CyberJazzDaddy

It Was A Good Effort

2009-08-28T06:45:00.000-07:00

School Day 1: The newly minted Freshman gets up at roughly 5 a.m. (at least I know he was on Facebook by 5:30), and is out of the house by 5:50 to meet friends at Village Inn for a celebration breakfast christening entry into High School.

Day 2: Up at 5:30 to prepare for first day of marching band, out of the house before 6.

Day 3: 6 a.m. no sign of the boy. Go down to his room and both alarm clocks are going off- -both music and beeping, both loud. Boy still sound asleep. I go over and shake him awake. He comes to life saying "owww!"

I say "What? What's the matter?"

He: "Man, the feedback in that amp hurt!"

Me: "What? Are you ok?"

He: Realizing where he is now awake, "Nevermind."

That was some dream. And one tired boy.

Another Poem from the Daughter

2009-07-21T04:57:00.000-07:00

I feel like she was channeling Maurice Sendak on this one:

Fear me. I am Monster Blood
Yucky scary Monster Blood
I have no feelings, only fangs
I have no friends but I love games

Come and play with Monster Blood
Big and spooky Monster Blood
I’ll chase you through the moonlit yard
Your tremble when you hear me rawr

Run away from Monster Blood
Cold and lonley Monster Blood
I have no friends here, only fangs
And no one wants to play my games.

2009-07-11T08:02:00.000-07:00

	Journey - Seperate Ways (Worlds Apart)

	Found at skreemr.com

My 13 yr old son was telling me this morning how cool it would be if he could get a band together to perform this song at a high school talent show in his coming high school career---I told him , "Funny, I had the same thoughts about this same song. . .whe I WAS IN HIGH SCHOOL!" See how things come full circle.

Then he and my daughter both jumped up and started doing this rockin lip sync dance thing to it when I put it through the stereo from my iPod. I looked on so proudly---so obvious at that moment that these are my children.

Does anyone remember the Journey video game? That thing was too cool.

2009-06-12T14:15:00.000-07:00

Remember the three big things going down today:

Iranian elections (I know I’m usually very non-partisan on this blog, but Go Mir Hossain Moussavi – say that three times fast)

Analog T.V. signal goes dark (and I can’t help but wonder how frustrated those far off space civilizations that have been watching the T.V. signal bleeding into the universe are going to be when they discover that they’ll never see the last season of Lost. Maybe that’s what triggers the invasion!)

And, of course let’s not forget. . . today is the day that Facebook allows you to generate a proper URL for your Facebook homepage! So get out there America and be creative.

(Psssst. . .I’m going to try for Facebook.com/cyberjazzdaddy. You know, for consistancy. Friend me!)

Why, Whyyyyyyyyy

2009-06-12T06:09:00.001-07:00

Sigh---another brilliant Broadway moment that will have to struggle along without me.

2009-06-11T05:46:00.001-07:00

Hope no one saw that last blog attempt. My experiment in blogging from a cell phone. But too many characters it turns it to gobbledy-gook. (sigh)

oh, daddy. . .

2009-05-17T11:19:00.000-07:00

Last night I had a dream that I was escorting my daughter to college on the Hogwarts express, and I had to keep rescuing little baby girls that would fall off the platform onto the tracks. . .Freud anyone?

Where've you been hiding

2009-05-14T21:05:00.000-07:00

I know it's been forever. But my kid's have been transitioning right before my eyes this past few months. So I've been hanging out with them. Um. . . on Facebook.

For example, my eldest just had her last day of school yesterday. Today was her first day as an official citizen. She walks the stage into reality on Sunday. It all went so fast. There was so much I forgot to teach her. Or couldn't find the time. Or didn't want to interrupt her when she was being so dang cute.

But then she posted this, and it did make me smile. She's quite a young woman:

30 Things I Learned My Senior Year Outside Of The Classroom

1. You want something more when it is no longer available. This is especially true when it comes to McDonalds.

2. Texting during a lecture will get you an F on the test.

3. There's always room to improve in anything you do.

4. I am awesome. You are too. If anyone says otherwise, it's their loss.

5. Not everyone who uses the word 'love' actually knows what it means.

6. Doing "I love you" is far more powerful than saying "I love you".

7. Harboring bitterness will hurt you more than it will hurt the other person.

8. Comfort can come from the most unexpected of places.

9. The source of condemnation can be equally surprising.

10. Teddy bears make great cuddle buddies.

11. You can't please everyone. Nor should you try.

12. Nothing gold can stay, but that's no reason not to enjoy it while it's there.

13. Burning photos only makes you feel worse.

14. Never give up on the one you love.

15. Adobe Photoshop is amazing in every sense of the word.

16. Standing up and being yourself will make you lose people.

17. It will also bring you to a place of joy and acceptance you never thought existed.

18. You should never get angry at someone for what they think or feel. Thoughts and emotions can not be controlled. It's what one does with these that shows ones true character.

19. If you're the first one to do something, you're not crazy. You're opening the door for others who were too scared to do it before you.

20. Music can save lives.

21. Don't date someone to change them. You can't heal someone who doesn't want to be healed.

22. Nothing worth having is easy to get.

23. Parents can be your best friends.

24. If you ever look into the mirror and think "I'm ugly", you're wrong.

25. Prayer is the most powerful weapon you will ever have.

26. God is the only one who can ever give unconditional love.

27. Going to a psychiatrist is not something to be ashamed of. Everyone needs help sometimes.

28. The last year of high school goes by in a flash. Except the last four weeks. Those take forever.

29. You can't be every one's best friend. Cherish it when you are, and enjoy the company of everyone else regardless.

30. If God brings you too it, no matter how dark and scary and hopeless it seems, He'll get you through it. You just have to listen.

Van Canto Speed Of Light

2009-03-14T11:03:00.001-07:00

Acappella heavy metal----I loves what the interwebs brings me.

Mega Chess

2009-01-04T19:48:00.001-08:00

Mega Chess
Originally uploaded by CyberJazzDaddy.

Looks like my chess problems for the New Year are going to be much bigger.

Here's hoping everyone has an excellent 2009!

Best Laid Plans. . .

2008-11-26T20:21:00.000-08:00

Well, this writing through November didn't turn out like I planned. Sorry it was such a disapointment. Sometimes life conspires.

But I did want to be sure to wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving.

I'm happy you're still here with me.

Thanks.

Um, yeah---that would be heavy metal cellos

2008-11-22T20:20:00.001-08:00

When you need a way to keep your kid interested in orchestra lessons----this comes in real handy.

Goin Gone

2008-11-20T04:45:00.001-08:00

I'm gonna see these guys with the Robo boy tonight for one of his Christmas presents. Should be good. :-)

Do the happy dance in your geeky pants

2008-11-19T20:44:00.001-08:00

I've always had a little trek in me. When I was a kid I loved catching re-runs on Sunday afternoons.

The month I started college was when the new series started, The Next Generation. A group of friends all got together in my dorm room to watch the first episode. I tried to catch it whenever I could after that.

Then, on the spring when I finished Grad school, the curtain fell. So it kinda spanned my college career and sort of book-ended it.

I've been very disappointed in the movies since.

But it looks like I may have something to get excited about again.

Oh, yeah.

Doctor Who, you ask?

2008-11-18T19:57:00.001-08:00

Yes, we're big fans of the Brit action scifi adventure show, Doctor Who---so we're very excited to see the trailer for the next installment show up on Youtube.

The wife is our official Who spotter. She trolls the internet during the day when the kids are in school, to see if there is any news we should be made aware of.

For those of you who don't know, it goes back a bit but recently saw a revival and upgrade, much like Battlestar Galactica and Star Trek. And every so often the doctor 'regenerates' into a new personality, which is what we're seeing here. Sort of. We think.

Very exciting to see what might possibly be the new Doctor. More exciting than seeing Bond change. For us.

Oh, and on a completely different, less fictional subject---have you heard who else is moving into the White House? Michelle Obama's mom!---to look after the girls rather than getting a nannny.

The first Grandma! Is that cool or what!?

Now if you'll excuse me. . .

2008-11-17T20:14:00.001-08:00

I'm home late and the wife has missed me. Tonight's post is terribly token, I know. But you can think of this as a contribution to the stability of a marriage and it's ability to thrive.

:-)

How I Roll

2008-11-16T19:57:00.000-08:00

Yesterday saw me accompaning the Bear on a bowling birthday party. I stayed on to help him out as he would need some attention that the parents might not anticipate in a classmate. I was glad to find that the relatives of the birthday girl were all very attentive and kind and included the little Bear right along.

Of course, the bowling of the little kids was amusing. They would make thier way to the line, stuggling under the weight of a bowling ball as big as their heads where they would fling it like a shot put. It would land with an attention getting clatter and then take days to roll down the alley, bouncing off the gutter bumpers put up just for them, before finally knocking over a pin or two.

I think we only got through 4 frames in an hour before the very smart mommy said---"Let's have cake now."

On Bear's final push he got it into his head that he wanted to see how long it would take the ball to get down to the pins, or something, so he took the ball to the line, put it down and gave it an ever so tiny push. Standing beside him, I wasn't sure this ball would even make it to the end of the lane, so I quickly got on my hands and knees beside him to reach out and give the ball a bigger push to hurry it along.

That's when I realized that there are things in life that a mere citizen isn't meant to touch, and a bowling lane is one of them. I found that apparently they oil those things pretty thoroughly as I skidded off my one palm and onto my chesk. In front of all the other parents.

When I turned and walked back with my son, they were still smiling good naturedly working to get the next young one up for thier turn. Or just avoiding eye contact.

So good. Why shouldn't they know me for what I am. I can't walk through life a mystery, now can I?

The answer is, no, I can't. My nature won't let me. It's always giving me away.

Sigh

2008-11-15T21:31:00.000-08:00

Ok, so this November hasn't been as kind to my every day blogging attempts as I would have liked. Missed a few days. I know, I know. Lame. I'll still try to keep hanging in there, though.

Tonight we went to see the Community Player's show. As an audience member tonight. We couldn't participate in the production this go round--other than I helped them set up the lights and sound system. They did a murder mystery dinner theater thing. There were some friends we were glad to see again in the cast, and some new people as well, which was excellent to see. We all went out after and had some good chat.

The going out afterwords part happened when the little kids were in bed, so we called the sitter and let her go home---Robo was home from being with his friends by then and he could just fall asleep on the couch and be there in case anyone wandered out, as he has done many times before.

When we got home my wife went to wake him to send him down to his room. Once that was done, she came in and let me know he of a new trick she observed.

"He drums in his sleep!"

Colobration

2008-11-12T19:26:00.000-08:00

My daughter uses me as her editor sometimes. She writes a story or a song or something and I giver her notes and she does other drafts to polish it up. I really enjoy working with her when we do this kind of thing, and I quite like her work. If I had a career wish, I think I would love to use it to have a family business where I could work with all my kids doing creative stuff together.

Last spring her English teacher took her to a writing conference with others from her creative writing class. He's one of her favorite teachers. An interesting guy, that one. He's a Phd that chose to come back and teach high school because he likes teens better than college students.

At the conference she was in a poetry workshop where she wrote this poem:

The shadow taught me
That the darkness is not to be feared
The shadow taught me
that the unknown can be kind
The shadow taught me
Not to look at the small faults
Not to bring to light the bruises
The knots
The cracks in the wall
Chipping paint
Torn curtains
But to accept the room as it is
To close my eyes and take in the
Feeling it has to offer
The shadow taught me not to fear the eyes
The watchers
The judges
But to be myself
The shadow taught me what it is to be free.

A snooty girl in the workshop didn't like it and in the feedback made Kitten feel bad about her writing. She was a bit discouraged when she got home. But it did give us an opportunity to talk about the personalities that can and will be encountered in creative circles---especially in college. There is always going to be the expert, very in touch with what is fashionable in their particular discipline, and condescending to those who aren't with it.

When we found the poem and looked at it again, I just did a bit of cutting to perhaps give it a fresh perspective. Nothing re-written to speak of, so it's still all her. Just applying a rewrite rule I was told once---chop until one more cut will make it fall. I thought it was kind of an interesting change:

Darkness
The unknown can be kind
Not to look
At the faults
The brusies
Knots
Cracks
Chipping paint
Torn Curtians
Accept
Close my eyes
Do not fear
Watchers
Judges
Eyes
The shadow taught me what it is
to be Free

CRAP

2008-11-12T05:25:00.000-08:00

One long day at work. . . check

One heartfelt talk with daughter. . . check

Add a evening setting lights for a play. . .check

Stir vigorously.

Equals a forgotten eve blog posting as I fell into bed without even turning the lights on.

(Can we pretend that this was posted last night?)

Well, I'll be. . .

2008-11-10T20:48:00.000-08:00

Remember that script I posted a while back. Well, a couple of months ago I got a bit of encouragement from my wife and submitted it. I knew of a site call Playscripts.com. It's a new internet based way of promoting scripts and they specialize in plays that may be attractive to community, educational and regional theater.

And I got an email tonight that they have agreed to handle my script! So I guess I'm kind of published. . .in a way. . .sort of.

At least it'll be out there and someone might decide it's something they want to do and I might get a royalty out of it, or something.

Who knows. This is my way of playing the lottery--without having to pony up the $1 for a scratch ticket.

I'll post again when it get's on the site so you can view it there. I have to print out the paperwork and send it in first. And mail it to New York.

I think that's the neatest part of the whole thing at this point, being able to say, "Yes, I have to get that contract for my script sent away to New York."

New York. Hee--get out.

I fought the yard and the . . .yard won

2008-11-09T19:39:00.000-08:00

Each year my yard rises up to remind me that I have a 40 hr a week desk job. This was the weekend today. The leaves fall gently for several weeks in warning, and then in one swoop, suddenly we're buried. I had help in the form of two coerced boys, but it still kicked by backside.

By brain says, oh yeah, that's easy. . .All you have to do is this. And my body says--how many times? Is it over yet? Oh, how I'm going to make you pay.

And today we hung lights for a show the players are doing this next weekend. One of those murder-mystery things. Body, I'm not through with you yet.

In the meantime, I'm here trying to download music with my Pepsi points. You may remember that I was big into that when it was going on the iTunes side. This year, it was Amazonmp3.com's turn. Only it started in Feb and has gone through Nov. I worked out a deal with my recycling guy at work again, and he saved me caps. Other people have helped along the way too. I haven't hit the ceiling of 3000 caps per account, but I think I got close. It's 5 caps per song, so the return isn't quite as great. Still, it gives a guy a quasi-hobby.

Got some indi chick rocker Eowyn music tonight. She's calling it quits, unfortunately, so this is her last. I wish her well.

There are times

2008-11-08T20:12:00.001-08:00

The other day when I was having to make unpopular decisions as a parent--this cartoon popped into my mind. This is what it feels like sometimes. I'm the cat seeing danger on all sides and the kid is Porky, thinking I'm being entirely over reactionary and fighting my every attempt to keep them from harm.

I'm just trying to keep from every having to be the calvary.

(On another note, remember back in the day when you could show naked cartoon pigs getting ready for bed on afterschool T.V.)

It still counts!

2008-11-07T22:19:00.000-08:00

I'm posting this a little after midnight but I still consider it my post for 11-07-08. It still feels like the same day to me.

And it's not my fault! I was late at the venue where my daughter was performing her music tonight because the evening went long because of the other bands.

Between a couple of the sets the Lemur, who was there with us, looked at me and said, "Dad, I want to learn archery, fencing, and horseback riding."

To which I responded by putting my hand on his forehead and crying, "Spirit of Errol Flynn, I command thee come out!"

Ok, so I didn't actually say that.

But I wanted to.

Ready for my close up

2008-11-06T19:41:00.000-08:00

So, I thought at one point that I'd like to make movies, and I guess I kinda still do.

I had applied to the grad school I attended with the plan to go in as a theater major (I was pretty confident that I could get into that program) but then make some connections and switch over to the film school after the first year or so. But, I chickened out.

It was back before computers could do a lot of the heavy lifting in film. They were still working with actual 'film'. It was intimidating. Film making then to now is kind of like what typesetting is to word processing. Heck, they didn't even have mice on the PCs in the computer lab when I was there. I had to sneak into the journalism dept to use a Mac to type my papers.

I've had this idea for some little short films that I could maybe do. Ten short pieces (three minutes or under) that all connect in the end into a single narrative. I thought I might take some of my November blog-a-thon to get them out of my head and, you know, post them here.

Now you have to keep in mind that my greatest artistic aspiration follows the path of surealism. I'm a big fan. When I was a kid the 60s psychedelica had filtered down into children's programing, so I guess I kind of imprinted on that sort of Yellow Submarine world view.

When I was in a scene design course in college I did a set design assignment for the play "Glass Menagerie" by Tennessee Williams. It's a play in a realistic style, but I couldn't leave it alone. If you know that play you remember that the girl main character is so intimidated by her secretarial course that she throws up in class and never goes back, lying to her mother so she thinks she's still going. So I externalized that fear by making her practice typewriter in the corner of their shabby little apartment a giant man eating thing with big sharp teeth biting through the edge of the stage.

When I got through explaining the rest of the strangeness in that design, I looked up and the class was just staring at me. I was in a theater class and I was the weirdo----in a theater class.

So anyway, here's episode one as I imagine it:

Fade up on boy blinking awake on couch. He sits up listening. He can hear a hissing. He gets up and leaves the room.

He enters the kitchen and steps in a puddle. Looking over to the sink he sees that the water was left running over a sink full of dirty dishes and has run over and down the cabinets and onto the floor. He notices that the water is making the hissing noise and so goes over and shuts it off.

As soon as he does the hissing seems to be coming from the other room. He turns and walks toward it.

In the other room, a living room, he walks over to a big green lazy boy that is empty. Beside it is an ash tray on a stand with a smoldering cigar. He looks over toward the t.v. It is turned on but is only showing static, which is making the hissing noise. He goes over and turns it off.

The moment it's off, there is a knock at the door that makes him jump. He goes over and opens it and there is a little blond girl looking at him. He opens the storm door and suddenly she is down on the lawn. She giggles and runs away.

The boy doesn't know why, but he follows.

He chases her down the block and through the neighbor hood, and is finally lead down an abandoned railroad track. He stops as she is so far ahead now that it doesn't seem she can be caught. As he shades his eyes to stare after her and catch his breath, she seems to disappear.

Then suddenly, she steps out of the trees to his left. He has no idea how she got from one place to another so quickly, but before he can think much about it she giggles and runs into the forest and he is chasing her again.

As he is chasing her he doesn't notice that he runs by a tree holding a cigar.

Finally the forest ends and he runs out into a clearing, where he stops short. There in the clearing is his father's green lazy boy. He knows what he must do.

He begins to gather brush and branches and pile them around the chair. When there is a healthy stack around the chair he tosses down the still burning cigar and the whole thing bursts into flame.

As he watches it burning a small hand takes his. He looks over and the little girl is standing beside him.

They both turn and watch the flames rise into the sky.

Fade to black.

Ok, so it's like only the first episode. They'll be others and it'll kind of play together. It'll make sense later. Well, kinda. It'll still be wierd. You know, like I said, surrealism and stuff.

What?

Why are you looking at me like that?

Long Time Coming

2008-11-05T06:48:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid, I thought history was kind of over.

My parents and other grown-ups had made all the history there was to be made. I could hear them talking about Pearl Harbor and then VJ day. Putting a man on the moon and protesting Vietnam and Dr. King and the Kennedys. But when I looked around, there was only pop culture happening, and all the government people did was talk about boring taxes

I was growing up in the shadow of a more passionate time. When people believed in ideals and were ready to start a counter-culture revolution for them. But not anymore. I found their trinkets in the attic and jokes about it in Mad magazine, but it seemed that everyone else had moved on before I had a chance to even understand what it was all about.

When I got to college I thought, this is my chance. This is where young people come alive and make their mark. This is where the protests and the shouting and the revolutionaries were.

But I looked around and there was none of that. I saw people in class not to think, just to pass the tests. Graduation was not a pursuit of wisdom and knowledge but a ticket to a paycheck. I saw people getting drunk and hooking up and buying clothes.

I read books about the 60s so I could find out what I had missed. I dressed in retro fringe jackets and 60s logo t-shirts and tie dye and grew my hair long. I listened to the stations that were playing protest songs and calling them 'classics'. I joined small campus groups who tried to raise awareness for nuclear disarmament and homelessness and the ecological evils of Styrofoam. We wrote letters to free Nelson Mandela. I directed plays that asked social action questions and wrote enthusiastic commentaries in the programs to try and wake people up. Mostly people would just completely ignore us, not even interested enough to be provoked.

Then something happened. A wall fell. A black man became leader of an apartheid nation. So that was it. History was happening somewhere else.

Since that was the case, I would just get on with my life. And it was good. I got a wife and a daughter. Had good times with my friends and family. Things were just peachy. Then History came home.

My wife held my infant daughter close as we watched the night vision video of a new War beginning. The first Gulf War. History was to be feared.

We joined the protests in the park, and it was a mess. Not because the establishment wanted to squash descent, but because the group that gathered was so pent up with their many disparate and sometimes mutually exclusive private revolutions that the focus was lost and the group fragmented. Before any sort of vision could be given to any sort of cause, it was over.

I began to think I'd never figure out History.

But at 11 o'clock last night History was given back.

It was as if in 1968 the assassinations caused a nation to suck in their collective breath in shock, and we've been holding it ever since. But last night, 40 years later, a nation could breath out again. I believe the hope candidate is going to take us to a place where we can aspire again---instead of just reacting. Where we can lead again, instead of just dominating. The healing amongst ourselves and with the rest of the world can now begin in earnest. That new day has dawned.

History started happening again, and this time I was there for it.

We Did It!

2008-11-04T07:23:00.001-08:00

We Did It!
Originally uploaded by CyberJazzDaddy.

We voted! We went in there and changed the world. All THREE of us. Yes, my little girl is now a world changer. She has entered into active civic life. Turned 18 in October and Voted in her first election not even a month later. How cool is that!

I was telling a friend at work that for me, this is as exciting as when she took her first steps or her first day at school. And definitely more exciting than when she got her driver's license (no concern over personal safety or property damage with this one). I couldn't believe it--we actually had to stand in line on this one. We've never had a line before. But it was totally worth it, of course. It'll be very exciting to see what the turn out percentage is. I love it when the world get's engaged.

Afterwords we went to the local coffee shop (not Starbucks) and had a celebratory latte.

The Lemur has a mock election in 4th grade today. He was so proud to tout the fact that apparently in the past, as the 4th grade goes, so goes the election. They've never been wrong. And where is CNN to cover that.

However, he did come to me a bit wide eyed with the latest political scandal in this current presidential race:

"Dad---is it true that Obama has a SEXUAL marriage."

My wife and I just looked at each other. When trying to get out the door to school, there is no way to answer that question briefly. Looks like the Lemur and I are going to have a talk. More specifically---looks like we're going to have THE talk.

This election cycle is bring up all kinds of interesting conversations.

Houses near the reactor are sooo cheap!

2008-11-03T20:35:00.001-08:00

This is the new game, put on a tail and walk around looking like an illustration from the Dr. Suess book "If I Ran the Zoo". That thing he's wearing is a stuffed animal snake that we got at the zoo---but he thinks it serves much better as a dinosaur tail when you stuff the head into the waist band of his pants.

Speaking of pants, I bought my oldest boy a pair of men's pants for the first time tonight. Previous to this we'd been buying him boy sizes which aren't actually in inches like the adults sizing. So before I left for work this morning, I got out a measuring tape from the sewing stuff and took a measurement of his waist and inseam. Turns out we have the same inseam, 30 inches. But his waist---also 30 inches. I wasn't sure I was measuring correctly at first. That couldn't be right, could it? My 13 year old with a 30 inch waist?

The reason that it was so baffling was that I didn't have a 30 inch waist until I completed grad school---in my late 20s.

When I graduate with my bachelors I went to get a suit to do job interviews, and at the store they had to send me to the boys section to find something small enough to fit me. Here I was, college graduate with a wife and child, and I was in the dressing room next to young men who were looking forward to kissing a girl someday.

I told Robo this on the ride to school, and all he could do was keep saying, "Dang".

Transitioning Sunday (It's a long one---sorry)

2008-11-02T14:21:00.000-08:00

Things are changing for me. For us. For our family.

Things I am allowing myself to not fight, but to be carried along by, even though I don't entirely see the whole picture of where it's taking me.

I don't usually write things of a religious nature here on the blog just because I know how personal and potentially divisive musings on spiritual matters can become. In my case, not only to the people that don't share my particular beliefs, but sometimes even with people who would think they do. Sometimes with those people most dramatically. But it is a great part of who I am, arguably it is who I am, and recently it has guided me around a corner.

For one thing, we've changed churches. The church we've attended for the last 10 years, since we came back to our little hometown America, was a pentecostal church. When I was in High School and met this girl who would one day become my wife, and we found that faith was a very important part of our lives and something we shared (in addition to a passion for the theater and an mutual interest in movies like Star Wars).

As our friendship became stronger and stronger, we and a group of our friends pulled away from our parent's church to take up with this pentecostal group. My folks called it the "funny church".

When our journey through higher education brought us back, now husband and wife with kids, we slipped back in with this same congregation. I've never really been 100 percent on board with any church I've been a part of, on the theology side. My real attraction has always been the people, and I don't like to let the little things get in the way of relationship.

I changed churches not because we were angry or compelled or anything like that. The changing came because I felt I was being guided to do so. I don't particularly see myself as a person who is prone to signs and wonders and messages in the sky. I tend to find all that a little suspect most of the time. Feeling like perhaps it can and does sometimes occur, but how do you tell the real from the imagined, or the servant from the showboat? I'm not sure where the feeling rose from, or how I became so certain of it, but I was sure---so we said our good-byes and thank yous, and stepped away.

What the stepping was not was from faith or belief. And we have found ourselves now at a new place on Sunday mornings. We're getting together with Presbyterians, of all things. I grew up in a church with robes and hymnals and wooden pews and never pictured myself back in a setting like this. But they have a special service earlier in the morning, before the pipe organ plays at 10:30. And it's a bit more unconventional. More casual. It'd have to be, wouldn't it.

For example, there is breakfast served every Sunday, so you get to sit down across from people you may not know and eat a bite. I've met someone new every Sunday for weeks. Some are my kids teachers, some are teachers I had back in school. Some are people I went to school with. Some have been the parents of the friends of my kids---so they already know my family before we've met (and so far, that's always been a good thing---whew). And we can continue to eat even after the five piece folk/rock band begins to play and every one starts to sing. And with donuts waiting, we have not had an argument from the kids about going since we started.

It's growing on me, but I proceed cautiously. People have expectations, and I can tend to unwittingly defy those a bit. My faith life is informed by things like the book "Velvet Elvis", the podcast "Wired Jesus", and the NPR radio show "Speaking of Faith". My spiritual pursuit tends to look for something more philosophical and mystically based, but in a community committed to real relationship. I'm not much for high church that has a top down drive for control and conformity. Show me pursuit of truth based in wisdom and gentle trust. Let God do the rest.

Perhaps it's foolish. But it most reflects God's model to me. As Jefferson said, "your own reason is the only oracle given you by heaven." I have to trust that I can't come up with a better model than God.

I've written a lot in a book I keep to capture thoughts. I believe that this is the distillation of the Biblical principles I try to live by:

As much as it is possible, be at peace with all men. (romans 12) (hebrews 12)

Love your Neighbor [as you] . . . (mat 22) (romans 13) (gal 5) (james 2)

Love Yourself (mat 22b) (romans 13) (gal 5) (james 2)

Think of others as more important than yourself (phil 2:3)

Be Patient (1 cor 13)

Be Kind (1 cor 13)

Do not boast (1 cor 13) Be Gracious

Do not be proud (1 cor 13) Be Humble

Do not be Rude (1 cor 13) Be polite

Do not be Self Seeking (1 cor 13)

Do not be easily Angered (1 cor 13)

Keep No Records of Wrongs (1 cor 13) Forgive --which means to not wish others harm when you have been harmed. It has been said that unforgivness is the poison you take hoping some else will die.

Do not rejoice in evil (1 cor 13) Do not take pleasure to see harm come to others but seek to give them relief.

Rejoice in truth (1 cor 13)

Protect (1 cor 13)

Trust (1 cor 13)

Hope (1 cor 13)

Persevere (1 cor 13) Do not let personal difficulty deter you from keeping constant in the above.

Nine qualities of strength :

love (Gal 5:22)

joy (Gal 5:22)

peace (Gal 5:22)

patience (Gal 5:22)

kindness (Gal 5:22)

goodness (Gal 5:22)

faithfulness (Gal 5:22)

gentleness (Gal 5:23)

self-control (Gal 5:23)

Never perfect on any of these, but this is what I strive for.

A few months ago, on one of the Sunday's after I left our home church I woke up early on a Sunday morning with no where to go. So as the family slept, I got up and typed. This is what I wrote:

"This morning, as I lay in bed on a Sunday, much later that has been usual, I thought of how my internet friend Kate often writes about the guiding Yes. That spiritual flow that guides us on the path to what lies next in our ever ongoing awakening.

I lay there thinking how, to me, this new part of my journey is my very concrete attempt follow in this Ultimate Yes. But in my case the Yes has a face, and hands that bleed.

It's not a particular church. Not a particular denomination. Not a creed or race or nation. Something above all this and through all this.

I closed my eyes.

I picture Him waiting for the continuous Yes that will let us join back in with the universe. Not like it might look on a calendar or coffee mug at a Christian book store. I see Him as the resonance that holds every thing together and keeps it all good.

He is the Yes that said to Moses that I Am, and you can't look at me all at once because it's too much Yes at once, So I'll whisper it to you in the rocks and the trees (who will praise me if you don't), and the smiles and faces of children (whom you must become like to enter the awesome everything after), and in the love and kindness that people show to others.

He is the Yes that knew that the Yes was so important that He didn't want to just shout from a mountain top, but put on an earth suit to come down and touch our faces and let us love Him. And then let us vent our most destructive bile on him. Drawing it out of us like medicine drawing out poison and taking it into His own body so that he could create a space in us for Him to fill with Yes again.

He let us claw at his earth suit, ripping it and rending it until we drop from exhaustion to show that His Ultimate Yes is far stronger than an limitless army of No.

And when it was done, He came to us and held us and said, "Hey, that was unpleasant, wasn't it. But now it's over. And I'm still here. And so are you. That says something, doesn't it?"

Yes. To me it says Yes.

The Ultimate Yes.

So how could I say no?"

2008-11-01T19:21:00.000-07:00

Visit NaBloPoMo

Well, I'm doing it again this year. The National Blog Posting Month---I'm going to try to post a new post every day for the month of November. I did it last year and it went quite well---and I had a good time. So here we go again.

Truth be told---this is actually my birthday present from my wife. As is probably known, we aren't long on cash. Actually, things tend to run pretty thin here, most of the time. If it weren't for my wonderful parents, the kids would probably be going to school in clothes they wore in the third grade. (Which would be more bearable for the fourth grader than for the graduating Senior).

But time is also tight, too. With a household of people who long for a little companionship for the ever-absent-at-work-trying-to-earn-us-money dad, a chance to pull away for something as solitary as writing can be asking a bit much. That's why my posting has had to become more and more infrequent.

So when the big 41 rolled around last week, this was the present I asked for.

It's not the first time I've requested something like this, though. For one of my birthdays early in our married life I asked for an afternoon at the Barns and Nobel. I have all my life loved book stores, begging my parents for visits to them when I was a kid and we ventured into the big city. But the book stores I'd always known were little hole in the wall affairs compared to when B&N moved into town. On our first visit I was in rapture. Rows upon rows upon rows of books and booky things. The inventor of this needed a big hug. From me.

However, even though my wife is a bookish person too, it soon became very evident that I could spend hours longer in there than she could. Our visits always felt a bit cut short to me. So my next birthday, that was her present---an unencumbered afternoon in the bookstore with nary a prompt to leave. It was bliss.

(My wife reading over my shoulder tells me that she only vaguely remembers this. She says, actualy, she's not sure she remembers it at all, we were in there so often. Yet, it is one of my cherished memories.)

So this year when my forty first rolled around, short on money but long on love and self sacrifice, she gives again.

For forty one. That's a 40, with a 1, by the way. Did you catch that? And that 1 is like a stick---like taking 40 and giving it a bat to hit you around the head with.

Yet, when it comes to age, I must say I want to be like my mom. Last weekend she invited us out to eat at the new Wendy's in town. Before we got there, she had pulled into the parking lot in her little white Aveo and a big Ford F150 driven by a gray haired woman backed right into her, hitting her just ahead of the front driver side door. When we pulled in, the Officer was just arriving to take statements. Mom was shaken but no one was hurt.

Once we were all in side, there were some church friends eating that my mom went over and talked to. When they asked what was going on my mom said, "An old lady backed into me". An old lady, she said. My mom, a grandmother seven times over, was talking about being hit by an 'old lady'. However ironic that may be, I find it inspiring.

We keep asking ourselves the same question, "Why are so many people our same age getting so old?"

Then I hear people talking about Barak Obama and saying that they think he might be to young and inexperienced. Too young---at 47 years old, they are thinking he's too young with the same shake of the head as when your baby child gets their driver's license or when you go to parent teacher conferences and get a look at your kids teachers.

Forty seven and just a pup---now that's an America I can live in.

See you tomorrow night!

Head Shaken not stirred

2008-10-15T06:04:00.000-07:00

Back when I was in High School, we would have special dress up days at school. The family joke was that on nerd day we were well prepared---all we had to do was raid dad's closet. The styles that were so fashionable in the 60s and 70s were now perfect for nerd day.

Of course, this was because that by the 80s we were so sophisticated and looked so cool--how could those styles ever become ridiculous.

Actually, the 80s people in the clothing world had learned their lessons from the past, and knowing that styles always look strange in the future they had a secret plan. Build clothes so cheaply that they disintegrate within 10 years leaving no physical trace.

But anyway, when I was in college I was sporting the long heavy metal hair, big as you please. I was rockin' the free world. And I wasn't about to wear clothes that would look silly in the future. I had too much foresight for that. So at one point my folks bought me the pinnacle of heavy metal fashion cool---a black leather biker jacket. Of course that jacket's cool would last. It's been around since James Dean. It's timeless.

And I still stand by that. You can still buy them and now that Ramones (along with other classic bands) t-shirts are all the rage, the look has never been more classic. I still wear it on occasion, and when I have, friends of my children have given me thumbs up approval.

But when my red-head son comes up in only a t-shirt to go out in this wet and wintery type cold that we are starting to have, he would rather freeze to death in the rain than wear that jacket. He says he doesn't know where his hoodies are, but I would have to physically hold him down to get that thing on him. You would think I was trying to send him to school with a chicken on his head.

So the prize thing of cool goes unappreciated by the first born and will pass to the next in line, should he choose it when he gets big enough.

About that time is when I'm sure Robo will want one just like it. Because that's how the universe works. But it won't even fit him by then. So there.

And pull your pants up.

The Kitten Grows up!

2008-10-10T06:05:00.000-07:00

Yes, my lovely daughter turns the might 18 today!

And yes, she is registered to vote---I'm so proud of her.

I got her the School House Rock Election Edition DVD so she can brush up on her gov.

It comes with a map of the US and red and blue stickers so she can play at home come Nov 4!

Gotta love it.

The morning news

2008-10-03T05:47:00.000-07:00

This morning the Bear came in and said,

"I had a great dream!"

"Awesome!" I said "What was it about?"

"A Godzilla actor!"

Of course---silly daddy, what else would it be about.

"And he was singing."

Well, that part's new. A dinosaur operetta. Interesting.

"You be the Godzilla actor."

Um, ok. After several unsuccessful attempts, I finally got it right. Important things to remember: Godzilla doesn't dance with his song, and the song isn't cheery. It's a deep, rumbly song that sounds like what might play in the background as he throws himself in a volcano.

"Is that right?" I asked.

"Yes."

Whew. Cool. Finally.

"And I'll be the Allosaurus."

What?

"What does the Allosuarus do?"

"Godzilla! Turn that music down!"

oh.

Success. . .and all that comes with it

2008-08-29T06:59:00.000-07:00

The Kitten got the female lead in her High School Fall play!

Wow, that's excellent! Congrats to her!

They're doing Cyrano de Bergerac and she's playing Roxanne.

A classic. Impressive!

She came home last night from the first read through feeling a little odd that she has so much kissing to do.

What? Excuse me what? Now hold on a second. Hold on one ding dang second. . .

(I was going to end this post with:

"But she does most of the kissing with the nice, handsome, doctors son.

Oh, well---it is a classic, after all."

But I then I thought it might be prudent to exercise some self censorship in these delicate matters.)

When the world comes together for a funny dance

2008-08-15T18:59:00.001-07:00

Have you heard of this guy Matt? He was taking this dream trip of a lifetime around to several different countries, and he had this little funny dance that he did, so one of his friends said "do your dance" in Hanoi and I'll video tape it.

He did and they put it online. It got discovered and became a bit of an internet phenom. Then Stride Gum contacted him and said, "Hey, will sponsor you to go around the world with your funny dance". So he did!

Then, after the first trip was done, people were email him saying they wanted dance with him---so he got sent back around the world to dance with people.

Makes the heart soar.

Now if the Balloon Hat people would release that movie on video.

Gotta love the Free Music

2008-08-08T06:00:00.000-07:00

And gotta love supporting indi artists. This is how the new music biz of the internet age works. Give away free music and provide opportunities to let people start the buzz.

Found this site here this morning where I could download three free songs from the band House of Heroes.

Another cool site like this, if you're into the free music, is NoiseTrade.com. You pay what you want or tell three friends and get these albums free. Got the new Sixpense none the Richer EP over there----yeah, can you believe it, they're back together.

Then of course, there's always the free weekly downloads at iTunes and Amazonmp3.com.

Do you know where there's more free music? Please--do tell.

(Oh yeah---and happy year day! 8-8-08! At least there will be some fireworks this time on year day--at the Olympic opening ceremonies!)

Daughter as Rock Star

2008-07-22T06:13:00.001-07:00

Daughter as Rock Star

Well, the big concert night was a success. It was what I would call a New Band Showcase. Some of the acts were nicely polished, others may not have been ready for primetime. But a good time was had by all.

On her myspace page (myspace.com/samiangelmusic) she has some rough demos up that are her alone with piano. So when the promoter put the line-up together she had her with a lot of acoustic acts, usually single singer with acoustic guitar. However, she does perform with her brother on drums and a bass player, so they ended up being one of the loudest acts on the bill that night. Quite a change from her last couple of dates where she opened for Metal bands.

Robo was in heaven because the venue set up put a mic on all his drums, so he sounded more rock and roll than he ever had.

These guys defy style labels to the point where I'd been trying to describe them with verbiage mash-ups to try and communicate their sound. Knowing her writing and music style, I was struck by this photo to come up with the phrase Goth Cabaret Pop. I thought that encompassed her theatricality and piano singer approach, as well as the darker subjects she tackles (like a school mates suicide), but also the fact that she composes in a punchy, hooky pop style.

When I went to Wikipedia to help her understand what I meant by Cabaret, I found out that there is an indi style that has sprung up on the coasts at around 2005 that has been labeled Dark Cabaret. Very similar to her style, but she puts a different spin on it. Turns out she's cutting edge without even knowing it.

On the night, the drummer of the band after Sami Angel complimented my son on his drumming and asked how old he was. When the boy told him he was 12 the response came,

"No really, how old are you?"

Boy as Rockstar

2008-06-12T15:40:00.000-07:00

Think you knew all about the chess crowd?

Just a bunch of scrawny, brainy, anit-social geeks in that there chess club?

You ain't seen nothing yet.

Heck, I ain't seen nothing yet.

Check it out, the Hip Hop Chess Federation. The inner city chess club using chess, music and martial arts to promote unity, strategy and non-violence. http://www.hiphopchessfederation.org/ And then check out the Wu Tang clan's new chess site: www.wuchess.com

Looks like the game of kings is going back to the people.

'bout time.

Were you there when Bobby Kennedy died?

2008-06-06T07:55:00.000-07:00

I was around, but just barely. Still an infant. When I started realizing what was what in the world, it was just after Watergate and near the end of the Vietnam. All the air was gone from the balloon, but there was a tinge in the air still of 'what would it have been like if we'd gotten to see what Bobby promised'.

Now, on the month of the 40th anniversary of his death, a new democratic candidate of promise takes the stage. I can't help seeing that as significant.

I can't help but picturing a political illustration in my head of Barak is picking up a metaphorical fallen American flag off of a blood stained hotel kitchen floor, to carry it forward.

As I've watched Barak and listened to his book, I can't help but seeing a little Bobby Kennedy, a little Dr. King---oh, and a little Cliff Huxtable.

Maybe we'll get to see that promise after all. And hmmm, 40 years---like the Jews in the desert with Moses, waiting to cross over. We shall see.

The Angel Ascends

2008-06-06T07:03:00.000-07:00

You may or may not know, but my daughter has been budding as a young singer/songwriter for almost a couple of years now. We knew that she was interested in singing and could play the piano, but one day before her 16th birthday I came home from work and she and her mother eager ushered me over to the piano where she was going to perform a song that she had made up.

I allowed myself to be pulled along with a grin on my face that said I was glad to hear her song and that I was preparing to be fatherly proud, like I was with all the drawings on our fridge. She sat down and played a song that had been inspired by a boy from school who didn't return her affections (sometimes a person might think that boys were invented so girls would write music and poetry). The song was called TimBurton Romance. And when it was over I was speechless. It was much more than I had expected.

At that point, I must admit, I went into a bit of a depression for a couple of days. I was unprepared for her to cross over from kid to artist so quickly and unexpectedly. I kind of felt like she had something there and I suddenly wouldn't have anything to offer her any more---that she would have out grown me. Of course, all this was unfounded and she's been great for having me along still. I just had to make the transition from daddy/teacher to artist/collaborator, and it's been quite a ride.

She made her debut at her 16th birthday where we hooked a keyboard into the DJs sound system that was playing for our backyard party. It was a Tim Burton themed costume party, so everyone was dressed up as a character from a Tim Burton Movie. She had not played her song for anyone before this point, keeping it a secret, and when she was done, all her friends exploded with cheers. They were all as impressed as I had been. A true rock star moment.

Now, a year and half and a whole roster of new songs later, she is blossoming again. A few weeks ago she put up an artist page on myspace---and was discovered (after a fashion). A least enough to get offered a spot on the roster at the popular indi underground concert space in Omaha. She's joined up with her brother on drums and a friend who just moved back on bass--and now she has her first "pro" gig on July 17th!

They call themselves Sami Angel (Sami pronounced saw-me---it's a nickname that she got in high school from friends who believed it to be the word in Japanese for 'innocent'. She later found out when taking a class in Japanese that it really doesn't mean anything in any language, but she kept it all the same).

Check them out at myspace.com/samiangelmusic. She has some samples of her music up there (just keep in mind that these are basement tape demo grade samples at the moment--we're working on getting more fully polished versions posted).

Oh, and don't forget to 'friend' her if you have a myspace page. :-)

2008-05-29T20:50:00.001-07:00

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2008-05-24T04:23:00.001-07:00

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2008-05-22T20:44:00.001-07:00

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2008-05-20T07:25:00.001-07:00

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This could get addicting

2008-05-18T17:04:00.001-07:00

My little girl's prom, 2007. Have you checked out animoto.com yet? All this is automated. You tell it what photos to use (you can upload it from your desktop or it can slurp it in from Flickr), select some of it's music (and it's not lame, as you can see--these are artists on iTunes that are letting us use their music) and tell it go and it makes videos! Just takes a little patience while it does all the heavy lifting. If anyone does one of these, please let me know. I'd love to see it!

2008-05-16T06:11:00.001-07:00

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2008-05-16T06:08:00.001-07:00

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This is so Awesome

2008-05-07T13:22:00.001-07:00

2008-05-06T08:37:00.001-07:00

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Where I babble on like an idiot

2008-05-05T18:02:00.001-07:00

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2008-05-03T08:25:00.001-07:00

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2008-05-01T17:49:00.000-07:00

So tonight as I write this I'm missing another event. I must make a confession. I've become a bit of an NPR groupie. I listen to hours of NPR podcast each week, and now some of my favorite shows are on there. I find myself being more fond of these radio programs than I am of TV (even Lost!).

And some of the people from these shows have come through town and I have missed them because I could schedule around to see them. It's getting very frustrating. I missed Kurt Anderson's visit (he's from Studio 360), I missed Krista Tippit (from Speaking of Faith), even missed a concert by David Sedaris.

And tonight, the supreme paper cut with lemon juice in it---This American Life is having a life simulcast event from New York that is not being shown in our area! Two digital theaters around here and neither are hosting this event! The closest theater is two hours away. I might have been able to drive, but again---schedule. Sigh.

But the wife and I console ourselves in the thought that we may one day get to Chicago for a live taping of Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me.

One can only dream.

Dad blew up the microwave

2008-04-04T19:28:00.000-07:00

It started with a pancake.

Don't under estimate the pancake. They can cause a lot of trouble.

Last Saturday morning was very crazy, with kids having to go in all different directions for different activities and mom at work. I was trying to get them ready and popped a plate of left over pancakes in the microwave to heat up for breakfast for the youngest two. They drag their feet sometimes when offer toast or oatmeal. But never an argument with pancakes. I couldn't lose.

I walked out of the kitchen for a moment to check and see how the 'getting ready' progress was happening in the boys room, shoes getting on, teeth getting brushed, all that. On my way I looked over my daughter's shoulder who was at the computer watching a home made lightsaber battle video on Youtube. Quite a well done one, at that.

While I was watching, Lemur came into the room to stand beside me.

"Dad, I think you should come see this," he said, obviously referring to something in the other room.

"What, buddy?" I asked, unsure of what little nothing of a something had caught his focus, derailing his progress.

He saw what was playing on the computer, and his interest was immediately diverted.

"After this." he said, and settled in to watch the rest of the video with us, huddled around the monitor.

After a moment, I began to hear the beeping of the smoke detector, like it was thinking about starting to scream.

Immediately, I went to investigate. As I turn the corner into the kitchen, I see smoke rolling out of the still going microwave! Lemur is right behind me.

"That's what I was going to show you."

(We have since had several discussions about how if smoke is coming out of ANYTHING, that is NOT a discussion that can wait---even if there is a good video playing on Youtube. )

Looking at the cooking timer, there is still 7 minutes counting down. Somehow, while intending to set it for 30 seconds like I have done a million times before, I had set it for 10 minutes or something instead.

I hit the door button to stop the cooking. A heavy, thick, acrid cloud of black tar like smoke floped heavily out of the front of the oven and began to take over the room. I rush to the back door and open it, hoping to create a cross current to take this nastiness outside. As I get just around the corner from the kitchen, opening the door to the outside, I hear a noise behind me that sounds like an armload of plates had just been dropped on the floor.

Turning to run back into the kitchen I holler, "What was that!??"

A wide eyed Lemur is standing in the other door to the kitchen, with a fascinated, bemused and slightly shocked look on his face.

"The plate blew up!"

I looked on the floor and it was littered with a all different sized fragments of Correl plate. Inside the blackened microwave there were more. Apparently the plate had gotten very hot, and when I opened the door it had begun to cool too fast. The pressures pushing against itself, expanding and contracting like a crazy science class demonstration, had caused such tension in the plate that it had exploded, blasting all over the kitchen. I was so glad that for once my kids had exercised some wisdom to stay out of the kitchen as I ran through. I can't stand to think of what could have happened if they had wanted to get a closer look at the devastation.

The Bear was in the living room, standing in front of the T.V. watching cartoons, as I made my way to open the front door and get the air flow moving.

"My throat is scratchy," he said, doing a funny little dance while not taking his eyes off the cartoons for a moment.

I ushered them all to a place in the house where the smoke wasn't flowing and opened some more windows so they could take in some fresh air.

I unplugged the oven and took it to the garage. There was no saving it now. Even if we could clean it up, everything we cooked in there from now on would have a slight taste of ashtray. So out it went, pancakes and all. They were still just setting inside, two little black disks. They hadn't burned up like in a fire with a flame. They just turned into perfectly shaped pancake charcoal briquettes, like left over special effects from an Indiana Jones movie.

Later that morning, leaving the house with the lingering smell of mistake, I went to the ever present Wal-Mart to find a replacement oven for the recently deceased. If I hadn't, I think we may have starved to death. One thing I learned after carting the new one home and setting it up in our kitchen---those things look a lot smaller on the store shelves.

So now I have this monolith in our kitchen that mocks me every time I walk through. This monument that tries to politely hide it's smile when I come into the room, but I can tell what it's thinking. . . "You are such an idiot".

The next day as we were trying to get ready for church, I was dealing again with the challenges of getting bodies out the door in the morning and tried to re-play my trump card breakfast offering, determined this time not to mess it up.

But, alas, I no longer have a sure fire winner in my morning meal arsenal. Bear's only reply to the offer. . .

"No! Pancakes blow up!"

To paraphrase Ghostbusters. . .

2008-02-24T15:56:00.000-08:00

"When someone asks you if you want a 36" t.v.---you say YES!"

This week, my parents will be getting an LCD flatpannel, so today we became the proud inheritors of their old 36" tube TV! An unexpected event that spawned much happy-dancing.

It is, of course, dramatically larger than anything we've had before. Too large, in fact, to even fit into our living room entertainment center. Even in our planning for the future we never saw a day when we'd get into something like this.

So far, when all the kids have come into the 'playroom' (where we ended up putting it), the first thing out of their mouths is 'woah'.

It is an unbelievable upgrade over the little 19" they had attached to the Playstation. Lemur even made note that now the Star Wars Legos game is several times bigger on the screen than actual Leggos.

In other news. . .

After I hooked everything up, the little Bear was primed for an outing. The place he wanted to go? The place of greatest adventure in his mind? Wal-Mart.

But an odd thing, happened. When we pulled into the Wal-Mart parking lot, he immediately broke into tears. I know many socially active folk have done the same, but for him it's different. He at first wouldn't even allow me to say that it was in fact Wal-Mart we were parked in front of. When he gave to that point, seeing as I wouldn't concede it, he then went on about how this wasn't the Wal-Mart he wanted to go to. But it's the only one we have. So, I asked him, where was this other Wal-Mart he wanted to go to. He said he wanted to go to the Wal-Mart in the sky, pointing his little index finger to the roof of the car.

The Wal-Mart. In the sky.

I have no idea.

Sounds like some sort of Texas metaphor. It will be of those mysteries that dies with the universe. So we headed back home. Which was fine with me.

That's where the Wal-o-Video was.

Happy VD

2008-02-14T10:05:00.000-08:00

So today is the day of love and merriment . . . for some.

The red head boy is having his first Valentines Day of twitterpation. There is a young lady he is fond of and he went out and bought her a special something with his own money. He went to Halmark and picked out a love hippo (she collects hippos--and the love hippo is all plush and soft and read and white with hearts and stuff).

But he also experienced the need to budget. After getting the hippo he had nothing left for candy or flowers. His frustration was compounded when Dad didn't have money to buy stuff for his girl either--so no amount of begging could help.

The daughter is experiencing her first Valentines day of heart-ache. Her break up was months ago but the wound still lingers and flares occasionally---like on a day that focuses all of it's efforts on romance.

So she is making this a black Valentines with some of her love lorn friends. She wrote a poem for her creative writing class, "Let me Burn you a Valentine" in preparation. Then today she dressed all in black, with her knee high, platform mega buckle boots (that her Grandma got her for Christmas!), black make-up and fingernails and Dad's black leather biker jacket. (If I were a teen age boy, I'd be in love.)

She also had her Winnie the Pooh backpack. She's so awesome.

Networking Socially

2008-01-22T06:21:00.000-08:00

There is the constant concern voiced that the internet is going to ruin our young people's ability to socialize. That they are going to become interpersonally crippled, only able to text other in short bursts of cryptic acronyms.

This last Friday I had to take clothes over to my son who was spending the second night with a friend, and that fear was put to rest for me.

When I came in, four teen age boys were sitting around the computer screen surfing YouTube. They were laughing, all talking at once, so excited to show me the goofy little shorts that they found, arguing about control of the keyboard in their enthusiasm.

Seemed a definite improvement over T.V. to me. Perhaps this writers strike wasn't such a bad thing after all.

From the mouths. . .

2007-12-29T19:30:00.000-08:00

This morning we finally had a chance to have a slow wake up. After all the holiday rushing it was nice to get back to. We cuddled and soon were joined by a little man who crawled up into bed with us as everything grew slowly lighter.

Then, out of the gentle quiet a small voice popped up. All parents expect these questions to come up from their young ones from time to time, as he turned over and asked;

"Mommy, do aliens fart?"

Ah, those cherished milestones.

Ok, maybe all not all parents. Maybe just us.

2007-12-26T12:45:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a memory filled holiday with family and kids and noisy toys et al.

It was also the day of the year that the kids can't help but get up too early and then it's fun, fun, fun all the non-stop day---to where you don't want to pull away for anything as silly as a nap that will rob you of some quality time not to be repeated. So I fought the every increasing blurr that I had to haze through, as I kind of do all holidays and a fair number of regular days, to keep the Kodak moments coming.

When the day slows down, sometimes it catches up with you a bit.

Putting the kids to bed, as was customary, I lay down beside Lemur for our evening cuddle as he drifts off to sleep. It's something that I started with my daughter and have carried on ever since. It's a time when we lay in the dark for a few minutes of quiet discussion and wind down, usually just after I get home from work. As the kids have moved into their own rooms I have passed down to the next shift of under-teens. Lemur is the primary candidate at the moment. The little Bear is more partial to things that have scales and breathe pretend fire than the male parent. I'm holding out that his day will come.

As I lay down on top of the blankets that Lemur is under, he scrunches close and wraps my arm tight in a bear hug. He's of the strategy that the tighter he clings, the longer I'll stay. But this time he's outdone himself and his grip has given a small portion of his index finger the pins and needles. Not the whole hand, he tells me, not even the whole finger---just a small, very specific spot.

And as he's dealing with the discomfort, his mind wanders over to where "why is the sky blue" lives and he asks, "Dad, what makes you get pins and needles."

Well, he's a smart kind and ready, I think, to handle a more technical description of what is happening, so in my mind I gear up to phrase an answer about nerve endings and pinched signals and all that when I hear him suddenly ask, "What did you say?"

This confused me as at that moment I hadn't thought I had said anything. In fact, at that moment it was fuzzy to me that we were even involved in a conversation. "Um. . .I don't think I said anything."

"Just now, you were starting to say something about my finger and you just stopped."

Then it dawned---I had fallen asleep mid-sentence! Trying to recover, I began again talking about nerve endings and got to the point in the explanation where the ever so wise daddy says, "And because of that, this happens. . ." But as I was turning that corner I realized that I had no idea of what I had just said! I had said something, I was sure this time, but for all I knew it wasn't even a coherent sentence. But keeping the ball in the air, I plodded dutifully onward---"And that's why, bla bla bla. . ."

Finally finishing the explanation there was a pause and I could tell he was trying to make sense of everything I'd just said. Heck, I was trying to make sense of everything I'd just said. I'm sure it must have come out like some obtuse metaphoric platitude of a mountain top mystic, and bless his heart, he was searching like a little Padiuan for that ah-ha moment.

Then, to ease his mind, I pulled him close and told him we could talk more about this in the daytime (in my mind thinking, "when daddy is a little more lucid").

Another sterling Father/Son moment.

Three Generations of Chess

2007-12-08T09:56:00.001-08:00

Three Generations of Chess
Originally uploaded by CyberJazzDaddy.

The Dad to the Son to the Grandson, embroiled in our annual game of three way chess. First year for the little guy though. It was a good game till he took off for the Wii and left my dad two armies against my one. I fell in spectacular fashion.

This post . . . is for me.

2007-11-08T21:34:00.000-08:00

A lot of the things I write here I kind of do with the thought of a person reading it in mind. I write about things I feel pretty confident would go over well in a conversation over coffee----with the added benefit of being able to construct the telling with a little more thought. Funny stories about being with the kids, little anecdotes---you know.

But this post is some thing that I treasure inside my head that I’m fairly sure would quickly produced glazed eyes and sudden convenient distractions if I ever brought it up live with anyone. I can talk about my kids and find people to listen. I’ve found couples that look at my wife and I and ask us about how we first met with genuine interest. But this is about another love affair that I’ve seldom, if ever, spoken about with anyone in any kind of detail.

It is an affair I’ve had for many years with a woman. Actually two women. And two men. And a horse. And 16 little guys, some clergy and couple towers.

Of course, I’m talking about Chess.

If you’re still reading, you have my deep appreciation.

The love affair began one summer, as love affairs often do. The day was buzzing with the excitement of the first day of a vacation trip with the family. I remember the sun shining brightly through the tree limbs in the front yard, and grass I was waiting on being very green, and all the standard summer noises that would grace the soundtrack of any movie about a small town in the 70s making their way through the neighborhood.

But this vacation was going to be a little different. We were waiting for cousins from West Virginia. Cousins who would be meeting up with us to come along on the trip. Cousins I had never met before. And we were going back to West Virginia to meet a whole lot of other family on my father’s side that I’d never met before. Exciting and intimidating all at the same time. But since I was only 9 or so, the feeling of adventure ahead trumped everything else and I was anxious to begin.

When the relatives finally did arrive and piled out of their car at our front curb, it was instantly recognizable that they were made up pretty much like us---two parents and two boys, one about my brother’s age and one about my own.

Parents greeted Parents warmly and they walked up to the house. They had known each other well years before and had not seen each other in a long time. I’m sure they wanted to relax a little after a long drive and get caught up a little. My brother and the younger boy trounced off like two puppies, leaving me and the older boy standing there trying to make conversation.

I don’t know what we tried to talk about initially, but at one point, in an attempt to fill the awkward silence, he asked, “Do you play chess?”

Honestly, when he asked, I had no idea of ever having even heard the word before.

“What’s chess?” I asked.

He clamored back into the car and pulled out a squat rectangular box about the size of a Chinese take out container. It was a flat red with black and white print, a silhouette of a horse’s head on the sides. Not a fancy or glossy box, it might have contained an oil filter for all of it’s lack of presentation.

He told me it was a game. Thinking back, the box did look fairly new and I can imagine he probably had gotten it as something to keep him busy on the long road trip. But, when he opened it and took out one of the pieces, and my concept of games was changed forever.

The playing pieces were red and white hollow plastic, but they weren’t mundane disks or places holders, or even like Monopoly top hats and cars. They weren’t even the standard abstract Staunton chess pieces that are so common. They were little faces. Busts from what I imagined a medieval court. They were puffy faces and not particularly attractive, but compared to what I had always though of as ‘game pieces’, they were magnificent.

The King and Queen and even the Bishop seemed disapproving and oppressive like the queen in Alice’s Wonderland. Wonderfully foreboding. The horses for Knights were detailed and regal. Even the Rooks showed actual stonework. And all the little Pawns were heads of armored soldiers ready for battle, the helmet more of a French styling showing their faces, rather than the classic Arthurian warrior.

When he brought out the board to play, I was familiar with that. It was the board I’d played checkers on tons of times before. But after setting up the pieces in a very exacting way, and learning that now the red squares were fair game, I was to learn that the detail and intricacy of the pieces didn’t stop at their appearance. Each one had a very specific and distinct way of moving and capturing, with certain special rules that applied only in certain situations.

I was hooked.

Miserably bad, I don’t think I won a single game. But that didn’t seem to matter. I was fascinated with the game for the rest of the trip. So much so that my parents got me a set just like his when we got to WV. I don’t know what ever became of it, and I haven’t seen one like it since. I sure would love to find one like it again.

Chess in my life has experienced periods of dormancy, and then will come back into focus each time with a stronger pull than before. On my break this past Sept. I had a chance to revisit chess and get stirred up again. I’m in the middle of a period of quasi-obsession with it right now, hence this article. I may relate the high points of chess in my memory over a couple more future posts.

This morning the Lemur stayed home because he wasn’t feeling well.

On Thursdays I go into work late. In my dept each person has one evening shift each week, and Thursdays are mine. So I was home with him hanging out this morning. When his mother was out running errands and the DVD he was watching ended, he wandered in to the kitchen where I was playing computer chess on the laptop over a bowl of oatmeal. He sat down beside me and watched me, and we started discussing the options of each move and what might happen as a result---then watching what the computer did to see if we had thought every possibility through or not.

And he was really getting into it.

We did that for about an hour and then he went in and brought out his chess set. I have given each of our kids a tournament grade plastic chess set with roll up board and bag for the pieces at about 8 years old. He brought his out, rolled out the board and set up the pieces wanting to play.

I’m always so flattered when he does this. He knows that I have more experience and play better than he does, so I don’t think he does it to try and see if he can beat me. It’s more that he enjoys grappling with me here on the board as much as he does wrestling with me on the living room carpet.

And I love watching him play.

Watching his concentration and the wheels turning. It’s always been some of the best moments when I see my kids making mental connections and discoveries. Like the first time I hear them reading their simple first books, it has never failed to bring tears to my eyes. To me it’s such an amazing transformation to see them go from little child to budding literate. To me it’s as fascinating as seeing a butterfly emerge from a cocoon.

Seeing him blossom and test his problem solving capabilities right there in front of me is just another way chess is adding quality to my life.

Really!??

2007-11-07T06:14:00.000-08:00

My son in the special ed classes at school stunned us last night by learning to read! He's the oldest in his kindergarten class and has only started to grasp the alphabet, but last night his mother was playing a game with him on a little art easel he has, and she taught him to recognize the words mom, dad, dog, cat. . . that sort of thing. And he could still do it this morning when we pointed to them!

Considering we had no idea how much he even understood of the things we said to him when he started school, we are quite excited.

Now if we can just teach him that sitting on his friend's heads on the playground is not acceptable, we'll be golden!

So it's Halloween then. . .

2007-10-31T14:59:00.001-07:00

I took the day off to help the the trick or treaters. Our youngest is going as a dinosaur. . .again.

The Lemur made a special appointment with Grandma to go out shopping for an extra special costume this year. The guiding thought was that it had to involve a sword. So he ends up going as a ninja. . .again!

The red head is letting himself be dressed up as a girl by two girls from his class. Ah, the burdens of being a good looking teen boy.

And, as it turns out, my daughter had a concert she wanted to go to and I was the only one to get her there.

So I spent October 31 with these guys. That's kind of scary. Right?

The Ball Drops

2007-10-25T18:37:00.000-07:00

So, I’m 40 now.

There’s no more denying it. I’m officially a grown-up.

To be honest, though, I’ve kind of thought of myself in a 40ish category for the last three years, so there’s really no heartache.

My wife turned 40 in February, and we had a big party then with all our out of town friends who could come down. So no big party this time. We kind of had our fanfare back then.

During that weekend, we took my wife to the roller-skating rink for a little flashback fun. It was excellent when we walked up to the window and the guy behind the glass asked if we were here to pick up some kids and we said, “No way, we’re here to skate!” He didn’t actually roll his eyes, but you could tell he was doing it on the inside. We definitely were the oldest skaters that night---by decades. It was fun, but it wasn’t quite the flashback feeling that I was hoping for. The music wasn’t right. I think the oldest song was from 1998. I needed some Foreigner or Boston. Something.

The wife and I will be going out this Saturday, though. To also celebrate our 18^th Anniversary.

It’s nice to have the anniversary so close to my birthday. That way I can put my focus on the part where I enjoy accumulating years.

When I was in High School, I started being in rehearsal during all of my birthdays. So I’d just take cupcakes to rehearsal and call it a party. The last big party I had was when I turned 21. I got a bunch of college friends from the Drama department together and we all went to Chucky Cheeses’ and danced with the 4 year olds. It was a riot.

At my wife’s party I announced that this was her “Life Begins at 40” party. I may have said this before, but it’s like this: You have freedom but no wisdom in your twenties, so you get in all sorts of messes. You have wisdom but no freedom in your thirties, because you are busy fixing all the messes from your twenties. Then you hit forty, and if you play your cards right, you have both wisdom and freedom---so let the good times roll!

And I think the Bible supports this, too. Remember 40 days and 40 nights of rain, 40 years in the desert seeking the promised land, and 40 days in the desert being tempted by the devil before Jesus’ ministry began-----see, all the good stuff started after 40!

Besides, I’m not even at midlife yet---by my calculations I have another 20 years before that sets in.

So raise a glass. Here’s lookin’ back at cha.

As I enter my home I see. . .

2007-10-18T20:40:00.000-07:00

Our two youngest boys watching a favorite Godzilla movie, with the little Bear acting it out as he watches it with one of his two headed dragon toys (he's Godzilla, of course). Mother is sitting at the kitchen table reading Mort de Aurthur (King Arthur) in the original Mallory old English text. The teens are in the playroom in a heated Guitar Hero battle.

So nothing left to do but heat up a bowl of chili and grab a chess strategy book and nestle in.

It can rain all it wants. We've got it covered.

Good Morning Starshine

2007-10-14T15:23:00.001-07:00

Good Morning Starshine
Originally uploaded by CyberJazzDaddy.

You get up on a quiet fall morning while it's still dark. You putter around in dimly lit rooms getting ready for the day while you're body keeps trying to convince you to go back to bed. It's convinced we're walking about in the middle of the night when there is still quality hours of sleep to be had.

When you finally are ready to force yourself out into to the world despite all inner feelings to the contrary, you throw open the door to find this!

A huge spider has made a web across the opening to the door and is sitting there in the center of it right at eye level. Needless to say, you quietly close the door and exit out the other end of the house, hoping that he'll have decided to relocate by the time you get back in the evening.

Can there be any question left that October is here?

The Almost Homecoming

2007-09-30T20:24:00.001-07:00

The Almost Homecoming
Originally uploaded by CyberJazzDaddy.

This is the outfit that my daughter and her mother got together for Homecoming. Very Stevie Nicks, they thought.

Unfortunately, there was a bit of a break up in the Kitten's life with really bad timing. It was very amicable. Their paths diverged in the wood and the took opposite forks. After that she just wasn't up to seeing all the other cozy couples at the dance.

Her afternoon was filled with watching and episode of Doctor Who we have on DVD with a friend who hadn't seen the finale of season 3. Kitten was even ok that this friend stopped in between her Homecoming hair appointment and getting her nails done.

Later, though, my poor little girl did have a little trouble when things got slow and she couldn't get her mind off it. But she recovered enough to take pictures of her friends in their Homecoming attire before they went to the dance.

After that is was "Daddy Date". I took her over to the grandparents house (they we out and have a killer home theater set-up), and we had a little Tim Burton film fest. She said she enjoyed the evening after all.

The mom was still disappointed that she didn't get to use the fun get-up.

Do it. Do it! You know you want to. Go ahead--talk like a pirate. . .Arrg.

2007-09-19T07:27:00.000-07:00

My pirate name is:

Black William Kidd

Like anyone confronted with the harshness of robbery on the high seas, you can be pessimistic at times. Even though you're not always the traditional swaggering gallant, your steadiness and planning make you a fine, reliable pirate. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.
part of the fidius.org network

And my Wife:

My Wife's pirate name is:

Mad Jenny Bonney

Every pirate is a little bit crazy. You, though, are more than just a little bit. You can be a little bit unpredictable, but a pirate's life is far from full of certainties, so that fits in pretty well. Arr!

Get your own pirate name from piratequiz.com.
part of the fidius.org network

Oh, and if you have a Flickr account you can scroll to the bottom where the language choices are and change your choice to "Arr" and Flickr will talk to you like a pirate! How stinkin' cool is that!

Just a little

2007-09-18T12:35:00.000-07:00

Sitting here. Empty house.

Bear gone with Mom. Dentist. Having work done. Hope he manages all right. Poor little dude. Sending up little prayers.

Got to go get Lemur from school soon. He likes having his dad home. He's eager to do homework because we're doing it together. Now that I'm home and can.

But for now, just sit. Just quiet.

Robo bought a new cell phone yesterday with his birthday money. Prepaid. He feels like he's part of the world now.

Daughter has play practice tonight. Her first real part on stage in a main High School show with lines and everything.

It's fall of her Junior year. They're doing The Crucible.

In the fall of my Junior year, at this same school (with a different director), I did The Crucible.

She's playing the character of Mary Warren.

In that fall of 1985, her mother was in this same play with me, playing Mary Warren.

At our first read through, her mother came in wearing purple sweatpants and a matching purple sweatshirt.

My wife told my daughter if she goes to her first rehearsal and sees someone wearing purple----run.

Update: Bear and mom return. Puffy little cheek. Apparently there were tears. He's ok now though. Has to go back in future to get other side done. More prayers.

For the Mom

2007-09-12T19:40:00.000-07:00

Last night I was at Lemur's soccer game with my mom and she happened to mention that she really missed reading my blog at night before going to sleep. It has been a while. I've kind of been busy with life a little, and she totally understands, but at the same time I also know what it's like to check a blog day after day, watching it like a perpetually empty mailbox for the day when the bliss it provides will return. So tonight I've set aside time to write a little. It may not be anything particularly wonderful, but it will be words on the screen. (And a little love to the momma).

If you have been following my Twitter postings on the side bar there, then you are no doubt aware that I am currently on my Sabbatical from work. What is going on there is that our very young company (young to the business world, put a pillar that has stood the test of time by Internet standards) has decided to give an incentive to it's workers to stay with the company. This incentive comes in the form of an extra 4 week block of paid time off after each 5th year of service. I kind of believe that we are the beneficiaries of our main company offices being in the Tech Valley in CA. I understand that the job market is pretty brutal out there and so companies have to be extra aggressive to keep the talent. And here I am in the middle of fly-over country loving every crumb that drops from the table.

Since this is such a remarkable thing for a company to do, many people in the office take once in a lifetime type trips to celebrate. I've heard of more than a few marriages have planned their happy day around this break so as to take an extra long honeymoon. One manager that I went to high school with has a brother-in-law living in Switzerland, so he took his family to spend the month in Europe. There was even one gentleman who lived a life long dream and followed the Yankees on the road, taking in 21 games in that month in several states.

And then there's me. I'm not in a place to do anything so grand. The money isn't there for a fancy trip, so I'm simply living every simple little thing I'm not able to normally because time doesn't permit when I'm working. I did start my break by attending a three day music festival in Sioux Falls SD with my oldest two, which was amazing. We may have to make that an annual event. If I can't get to Cornerstone, this is the next best thing.

Before that I was checking the Ditty Bops website for concert dates and got a great surprise. I had seen that they had gotten as close as Kansas before and thought that this was the only group I knew the Lemur would get into, so I thought it might make a good road trip for us since he wouldn't be much interested in the festival, except for the fact that I was doing something with the other two and not him. As it turned out, they were coming through to Lincoln, only an hour away! So we loaded up and went. It was an all ages show in a little dive attached to a local watering hole in the downtown area and we got back way after his bedtime on a school night, but it was so worth it. Those girls are Fantastic live. I can't wait to see them again. It was his first proper real concert and he was so tuned into the whole experience.

Since then I've been living the simple life, working around the house, fixing little things that have been hanging around my neck for the past several years. Patching a hole in the driveway, finishing the fence, going through the stuff in the attic. Also doing things with the family that I usually miss out on. Such as attending the soccer game I mentioned at the top. Also, picking up the kids from school, helping with homework. And because they are at school part of the day, the wife and I have taken advantage of that time to get a little re-acquainted. Just being alone in the house together is a unique occurrence. We've taken walks, gone down to the locally owned coffee shop in the middle of the morning, rented and watched movies in the middle of the day. We've even had our first eBay sale (I think I made a whole buck).

None of this is even mildly impressive and I'm sure I'm going to have a workmate or two who will silently (or maybe not so silently) feel I've squandered this rare gift. But far from squandering, from my perspective I've cashed it in a very rewarding way.

And I even snuck in a trip to the Apple store. Have you seen the new Nano? It's a crazy small gorgeous little piece of wonder!

Fashion is a lie!

2007-08-21T19:57:00.001-07:00

But of course, you knew that.

Now see it in action!

Check out the portfolio at iWANEX STUDIO. Click on “portfolio” then click on the thumbnails below. Mouse-over the photos for "before and after".

(Thanks Applegeeks!)

Fashion is a lie!

2007-08-21T19:57:00.000-07:00

Snapshot: 10 things from right now

2007-08-15T05:29:00.000-07:00

1. Got up this morning 30 minutes before the alarm. I guess that means I'll be ready for next week when I start getting up earlier to take the kids to school.

2. I'm listening to an audio book on the history of chess. My brother thinks it's to help me sleep.

3. Lil Bear's heart tests came back ok. They said doesn't look like we have any thing to worry about.

4. But the doc does want to do a Kidney test now after he's better because of his frequent urinary tract infections.

5. Kitten made her first saved-up-for-it-from-her-job-and-bought-something-big purchase yesterday. A digital camera. A very nice one, too.

6. Getting Mom on Skype so she can talk to her Brazilian friends more often without worrying about cost---cause it can be free!

7. Lemur just finished soccer camp and is now signed up for the fall league. It'll be interesting to see if this is his thing.

8. The wife read book 6, and purchased book seven of Harry Potter, and she's now going back and reading the whole series from the Library.

9. I'm planning to take the kids to a three day music festival over labor day weekend. We might be camping. Oy.

10. When I lay in bed and can't sleep, I blog in my head.

Weird US - Grotto of the Redemption

2007-08-11T08:51:00.001-07:00

Amazing stuff, and in Iowa of all places!

Looks like the Jones are trying to keep up with ME!

2007-08-07T10:26:00.001-07:00

I don't have a Lexus.

I don't have a Country Club membership.

I don't have a summer Vacation Home or a Rolex.

But I do have four kids and NPR is reporting that this is something now becoming trendy among the jet set.

Have a listen.

We were just ahead of the curve. :-)

Treasure

2007-08-05T08:19:00.000-07:00

A friend's father had a stroke a week ago.

His dad is physically o.k. I'm told. He isn't paralyzed on one side of his body like I've come to expect when hearing about strokes. He apparently seemed fine, or as fine as a person can be expected to be after a stroke.

But they were a bit thrown when he asked for a cigarette. He hasn't smoked in over twenty years.

Apparently what the stroke took was his memory. It reset the clocks to the late 70s.

He woke up feeling like just yesterday he had spent time with his 9 year old boy, and now this nearly 40 year old man with a wife and 4 kids is standing before him telling him that he's that little boy. Only fast forward past the century mark.

This must be more than a bit horrifying. Looking in the mirror and being instantly old. Finding out like it was the first time all the people that are gone. He had to suffer through the trauma of being informed that his sister went blind for a second time.

When I think of what can be stolen from a person, their health, their property, their status or reputation, to me this would feel like the greatest crime. To loose nearly 30 years of experience, of joyful moments, of quiet contentment. To loose 30 years of the building blocks of your personhood.

Frederick Buechner wrote a passage I liked on journaling, which I feel can apply equally to blogging.

He wrote:

"It is a Mark of wisdom to realize how precious our days are,

even the most uneventful of them.

If we can keep them alive by only a line or so about each,

at least we will know what we're sighing about when the last of them comes."

Amen.

Blog on people, Blog on.

Backyard campout---oh, what a night

2007-07-25T18:29:00.001-07:00

Backyard campout---oh, what a night
Originally uploaded by CyberJazzDaddy.

This summer, and all last summer, the kids have been asking when we are going camping for real. And when my wifes mom bought us a huge family sized tent, I knew there could be no denying now. I'd have to follow through sooner or later.

So we engaged a little experiment this last weekend: the Backyard camp-out.

We put up the big thing in the back yard to try it and see. A dry run to point out the weak spots before we actually haul this thing out into the wild. The number one rule---daddy gets the air mattress.

There were mixed results. I did discover that putting up a tent in your backyard increases the hyperactivity quotient in you children by a factor of 10 (roughly). When the time came to lay down and get ready for actual sleeping, I began to feel restraints may be in order.

We finally got everyone settled down to read a book, and shut off the flashlight. The first one to abandon the effort was the oldest boy, the only camping veteran. It was a cool evening, around 70 degrees, and he turns over and asks, "Do we have a fan we can bring out here?"

A fan.

In a tent.

My "Of course not!" sent him back into the house. The call of a cool bedroom and comfortable bed was just too strong.

Next to leave was my daughter. She said she was getting a headache.

So the two youngest and I were all that was left. Mommy was the smart one. She took some photos, kissed us good-night and went inside from the start.

My big discovery: There's a reason people don't camp out in the city. They are as follows:

*Traffic
*City lights
*The Fire Department (did you know they work at night--with sirens! How rude!)
*Trains
*Wedding parties driving around honking horns after the reception is over late at night.
*Cats fighting. Which I had to break up. Which the boys clamored out of the tent to watch. Which then meant I had to herd them back into the tent. The boys, that is, not the cats.
*Cat's wanting to come in and meowing at you through the tent wall
*People getting up and going to work before the sun comes up with much slamming of car doors

All this and my deflating air mattress meant that I didn't get much sleep. But the boys thought it was great!

Onward.

2007-07-08T04:18:00.000-07:00

It's 5:30 in the morning. I've been up since four.

I woke up with a headache, shuffled to the kitchen in the dark and took something for it. It went away but my mind began swirling like it does sometimes. Nothing in particular that should be keeping me up, nothing that should be causing turmoil in my brain. But it just starts firing off in all sorts of directions at once for no reason, like a snow globe shaken real hard with all the little flakes going round and round, and then I can't sleep.

I came out to the couch to see if a change of venue might help. It does sometimes. Not this time. The sky out the windows is starting to turn a lighter blue. They'll be no sleep now.

Till this afternoon after church, then I'll be aching for a nap.

I sadly have been very absent from blogging, I know. And it's not that I haven't thought about it. I have tons of things that I think of writing about. The birthday of the Lemur at the pool. Spending the 4th at my brother's house 3 hours to the west. Afternoons with the family. But there never seems to be time to just sit down and write. Days filled with the everyday. Then, when a friend from out of town visits and asks, "So, what have you been up to?", they get a blank look and a shrug, "Not much, really".

There's work, of course. Tending the house. Running errands. I usually arrive back home in time for the bathing of the children. I try to spend time with each of them. We talk about things that occupy their minds. Friends, the days adventures, funny things that happened---with the little Bear there's always a thought about Godzilla. Yet, it feels like I swing from one to the other, hand over hand like crossing the monkey bars at the playground. Not having enough time with any one of them.

I did find a good book that I'm reading to the two youngest boys at bedtime. "The invention of Hugo Caberet" by Brian Selznek. It's one of those amazing books that we find every so often that engages them and me in equal measure, at the same time. The story is dramatic, imaginative, and none of us have any idea where it will take us next, which makes it very exciting. The book has a novel convention that it's using where every so often the text will stop and the narrative is picked up by several pages of drawings, like story-boards for a movie. Then when the text picks up again, it'll start with the story where the pictures left off. These bedtime readings are full of wonderful moments where a corner is turned and Lemur and I look up at each other with a spark at what has just been revealed.

Sometimes in the day to day there are little disappointments, stresses and frustrations that are nothing to speak of, really, but have a way of making a person feel out of sorts. Slightly sad, and at the same time realizing that a body should be thankful that these little things are all we have to contend with. Yet, even realizing there's much worse that could be wrong, still not able to shake the mood.

But curling up with a freshly washed boy at each shoulder, the faint smell of soap coming off damp hair mixing with the mint of toothpaste still in the air and combining with fragrance of the pages of a new book, everything seems fall into line. The swirling stops and the flakes suspend in the air to allow you to duck under and step out of time for a moment. There is nothing but this page and the next till the chapter finishes and your realize it's getting late.

And you feel like the begging for 'one more chapter, please' means that if nothing else, at least you did one thing right today.

Bringing Geeky Back

2007-06-10T20:49:00.000-07:00

Ok, it's been a while since I totally geeked out, so tonight, on the eve of one of the Mac tribe's high holidays, I issue a warning. Tomorrow afternoon expect a very geeked-out post.

The butterfly's are starting. Getting all a-twitter on what Uncle Steve, aka Santa Clause of Cupertino, will bring to the digital landscape.

For the uninitiated, tomorrow at 12:00 CST (where I'm at) is the Apple Keynote at WWDC--the world wide developer's conference. This has been historically where some of the heaviest stuff has been dropped over the past years, so I'm very much looking forward to seeing what will happen. As is half of the Internet. The other half, I think, are too busy texting their myspace buddies.

I'll be taking an extra long lunch break and trying to find the sites that are text messaging play by play to the web from the Keynote floor. Trying to find one that isn't crashing from all the people trying to get on at the same time.

I hope I can sleep tonight.

Update: I'm at a computer terminal right now watching the live blog of the keynote at http://www.macrumorslive.com/ ---it's very cool, they've got photos they are casting as well as the text so you can kind of see the presentation of new features on screen. They are previewing all the new fetures of OS X Leopard coming in October. It's going to be a totally different world when this stuff hits. You have got to watch the video of this to get the full impact. It'll probably be posted later.

Later Update: Ok, so the sound of one hand clapping is all the excitement after the Keynote. It had sort of that situation comedy flashback clip show feel to it. It was more just a rehash of stuff we've heard a lot before really. It kind of felt like they were treading water so not to take any of the focus away from the iPhone release in a couple weeks. Good call, I suppose. This is probably the most anticipated release since the original Macintosh. All the other revolutions they've started snuck up on people, but because they had to let the cat out of the bag when the filed with the FCC, they chose to pre-announce it rather than let the thunder dissipate. However, that left people with 6 months or so to salivate. With this much expectation, the pressure is worse than when the new Star Wars films released. And we saw what happened there. If this thing doesn't deliver, the critics will have a field day tearing this thing apart. They've been waiting for the chink in the armor of the all things iPod maker, and if they find one, they'll swarm like killer bees.

The carnage (either the iPhone gutting the cell phone industry or the haters destroying the iPhone) begins June 29th.

Less of me

2007-06-08T14:46:00.000-07:00

We went again to see Dr. Connie this last Thursday, the Bear and I.

She's the behavioral psychologist who's helping us get our footing again. The wife and I originally went to Dr. Connie intending to get insight and direction on what we should do for the two youngest boys, but more and more it seems like the focus is on training the parents in the way that they should go, in the belief that then the children will follow.

There's a certain rationale there, I suppose. If the parents can do it 24/7 with the kid, that's more effective than having a doc do it for an hour a week.

My mother and I had a discussion about the nature of all these instructions, and when I say them out loud, they seem to simple to be useful. There is no outwardly apparent moment of understanding, and to read them on paper, they all seem to be things I felt I was doing all along--encouragement, praise, time-outs, touch. But they get specific. And picky. And arguments could be made that other methods may work just as well--that it doesn't have to be this rigid, so-sure-of-itself approach. I mean, look at my older two. I seemed to do ok with them without professional help.

But at the end of the day, we are seeing results there I just can argue with. Ones for which we've been looking for a very long time.

I do wrestle inside, though, with something I haven't been able put my finger on. But may have finally figured it out.

A while back I tried to save the world by taking in a young girl. That didn't go so well, and I went into a sort of depression over something when it was over. I was worried about the fate of this young girl I had come to care for, of course. But perhaps I was a bit in morning for myself, as well. There were unspoken things I held inside me for a long time that I felt gave me value in the world. But when put up against something like the needs of this girls, were completely insufficient. So that understanding of myself had to die, and I had to try and figure out who I was again.

Before that, I had a career identity that I devoted years of my life and mental energy toward in the theater, which, in the end, became a burden to heavy to carry, and so that also had to be purged.

Now again, here I am. Each time I feel that I have had my entire self stripped away, I find one more layer. The peeling begins again, tearing, and the pain is sharp.

This time I was the image of myself as natural father. I couldn't articulate what lead to "my successes", but I was happy that dumb luck had lead me to some sort of aptitude that served me well, and served my kids well.

And yet now I find myself sitting on the floor of this clinic, while I learn to play with my boy from scratch. Unlearning everything I thought I knew, and replacing it with. . . what?

Nothing.

This new approach pulls the focus off of me, makes me less in the equation and strives to put the focus on the behavior of the little man, because, after all, that is what we're wanting to shape and channel here, isn't it?

Not that I've ever wanted all the attention on me. I’ve never been one to seek the spotlight for it’s own sake. In fact, when I was doing mostly tech, if a show was well received and any aspect of my contribution played into the success, I was very happy to stand back and let it reflect well on the director or actors in the show. I was much more comfortable in the background. Let my work speak for itself.

This made my wife crazy. On several occasions she has pressed on me to go forward to self promote in these kind of circumstances. She felt I was due for all my hard work. I could never bring myself to do it.

If ever there was an occasion where I was the performer or director and people came forward to thank me for the evenings event, I did my best to be gracious while inside fighting the urge to flee.

But even so, I struggle. Not to feel like less. I feel like I bring nothing. Just a body, and a touch, and a smile, and an encouraging word. What makes me distinct in providing those things? All this stripping away has me feeling a bit diminished. If someone were to walk up to me off the street and ask me who I am, I’m not sure I’d have much to tell them any more. Nothing I think that could hold their interest, at any rate.

But to these two little men living in my house, I am their universe at the moment. So I must make sure my spiral arms turn in such a way that the gravity I create keeps their feet firmly planted, so that the first step of their thousand mile journey can find solid purchase.

I must decrease, so that they can increase. The seed must die so the tree can grow.

I love these little boys so much that I will do this, because it's like spring rain to them. They thrive under it.

It's not about me, it's about them.

Then perhaps years from now, maybe I can discover myself again in time to be exciting for my grandkids. And if my parents are any indication, it's going to be quite a ride. They are in Arkansas at a National Miata owners convention, tooling around in a little red sports car. So James Dean.

(But hopefully not to much like James Dean--I need them around).

Update: At lunch today my fortune was: "This year your highest priority will be your family."

woah

I'm not dead yet. . .

2007-06-01T05:21:00.001-07:00

Waiting for Smore time!
Originally uploaded by CyberJazzDaddy.

So summer comes. And with it, expectations of free time and relaxation. Can’t say why we have these expectations because it never works out that way. I imagine it’s some toxic combination of amnesia and optimism.

Free time always seems to become more busy than the dictated schedule of work or school. Closer examination of this phenomenon has given me a passing appreciation of things like golf and fishing. Activities I could never understand the attraction for, and especially their televised versions. But with the surging rush of time moving forward ever faster, I can see how entertaining oneself with some activities that lapse into utter boredom can give the sensation of slowing things down a bit, making things last a bit longer. Allow one to catch one’s breath.

But here we are, none the less. In the part of the year that seems like a reward for sticking it out through the winter, just like the coolness of Fall will be like an apology for the fact that it’s coming again. But in the lingering evenings of small town summers, we breath deep, close our eyes and try to hold the kindness of these moments frozen in our lungs for as long as we can, before we have to release it as a memory we breathe out and gift back to the universe.

In days like these we small town folk sometimes take walks with our wives in the dusky hours after the kids are in bed. With our competent teen daughters on the sofa in front of a favorite T.V. show (and our cell phone in our pocket in case the other kids wake and revolt), we move down the porch steps and out into the evening air.

As we walk, we pass many who’ve had the same idea. So many at times it’s as if we’re on an invisible carnival causeway (but without the barkers yelling at you and without the faint tint of vomit smell in the air). We nod hello and smile to those we pass, picking up our conversations as soon as we’re out of earshot again.

Sometimes we give our wives back yard fire pits for Mother’s day. The fire pits they fell in love with when we borrowed one for the daughter’s 16th birthday party last October. And sometimes our wives are so excited when they see you carrying it around the house to the back yard that they come bursting out the back door, leaping at you and wrapping herself around you, letting you know that this time, you chose wisely.

After getting it put together, we get the pieces of tree limbs we’ve been chopping and saving up for just such an occasion since last fall, and make a small, enclosed fire. We gather the family and, prepared with graham crackers, marshmallows, chocolate bars and sticks, engage the obligatory fireside activity with cheery little faces and the comforting smell of burning wood.

Later we have the gutter repaired that this now burning limb took out when it crashed down during a fitful windstorm weeks before. Inside we’ve hung blinds to shut out the yard lights springing up around the neighborhood that is exacerbating our wife’s insomnia.

We watch the changes the new owners of the house next door make. The house so recently owned by the little old lady we knew since our arrival. Since her passing, we knew that, of course, this house would change hands and alterations would come. But it still produces mixed emotions.

Nice Hispanic gentlemen are renting it now. We’ve nodded cordial hellos to then in passing. They seem nice. We haven’t met them in a meaningful way yet though. They wake up early and are off to work, and come back late, and stay inside a great deal. We hope that soon we’ll be able to make introductions.

We watch as our red headed sons ransack our garages and use our tools without permission to take several old broken bikes and Frankenstein them into a new useful vehicle of summer freedom. We later hear how this first creation blew a tire coming over a curb and bent the rim.

Undaunted he rises up again, and with the permission of his friend’s parents, makes a second attempt at a creation using the scrap-cycles in their garage. This one also suffers an ill fated demise as the back axel locks up beyond repair mid trip somewhere.

It’s at this point we realize, with a touch of shame, that we are now compelled by paternal duty to buy him a new bike that will not dash his plans and hopes at every turn. And so we do. He is so pleased, that on several occasions, even after the original beaming hugs of appreciation, he still thanks us before snuggling down to sleep, still vibrating with the days excitement of his new independent journeys. His too long red locks seem always windblown now from his constant motion.

He is also pleased at the frequency this transport allows him to visit with the new little cutie that he has taken an affection for.

Sometimes, we also have to get a little extra help with our younger two. We see a professional and get tips that we originally scoff at, but when we implement are like magic beans tossed at first aside but which erupt with a vibrant new growth that we didn’t think was possible.

As per instruction, we take extra, specially structured play time with each of the boys each day, and they respond. For our 9 year olds it looks like simply playing ball before school everyday. But like a miracle, the rides to the last days of school transform. A short trip that was once a dark scribble because of all the nagging and scolding that it took to get us to the car.

A short trip that more often ended in a huffy little scuff up to the school, head low, shoulders high, and not even a look back. Suddenly, he’s singing during the ride, and looking around with bright eyes. And when I ask him what he’s singing, he sings out loud and strong the verses he’s just made up. On another day, once the car is stopped he pops up with a unsolicited hug and kiss and then skips off, throwing a smile and a wave back as he goes.

With our youngest we participate in a battery of friendly tests, that to him feel like play. But we are actually participating in an evaluation to determine recommendations for school in the fall. They determine what we knew, that he is developmentally delayed, but because of his progress with the new help we’re getting, they don’t feel he should be classified as autistic any longer.

He’ll participate in a pre-readiness class this summer, and then in August we’ll re-assess what extra classroom helps he’ll need for the Fall. He smiles and charms everyone he interacts with. We look at him and are charmed too, that is, of course, until he becomes Godzilla again coming in for the attack and signaling that the wrestling on the floor must begin.

At times, we even hold our daughters, our grown daughters, as their eyes glisten with the disappointment of a boy who has graduated and now breaks promises to call or visit because he has gotten distracted and gone off with his guy friends. We hold her, too, because she is worried about what the fall will bring when he goes off to college. She is wise and understands much, but the heart has to walk each step of the journey on it’s own, and understanding often doesn’t help. But the boy is kind and gentle and they talk much. He doesn’t want to see her hurt and is good with an apology (and a special ice cream outing).

He’s a good kid, and he is good for her, and to her. We father’s comment to our daughters on how it’s best to learn to have these talks about misunderstandings now, because she’ll be having them for the rest of her life. Her parents still do.

We do all this, and it isn’t even June yet. We breathe in another deep breath and hold it . . .hold it. . .trying not to let it slip away. . .

Picture Proof!

2007-05-26T19:55:00.001-07:00

My wife opposite Tony Hale
Originally uploaded by CyberJazzDaddy.

My wife was in a show I wrote and directed for my final project in Grad School playing opposite Tony Hale. The show was an adaptation of a legend commonly known as The Clown of God. And yes, it's that Tony Hale---one you may know from Arrested Development where he played "Buster" and recently was in Stranger than fiction with Will Ferrell.

Checking IMDB he's keeping busy. He's on Andy Barker P.I. as a re-occurring character and he's in 6 films coming out. Go Tony.

(I bet he wouldn't remember me if I walked up and shook his hand. He seems like he's still a nice guy though.)

2007-05-18T12:13:00.000-07:00

My daughter came in as I was brushing my teeth this morning and said that when she told her boy that Thursday is a good night for her because it's Doctor Who night, he teased her.

"Oooooh, Doctor Who----take me with you Doctor Who."

He chuckled and she gave him a sock in the arm. He's a good kid that just isn't totally in touch with his inner geek. He's a big Star Wars fan, so we know it's in there, he just has to dig a little deeper. I gave her the best fatherly advice I could.

"If he starts to do that again just tell him, Excuse Me! But my fictional character crush is on Jack Sparrow, thank you very much!"

The from the other room where my wife was just waking up, she called out to us;

"Yeah, tell him it's your mother who has a crush on Doctor Who!"

Yes, this is us.

I like us.

Hard Day's Night

2007-05-17T13:22:00.000-07:00

Today is the first day of High School lonely for my Kitten.

Yesterday was the last day of school for her boy. Now he'll graduate on Saturday and move on into the big wide world. He's a bit shaken himself. The world is very big. How does one know which way to go when structured rights and wrongs and quantitative scales of success have been removed, leaving a vacuum of "how do I know what to do and how I'm doing"?

She's cried in anticipation of this coming day, calling her father at work just to hear his voice in the hopes it would steady her nerves a bit. She's cried in the shower so no one would see. But her mother still knows the signs.

I drover her to school today. The boy wasn't picking her up since he didn't need to be at school. I could tell she felt him not there.

And I know she'll feel his absence in the halls between classes. When he's not there to share lunch. When she's sitting trying to listen to her teachers, knowing he's not even in the building. And when the 3 0'clock bell rings and the end of the day smile isn't there that says we can finally be together again while I drive you home, she'll feel it.

I did, so many years ago.

It's funny how my daughter's life parallels mine in so many ways. My best friend in High School (later to be her mother!) and my girlfriend at the time both graduated a year ahead of me. I felt all the things that my Kitten is feeling, and then some.

It all speaks of his impending departure at the end of summer, when he goes off to college. She'll feel it in the fall when he's far away and she has to go back get used to the new normal of High School that will never quite be the same. But she'll make it.

And oddly enough, Kitten's boy is going off to the same college that my wife-to-be went to the fall after she graduated. And interesting to note, it's the branch of state Uni that is in the town where my brother lives 3 hrs to the west.

My daughter and the boy sat on the curb later last night, eventually laying back onto the grass to look up at the stars and listen to the breeze and try not to think about everything.

My mom has promised that in the fall, anytime grandma and grandpa take a trip to see my brother, Kitten is invited to go with them so she can visit her man.

In my life of changing jobs and moving and teaching and chaperoning, it feels that more and more of life is about having to say good-buy. Hello always seems to hide a good-bye. After leaving public education years ago, where you can count on seeing 90% of your acquaintances year after year, more or less, I have just never felt entirely prepared for wave after wave of separations that life brings.

Unlike my experience, however, she'll be visiting the person that she's been emailing, and chatting with, and myspacing, and videochatting with and calling on skype, and texting, and blogging to. . . .

I'm not quite sure how they'll really be able to tell they they're actually apart.

The day the music (almost) died

2007-05-15T07:46:00.000-07:00

IF you listen to streaming music on the Internet, You need to take part in this.

Today was to be that day that all went silent as Corporate Greed Insanity bankrupt all the people trying to help them by bringing you the music you like that they produce. Apparently the ties are cutting off blood flow to the brain. Someone in the government stepped in and gave a reprieve till July---but we're not out of the woods yet. C'mon--join the revolution.

Make a difference. Save Net Radio.

Yep

2007-05-14T19:37:00.001-07:00

Yep
Originally uploaded by CyberJazzDaddy.

That about sums up my Jr. High dating career.

New Music Tues---Neon Horse

2007-05-10T01:17:00.001-07:00

I haven't done this in a while.

These guys are my newest find. I love finding new bands I really click with. Their CD came out on Tues---which is when I clicked on 'post to blog' on YouTube. They came back with a cheery "This will appear on your blog shortly". In this case 'shortly' meant two days later. Sigh. Gotta love Web 2.0.

In case I gave the impression with the last post made it seem that my musical tastes were softening with references to Leigh Nash, this should set the record straight again. This is another band my brother won't understand my attraction too. ^-^

Ok, this is really making me crazy. YouTube and Blogger aren't playing nice together, obviously. If there is no video to click on above, you can find it here. Sheesh.

Coming up for air

2007-05-08T15:40:00.000-07:00

Whew.

So then, here I am. On the other side of a wild ride that started last . . . say, October.

My daughter's sweet 16 part, then a play, then anniversaries and my birthday, the holidays, New Years, a birthday for my youngest, my wifes big 40th birthday party, another play, the annual basketball tourney video, first prom, ---not to mention visits with schools and psychologists getting my youngest prepared to start going to school in the fall with his special needs---followed by a couple of weeks to try and collect the fall out that was pushed aside as a result of all this.

If God, the Universe and everything were consipiring with my wife to get me looking forward to the simplicity of doing yard work, all these months heavy programing may have just done the trick. She'll be glad to hear that. She already has a list.

But apparently my busy-ness and my constant mental preoccupation with what needs to get done has earned me the reputation of being a person who doesn't stop to smell the roses. Or even notice that there are roses there, for that matter.

For the record, I do.

I just don't talk about it much. Its like to comment or draw attention to what is stirring me will somehow deminish the moment. Listening to remixes of Leigh Nash on my iPod put me in the mood for remembering. Her music feels like it’s made of the parts of a day that still have optimism in it.

Just before dawn
Just as dawn breaks
When arriving in the morning where every one feels so polished to present themselves for the day, all perfume and candy coffee
A sunny noon in the shade of a tree
3:00 when the bell rings
That hour between work and a night out where you're getting ready and fill with anticipation
Dusk
Sunset on a swing
When the first stars come out
Deep in the night with the moonlight on the garden and the lawn

Or perhaps:
A cool fall hand out the window drive
The first open window drive in the spring
During a silent snowfall
A clear night on summer break laying on the warm hood of a car to just look at the stars away from city lights
When the wind pushes in the first sent of a coming summer rain

The last hum of summer heat in the eve after the sun slips away

A wood fire after dark

I do notice. I do. Just read my blog.

Ready, Set, Prom

2007-04-28T18:03:00.001-07:00

The Up-do made a reality
Originally uploaded by CyberJazzDaddy.

Yes, it's true. She's off being a princess for a night. She's been so looking forward to this for months. Reminding me of the "days till" countdown every day for the past six weeks. And now it's here.

I love living in the Internet age. I took photos before she left, and then put them on my computer and sent them to a photo processor, bought prints and frames, set them up in her room and took one to her grandparents as a surprise, uploaded them to flickr and blogged one----all before they would have even finished dinner!

What a world.

Twitter Nation

2007-04-10T16:48:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed a new blue badge in my side bar.

That's my Twitter badge.

Twitter is the latest Internet 2.0 craze. First there was Blogger, then Flickr, then Podcasting, then MySpace, then YouTube. . .and now it's Twitter. As you can see with all the 'er' endings on Internet services, the Internet is becoming a verb. I like that. It's not like T.V. in which you are passive and just let it wash over you. You are active. You are social. The Internet just removes those nasty inconveniences like time and space.

Twitter gives you the ability to put a little one sentence post out there, and follow other people's one sentence posts. On the net, by email, on your phone. Whatever. Most people just give a little note about what they are doing at that particular moment. Consequently, some have labeled this victim assisted automated cyber-stalking.

Others, more hospitable to the service have described it as really slow chat. It must be fairly addictive though, because it's only a few months old, but already it's been blocked at work---and they only do that with sites whose company wide visits throw up a productivity impact red flag. Very Interesting.

I like to think of it as micro-posting. I'm using it to try and keep it from feeling like I've abandoned my little corner of the web when life gets busy. I may not have time for a complete post, but I can chuck a sentence up once or twice a day.

So if I seem kind of quiet over here, look for the Twitter badge. I'm probably tweeting at you from over there. :-)

It begins

2007-04-06T06:29:00.001-07:00

It begins
Originally uploaded by CyberJazzDaddy.

A milestone for a young boy on his way to world domination. . .the day he realizes he's finally taller than his mother!

2007-04-04T15:31:00.000-07:00

So, the other day I spent the entire night running from the mafia.

Or rather not running from them.

I had a dream that a high school friend of mine (who wasn't at the last reunion, oddly enough) came to the reunion and was sad to inform me that I had infracted upon some technicality in the mafia code, and so he regrettably was going to have to kill me execution style. But because he liked me, he gave me a month to get my affairs in order.

I was devastated to hear this, of course. And my wife was deeply distressed that I was just going to let it happen, without running or fighting or reporting it to someone to get help or something. I begged her to understand that it was coming for me, no matter what, and if I resisted in anyway, they would torture me to death rather than just executing me with a shot to the head.

I woke up with a start, gasping, sucking in the reality of the room even before I had consciously realized that it had all been just a dream. Relief flowed through me like a drug.

This may be my punishment for being a movie snob, I think (see last post).

My daughter goes to see the new Will Ferrel movie--I rent Munich and watch it at work during my lunch hour on a portable DVD player over several days. Then I criticize. It's as if my subconscious was shaking it’s head at me for being so condescending as to feel like an ethnocentric father whose daughter was dating outside of our race.

Like it was saying, “Hmmm, I bet she’s not shivering in her sheets after having dreams about ICE SKATERS.”

I went and rented a copy of “Best of Saturday Night Live: Will Ferrell” on DVD. In an interview with Ferrell they played a clip from his satire of Bush’s Axis of Evil speech, and I remember accidentally catching that late one Saturday night and finding it kind of funny. So I thought, I just need to give it a chance. I popped in the DVD last night and. . . nothing. I was kind of chuckling because I wanted it to be funny, but really, it wasn't hitting me in the sweet spot. And this was the BEST STUFF, and still, it was totally missing the mark for me. No hope. (They didn't even have the Axis of Evil speech on there!)

I really didn't intend to be a cinema version of Jack Black in High Fidelity. But as you can see, somehow a variation of that happened (with even my metaphors being hip movie references).

But I should at least get some points for restraining myself and not grounding her for a week from all non-subtitled movies.

This morning, a change. She came into the bathroom and asked me if a Tusken Raider (from Star Wars) could be a Jedi. I don't know if she was just throwing me a bone or what, but I spent a few moments guiding her thoughts on the subject.

In any case, now things are feeling a little better.

What did I do wrong. . .

2007-04-02T07:57:00.000-07:00

My daughter went to see "Blades of Glory" yesterday.

And she liked it.

How is that possible? MY daughter.

Then I had a fleeting hope that she was simply doing an April Fools on dear old daddy. Cheeky girl.

Alas, she still liked it this morning.

I feel I've failed as a parent. I should have never let her listen to N*Sync when she was little.

Can methadone treatments be far behind? It's a slippery slope, you know.

From Tumblr

2007-03-22T16:04:00.000-07:00

Here's a something that spilled out of my brain onto Tumblr that I thought kind of belonged over here:

March 19, 2007

Running O' the Green

Well, I survived St. Patty's day.

At our house it's an observed holiday of a sort, but not because of the Irish connection, even though my side of the family does bring the Irish.

Even though we're Christian we're not celebrating any religious aspect associated with any saint.
Even though we wear green, it's not about the green.

At our house it's pretty much entirely about. . . Pinch Avoidance.

The kids slink out of their bedrooms dressed in green, but not in a festive way. More out of the same spirit that a paintball warrior will wear body armor for protection.

Suddenly, as I'm brushing my teeth I feel a sharp little pain in my left buttock. I turn around to see a grinning little 8 year old face, filled with the glee that only comes from drawing first blood.

It's on.

Something new. . .

2007-03-16T16:39:00.000-07:00

I'm trying a tumble-log in addition to my blogging.

A tumble log is a new style of informal blogging. Shorter bursts of thought. Simpler than a full on blog.

I'm hoping I can use this to let people know I'm still alive when I can't post here like I want to.

It's kind of like when I was writing in my journal. With the big blog here, I always want to sit down and so some real writing. Mainly about dad stuff or some story or thought or something. Sometimes that stymies me.

So the tumble-log is like a spiral notebook. Let's me be a little more off the cuff, and perhaps off topic. I'll be putting stuff there that's where my mind is. Maybe something that irritates me, something I'm contemplating, a movie I watched, a web link, or a brain spasm on something shiny.

Check it out at cyberjazzdaddy.tumblr.com.

Joy of Bears

2007-03-16T16:33:00.000-07:00

My daughter went to state speech yesterday.

She was, I found out later, the only one from her school's team without family representation at the meet. I totally didn't know that fans were welcome. Nothing was said, and in my day having spectators wasn't a thing that was done for these events. Not unless it was someone else on the team watching you. Certainly not family.

She text messaged me: "If I make finals, will you get me gummi bears!"

I replied: "You're on!"

I guess things didn't go so well. Later that day I got a meek little text message:

"Can I still have bears?"

I arrived home late last night, long after everyone was asleep. I snuck into her room and put the bag of little squishy candy bears on her nightstand and kissed her forehead.

So big, but thankfully, still my little girl.

Climbing back onto the edge of the world

2007-03-08T18:55:00.000-08:00

I'm still here. Honest I am. So long since the last post, I know. I've had to for go posting because I needed to schedule in things. . .you know, like sleep. As over rated as it is, I know.

I have finished up things that took up all my very minimal spare time, just in time to begin new things that will take up all my spare time. But it's good. Here's what's in the news:

We had a wonderful 40th birthday for my wife. That deserves it's own post. But she had a good time with local friends and people she hasn't seen in years. The party's theme: Life begins at 40!

Kitten took 4th in the District Speech competition, meaning that she will now be going to State. She's very excited. A snow storm hit just as the tourney was ending, and driving home in the crazy weather I had the thought, "well, at least she'll die happy". But we made it home safely and celebrated snuggly in our house. She got extra celebration as the storm caused school to be called off the next day.

This was a snow day that Robo was convinced he and his friends caused. He came in the next morning while I was still sleeping and said, "Dad, it worked"! Why they have to get up early on a day they don't have to get up early has always been beyond me. Without opening my eyes I mumbled, "What worked"?

Apparently when it looks like snow is coming, he calls up a little network of friends to begin the snow day ritual. He and one friend put on their P.J.s inside out and flush the toilet twice in a row, while the third friend runs around his house 5 times wearing only his boxers (not entirely sure how this last friend pulled that short straw, but that's his unfortunate wintertime job). This all is supposed to push it over the edge and cause a snow day the next day. Which he triumphantly sees working here.

I would just like to take a moment here to point out that this son is, in fact, doing very well in science. Even though it seems like he could at any moment be the subject of a National Geographic special on primitive tribal superstition.

While we're on the subject of the magic of the universe, I should mention that the little Bear is now potty trained! Somehow the planets aligned and he decided that he would allow himself to be guided by his mother and learn this new skill. Within a week he was waking up dry and staying dry through out the day. And he never really took to the training potty chair---he went right for the full size puppy. I guess he must have figured if he's going to do this thing, he going to do it full on. Needless to say, there was much more rejoicing.

And finally in the home front report, the Leemur's poem I put in the last post was partially quoted in the local newspaper along with a full size color photo! That caused some excitement, too, I must say.

And me, I'm onto finish casting a play I'll be directing. More on that later.

In other news, Omaha is getting a Mini Cooper dealership! We'll have an Apple store and a Mini dealership---we're just becoming one of the happiest places on earth here in the heartland!

Words for the Lemur

2007-02-18T19:08:00.001-08:00

Before the haircut
Originally uploaded by CyberJazzDaddy.

We had parent teacher conferences this past week. The teacher Lemur has this year is so great. She doesn't candy coat his challenges, but she also has a heart determined that there is a way to guide him to the right track, and she's determined to find it.

She showed me on a standardized test that his cognitive skills are above the 90 percentile for kids his age. But he struggles in school. He'll hopefully be able to see a specialist this week that might be able to offer some help and insight. Provided his fever is truly gone and we don't have to reschedule again. I'm prayin' hard.

The teacher showed us a poem he wrote. The assignment was to write about your Special Peace Place. I thought it was beautiful. It also broke my heart. He wrote:

Hushhh. Hushhh.
I hear the wind blowing telling me to hushhh.
I feel the water on my hand.
I hear the butterfly's wings snipping like scissors. I see the fish swimming.
I see a door, but when I open it, it is not the other side of the door, it's a warm house.
I see a turtle walking by and a tree posed as if ti were holding it's hands up saying, "Hooray! Hooray!'
And a bird flying by.
And every time I go there, the autumn breeze is blowing against my face.
I see a squirrel climbing up a tree.
I just wish I could have a friend jump in my mind and sit with me.

Then, when I was going through boxes of mail to weed out what was important and what we could toss, I found a piece of notebook paper that my wife had written on. When I read what she had written, it turned out to be a poem for the Lemur. It must have been penned in a moment of reflection that couldn't be ignored, but then just tucked away.

After reading it, I couldn't help but second the motion.

She wrote:

He is my child. He is my Lemur.
Eyes bright and watching
Sparkling with amusement and mischief and
smiles that play and dance and pull you
into the fun you know will be there
if you just let go and come.

He is Lemur, who's mind is quick
to think past barriers and notice what
most people fail to guess at.

You Decide

2007-02-17T14:50:00.001-08:00

Since my daughter got her hair cut she has been having amazing new adventures in bed-head.

So now the only question that remains is:

Does this have more of a Ziggy Stardust or Rod Stewart feel to it?

Please cast your vote in the comment section below.

Internet people. . . Go!

Guess who turned 5 today!

2007-01-28T20:13:00.001-08:00

Guess who turned 5 today!
Originally uploaded by CyberJazzDaddy.

You know what's better. . .

2007-01-26T06:57:00.000-08:00

You know what's better than finding $20.00 in a winter coat pocket the first time you put it on in the fall. . .coming home late at night and feeling hungry, and then just when you've given up hope that there is anything snacky to eat in the house, you find that stash of homemade chocolate chip cookies you'd forgotten about.

In our house, if dad is going to get any of the treats made earlier in the day, the momma has to stash some of them high and deep somewhere. And so she did several weeks ago. And last night, I was re-united! Sigh. Just another sign that the God of the Universe is big enough to even thow a perk when you least expect it.