it to me pick a Mickey D’s with its cappuccino machine undergoing a cleaning at the wrong time.

And while getting home at a reasonable hour is now up there somewhere with the hope of winning some contest where I get free Super Bowl tickets for the rest of my life, I do know that I’ll get home eventually.

However, I won’t get to share any dinner time with my kids.

Granted, it was going to be short anyway. My older son was supposed to go to practice tonight to pick up his uniform so they could confirm the sizes. (I say supposed to as I checked my e-mail and practice has been cancelled. His first game is this weekend. I know he can’t wait.) Short dinners happen sometimes. I get home from work, get a few minutes to sit with my kids, and then they’re off to practice or a Scout meeting. Most of the time, though, we get a nice sit-down meal. And after a hard day at work, having that dinner meal with my family takes on special meaning.

A couple of weeks ago, my pastor brought up in his sermons about how the family meal he had growing up was a time to chat and reconnect with family. Dinner was always at 5:00 for his family. Nobody was late and nobody was ever done in 15 minutes. His mother worked hard to prepare good meals and everyone sat down and enjoyed it and then they talked. My wife works hard to provide great meals for us every day, too. (My nine-year old has begged her to open a restaurant.) And though we’re not at the table for two hours like my pastor said he used to be, dinner is still a time for my family to be together. A time to chill. A time to relax.

I really enjoy those moments with family. Some of the most special dinners I’ve had though are on evenings when I was late. Atlanta traffic can be challenging at times. And on nights when I’m thankful that I’m not the one caught in the accident that’s slowing things down, the commute is so bad that dinner goes cold. It’s on those nights I’m often greeted with a smiling face at the garage entrance door, and the sight of happy, starving kids who told their Mom that they wanted to wait for Dad to get home.

Dinner may be something people do every day. (Yes, I know that means people “do” dinner as opposed to “eat” dinner.) But sometimes it is the best meal of the day.

My Latest Gadget

2011-02-22T07:00:00.002-05:00

“Put that away before Daddy steps on it.”

My wife has uttered the above words more than I can remember. The kids are always leaving things on the floor. She has warned them repeatedly that I can’t see past my kneecaps. My older son has learned. (The wisdom that comes with age.) My younger son not so much.

However, the floor is not the only place. My younger son still leaves stuff on tables and chairs where it can get knocked off, covered, spilled on. Anything goes.

And just today, my wife was saying, “Guess what I found on the table while you were out. I can’t believe you just got that and you didn’t put it back in its protective case.”

Only this time she was talking to me. And the item I left out? My new glasses.

After 40+ years of being able to read fine print directly in front of me of from across a room, I finally reached the point where I started having to hold stuff at arm’s length. I knew it was coming. My parents both had fantastic vision (or so they told me) until a certain age. When I crossed that threshold, I knew it was only a matter of time. I lasted a couple of years longer than they did, but I couldn’t put it off forever.

So, I went to see my local eye doctor, and I got what he called a mild prescription. They’re just for reading. And when I put them on, I don’t need to enlarge the text on my Nook.

So, while reading one night, I put them down on the end table, and I left them open in the case.

It took my wife less than half a Sunday morning to notice I’d left them out. She let me know immediately.

Her only comment? “We did buy the indestructible pair for a reason.”

The comments about me being just like the other boys in the house came later. They always do.

RBI

2011-02-15T07:00:00.000-05:00

Baseball practice has officially started in this house. My teenage son has been selected to the Pony League Tigers. My nine-year old son has been selected to the Minor League Reds. It will be a big adjustment for my younger son, who for the first time is playing in a league with kids a year older than he is.

They’ve been practicing for a while since the weather warmed up and even a little bit before. My younger son loves pitching and playing third base. He wanted to practice pitching so bad that I took him to field in 30-degree weather with off-an-on rain. We got about 40 pitches done before I couldn’t take the cold anymore. He’s looking forward to getting back on the mound.

However, practicing third base takes a different strategy.

For balls hit to third base at this age, getting someone out at first is a challenge. However, there’s something equally important: stopping kids at third base from running home. To work on this, we created a game. My son calls it RBI. (For those of you not into baseball, *RBI is an acronym that means "Runs Batted In." If you're the batter and your time at bat results in someone on your team scoring, the you are credited with an RBI.) We stand on the driveway about 60-70 feet apart. My older son stands next to my younger son. I throw the ball hard on the ground, mimicking a sharp grounder. My older son runs as fast as he can towards me. My younger son fields the ball and throws it to me so I can tag my older son.

It’s not an easy game. When trying to field, my Chipper Jones wannabe often misses the grounder or drops it when trying to transfer it from it from his glove to his hand. If my older son isn’t running and just counts out loud, then my younger son fields the ball easily and gets it to me. So there is something about having to throw his brother out and that really makes my nine-year old nervous.

Oddly, though, the game affects my older son, too. My older son isn’t the fastest of runners. (A problem of genetics. His dad is slow, too.) But, when he tries to beat out his younger brother’s throws, he finds a new gear that at least lets him shift into medium.

I’ve stressed to him that he needs to run like this on the field. He needs to run like he’s trying to beat out his brother. He needs to run like it matters to him.

I don’t know yet how successful I will be.

But if I can improve the game of both of them at the same time, I can at least be a successful Dad.

*For the purists among you, if you hit into a double play or reach base due to an error, then you do not get credit for an RBI.

The Creaking You Never Planned For

2011-02-08T07:00:00.000-05:00

“Is that our new exercise machine making that noise?” my wife asked, her voice carrying from the den to the loft.
“No, Honey,” I replied, “just my knees.”

Yes, we have a new exercise machine. There are a lot on them on the market and you can’t flip channels without seeing the latest “Ab-something-or-other” that promises to give you cut abs or eliminate your gut. These are the small items.

On the other end of the scale there are big items like treadmills. When I go to a gym, I often work on treadmills. When I see people with treadmills in their home, I get jealous. I’ve long wanted one. I just always thought it would be too big for the house.

But that’s a cop out. The truth is I know I wouldn’t make enough of a habit of it.

Prior to this purchase, the only thing I’d ever bought for exercise was a Pilates DVD. I got into the habit for awhile, even buying an advanced Pilates DVD. My wife got me a mat to work out on. And I did Pilates for several months, but I fell out of the habit. So if I bought some kind of machine, I’d probably use it for a few months and then it would become a large dust magnet.

Leave it to my one of my kids to push me into exercising.

While watching QVC one night, I saw a reasonably priced elliptical machine. I wanted it but couldn’t make a decision. And then my nine-year old football/baseball playing younger son decided to spend his birthday money on it.

As a Dad, I couldn’t let that happen. I told him I’d split the cost with him. We could get in shape together. He loved the idea.

A few days later, the elliptical doohickey arrived. I assembled it and he jumped on it immediately, burning off 500 calories with a smile. I stepped onto it and had trouble keeping my balance. My wife feared I would fall off.

That was three weeks ago.

My younger son has been on it a couple of times. My wife and I are already telling him that he needs to use it more since he bought it. I’ve averaging about three times a week, but I’m out of shape. I am getting better at my keeping my balance.

My older son, who wasn’t involved in the purchase, uses it every day. I’m glad someone’s getting use out of it.

But the best thing though is that we found a new use for the Pilates mat. We put the new machine on top of it.

How about you? Do you buy things and then worry about ever actually using them?

Growing Up

2011-02-01T07:00:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite parts of my church service is a part referred to as the “Sign of Peace.” When the time comes, we turn to our fellow parishioners, shake their hands, and say “Peace be with you.” The first person I look at with this happens is my wife. I always give her a kiss. Then, I hug both my sons, kiss them on the top of their heads, and say “Peace Be With You.”

Lately, my older son has taken issue with this. During church last Sunday, this scene was greeted with a “Dad, I’m getting too old for this.”

It’s not the first time he’s said this. (And, as he’s getting taller, kissing him on the top of the head isn’t as easy as it used to be.) It started one morning when I took him to school. I often work from home and sometimes I get the pleasure of taking my kids to school. When I took both of them to elementary school, I could tell them I love them and get a small hug. Granted, it wasn’t a big hug as they were in the back seat and I was in the front. Still, I loved sending them off every morning with a hug.

But now, my older son is in middle school.

He started there a year ago and is now in seventh grade. He’s involved with the school’s jazz band and honors band, which practices before school starts. When I drop him off, I always make sure he gets in the building before I leave. Eventually, he got old enough to ride in front. The good thing about this was that I could give him a bigger hug. Until recently.

I knew it had to come to end soon. He’s a teenager. I’m supposed to be an idiot in his eyes for at least the next seven or eight years. I’ll miss the hug.

All is not lost. I do have a nine-year old. He still lets me do things like tuck him in.

But the days are waning fast.

When A Nine-Year Old Son Takes Over a Blog

2011-01-25T07:01:00.001-05:00

One of the biggest joys in being a writer is reading the writing efforts of your kids. My younger son, a good storyteller, recently brought home this laminated assignment. Even with grimacing flashes of Randy Johnson and spring training in my head, along with apologies to the ASPCA, I found this story funny. So did my wife. I hope you enjoy it, too. I’ve left the story as he wrote it, though I did correct the spellings of two words.

As my wife catches misspelled words in my posts, I have no room to talk.

With that, my 9-year old, tired of me talking about him, takes over today’s post.

The Time My Bus Driver Hit a Bird

That day oh that day was one thing that I would never forget.

That day started out as any other day. I woke up. I ate my breakfast and I commuted to school. I just sat there doing boring work as always. Sheesh why doesn’t anything fun happen.

That is when I wish I never said that.

Then soon it was time to go home. I walk to the bus as fast as I could. When I got on my bus, it started to leave. Then we were in my neighborhood.

Smack!

What is that thing? I rubbed my eyes and looked again. It was a bird!

My bus driver stopped. She said, “who is making noise!?” She thought it was absurd.

She walked up to me. She said, “was it you?”

“No! You hit a bird!”

She looked out the window and saw a dead bird.

Bus clipart taken from http://www.clker.com/. This art is considered in the public domain.

O Christmas Tree

2011-01-18T07:00:00.001-05:00

“Where’s your Christmas tree?” my 9-year old son asked his great aunt last weekend when we at her house.
“Oh, we took it in already. It’s probably in the chipper.”
A horrified look crossed my son’s face. I intervened, smiling “Don’t worry. The tree’s been…recycled. It’s being put to good use.”
My son looked down, heartbroken, while I quickly explained things to my aunt.
“He got really attached to our tree this year. It was like “his.”

My son did consider the tree “his.” We shopped early, picking it out at Lowe’s.” We pulled several trees out of the pile, twirling them around to check for bare spots. Each time, I got sap or some other gunky substance on my hand. Every time, we found something wrong.

Finally, my little guy pointed at one over on the side. “How about this one?”

I picked it up and showcased it to the family. It was hard to tell at first. There didn’t look to be any bare spots, but since the trees are all packed tightly with their branches up, it takes time to know if the branches will fall into place. It looked good, but we still hadn’t decided

“Let’s get it,” he said.

My wife still wanted to look at more, but something in this tree (other than the gunk) held me, at least enough to where I held on to it. As I picked up other trees, I maintained my grasp on the one my son had chosen.

And then my wife noticed something.

There were several families shopping for trees. However, it appeared that two of them were staring at us, watching the exchange. It wasn’t like we were in the way.

They wanted the tree now stuck to my hand.

Eventually, my son’s opinion won out and we took his choice of trees home, setting it up in the usual spot. We decorated it over the course of three days. By the time the trees branches had relaxed, we discovered there wasn’t a bare spot on it.

After Christmas, we went to visit family for a few days and then took the tree down after we came home. It was time to take it a place where it could be recycled. I asked my younger son if he wanted to come with me.

He turned me down. He didn’t want to say goodbye to the tree.

I tied the tree to the top of the car and dropped it off at Home Depot (the tree, not the car) and returned home (washing tree gunk off my hands again).

My little guy was sad. He missed the tree.

My wife and I did, too. It was the definitely the best tree we’d ever had.

Three for TCU

2011-01-12T14:40:00.001-05:00

And so ends what is probably the greatest season in Auburn history. As an Auburn fan, I can’t remember a season so fraught with angst and relief. I’ve read about great seasons, seen great seasons, and yet none will stick with me like this one. Out of fourteen games, the team trailed in nine of them, four times by double digits. The Alabama game will provide lasting memories, second only to the National Championship win over Oregon.

So many things could have gone wrong in that game. A lot did. Each time Auburn gets this close, it feels like something goes wrong. Had Auburn lost this year, that hit the referee put on one of our defenders in the 4th quarter would have ranked up there with a long line of “almosts.”

A lot has been written about this championship and I’ll admit I’ve read most of it. A late night watching the game, along with a busy day at work, did not allow for time to pen my post until now. However, when I saw the final numbers for AP, I noted that three voters had picked TCU as #1.

I flashed back to 2004, when Auburn had been shut out of playing for the National Championship, despite having an undefeated season. The lone hope that something might come out of it was that the AP would rebel and crown Auburn. It was a possibility. But when I saw the poll the next day, I saw Auburn still in second. However, only three voters had gone against the trend and voted Auburn first place.

That’s right. The same number of AP voters that picked TCU #1 also chose Auburn #1.

I know it wasn’t the same three people. I knew one of the AP voters that voted for Auburn in 2004. He gave it up after that season, citing it as not being “fun” anymore. Still, I thought seeing the same number of votes now as then as strange.

I don’t begrudge TCU their votes. They earned them. They had a wonderful season. Like Auburn, they deserved a shot to play for it all and didn’t get it. Somewhere in the 4th quarter of the USC-OK Championship game, USC fans began a classless “Auburn -----“ cheer. I don’t remember hearing anything like that during the postgame of this year’s championship.

However, I do remember hearing one cheer. While the ESPN broadcasters were giving their analysis, one could hear it in the background. That one cheer that is always there, win or lose, after every game.

It’s great – to be – an Auburn Tiger. It’s great – to be – an Auburn Tiger. It’s great – to be – an Auburn Tiger.

Yes, it is.

And, to TCU and Oregon, it's also great to be both a Horned Frog and a Duck

The First Snow of the Year

2011-01-11T07:00:00.000-05:00

My sons are happy.

It snowed in Atlanta and it couldn’t have come at a better time. Like their Dad, they’re Auburn fans. My wife would say it was forced upon them. But with school out today and also tomorrow, my boys got to spend Monday during the day playing in the snow.

They got to spend the night staying up late and watching Auburn play football.

And they spent the evening staying up late and watching Auburn football.

I’m posting this prior to the game kickoff. Hopefully, I’ll be celebrating an Auburn victory.

Either way, I’m celebrating a wonderful season…and some happy kids.

Yes, that is an igloo.

Santa in a Box

2011-01-04T07:00:00.000-05:00

“Daddy, I don’t think Santa Claus is real anymore.”

I was in our basement, assembling one of those indoor basketball shooting games. It requires three people to assemble, one to screw things in and two to hold things in place, so my boys were helping. There were times when I didn’t need their help, so they played with some of the other toys in the basement.

And then my eight-year old found a box.

My wife and I had hidden his gift from Santa, an electrically-powered dirt bike, in a section of the basement he wouldn’t check. It was behind some things and under a blanket. He hadn’t seen it prior to Christmas. I’d assembled it sometime after midnight on December 23rd (technically Christmas Eve), got it charging (it takes 18 hours), and just kept him out of the basement on Christmas Eve. Sometime about 12:30 a.m. Christmas Day, I brought it up. He woke up about 1:00 a.m. and found it.

I knew, though, when I assembled the dirt bike, that getting the box outside was going to be a challenge. We were traveling after Christmas to visit family and would miss garbage day. I would have to hide it until I could dispose of it. I chose the same place I hid the gift.

It wasn’t good enough.

“What do you mean you don’t think he’s ‘real anymore?’”

“I found the box for my Christmas gift.”

My heart skipped a beat. I’d expected that this would be the last year of him believing, though I’d hoped for one more year. My wife and I had discussed this. We knew from discussions with other parents that the kids were getting older. (Actually, my wife was talking with the other moms about whether or not their kids still believed and then telling me.)

Like the Grinch, I thought of a lie and thought it up quick.

“Of course,” I said. “Santa can’t carry the boxes everywhere. He assembled it in the basement, so that he wouldn’t get any oil or grease on the carpet. Can you imagine what Mom would say if he had?”

My son nodded his head. “Yeah, Mom would be mad.” He went back to helping me put together his latest gift.

Until next year.

Have you had years where you didn't get rid of the evidence quickly enough? What did you do?

Football

2010-12-28T07:00:00.000-05:00

My wife has put up with me watching football for years.

I've tended to be a college football follower so it's been a good year for me as my beloved Auburn Tigers are this year's SEC Champions and playing for the National Championship. However, good or bad, my wife has put up with me.

However, this post has nothing to do with college football.

It's Monday night, December 27, and I'm watching the Falcons play the Saints.

The most amazing thing is that my wife is watching the game, too. She's even cheering them on.
In 15+ years of marriage, I've never seen her like this

It's not to say my wife has become a total football fan. She could pretty much still care less about the NFL in general. But after a season of watching our son play football, living and dying with our 8-year old's season, she's picked up on football as well.

And she's become a Falcons fan.

Granted, our 8-year old takes it a little more seriously. He can name many of the players just by their numbers. My wife is a long way from that.

But my wife now wants to watch football, at least occasionally.

It's a start.

The Littlest Actor

2010-12-21T07:00:00.000-05:00

Every family has a story that keeps on giving, one that will be retold for the rest of their days. This is ours. And while I have run it on previous Christmases, I hope you won't mind if I run it again. It occurred a few years ago, when we lived in Oregon. May you Christmas worship time be memorable to you.

Every Christmas Eve, my wife and I take our sons to the children’s service at our church. The service includes a kids’ pageant and our boys seem to pay closer attention than they do during the typical church service. Also, we feel that attending Mass on Christmas Eve provides a wonderful way to begin the holiday. After the service is over, we go out to dinner to the one place open on Christmas Eve, a Chinese restaurant. While my wife and I believe every family Christmas is special, we cannot conceive that any will be more memorable than this one.

It was to be a big night as our older son, Andrew, was finally old enough to participate in the Christmas pageant. He enjoyed two rehearsals and getting into costume, admirably playing the role of a shepherd. Because church seating at Christmas is limited and we wanted to take pictures, we arrived almost an hour early to get a seat up front.

We knew it would be difficult to keep our pre-school age son, Christopher, seated for the long service and the time before it. Therefore, my wife saved our seats while I played with Christopher and kept him entertained. When it was close to time, I corralled him and took him to our seats; he sat on my wife’s lap and anxiously looked for his older brother and the start of the show.

Just before the beginning of the pageant, the stuffy air in the crowded church became a little more unbearable than usual. As there were several babies in the immediate vicinity, my wife and I both thought one of them must have needed changing. Catching the odor, Christopher said aloud, “What’s that smell?” He turned around, looked at his Mom, and said, “That’s disgusting! Mommy, you stink! Mommy, go to the bathroom!”

We did our best to quiet him down, while the people around us were suppressing their laughter. He continued on, repeating the words, “That’s disgusting! Mommy, you stink! Mommy, go to the bathroom!” Eventually, Christopher quieted down and the pageant began.

After Mass ended, we walked to the car, buckled the kids in, and drove away. On the way to the Chinese restaurant, my wife and I discussed the incident. She realized that the words Christopher used in church were the same ones she had used with him during his potty training. Also, we were convinced one of the babies close to us during the service must have had a poopy diaper or probably just passed gas. We chuckled about it.

However, our little guy provided the last laugh. Overhearing the discussion, Christopher, with the smile that only a young child can produce, piped up with one more comment, “Oh, in church? That was me.”

Daddy's Little Teacher

2010-12-14T07:00:00.000-05:00

“Daddy, can I have miso soup and rice for lunch?”

It was Sunday morning and we were nearly home after attending Sunday school. We would get an hour or so to relax before heading back to church for services. My eight-year old, starving, requested his favorite meal.

“We’ll see,” I said.

I laughed inwardly at his request. It’s not that the request is funny. All kids have a favorite dish of some kind. My kids are no different. However, as my wife is Japanese, she has cooked Japanese food for our kids since they were babies. Their favorite dishes are a slew of items that none of their friends have ever heard of. My 8-year old once invited one of the neighbor kids for miso and rice. (For some reason, the little boy declined.)

My son loves miso soup so much that he follows his Mom around the kitchen whenever she makes it. However, with me doing the honors this Sunday morning, he decided I needed a little help.

We started the rice, tossing a couple of cupfuls in the rice cooker, prepping it, and getting it going. Then it was time for the soup.

“Ok, Daddy. Here’s the pot. Boil some water. Once it boils, we need to put in the fish stock and the miso.” He then retrieved both items from the fridge. “We need a spoonful of this” he added pointing to the stock. “And three spoonfuls of miso.”

“Alright,” I said, letting him take the lead.

As the water came to a boil, my son searched the room. “Dad, we need tofu.”

I checked the fridge and pulled some out. I prepared to cut it when my son stopped me. “Dad, Mom always lets me do it.”

“OK. What should we do?”

“We put it on a small cut-thingy—“

“You mean a cutting board?”

Yes, a cutting board.”

I grabbed a cutting board from a drawer under the stove and handed it to him whereby he dumped the tofu onto the board. “Now, Dad, we do it this way so we can scrape it off the board into the soup with a knife after we cut it.”

I nodded and let him demonstrate. He sliced the tofu into chunks and then checked the pot. “OK, water’s boiling.” He added the fish stock and stirred, making sure it was mixed, then added the tofu. “We let it cook a little, then we add the miso.”

I’d been an observer most of the time. I saw no reason to change. Two huge spoonfuls of miso later, he made an announcement. “Dad, we need to taste it.”

We each had a spoonful. “Good job,” I said.

“Da-a-ad, it’s too salty.”

My wife entered the kitchen at that moment and tasted it herself, and concurred with Julian Child, adding more water to it and suggesting we cook it longer. Finally, he pronounced it ready.

The rice cooker beeped and we sat down for lunch. My little chef, impressed with himself, ate heartily.

“And that’s how you make miso soup,” he said.

I thanked him, recalling days long ago when he was much younger. Maybe one day I’ll actually tell him that I used to make miso soup for him on days when my wife was due home late from the office.

Nah, I’ll leave it like this.

A Spritz of Lemon

2010-12-07T01:00:00.000-05:00

For the second time in two weeks, I started drinking water with a spritz of lemon in the morning.

I started it the day after Thanksgiving, when I got up, still stuffed from the previous day, and immediately glommed onto that headline on msn.com about to ensure that the Thanksgiving meal isn’t a permanent fixture to your body.

The first recommendation was water with lemon. Apparently, it helps detoxify your body and clean it out. I’d never heard of that before but was willing to try anything.

However, no matter what you’re willing to try, you still have to step on the scale. It took me nearly six days before I finally willed my body back onto that digital time bomb that always sounds like it’s on its last circuit. When I looked down at it, I was pleasantly surprised. I was back to where I’d started the week before Thanksgiving.

Then came this past weekend.

My wife and younger son went to a Santa Claus Christmas party at my younger sister’s. It’s an annual event. Each year, however, it’s always missing a few dads, the fathers whose alma mater is playing in the SEC Championship.

It’s not that the dads go to the game. However, it’s impossible to watch a football game with a lot of young children running around. I had a couple of friends over. My wife fixed a spread for us.

And by the next day I was drinking the lemon water again.

I know there are various events throughout the Christmas season. And I’ll have a few more days to pig out. There will also be the Christmas day feast as well as various wonderful gatherings with plates of food everywhere and me wondering if I’m going to have pull the fat jeans off the shelf in my closet.

It’s unavoidable. I’ve yet to possess the willpower to push myself away from the table. I would try to exercise more, but with the temperature dropping, my outside activity will grow more limited. At my annual physical last January, my doctor looked at me and asked. “Are you getting enough exercise? Have you tried walking more?”

“Doc,” I said, “it’s ten degrees outside. How much walking are you doing?”

She conceded the point.

So, readers, what are you doing? How are you fighting the holiday pounds now that joyous Christmas season is upon us?

One More Game

2010-12-05T11:48:00.000-05:00

I'm late posting today. I'm just dead tired.

Three down. One to go.

In defeating South Carolina in what was the most lopsided game in SEC Championship history, we finished off our “third” championship in three straight games. The victory over Georgia made us SEC Western Division champions. The victory over Alabama gave us the mythical championship within the state of Alabama (as well as undefeated regular season which no pundit predicted would happen this year). Our second win over USC gave us the SEC Championship.

And now one game remains.

For so many years, things have gone wrong to deny us a shot at the national title. Pat Dye got close four times, but never got over the hump. The two years that stand out the most are ’83 and ’87. In ’83, Auburn faced what is probably the most difficult schedule in its history and went 11-1 with a Sugar Bowl victory over Michigan. However, Miami, a team who’d faced a far weaker schedule than Auburn and was ranked below Auburn, got a shot at that year’s giant, Nebraska. They played them in what was a home game in the Orange Bowl, beat them 31-30, and leapt over Auburn into the championship slot.

In ’87, we lost at LSU 7-6 in the earthquake game. We’d been in the RZ twice in the first half, but could only muster field goals. Late in the 4th quarter, it came back to bite us. And there have been others, I don’t have to recite them. We all know them.

Now we have our shot.

I am putting the cart before the proverbial horse. The announcement hasn’t been made. That will occur tonight. But with four straight national champions coming out of the SEC, only the most monumental of lobbying and turnarounds could keep Auburn out of Glendale this year.

And there are those who still say we should be disqualified. They cite the Cam Newton scandal as an aberration that will taint things if Auburn wins. The Big 10 and the Big 12 have been lobbying hard against Auburn. Let’s recognize that for what it is. In the Big 10’s case, it’s the realization that if Auburn is taken out of the equation, then a 1-loss Big 10 team might prevail over an undefeated TCU team. For the Big 12, it’s about trying to stay relevant when your conference is falling apart.

As for this game, I admit I was a little nervous. South Carolina has exorcised a lot of demons this season. They wanted to exorcise one more. They were playing well. (I felt less nervous when Lee Corso and Lou Holtz picked the Gamecocks, but that’s to be expected.)

When Auburn started looking to do a repeat of Alabama’s performance in the Iron Bowl, dropping sure TD passes and having plays called back, I got nervous when the score got close at 21-14.

And then Newton and Auburn delivered a 1st half Hail Mary that will live forever in Auburn lore. Such was the dagger in the heart of USC’s momentum. When they missed a FG to open the 2nd half, the game could have been called then.

We will head into the next 37 days with no wanting Auburn to me. The Reggie Bush scandal still fresh with everyone, pundits have hoped for Auburn to get beat somewhere. The pundits celebrated with Georgia’s and Alabama’s early game leads. “No one wants a repeat of Southern Cal,” so they condemn Auburn.

Yes, supposedly the incident about Cecil Newton should have vacated Auburn’s wins. Yet, how do you square it with Auburn having done nothing wrong yet getting punished.

It looks like the NCAA chose absolution over an absolute.

Nobody wants Auburn to beat Oregon except Auburn fans. That’s okay. It’s been that way for many of Auburn’s games this year.

Does it matter?When Southern Cal was stripped of the title this year, the same pundits screaming for Auburn’s head on a plate this year are the ones who said that awarding the 2004 title to Auburn shouldn’t be done. They say that Southern Cal was still the best team and Auburn wouldn’t have beaten them anyway.

Win the game, Auburn. Win the game in Glendale. Beat the Ducks.

And nothing else will matter.

Christmas Carols

2010-11-30T01:00:00.000-05:00

Do you have most and least favorite Christmas carols?

I do. My favorites are “The Christmas Carol” and “O Holy Night.” I never tire of hearing these songs, regardless of who performs them. Carrie Underwood did a version of O Hoy Night in her Christmas album that is fantastic. I also like the song “Santa Baby,” but I’m particular about the artist. I always thought after hearing the Eartha Kitt version that it should have been retired. Macy Gray changed my mind on that. There are also songs I don’t like. “Last Christmas” grates on me. I also don’t like Toyland, but that was because I always thought it sad. I never understood what it meant until I grew up.

My wife is fond of particular artists. She really likes Carrie Underwood and also the latest Christmas music from Glee. As for songs, The First Noel holds a special place in her heart. We were at my aunt’s in North Carolina and my wife saw a decoration or garnet and gold with the four letters: E-L-O-N. As it was Christmas, she rearranged the letters to spell “N-O-E-L.” My aunt laughed and then reminded my wife of her longtime association with Elon University and that the school’s colors are garnet and gold.

There’s a new song that got my goat over the weekend. It’s “Christmas Is” by Run DMC. My boys first heard the song in the movie “Jingle All The Way.” (It’s the background music that plays when Schwarzenegger goes into a back alley warehouse or bad Santas and hot children toys. It is a funny movie. How many movies do you know that pair Arnold Schwarzenegger and Sinbad?) I have the song on one of the Christmas CDs that I play in my car. The kids like the music.

However, my eight-year old has started picking up some of the lyrics.

I don’t have anything against Run DMC. And the lyrics aren’t dirty. It’s just that he now walks around the house rapping “Give up the dough. Give up the dough. Give up the dough on Christmas Yo.”

So I ask the same question as I started with.

What are your most and least favorite Christmas carols? I’d love to know.

Auburn vs. Alabama Recap

2010-11-26T23:30:00.000-05:00

It’s a shame for a writer to say this, but I’m still at a loss for words.

I can’t find any superlatives that adequately describe Auburn’s win over Alabama.

I don’t know if I ever will.

When the game opened with Alabama scoring a TD, I thought it was business as usual. When Auburn went three-and-out, I thought about last year’s game when Auburn had opened up 14-0 lead early. In that game, Auburn stopped Alabama a second time and started with acceptable field position. Then Chris Todd missed two wide open receivers and allowed Alabama to catch its breath.

The same thing essentially happened here. Alabama faced a 4th-and 19 after a sack of McElroy.

And then the most bogus celebration penalty in the history of college football, designed to send Nick Fairley a message. The “message” resulted in another Alabama TD and a 21-0 first quarter score.

From there, I started thinking about another game, the one where Auburn jumped out with four straight scores and then cruised to victory. (The post-game quote from Brody Croyle was that Alabama won the final three quarters, still one of the stupidest post-game comments I’ve eve heard.)

But with Auburn having no first downs and Alabama continuing to drive, I actually had doubts.

It’s the reason I’m still in shock.

Prior to today, Auburn had come back from double digit deficits. Each time, though, they trailed at home. Today, they were down 24-0 in Bryant-Denny stadium to last year’s national champion, a team coached by the one of the best coaches in the game.

And Auburn could have folded. Two Alabama fumbles in the red zone took away probable Alabama scores.

After making it a 24-21 game and getting a crucial stop, Auburn could have lost it when Quindarius Carr fumbled after not calling for the fair catch. They held Alabama to a field goal and kept it down to one score difference. And then Auburn finally took the lead after that.

I was on the proverbial pins-and-needles after that. I kept hoping we’d get another score and get up eight points like we were against South Carolina. I knew we were one busted play from an Alabama FG. And, on the 25th anniversary of what is known as the kick, I didn’t want that.

And as the final whistle sounded, and with it an Auburn victory, I breathed a sigh and realized that the kick may be a good metaphor. For this win was a dagger that stabbed our arch rival.

But converting on 4th and 16 with less than a minute to go is a lot easier than coming back from 24-0.

This was simply the biggest Auburn Iron Bowl victory ever.
-> More important than Punt Bama Punt
-> More important than 1989.
-> More important than the 14-13 upset in 1949 after losing 55-0 the previous season and coming into the game a huge underdog.

Given the 24-0 deficit with what was on the line, no other Iron Bowl victory compares to this one for Auburn.

However, it could all be for naught.

Throughout 2010, Auburn has been good at finishing the game.

Now Auburn needs to finish the season.

War Eagle!

The Scooter's Tale

2010-11-23T00:05:00.000-05:00

We tossed out my 8-year old’s scooter last Tuesday.

It was a sad but necessary event, precipitated by a dark evening, a long commute, and a Dad’s one-time failure to see what toys were laying in the driveway on said dark evening.

So how could I miss a scooter you might be asking? Well, our driveway and garage are at an acute angle and my wife’s car is already in the garage when I get home. Given that it’s a tight turn and fit, I’ve always found it easier to back in via the driveway when I get home to park quickly in my spot in the garage.

Back to the now damaged scooter.

I brought my son outside to show him what happened, then reminded him of how often I’d warned him about leaving stuff in the driveway and that I’d run over something someday. Mad as I feared the car might have been damaged, I banished him to his room after dinner was over.

I examined the car and found it to be okay. No scratches that I could see and the tire hadn’t hit anything sharp. I then turned my attention to the scooter. It really was wrecked. The scooter’s platform was now at a worse angle than our driveway and garage. As I examined the scooter further, I wondered if its destruction wasn’t punishment enough.

The scooter had lived a good life. It had belonged to my older son and then passed to my younger one when my older son outgrew it. However, over a year ago it fell apart. (Two boys back-to-back. What toy stands a chance?) After leaving the pieces in the garage for several months, I received an ultimatum from my DW. Fix it or toss it.

I chose to fix it.

And my younger son was a happy boy. He rode it to the pool all summer, to his friends houses in the neighborhood, and always took it to the park when his brother had a baseball game. He especially liked taking it up a small hill in a cul-de-sac in our neighborhood, coming down as fast as he could. And yes there were a few mishaps and scrapes along the way. Fortunately, nothing broken.

So, with those memories in mind, I considered repairing it again. My wife delivered another ultimatum. Either fix it or throw it by the next time the garbage is picked up. She didn’t want to see the pieces sitting in the garage again for several more months.

I thought about ways to repair it but eventually concluded bending metal was a bit beyond me and the tools I had. I placed it out with the garbage Monday evening to be taken away on Tuesday morning.

On Tuesday morning, I took my son to school. The scooter was gone when I returned.

I went in the house and told my wife. “The scooter’s gone.”

“Of course, the trash people picked it up.”
“No, the scooter’s gone. The trash hasn’t been picked up yet. Someone with the ability to fix that thing took it.”
“Oh. Good. I’d rather somebody use it than it get tossed into a landfill.”

I agreed.

And I smiled at the thought of another little boy getting as much joy out of that scooter as my sons had.

So has anyone reading this ever had similar incidents to the above? Have you run over a treasured toy? Has someone taken stuff from your garbage because they could use it? I’d love to hear about it.

When Love and Football Collide

2010-11-16T00:05:00.000-05:00

I normally try to keep my posts here and my posts on my football blog separate. The two don’t intersect too often

This past weekend was the exception.

Having turned my kids into Auburn fans, I need to take them to an Auburn game when the chance arises. On this most recent Saturday, it did. The boys were excited. It was their first time to attend a game since the contest against Washington State in 2006.

They weren’t disappointed.

Neither was I

We arrived in Auburn on a Friday evening and headed to the massive tailgate across from the art museum. My cousin Katherine had an RV set up amongst the sea of RVs near campus and planned to hang out there for the weekend with her son and some good friends. We gorged ourselves on hot dogs and chips before calling it, heading out to my cousin’s place where we spent the night. It took awhile for my kids to finally relax. (My cousin has a pool table. There was no way they weren’t going to play a couple of games.) Finally, they nodded off to sleep and allowed my wife and me to do the same.

As Saturday unfolded, I admit I had more on my mind than just the game. (There’s the scandal involving Auburn’s QB that has kept my attention.) However, none of it came close to just being able to watch a game with my boys. We headed to the tailgate where my wife would spend the afternoon with my cousin and her friends. (My cousin had no plans to attend the game. She just likes tailgating.) And when kickoff became two and a half hours away, I knew it was time for the boys and I to go.

Now I know that sounds like a long time. We were only a thirty minute walk from the stadium at best. But, it’s one thing to go to a game. It’s another to soak in the atmosphere.

One particular tradition I wanted to share with my boys was Tiger Walk. Approximately two hours prior to the game, the football team walks from the athletic dorm to the stadium. The cheerleaders are there. A subset of the band is there. And thousands of fans line the path. My younger son in particular wanted to see two people: Aubie (the Auburn mascot) and Cam Newton.

He got to do both. As the picture below shows, he got to meet Aubie.

And, as the players walked through the crowd, he low-fived Cam Newton, the man whose smile will one day grace toothpaste commercials on all the networks.

From there, we headed to Toomer’s Drugs for lemonade, another Auburn tradition. Though a souvenir shop now, it was a pharmacy for many years. Inside the place, I took them to the back of the store and showed them the picture on the wall of their great-great uncle, Mac Lipscomb, who bought the business from Mr. Toomer himself and ran it for decades before retiring.

And then we went to the game.
When it comes to college football, the only thing better than watching a big game is watching it with your children. To enjoy their fascination as the eagle flies out and lands at mid-field, to enjoy their anticipation as the band takes the field, and then enjoy their amazement as jets do a flyover during the National Anthem.

“Dad, that was loud,” my son said.

“I could only smile back and agree.

With a victory, we celebrated and then headed back to the park to meet my wife and head home to Atlanta. For the second time in two nights, I tried to get the kids to get over their excitement and get some sleep. And for the second time in two nights, I failed miserably.

I know my kids won’t forget this trip.

Neither will I.

Auburn vs. Georgia Recap

2010-11-14T12:05:00.000-05:00

Posting later than usual today. It was a late night. Instead of watching the game on TV, I traveled with the fam to Auburn to see the team in person, taking my excited boys to their first Auburn game in awhile.

They weren’t disappointed.

Neither was I

We arrived Friday evening and headed to the massive tailgate across from the art museum. My cousin Katherine had an RV set up amongst the sea of RVs and planned to hang out there for the weekend with her son and some good friends. We gorged ourselves on hot dogs and chips before calling it, heading out to my cousin’s place where we spent the night.

Of course, while I was there, I followed the latest news on the Cam Newton saga. Supposedly, a source claimed that Cecil admitted to talking with Mississippi State about money. Another unnamed source. Another story with accusations. Everybody claims their source is reliable. The problem is you don’t know who to believe anymore.

But as Saturday unfolded, I was reminded of, as the creed goes, why I believe in Auburn and love it.

From taking my son’s to Tiger Walk where they high-fived with Aubie and low-fived with Cam to a Toomer’s lemonade where I showed them the picture on the wall of their great-great uncle, Mac Lipscomb, who bought the business from Mr. Toomer himself and ran it for decades before retiring. I re-introduced my sons to the Auburn I loved.

And then we went to the game.

When it comes to college football, the only thing better than watching a big game is watching it with your children. To enjoy their fascination as the eagle flies out and lands at mid-field, to enjoy their anticipation as the band takes the field, and then enjoy their amazement as jets do a flyover during the National Anthem.

“Dad, that was loud,” my son said.

“I could only smile back and agree.

The first drive opened as we expected with an opening TD, but nothing seemed to go right after that. The dropped pass on a sure TD that would have tied the game at 14-all showed how badly we were out of sorts. I could almost CBS announcers talking about the Newton saga and how it must be getting to Auburn. But with two scores in the second quarter, to tie it up, I counted my blessings and said to my kids, “I hope that was the bad half.”

I was relieved when Chizik’s gamble worked to open the second half. And fromt here, the momentum finally seemed to shift Auburn’s way. I finally relaxed when Georgia kicked a field goal. I knew we’d have the game in the bag once we got up two scores. And when Georgia took a knee to end it, I celebrated. Our first SEC Western Division championship in six years was a reality. We still have higher things to play for, but we can relax and enjoy the moment, punctuated by memories of Michael Dyer breaking Bo Jackson’s freshman rushing record and watching Bo Jackson congratulate him on the big screen when it was announced.

But there were some negatives.

Our defense still has a lot of trouble stopping anyone, though admittedly they only allowed only 10 points after the first quarter. You can’t blame them for the interception that was returned to the Auburn 9. However, you can blame them for having UGA third and 16 in the third quarter and allowing a first down. You can also blame them for having UGA 4^th and 1 and allowing a huge TD pass.

Our punting team still needs work. On what had to be the best punt of the year, Auburn could have pinned UGA at the 1. Instead, our players lost the ball and allowed it to slip into the end zone. Georgia went on to score on that drive.

TV timeouts are really long when you’re in the stadium. It’s almost a momentum killer.

Reviews are frustrating when you can’t see all the camera angles that are provided on TV. I don’t know what the official rules are, but Auburn doesn’t show a replay on the Jumbotron until the ruling on the field is confirmed or overturned.

Auburn did allow some of its frustrations to show, as evidenced by the taunting from the Georgia players. Taunting that was visible to everyone except the referees, allowed Auburn to get hit with a personal foul for responding to it. And then Auburn got two players tossed at the end. Those players will have to miss the first half of the Alabama game. I’m thankful to Mark Richt for taking a knee at the end. We couldn’t afford to lose another defender.

With the game over, I enjoyed the jubilation, took the kids to McDonald’s, and then we all headed home to Atlanta. On the way home, I tried to get my kids to take a nap. I also tried to explain the NCAA to my wife. I was successful at neither.

All I can say is. War Cam Eagle. Nothing is proven. If the NCAA finds Cam ineligible and decides to vacate Auburn’s season, let Auburn’s record for the season be 0-0.

And everyone will know who was the best.

I end today with a picture of the sunset. No reason. It just looked nice.

An Unanswered Prayer

2010-11-09T05:00:00.000-05:00

Part II

I lied a bit last week.

I told my younger son last week that we don’t pray for wins in sporting events.

I’m a parent. I want to see my kids succeed. I want to see their teams succeed.

Last week, I talked about my younger son’s team losing in playoffs.

This week, it’s my older son.

On the same day that my younger son’s team lost in the playoffs in football, my older son’s team lost in the playoffs in baseball. Seeded #4, they led the #1 seed in the final inning by a score of 3-1. I was praying hard. Praying that they’d pull it out. But the good play and bit of luck that had taken them this far dropped off at the end and they lost the game 4-3 to end the season

And it had been a difficult season for my teenager.

Moving up to the next league had been a bigger challenge than he thought. Heavier bat. Bigger field. Yet still blessed with the same unathletic genes of his father. Like every kid he likes to hit. Every time he steps up to the plate, I hope that he does

A long time ago, I developed a habit. Every time my one of my kids goes to bat, I cross myself like any good Catholic. I try not to be overt about it, though my wife has noticed it on occasion.

With my son’s struggles early on in pony, I think my fingers were working OT. Still, he struck out often. For the first four games, he got one foul ball and put one ball into play. He also got one walk.

He was depressed about his performance. He hates not hitting. Even more, he hates losing. Both were happening.

As the season continued, things got a little better. More foul balls. More balls in play. The team won a couple.

But still no hits. Yet, he kept trying.

Somewhere late, he finally put aluminum on the ball and made it to first. I was ecstatic for him. More foul balls and a couple more hits. His team finished fourth in the league out of five teams.

With the playoffs, my son’s team opened on a Friday night against the #5 team. Entering the last inning, they were down 3-2. My son came up second in the last inning with a man on first. He got his second hit of the night. His first hit had given them an RBI. Three batters later, he would cross home plate with the winning run. It was his first two-hit game of the season. He received the game ball.

So, when they lost to the #1 seed the following day, I was as heartbroken then as euphoric the night before. My prayers for one more game had gone unanswered.

With the game over, the two teams lined up for the customary awarding of the season t-shirt to the team whose season was over. Each kid gets his name called and the coach says something nice. When it got to my son’s turn, the coach called out “And to the hero of last night’s game…”

My prayers for winning that day had gone unanswered. However, my prayers all season had finally been met.

Scandal Promotes Book Release

2010-11-06T20:50:00.001-04:00

This week, given that Auburn was playing Chattanooga and the W was never in doubt, I’d planned to post a funny Top Ten list related to Cam Newton.

Then the scandal broke and it seemed out of place.

In trying to look at this objectively, I concentrated on what few facts are known publicly.

FACT: The NCAA knew about this in January.
FACT: Auburn was told of this in July.
FACT: The Newtons turned over all financial and phone records to Auburn.

So what can we take from the above?

Auburn had time to investigate and it let Cam Newton play.

This story has been known to Auburn, the SEC, and the NCAA since before the season started.

The only impropriety is that two former Mississippi State players were somehow involved in trying to sell Cameron Newton’s services to Mississippi State. And Mississippi State did the right thing in reporting. No one can link the agents to Auburn or to Cam Newton’s recruitment to Auburn.

It may be that Cam Newton wanted to go to Mississippi State, but the hint of impropriety led Newton to Auburn.

But nothing else.

If Auburn knew anything, Newton wouldn’t have stepped on the field. Auburn is too anal otherwise.

So what does this have to do with a book release?

Well, in honor of the lying agents who created this scandal, I’d like to tell you about a new book being released by my good friend and debut author, Amy Atwell.

The book, which can be bought in any e-book format, is appropriately called, Lying Eyes.

A cover and blurb are below,

No-nonsense jewelry designer Iris Fortune yearns for a normal life. But life as Vegas magician Cosmo Fortune's daughter is anything but normal, especially since dear old Dad is also a scam artist. When Cosmo's latest scheme goes awry and he pulls a real-life disappearing act, Iris is left holding the bag.

Now Iris must be a master of illusion—play the poised partner to her politician fiancé while trying to save her father and stay out of reach of Mickey Kincaid, the sexy thief who claims he's only after her jewels.

Detective Kincaid is deep undercover and seeks Iris out because of her connection to Cosmo—he never expected to be so drawn to her. While working with Iris to find the elusive con man, Mickey learns a killer has Iris in his sights, and he must do everything he can to save her, without blowing his cover.

Mickey's put his life on the line before, but never his heart—and now he's not sure which is more dangerous...

So, don’t buy the crap that the lying agents are spewing.

Do buy the book Lying Eyes.

And click here to be taken to Amy’s website.

An Unanswered Prayer?

2010-11-02T04:00:00.000-04:00

Part One.

“Daddy, the blessing didn’t get answered.”

My younger son’s tears continued to flow as we sat on the couch. His football season was over. In the second round of the playoffs, his team, the 8-year old Mill Creek Hawks* lost to the top seed team in the tourney, Parkview, 39-6. The loss dropped the team to 7-3 on the season.

His reference to the “blessing” referred to the previous Sunday. He’d worn his football jersey to church on Sunday, the day after his team won in the first round of the playoffs. Knowing he was facing the #1 seed, he wanted to show his team spirit and get a little extra help. After the service was over, we went up to the priest and explained the situation. He provided a blessing and also blessed my older son as well, whose team was also going to the playoffs last week. (My son’s team was the Phillies. There was no way he wearing a Phillies jersey into church.)

“Yes, it did,” I told my son. “The prayer was answered.”

“Dad, we lost.”

“I didn’t ask for you to win. I asked for a blessing for safety. The priest added one for sportsmanship.”

“What do you mean?”

I looked into his eyes. What was coming wasn’t an easy lesson. “You don’t ask God to help you win. You ask God to keep you and all the other players safe. You ask God to allow you to play your best.”

My son looked back at me. He was still sad but didn’t say anything. I knew that I needed to explain further. “Football is a dangerous sport but you wanted to play. People get hurt playing football. You don’t want see it happen but it’s a fact of the game.”

“I hurt my knee.”

“Do you want some ice for it?”

He thought for a second. “No.”

“Then you didn’t hurt it that badly. Listen to me. Did you have a good time this season?”

The answer came without hesitation. “Yes.”

“Do you want to play football next year?”

Again no hesitation. “Yes.”

“Then that’s all that matters. You’re safe. You had fun.”

My son’s tears had finally dried up, yet he still hadn’t quite understood what I said. And I don’t know if a couple of days perspective has helped. Maybe one day he will.

At the same time, I knew it was the truth. My two biggest concerns were that he have fun and that he be safe. And even though it was towards the end of the season when I asked for the blessing for him, I knew I’d been saying it every time he stepped onto the field.

And I admit I still wanted him to win.

But my prayers had been answered.

* There are actually three 8-year old teams in the Mill Creek area. All three are called the Mill Creek Hawks.

Auburn - Ole Miss postgame

2010-10-31T00:05:00.000-04:00

Well…Auburn will be #1 in the BCS when it’s released on Sunday evening. We survived the #1 jinx, though at this writing I wonder if Oregon will avoid it. When I began to relax, I thought about turning it to watch the Oregon-USC game. However, I talked myself out of it. Watching Auburn play like this is a joy to behold.

However as I look back on the game (and wonder if Cam Newton’s first endorsement will be for Chapstick®), I realize that this was the most relaxed I’d been in a while.

It started with the usual weirdness. Ole Miss came out in the gray jerseys as some sort of symbolic, spiritual statement. First time they’ve ever worn gray jerseys. Teams do this regularly. Georgia brought out the all black jerseys awhile back in a game where they upset Auburn. Auburn has occasionally worn orange jerseys and has pretty much sucked when they did it. (Side note: Oregon could never wear special jerseys as they pretty much act like the caricature of the spoiled rich girl who never wants to wear the same outfit twice.)

But back to game.

Cameron Newton had 45 rushing yards on the ground. For the average QB, that’s a good night. Cam Newton is not an average QB. He’s a Heisman candidate, one-man team, Superman plus, excess other superlatives individual.

So what’s he doing looking like a typical QB?

He’s showing he can play a typical game.

He’s showing the rest of the world what only Auburn fans seem to realize at the moment. Auburn is not a one-man team.

Yes, Cam Newton is a great player. He’s a special player. He’s a one-of-a-kind player. He’s already breaking all records running, throwing (TDs), and tonight he even showed he can catch a pass.

Yet, against Ole Miss, Auburn showed it can run a conventional game and still pick up 300+ yards rushing, with nearly 200 yards by freshman RB.

It showed that it’s experienced offensive line can open holes for whomever is running.

It showed that the defense, which bends a lot, can stop someone on a 4th and inches play.

It showed that our special teams is dangerous and capable.

In short, it showed that Auburn can play a complete game and gave Auburn’s remaining opponents something to worry about…that Auburn is a good TEAM.

War Eagle and Happy Halloween!!!

Worth A Smile

2010-10-26T04:30:00.000-04:00

A little bit of disclosure about myself. I attended Auburn University.

For those of you that pay attention to college football, Auburn had an important game last Saturday. (For those of you that don’t know, Auburn, unbeaten and in the Top Ten in the nation, faced LSU, also unbeaten and in the Top Ten in the nation. Auburn won and is now the #1 team in the nation in the poll that determines who plays for the championship at the end of the season.)

Usually, I’m hard to reach mentally when Auburn is on TV.

Saturday was a different story.

We had a tiring family day this past Saturday. We opened it up at 9:00 a.m. with my older son’s fall baseball team playing the final game of their regular season. My son’s team won 7-6, stranding the tying runner at third base after he reached there with less than two outs. My older son went 1-3 on the day, thrown out at second when he tried to stretch his single into a double.

When that game ended, we headed to another location in Gwinnett County for the first round of the playoffs for my younger son’s football team. My son’s team trailed 14-13 at the half but had an awesome third quarter to finish with a 47-27 victory.

So what does this have to do with Auburn vs. LSU?

I missed the first part of the Auburn – LSU game because of the end of my son’s game. No big deal. Any parent would have done the same. Had I even had a second thought about paying more attention to the TV game than my son’s, I should be criticized, chided, lampooned. Pick your verb.

It was what we did Saturday night that drew gasps from friends.

You see, we had tickets for Saturday night’s hockey game between the Gwinnett Gladiators and the Florida Everblades. The tickets were about center ice down low and my younger son loves hockey. With them dropping the puck at 7:00, we left a little after 6:00 to give us time to be there for the start. In other words, I left during the third quarter.

Granted, I wasn’t completely cut off from it. A friend of mine texted me with updates on the game throughout the 4th quarter. I went nuts when I found out Auburn won. Still though, my younger son loves hockey. And the smile on his face, along with the Gladiators win, made missing the 4th quarter worthwhile.

As I read this, I think it sounds a little shameless. I did what a dad is supposed to do.

But sometimes it’s nice when little choices in life remind of us what’s really important.

A Perfect Day

2010-10-24T00:30:00.000-04:00

We had a tiring family day on Saturday.

We opened it up at 9:00 a.m. with my older son’s fall baseball team, the Pony League Phillies, playing the final game of their regular season. They were playing the top team in their league. My son’s team, who has had a difficult season, opened up a 7-0 lead before holding on at the end 7-6. They stranded the tying runner at third and managed to strike out two to ensure that he didn’t make it home. My older son went 1-3, thrown out at second when he tried to stretch his single into a double.

When that game ended, we headed to another location in Gwinnett County for the first round of the playoffs for my younger son’s football team. It was the first round of the playoffs and my son’s football team, the Mill Creek Hawks, were playing the Grayson Rams. With my son’s team being the lower seed, it was an away game. They trailed 14-13 at the half but had an awesome third quarter to finish with a 47-27 victory. The win sent my son’s team into the quarterfinals where they will face the top seed in Gwinnett County in another away game.

So what does this have to do with Auburn vs. LSU?

As much as I love to watch my Auburn Tigers, sometimes life provides you with other opportunities. And as my son’s football game started over thirty minutes late, I knew I wouldn’t get back even to my car radio for the start of the Auburn-LSU game. 3:30. 4:00, the clock continued to run. Still, I wanted to share my son’s joy more than anything else.

When I finally did flip on the radio, it was already Auburn 7, LSU 0. I drove home, catching both the LSU and Auburn field goals. It was the sometime in the 2nd quarter. Unfortunately, I did catch LSU’s TD at the end of the half.

But our day wasn’t over yet.

You see, we had tickets for last night’s Gwinnett Gladiators hockey game against the Florida Everblades. The tickets were about center ice down low and my younger son loves hockey. With them dropping the puck at 7:00, we left a little after 6:00 to give us time to be there for the start. I heard LSU’s 17-17 tying TD in the parking lot at Gwinnett Arena. A friend of mine texted me updates on the Auburn game throughout the 4th quarter. I went nuts with the news of the win.

And then the Gladiators made it a perfect night, defeating the Everblades 5-2. The smile on my younger son’s face made missing the 4th quarter worthwhile.

I will catch the complete game somehow on replay later this week. I’m curious as to how a player can be stopped and carried back seven or eight yards for a loss.

But, for now, I’ll just remember how much I enjoyed my day with my family.

War Eagle!

Doing The Right Thing?

2010-10-19T05:00:00.000-04:00

After dropping my older son off at a function about a week ago, I took the brief time I had before picking him up to run some errands. My first stop was my bank as I needed to make a deposit.

I parked outside and walked toward the ATM. Someone was already there, so I maintained a respectful distance as the man completed his transaction. Finished, he left the machine and walked toward me. We said our casual acknowledgements as we passed, though neither of us was really listening, just being courteous as the sidewalk to the ATM allowed little room to get around each other.

I inserted my card and pulled out the checks when I noticed a card lying on the bottom portion of the ATM tray. I picked it up and read the name, assuming it belonged to the man who’d just left. I turned to see if I could catch him, but his black truck was speeding out into the street. I caught part of his license plate but little else.

OK. So what now?

Had it been me, I would have eventually noticed that my card was gone. However, I doubt I would have realized it while I was driving. Being that the person who’d left his card was a male, I figured he wouldn’t either. Still, I waited a few minutes. No one returned.

I could have left it where I found it but knew that wasn’t a good idea. A number of people would visit that ATM that evening. And while I like to think that the world is good, I know the chance exists that some less than honest person will pick up the card.

The best thing to do, I reasoned, would be to drop the card in a night deposit box of some kind. I looked for one but didn’t see any. Next, I looked at my ATM receipt and called the customer service number on it. After dealing with the bank’s IVR (Interactive Voice Response), I finally got to the right department, only to get the recorded message that said the department was closed and that I should call back during normal business hours.

I thought about putting it back right there. It wasn’t my problem. I’d made a good faith effort and come up empty. But I’d worked in a bank before, handling business customers, and had often dealt with situations where customers or their family members had been defrauded. It’s not a fun process.

I looked at the front door and saw another number printed on it in big white letters. The security number for break-ins. What did I have to lose? I called them and explained and asked if they knew a place where I could put this away. They didn’t but transferred me to another number. Unfortunately, it was another group who couldn’t help. I wasn’t the card owner. They were prohibited.

I turned the card over and saw a new customer service number, at least one I hadn’t tried. After navigating that system, I finally got a live sympathetic body. Unfortunately, it was the credit card group. She couldn’t help. I was holding a debit card. And while she could give me the number of the correct department, she couldn’t transfer me directly. She suggested I slip it through the door. I said that might set off the motion sensors, at which point I would have to wait for the police. And though they would probably believe what happened, it would be a long night either way.

So, at that point, I gave up. I could have the called the debit card group, but I was done. Instead, I placed the card near the front door, in a place only an employee (or as bank robber) would notice. Hopefully, someone saw it in the morning.

So what would you have done? Would you have called the debit card group? Would you have done what I did? Would you have given up earlier? I’d really like to know.

Auburn vs. Arkansas Wrap-Up

2010-10-16T22:00:00.002-04:00

When Arkansas tool the lead on Auburn in the second half, my wife commented that Auburn’s games are kind of like our 8-year old son’s football games. My son’s team led for most of the game, only to surrender the lead with three minutes left in the 4th quarter, going down 18-14.

My wife had no idea how prescient she would be.

My son’s team fumbled the ball away twice in the 4th quarter, one of them deep in their own territory as the other team picked up the ball and ran for a score.

And then I watched as Auburn ran a fumble back for a TD and then picked up two interceptions. And somewhere in the 4th quarter, I finally relaxed (and enjoyed a wonderful dinner).

Still, the fumbles were controversial. I’ve already seen the AP story about how Auburn and the replay officials combined to beat Arkansas. Let's face it. Auburn got slammed by the replay booth as well over that spot of the football on the 4th and six that Arkansas "converted" in the second half . Given the history Auburn has experienced this season alone with phantom pass interference calls (pick any game), it was about time that Auburn had some things go their way.

It was better, though, for Auburn to remove this particular monkey off their back. (Despite the “basketball score” jokes peppered all over Twitter.)

Auburn hadn’t beaten Arkansas in since 2007 and seemed to always lay an egg against Arkansas in big years. And while I don’t think we’ll go undefeated, this game still worried me more than any other. In no other game this year will Auburn face an offense so well designed to exploit Auburn’s defensive weaknesses. No other team has QBs like Arkansas combined with a comparable receiver corps.

But we came through it. We survived another week in the SEC. We even scored the most points in the history of an SEC game and the most points we’ve scored on an SEC team in 40 years. And forget what AP says, we WON the game.

Next week, LSU (expected to be undefeated) comes into Auburn. We’ve lost three straight to LSU.

I don’t expect us to lose a fourth one.

One of the realities of an afternoon game is the evening highlights. You know you're going to see the game replays throughout the evening as you enjoy what else is going on in college football.

I'm looking forward to a nice rest of the evening.

War Eagle!!!!!

When Brothers Meet Brothers

2010-10-12T05:00:00.000-04:00

Before I start, I’d like to congratulate Bobby Cox and the Braves on an exciting season. In the end, the injuries from the season were just too great to overcome: Chipper, Prado, Medlin, Jurrjens, Wagner, and the list goes on.

Now back to the post.

Sometimes, I bring it on myself.

Admittedly, I’m a history buff and I put that in my kids. Occasionally ever, sometimes I overdo and then my kids drive me nuts. Such was the case this weekend.

On Monday, we drove up to Toccoa, Georgia to see the Stephens County Historical Museum. For those of you who don’t recognize Toccoa (my eight-year old kept calling it Taco, Georgia), it was the beginning training area for paratroopers during WWII. If you’ve seen the movie “Band of Brothers,” it’s the location of the first thirty minutes of Episode One.

I’ve known we were about an hour from the area and I’d longed to see it. I thought my boys might enjoy it, too. So, with them out of school for Columbus Day, I took Monday off. To prepare them, I even pulled out my copy of Band of Brothers and watched Episode One with them.

I learned a lot going up there.
1) Toccoa is a nice town full of friendly people.
2) The museum is small, but the military portion of it is quite interesting. One of the items they have is a stable from England, which shows how many GIs were housed when they trained in England.
3) There’s very little left of what was once there.
4) Toccoa Falls, located at Toccoa Falls College, was an unexpected benefit to the drive up there.

Granted, it was just a training facility. The government ended its use in 1945 and then sold it to a private company, making it a judicious use of public money. (There’s a rarity for you.) A monument remains. You can climb to the top of Currahee, the mountain they ran up each day.

So where do my kids get overzealous?

It was a lot of fun when my kids would grab me and say. “Daddy, come see this. Daddy, come see this.”

But now they want to watch the rest of Band of Brothers...in a row.

I’m not sure I can take nine straight hours of questions from my kids.

Auburn vs. Kentucky Wrap-Up

2010-10-10T00:15:00.000-04:00

I tweeted last night right after the game that “The Prilosec commercial just before Byrum's field goal was appropriate.”

It’s also Auburn football.

Part of me was hoping for an easy evening. In the old days, a match-up against Kentucky was considered a breather. And while some Auburn games with Kentucky were close, there was never any doubt. (Sort of like when Kentucky plays us in basketball.)

Yet, I knew that was a forlorn hope at best. At my younger son’s football game earlier in the day. I was sitting in front of a fellow Dad and UCLA grad. Of course, we talked football. He thought Auburn should handle Kentucky easily. I gently explained it to him. If an Auburn game is on, heartburn is a given. I’m convinced that the god of Auburn football makes a commission on every tablet of Nexium. As a friend of mine commented on Twitter recently, “being an Auburn fan has taken years off my life.”

But I wouldn’t have it any other way.

No. I don’t mean that I’m this happy with the additional gray hairs I accumulate each week. I’m also losing my hair, too Eventually I’ll go completely gray and go bald. I just mean I’d rather be an Auburn Tiger than anything else.

So what did we learn this week?

Between last season and this season, we had enough gas in he tank to finish the game. We started that final drive at our own 6-yard line after that had to be one of the dumbest, ill-advised hand-offs on a kick return that anyone has ever seen. We survived.

This time last year, we had a loss to Arkansas in a game that we weren’t really in. We survived.

After falling behind early by double digits twice this year and coming back, we went up by double digits and gave that up. We survived.

We gained over 500 yards for the sixth time this season. (Cam Newton picked up over 400 yards.) We survived.

We won our second road game of the season by three points. We survived.

And we advanced.

And that’s good enough for this week.

Next week is Arkansas. We owe them like we owed Kentucky.

War Eagle!

How to Properly Demote A Seal

2010-10-05T05:00:00.000-04:00

For a long time, my 8-year old son has slept with three stuffed animals: a seal, a dog, and a teddy bear. Being the creative sort, he gave them unconventional names. The seal was called “Seal-y.” The dog was “Puppy.” The bear was “Bear-y Bear.” (OK. Maybe they're not that original.)

However, a few nights ago, I got a surprise when I tucked him in.

“Dad, I don’t want to sleep with Sealy anymore.”

‘Why not? You love Sealy.”

“Well, I’m eight now and growing up. It’s time to put Sealy away.”

I was stunned. The trio of animals had been his friends for so long. “Are you sure?” I asked. “Do you really want to break up the group?”

He nodded. “Yes, it’s time. I’ll put Sealy away now. When I turn 10, I’ll put away Puppy. When I’m 12, then I’ll put away Beary Bear.”

I asked again if he was sure and he confirmed he was, so I picked up Sealy and held it up to my son, who gave it a last kiss. I then put Sealy on the other bed in his room, staring at his former charge from a distance.

I went back downstairs and told my wife the news. Sealy had been demoted. She was as stunned as I. However, we figured it was only matter of time. The little guy was getting bigger.

The following night, I put Sealy on the other bed again, said goodnight, and tucked him in. It was a sad time.

The following night I got home late. He was already in bed. When I went to check on him, I got a shock. Sealy was back with the trio.

Since that night, Sealy has continued to be a part of the group. It’s as if the growing up has been forgotten.

And I’m happy to have him be little just a little while longer.

Wisconsin Grad Admits Michigan Loyalty

2010-10-03T13:16:00.005-04:00

Normally, I would fill this space with a review of the Auburn – ULM game. However, given the final score of 52-3, I‘d like to do something else instead.

There are some things in life that, like watching college football, bring great pleasure. One of them is reading a good book. I’ve recently finished a wonderful book called The Preacher’s Bride. The book is the debut work of University of Wisconsin graduate, Jody Hedlund. A blurb (taken from the publisher’s website) is below.

In 1650s England, a young Puritan maiden is on a mission to save the baby of her newly widowed preacher--whether her assistance is wanted or not. Always ready to help those in need, Elizabeth Whitbred ignores preacher John Costin's protests of her aid. She's even willing to risk her lone marriage prospect to help the little family.

Yet Elizabeth's new role as nanny takes a dangerous turn when John's boldness from the pulpit makes him a target of political and religious leaders. As the preacher's enemies become desperate to silence him, they draw Elizabeth into a deadly web of deception. Finding herself in more danger than she ever bargained for, she's more determined than ever to save the child--and man--she's come to love.

The characters in the book are fictional, but are based on the real life of John Bunyan, the author of The Pilgrim’s Progress. With this story, Jody Hedlund brings an interesting perspective to the history of Bunyan by focusing on the story of his wife, Elizabeth, and the internal conflicts she faced.

However, as I have discovered, Ms. Hedlund is no stranger to internal conflict. The author did do her graduate work at Wisconsin, having attended undergrad at a place that doesn’t play football (Taylor University in Indiana). However, when pressed, the author admitted a deep secret.

She and her family are die hard Michigan fans.

I tried to put in a call to Bucky Badger, whose publicist said that Bucky is canceling his push-up promotional tour for the book, but will reconsider it when he travels to Ann Arbor in November. He promises to even read the book himself to make his decision.

I predict he’ll change his mind.

A copy of the cover is below. Click here to be taken to Jody’s blog.

A Great Book. A Great Time

2010-09-28T05:00:00.000-04:00

One of the pleasures in life is reading a good book. I’m having that pleasure right now.

I’ve recently acquired a book titled The Preacher’s Bride. The book is the debut novel of author Jody Hedlund, a fantastic writer from the Michigan area. A blurb (taken from the publisher’s website) is below.

In 1650s England, a young Puritan maiden is on a mission to save the baby of her newly widowed preacher--whether her assistance is wanted or not. Always ready to help those in need, Elizabeth Whitbred ignores preacher John Costin's protests of her aid. She's even willing to risk her lone marriage prospect to help the little family.

Yet Elizabeth's new role as nanny takes a dangerous turn when John's boldness from the pulpit makes him a target of political and religious leaders. As the preacher's enemies become desperate to silence him, they draw Elizabeth into a deadly web of deception. Finding herself in more danger than she ever bargained for, she's more determined than ever to save the child--and man--she's come to love.

The characters in the book are fictional, but are based on the real life of John Bunyan, the author of The Pilgrim’s Progress. With this story, Jody Hedlund brings an interesting perspective to the history of Bunyon by focusing on the story of his wife, Elizabeth. I first experienced Bunyan's work when I lived in Japan. However, as much as I'd heard about him, I'd never considered the perspective of the person who supported him. Until now.

I have to admit that I’m still a short ways from the end of The Preacher's Bride, but I've been enjoying every word. A copy of the cover is below. Click here to be taken to Jody’s blog.

Auburn vs. South Carolina Post Game

2010-09-26T00:30:00.000-04:00

I was wrong.

I said both in pre-game post and in preview back in the summer that South Carolina would beat Auburn. And, as I watched the first half, I figured that Auburn must have read my blog. With two fumbles in the first half, TOs that USC converted into 13 points, Auburn had decided to beat itself.

With the negative TO performance from the Clemson game, I realized that by the halftime of this game we’d gone at least six quarters without a takeaway. However, there was a huge difference. Clemson wiped the field with us pretty much in the first half before we finally asserted ourselves in the third quarter. How was this game different? We actually led USC in total yards at the first half, with three times as many rushing yards.

And as I watched Auburn play, I began to realize one thing. I’d undersold our boys. We were outplaying South Carolina. We just couldn’t put them away. That’s what happens when you give a team a short field.

So what do we know from today’s game?

1) We have a senior-laden defense, with some good freshman
2) Wes Byrum can have an off night.
3) We should question sometimes why we give Mario Fannin the ball.
4) We have a coaching staff that can make adjustments at halftime.
5) We can actually beat the spread.

But what we really know is that this team doesn’t get down on itself. For the second week in a row, we got down by double digits and came back. And that bodes well for out self-confidence.

But my heart can’t take much more of this.

War Eagle!

Auburn - South Carolina Preview

2010-09-22T22:00:00.001-04:00

For the fourth straight time this year, Auburn will go into a game against an undefeated team.

Ok. I admit that’s not saying much. Arkansas State hadn’t played anyone. Mississippi State had beaten only Memphis. Clemson had wins against two nobodies.

But South Carolina comes in 3-0 with an SEC win over UGA and a ranking higher than ours, at least in one poll. Auburn is ahead of USC in the other. And the pundits are taking notice.

A lot of discussion has revolved around Auburn’s failure to make a Tiger out of South Carolina’s true freshman RB, Lattimore. With Dyer and Lattimore in the backfield, people speculate that Auburn could have printed Championship t-shirts both two and three years from now.

That may be putting the cart before the horse, but there’s no doubt that each back provides his team an opportunity to win the game. A combined backfield with the two of them would have been devastating.

But to whom is the game more important? Though both teams can have good seasons, neither is expected to contend for the championship and definitely not the national title. However, what impact will it have on the divisional race?

This game will likely not decide the SEC East. There are many who feel that the SEC East champion will have at least three losses. Though Florida was expected to dominate, the general consensus was that the teams would beat other up. The West has seen years like that, when three losses still didn’t knock a team out, leaving head-to-head as the deciding factor over which school went. However, this year the West is different. The champion there will likely have one loss and many would be surprised at two. There is less room for error. There is more to lose.

In my preseason speculation, I said Auburn would drop this game. I still would not be surprised if they did. Marcus Lattimore has been excellent this season and will likely be so this weekend. The downside is that USC is one dimensional. If Auburn can stop Lattimore, than USC has little else to fall back on. However, if Spurrier schemes and run Lattimore as a feint, Auburn may bite and find themselves in the same hole that they did with Clemson.

Like last week, this game will not be pretty. I just hope it will be a win.

By the way, the undefeated opponent streak will not continue as ULM is 0-2, including a 34-20 loss to Arkansas State.

Coach

2010-09-21T05:00:00.000-04:00

My kids love to play team sports.

You may have guessed that from some of the earlier posts. My older son is playing Pony League fall baseball. My younger son is playing football. They’re both having fun. (My younger son is likely having more fun as his team is undefeated.)

However, most of the time, I’ve watched from the sidelines. I’ve kept a scorebook. Being athletically inept when I was kid, I learned to take the one of Dirty Harry mantra, “A Man’s Gotta Know His Limitations.”

However, as the coach of my son’s baseball team announced that he would have a harried schedule and needed all the help he could get, I did the one thing I never expected to do. I signed up to be an assistant coach.

My son told me that the idea of me on the field freaked him out. I told him to get over it. However, I set low expectations in advance. I can definitely keep the book and can get on the field to run the bench if needed. And it really doesn’t take much to do soft tosses with a kid in a batting cage.

However, with the other assistant coaches out for a game one Tuesday evening, I faced having to actually get on the field and handle first base. And when the game was over and obligatory “good game” handshakes were exchanged, I fist bumped with the kids and the shook the home plate umpire’s hand.

And he called me “Coach.”

I have to admit I was caught off guard. I glanced left and right without turning my head, but I knew he was talking to me. It was weird feeling. It just didn’t fit. But, I accepted it and left the field.

I’ve been called coach once since and I handled it a little better. Though I may never get used to the term, I at least wasn’t surprised.

Now if I could only get used to getting on the field.

Auburn vs. Clemson 2010 Post Mortem

2010-09-19T00:22:00.002-04:00

This is appropriately a post morten. We were nearly dead.

As the old saying goes, sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good.

On Saturday night, we were lucky.

The evening started with us at my sister’s having burgers. A cousin and her daughter were visiting .We hadn’t seen them in a while. I caught that less than memorable first quarter while I was there. We looked like crap.

With my wife having a girls night out planned (and my cousin, sister, and another woman joining), I had to leave in the middle of the second quarter, go with her to pick up her friend, and then take them to the bar where they planned to spend the evening. The way the second quarter went, being my wife’s designated driver was the only thing that kept me from wanting to down something myself to erase what was going on in that first half.

I can’t remember when I’ve seen/heard such a pathetic display of Auburn football.

And then we kicked off the second, like we seem to kick off a lot of seconds. With mistakes. And despite taking the lead in the 3^rd quarter, we continued to make mistakes. The refs rewrote the definition on what pass interference means. I never knew it was possible to call pass interference without actual contact occurring.

Still, many of things that were going on were of our own making. We fought valiantly to take the lead at 24-17. Yet, the way we played, I counted us lucky that we made it into overtime. Given that Clemson’s receivers couldn’t hang on to the football, I count ourselves lucky that we won.

But, in the good category, our guys fought hard. That was one of the hardest hitting games I’ve ever seen. I’m convinced that we’ll be seeing that hit to Kyle Parker for the rest of the season, the same way we did a few years ago against LSU. And I’m surprised we weren’t called for more late hits than we got flagged for.

But a win is a win. We’re 3-0. And given the way we’ve played the last two weeks, we’ve been fortunate. We are one caught pass each week from being 1-2.

Until next week. Until South Carolina. Until the heart-wrenching roller-coaster that is Auburn football.

War Eagle!

Church of the Chocolate Sprinkle

2010-09-14T05:00:00.000-04:00

One of out most important days in our church occurred last Sunday, at least for my 8-year old son. It wasn’t Easter. It wasn’t Christmas (though this day is particular popular). It wasn’t even the infamous “nudge Sunday” where family members deliver polite elbows to the ribs as the pastor discusses the gospel reading about how you should treat other family members.

It was doughnut Sunday.

Nearly every Sunday, around the time when Sunday school begins for a new year, my church begins serving coffee and doughnuts in the narthex. It’s meant to serve as an opportunity for parishioners to get to know each other after the service or just relax for a few minutes before heading home.

For my younger son, though, it’s something else. Being eight, he doesn’t quite get into church, but he does enjoy Sunday school. Part of the reason is he has friends in the class and he likes being with the other kids.

But another part is definitely the doughnuts.

This summer, when he realized that Sunday school was about to start, he looked at me and asked, ‘Dad, when are the doughnuts coming back?”

“After Labor Day,” I responded.

So, he counted down the Sundays until it was time This past Sunday, he was ready early. We arrived fifteen minutes prior to the start of class. He drooled about the doughnuts (thankfully not either on them or over them) picked up a nice chocolate one with sprinkles and some chocolate milk to wash it down with.

And enjoyed a few minutes of quality time with his Dad.

Typical Auburn football: Gut wrenching to the end

2010-09-10T23:20:00.002-04:00

I am at least satiated for a moment to get out of Starkville with a win. My alma mater at this time has a lot in common with my 8-year old son’s team. They’re 2-0 and they both fumble a lot.

So what else did we learn from this.

1) Our defense can come through. They bent but didn’t break last night.
2) Our offense has some warts. They could have put it away with a number of scoring opportunities, but they couldn’t convert anything in the 2nd half. This also goes to when they had it about 3rd and 1 with under two minutes to go and all they needed was a first down. They blew the opportunity.
3) Our special teams has some serious work to do.
4) We have “two minute” issues. We can only score within two minutes when there’s more than two minutes to go. There’s no reason why we don’t try to score a field goal at the end of the first half.
5) The “Cowbell Compromise” is worthless until it starts affecting the team’s play on the field.

One of my tweeps wrote last night “Being an Auburn fan has taken years off my life.” I concurred. I kept thinking Auburn was finally going to drive a stake into the vampiric resurrection that was MSU last night. Didn’t happen until the end. Was concerned it might go into OT. Was concerned we could possibly lose. Was concerned that I was watching a repeat of Auburn-Northwestern with just a lower score.

Nope. I was watching football. In the present. And it’s just like it’s always been in the past. Gut wrenching. Nail biting. Heart thumping. It’s the reason Auburn fans are so good at dealing with stress.

However, now that the game is over, we can sit back and watch all the games on Saturday and relax for a change.

Little Things

2010-09-07T05:00:00.000-04:00

I took my younger son to football practice last night. Despite it being Labor Day (and all the Dads wanting to get home to eat quickly and watch the Boise State-Virginia Tech game), just about every one was there.

The topic of conversation, though, was the miracle finish from the weekend. My son’s team, in their weekly game, took the opening kickoff and marched down the field, taking a 7-0 lead. However, the game turned into a defensive struggle. At the half, the score was still 7-0. At the end of the third, it was 7-6 and late in the 4th quarter, my son’s team surrendered the lead.

Trailing 12-7 with the opponent needing to run only one more play, it looked bleak. However, the defense stood up the runner and the ball got loose. One of our players picked up the ball and ran it back for a TD. The final score was 13-12.

It was bedlam. I can’t remember a more exciting ending. Granted, I’m a parent, so I’ll always say that about games my kids are in.

But more than the game, though, is the enjoyment I get out of watching my kids play.

My son is enjoying football. That much is obvious. He looks forward to practice and to games.

But what I’ve noticed more is the way he expresses it. He loves his Legos. He loves to draw. And he’s used both to try to explain the game to me. He’s pulled out his sketchbook and drawn up the plays, showing me what he needs to do.

“Dad, on this play, I’m a pulling guard.”

“OK. Show me how it goes. Who do you hit?”

However, his drawings don’t seem to be enough for him. He also takes his Legos and puts them one a board, diagramming the same plays. (They’re easier to follow on paper, but it’s funny to watch a Lego Darth Vader as wide receiver.)

He shows me what he’s supposed to do and excited about it. Though, when he’s in action, he never seems to get the player he’s supposed to hit before the play is blown dead. I tell him he needs to be more aggressive.

He’s getting it.

I’m just glad he has fun while doing it;

One In The Books

2010-09-05T00:05:00.001-04:00

According to he weather reports, it was supposed to be in the 50s on Saturday night. I was looking forward to that. It‘s been so hot of late that a cool night was welcome and an excellent start to the college football season.

However, by halftime, I was looking at something I didn’t expect, Auburn’s point total to exceed the temperature.

But with Auburn having scored 35 points by the end of the first half, I was thinking:

1) We have a new QB and he’s good.
2) We have an improved offense and it’s better.
3) We have a kicker who can kick to the end zone, which beats that pooch kick garbage we seem the thrive on.
4) We have a suspect defense and that’s a problem.

I originally thought Arkansas State wouldn’t score that much, I knew they’d beaten Texas A&M and had given Iowa all they could handle last year. At the same time, they’d also been blown out by Nebraska. And I’d expected more of the same.

Until our defense plays better, I should know better. They gave up too many big plays.

However, after three straight fumbles, I began to wonder about the offense, too. And though the third one was overturned on review, I wondered if any team with the talent to match Arkansas State’s enthusiasm would blow the offense off the field.

I needn’t have worried. Auburn bucked up and held on.

Final: Auburn 52, Arkansas State 26

Only a few days to rest before they travel to Starkville to play Mississippi State.

War Eagle!

The Dacula Miracle

2010-09-04T16:35:00.003-04:00

It had been a nervous day at Dacula Park. My son’s team, the Mill Creek Hawks, had taken the opening and marched down the field, scoring on a 20-yard pass on 4th and 5. However, after that we hadn’t done much. Still, the other team didn’t pick up a first down the first half and we led 7-0 at halftime.

The second half, though, it was a different story. We continued to have trouble moving the ball, while the other team, the Dacula Falcons, were ripping off larger gains. They finally broke the plane of the end zone late in the third. However, a missed extra point left the game 7-6.

Finally, we began to make progress, but a promising drive stalled in the red zone. The Falcons took over and drove the field, scoring again to make it 12-7.

We had one drive left.

And we made progress.

With the clock ticking away, we picked up two first downs and made it to the red zone. However, it was not to be. And with about two minutes to go, we turned it over on downs. The only option was to hold them and hope they would run their plays quickly. However, with the Falcons facing third down and only having to take a knee, it looked hopeless.

The Falcons, though, ran a play. And when the ball squirted loose, one of my son’s teammates picked it up and ran it for a TD.

Mill Creek Hawks 13, Dacula Falcons 12.

And so it ended.

My sister Jeanne and her family made it to the game, with my nephews seeming to enjoy it. They especially like my wife’s shaker, a water bottle with beans inside. My nephews shook it hard toward the end of the game. One of them may even believe that he caused the fumble.

We’re not going to correct him.

The Season Has Begun

2010-08-31T05:00:00.000-04:00

The final score was a thrill for at least half the parents watching.

Mill Creek Hawks 40, Brookwood Broncos 14.

My 8-year old son’s football team opened the first of the 8-game season with a victory. And though the score seems lopsided, it was a little scary at first. The Hawks took the opening kickoff and took but a few plays to score. The point after conversion was missed and my son’s team led 6-0. However, the opposing team scored on their first play from scrimmage and then led 7-6 after they made their conversion. Two plays later, the Hawks found the end zone: 13-7. Another two plays later, the Broncos found the end zone 14-13. Mistakes on the kickoff and then on the first play led to the ball changing hands twice before my son’s team found its groove. They led 27-14 at the half and then picked up two more scores in the second half.

I was proud of my son and the way he played. After two practice games where he looked lackluster, I saw him block and tackle other kids in game situations. It’s his first year to play football and he’s getting the hang of it. I know he enjoyed the game. He’s already looking at the schedule, trying to figure out who they play next.

However, I’m also proud of my older son.

My older son, now 13, has started fall baseball. He loves the game and will continue to play as long as he can. I like to go with him to his practices, because I know how much fun he has. However, on Saturday, he had a practice that started before my younger son’s game ended. And, as much as I wanted to go to his practice, I didn’t want to miss my younger son’s first game or leave it early.

But we had an option.

The practice field for baseball is a short walk from where we live. So, we asked him to go by himself. We armed him with a cell phone, a whistle, and a way to get in and out of the house. I knew he’d get to the field fine.

Still, I called the house a few times that morning to make sure. Called to check that he was okay. When I realized that the football game was going to start late, I called him and told him that he would need to walk home. I called to make sure that he arrived at the field. And, when his practice was over and we were still on the way home, I called to let him know that we were headed back. (We arrived close to the same time.)

He had a baseball scrimmage game on Sunday. I was there, keeping the book for his team and cheering loud. The game didn’t go particularly well. But my son drew a walk and scored his team’s only run. I was as proud of him as I was my younger son.

Both my boys are growing up.

Auburn's Biggest Problem: A Lack of Sex Appeal

2010-08-30T12:27:00.001-04:00

This summer has seen USC stripped of its 2004 titles. AP took it away a few months ago. The Football Writers Association of America stripped USC last week. And when some Auburn fans hoped that these organizations might award Auburn the National Title, they were disappointed that these organizations have chosen not to make a decision.

Yes, these organizations had a chance to make a call and as the old Steve Martin joke goes, they decided to “punt on first down.” Oklahoma wouldn’t have their loss if they hadn’t played USC. Yes, Auburn was 13-0, but it didn’t have the opportunity. Utah was 13-0 and had a good team. All the arguments for leaving 2004 a blank are out there.

The truth I, though, Auburn was never going to get it.

In 2004, with several teams undefeated, the powers that be chose two of them to play for the title. And Auburn wasn’t in the mix. Cries of an anti-SEC bias rang throughout the South, charges ESPN and others vehemently denied.

There was no anti-SEC bias in 2004. It was a pro-money bias.

You had four universities with undefeated seasons: Utah was out of the discussion due to the conference they played in. That left Auburn, USC, and Oklahoma. Two of these teams had been #1 and #2 the entire season, though Auburn did actually tie Oklahoma for the #2 spot one week in November. In the end, someone was going to be left out. Auburn got cited for its weak non-conference schedule and got left out. That’s garbage. The reason is what I call Auburn’s lack of sex appeal.

Certain universities have an image and that image translates into ratings. It mostly goes with being a perceived “old” power, even if that power has faded. A USC-Oklahoma clash for the title translates into bigger ratings for advertisers then either of those two schools and a match-up with Auburn. And there’s no getting around that. Could Auburn have competed with USC that day? Many of the detractors say that Auburn wouldn’t have had a chance. However, given the SEC’s run of BCS championships, you have to go back a ways to find a year when the SEC lost the title game. One-loss. Two losses. Hasn’t mattered. The SEC walked away with the title.

Money talked. USC and Oklahoma played. Had there been a way to make a profit out of it, I’m sure the AP and the FWAA would have found a way to declare a national champion.

This lack of appeal hurts us on the other side, too. We’ve been good for many years. Unfortunately, this means we’ll never be the trendy conference pick. If a no-power team from a power conference has its lightning year, the analysts jump all over it because it’s fun. I agree. It makes for a heartwarming story. Watching the Auburn-Northwestern game last year, I found myself wondering if it was possible for the analysts to be any more pro-Northwestern. Someone told me later that ESPN used its ESPN-Chicago group to do the game. (That explains it, I thought.)

There are other teams that have this same appeal problem. Michigan State comes to mind. Swap Auburn with Michigan State in 2004 (assuming Michigan State had a 13-0 year that year) and the same thing would have happened.

This “appeal” issue has been around for a while. In 1983, Auburn went 11-1 against what had to be one of the toughest schedules in history, a year in which all non-conference foes were ranked. The homecoming opponent that year, Maryland, was ranked in the Top 10. However, Auburn sat in the #3 slot with Nebraska and Texas #1 and #2 (and Aubunrn having lost to Texas early in the season). When both those teams lost, Auburn hoped to be #3, but discovered that Miami had vaulted them from the #4 spot, having beaten Nebraska in what was for the Hurricanes a home game. Nebraska, with its one loss, dropped to second. Auburn stayed at #3.

An analyst, I think it was Ivan Maisel, once referred to Auburn as the Boston Red Sox of college football in terms of respect. He made this comment prior to the Boston Red Sox winning their first World Series in nearly a century. Since then, the Rd Sox have gained that measure of respect they needed.

So it will have to be for Auburn. It will come down to Auburn not having a year where they are as good as the other teams. It will come down to a year where Auburn proves they are markedly better than the others teams. Only then will they have the right to play for the Championship.

A Cup of Coffee meets a Child in China

2010-08-24T05:00:00.000-04:00

My friend and fellow blogger C.J. Redwine is trying to adopt a little girl from China. Though originally schedule for 2005, this process has now gone on for five years.

Finally, there is an end in sight, but it will cost $8,000. C.J. has asked her friends to help her raise the money. It what she officially titles “Skip a Starbuck’s Day,” C.J. is asking people to forgo one daily visit to their favorite coffee shop and donate the money to help her bring home her daughter. C.J.’s story is below. I hope you will check it out.

From C.J. Redwine…
We had three biological boys in four years and then I was diagnosed with cervical cancer. I had a hysterectomy and while I mourned the fact that I couldn't have any more biological children, I was certain our family wasn't finished. My husband wasn't so sure. :) I'd talked about adopting and I always saw us with a little girl from China. He came up with a ton of reasons why now wasn't the right time to adopt. Then, on Mother's Day of 2005, he leaned over to me in church and said, "We have a daughter in China. We need to start the adoption proceedings to bring her home." I adjusted to this unexpected news (we hadn't discussed adoption for months) in about 15 seconds. :)

The next day, we began researching adoption and we picked out her name: Johanna Faith. Johanna means God's Gracious Gift and Faith is what it is taking to bring her home. We signed up with Chinese Children Adoption International agency based out of Colorado. We completed our stateside paperwork and homestudy within a few months, sent off our dossier to China with the understanding that it would be a 6-8 month wait, and eagerly planned to bring our daughter home. Soon, though, we began to hear rumors that the wait time was extending. Then we heard that the government had cracked down on orphanages who were receiving money from the state but who weren't keeping all of their beds full and the wait slowed to a crawl. Our dreams of having her home for Christmas were dashed. And then our dreams for having her home in time for summer were dashed as well. Before we knew it, another Christmas had passed and we were still waiting. Meanwhile, the Olympics were coming to Beijing, and the word was most adoption processes would stop altogether because China didn't want unfavorable international attention on their orphanages.

As the wait stretched from 8 months to three years, I struggled with depression. I could hardly bear Christmas, because she wasn't yet there. I shut the door of her bedroom and left it closed because I couldn't bear to walk past it in the hall. It hurt to think about having a child out there whom I couldn't protect. Couldn't love. Couldn't save. Three years became four with no real change. Our homestudy expired. Our immigration petition expired. Three times. Our fingerprints expired. Four times. And China raised the orphanage and court fees by thousands while we waited. Suddenly, the cushion of money we'd fundraised at the start of this process was almost gone and China was picking up speed in their child match program.

In September, it will be five years since we officially started our adoption process to bring Johanna home. We expect to receive her picture, information, and permission to travel sometime by the middle of September.

I opened her bedroom door for the first time in 3 1/2 years.

And we need to raise 8k to cover travel and the cash required to pay the orphanage for Johanna's freedom.

Please click on the picture below to be taken to C.J.’s website. Some wonderful prizes have been donated. The overall post is educational. The feeling is better than an espresso shot.

A Cup of Coffee Meets a Child In China

2010-08-24T02:00:00.000-04:00

Titanic Struggle

2010-08-17T06:17:00.000-04:00

My eight-year old son has become fascinated recently with the story of The Titanic. He brought home a book from the library and has been reading up on it. He knows that we have the movie so he asked to watch it.

At first, I said no.

While I applaud my son’s attempt to learn history and I’m willing to help as best I can, I didn’t want him watching the Titanic movie. And it had absolutely nothing to do with him seeing Kate Winslet nude, though that can be skipped over.

It had to do with the children.

The one indelible image I carry from that movie is the kids. Mothers putting their children to bed, knowing that the boat is sinking. A lifeboat returning to pick up survivors and the boat's passengers finding the dead floating in the ocean, including parents holding their children. It’s in those scenes that the director, James Cameron, captures the futility and the heartbreak. The movie was on TV recently. My wife and I watched the first half of it. We didn’t watch the second half.

Eventually, I gave in to my son’s request. He was reading about it. He wanted to learn more. He was asking questions about the iceberg and how it could have happened. (And, of course, there’s the old standby of “My classmates’ parents let them watch it.”)

The movie is long and it took about three sessions to actually get through it as our viewing impinged upon bedtimes and other scheduled activities. This served to break up the tension, had he watched it all the way through. As I expected, he asked a lot of questions. Some were easy.

“Dad, why does everything look so old?”
“Dad, why do icebergs float?”
“Dad, what happened to the girl’s mom?” (Actually, this question was a little difficult, as it was hard to explain to him that some of the characters in the movie, such as Benjamin Guggenheim and Molly Brown, were real people while the main characters were made up.)

But then the others proved a bigger challenge.

“Dad, how could they hit an iceberg?”
“Dad, in my book, there are other ships close. Why can’t they get there in time?”
“Dad, why don’t they have enough lifeboats?”
“Dad, why aren’t the lifeboats going back to get people?”

Even as an adult, it’s hard for me to understand the level of hubris combined with fear that led to the death of so many. The question that follows any attempt to understand a disaster like this is also followed with asking what you do about it.

My favorite Titanic-related story actually deals with Guglielmo Marconi, the Italian who invented wireless radio. In those days, radios broadcast on all frequencies, crowding out other senders and receivers. Marconi was so moved by the tragedy, he supposedly spent the rest of his life refining his technology in the hopes that nothing like it would ever happen again.

For now, all I can explain to my son is that sometimes bad things happen to people through no fault of their own.

For those of you with elementary school age children, would you let them watch Titanic?

Week 12: Auburn at Alabama

2010-08-16T05:00:00.003-04:00

November 26, 2010
Note to Reader: This is a pre-season prediction made in early August. If you found this information the week of the game, please note that my actual game preview will be posted on Wednesday with the postgame on Sunday. Please click on the Blog Archive 2010 heading to be taken to the weekly preview or postgame.

Last year’s loss went down to the wire. This year’s game will likely do the same. (Expect to hear Alabama whine about how Auburn had two weeks off while they had a tough contest against somebody. Granted, they've been whining already.) If Auburn can win the game, they'll go the SEC Championship game. I hope they do. However, I think Cameron Newton will come up short in a final drive.

Score Prediction: Alabama: 24, Auburn: 20.Record Prediction: 10-2

Week 11: Auburn vs. Georgia

2010-08-14T05:00:00.000-04:00

November 13, 2010
Note to Reader: This is a pre-season prediction made in early August. If you found this information the week of the game, please note that my actual game preview will be posted on Wednesday with the postgame on Sunday. Please click on the Blog Archive 2010 heading to be taken to the weekly preview or postgame.

Auburn has lost five straight to Georgia. We’ve been beaten, beaten ourselves, and just not had the ball fall our way. Today, that bad luck ends.

Score Prediction: Auburn: 29, Georgia: 21.
Record Prediction: 9-2

Week 10: Auburn vs. Chattanooga

2010-08-12T05:00:00.001-04:00

November 6, 2010
Note to Reader: This is a pre-season prediction made in early August. If you found this information the week of the game, please note that my actual game preview will be posted on Wednesday with the postgame on Sunday. Please click on the Blog Archive 2010 heading to be taken to the weekly preview or postgame.

Chattanooga comes to town. Auburn will be thinking about next week’s game against Georgia. The distraction won’t be enough for the Moccassins.

Score Prediction: Auburn: 41, Chattanooga: 13.
Record Prediction: 9-1