Published writer, compulsive reader, Old School Whovian, Match Game enthusiast, NKOTB fan, data hoarder, and - surprisingly, given that list - married with four kids. Welcome to my take on life, fatherhood, entertainment, and whatever strikes my fancy. Enjoy!
This Father's Day the family got me a telescope off of Craigslist, a $150 value, for $20.
Mind you I've only used it once, but still, it means I can cross one thing off my 'Things I've wanted forever' list.
We didn't do a whole lot. We had my Dad and Lisa's over for dessert.
We chewed the fat for a bit, and that's about it. It was a nice, relaxed day.
Here's some random pics from the evening.
Thanks to a heads-up from my Mom, I've rediscovered Dr. Who, THE GREATEST sci-fi show of all time.
When I was a kid the local PBS affiliate broadcast every existing episode in order, from the 1963 premiere on for years, each weeknight at 10 p.m. It was a nightly ritual for me and my long-suffering Grandma.
It went off the air in England in the late '80's, then came back in the new century.
Sci-Fi airs new episodes each Friday; the local PBS station now plays epiodes a few years older on Saturday nights.
Naturally, my wife thinks I'm a dork.
As for the Doctor's . . Chris Eckelston, Doctor #9, doesn't do much for me. He's all herky-jerky expressions mingled in with dark monologues . . a little too much for me.
Doctor #10 David Tenant ROCKS. He's the perfect mix of whimsy and sarcasm, innocence and naughtiness. He's right up there - dare I say it - with the Jon Pertwee version of the Doctor.
This pic, of my very pregnant wife, was taken on Fathers Day.
As this is the 'official' pregnancy portrait, or as near as we shall come, and thus will be viewed my children in the years to come, I regret the necessity to say . . .
That this shot really, really, REALLY makes me hot.
For LuLu's fourth (and Golden) birthday we took her down to Gurnee to Six Flags Great America.
Let it be known that I itch at the thought of setting foot in the place: crowds and chaos and roller coasters.
Ugh.
But that's because I'm a kook, and in recognition of said fact I consented to go.
I'm sure it was worse for Lis, being 7 months pregnant at the time.
We started off with the nearest ride, the massive Merry Go Round inside the gates.
Park, as you'll note, was harnessed for the day, one of the best Dang inventions for children EVER.
Doesn't seem like he enjoyed the ride, but I promise ya he did.
With Lis out of the picture it was up to me to share the rides with the kids. Yikes.
Here's a shot of the kids with Pepe Le Pew (sp?)
Tho' Lis took a turn on some easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy infant rides.
The kids enjoyed Wiggles World and the characters they met.
As the morning wore on we attended a stage show featuring Bugs Bunny. At the end my kids were invited onstage for a minute.
Then it was off to a picnic lunch in the parking lot.
After lunch it was off to the water park at Six Flags, Hurricane Harbor. Thankfully the idea of putting large amounts of water near my camera prevented any topless pics of myself (huzzah!).
Sadly for the kids we had misjudged the closing time of the water park and only had about 15 minutes in the water - we had spent a lot of time after lunch waiting in line for and riding a roller coaster twice - tho' it was long enough for YaYa to run off and ride some massive slides without telling me where she was going.
[btw - for the record we truly misjudged the time. Yes, I have a well-established distrust of having my kids around water after seeing a double-drowning incident [curse that day]but I did not sabotage this trip]
After closing the water park we went on a few more rides, one of which made me very nauseous. It was just a carnival ride, but we rode it twice and . . well, I almost made it. But then I stepped foot inside the men's room and the decrepit stench of an amusement park men's room cause me to launch my lunch into the nearest toilet.
[This is not a photo of said ride]
Niiiiice.
Anyhow, storm clouds began to gather. We went shopping for souvenirs and then paid to have a park-taken photo printed when . . .
The sky broke open and it poured. And poured. And poured. Trust me, this pic doesn't even hint at what was to come.
It was obvious the parade would be canceled for the evening and the rides shut down, so with decorum and class - unlike the FIBS who ran like ninny's as if it was acid falling down - we retreated to the car.
Where we sat, drenched to the bone, until both the worst of the storm and the traffic dissipated.
You know what, it was a really fun day and a great way for my Lu to celebrate her 4th birthday!
An employee of mine showed me her myspace account www.myspace.com/consciousdreaming (or more honestly, used my laptop to test out a song she added to her page).
From her site I caught wind of some face-recgonition software that 'compares' your pic to those of 'similar' celebrities.
Here's my results:
This year: a theater class and Crunchin' Numbers.
I volunteered this Wednesday at the request of the Numbers teacher, but weaseled my way into both classes. It was a nice experience. Usually Lisa volunteers at YaYa's school activite, so I was glad to take an active part in her education.
In theater I got a sneak preview of the performance and costuming. I watched some improv exercises, then helped the kids dye a sheet green for use as foliage.
[I forgot to wear gloves and wound up with green hands. I was called Shrek and Hulk for the rest of the class]
In Numbers I saw why YaYa felt a little overwhelmed. The kids weren't the best behaved, the classroom a little chaotic, and the subject matter (math, including fractions) kind of intimidating.
I was proud of her tho'. I explained that the bottom half of the fraction dentoed the total number of items; the top half, how many of those items were used.
She got it; you could see it in her eyes. One of the questions instructed her to color in 2/2 of a box; lo and behold she thought a second and then said "So I color in all of it, right?"
She was very proud of her worksheet and honestly outperformed the two boys I was helping.
That was good, because against all logic she seems to have low self-esteem and seemed troubled by the classwork earlier in the sessions.
Anyhow, today was her finale, her grand performance in the UWM Theater class's performance of Where the Wild Things Are.
[Note: Cattyness abounds in females. YaYa was quick to point out to us in the days leading up to the play that the narrator had a lisp and was hard to understand. A nine year old, she stressed, with professional (rather than personal) contempt.]
For your everlasting boredom, here is the performance in full, attended by my father, Lisa, LuLu, and YaYa's friend AnnaBelle.
[neat moment: I took YaYa in my car, Lis followed with the kids. When Lu saw me across the union courtyard she yelled 'Daddy!' and ran squealing 100 feet or more to jump into my arms.]
Please excuse the blurry photo - I lack photo software at this location.
YaYa is in front, second from the camera. She speaks the line "And they nashed their terrible teeth" and handles the visual effect of the 'waves'.
Some parents showed up late and so the play was performed again. YaYa needs to be prompted on her line, and the 'waves' have disappeared and are improvised.
And again, after a snack and mingle, another performance! Why, I don't know.
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Afterwards we took the kids for lunch in the Union, then headed out for our annual trip to Downer Woods to visit Eeyore's House of Winnie the Pooh fame (minus a very pregnant Lisa).
But first, we stopped out at the fountain near the library, home of many memories of my old childhood visits to UWM.
The kids love Downer's Woods and ya know what - LuLu really honestly and truly believes it's Eeyore's house. She wanted to know if he was home and wanted me to check, but chickened out on my suggestion to knock and say hello.
Then AnnaBelle started saying that Eeyore was dead, and Lu flipped on her. I told AnnaBelle to knock it off, and on the way back she go into it a bit, 'identifying' Tigger and Pooh's houses.
When we exited the forest the girls were ecstatic to see Lis and ran to hug her.
Lis took the kids home, and YaYa and I went to the final numbers class.
A nice day, and a great program offered by my alma matter.
Last Saturday was my mother-in-law's 61st birthday and we headed over there to present our gift, which included loaning me out for yardwork that afternoon.
Two things of note occured.
First, on a lark I rode a bicycle for the first time in 21 years. I had stopped riding abruptly at 12, once the local ordinance's demanded I ride only in the street. Bleep that, I thought, and never rode again.
Not only was I shaky on the bike this past weeked, casting doubt on the whole 'it's like riding a bicycle' cliche, I didn't know how to brake BECAUSE I HAD NEVER HAD USED HAND BRAKES IN MY LIFE.
My trusty green and gold Schwinn had pedal brakes. I loved that bike.
Then . . .
During the barbeque Parker began to scream. Lis yelled "Oh my God" and I turned to see my boy's legs covered in swarming ants.
As was later determined by group consensus, no one - not even my 69 year old stepfather-in-law - had ever seen the like of it in Milwaukee.
In Milwaukee, where there are no poisonous spiders or snakes and even the rats are well behaved.
I grabbed him and began brushing them off but they were crawling out of his diaper, his shirt, all over. I stripped him down and got him away from the lawn. A quick glance confrimed he had disturbed a huge ant hill. Not good when he had an ice cream sandwich in his hand.
Normally I forbid the kids from killing insects outside, telling them 'it's their house out here, you're just visiting'.
But this time I put the word out: 'Kill at will!
For the next 15 minutes Parker clung to his Mother and I. I mean he was all but superglued to us, his fists clenched against our shirts. He began to have what I'd call a panic attack in an adult: difficulty breathing, sweats, terror stricken eyes.
For the rest of the day he refused to set foot on the lawn and banged away at the door to the house.
It was a disturbing incident on many levels.
Before we left I forced him to walk on the lawn, hoping to help him overcome his fear.
That night tho' he woke up at 2 a.m. screaming and swatting at his legs. For the first time in ages (a year or more) I carried him to our bed.
(Even then we didn't let him spend the night with us and moved him back around 4 am)
You wouldn't believe it from this post, but it was a pretty fun day with the family.
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.
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.
