Rubbing Elbows with the Semi-Famous

The conference I attended in Palm Springs (the trials and tribulations experienced during my attempt to get home are detailed in previous posts) was kicked off with an Amazing Race-themed contest in which the conference attendees were teamed up according to the color of the name tag lanyards we selected at the time we registered as attendees. We went through a series of worldly stages, themed for various countries, in which we had to complete challenges for points; and, at the end, those points were tallied to determine the winners.

Anyway, awaiting us at the end of the challenge was the Amazing Race's host, Phil Keoughan. And, of course, we got to have team pictures taken with the man, in all our sweaty, sunbaked glory. Here's my team's photo:

Again, below, I've kind of explained the origin of that stupid hat I'm wearing - and you can see I was not the only subjected to that humiliation.

My favorite part of the experience, though, was that, later that night, we had this lovely dinner party at which Phil was our keynote speaker. He's been the star/host of a bunch of adventure-esque reality TV shows around the world, particularly in his New Zealand homeland. His speech contained a bunch of pictures and video clips from those shows, and a few from the Amazing Race. He told us about a show he filmed that centered on a wedding being held at a nudist colony, in California (I think...maybe it was NZ, I don't remember much due to the sun and the alcohol having fried my brain a bit by that point in the evening), and mentioned that he'd been asked by a colony member to make a plaster mold of his rear-end. He eventually agreed to it, and was given a casting of his own to take home.

When he arrived home, his wife had planned a dinner party to celebrate his return, so he suggested they use the plaster cast of his butt as a serving dish/bowl at the party. Amazingly, his wife agreed, and he noted that they served a salad in it. As I listen to this, I'm sitting like 10 feet from where he's standing, delivering the speech, and I lean over to a tablemate and say - apparently, rather loudly, because, again, the sun and scotch had fuzzed my ability to recognize my voice's volume - "Man, that's what you call a TOSSED SALAD." Sort of in my defense, though, I was a victim of the group's collective laughter dying down as I was trying to make the joke...

Anyway, Phil hears this, and says, "Yes, sir, that's right, that's your line. It gave a whole new meaning to the term "tossed salad." And, the group busted out laughing again.

I had to redeem myself later in the evening, after we'd adjourned the formal activities, and walked over to Phil to congratulate him on the excellent presentation (it was VERY VERY good). In doing so, I commented about his wife, who was also in the audience and sitting at a nearby table. I said, "You know, I'm not sure what I enjoyed more, the content of your speech, or seeing your wife so enrapt with what you were saying. She was really into it, and I could tell, still quite taken by you. Congratulations." He thanked me, we shook hands, and I walked off.

I was told, the next evening, by one of the organizer's employees, that Phil had mentioned my comment to her, and how touching it was. So, it sounds like I'd redeemed myself a bit, anyway. I'm sure the embarrassment of being photoed with him in that damn hat, though, will never subside.

(K)

50 Posts...can you believe it?!?!

In a matter of 135 days we managed to create 50 posts. That's an average of one post per 2.7 days. Woo hoo for us! I think when we embarked on this journey, we never would have imagined that we'd have that many posts. It's turned out to be a lot of fun.

Thanks to Kyle for helping me keep up on this. Thanks to Jackson and Kian for providing us with all the material to use (since this does pretty much revolve around you). And most of all, thanks to all you faithful blog readers. We love to be able to share our story with you. Please feel free to leave comments for us. You can do so anonymously if you don't have a requested account, just leave your name in the comment area so we know how you are.

So, thanks again. Here's to the next 50 posts!

until next time...lc

Retaliation

In response to Kyle's last post, I will now make a more concerted effort to dress the boys in the prissiest, coordinating, uber-preppy outfits as possible. Or, I'll make sure they look absolutely ridiculous. Better yet, maybe I'll purchase some more opposing Big 10 teams apparel for them to wear.

How dare he say something about their outfits! And to deepen the hurt, Jackson made this comment while putting on that specific pullover: Oh yeah, I want to wear the one with the 'M' on it. The 'M' is for mommy and we are doing our plants together. So take that daddy! He'll now wear that pullover out IN PUBLIC (with his critical father in tow) as often as I can remember to have him wear it! Maybe I'll even cut off the sleeves so it's more summer-friendly.

Ugh, I can't wait to dress our kids tomorrow. Bring it on, Daddy!

until next time...lc

OH YEAH! Something I Forgot, About Which I Wanted to Make a Separate Post...

Notice in the post Laura made, below, about Jackson's haircut and planting the tomato and strawberry plants, there are some pictures accompanying it. And, further notice, that in the planting picture's Jack's wearing a freakin' UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN pullover!!!!

Oh man...I nearly had a heart attack seeing that. Being a life-long fan of all Notre Dame-based sports and IU alumnus, I HATE THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN MORE THAN I HATE NEARLY ANYTHING ELSE IN THIS WORLD! When I saw it, I must've just turned pale white and had eyes bigger than saucers, because when I looked at Laura, she looked a me with a, "what on Earth's gotten into you?" look. I pushed down the simmering rage long enough to grunt, "What...is...he...doing...wearing...a...Michigan...pullover?"

She explained that it was a hand-me-down from a co-worker of hers; and, when I was still clearly bristling at this addition to his wardrobe, she had to reassure me that he'd only wear it when he was doing stuff that would get it dirty or otherwise damaged.

That made me feel a little better, but, even now, I feel the fire well up in my brain when I scroll down the list of postings on our blog and see those pictures.

(K)

Religious Dogmatism in 20 Minutes or Less!

It's our normal weekday routine for me to take the boys to their daycare in the morning, and for Laura to pick them up in the afternoon. Most mornings, all 3 of us are fairly brain-dead and don't do much except listen to music (lately, it's typically been the playlist of curse-free music I've compiled from my iPod that Jackson's expressed affinity for when I've played the songs in the past - songs like the aforementioned-in-a-blog-post "New England" by The Modern Lovers) or sometimes some sports talk radio. Occassionally brief conversations occur, but not many like the one that transpired this morning...

As we were exiting 465 to the road that takes us to daycare, Jackson asks, "Dad, who is your mommy and your daddy?"

I replied, "Well, Nana Sally is my mommy, and my daddy's name was Gary; but, he died when I was a little boy, before you were born. Then, Nana Sally lived with and married your Papaw Bob, but now they don't live together anymore."

"Oh. Well, do you get a new mommy when your mommy dies?"

"No, you've pretty much only got one mommy, so when she dies, you're without her."

"Well, God will decide when your mommy's going to die, and when she does, he's going to take her."

"Oh, is that right? OK."

As you may or may not know, I tend to lean toward the atheistic side of the spirituality scale, so these conversations are always a challenge for me, because I don't want to sway our kids one way or another - I'd like for them to learn on their own and ask us for our take on things as they read/hear/understand them. So, the topic shifts a bit to Jackson saying, "You know, one time the other day (which, is his way of saying some time in the past, it's not to be understood as literally the other day), God was feeding a whole bunch of people and they were giving them food from a breadbasket. And, then they looked down, and saw that there was no more food, and they closed the basket. Then, they opened the basket, and there was more food, and they fed everyone."

The story of the Feeding of the 5000. Where he got this, I have NO IDEA. Laura didn't even know the story, and I know it primarily because of the co-opting of the story's name by the band Crass in titling one of my favorite albums of all-time.

He made some other statements about magic, and finally brought Jesus into the discussion - which, is appropriate, because it was actually he that's accredited with conducting the Feeding - then, went the following direction with the conversation:

"Dad, did you know that God is my step-mom?"

"Really? Well, most people that believe in God think of him as kind of the super-boss. Like the boss over everything, including their mommies and daddies."

"Yeah, and he told me that he wanted me to take over and be God. And, I said that I can do that."

"Really, he wants you to be God now? So, when do you start the job?"

"I don't know, but I will."

At this point, we pull into the daycare driveway, and we notice that the squirrel that's been around for a couple of years at daycare is running around the yard with a corn cob in his mouth, so we sit in the car and watch him for a couple of minutes until I decided it was time to head inside. The religious dissertation was tabled for a bit, until, after we were inside and I had played with the boys and some of the other daycare kids for a bit. I was kind of getting ready to leave, after having sat in one of the chairs while playing, and Jackson runs up to give me a final hug and kiss goodbye. While I'm hugging him, he says, "Daddy, you know I told you that God wants me to be God now? Well, he told me that he wants me to be whatever I want to be, and so I said that I just want to be the same ol' Jackson."

To which I replied, "Aw, buddy, that's great. Because the same ol' Jackson is my favorite Jackson of all."

(K)

Who is this kid?

Can you even recognize him? We think this haircut ages him by at least 2 years. After shelling out way too much money for haircuts at that place with the slide, as well as the one with the football on TV, only to know that it'll increase in the near future, I went out and bought a set of clippers this past weekend. Kyle agreed that we could undertake Jackson's haircuts at least two-thirds of the time. Yeah, we may have to go get it shaped up, but for the most part we should be able to take care of things in the comfort of our own home. The above picture was the end result. If you mention the haircut to him he replies, "Mommy cut my hair and she cut my ear off." Now, c'mon. Yes, It's obvious I cut his hair. As far as the ear...it got in my way. I nicked it to the point it bled, but it was no way near the point where the applied band-aid was necessary. When I told him that he didn't need a band-aid, he set out to prove me wrong. Once Sponge-Bob was adhered, all was better. That is until about 6 minutes later it was no longer comfortable and discarded. If you look in the picture above, you'll notice it sticking off his left ear. Speaking of things sticking out, check out those ears! Wow, are they ever set out now!!! No wonder I nicked it.

Here's a shot just before we set off on the adventure. This all went down on the front porch so the remains could be easily discarded.


Check out the look on that face. I don't know if he's more terrified of me cutting his hair, or of his Nana holding him by his neck. Great choice there mother. Like he's going to get away!

My mother and sister came up for the weekend to visit. We had a great time with them. There's nothing like a little shopping to uplift your spirits. Oh, and the pedicures were long overdue and much appreciated. Mom was so relaxed after her pedicure that she ended up taking Kyle back later that evening so she could get a manicure while he got a pedicure. His feet are all ready to sport sandals now. It's not like anyone is checking out his feet, but just in case.

Jackson and Katy painted some pictures while my mother and Kyle were out. Check out the water cup. My father bought one each for Joe, Frank and I when we were little. This cup has to be over 25 years old. Ah, I'm really dating myself here!

Geez Katy, try not to pose so much the next time!

On Sunday morning, Jackson, Mom, Katy and I set out to the Old Farm Market in search of a Petite Blueberry Bush and a "Tomato Cherry" plant for Jackson to grow this summer. We struck out on the Blueberry Bush, and ended up with a strawberry pot and a tomato plant. We didn't get the cherry tomato plant as originally planned, but did purchase a breed called Patio Tomatoes. Since these will specifically be grown in a pot, the name sounded the best. If it were up to Jackson, we'd be growing some Beefsteak tomatoes and Habanero peppers. He had a blast checking out all different varieties of plants and herbs available. He only wanted the pepper plant because of the flames pictured. He wanted to know if they actually had fire on them when they grew. Oh, the innocence!

Our supplies are ready. Ready, set, plant!

He was telling me that the plant had to grow this tall before the tomatoes were able to be picked.


This was a bit more complicated to plant. It was his idea to plant these things, so I guided him along and let him do most of the work.

Last step, Mom, these things need some water! He's using a watering can that belonged to my Grandfather. We miss him dearly. I'm sure he's happy knowing Jackson is learning to grow his own goods with using his watering can.

Only because Jackson has dominated this post, here is a photo of Kian. I was getting Katy's bed ready Saturday evening. She had to sleep downstairs in the game room versus going up to the guest quarters, as she slipped getting into the car Friday night and broke her ankle. Kian was super excited when I prepped the room for her. Yet another thing to play on. As soon as I tossed the pillow down, he looked up and said, "Where my blankie Mom." What a cutie! He loves to lay / play in a big-kid bed. He hasn't fussed much about being in his crib, so we're not forcing the issue. We'll move him out when he shows those signs. Until then, sleep baby, sleep.

Until next time...lc

Lovely, But the Cause of So Much Discomfort and Misery...

Seriously, I love our tree, and just the way Bradford Pears look, in general, when they're blooming. But, the way they gang up on me here in my neighborhood, it kills my allergies. I seriously feel like I've had a piece of napalm-soaked steel wool shoved up my nose, and then down my throat. Ugh.

(K)

Because I'm Being an Unnecessary Insomniac, Here are Some Updated Pictures

Fresh off the camera...get 'em while they're...ummm...hot???

Jackson, Kian and I playing with a little souvenir I brought back from Palm Springs. It was a "token of completion" received by my team when we finished the "Scotland" stage in our faux-Amazing Race event at the convention I attended. The challenge was to dribble an over sized beach ball, soccer (football for any non-Americans reading this)-style through a slalom course of cones, then run to a table, raise a glass and say, "cheers," then throw a dart at a dartboard. Being the lone person of Scottish descent in the group, I got the honors of taking this bad boy with me.

Speaking of The Fair-Skinned Isles, notice the scorching I got from the desert sun? Yeah, they put free tubes of sunscreen in the hotel rooms for a REASON, dummy!!!






We have some more pictures of the boys playing in their living room tent we built with them last weekend, but I'm unsure whether or not Laura has plans to create a post with those pictures, so I'm going to not post them for now. However, I'll close with this picture of the boys being their typical clownie selves, stuffing themselves and a Glo-Worm into an emptied diaper box.




(K)

I Don't Recall Punctuation Being So Much Fun!

Read the sentence that titles this post. Now, when you read it (either aloud, or in your mind) shout the word FUN.

That's what Jackson's come to understand the exclamation mark does to a sentence and/or word. Obviously, he's grammatically correct in doing this - albeit, a little over-enthusiastic. It's to the point that, when he's reading his little early-stage readers to me at bedtime - as Laura's getting Kian to sleep in the living room - I've had to make sure the door to the boys' bedroom is shut as he and I read in there. Otherwise, it's altogether likely he'd startle Kian and break him of his bedtime routine.

I also find myself mentally, and somewhat physically, bracing myself for his impending crescendo when a sentence ends with an exclamation mark. I can't wait for the first time he's asked to read something in a formal school setting, and he scares the crap out of his teacher and/or classmates. Ha ha ha ha...I love that little dude.

(K)

I Sometimes Struggle With the Nuances in Difference Between Irony and Simple (but, sometimes bizarre) Coincidence

We had such an exciting Saturday night - we spent the late afternoon recovering from naps (Laura and the boys did that, anyway), doing some work helping a team prep for trial (my activities), finalizing a grocery list, getting out to our favorite Mexican restaurant, and - the family activity that makes all the young/single/less-domesticated set SO envious of the family-types - WENT GROCERY SHOPPING.

It was wonderful, and that's not the least bit laced with sarcasm. When compared to the chaos and disruption I've endured the past week, coupled with Laura's sole-practitionering of the boys, it was so welcomed to just spend time as a family doing family things and running around together.

We did the bulk of our shopping tonight at the Meijer in Avon, our typical haunt for 90% of our grocery needs. After approximately an hour of dodging inconsiderate douchelords parking where they shouldn't park, cutting you off in the aisles, and traipsing about like they were the only pixies in fairyland, we had a pretty uplifting moment experiencing the kinder, more considerate side of human nature. As Laura was digging out coupons and interacting with the check-out guy, I held Kian and maneuvered our cart to the side of the check-out lane (as an aside here, the girl doing the bagging badgered us for our YET UNEMPTIED CARTS no less than 4 times, before she'd even filled a single grocery bag with our items!!! GAAAAAHHH!!!). Of course, I still haven't learned the lesson that our typical check-out lane at Meijer is directly in front of the store's penny ponies, and game machines; and, accordingly, I need to bring in at least a quarter's worth of pennies to satiate the boys' need for mechanical equestrianism. So, right on que, Kian starts reaching for the ponies and saying, "Daddy, I horsey I horseeeeeyyyyyyyy!!!!" And, of course, Daddy has to respond, "Sorry, Kian, I didn't bring in change with me."

Well, one of the Meijer cashier supervisors/staff members oversees all this and walks by me and says, "Sir, I think I have a penny I can give you, hang on."

She walks into the front office, and emerges holding a penny in her hand, and I'm able to put Kian on the horse. The whole time he's riding, I'm bouncing trying to psycho-kinetically get the ride over with, because Jackson's adequately distracted by Laura and her check-out procedure.

So, anyway, while I wasn't fully successful in avoiding Jackson's realization his brother was riding when he wasn't, the situation was quickly and easily defused, and we left the store. Our final stop of the night was to be at Sam's Club, a bit east on Rockville Road, just inside 465. The drive over there is what somewhat inspired this posts' title.

As you approach Sam's from the west, you can make the initial entrance to the store's parking lot on a quick merge into a turn lane that evolves from an exit ramp from northbound 465. As we duck into that lane, I look up and see the funeral home that's been in business there for, oh, I'd say at least 10 years now - maybe more, maybe less. I say to Laura, "Man, every time I see that place, I start to feel bad for people that are new to the area, or for some other reason, unfamiliar with this area's history."

"Why?" Laura asks.

I reply, "Well, that building in which the funeral home now operates used to be a Frisch's Big Boy when it was initially built. Then, it closed down, sat vacant for a bit, then the funeral home opened up. Wouldn't you be pissed if you died, and your relatives set up your funeral in that place, and you find out it used to be a Big Boy?"

She just laughed and shook her head in her normal, "You're a damned fool," way.

But really, think about it. If you died, and your family/friends/loved ones arranged your final hurrah in a building that used to be home to greasy burgers, fries, and questionable salad bar content, wouldn't you be slightly upset? Particularly if you didn't learn of the cosmic clowning you were enduring until you were beyond, in the ethereal plane? Seriously, I'd come back to haunt some people with the quickness! I'd spook them with some stuff like, "Did you ask for a combo meal with my headstone and casket, you jerks!?!?!?!"

Ha ha ha...anyway, I don't know if either irony or coincidence are the correct terms for that situation. More likely, it should just be chalked up to the fact that I'm a damned fool most of the time. Meh.

(K)

Welcome Home Daddy!

He's home...he's home...he's home! Now get to work. Kyle arrived home through the night, only to get up to go to work today. I don't know that he had much choice, but word on the street is that he doesn't have to put in a full day. We'll see if he actually leaves early. We all know how that goes.

Jackson made the sign originally to hold when we went to the airport to pick Kyle up. Since we didn't get the opportunity, we put it on the front door for Daddy to find upon arriving home.



Now wouldn't that make you smile? I can't wait until we can all sit down at the dinner table tonight. I miss our nightly dinners as a family. I know, it's only been 6 days, but still. We love to eat together as a family. That's when we get a lot of subject material to share with you here.

until next time...lc

We're "Sending out an S.O.S."

WE WANT OUR DADDY HOME NOW!!!

Not only did he had to leave us to begin with, he's had to stay away a little longer than expected (see posts below). I know the boys are missing him terribly and so am I. I hate to wish the day away, but we just want our hugs and kisses already. (A little relief from the nite-time duties would be nice too!) I was so looking forward to taking the boys to pick up Kyle, but I guess we'll have to wait for another trip to do so. Oh well, at least he's on his way. (According to Southwest he is.)

I know this trip has been just as hard on him as it has been on us back on the homefront. I don't remember Jackson missing his Daddy when he was Kian's age, but poor Kian. He just walks around with his little hands up in the air muttering, "Where Daddy at?" Every now and then driving in the car, or at home we'll hear repeatedly, "I want Daddy." I just look at him and remind him that we all want him home.

Geez, I can't even write this without getting all misty-eyed. Why has it been so hard this time around? We've known about this trip for many months now. I wish things were different. I know it's necessary for his career, but... UGH.

Come on 11:10pm.

until next time...lc

Johnny Rotten Once Said, "Ever Get the Feeling You've Been Cheated?"

Well, my buddies at good ol' 'Merican Airlines have grounded another 20% of their fleet today, and guess whose plane was AGAIN within the grounded portion? That's right, yours truly. So, finally, my traveling compadre, Derek, and I were able to work with our department's admin assistant to get a flight booked out of here on Southwest this afternoon, and we'll finally be home at 11PM tonight. That, of course, assumes we get on the plane here, make it all the way up to Chicago first, then get through the last leg to Indy. At this point, if they get me anywhere within a 500 mile radius of Indy, I'll rent a car and drive the remainder. That's what they make Monster Energy drinks, for, I guess.

This has been stressful, no doubt, but thankfully Laura's kept a level head, which has allowed me to keep a much more rational approach in dealing with the chaos. Last night, I'd set up email notification through AA.com so that I'd be notified of the flight status if any changes occurred, or I'd have a status update at least 2 hours before the flight. The cancellation notice came through around 3:45 this morning, and when I awoke at 4:15 and checked my BlackBerry, I felt the gut punch that felt all too familiar to the one I felt yesterday afternoon.

I immediately got on the phone to the re-scheduling line this morning, and endured their hold music, and continual automated apologies for the delay in fielding my call, for over an hour. When I was finally connected to a representative, I remained calm and overly-cordial, even as she insisted there were no flights available on their "ticketing partners'" schedules. Her only recourse was to book us again on an American flight that left tomorrow morning at 9AM. We jumped at that opportunity, because she kept counting down the number of seats available on that plane as the conversation progressed.

Shortly after that transpired, Laura had informed me that Northwest and Southwest both had flights available (Northwest is a ticketing partner with American; however, Derek and I have surmised there are likely contractual limitations on the number of seats they'll leave available in situations like this, particularly when they can likely fully profit off the former American customers who've reached the limits of their patience with the merry-go-round of plane groundings and cancellations), so that's what set into motion the alternative carrier plan. I was a bit panicked because neither the admin assistant nor my boss was responding to my emails or phone calls in which I was pleading for them to book us regardless of the potential cancellation "losses" we'd face with an outright cancellation of our American bookings. Thankfully, though, we all coordinated our efforts, and I finally had a moment of satisfaction in which I quoted Hannibal from the A-Team, saying, "I love it when a plan comes together."

So, to reiterate, I hope that 'Merican goes into Chapter 666 bankruptcy proceedings starting tomorrow, and their executives are hunted down mob-justice style and made to feel some of the same discomforts me, and thousands of other 'Merican customers have felt these past couple of days.

Again, I'm thankful that we were brought to LA by our fellow conventioneers yesterday; I cannot thank those kind folks enough for bringing us out here to an airport where our options for alternative carriers are ten-fold the number of options we had available in Palm Springs. Keep me in your thoughts around 2:30PM Pacific time this afternoon, and send positive vibes to us as we try our hand at the return trip one more (and, hopefully, final) time.

(K)

GAAAAAAAHHHHHH...American Airlines Becomes #1 Airline Carrier in Hell

Seriously, American Airlines can get dead 1000 times over. And, then, a couple of more times, just because.

I'll detail my adventures today at a time when I'm not in desperate need of some serious sleep, and I'm really just being overly cranky because of my jacked-up schedule and being 3 hours removed from my home time zone. However, suffice it to say that if I don't get on a flight back to Indy tomorrow (as I was supposed to do today) someone is going to be the recipient of some heinous wrath.

(K)

P.S. I just noticed this when going to AA.com (not making this an official link, because I wouldn't want anybody to visit that site for any reason EVER) to check in for my flight tomorrow, and here's what I saw:

Quote of the day...

Here's another quote that caught my attention.


"If only we'd stop trying to be happy we could have a pretty good time."
--Edith Wharton, American Author


I like it. Some good advice to live by I suppose. I'm guilty of this, constantly trying to make plans and arrange our schedules to make sure we have a great time doing whatever the plan is. For our first few years together, Kyle's laid-back attitude absolutely drove me nuts. I was convinced he was more lazy than laid-back. I like to have all my ducks lined up whenever possible. I now know that the reverse is true as well. Kyle always seemed frustrated with my never-ending questions as far as planning went. I remember asking him many a times what he wanted to do on the weekends and better yet how he could just sit around and do absolutely nothing. I've personally never been able to do such a thing. A few years ago (I'm pretty sure it was after Jackson was born), Kyle finally admitted that he likes to have a game plan. If I recall correctly, this statement came about on a trip down to Jasper. He was telling me about some of the last minute requests he gets at work and how it bothers him that we can't nail down our holiday plans more than a week in advance. (I love to have everything clarified at least 2-3 weeks so I can plan each and every detail with more thought than ever necessary.) I remember him saying that I rubbed off on him. That was a proud moment.

Maybe opposites really do attract. I think we compliment each other quite nicely.

until next time...lc