If Only Cell Phones Were Available...in 1991.
* * *
For all of the codgers (of which I am approaching that status more and
more each day) who bemoan the technology that children and teenagers
have in 2014, I offer this question.
If you're 40 or older, think back to when you were 16 or 17 and cruising the streets.
Wouldn't your social life have been so much more efficient with a cell phone?
I think of all those nights driving all over the St. Louis metro area
with my friends, on a mere "whim" that there would be a party at some
vague address in Chesterfield, or Kirkwood, or University City or in,
"South County".
My buddies Drew, Kenton and Jelani and I were
like detectives working a homicide case. We'd get a tip, reliable or
otherwise, at the Burger King or a Steak-n-Shake in Brentwood (now
demolished, RIP S'nS), about a party somewhere within 20 miles and we
would go.
You'd start scribbling down directions in shorthand,
long before GPS. "R on 40, L on Woods Mill, R on Clayton...". It was
crazy.
I can still hear Eddie Money crooning "Two Tickets to
Paradise" as we would search in vain, top down on my red Wrangler. One
of my friends would be going through this 100-page, spiral-bound atlas
of the St. Louis metro area that I kept in the Jeep.
Did I mention going through it with a flashlight?
Seriously.
That's how we did it. An atlas and a flashlight. My version of "uphill both ways in the blazing heat and the blinding snow".
I still remember this one night, that summer of 1991, where three of us
drove 117 miles all over the area. We found nothing. Then, as we're
gassing up (at least that was under a buck a gallon back then) at 1:30
in the morning, we run across a crew of people we know. They told us
where that particular party was.
We missed the party by three blocks.
I guess I didn't see the endless Camaros, Ford Escorts, IROCs and Bonnevilles parked on the side of the road.
In 1991, I did have one buddy with a cell phone. David drove this
white Pontiac Grand Am and liked to flash the cell phone like he was the
Fresh Prince in "Parents Just Don't Understand". Except no one else we
knew had a cell phone and it wasn't like people were sitting at home on
a Friday night to call. Like giving a fish a bicycle.
Sometimes our quests would locate a party. Most times they wouldn't.
However, those journeys often elicited hilarious stories and incidents
that I remember all these years later. Perhaps not having a piece of
technology we all take for granted in 2014 was not a bad thing.
And, to think, WE thought we knew everything. We would watch "American Graffiti" and laugh at THOSE old codgers.
Yet we were the same codgers. Just with worse haircuts.
Thursday, August 7, 2014
A Daughter's Push To Me to Keep Pushing Ahead
A Daughter's Push To Me to Keep Pushing Ahead
* * *
(As a prelude, I offer a heartfelt "thank you" for the messages, the comments and the notes on my post from Sunday about the four boys from Western Dubuque. On top of this, the news of two more fatalities today of young people near Mount Vernon hurts even more.)
I'm off on Mondays but, all summer, I have strived to "make something of my Mondays". They are "my Saturdays", after all. So far, this has been accomplished with vigor, gusto and any of my other favorite words of the Queen's English that I rarely use. Two Mondays ago, I drove 1,000 miles for a family get-together. Last Monday, another 600 miles to complete said family get-together.
It was 9:07 a.m. this morning. I didn't want to tackle the project that I said I would.
Constructing a deck.
I can read a TelePrompTer with, uh, vigor and gusto. I can write a story for television news. Even here, I can write with some level of proficiency.
I'm a talker, a writer. Not a builder.
Yet I promised my family that I would complete this, preferably sooner than August 4th.
The task was simple but quite deliberate. Measuring, cutting and screwing 23 boards - each 14-feet long - for a 12x14 back deck. The month before, I took out the old, rotted boards, sliced them up and drove them to the landfill.
Today should have been the easy part.
The checklist in my head. Gather the extension cord, the radio, a gigantic cup of water and enlist each of our children to help, in whatever ways.
Our daughter stood by me, helping with these 37-pound boards (37 pounds!) so I could break out the power saw and slice off an inch from these boards, which were about 14'1".
Enter the neighbor that everyone should have. "Oz" is a snowbird but could probably build a rocket ship out of his tools and materials in the garage that could carry a chimpanzee into Earth's orbit. He brought more saws, cords and his patient advice.
For ninety minutes, Oz showed how the cut the boards, space them out and left me to mess it all up on my own.
Only I didn't.
Make that "we" didn't.
Our daughter is only 9 but I was flummoxed at her insistence on being a part of this project. Initially, I figured she would just take the dog out when I asked and bring me water.
Nope. She wanted to be, truly, involved in the project.
We had 23 boards to knock out. My goal for the day was to put ten in place. Do the rest on Tuesday. Perhaps the day after.
I explained to her the importance of consistent spacing on the boards, especially with the curve in the boards.
"They're like your braces and this clamp will hold the boards together in the right space," I explained.
She totally got it right away.
Instead of merely handing me a tape measure, this little girl wanted to be a grown-up today. She wanted to work the power drill, wanted to figure out how to put the clamps in place, handing me the 2" deck screws to put each board in place. (To offer some scope here, each board had to be screwed in at eight different points.)
By noon, I needed to take twenty minutes to re-charge. Only seven boards were in place. A long day ahead. "Why do I do these ambitious excursions on my days off?", I wondered.
When I walked back out to the deck, she was there, ready for the afternoon session.
Seven boards in place became nine, became twelve. At about 2 p.m., I was spent. Legs sore from walking under the deck and stepping high between the boards (imagine a professional wrestler entering the ring over the top rope -- I did the physical equivalent of this about 150 times today).
"I think we're probably good for today," I said, with two parts exhaustion and one part defeat.
"What time is it?" my daughter asked.
"Probably about 2:15."
"So you would have two hours left," she said. "We can do it."
She even brought me the cup of ice cold water to try and revive my energy.
Then it hit me. For anyone over 40, you'll get this: My daughter was Punky Brewster and I was her cranky foster parent, Henry. You remember him... Punky would want to go roller skating and Henry would grumble, "Bah, no Punky, eat your oatmeal and go to bed so I can watch 'Murder, She Wrote'. I only took you in for the tax write-off." (Okay, he didn't say that last sentence. One tangent that may make you smile: I found out today that actor who played Punky's father is still with us at age 97. Mildly surprised.)
She said "we can do it."
And we did. She would struggle and battle with her little limbs (adorned in day-glo colored socks, of course) to lift these 14-foot boards and bring them over to me so I wouldn't have to push up and bend, my joins creaking like an old rocking chair on a wooden floor. We talked all throughout the day, about school, about carpentry (she probably understands more than I do), of the importance of finishing the job.
The last three boards went in around 4 p.m. Ever go on a road trip where you drive 600 miles in a day? Those last twenty miles are like a dream, right? The culmination of a journey.
Cue the "Top Gun" instrumental when Maverick lands back on the deck after shooting down the unnamed-Communist Migs as he makes amends with Iceman.
An hour after the deck was complete, we drove off for dinner. I wanted to treat her. Her answer was predictable. Hy-Vee Chinese. Okay, I think. Let's go.
We're in the car, stuck in traffic. I had to confess.
"You know, I underestimated you today," I said. "I really thought all you would want to do would be to get me water and check in on me every so often. I didn't think you'd want to be as involved as you were today. I'm very proud of you and all that we did. I'm sorry I underestimated you."
"Okay," she said with a smile, letting it all fall off her back like a child does.
We sat there as I watched her devour multiple plates of Crab Rangoon and Sesame Chicken. She told me this was a great day as we ate. I was even too tired to really make any conversation, a rarity for me. My muscles and bones were mush from all the deck work.
"Dad, why don't they make grape ice cream?" she asked, perhaps the deepest question of all. Then she wanted to go swimming. Yes. Swimming after being outside with me all day.
Of course, I took her swimming. Both kids, actually. I couldn't even pull myself into the water from exhaustion yet I watched the kids playing, from a distance, and found it so... heartwarming.
Have you seen the Extra Gum "origami" commercial? Look it up and watch it. This day was one of those days, a day where the two of us spent seven hours working through a project that, when it started I was dreading and, eventually, powered through. We saw it through. We finished it.
She believed I could do it when I did not.
She's still at that age where she thinks Dad has some super hero qualities. I'd better enjoy these fleeting days, right?
Ten years from now, our daughter will be on the edge of 20. I hope that she comes home at some point, in that summer of 2024, and we will sit out on that deck, laughing about whatever is important and her world.
I hope one of us asks:
"Remember when we built this?"
I hope she is the one who asks it.
* * *
(As a prelude, I offer a heartfelt "thank you" for the messages, the comments and the notes on my post from Sunday about the four boys from Western Dubuque. On top of this, the news of two more fatalities today of young people near Mount Vernon hurts even more.)
I'm off on Mondays but, all summer, I have strived to "make something of my Mondays". They are "my Saturdays", after all. So far, this has been accomplished with vigor, gusto and any of my other favorite words of the Queen's English that I rarely use. Two Mondays ago, I drove 1,000 miles for a family get-together. Last Monday, another 600 miles to complete said family get-together.
It was 9:07 a.m. this morning. I didn't want to tackle the project that I said I would.
Constructing a deck.
I can read a TelePrompTer with, uh, vigor and gusto. I can write a story for television news. Even here, I can write with some level of proficiency.
I'm a talker, a writer. Not a builder.
Yet I promised my family that I would complete this, preferably sooner than August 4th.
The task was simple but quite deliberate. Measuring, cutting and screwing 23 boards - each 14-feet long - for a 12x14 back deck. The month before, I took out the old, rotted boards, sliced them up and drove them to the landfill.
Today should have been the easy part.
The checklist in my head. Gather the extension cord, the radio, a gigantic cup of water and enlist each of our children to help, in whatever ways.
Our daughter stood by me, helping with these 37-pound boards (37 pounds!) so I could break out the power saw and slice off an inch from these boards, which were about 14'1".
Enter the neighbor that everyone should have. "Oz" is a snowbird but could probably build a rocket ship out of his tools and materials in the garage that could carry a chimpanzee into Earth's orbit. He brought more saws, cords and his patient advice.
For ninety minutes, Oz showed how the cut the boards, space them out and left me to mess it all up on my own.
Only I didn't.
Make that "we" didn't.
Our daughter is only 9 but I was flummoxed at her insistence on being a part of this project. Initially, I figured she would just take the dog out when I asked and bring me water.
Nope. She wanted to be, truly, involved in the project.
We had 23 boards to knock out. My goal for the day was to put ten in place. Do the rest on Tuesday. Perhaps the day after.
I explained to her the importance of consistent spacing on the boards, especially with the curve in the boards.
"They're like your braces and this clamp will hold the boards together in the right space," I explained.
She totally got it right away.
Instead of merely handing me a tape measure, this little girl wanted to be a grown-up today. She wanted to work the power drill, wanted to figure out how to put the clamps in place, handing me the 2" deck screws to put each board in place. (To offer some scope here, each board had to be screwed in at eight different points.)
By noon, I needed to take twenty minutes to re-charge. Only seven boards were in place. A long day ahead. "Why do I do these ambitious excursions on my days off?", I wondered.
When I walked back out to the deck, she was there, ready for the afternoon session.
Seven boards in place became nine, became twelve. At about 2 p.m., I was spent. Legs sore from walking under the deck and stepping high between the boards (imagine a professional wrestler entering the ring over the top rope -- I did the physical equivalent of this about 150 times today).
"I think we're probably good for today," I said, with two parts exhaustion and one part defeat.
"What time is it?" my daughter asked.
"Probably about 2:15."
"So you would have two hours left," she said. "We can do it."
She even brought me the cup of ice cold water to try and revive my energy.
Then it hit me. For anyone over 40, you'll get this: My daughter was Punky Brewster and I was her cranky foster parent, Henry. You remember him... Punky would want to go roller skating and Henry would grumble, "Bah, no Punky, eat your oatmeal and go to bed so I can watch 'Murder, She Wrote'. I only took you in for the tax write-off." (Okay, he didn't say that last sentence. One tangent that may make you smile: I found out today that actor who played Punky's father is still with us at age 97. Mildly surprised.)
She said "we can do it."
And we did. She would struggle and battle with her little limbs (adorned in day-glo colored socks, of course) to lift these 14-foot boards and bring them over to me so I wouldn't have to push up and bend, my joins creaking like an old rocking chair on a wooden floor. We talked all throughout the day, about school, about carpentry (she probably understands more than I do), of the importance of finishing the job.
The last three boards went in around 4 p.m. Ever go on a road trip where you drive 600 miles in a day? Those last twenty miles are like a dream, right? The culmination of a journey.
Cue the "Top Gun" instrumental when Maverick lands back on the deck after shooting down the unnamed-Communist Migs as he makes amends with Iceman.
An hour after the deck was complete, we drove off for dinner. I wanted to treat her. Her answer was predictable. Hy-Vee Chinese. Okay, I think. Let's go.
We're in the car, stuck in traffic. I had to confess.
"You know, I underestimated you today," I said. "I really thought all you would want to do would be to get me water and check in on me every so often. I didn't think you'd want to be as involved as you were today. I'm very proud of you and all that we did. I'm sorry I underestimated you."
"Okay," she said with a smile, letting it all fall off her back like a child does.
We sat there as I watched her devour multiple plates of Crab Rangoon and Sesame Chicken. She told me this was a great day as we ate. I was even too tired to really make any conversation, a rarity for me. My muscles and bones were mush from all the deck work.
"Dad, why don't they make grape ice cream?" she asked, perhaps the deepest question of all. Then she wanted to go swimming. Yes. Swimming after being outside with me all day.
Of course, I took her swimming. Both kids, actually. I couldn't even pull myself into the water from exhaustion yet I watched the kids playing, from a distance, and found it so... heartwarming.
Have you seen the Extra Gum "origami" commercial? Look it up and watch it. This day was one of those days, a day where the two of us spent seven hours working through a project that, when it started I was dreading and, eventually, powered through. We saw it through. We finished it.
She believed I could do it when I did not.
She's still at that age where she thinks Dad has some super hero qualities. I'd better enjoy these fleeting days, right?
Ten years from now, our daughter will be on the edge of 20. I hope that she comes home at some point, in that summer of 2024, and we will sit out on that deck, laughing about whatever is important and her world.
I hope one of us asks:
"Remember when we built this?"
I hope she is the one who asks it.
Monday, July 4, 2011
July 2011
July brings my birthday, the fourth of July and what feels like the first days of summer vacation.
In June - we had a lots of 8U baseball, including the state tournament in Des Moines, where we also enjoyed a day at Adventureland and a side trip to Jordan Creek Mall. Sam attended a Kennedy basketball camp and Katherine experienced her first Coe College basketball camp - she has an extremely good knack at defense. She is also quite a good little shooter.
We enjoyed a visit from Papa John and Gigi in mid June - it was fantastic to share our crazy life with them for a few days - they were able to watch three of Sam's baseball games and Katherine's dance recital. We also were able to share a few meals and catch a movie. It was especially awesome for to be with Papa John on Father's Day.
Sam went off to Camp Io-dis-e-ca for three nights and four days - mom missed him horribly, he was a little homesick but had a fabulous and fun time. While he was gone - Kate went to four days of Pony Camp in Springville. She was able to ride two of the pony's Snickers and Reba and also a huge stallion named Oscar. It was a long distance to drive back and forth but she loved it so much.
The last few days we finally had our roof replaced - hallelujah - it seems we've been saving for it forever! There were some minor glitches, but in the end it worked out okay but still emptied our savings account. Now it's on to the bathroom and then some saving to replace a car or van.
Our swim pass has also been very helpful for the summer - we are at the pool almost every day. Sam has braved the Ellis Pool high dive and Kate is finally tall enough to travel down the blue slide!
Kate has taken her deep water test twice now. It's amazing how she just decided she was going to do the front crawl the first time she took the test without ever even practicing...she just has to learn to swim underwater and she'll be flying off the diving boards too. Hopefully we'll sign the kids up for swim lessons later in the month to help them both with their technique.
Birthdays always bring pause for reflection. I hope to continue to focus on experiences and not materialistic possessions, enjoying my family and friends and living in the moment.
In June - we had a lots of 8U baseball, including the state tournament in Des Moines, where we also enjoyed a day at Adventureland and a side trip to Jordan Creek Mall. Sam attended a Kennedy basketball camp and Katherine experienced her first Coe College basketball camp - she has an extremely good knack at defense. She is also quite a good little shooter.
We enjoyed a visit from Papa John and Gigi in mid June - it was fantastic to share our crazy life with them for a few days - they were able to watch three of Sam's baseball games and Katherine's dance recital. We also were able to share a few meals and catch a movie. It was especially awesome for to be with Papa John on Father's Day.
Sam went off to Camp Io-dis-e-ca for three nights and four days - mom missed him horribly, he was a little homesick but had a fabulous and fun time. While he was gone - Kate went to four days of Pony Camp in Springville. She was able to ride two of the pony's Snickers and Reba and also a huge stallion named Oscar. It was a long distance to drive back and forth but she loved it so much.
The last few days we finally had our roof replaced - hallelujah - it seems we've been saving for it forever! There were some minor glitches, but in the end it worked out okay but still emptied our savings account. Now it's on to the bathroom and then some saving to replace a car or van.
Our swim pass has also been very helpful for the summer - we are at the pool almost every day. Sam has braved the Ellis Pool high dive and Kate is finally tall enough to travel down the blue slide!
Kate has taken her deep water test twice now. It's amazing how she just decided she was going to do the front crawl the first time she took the test without ever even practicing...she just has to learn to swim underwater and she'll be flying off the diving boards too. Hopefully we'll sign the kids up for swim lessons later in the month to help them both with their technique.
Birthdays always bring pause for reflection. I hope to continue to focus on experiences and not materialistic possessions, enjoying my family and friends and living in the moment.
 |
| Katherine in her dance costume for Musical Theater |
 |
| Sam and mom before he leaves for camp. |
 |
| Kate riding Oscar. |
 |
| Sam jumping off the high dive at Ellis Pool. |
 |
| Beautiful Kate on Oscar at Pony Camp. |
Sunday, June 5, 2011
The start of summer vacation
We wrapped up the school year. Kate finished kindergarten. Over the past year she has learned to read, spell, add and subtract and remains extremely creative. She is always interested in crafting, drawing, coloring and pretend play. Sam finished third grade. His ITBS scores place his learning level at the 99th percentile and in seventh grade. He wishes he didn't have to take summer break as he wants to learn, learn, learn. However, his Cougar baseball team calls and he needs to take a break from learning to play ball!
With pool passes on hand on Memorial Day - we've already made two trips to the pool - Sam has braved the drop and yellow slide. Miss Katherine - who is finally as tall as the otter's nose experienced the big, blue slide - proud and triumphant of her feat - she quickly exits the pool for another round. Hopefully by the end of the summer - both kids will be proficient swimmers.
Yesterday - after six hours and four games of baseball - in the sweltering heat - we had a taste of what the summer will bring - pool, baseball, friends and fun! Kate is a trooper - hanging out at baseball diamonds without a single complaint - being joyful, sweet and curious to find new friends.
With pool passes on hand on Memorial Day - we've already made two trips to the pool - Sam has braved the drop and yellow slide. Miss Katherine - who is finally as tall as the otter's nose experienced the big, blue slide - proud and triumphant of her feat - she quickly exits the pool for another round. Hopefully by the end of the summer - both kids will be proficient swimmers.
Yesterday - after six hours and four games of baseball - in the sweltering heat - we had a taste of what the summer will bring - pool, baseball, friends and fun! Kate is a trooper - hanging out at baseball diamonds without a single complaint - being joyful, sweet and curious to find new friends.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
To remember
Feb. 24 Katie lost her first tooth. "Now my tongue has a bed to sleep in."
Feb. 27 Kate has her friend LuLu spend the night. Over the course of the night I remove a completely dry towel from the bottom of the bath tub three times - Kate - what are you doing? It's our changing room - Lucy changes in the bathtub and I change in the bathroom - we are together but each have privacy. Of course!
Feb. 27 Kate has her friend LuLu spend the night. Over the course of the night I remove a completely dry towel from the bottom of the bath tub three times - Kate - what are you doing? It's our changing room - Lucy changes in the bathtub and I change in the bathroom - we are together but each have privacy. Of course!
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Katherine's 6th Birthday & first Coe BBall Game
 |
| Sam with Bamboo at Kate's 6th Birthday Party. |
 |
| The Birthday Girl = SIX! |
 |
| Working hard at the Coe/UNI game as team Water/Ball Boy! |
 |
| Waiting for the team to arrive! |
Friday, August 27, 2010
First week of school
The house is a bit quieter with two in school - here are photos of the first day.
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