Our Tea Party

I'm skipping all over the place here, in subject matter and chronology. My wife is pestering me to write about the house but I'm so sick of the subject (having just lived it) that I'd rather puke up my dinner and have it for breakfast.

On that pleasant note, here's some pics of a tea (apple juice) party LuLu held with a set she got for her birthday.

The quote of that day: "I went to a real tea party once when I was in England," Lisa told Lu, hoping to impress her.

Lu glared at her. "This IS a weal tea party" she retorted.

 

Tags: LuLu

Book Review - Spare Change

 

Spare Change

By Robert B Parker

Penguin Group

320 pages

 

Ten years ago Robert B. Parker, the creator and author of the Spenser novels, seemed to have fallen into a creative rut.

 

He still kept to a publishing schedule of a novel a year but to long-time fans they seemed to have larger type, run shorter in length, and feature limited character development.

 

For lack of a better phrase, he appeared to be writing more out of habit than anything else.

 

The chances of a novelist, twenty-five years into a successful career, suddenly coming across a creative second wind are slim at best.

 

Somehow, Parker made it happen.

 

As the '90's drew to a close Parker increased his output to around two books a year. He expanded his repertoire to include two new protagonists, Jesse Stone and Sunny Randall, a young adult novel and a handful of non-series books.

 

His latest work Spare Change, is the sixth Sunny Randall novel, a series originally created as a vehicle for Helen Hunt (the movie was never made).

 

The title refers to a Boston serial killer who, as a calling card, would leave three coins behind with his victims. Spare Change seemed to abruptly 'retire' twenty years ago without being identified. Now he'sback and again taunting the man once charged with stopping him, Sunny's father, retired officer Phil Randall.

 

"Hi Phil: You miss me? I got bored, so I thought I'd re-establish our relationship. Give us both something to do in our later years. Stay tuned. Spare Change."

 

Soon Phil and Sunny identify a man they believe is the killer and a cat and mouse game develops, with Sunny dangled as bait for the suspect.

 

On one hand is Sunny herself:  attractive, capable, and convinced she's got the right suspect; and on the other a lonely man who may simply crave attention - or be out for blood.

 

At the heart of every Parker novel is the internal search for the characters 'center'.  In Sunny's case this revolves in large part around her relationship with her ex-husband Ritchie. Although he is now remarried, neither can seem to distance themselves from one another and as the Spare Change case grows so does the likelihood of a renewed relationship.

 

The case also causes her to examine her role within her own family and the enabling behavior of her father.

 

The plot of Spare Change is straightforward but intense and features a brisk pace I don't remember from Parker's earlier Randall efforts. Even the early revelation of the killer's identity causes only a slight bump in the narrative flow, and the crime's resolution is crisp and attention grabbing - even if the book's ending itself is anti-climactic and unnecessary.

 

As usual there is too much psychoanalysis (Parker, if nothing else, is a fan of the therapist's chair), far too much devotion to a canine, a convoluted romantic situation modeled in part on the author's own unique marital situation, and the standard assortment of Parker regulars.

 

Even with those flaws Spare Change stands as a fine introduction to the series for new readers and a solid and impressive continuation of it for Parker fans.

 

Tags: Robert B Parker, Sunny Randall, Book Review

YaYa's K5 Graduation

[First off, let it be known to history that the time-stamp on these and all my photos from May/June of this year are YEARS off. I assure you, unless I stepped into a wormhole it is NOT March of 2004. ]

My YaYa has graduated from Kindergarten, in a very nice ceremony held in her school library.

Ditching the stereotypes of schoolchildren, they sang very loudly and without the trace of shyness. The songs were very cute - yes, some brief video exists, if only I knew how to load it here! - but I forget their names. [Lis, if you remember drop the titles in the comment section]

Here's YaYa with her teacher Mrs. Charney

and her proud parents.

I don't remember my Kindergarten graduation, if I had one. I do recall graduating from pre-school and changing seats with my best friend Danny Kellogg. 29 years later, I'm in the audience. My how time flies.

[Hey, I think I managed to upload the video after all! . . er, no. I guess this is video of YaYa and her friend Meadow performing a play at Lu's 4th birthday party. I'll move it to that entry when I get around to writing it]

One goofy thing - they had the graduation, then had three days of school afterwards. What's up with that?

Tags: Kindergarten, graduation

Gone Fishin'

Lisa did something that freaked me out a few weeks ago.

In her newfound obsession with Craigslist, she located a new friend for LuLu after reading a classified ad looking for a 4 year old playmate.

Against all odds it turned out to be legitimate, and LuLu's picked up a new friend.

Last Sunday her father invited me and the girls fishing. For my gals it was their first time ever, and it's been a good 10 year layoff for me.

We were supposed to meet after church, but when Mass was cancelled (just that specific mass, due to the church festival) we had an hour to kill at the park.

Much of the time was spent on the playset, but we also had a rollie-pollie bug that got YaYa's attention.

It is a beautiful park, and not too far from home, only 5 minutes or so.

Just as we were about to go (the meeting time had passed) Lu's friend showed up and in a short while we were fishing.

First to catch anything: Lu! Her pole snagged a tiny fish in the brief moment after a bad cast.

Not bad! Especially since I myself have NEVER caught a fish!

Then YaYa snagged one, this time a bigger one with sharp barbs on it's back (a bluegill I think).

C'mon people - couldn't I catch one just once??

That was it for the 'success' part of the day. The girls LOVED it, which shocked me and led me to regret giving away my fishing poles when we moved.

They stayed patient and well behaved nearly the whole time, 'tho they resorted to playing a racing game near the end.

Much thanks go out to Jim, LuLu's friends Dad, for the invitation, and I guess to my wife and Craigslist too!

Tags: Fishing, Craigslist

Book Review of Scavenger

I've been chewing up novels lately. Spare Change by Robert B Parker, The Good Guy by Dean Koontz, Bad Luck and Trouble by Lee Child, etc.

I know I wrote a brief opinion on Scavenger earlier, but here's a full length review that should be published in a Yakutat (Alaska!) newspaper this week.

BTW and irrelevant  - I gag at the sight of the pic on the sidebar. I really neeed to update that.

* * * * *

Scavenger

By David Morrell

349 pages

Vanguard Press, $24.95

 

 

Few novelists have had a career as long and successful as David Morrell. The award winning author of 28 novels and self described 'father of the modern action novel', he can also boast of creating one of fiction's most recognizable characters: John Rambo of First Blood.

 

Morrell's reputation is spelled out in praise from the likes of Stephen King, Michael Conelly, and Lee Child on the dustjacket for his newest book.

 

' . . . crack open another instant classic,' one loving blurb reads.

 

Not quite.

 

In Scavenger Morrell brings back Frank Balenger, the hero of 2005's Creepers.  Frank is now romantically involved with Amanda, the woman he rescued in the previous book. No sooner do they grow comfortable then she is kidnapped and awakens to find herself at the mercy of the Game Master, an unseen enemy who manipulates a group of six people into locating a 100 year old time capsule. They have 48 hours to do so, and refusing his wishes isn't an option.

 

Meanwhile Frank is on a quest of his own, to find both the Game Master and Amanda, all the while with the police viewing him with suspicion and another unknown enemy doing her best to stop him.

 

At times Morrell seems so intent on keeping pace with the plot's 48 hour deadline that any true focus or intent is lost. Like Creepers, Scavenger has a premise worthy of a good dustjacket sales pitch; a historical mystery, a relatively obscure but fascinating obsession (in this case, geocaching), an established hero, and a creepy bad guy.

 

What it doesn't have is a plot more developed than that of a network TV show, characters worthy of emotional attachment, or a satisfying resolution.

 

Morrell has never been known for delving deeply into the souls of his characters, preferring to let the action speak for itself, and Scavenger is no exception. Most of the time this method works just fine, as there is little need for psychoanalysis while traipsing through the mountains with a madman on your heels.

 

It's only when the characters react out of some unexplored but overpowering urge that the method fails. One of the men subjected to the Game Master's perverse, Saw-like gameplay acts out in ways that scream for an explanation longer than a mere sentence or two. Because Morrell fails to provide that information, the actions seem out of sorts and contrived.

 

The rationale behind the Game Master is the only legitimate attempt to explain a character's behavior, and sadly this too fails, mired in an over-the-top comic book explanation.

 

Like Creepers, Morrell ends the novel with an author's note, this time stretching for more than ten pages. Ordinarily a glimpse into an author's mind would be a satisfying and welcome end to a great read.  In this case, however, it comes off as little more than an extended and self-serving rationale for a failed project.

 

Scavenger is fine for a brief and disposable summer read, but an 'instant classic' it is not.

Tags: Svavenger, book review

The Ghost in the House

My wife is convinced our house is haunted.

Not in a Poltergeist/Exorcist fashion, but haunted none-the-less.

I should start out by mentioning that she is not prone to a strong belief in the supernatural or occult. You won't catch her bragging about being abducted by UFO's - in fact, she's so anti-those things that she despises any form of Sci-fi as garbage.

But she believes our house is haunted.

She's reported hearing footsteps when no one is upstairs, heard whispers in her ear while in the living room, and been exposed to mysterious bumps and noises around the house. Her Mom agrees and provided some of her own evidence to back her up.

I don't agree with their assessment. I don't disbelieve in ghosts per se, although I view their 'existence' as contradictory to not only Christianity, but atheism and most religions - and personally I reject them because I hate the idea that any God would make you spend eternity rattling chains in an attic..

I chalk up the noises to the creaks and moans of an old house and reckon the whispers were a rare figment of her imagination.

But I suppose our home suits itself to a haunting, if such things are real. It's 115 years old and at a minimum two people have died there (both my great-grandparents on my maternal grandma's side).

I'm going to cling to the notion that if the ghost exists, it's benign. After all, my ancestors would have no cause to wish me harm.. . except, you know, for tearing apart and remodeling their house.

I'll admit, I myself have heard the mysterious bumps in the night (isolated, it seems, to the Northwest corner of the house, which would seem to provide a clue to a terrestrial explanation of some sort).

You're sitting there, minding your own business, and boom. It sounds, for all intents and purposes, like one of the kids was screwing around and dumped something off their dresser.

But, uh, their all sitting there watching Spongebob with you. And when you go upstairs, nothings amiss.

I should also mention one genuinely terrifying moment. About 2 am one night my wife woke up screaming, saying that someone was in the bedroom. In about 2/10ths of a second I was out of bed and, scared out of my mind, ready for anything. I saw something streak across my vision and I went to the doorway to intercept it, but there was nothing there.

Sure, it was spooky and intense. But . . .

My explanation: my wife often holds entire, non-sensiscal conversations in her sleep. I think she woke up mid-sentence and in that horrifying twilight between dreams and reality, mistook one for the other.

The streak I saw was very light, possibly white - which just happens to be the color of AngelCakes, our cat, who often comes to rest in our room or YaYa's. She could easily have been startled by our reactions. Lord knows she could avoid me and slink off to other parts of the house in a second. In my half-awake state I probably wouldn't have noticed.

So is the house haunted? No way to answer that, it's all subjective. If it is, here's hoping they keep to their own realm.

On this subject at least, I'd prefer to be kept in the dark.

Tags: ghosts, Nostalgia Avenue

Just Baseball . .and weather

Man, I've got a lot to catch up on. The various celebrations related to LuLu's 4th (and Golden) birthday, more of the house story, soccer pics and more.

I'll try to get to some of it this weekend.

* * * *
I took some time off work to watch MLB's 1st televised amateur player draft. Not the most exciting time I've ever had, but interesting and something I'll repeat. Since at least '04 I've drooled over Baseball America's annual draft preview issue, and I enjoyed following along with the magazine as name after name was called.

Not sure I agree with the Brewers pick of Matt Laporta, but whatda I know?

Later in the evening I had the distinct privilege of watching Alex Rodriguez hit a grand slam in the 9th at U.S. Cellular in Chicago.

I had the TV on mute, and tuned in just in time to see ARod dump one into the seats.

Followed immediately by shots of thousands of White Sox fans streaming for the exits, conscious that the game was now out of reach.

Of course, the announcers spent the bottom of the ninth praising . . . . Derek Jeter.

Man, I loved that guy. But all this Jeter-love at ARod's expense is muddying the waters. It's getting to the point where I don't even like hearing his name.

* * * *

Equally beautiful - watching A-Rod hit a 2 out, 2 strike pitch in the 9th to put the Yanks ahead of the Red Sox at Fenway.

Almost as beautiful - having him hit it off Jonathon Pappelon (sp?).

I find nothing more annoying/childish/asinine than the 'competitive' stare that yahoo displays on the mound. Makes me want to smack the schmuck.

* * *

Might I point out that with all respect to the horrific tornadoes in other parts of the state, yesterday's "perfect storm -batten down the hatches - here comes the big one" drama was living proof of why I ignore TV meteorologists.

First there was the mayor of Milwaukee holding a press conference about preparing for the storm, then dire prediction after dire prediction from TV folk warning you to chain down your grills and put your lawn furniture in storage to avoid the high winds.

Here's what happened. At 11 o'clock we had some lightning, about 10 minutes of torrential rain, some wind, and that's all folks.

Come the AM everyone was alive and well and only a few twigs (not even branches) had been shaken loose up and down the block.

Whoo-hoo.

And you wonder why I question 'global warming' . . .

Quick reviews

First off, my sincere thanks to Joe at Magic Smoke for solving the simple but perplexing problem of loading pics from my Hometown account.

Secondly, I had the misfortune of seeing most (but God bless, not all) of Halle Berry's Catwoman last night. Truly, woefully awful. Bad computer animation, a goofy plot, and amateur-hour acting. What a tour de force.

I also watched The Fountain, a movie I was eager to rent. I'm ashamed to admit that either it's a convoluted mess of a film or I'm too stupid to figure it out. I can't even mold the plot into a coherent summary, so hit amazon or the like if you want to read up on it.

I polished off the third book in Bernard Cornwell's Saxon Chronicles, The Lords of the North, while suffering through Catwoman.

Typical Cornwell: livid, action packed historical novels that don't beat you over the head with plot but keep you riveted throughtout none-the-less. I certainly would not have ever studied up on or learned to admire Alfred the Great if not for this series.

 

Tags: Bernard Cornwell, Alfred the Great, Catwoman, The Fountain, Halle Berry

Pics of My wife

Here's one of my favorite pictures of my wife, albeit one taken three years or so before I met her, when she was 15 or so. I would never normally have taken the time to upload it but with the new system it only took a minute, so here goes.

Most folks say she looks sad, but I think she looks beautiful. It appears to be taken at Six Flags Great America.

Here's a pic of her taken within months after we met. Man, I loved that shirt.

 

The Dance Recital 2007

If it doesn't violate copyright laws (and it does), and if I can figure out how to do it, I'll post some video of the girls in action when the DVD arrives.

Meanwhile, let's try to upload some of the post-show pics directly off my flashdrive. This method doesn't allow me to tweak the photos - hence the red-eye - but que sera sera.

Lis sent me to get the girls a ballerina statue from Family Dollar.

 

Their Grandma Jeanne bought them each a rose, which they both broke. Thank heavens they broke at the same place, eliminating any arguements between the girls.

Here's Lu with her Grandpa Dennis.

and YaYa with my Dad

Here's the girls with Grandma Jeanne and Grandpa Jaspare

 

In attendence were all the grandparent's from my wife's side, my father and sister Katie, and Lisa's friend Chris.

After the show, despite being 10 at night, we took the girls out to Bella's Fat Cat for dinner and ice cream.

Both girls, btw, did great. I was genuinely surprised by how YaYa's moves actually looked, well, ballet-like and not just like a kid playing ballerina. LuLu continues to grow more outgoing, smiling and enjoying herself on stage.

I loved 'em, and so did everyone there to support them.

Quote of the Day

Naw, the problem with the uploads isn't fixed, but Joe aka the Journals editor, gave me a hint to work around it.

Anyhow, I wanted to post this quote up here. I found it in a sales magazine and immediately felt inspired:

Regret for wasted time is more wasted time - Mason Cooley

* * *

On an unrelated matter, I wanted to quickly post one recollection of the spring before it is lost to the ages.

My wife called me one day to say that YaYa had unbuckled herself, moved from the back of the van to the center, and opened the sliding door - ON THE FREEWAY AT 60 MPH.

Why she would do this was never explained to any adult's satisfaction, nor can I figure out how she overcame the supposed child-lock in place on the door (pretty plain that we'd somehow removed that before the incident).

I mean - yikes.

An odd choice for a picture experiment

AOL Journals has gone all fancy-dancy, allowing you four options to upload pics to your blog. The standard option, the one that allows me to post the masthead, is erroring out for over a week. [The Journals Editor is working on it, I believe] So here's two pics I did using the 'upload from your computer' option.

Last Saturday on the day of her recital LuLu decided [it was,by her own admission, for no discernable reason] to pick up a hot curling iron Lisa was using on YaYa and put it in/by her mouth.

A toy 'microphone' perhaps?

The result was a set of blistered lips that nearly landed her in the Urgent Care clinic. She toughed it out and went on with the show, largely forgetting about the injury. In fact, while at the show she changed her mind and asked for some lipstick.

So anyhow - here's two pics of the aftermath. They've started to heal nicely now.

Some more reviews

I've spent the last few weeks enjoying a newly cleared library card and a resurgent interest in Netflix.

 

Naturally, I feel compelled to share my opinions of these books/movies with you.

 

Blue Screen, a Sunny Randall book  by Robert B. Parker was a decent read that overcame a weak plot and a stereotypical prostitute turned actress. What made the book sing for me was the brief (and largely inconsequential) baseball subplot involving a woman trying to break into the Major Leagues.

 

[On that note: my God are the Yanks having a bad start to the year. This might be the year they stay home in October, although it is far to early to make that call. On the other hand, despite a recent rough patch, the Brewers continue their lead in the NL Central. They've been fun to watch]

 

The Watchman by Robert Crais started slow for me, then picked up steam before ending on a sour note. I like Crais a lot, and his Elvis Cole and Joe Pike characters, but this had the feel of the awful Spenser novels from the 'breakup with Susan' era;  Rambo like invincibiltiy and a death every other page. Even so, I'd take a Crais novel over most reads any day.

 

Fair Ball by Bob Costas. This was an audiobook presented to me by my sister Katie, and it managed to overcome my natural distaste of the format to become the first audiobook I've ever completed. Costas is a heck of a writer, even if he would keel over if forced to use anything less than a $50 word. His plans are by and large outdated and ludicrous, full of sentimentality and crotchety ol' "Back in MY day' nostalgia that he tries in vain to distance himself from by arguing that he's just a logical, unemotional spectator. Uh-huh.

 

Pete Rose? Wrong. DH? Wrong. Wild Card? Wrong. Salary Cap on teams and players? Smacks of socialism when it's coming from Costas mouth.

 

Look, the guy loves the game. He just needs to get a grip on the fact that it really is a business, and anything 'more' is icing on the cake.

 

Scavenger by David Morell. Looking over these and other reviews, I always come across as a nitpicking no-it-all who seems to never truly enjoy anything. Nothing could be further from the truth, but at the risk of reinforcing the misconception . . I thought this was a piece of junk. The Amazon reviews don't think so, and the author blurbs are raving testimonials, but screw 'em all; they're wrong.  Like the last Morell book I read the plot is NOT - repeat is NOT - anything more than standard TV fare. The dialogue is awful, with people spouting detailed info in scenes where their characters should be silent or curt,and the majority of characters REEK of Red-shirts, folks put in the book just so there's someone to kill. Might I point out that the forced negativity between two of the male Redshirts was laughable, and should never have led down the road it did . . .

 

MOVIES:

 

Rocky Balboa, the 6th installment in the movie series, surprised me. It was actually quite good, full of nostalgia but with enough energy to propel the characters forward and not just tread water. Recommended.

 

Music and Lyrics - cute movie. I liked it, even if the ending was forced. Drew is . . well, Drew, and the less said the better. But Hugh Grant proves again to be that lovable bloke that I enjoy watching, and he does a marvelous job aping an '80's rock star. A fun couple movie.

 

Spider-Man 3 - I took YaYa to see this Monday and we were both bored. Too much going on in one movie, with Sandman, Venom, the black suit, and the New Goblin all fighting for screen time. Spidey's also fallen prey to the Superman syndrome, where you can beat him to your heart's content and he walks away with a torn costume and nary a scratch. He's pinned down and Venom takes a steel pipe to his head, and he's not only OK but able to talk and struggle? What????

To top it off, both Peter and MJ kiss other people, which was odd to see. And what bugged me the most is that I took my daughter to see a movie where Peter starts a fight in a bar and physically knocks his girlfriend to the ground (while under the influence of the symbiote). At the conclusion of the movie he walks into the same bar (what, no one yells 'hey, that's the guy who started the brawl! Call the cops") and she rushes over and kisses him.

Nice to teach kids it's ok to have your boyfriend wup on you, so long as he says sorry later.

I don't know. YaYa is fond of the Junie P. Jones books too, and that little girl leaves a lot to be desired as a role model. What a world.

 

Children of Men - an excellent Clive Owens movie based on the P.D. James novel. It is 2027 and for 18 years no child has been born on Earth . . until now. Not your typical Hollywood fare, but I liked it quite a bit and recommend it.

 

The House on Nostalgia Ave - the mortgage wait

I'd load the typical masthead here, but AOL Journals is still screwy.

 

The rest of October was nuts.

 

Here we are in the midst of preparing for our vacation to DisneyWorld, we're trying to get pregnant, I was in the process of interviewing for another job, and we're trying to land a house, a house I didn't think was worth the effort.

 

And every day, EVERY day, was another obstacle towards getting approved for the 203K loan. It was a month of review this, check that, oh by the way we need this or that, etc.

 

I set a frantic approval date for our anniversary on the 25th, but that came and went without progress. (we did however, dine in the restaurant across the street from the house)

 

All the while we now heard whispered rumours of another interested party. I never fully bought into the idea, but I was told someone who wanted to 'flip' the house was now in the mix.

 

A week after our anniversary we got the news - we were approved for the 203K.

 

In theory.

 

In actuality I have no idea what 'approved' is defined as by the mortgage company, because we had yet another two months of hell in front of us. Daily calls, weekly requests for lists of documents, and so on. It is impossible to reduce the constant tension, dread, fear, embarrasment, and anger involved with buying that house into less than a book length piece, so please, trust me: It sucked.

 

Keep in mind that at this point we were not PRE-approved, we allegedly had it lock stock and barrell. In fact we had a conventional loan for twice the house's value sitting there unused and untouched. This was all about getting the 203K rehab loan.

 

In the meantime I needed the house inspected for the purposes of the loan. 

 

Eryk was the second guy my broker recommended, the first setting off a deep and instinctive warning bell inside my head. Begininig to end he - the first guy, not Eryk - sounded creepy and untrustworthy.

 

We scheduled a walk-through with Eryk. He saw potential in the house, but a lot of work too. The North and South foundation walls would need to be replaced in full, as would the electrical. There were roof problems I hadn't noticed, and lead paint throughout the house, a lot of it in cracked or peeling condition. He also encouraged me to get the water tested for lead, which I did in the days preceding our vacation.

 

No doubt; a lot of work lay ahead.

 

Meanwhile, believing I had the loan I contacted my cousin for some advice on how to write up and offer and called the lawyer.

 

Only to be told the house had received a bid.

 

Now to this day I don't believe 100% that that was the truth. A large part of me instantly screamed 'negotiating ploy' [well, really my head screamed "F**K', but this is a family blog]. So we upped the ante a bit and submitted our bid.

 

It was accepted.

 

A tentative closing date was set for the 30th, and as we left for vacation it felt in large part like a celebratory trip.

 

One closing note: that water sample? When we returned from vacation a message was on our answering machine. To paraphrase it:

 

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Slapinions, this is X from XY labratories. Normally we just mail a result to a client but in this case I felt it was too dangerous to wait. If you are drinking the water you submitted STOP. The maximum allowable lead level is .15 u/gl. Your sample came in at 259 u/gl. It is highly dangerous and if you have kids I strongly suggest you DO NOT drink the water. Please call me back at XXXXXX."

 

So in essence, our water was lead with a smidge of water tossed in for good measure.

 

We now needed to replace our entire water supply too.

 

Sigh.  

Shooting Death

A 4 year old child, who it appears is very distantly related to my wife, was killed in a drive-by shooting here in Milwaukee.

The mayor had some strong words on the subject. I originally saw them buried in an article and they resonated with me. Apparently I wasn't the only one, as the statement headlines the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel this morning.

"A 4-year-old girl died last night. A 4-year-old girl was shot and killed last night in our city. ... Some gutless thug decided he would solve his problem by shooting a 4-year-old girl. What a tough guy. He can brag about that to all of his buddies, that he took out a 4-year-old girl." - Mayor Tom Barrett

Strong words, and honest, devoid of the usual scripted political cliches.

It might, honestly, have bought the man my vote in the next election.

Here's a URL to the story; AOL Journals is acting up and not allowing me to incorporate it properly.

http://www.jsonline.com/story/index.aspx?id=606346

Parker chatter

Lisa just called to say I'd have to remove the dryer vent when I get home. 

"Why?" I asked, a little pissy. The thing had just been installed, then taken out and replaced when the contractors sealed the new glass block windows.

"Because you hadn't replaced the outside cover yet, and so Parker decided to dump two pairs of shoes down the vent," she said.

That little bugger . .I'm sure he will be the class clown. He always has a smile on his face and THE Hollywood-perfect look of mischief in his eyes.

He's even begun to tolerate me, throwing a shoulder against me (his best version of a hug for his Daddy) when his Mom asks him to, but still grunting and barking when I ask him on my own.

He's Momma's boy right now, always quick to hug and cuddle with her.

We've still got him in his crib, tho' he FINALLY crawled out of it on his own shortly after we moved into the house. We've since installed the handy dandy crib tent to confine him.

He's also very behind on his speech. He will say 'mom' and 'bye', and as recorded here he once said 'lub  you too', but that's it. He doesn't speak - he grunts.

He knows what's going on and understands you just fine, and I believe he thinks in sentences. He just doesn't say it.

More on P-Diddy Wee Diddy later.

Jerry Falwell Dead

LYNCHBURG, Va. (AP) - The Rev. Jerry Falwell, who founded the Moral Majority and built the religious right into a political force, died Tuesday shortly after being found unconscious in his office at Liberty University, a school executive said. He was 73.

I'm not sure why I'm writing about Falwell's death, since I know next to nothing about him. I was simply shocked to see the headline on Drudgereport and felt the need to repost it here.

I'm serious when I say I don't know much about him, or any televangelists for that matter. My Mom sternly forbid us from watching so much as a second of the 700 Club as a child, or any of the host of preachers on TV in the '80's.

Weird - even today I feel strongly creeped out about the subject, like it would be akin to watching a cult.

The things that stick with you from childhood.

[admission: Sometimes I do watch Pastor Scott for a minute or two on cable, but not for the sermon. She's just pretty yummy. Shame she's probably as upright and pure as she seems :)]

Tags: Jerry Falwell

YaYa's K5 picture

Here's YaYa's kindergarten photo. Personally, the wife and I think she looks goofy, and for that reason we orginally skipped getting a copy. A month or so I got to thinking that it would look awkward having a one-year gap in the photo record so we ordered a copy directly from the photographer.

We toured another school, a public one, this morning. It was, honestly, awe-inspiring. Less impressive building, older interior, crowded classrooms, a more casual dress code . . and Kindergarten work on the walls that blew the socks off of our current school.

I'm talking about full page stories the kids thought up and wrote down in nice, neat handwriting.

Because her birthday is past the cutoff point YaYa might have to repeat K5 if she goes there but that might be for the best. We went in there bragging to their staff about YaYa being able to read and write. Then we walked straight into that homework display.

It was like bragging about your fastball and then running into Roger Clemens on the playground.

So why go there at all? A myriad of reasons, not the least of which is my kids are/probably always will be the poorest at her current school.

Some folks there drive Lexus's, others brand new Toyota's. I drive a '94 Aspire.

But that isn't the only reason. I guess I'll shut up about it unless/until we decide for sure to move her, but my faith in private school is certainly shaken a tad.

Lots to think about.

BTW - today is the 16th anniversary of my confrimation in the Catholic Church. [17th? Naw, I'm sure it was '91]. No real reason to remember it, save for the fact that my wife and I were talking about how rapidly my life changed at 20. I told her I actually had two epihanies, one then and one on a retreat before my confirmation when I realized I didn't want to be the quiet, reserved guy anymore; that all the people I admired were outgoing and talkative.

I never quite made the jump, at least not fully, but it marked a sharp turn in my life.

Amazing what I guy remembers.

How our purchase of Nostalgia Ave affected LuLu

First off, I'm not sure if it should read 'effected' or 'affected'. Reckon I should have checked on that before making it the title of the post.

We're going to skip ahead a little bit because an event of this week ties in with what transpired Feb 1st.

After we bought the house we realized that it was impractical to keep LuLu in her school. It was 10-12 minutes north of our old place, and would  be a 20-25 minute ride once we made the move.

Also part of the discussion was the financial end of things. That $200/month tution looked mighty large once our housing payment tripled in size.

With reluctance - with sadness and regret - we decided to pull her out of K3.

Her last day was Feb 1st, a Thursday during Catholic Schools Week. That afternoon the school held a dance. We came in the midst of it and went with her class back to their classroom.

We had homemade cupcakes coated in Nerds candy.

 [Lu was/is cupcake obsessed. For 9 months or more she has consistently brought up the subject of her upcoming 4th birthday and the cupcakes she desires to celebrate it. If you anger her or hurt her feelings she will quickly announce "You not have any cupcakes on my birthday!"]

Then I led the kids in the TootyTot dance. It's a ridiculous song where you wind up with thumbs up, knees together, elbows back, feet apart, tongue out, eyes shut, and spinning around.

The class seemed a little confused at the sight of a 300# man acting like a fool.

Part of my sadness that day was the strong feeling that we would have bit the bullet and kept YaYa there if it had transpired two years ago. A part of me thought we were shafting Lu, but I know in my heart that it was both impractical and foolish to keep running across town for of all things a K3 class.

This is Lu with her teacher Ms. Weiser

This Monday Lu and I returned to the school, to keep a long held promise that I'd have her visit with her old friends. They were all happy to see her, from the kids to Ms. Weiser to the office staff and the music teacher, but Lu herself played shy and didn't say a word to anyone.

What was worth noting was that despite saying she didn't miss school for these past three months, once she set foot in the building she was eager to show me all the different ways to get her or there, and which door led to what room, etc.

She even seemed to get over some comical anger at her friend Autumn. Lo' these many months she was quick to say "I don't like Autumn. She not my friend. She a tattletale."

But once we saw her, it was "Can she come over?"

Lu also talked constantly about her 'friend' Montarian. In truth her teacher said they rarely talked and even more rarely hung out together, but Lu seems fascinated with the name itself.

After the school visit Lu and I went to the Washington Park Library, where she gave a puppet show in the giant wooden robot/stage they have there. We then went to the West Allis police station to pay a parking ticket and got McDonalds.

A nice day together, just Lu and her Daddy.

Tags: LuLu

Tags: Nostalgia Avenue