Tonight is the last night of August. The air is cooler and, as M pointed out last weekend, the sun falls earlier. I guess I don’t feel autumn is anywhere close until September arrives. I know this doesn’t makes sense, but in my mind a big difference exists between August 31st and September 1st.
This morning I woke just after six, threw on my gear, and drove to the Y. I rode the bike for twenty minutes and lifted weights. After the workout I drove into a coffee shop near work and took in a meeting on a college-specific alumni association that might synergize with some of our recruiting efforts. The sun poured into the windows, but I closed some of the blinds, so we didn’t squint through the meeting. After I arrived at the office I prepped for next week’s leadership courses and caught up on email and the like. I might drive down to the office Sunday morning if the kids hit the church picnic. The church picnic makes me nervous. I don’t like attending, and I don’t think M wants me there either, because I just want to get the hell out of there pretty much as soon as I arrive. I’m not good at sitting on blankets and chatting about bullshit with people I don’t know well. I have promised I’ll start attending church again next week. Maybe I’ll even leave the coatroom and sit in the sanctuary. I’ve been sitting in small dark places in churches since I was seven years old, when ancient and mean-spirited ushers in blue polyester jackets would yell at me about failing to sit in a pew like a normal person. I loved the darkened stairway that led to the unused balcony.
Mary and I considered hitting El Ray for lunch, but I wasn’t in the mood, so I headed north and reached home by one or so. After lunch I worked on that undergrad alumni proposal while the kids were at the beach, then hit the ATM for cash and Papa Murphy’s for pizza. I ate about half of the fucking pizza, but hey, in the past I’d eat 75% of the pizza and finish it off with ice cream, so I’m progressing. I don’t want to starve myself, and I’m slowly improving my habits.
Later the boys played with all their friends in the back field and between the yards. I watched most of the Brewers game, Cleo on my lap, and made a couple of token appearances with the neighbors. M is out there now, drinking. Ten bucks she’s pretty drunk by the time she arrives home.
This has been a good summer. More this weekend. August has also been my most successful journal month since before the dissertation. I wrote about 8,500 words, 15 single-spaced pages, even with a break as the semester started, and I’m on a roll. Off to read some “Consider the Lobster.” Good night.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
I’m slipping a bit, as I’ve almost let a full week pass between journal entries, but I suppose I can blame the first week of the semester for the lapse. I would give the start of the semester a “B”, no pun intended. I’m relearning how to teach, day to day, with a heavy (15 credit hour) load. My students seem responsive except for a somewhat thorny group of freshmen on Monday and Wednesday afternoons. That group is small and divided, at this point, but I have faith they’ll evolve. I’ve been slightly more social these last couple of weeks than I’ve been all summer, as far as my colleagues have continued, but I like disappearing into my office on the far end of the hall. I might as well live in Canada as far as most of the department is concerned. Tomorrow I have a 9AM meeting about some recruiting event. The rest of the morning I will devote to getting as far ahead in my classes as possible.
Despite the fact the Y has closed the gym for the annual gym floor refinishing project, I’m probably working out more than usual. This morning I ran a couple miles. Yesterday I rode the bike at the Y for twenty-four minutes. I’ve also been eating healthier, but I have to lose weight at a more reasonable rate. Over the past week and a half I’ve lost about five pounds, probably too much to maintain, and I’m probably not eating enough. Nobody can sustain that rate. This afternoon I had a couple of tacos, full on beans and all that, to regain some energy. Tomorrow Mary and I might hit El Ray in the afternoon. God bless Mexican food.
A Costco opened down the highway today. I visited after work. I was hot and somewhat agitated, after a long and frustrating afternoon, and Costco didn’t help my situation. That place is huge. I realize I could say I was overwhelmed, and you could probably say I was exaggerating, but I swear I’m not. First off, the parking lot was crowded. Second, a huge crowd had gathered near the front of the store to sign up for a membership. Third, I entered the store with my cart and had no idea where to start. Televisions? School supplies? Beer? What the hell? I maneuvered back to the fruit aisles and picked up some (“some” defined in Costco language as “probably more than I can eat in four months”) strawberries. Then I worked my way through the crowd and snagged huge boxes of yogurt, cereal, oatmeal, diet pepsi (36 cans for seven bucks, the lowest price I’ve ever seen by far) and blue chips (the kind you eat…not sure what to call them).
Social restraint was not present in the store. People gaped in front of displays with no courtesy towards anyone wanting to pass. Others stood in front of the “free sample” tables (of which there were many) and relaxed while I waited for their fat asses to get out of the way. It was kind of like a crisis situation but the crisis was a huge goddamn supermarket opened in our neighborhood and nobody knew how to respond. Did people expect to close at 4PM, never to open again? What the fuck? Is this not Wisconsin, where people say hi to each other and practically fall off the sidewalk to let pedestrians pass? How embarrassing for America. Anyway, I had to negotiate with the checkout guy because my card was messed up, and then I had to pay by debit card because the store only takes American Express. I was going to pay by debit card anyway, but the entire transaction confused me. Afterwards I hit the membership counter, where a guy (I couldn’t blame him, today was the store’s first open day) did something wrong with my membership, causing the women at the printing table to whisper how his behavior was “unacceptable” only to kiss his ass when he checked on the membership progress. I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there. I don’t know if I’ll visit regularly. I suppose some of the big ticket items (e.g. the yogurt, which my kids inhale, was a great deal), but the stress wasn’t worth the trip.
I also got a haircut today. I look retarded.
Ok, off to read some David Foster Wallace. Did I mention I finished “Spook County?” More later. I thought I’d have a hard time sleeping tonight, but my eyes are closing as we speak. Good night.
Despite the fact the Y has closed the gym for the annual gym floor refinishing project, I’m probably working out more than usual. This morning I ran a couple miles. Yesterday I rode the bike at the Y for twenty-four minutes. I’ve also been eating healthier, but I have to lose weight at a more reasonable rate. Over the past week and a half I’ve lost about five pounds, probably too much to maintain, and I’m probably not eating enough. Nobody can sustain that rate. This afternoon I had a couple of tacos, full on beans and all that, to regain some energy. Tomorrow Mary and I might hit El Ray in the afternoon. God bless Mexican food.
A Costco opened down the highway today. I visited after work. I was hot and somewhat agitated, after a long and frustrating afternoon, and Costco didn’t help my situation. That place is huge. I realize I could say I was overwhelmed, and you could probably say I was exaggerating, but I swear I’m not. First off, the parking lot was crowded. Second, a huge crowd had gathered near the front of the store to sign up for a membership. Third, I entered the store with my cart and had no idea where to start. Televisions? School supplies? Beer? What the hell? I maneuvered back to the fruit aisles and picked up some (“some” defined in Costco language as “probably more than I can eat in four months”) strawberries. Then I worked my way through the crowd and snagged huge boxes of yogurt, cereal, oatmeal, diet pepsi (36 cans for seven bucks, the lowest price I’ve ever seen by far) and blue chips (the kind you eat…not sure what to call them).
Social restraint was not present in the store. People gaped in front of displays with no courtesy towards anyone wanting to pass. Others stood in front of the “free sample” tables (of which there were many) and relaxed while I waited for their fat asses to get out of the way. It was kind of like a crisis situation but the crisis was a huge goddamn supermarket opened in our neighborhood and nobody knew how to respond. Did people expect to close at 4PM, never to open again? What the fuck? Is this not Wisconsin, where people say hi to each other and practically fall off the sidewalk to let pedestrians pass? How embarrassing for America. Anyway, I had to negotiate with the checkout guy because my card was messed up, and then I had to pay by debit card because the store only takes American Express. I was going to pay by debit card anyway, but the entire transaction confused me. Afterwards I hit the membership counter, where a guy (I couldn’t blame him, today was the store’s first open day) did something wrong with my membership, causing the women at the printing table to whisper how his behavior was “unacceptable” only to kiss his ass when he checked on the membership progress. I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there. I don’t know if I’ll visit regularly. I suppose some of the big ticket items (e.g. the yogurt, which my kids inhale, was a great deal), but the stress wasn’t worth the trip.
I also got a haircut today. I look retarded.
Ok, off to read some David Foster Wallace. Did I mention I finished “Spook County?” More later. I thought I’d have a hard time sleeping tonight, but my eyes are closing as we speak. Good night.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Sunday morning. I feel like I have been up all day, but we’re still an hour and a half from noon. I’m slightly wired. I’ve already cut the grass, which needed to be cut due to this week’s prodigious rains, but the wet ground meant I ran over the grass more than actually cut the grass. I also wanted to scramble some eggs, but we’re out, so I settled for some unhealthy quesadillas. I’m slowly getting healthier, I think, but I’m remaining careful to avoid trying to become healthy at all once. I’ve tried that strategy before, and it hasn’t worked.
The frantic pre-semester meeting week has passed. I survived with wits intact. In fact, I did a little dance in the hallway Friday because I didn’t have to work on Saturday, traditionally the action research introduction day. Thursday’s all day meetings were ok, I guess, although I think the orientation and initial coursework for the incoming freshman were organized and executed badly. The powers that be wanted me to administer a standardized test on my first fucking day of class. How stupid. I had to lean on the students a bit to remain quiet during the stupid fucking test, but I suppose I now have the behavioral context set for the students still learning how to act like college students.
I fell asleep early Friday night, by eight, and slept until seven Saturday morning. Yesterday T celebrated his birthday with a slew of his friends. I’ll post some pics/Youtube files later. The kids were good, although more than energetic, and M did a good job of providing about half a million water balloons for their entertainment. I met the father of the only kid in the school with a Mohawk. He (the dad) has a shaved head, a colored (white) goatee, and tattoos up and down his arms. We talked about punk rock, etc., and shared some discs. He seems like a nice guy. He also has balls of steel. I can’t imagine how many weird looks he gets in this town. By the way, M nailed his son with a water balloon during the festivities, giving him a fat lip. She’s dangerous!
After the party I walked downtown to check out this new age festival in the park along the lake. Most of the booths were spiritual gemstones or whatever. I found the presence of a Pampered Chef tent, between the drum circle and am aural photography tent, amusing. Those Pampered Chef people are everywhere. I considered buying a singing bowl, but they cost upwards of seventy-five bucks, without the little hammer, so I passed. The singing bowl place was based in Beaver Dam, Wisconsin, too. I’ve been through Beaver Dam. I don’t imagine the singing bowl market is huge in that town. I hope they do net orders. The walk through town was pleasant, though. The rain stopped falling Friday afternoon, and by Saturday morning the sun returned. The feeling of emerging from a dream stuck with me all day, sort of like the first thirty seconds of Eels “The Medication is Wearing Off.”
After I returned home I cleaned, read, and took a bath with William Gibson’s “Spook Country”. The boys played with T’s new toys, esp. some “Heroscape” additions. Two thirteen year old babysitters arrived at 5PM. M and I ate mediocre Mexican food in Brown Deer. We hit Toys R Us, and, brace yourself, bought a couple Christmas presents for N. Their clearance sale, probably designed to empty the shelves for the holiday season, was in full force, and we picked up a couple of cool Matchbox sets. Bow to our astute Christmas present purchasing habits. After Toys R Us we hit Borders, where I bought David Foster Wallace’s “Consider the Lobster” for the plane ride to Italy. Of course, I started reading as soon as I arrived home. After Borders we hit Bayshore, where M bought some clothes at J. Jill. We drove through town a bit before returning home. I dropped off the babysitters. M was pissed because the babysitters “cleaned”, or at least they tried to clean, but the house was already pretty well organized, and the babysitters did little but fuck things up. For example, M had bags ready for the kids’ first day of school, and the babysitters wrenched them under the chairs on the front porch. What the fuck? Also, while the babysitters cleaned the kids watched television. Bad form.
Ok, I’m still wired. Maybe I’ll take out the bike, although I kind of feel like I need some rest. Wired but tired. I don’t like this feeling. More later
The frantic pre-semester meeting week has passed. I survived with wits intact. In fact, I did a little dance in the hallway Friday because I didn’t have to work on Saturday, traditionally the action research introduction day. Thursday’s all day meetings were ok, I guess, although I think the orientation and initial coursework for the incoming freshman were organized and executed badly. The powers that be wanted me to administer a standardized test on my first fucking day of class. How stupid. I had to lean on the students a bit to remain quiet during the stupid fucking test, but I suppose I now have the behavioral context set for the students still learning how to act like college students.
I fell asleep early Friday night, by eight, and slept until seven Saturday morning. Yesterday T celebrated his birthday with a slew of his friends. I’ll post some pics/Youtube files later. The kids were good, although more than energetic, and M did a good job of providing about half a million water balloons for their entertainment. I met the father of the only kid in the school with a Mohawk. He (the dad) has a shaved head, a colored (white) goatee, and tattoos up and down his arms. We talked about punk rock, etc., and shared some discs. He seems like a nice guy. He also has balls of steel. I can’t imagine how many weird looks he gets in this town. By the way, M nailed his son with a water balloon during the festivities, giving him a fat lip. She’s dangerous!
After the party I walked downtown to check out this new age festival in the park along the lake. Most of the booths were spiritual gemstones or whatever. I found the presence of a Pampered Chef tent, between the drum circle and am aural photography tent, amusing. Those Pampered Chef people are everywhere. I considered buying a singing bowl, but they cost upwards of seventy-five bucks, without the little hammer, so I passed. The singing bowl place was based in Beaver Dam, Wisconsin, too. I’ve been through Beaver Dam. I don’t imagine the singing bowl market is huge in that town. I hope they do net orders. The walk through town was pleasant, though. The rain stopped falling Friday afternoon, and by Saturday morning the sun returned. The feeling of emerging from a dream stuck with me all day, sort of like the first thirty seconds of Eels “The Medication is Wearing Off.”
After I returned home I cleaned, read, and took a bath with William Gibson’s “Spook Country”. The boys played with T’s new toys, esp. some “Heroscape” additions. Two thirteen year old babysitters arrived at 5PM. M and I ate mediocre Mexican food in Brown Deer. We hit Toys R Us, and, brace yourself, bought a couple Christmas presents for N. Their clearance sale, probably designed to empty the shelves for the holiday season, was in full force, and we picked up a couple of cool Matchbox sets. Bow to our astute Christmas present purchasing habits. After Toys R Us we hit Borders, where I bought David Foster Wallace’s “Consider the Lobster” for the plane ride to Italy. Of course, I started reading as soon as I arrived home. After Borders we hit Bayshore, where M bought some clothes at J. Jill. We drove through town a bit before returning home. I dropped off the babysitters. M was pissed because the babysitters “cleaned”, or at least they tried to clean, but the house was already pretty well organized, and the babysitters did little but fuck things up. For example, M had bags ready for the kids’ first day of school, and the babysitters wrenched them under the chairs on the front porch. What the fuck? Also, while the babysitters cleaned the kids watched television. Bad form.
Ok, I’m still wired. Maybe I’ll take out the bike, although I kind of feel like I need some rest. Wired but tired. I don’t like this feeling. More later
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
The rain has fallen nearly continually since Saturday. This afternoon we had a few hours of sun but in the late afternoons the clouds returned and an absolute motherfucker of a storm descended on southeastern Wisconsin. M tells me the beds upstairs are soaked because I failed to close the skylights. Oh well. I like the air. Today’s rain is fresh, while the rain earlier in the week left me feeling as if every surface in the house was covered with a slick sheen of water.
M is off at a Unitarian Universalist children’s committee meeting. The boys are watching television. They’ve been gone the last few days, up with friends in Door County, and I can tell they’re tired. I doubt they’ll have a hard time falling asleep, even if their beds are covered in rain. I suppose I could drag them into interacting with me, but I don’t want to force the issue.
Today was ok. I played basketball this morning, a little better than usual, despite last night’s weight lifting session (lifting weights tends to throw off one’s shot). I spent most of the morning airing out the house and cleaning in the family’s absence. After lunch I ran errands. I sent a CD overseas (I find it curious, by the way, that the people at the post office can’t seem to decide whether or not I have to fill out that green form every time I send a CD), returned library books, returned movies, and talked with Freda on the phone in the car. I also stopped at garden store for new houseplants (I need them for work) and a supermarket for office tea. I hung out at work for a couple hours, but I wasn’t especially productive. I finished preparing for one class next week, but my prep was half-assed at best. I then gossiped in another office with a couple colleagues until close to five. Mary and I were supposed to attend a new student orientation dinner, but the organizers did that evil thing where they assign everyone seats so people mingle or whatever, so I bailed and drove home. The storm was in full swing by the time I hit 43. Trees swayed along the highway like they were auditioning for a weather channel commercial. The skies were nickel grey. I swung off the highway earlier than usual, since traffic was kicking into gear, and took the back roads home. I was happy to see the family, and they seemed happy to see me.
A few bullets:
I saw “Superbad” a few nights ago. Very good. I think M should see the film. The script had an improvisational feel, and the kid from Arrested Development did a great job.
I’m working through Gibson’s “Spook Country.” I like the book, but I’m afraid I’m reading one of my favorite authors at a time when my concentration isn’t at its highest, and I may have to return to the book later.
I ran into the priest who is taking us to Italy at work today. We leave in something like seven weeks. I’m not remotely mentally prepared. Where do I get Italian money? There are people going on the trip with me who already HAVE Italian money.
I mentioned tea above. Question…the organic tea or whatever I buy in bottles makes me feel good. However, the tea costs a buck fifty a bottle. Worth it?
More later. Good night.
M is off at a Unitarian Universalist children’s committee meeting. The boys are watching television. They’ve been gone the last few days, up with friends in Door County, and I can tell they’re tired. I doubt they’ll have a hard time falling asleep, even if their beds are covered in rain. I suppose I could drag them into interacting with me, but I don’t want to force the issue.
Today was ok. I played basketball this morning, a little better than usual, despite last night’s weight lifting session (lifting weights tends to throw off one’s shot). I spent most of the morning airing out the house and cleaning in the family’s absence. After lunch I ran errands. I sent a CD overseas (I find it curious, by the way, that the people at the post office can’t seem to decide whether or not I have to fill out that green form every time I send a CD), returned library books, returned movies, and talked with Freda on the phone in the car. I also stopped at garden store for new houseplants (I need them for work) and a supermarket for office tea. I hung out at work for a couple hours, but I wasn’t especially productive. I finished preparing for one class next week, but my prep was half-assed at best. I then gossiped in another office with a couple colleagues until close to five. Mary and I were supposed to attend a new student orientation dinner, but the organizers did that evil thing where they assign everyone seats so people mingle or whatever, so I bailed and drove home. The storm was in full swing by the time I hit 43. Trees swayed along the highway like they were auditioning for a weather channel commercial. The skies were nickel grey. I swung off the highway earlier than usual, since traffic was kicking into gear, and took the back roads home. I was happy to see the family, and they seemed happy to see me.
A few bullets:
I saw “Superbad” a few nights ago. Very good. I think M should see the film. The script had an improvisational feel, and the kid from Arrested Development did a great job.
I’m working through Gibson’s “Spook Country.” I like the book, but I’m afraid I’m reading one of my favorite authors at a time when my concentration isn’t at its highest, and I may have to return to the book later.
I ran into the priest who is taking us to Italy at work today. We leave in something like seven weeks. I’m not remotely mentally prepared. Where do I get Italian money? There are people going on the trip with me who already HAVE Italian money.
I mentioned tea above. Question…the organic tea or whatever I buy in bottles makes me feel good. However, the tea costs a buck fifty a bottle. Worth it?
More later. Good night.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Ooh, I loved today. The rain has fallen steadily since about noon. The sky is a perfect fall grey, like the grey I remember sitting outside of Lane Tech High School, where I had no friends, or riding the CTA, clinging to the window and feeling totally at peace. I love this weather, and I will be thoroughly depressed when warm weather returns. I could not live somewhere without seasons, and I’m somewhat concerned that when I leave for Italy I’ll miss ten days of the most beautiful Wisconsin Autumn weather. Maybe we’ll take the kids up north to see the leaves change. A few minutes ago I sat on the back porch, under the gazebo, and listened to the rain, faster and more furious than before, and watched the apple tree sway in the wind. The sky was the color of Hopper’s “House At Dusk”, maybe a little darker, even, and I huddled with my flannel (first time I had worn the flannel in forever) and drank iced tea. Beautiful.
This morning S and I drove over to the local farmer’s market not long after dawn. Our local farmer’s market sucks compared to West Bend’s, fifteen miles west, but I wasn’t in the mood for the drive. West Bend’s market has about 100 stands, mushrooms, blueberries, etc., while our local market has weird arts and crafts stands and about ten vegetable stands. The stands stick with the basics, tomatoes, etc. I snagged some kale, cookies, and chocolate/zucchini bread. S was in a good mood, very chatty, and we had fun. After we returned home I could smell the impending rain, so I quickly cut the grass and filled the beer feeders. I was playing Madden on the Wii when M handed me the phone. A neighbor, a Mexican guy named Rick, asked if I wanted to drive down to Milwaukee and help him load a couple dressers into his truck. Now, the most natural response for someone like me would be a quick apology for my packed schedule (the Wii-game was only in the second quarter), but I was in a good mood, so I agreed. We drove down to the Milwaukee barrio, I guess, whatever you’d call the stretch of restaurants and small shops off National without sounding disrespectful. We ate in the back of the El Ray supermarket. I had a burrito. Jesus Christ, the burrito was good, Taco and Burrito House good, and the environment couldn’t have been more authentic. I think I was the only non-Latino in the place. The booths were all standard fast-food, the counter packed, a little girl eating Fruity Pebbles at the next table while her parents had their lunch, man, this place is only thirty minutes from my house, but I might as well have been on Saturn. We drove through a couple rough neighborhoods afterwards. Maybe college is a good idea, you know? I do wonder if my kids are too sheltered, though. I hope my kids learn to fight sooner or later. Anyway, we loaded up the two dressers with minimal drama and drove home in the rain. After unloading the furniture I returned home to discover half the neighborhood playing in my house while M read “Harry Potter” on the front porch. I pulled up a chair and read the Jancee Dunn book next to her. This might have been the first time in thirteen years of marriage and about fifteen years of living together when my wife and I sat next to each other and read. Weird. I wonder if she’ll pick up another book after she finishes the Harry Potter series. I got bored, so I drove around town, picked up batteries (turned out I didn’t need them, the remote control was set on “VCR”) and a twelve pack. After everyone left the boys watched television while I took a bath and read some more. I closed the skylight and turned on the heater. Bliss. Later T and I watched some of the Brewers and Packers games, then a little of High School Musical 2, until we went upstairs and silent read until they fell asleep. Oh, I also told them a stinkpot/wart story. Pretty soon they won’t want to hear them. They’re good kids. I didn’t get to hang out with N as much as I would like today. Oh, at one point M told him to show me how clean he was, so he came into the living room and dropped his pants. Lovely.
I hope the rain continues tomorrow. Good night.
This morning S and I drove over to the local farmer’s market not long after dawn. Our local farmer’s market sucks compared to West Bend’s, fifteen miles west, but I wasn’t in the mood for the drive. West Bend’s market has about 100 stands, mushrooms, blueberries, etc., while our local market has weird arts and crafts stands and about ten vegetable stands. The stands stick with the basics, tomatoes, etc. I snagged some kale, cookies, and chocolate/zucchini bread. S was in a good mood, very chatty, and we had fun. After we returned home I could smell the impending rain, so I quickly cut the grass and filled the beer feeders. I was playing Madden on the Wii when M handed me the phone. A neighbor, a Mexican guy named Rick, asked if I wanted to drive down to Milwaukee and help him load a couple dressers into his truck. Now, the most natural response for someone like me would be a quick apology for my packed schedule (the Wii-game was only in the second quarter), but I was in a good mood, so I agreed. We drove down to the Milwaukee barrio, I guess, whatever you’d call the stretch of restaurants and small shops off National without sounding disrespectful. We ate in the back of the El Ray supermarket. I had a burrito. Jesus Christ, the burrito was good, Taco and Burrito House good, and the environment couldn’t have been more authentic. I think I was the only non-Latino in the place. The booths were all standard fast-food, the counter packed, a little girl eating Fruity Pebbles at the next table while her parents had their lunch, man, this place is only thirty minutes from my house, but I might as well have been on Saturn. We drove through a couple rough neighborhoods afterwards. Maybe college is a good idea, you know? I do wonder if my kids are too sheltered, though. I hope my kids learn to fight sooner or later. Anyway, we loaded up the two dressers with minimal drama and drove home in the rain. After unloading the furniture I returned home to discover half the neighborhood playing in my house while M read “Harry Potter” on the front porch. I pulled up a chair and read the Jancee Dunn book next to her. This might have been the first time in thirteen years of marriage and about fifteen years of living together when my wife and I sat next to each other and read. Weird. I wonder if she’ll pick up another book after she finishes the Harry Potter series. I got bored, so I drove around town, picked up batteries (turned out I didn’t need them, the remote control was set on “VCR”) and a twelve pack. After everyone left the boys watched television while I took a bath and read some more. I closed the skylight and turned on the heater. Bliss. Later T and I watched some of the Brewers and Packers games, then a little of High School Musical 2, until we went upstairs and silent read until they fell asleep. Oh, I also told them a stinkpot/wart story. Pretty soon they won’t want to hear them. They’re good kids. I didn’t get to hang out with N as much as I would like today. Oh, at one point M told him to show me how clean he was, so he came into the living room and dropped his pants. Lovely.
I hope the rain continues tomorrow. Good night.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Nearing eleven, late Friday night. 62F (about 17C) with an audible breeze off the lake, skewing a bit to the north. The skies are mostly clear but dotted with night-clouds, white against the sky's dark blue. Beautiful. I went for a drive just to take it all in, and I don't want to die, ever, on nights like tonight.
I’ve been thinking about death lately. I suppose most middle-aged guys start thinking about death, so I doubt I’m onto something new and exciting. My thoughts can be summarized in two bullets:
1) I am happier and more content in my life on a daily basis than ever before. I’ll be out on a ride, like tonight, or out watching my kids skateboard in the cemetery, and my heart will about burst from wanting to grab hold of the moment and hold it as close as I can.
2) Someday I am going to die.
I hope that makes sense. More on this as I think through the context. Tonight, though, I can hear the wind set off the neighborhood’s wind chimes, and all is good and right in the world.
I skipped hoops this morning and managed twelve hours of sleep. No wonder I’m up late tonight, eh? Not long after waking I called the Craigslist guy about the drums. He seemed older, and I tried to talk price on the phone, but he said I should wait until I see the set before I say anything. I drove down to Mequon, expecting some old guy in overalls or something, but the guy was actually just a little older than me. He was really cool, and the set was in great shape. He said his son was getting ready to ship out to Iraq and wanted to get rid of the set. Wow. I don’t know how to process that sort of karma. He also said he would use the money to buy his other son a new cello. Now, the guy was far from broke (this was Mequon, an affluent suburb), but the deal seemed fair, so I gave him $250 and called it a day. Score one for Craigslist. We loaded up the drums in my van and I drove home. M and I set up the drums in our bedroom and let the kids go crazy. T actually seems to have some sense of rhythm. Maybe we’ll get him lessons or teach him how to play along to The Ramones. I guess drummers are always needed, as there aren't a ton around, but I don’t think they get the chicks. Hopefully one of the boys will stick with the drums, and the other two can pick up guitar and/or bass or keyboards or something else, and they can form a band. They can practice here. I don’t mind, and the sound doesn't travel much outside. I checked.
I couldn’t get into much of a groove the rest of the day. S tried to teach me how to play Madden football, and I said “goddamn” and “fuck” in front of my seven year old son because I couldn’t figure out how to get my quarterback to pass. Great parenting! S actually told me to calm down as it was only a game. Well, that’s progress, anyway. I cleaned for a while and uploaded a video of T skateboarding through the cemetery. Here’s the link:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=FYWWih0kpno
Later I figured out the passing and beat the computer-Bears (I was the Steelers) 35-3. M left for a party early in the evening. The boys and a friend watched High School Musical 2. I wasn’t in the mood to watch the movie, so I talked on the phone with Dan, back from Branson, but N kept interrupting me (apparently he wasn’t into HS Musical 2 either) so we cut the conversation short. N and I played with clay for a while. I programmed a mix CD for someone from the eels board. I’ll post the songs tomorrow. The computer was giving me a hard time, and I fucked up the mix once, so I got frustrated. S was also sneaking into the kitchen for brownies every ten seconds. I had to breathe deep and wait for M’s return. After the kids were asleep I went for the ride mentioned above. Oh, my passport arrived today, too, and I look nothing short of a terrorist in the picture. I might not reach Italy.
Tomorrow…farmer’s market, hopefully a walk with Shadow, and some lawn care before the rain. Good night. Great sleeping weather ahead. I’m looking forward to fall.
I’ve been thinking about death lately. I suppose most middle-aged guys start thinking about death, so I doubt I’m onto something new and exciting. My thoughts can be summarized in two bullets:
1) I am happier and more content in my life on a daily basis than ever before. I’ll be out on a ride, like tonight, or out watching my kids skateboard in the cemetery, and my heart will about burst from wanting to grab hold of the moment and hold it as close as I can.
2) Someday I am going to die.
I hope that makes sense. More on this as I think through the context. Tonight, though, I can hear the wind set off the neighborhood’s wind chimes, and all is good and right in the world.
I skipped hoops this morning and managed twelve hours of sleep. No wonder I’m up late tonight, eh? Not long after waking I called the Craigslist guy about the drums. He seemed older, and I tried to talk price on the phone, but he said I should wait until I see the set before I say anything. I drove down to Mequon, expecting some old guy in overalls or something, but the guy was actually just a little older than me. He was really cool, and the set was in great shape. He said his son was getting ready to ship out to Iraq and wanted to get rid of the set. Wow. I don’t know how to process that sort of karma. He also said he would use the money to buy his other son a new cello. Now, the guy was far from broke (this was Mequon, an affluent suburb), but the deal seemed fair, so I gave him $250 and called it a day. Score one for Craigslist. We loaded up the drums in my van and I drove home. M and I set up the drums in our bedroom and let the kids go crazy. T actually seems to have some sense of rhythm. Maybe we’ll get him lessons or teach him how to play along to The Ramones. I guess drummers are always needed, as there aren't a ton around, but I don’t think they get the chicks. Hopefully one of the boys will stick with the drums, and the other two can pick up guitar and/or bass or keyboards or something else, and they can form a band. They can practice here. I don’t mind, and the sound doesn't travel much outside. I checked.
I couldn’t get into much of a groove the rest of the day. S tried to teach me how to play Madden football, and I said “goddamn” and “fuck” in front of my seven year old son because I couldn’t figure out how to get my quarterback to pass. Great parenting! S actually told me to calm down as it was only a game. Well, that’s progress, anyway. I cleaned for a while and uploaded a video of T skateboarding through the cemetery. Here’s the link:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=FYWWih0kpno
Later I figured out the passing and beat the computer-Bears (I was the Steelers) 35-3. M left for a party early in the evening. The boys and a friend watched High School Musical 2. I wasn’t in the mood to watch the movie, so I talked on the phone with Dan, back from Branson, but N kept interrupting me (apparently he wasn’t into HS Musical 2 either) so we cut the conversation short. N and I played with clay for a while. I programmed a mix CD for someone from the eels board. I’ll post the songs tomorrow. The computer was giving me a hard time, and I fucked up the mix once, so I got frustrated. S was also sneaking into the kitchen for brownies every ten seconds. I had to breathe deep and wait for M’s return. After the kids were asleep I went for the ride mentioned above. Oh, my passport arrived today, too, and I look nothing short of a terrorist in the picture. I might not reach Italy.
Tomorrow…farmer’s market, hopefully a walk with Shadow, and some lawn care before the rain. Good night. Great sleeping weather ahead. I’m looking forward to fall.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
I’m on the office floor, mid-evening, although I’m more tired than one might expect. I’m not sure why. Anyway, at least the air is cooler, with overnight temps projected at below sixty degrees F, so I’m looking forward to sleeping.
This morning I skipped hoops and drove to work early after watching “My Boys” with M. I spent most of the day finishing cleaning out my old office and moving into my new office. I had way too much fun organizing my crap on my shelves and the like. I think I’m going to like the new space. The overhead lights will remain off, if I can help it, with two small, dimmed lamps and the computer screen providing all the illumination I need. A student with whom I was going to get tea cancelled, so I drove home early in the afternoon. T is gone all day, at a waterpark with a friend, so N and I played “guys” (action figures) until he grew bored. S has been asking to hit Bayshore’s Barnes and Noble, so we got in the car on a lark and droved south. Just as we pulled onto 43 my phone rang. The Craiglist drum guy called back. I might go see the set tomorrow, although he wants $275 for it, and both M and a guy on the eels message board said $200 was more reasonable. Here’s the set:
http://milwaukee.craigslist.org/msg/380530868.html
I suck at talking people down, so perhaps M can drive down and negotiate. T really wants a set, though, and if drums keep him out of trouble and become a serious interest, how can you lose?
S picked up a book on “birds of prey”. After we left we snagged subs and Potbelly’s, where the girl behind the counter first thought S was a girl and then asked me who the girl dinosaur was on Barney (Baby Bop, although I didn’t know, someone else had to supply the answer). I took a bath and read after arriving home. M and her friends were all out back, and I stopped over to say hi, but I wasn’t in the mood for mom socialization, and M kept cutting me off in the conversation, so I gave up and came inside.
Some bullets:
Stars’ “In Our Bedroom After The War” has grown on me. You have to give the band credit; they do the synth/New Order thing as seriously as anyone and don’t suck at all.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stars_(band)
I also don’t know much about Broken Social Scene, but apparently both Stars and Feist are connected to the band in some way, so I must check them out. Dan burnt me a disc, I believe.
I’ve been reading Jancee Dunn’s “But Enough About Me” over the last few days. I like it.
http://www.amazon.com/But-Enough-About-Me-Adventures/dp/0060843640/ref=pd_bbs_sr_2/002-8553311-0500848?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1187311700&sr=8-2
More later. Boys bouncing around.
This morning I skipped hoops and drove to work early after watching “My Boys” with M. I spent most of the day finishing cleaning out my old office and moving into my new office. I had way too much fun organizing my crap on my shelves and the like. I think I’m going to like the new space. The overhead lights will remain off, if I can help it, with two small, dimmed lamps and the computer screen providing all the illumination I need. A student with whom I was going to get tea cancelled, so I drove home early in the afternoon. T is gone all day, at a waterpark with a friend, so N and I played “guys” (action figures) until he grew bored. S has been asking to hit Bayshore’s Barnes and Noble, so we got in the car on a lark and droved south. Just as we pulled onto 43 my phone rang. The Craiglist drum guy called back. I might go see the set tomorrow, although he wants $275 for it, and both M and a guy on the eels message board said $200 was more reasonable. Here’s the set:
http://milwaukee.craigslist.org/msg/380530868.html
I suck at talking people down, so perhaps M can drive down and negotiate. T really wants a set, though, and if drums keep him out of trouble and become a serious interest, how can you lose?
S picked up a book on “birds of prey”. After we left we snagged subs and Potbelly’s, where the girl behind the counter first thought S was a girl and then asked me who the girl dinosaur was on Barney (Baby Bop, although I didn’t know, someone else had to supply the answer). I took a bath and read after arriving home. M and her friends were all out back, and I stopped over to say hi, but I wasn’t in the mood for mom socialization, and M kept cutting me off in the conversation, so I gave up and came inside.
Some bullets:
Stars’ “In Our Bedroom After The War” has grown on me. You have to give the band credit; they do the synth/New Order thing as seriously as anyone and don’t suck at all.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stars_(band)
I also don’t know much about Broken Social Scene, but apparently both Stars and Feist are connected to the band in some way, so I must check them out. Dan burnt me a disc, I believe.
I’ve been reading Jancee Dunn’s “But Enough About Me” over the last few days. I like it.
http://www.amazon.com/But-Enough-About-Me-Adventures/dp/0060843640/ref=pd_bbs_sr_2/002-8553311-0500848?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1187311700&sr=8-2
More later. Boys bouncing around.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
I feel as if my skin is completely covered in sweat, not because of the Mexican food I just ate, but because of the high humidity. How the hell do you people in the south survive all summer? This weekend we’re supposed to have high temperatures in the sixties. I can’t wait for football weather.
M and the boys are home. I picked them up from O’Hare on Saturday afternoon. When did O’Hare become such a hellhole? Anyway, the first few hours of return are always stressful. The fragile cleanliness of the house disappears in moments. The kids bounce off to see their friends. M and I adjust to each other’s presences. We’ve got the system down. I’m glad they’re home.
I returned to work Monday morning as well. You know, I’m starting my seventh year at my current organization, and my previous record for job stability is four years. Every day is a new experience in permanence. I feel like I know what I’m doing more often than not. I’ll know which form to use for what and whom to call when the copier does this or that. I like feeling like I know what I’m doing. Today I moved most of my crap into a new office. I cleaned out a ton, too, throwing away a lot of old paperwork and literacy books. My new office doesn’t have a window, but I requested the space because of 1) the location, away from the controversy corridor, 2) the fact I can close my door and no one can see inside, and 3) the solidification of my program as separate from the other programs in controversy corridor. I hope my colleague moves all her crap out of the office soon, so I can decorate and feel like the space is mine.
Last night Shadow and I walked downtown. If you live in a town like this one you owe yourself evening walks every now and then. Downtown shuts down early, except for the bars, and the local teenagers sit on the corner benches, bored. A friend told me she was going to have to put her dog down (I hate that phrase) soon, and I got to thinking Shadow and I won’t be able to walk together forever. I guess the walk was for old time’s sake. I love that dog.
A few bullets:
T wants a drum set. I’ve called a guy from Craiglist to find out if his is still for sale. The neighborhood should brace itself.
I’m getting more into the new William Gibson every day, but it’s hard to read with the heavy weather. Do people in the tropics read books, or do they sit in the air conditioning and watch television all day?
I listened to The Stars “In Our Bedroom After The War” a few times at work today. I like that disc. Yesterday I listened to Stars on The Lid’s “The Ballasted Orchestra”. That’s as good as ambient gets, in my eyes, anyway.
Did I mention I saw “I Think I Love My Wife?” Good movie, but don’t watch it with your spouse, or you’ll end up in the “would you ever cheat on me?” conversation. Good luck.
I like sitting on the porch and watching the birds on the bird feeder. I’m easy to please.
More later. Good night.
M and the boys are home. I picked them up from O’Hare on Saturday afternoon. When did O’Hare become such a hellhole? Anyway, the first few hours of return are always stressful. The fragile cleanliness of the house disappears in moments. The kids bounce off to see their friends. M and I adjust to each other’s presences. We’ve got the system down. I’m glad they’re home.
I returned to work Monday morning as well. You know, I’m starting my seventh year at my current organization, and my previous record for job stability is four years. Every day is a new experience in permanence. I feel like I know what I’m doing more often than not. I’ll know which form to use for what and whom to call when the copier does this or that. I like feeling like I know what I’m doing. Today I moved most of my crap into a new office. I cleaned out a ton, too, throwing away a lot of old paperwork and literacy books. My new office doesn’t have a window, but I requested the space because of 1) the location, away from the controversy corridor, 2) the fact I can close my door and no one can see inside, and 3) the solidification of my program as separate from the other programs in controversy corridor. I hope my colleague moves all her crap out of the office soon, so I can decorate and feel like the space is mine.
Last night Shadow and I walked downtown. If you live in a town like this one you owe yourself evening walks every now and then. Downtown shuts down early, except for the bars, and the local teenagers sit on the corner benches, bored. A friend told me she was going to have to put her dog down (I hate that phrase) soon, and I got to thinking Shadow and I won’t be able to walk together forever. I guess the walk was for old time’s sake. I love that dog.
A few bullets:
T wants a drum set. I’ve called a guy from Craiglist to find out if his is still for sale. The neighborhood should brace itself.
I’m getting more into the new William Gibson every day, but it’s hard to read with the heavy weather. Do people in the tropics read books, or do they sit in the air conditioning and watch television all day?
I listened to The Stars “In Our Bedroom After The War” a few times at work today. I like that disc. Yesterday I listened to Stars on The Lid’s “The Ballasted Orchestra”. That’s as good as ambient gets, in my eyes, anyway.
Did I mention I saw “I Think I Love My Wife?” Good movie, but don’t watch it with your spouse, or you’ll end up in the “would you ever cheat on me?” conversation. Good luck.
I like sitting on the porch and watching the birds on the bird feeder. I’m easy to please.
More later. Good night.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Friday night, quiet, a little after 9PM. I’m glad the neighborhood seems more or less still (although I didn’t look towards the corner, maybe that’s where the action landed), although I did show up at a bonfire for all of thirty seconds earlier in the evening. Tomorrow M and the kids fly home, and I didn’t want to get drunk or anything leading up to their return. I wanted to clear my head, get to sleep early, wake up early tomorrow, finish up some tasks around the house, and drive calmly down to O’Hare for the pickup.
I had a decent Friday. This morning I played hoops, redeeming myself for a horrific Wednesday performance, and picked up the Friday papers. I considered lifting weights, but I wasn’t in the mood. This morning I finished the last season of “Arrested Development.” Man, I loved that show. I’m hard-pressed to think of a more original series in the history of television. Oh well, all good things must come to an end. After finishing the series I ate lunch and drove over to see “Stardust”. I love Neil Gaiman’s work, so my expectations were high, and I wasn’t disappointed. Listen, I agree with the NY Times critic that the entire Robert Deniro crossdresser thing could be excised from the film with no ill effects. I don’t care. I’m a sucker for that sort of fantasy, the broad sweeping kind, and I enjoyed the film immensely. Claire Daines was luminous, no pun intended. I was one of only six people in the theater, at the first showing on the first day of release, so I’m afraid the film’s commercial prospects are less than promising. I also had to pee three different times during the film. Damn diet coke! After the film I ran through the supermarket, shopping for the family’s return, and drove home. Within a few minutes after my return home, while picking up the mail, my neighbor Jim informed me he was coming over to finish building a set of stairs from the back yard to the deck. For the nine years, since the pool’s removal, we’ve sort of stepped high or scooted across the deck to get from the ground to the wood surface. I watched Jim build the stairs, since I have no expertise in that area whatsoever, and I think I learned a bit about woodworking in the process. I might be able to build something like stairs on my own in the future. I’m serious.
After Jim left his wife and I talked about her potential new gig (Costco) and I briefly visited the bonfire. Neighborhood guy drama (loud rap music, smoke allergies) was lurking nearby, so I ditched the event early. I took a bath then watched the first forty-five minutes or so of “I Think I Love My Wife.” The movie was better than I expected. Did it make any money? I have no idea. I felt fatigue near, so I turned off the television, fed Shadow and the cats, and watched a bit of the Brew game. I think I’ll read some Gibson and sleep on the couch. Maybe I’ll meditate.
I’ve started writing poetry again. More later. Good night.
I had a decent Friday. This morning I played hoops, redeeming myself for a horrific Wednesday performance, and picked up the Friday papers. I considered lifting weights, but I wasn’t in the mood. This morning I finished the last season of “Arrested Development.” Man, I loved that show. I’m hard-pressed to think of a more original series in the history of television. Oh well, all good things must come to an end. After finishing the series I ate lunch and drove over to see “Stardust”. I love Neil Gaiman’s work, so my expectations were high, and I wasn’t disappointed. Listen, I agree with the NY Times critic that the entire Robert Deniro crossdresser thing could be excised from the film with no ill effects. I don’t care. I’m a sucker for that sort of fantasy, the broad sweeping kind, and I enjoyed the film immensely. Claire Daines was luminous, no pun intended. I was one of only six people in the theater, at the first showing on the first day of release, so I’m afraid the film’s commercial prospects are less than promising. I also had to pee three different times during the film. Damn diet coke! After the film I ran through the supermarket, shopping for the family’s return, and drove home. Within a few minutes after my return home, while picking up the mail, my neighbor Jim informed me he was coming over to finish building a set of stairs from the back yard to the deck. For the nine years, since the pool’s removal, we’ve sort of stepped high or scooted across the deck to get from the ground to the wood surface. I watched Jim build the stairs, since I have no expertise in that area whatsoever, and I think I learned a bit about woodworking in the process. I might be able to build something like stairs on my own in the future. I’m serious.
After Jim left his wife and I talked about her potential new gig (Costco) and I briefly visited the bonfire. Neighborhood guy drama (loud rap music, smoke allergies) was lurking nearby, so I ditched the event early. I took a bath then watched the first forty-five minutes or so of “I Think I Love My Wife.” The movie was better than I expected. Did it make any money? I have no idea. I felt fatigue near, so I turned off the television, fed Shadow and the cats, and watched a bit of the Brew game. I think I’ll read some Gibson and sleep on the couch. Maybe I’ll meditate.
I’ve started writing poetry again. More later. Good night.
Thursday, August 09, 2007
I’m in the library back home, angry, nearing 10AM. I’m angry because once again M and the boys’ travel plans have been fucked. I had three conditions for leaving my family back in NY. First, they had to travel back on the same day we were originally scheduled to drive back. Second, they couldn’t drive back on their own. Third, they had to fly into Milwaukee. I bent on the Milwaukee issue after M said they could fly into O’Hare. Well, now M says she accidentally booked them into Midway. FUCK THAT. She’s working on switching the flight right now. I feel like I bend, bend, bend for M’s family, constantly, and every decision is arranged around their convenience. Frankly, I think her mom should get off her fucking ass and drive with everyone back to Milwaukee. I’ve put forty fucking hours in the car this summer driving back and forth from western NY, she can drive one fucking way and catch a flight back.
Ok, beating up my laptop keys, getting that down, was cathartic, but I’m still pissed.
Allow me to supply some background.
We were scheduled to spend two weeks in NY, visiting M’s family. I agreed to make this trip with a couple of caveats. First off, the house is in a horrible area for children. There is no yard, the house’s rooms and small and stuffy, and the main playing area is the small street in front of the block. In turn, the kids, esp. N, need more or less constant monitoring. I made clear that I wasn’t driving ten fucking hours to play babysitter in the street. Second, I could drive to Boston for five days to check out the Hopper exhibit.
None of this worked out as planned.
First off, I agreed to watch the kids in shitland all day and evening while M and her sisters in laws went out. I could live with that. No big deal. However, this seemed to be a harbinger of darker times. I get along with M’s brothers, and the rest of the family pretty well, but her mom and I don’t always click. In this case, with the entire family present, I feel as if my kids get the behavioral shaft at the expense of the other cousins. M’s mom seems afraid of offending her daughter in laws but has no such fears of offending her daughter. Now, men in her family, historically and in the present, serve little function besides earning money, drinking cocktails, and doing what they’re told. I’m sure you can see from where problems develop. I was especially frustrated because M’s mom, in one afternoon, criticized my kids for opening the fucking refrigerator without permission, not peeing straight (I’m not kidding), and failing to articulate words correctly. Let me clarify on the last part. My youngest son (N) has a history of ear infections, and if he’s excited and/or lots of other people are talking, he can be hard to understand, esp. if you don’t know him very well. At Chatuaquaua he’s with all his cousins and excited, so this can become an issue. M’s mom corrected him three times in a row, right in front of his cousins, and I asked her to back off because he was starting to tune her out. I also think it’s horribly embarrassing, esp. at a young age, to have your speech issues constantly pointed out in front of your cousins. Well, M approached her on this later, and apparently her mom went fucking nuts. She sure as hell went fucking nuts on me later, claiming that 1) I had a huge chip on my shoulders (I can see from where she’s coming on this one, but it’s not a chip on my shoulders as much as it is an unwillingness to do whatever the fuck she tells me) 2) my kids need to learn manners, and 3) she can’t understand ANYTHING N says EVER. Fuck her. I kept my cool, told her I appreciated her honesty, and left for a minor league baseball game M’s brother and I planned to attend with the kids. Oh, I should also add that I said she probably wasn’t used to fathers like me, because I tend to be more involved in the decision making, etc., and told her I disagreed with quite a bit of what she said but appreciated her perspective. I wasn’t going to get pushed around, but I wasn’t going to freak back on her, either.
(Maybe later I’ll write about minor league baseball. The experience was interesting. Go Jamestown Jammers!)
The next day I really just wanted to get the hell out of the house for a while, so I gassed up the van and drove over to Westfield. I had an absolutely awful rectangular omelet in a tiny diner. I drove around Westfield, considering the cool-looking library as a potential morning oasis, but the air was already hot and humid, and the building did not look air conditioned. I got on the highway and drove south, thinking I could hit a movie in Erie or something if nothing panned out, but the sun was still low and rising, the hour still early, too early for the theaters. I stopped just over the state line at a very clean tourist center. Pittsburgh was only a couple hours away, and I’ve heard their art museum is interesting, but as soon as I got back on the road I saw a sign for Cleveland, and I was struck by the truth that I had never visited the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I drove into the city, found an eight dollar parking space near the water, and walked towards the Hall.
Allow me to digress from the family issues for a moment to discuss the hall. First off, in order to buy a 20 dollar entrance ticket, I had to get past one of those annoying “can we take your picture, and later you can pick it up if you want?” stands right by the line. I’m by my fucking self, asshole, why would I want a picture in front of a RRHOF mural? Dumbass. I was way more rock and roll than the guy taking pictures, if I do say so myself. Unless the fact he was stuck in a shitty job asking tourists for pictures causes him to form a band, I win that battle. The building was really crowded, but honestly, I enjoyed the experience. I agree with most of the arguments against the RRHOF (e.g. too commercial, who cares about the Allman Brothers’ drumkit, they honor more shitty baby boomer artists than anything, etc.), but I put those aside and cooled down, emotionally and physically, in the display halls. I first checked out an early Beach Boys exhibit, including lyric sheets from “God Only Knows” and some hilarious notes Brian Wilson wrote to his parents and left on the kitchen table about photo shoots changing his schedule for dinner or whatever. I also saw a surprising Joy Division/New Order exhibit (“Love With Tear Us Apart” lyrics) and a decent Clash special exhibit. The rest all started to blend in together after a while. I discovered most rock stars are about four feet tall (I could stomp on David Bowie in my sneakers). I heard a pair of teenage girls trying to figure out who the Talking Heads were (“I think my dad has their album”) and a dad lovingly explaining that Jimmy Page was in the Yardbirds before Zep to a bored and embarrassed teenage boy. There was a pack of about 100 black kids on a field trip from camp in attendance too, and their loudness seemed to scare most of the older folks. Rock and roll! Maybe I’ll take the boys to the Hall when they get older (I can lovingly describe the importance of the Joy Division artifacts to them), but I think I’ll wait a decade or so to visit again.
I left Cleveland sometime after noon, picked up a couple veggie burgers at Burger King, and hit the road. I had time to kill, so I pulled into Peach Street in Erie and tried to find the movie theater. I found the building by sheer luck, as you can’t see the marquee from the street (strange, now that I consider it) and was somewhat lost. “The Simpsons” movie had just started, and I hate missing the previews/start (esp. for a movie like that), so I checked out “The Transformers”. I liked the movie, honestly, but I went in with no expectations beyond sitting in a dark, air conditioned room for a couple of hours. I’m not hard to please. I reached home after a local photographer had taken M’s family pictures. Score one for my punk rock immaturity on that one. I read for a while (M. John Harrison’s “Light”) before M and I talked through the scenario. I also told T I might be leaving early, and he said, “Dad, this place isn’t any fun without you.” I went upstairs and I cried, cried, cried, and I don’t cry very often. I was in a position where I could either leave my kids, with whom I love spending just about every second, or put up with watching hegemonic forces wreak havoc on my family. M and I talked through it, and we agreed to leave on Tuesday morning, somewhat early, so M’s mom and I didn’t kill each other.
M changed her mind in the morning. She wanted to stay longer because one of her friends, her maid of honor, actually, was arriving nearby on Monday. I said she could, fine, I’d drive the kids back Tuesday, and she could catch a flight or something. She said she wanted the kids to stay so she could hang out with them. Well I wanted the kids with me too, you know? I talked with T again, very careful not to pressure him or put him in the middle, and he said he’d be ok staying in Chautauqua and playing with friends if I wanted to leave. He’s such a good kid, and I fear we’ll pay the price someday for putting him the position where he’s had to be so mature so early. At that I loaded my car, put Shadow in the back, and hit the fucking road. I reached Milwaukee by 5.
This week has been ok. I haven’t done a ton, but I suppose that’s the point of a vacation. I’ve read (new William Gibson), watched TV (almost the entire “Arrested Development” series), cleaned (bathrooms, kitchen cabinets, etc.) played hoops, etc. I haven’t gone out much. I was set to pick up M and the kids from O’Hare on Saturday, as agreed, when she told me this morning she “accidentally” booked a Midway flight. I don’t know how the hell you book a flight without knowing at what goddamn airport the plane is landing, but she says she’s fixing it now. I’ve done fucking back flips to keep her family happy. The unwritten rules say everything has to go their way, and their idea of a compromise is to get almost everything they want because they’re set up this in this image of the perfect world, and any modifications to that plan, however small, are framed as a great inconvenience and a challenge to all that is right and good in the world. As I said before, fuck that. I’m re-writing the fucking rules so I can see my kids and they can learn that there’s more to this country’s core than the hegemony of rich white people. I’m not going to idly sit and be their comfortable victim.
More later. Cathartic.
Ok, beating up my laptop keys, getting that down, was cathartic, but I’m still pissed.
Allow me to supply some background.
We were scheduled to spend two weeks in NY, visiting M’s family. I agreed to make this trip with a couple of caveats. First off, the house is in a horrible area for children. There is no yard, the house’s rooms and small and stuffy, and the main playing area is the small street in front of the block. In turn, the kids, esp. N, need more or less constant monitoring. I made clear that I wasn’t driving ten fucking hours to play babysitter in the street. Second, I could drive to Boston for five days to check out the Hopper exhibit.
None of this worked out as planned.
First off, I agreed to watch the kids in shitland all day and evening while M and her sisters in laws went out. I could live with that. No big deal. However, this seemed to be a harbinger of darker times. I get along with M’s brothers, and the rest of the family pretty well, but her mom and I don’t always click. In this case, with the entire family present, I feel as if my kids get the behavioral shaft at the expense of the other cousins. M’s mom seems afraid of offending her daughter in laws but has no such fears of offending her daughter. Now, men in her family, historically and in the present, serve little function besides earning money, drinking cocktails, and doing what they’re told. I’m sure you can see from where problems develop. I was especially frustrated because M’s mom, in one afternoon, criticized my kids for opening the fucking refrigerator without permission, not peeing straight (I’m not kidding), and failing to articulate words correctly. Let me clarify on the last part. My youngest son (N) has a history of ear infections, and if he’s excited and/or lots of other people are talking, he can be hard to understand, esp. if you don’t know him very well. At Chatuaquaua he’s with all his cousins and excited, so this can become an issue. M’s mom corrected him three times in a row, right in front of his cousins, and I asked her to back off because he was starting to tune her out. I also think it’s horribly embarrassing, esp. at a young age, to have your speech issues constantly pointed out in front of your cousins. Well, M approached her on this later, and apparently her mom went fucking nuts. She sure as hell went fucking nuts on me later, claiming that 1) I had a huge chip on my shoulders (I can see from where she’s coming on this one, but it’s not a chip on my shoulders as much as it is an unwillingness to do whatever the fuck she tells me) 2) my kids need to learn manners, and 3) she can’t understand ANYTHING N says EVER. Fuck her. I kept my cool, told her I appreciated her honesty, and left for a minor league baseball game M’s brother and I planned to attend with the kids. Oh, I should also add that I said she probably wasn’t used to fathers like me, because I tend to be more involved in the decision making, etc., and told her I disagreed with quite a bit of what she said but appreciated her perspective. I wasn’t going to get pushed around, but I wasn’t going to freak back on her, either.
(Maybe later I’ll write about minor league baseball. The experience was interesting. Go Jamestown Jammers!)
The next day I really just wanted to get the hell out of the house for a while, so I gassed up the van and drove over to Westfield. I had an absolutely awful rectangular omelet in a tiny diner. I drove around Westfield, considering the cool-looking library as a potential morning oasis, but the air was already hot and humid, and the building did not look air conditioned. I got on the highway and drove south, thinking I could hit a movie in Erie or something if nothing panned out, but the sun was still low and rising, the hour still early, too early for the theaters. I stopped just over the state line at a very clean tourist center. Pittsburgh was only a couple hours away, and I’ve heard their art museum is interesting, but as soon as I got back on the road I saw a sign for Cleveland, and I was struck by the truth that I had never visited the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I drove into the city, found an eight dollar parking space near the water, and walked towards the Hall.
Allow me to digress from the family issues for a moment to discuss the hall. First off, in order to buy a 20 dollar entrance ticket, I had to get past one of those annoying “can we take your picture, and later you can pick it up if you want?” stands right by the line. I’m by my fucking self, asshole, why would I want a picture in front of a RRHOF mural? Dumbass. I was way more rock and roll than the guy taking pictures, if I do say so myself. Unless the fact he was stuck in a shitty job asking tourists for pictures causes him to form a band, I win that battle. The building was really crowded, but honestly, I enjoyed the experience. I agree with most of the arguments against the RRHOF (e.g. too commercial, who cares about the Allman Brothers’ drumkit, they honor more shitty baby boomer artists than anything, etc.), but I put those aside and cooled down, emotionally and physically, in the display halls. I first checked out an early Beach Boys exhibit, including lyric sheets from “God Only Knows” and some hilarious notes Brian Wilson wrote to his parents and left on the kitchen table about photo shoots changing his schedule for dinner or whatever. I also saw a surprising Joy Division/New Order exhibit (“Love With Tear Us Apart” lyrics) and a decent Clash special exhibit. The rest all started to blend in together after a while. I discovered most rock stars are about four feet tall (I could stomp on David Bowie in my sneakers). I heard a pair of teenage girls trying to figure out who the Talking Heads were (“I think my dad has their album”) and a dad lovingly explaining that Jimmy Page was in the Yardbirds before Zep to a bored and embarrassed teenage boy. There was a pack of about 100 black kids on a field trip from camp in attendance too, and their loudness seemed to scare most of the older folks. Rock and roll! Maybe I’ll take the boys to the Hall when they get older (I can lovingly describe the importance of the Joy Division artifacts to them), but I think I’ll wait a decade or so to visit again.
I left Cleveland sometime after noon, picked up a couple veggie burgers at Burger King, and hit the road. I had time to kill, so I pulled into Peach Street in Erie and tried to find the movie theater. I found the building by sheer luck, as you can’t see the marquee from the street (strange, now that I consider it) and was somewhat lost. “The Simpsons” movie had just started, and I hate missing the previews/start (esp. for a movie like that), so I checked out “The Transformers”. I liked the movie, honestly, but I went in with no expectations beyond sitting in a dark, air conditioned room for a couple of hours. I’m not hard to please. I reached home after a local photographer had taken M’s family pictures. Score one for my punk rock immaturity on that one. I read for a while (M. John Harrison’s “Light”) before M and I talked through the scenario. I also told T I might be leaving early, and he said, “Dad, this place isn’t any fun without you.” I went upstairs and I cried, cried, cried, and I don’t cry very often. I was in a position where I could either leave my kids, with whom I love spending just about every second, or put up with watching hegemonic forces wreak havoc on my family. M and I talked through it, and we agreed to leave on Tuesday morning, somewhat early, so M’s mom and I didn’t kill each other.
M changed her mind in the morning. She wanted to stay longer because one of her friends, her maid of honor, actually, was arriving nearby on Monday. I said she could, fine, I’d drive the kids back Tuesday, and she could catch a flight or something. She said she wanted the kids to stay so she could hang out with them. Well I wanted the kids with me too, you know? I talked with T again, very careful not to pressure him or put him in the middle, and he said he’d be ok staying in Chautauqua and playing with friends if I wanted to leave. He’s such a good kid, and I fear we’ll pay the price someday for putting him the position where he’s had to be so mature so early. At that I loaded my car, put Shadow in the back, and hit the fucking road. I reached Milwaukee by 5.
This week has been ok. I haven’t done a ton, but I suppose that’s the point of a vacation. I’ve read (new William Gibson), watched TV (almost the entire “Arrested Development” series), cleaned (bathrooms, kitchen cabinets, etc.) played hoops, etc. I haven’t gone out much. I was set to pick up M and the kids from O’Hare on Saturday, as agreed, when she told me this morning she “accidentally” booked a Midway flight. I don’t know how the hell you book a flight without knowing at what goddamn airport the plane is landing, but she says she’s fixing it now. I’ve done fucking back flips to keep her family happy. The unwritten rules say everything has to go their way, and their idea of a compromise is to get almost everything they want because they’re set up this in this image of the perfect world, and any modifications to that plan, however small, are framed as a great inconvenience and a challenge to all that is right and good in the world. As I said before, fuck that. I’m re-writing the fucking rules so I can see my kids and they can learn that there’s more to this country’s core than the hegemony of rich white people. I’m not going to idly sit and be their comfortable victim.
More later. Cathartic.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
I’m up early. The house is quiet. Yesterday was very hot, but the night cool, probably in the sixties, so I can’t complain at the moment. I sneezed like crazy while walking Shadow this morning, and I’m feeling more tired than usual. I’m not sure why. Maybe she and I will go for a walk this morning. Last night I started to feel the “bounce off the walls” urge, but my rental bike kind of sucks, and I wasn’t in the mood to run. We’ll see about today.
Yesterday morning T woke early, probably around six, and he and I had fun hanging out on our own. We walked over to Bestor Plaza and waited for the bookstore to open so we could buy newspapers and a postcard for Abigal and Jessica back home. I don’t get much time to hang out with the boys, not mention to hang out with one of them one on one, here at Chautauqua, so I was happy with the opportunity. After we arrived home the fatigue encroached on the morning, and I did little but cruise the net and chat with M’s family before falling asleep in an upstairs bedroom. After that I walked down to the water to watch T and S in a “Water Olympics” activity before heading out to the supermarket to pick up twenty bottles of honest tea. Anything to get off the grounds, eh? Later the entire extended family hit a hot dog stand for dinner, where the kids were more or less on good behavior, and returned home to watch the Brewers lose. Stupid fucking Cubs. I hate the fucking Cubs.
I have bits of poetry, pre-poetry, cruising through my head. I sometimes wonder if reawakening that facet of my life will be key to my health. More later.
Yesterday morning T woke early, probably around six, and he and I had fun hanging out on our own. We walked over to Bestor Plaza and waited for the bookstore to open so we could buy newspapers and a postcard for Abigal and Jessica back home. I don’t get much time to hang out with the boys, not mention to hang out with one of them one on one, here at Chautauqua, so I was happy with the opportunity. After we arrived home the fatigue encroached on the morning, and I did little but cruise the net and chat with M’s family before falling asleep in an upstairs bedroom. After that I walked down to the water to watch T and S in a “Water Olympics” activity before heading out to the supermarket to pick up twenty bottles of honest tea. Anything to get off the grounds, eh? Later the entire extended family hit a hot dog stand for dinner, where the kids were more or less on good behavior, and returned home to watch the Brewers lose. Stupid fucking Cubs. I hate the fucking Cubs.
I have bits of poetry, pre-poetry, cruising through my head. I sometimes wonder if reawakening that facet of my life will be key to my health. More later.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
I’m in my mother-in-law’s living room, nearing 5AM. The house is quiet, only the dog and cat nearby for company. I slept on the floor last night/this morning with mixed results. You know, I take a great and somewhat unreasonable satisfaction in my ability to sleep just about anywhere at any time. Since I was kid, sleeping over at friends’ houses, I have been able to sleep in non-traditional circumstances. I suppose hiding from violent parents and using sleep as an escape was part of the habit’s genesis. Whatever the cause, I pride myself on the low maintenance natureof my sleeping scenario. Last night the pattern didn’t hold. I had a hard time fading away then woke permanently when S rolled off the bed on to me. Oh well. I don’t mind the quiet house before dawn.
I also had a couple of nightmares and felt some anger about work surfacing. There’s no way around admitting that some people let me down over the last couple of years. I’m closer to letting that go and moving on to a healthier place. I mean that. I guess I have to feel the anger before I can move on.
The temperatures the next few days are supposed to be deathly hot. I feel some of that exhaustion that’s haunted me the last couple of years as well.
Yesterday, however, was more fine than otherwise. I answered emails near the plaza in the morning. Later in the day my brother in law and I went shopping, where I picked up some ass-kicking tea at a huge supermarket near Jamestown. I might go back and get more today. One of the teas had some caffeine, though. I think the caffeine might have played a role in keeping me up.
Here’s the tea:
http://www.honesttea.com/Index.php
Here’s another brand of tea I’ve been getting at a coffee shop lately. I like the unsweetened kind:
http://www.goldpeaktea.com/
I don’t know if tea is a good racket, moneywise, or not. I’m buying a bottle of the gold peak tea every day at the coffee shop for $2.50, which seems excessive, but I don’t know. There is no easy way for me to make iced tea here in Chautauqua, unfortunately, or else I wouldn’t bother with these other teas. However, they seem like a reasonable and healthier substitute for diet coke. Maybe I can get them at Sendik’s or Whole Foods on sale back in Milwaukee and drink them at the office. Maybe I should just fill a thermos from home.
I keep forgetting to post the link to the Chautauqua webcam. Here’s the link. If it says it’s not working, just wait a couple of seconds, the picture usually starts up before too long. When I say I’m sitting on the Hultquist Center porch, like I did yesterday, I’m sitting just outside what would be the upper left corner of this picture’s perspective.
http://ciweb.org/webcam.html
Ok, guess I’m up. Off to read or watch Sportscenter.
I also had a couple of nightmares and felt some anger about work surfacing. There’s no way around admitting that some people let me down over the last couple of years. I’m closer to letting that go and moving on to a healthier place. I mean that. I guess I have to feel the anger before I can move on.
The temperatures the next few days are supposed to be deathly hot. I feel some of that exhaustion that’s haunted me the last couple of years as well.
Yesterday, however, was more fine than otherwise. I answered emails near the plaza in the morning. Later in the day my brother in law and I went shopping, where I picked up some ass-kicking tea at a huge supermarket near Jamestown. I might go back and get more today. One of the teas had some caffeine, though. I think the caffeine might have played a role in keeping me up.
Here’s the tea:
http://www.honesttea.com/Index.php
Here’s another brand of tea I’ve been getting at a coffee shop lately. I like the unsweetened kind:
http://www.goldpeaktea.com/
I don’t know if tea is a good racket, moneywise, or not. I’m buying a bottle of the gold peak tea every day at the coffee shop for $2.50, which seems excessive, but I don’t know. There is no easy way for me to make iced tea here in Chautauqua, unfortunately, or else I wouldn’t bother with these other teas. However, they seem like a reasonable and healthier substitute for diet coke. Maybe I can get them at Sendik’s or Whole Foods on sale back in Milwaukee and drink them at the office. Maybe I should just fill a thermos from home.
I keep forgetting to post the link to the Chautauqua webcam. Here’s the link. If it says it’s not working, just wait a couple of seconds, the picture usually starts up before too long. When I say I’m sitting on the Hultquist Center porch, like I did yesterday, I’m sitting just outside what would be the upper left corner of this picture’s perspective.
http://ciweb.org/webcam.html
Ok, guess I’m up. Off to read or watch Sportscenter.
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