You May Find Yourself

And you may ask yourself-well...how did I get here?
--Talking Heads

I popped open my car trunk the other day to grab my gym bag and noticed a dangling plastic yellow tag. Turns out it’s a trunk release. You yank on it in the event you’re trapped in the trunk of the car and need to get out.

Obviously this trunk release was installed at the factory. Otherwise someone thinks I lead a much more colorful or criminal life than I do. How flattering.

More appropriate, given my age and circumstance, than the trunk release itself was the reminder to run once I’m out of the trunk. Aaaaah, I feel so much safer.

So, how was your weekend?

It's the first question anyone asks you at the watercooler on Monday: So, how was your weekend? Today I can't respond without giggling. My Aunt Carol threw her annual Splash Party on Saturday. Water-guns, a two-lane Slip-n-Slide, beach balls, wading pools and sprinklers made for a super fun time. Naomi and I were completely jazzed to hang out with the gaggle of kids, and near-kids (aka grown ups) in attendance.

I snapped this photo after I dared the kids to strike their silliest pose. Let's just say I didn't have to ask twice because they busted out the silly poses very, very readily.

Having been a parent for six years now, I can say with some distinction that this was a group of the sweetest, most fun-loving, well behaved children quite possibly ever congregated in one place. Nothing stood in the way of this good time. No squabbling, no fighting, no crying nothing but an afternoon fully-loaded with sun screen and splashin' around. Afterwards Naomi and I climbed into the car just dawg-tired. We were running on fumes by that point but still giggled with glee the whole way home.

Thanks, Aunt Carol, for such a fun afternoon! And don't worry, that patch of grass under the Slip-n-Slide will grow back eventually.

The Presidential Race

Circa 1980 the job title I coveted wasn’t astronaut it was President. Put in its proper context my aspiration makes sense. My dad was running his first campaign. My first grade classroom staged a mock-election with the Carter-Regan ballot.

I was selected as one of two class speakers that Tuesday afternoon. We were to speak to the merits of the a candidate. I backed Regan. No lie. I had read the weekly reader, agreed with my grandparents (Republicans on both sides), and advocated my fellow seven-year-olds vote for him. I backed the guy whose first Presidential decision was to remove the solar panels from the roof of the White House. Huh. Go figure.

My dad, and Ronald Regan, both won their elections and, obviously, I decided I wanted to be President.

Best Friends

Naomi: Nobody wants to be my friend.

Me: Naomi, that's not true.

Naomi: Nobody wants to be my best friend. Everybody has a best friend at school and nobody wants to be with me.

Me: You know, there weren't a lot of kids in my neighborhood so when I went to school I felt like nobody wanted to be my best friend either.

Naomi: What did you do?

Me: I learned to read because a book can always be your best friend.

Naomi: Mom, a book can't go on the Monkey Bars!

Morning Stretch

"Naomi, would you please get out of bed?"

"I'm stretching."

"Yes, but you've been stretching for 15 minutes. You don't have that much surface area, darling, and I need to get to work."

"But I'm doing something healthy."

The thought not uttered: "True enough."

Cans for Books Drive

The Cans for Book Drive was a big success. With the help of neighborhood businesses, friends, and family Naomi collected thirty-nine pounds of aluminum which garnered $23.⁵³ for the Prescott School media center. Naomi was pretty thrilled by the impressive load of cans she and her dad drove to the recycling center.

I speak from both the parent and former student perspective to say the support of this community gives rise to strong schools. Thank you to everyone who donated your recycling stash, or in some fashion allowed us to haul off your aluminum to benefit the Cans for Books program.

Istanbul Was Constantinople

Full disclosure: McKibbin and I have been watching Northern Exposure re-runs. This blog post is heavily influenced by my love of Chris In The Morning.

This morning I was making coffee in the break room and I switched on the television as the Today Show cameras found Matt Lauer in Istanbul, Turkey. Immediately I started to humm a song by They Might Be Giants (…if you’ve a date in Constantinople she’ll be waiting in Istanbul…) .

Lauer offered some sound-bite history of Turkey. He mentioned the Ottoman Empire, the culture of Turkish coffee. He rendered a 1630s report of some guy climbing to the top of the Galata Tower, wearing a pair of artificial wings, and leaping from the tower to fly about 3000 meters.

All the while I hummed (…Istanbul was Constantinople, now its Istanbul not Constantinople…) and made coffee at the power plant. My inner narrator thought, obviously this winged-guy from Turkey wasn’t afraid of heights or flying.

It was the sight of the Blue Mosque that stopped me in my tracks. I was bedazzled. Its not often that one of my senses overloads the others. I’m such an auditory person its even less usual for my eyes to lead the charge, but, the mosque was that lovely. I had to come back to my computer and search for something to write... "Named for the blue tiles that decorate the interior, the Blue Mosque is a working religious facility. Completed in 1617, it has 16 balconies, six minarets, and an underground pool that regulates the inside temperature."

Only I would find the underground pool HVAC system interesting. The mosque, however, was a work of sheer inspiration and artistry.
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Speaking of art, remember my ROAR post about my brother’s art show in February? One of his photos won an award from the Nebraska Arts Council. How genius is that?

I might be the first to say so in cyberspacethe award is well deserved. Give it up for my brother who stepped out on a limb, showed what he’s got, and won an award for it. Congratulations, Matt!

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The Blue Mosque also raises the topic of an international experience. With that mention I have to, have to, have to hoot-and-holler with admiration for my friend Becki. She's is off to Tanzania for a two year stint in the Peace Corps.

Becki has a compassionate nature and a rousing sense of purpose. She offers the Peace Corps skills, an open mind, and the enviable ability to pick up foreign languages. The Peace Corps, and the rest of us, are lucky to have such a compassionate person volunteer for the Corps. Straight-up: Becki is my Peace Corps hero.

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I am surrounded on all sides by greatness. And, sigh, I have to say it feels terrific!

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As a parting thought, Happy May Day!

If you have the chance, I suggest hugging your local union rep. For most of human history the weekend was nothing but a pipe dream. It took the labor movement make it a reality. Enough said.