Brothers

Sometimes I catch myself envisioning my children as 78 year old senior adults, strolling into their local small town coffee shop someday being greeted by their circle of friends. Hard to conceptualize, but it will happen. Long after they've colonized the moon, paid down (not off) our national debt, & solved south Houston's traffic problems, by God's grace, my children will be elderly some day. I suppose most parents don't dwell on such matters but I think it's important to envision & embrace this kind of long term thinking. Reason being is because what I do today as their parent (or don't do for that matter) will impact generations.

What will life be like for them? Did their mother & father properly set them up for success or failure? Will our society be radically different? Will they be in good health? Will they have siblings to lean on when their parents depart this life?

Tonight my daughter went to a slumber party & my sons went with us to a Practice of Medicine meeting for my wife's medical school group. We felt a little out of place without having Kristen near us. Nevertheless the boys had a marvelous time running around together, playing in/near the outdoor pool, petting overly friendly, slobbery, stinky dogs, & being loud & rambunctious at inopportune times (naturally). They seemed to thoroughly enjoy themselves & perhaps more importantly each other. For the measure of their days, I sincerely hope that never changes.

Summer's Arrival

There are few advantages in my play book to the scorching hot days of Summer, but fresh fruit is one of them. For example, my father-in-law says there's nothing worse than biting into a bad orange. I concur. Because when they're bad, they're truly awful. Wretched, soggy strawberries however have to be a close second.

Since I live darn near the Tropic of Cancer (south Houston ;-) I have the option of purchasing strawberries nearly year around (notice I didn't say fresh strawberries). Reminds me of that saying "Just because you can doesn't mean you should." Identifying the worthy of purchasing I've decided is an art form. Since my oldest enjoys them so, I've learned how to detect the contenders from the pretenders. First, (& thank you for asking) the obvious-choose locally grown. Second, I have found the larger & darker the better. Finally (& this is the most tricky & perhaps most important) the skin should sport a waxy, shiny, plastic looking texture. If you follow these steps you could find yourself enjoying a wonderful summer evening treat such as I used to indulge in during my adolescents just before bedtime...which almost always involved a bowl of cheerios, freshly washed & cut strawberries to garnish on top, & a rerun of Magnum P.I. just after the ten o'clock news. Ah the memories. Maybe summer's not so lousy after all. Am I boring you?

Chess Is Life

In keeping with the board game theme, Kristen & I played two games of Chess this afternoon. I can think of no other game that teaches so many basic life skills such as foresight, strategy, patience, peripheral vision, dealing with loss, managing employees (or in this case a small plastic kingdom) delaying gratification, grace under fire, etc., etc. Kristen has been playing for several years now & is gaining confidence & becoming more skilled & seasoned.

That being said, I find I must guard against making everything under the sun an object lesson. After all, it's summer. A time to veg. A time to perfect the art of doing nothing. A time to simply hang with my first born in the middle of a carpeted floor with a squeaky ceiling fan on high directly above us while the a.c. pumps out whopping amounts of British Thermal Units per hour. These are the moments I'll wish I could relive when she's 12 hours away at a big University.

Classic Naval Combat

Engaged in bloody war games this afternoon with my daughter Kristen (A great way to spend a summer afternoon I might add when the punishing outside heat is certain death to old people & small children). My strategy was to move my giant floating armada into one tight cluster with the exception of my patrol boat (which anyone who has played the game knows is the hardest to locate).

At the onset it was like December 7, 1941 all over again! I tell you from the first shot fired, Kristen couldn't miss as she luckily stumbled upon my fleet like sitting ducks. With one swift devastating blow she sank my ships like the Dow on a bad earnings day without the slightest regard for her father's preservation or dignity! Pitiful! ;0)

My only hope rested in my vagrant, listless patrol boat (formerly known as a "cruiser") which I fervently prayed would sustain life long enough for the Allies to muster enough strength & resources for a substantial retaliation.

Alas! I would not be denied! My darkest hour would give way to a victory for the ages! My oldest simply could not hunt down the whereabouts of my only remaining vessel in time to save her own Naval fleet which would prove to be her ultimate demise! (Right about now you're thinking I seriously need to get a life aren't you?) Good fortune may not prevail come tomorrow but for now moral is high with the troops as we relish in the sweet savory smell of victory.

Regardless, we shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas & oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence & growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields & in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender!

The Well Rounded Man

In larger cities I've noticed one can purchase fresh flowers for a very reasonable price (unlike in the smaller communities I lived in growing up with fewer competitors & captive audiences I guess). That being the case, Natalie & I have decided to try to maintain fresh flowers in our home on a regular basis. At the risk of sounding entirely too feminine (too late) they really add such a wonderful depth of color & warmth to our house it would be a shame not to take advantage of the opportunity. My readers should also note I enjoy ice cold beer after mowing the lawn, college & pro football, the occasional cigar, medium rare steaks, polish sausages, baseball, foot long chili cheese dogs (with massive white onion sprinkles on top to ensure fresh breath), frito pies, flannel shirts, never shaving & ape grunts when something really cool happens. Yes I'm quite the well rounded man. :O)

When One Door Closes...

Those who read My June 4th entry know my offspring were quite relieved with the arrival of the last day of school finally upon us. Jubilation quickly turned to sorrow however, in the realization of leaving teachers & friends behind for the summer (or worse, for good, as some were moving away). I tried especially to comfort my daughter with the one worn out expression I actually still believe in- "When one door closes another one opens." I reminded her how she cried her eyes out when we left our previous residence & moved to our current home. I told her if that painful experience had not occurred she never would have met her favorite 4th grade teacher at her new school. I think she understood.

My wife moved often growing up so she has always lived by the motto "Make friends fast." Noble words. You can never fully be certain what's behind or beyond the new door opening but rest assured there's always strength in numbers.

And There Was Much Rejoicing

Captains Log- Stardate: 060409. Crew experiencing unexplainable lift in spirits during early morning commute to salt mines aboard transportation vessel. Docked for morning donuts at 0700 hours outside of Neutral Zone as to avoid any Romulan detection/confrontation.

None of above stated however accounts for crew's origins of excessive joy.

Should note crew retired to quarters early last evening for hearty night's rest but can safely dismiss as root of morning's euphoria.

Careful deduction would also negate benefits of crew's recent dietary changes-fresh kelp from sanctuary moons of Trinoxidevlbenovvvianeespz.

Nonetheless, logic would dictate not to dismiss immediate upcoming sabbatical from salt mine responsibilities for following summer months as cause of celebration. More data would need to be accumulated to develop substantial working theory however.

Will continue to monitor situation closely as crew adjusts to new schedule involving 0.000 early mornings, aggressive consumption of sugar coated cereals, & frequent viewings of strange porous life form who exclusively refers to himself as "Spongebob."

Over & out.

Momentum

Like a freshly pruned bouquet of flowers in an an elegant glass vase sitting front & center on your dining room table, momentum is one of those highly desired yet elusive things in life you know will simply not last.

Anyone who has ever undertaken a substantial project can tell you momentum can be quite difficult to achieve much less sustain. Usually I find during these times things must get worse before they can get better. For example, if your spouse comes to you wanting to repaint your living room, hall, & back three bedrooms, you know the preparation alone for painting (much less the actual act) will initially be slow & painful while simultaneously making your house look like a war zone. I am constantly reminded of this very fact when I prepare a large meal for my family. Usually I must spend at least 30 minutes creating wiggle room in my embarrassingly small & messy kitchen while making even bigger messes under the guise of "preparation" (wink, wink/cynical air quotes) before any serious culinary endeavors can be undertaken.

I find myself dealing with this particular subject today (I thought you'd never ask!) because I've been trying to catch even a handful of this magic pixie dust for the past month on a particular musical project I'm recording. That's the problem with art. You can't simply force the issue without severely damaging the end result. All I can do at this point is have my sails set high & be ready when the narrow winds of opportunity grace me with their presence. Then I shall ride it for as long as humanly possible. In the meantime I'll hang with Kael. ;-)

Sounds I Like

An oscillating fan on low as I quietly nap in a dark air conditioned room on a hot summer day. Fresh Coffee percolating. Breaking glass. Aged firewood snapping & popping on a quiet winter night. Brined, pounded, & heavily seasoned fresh chicken breasts just tossed on a piping hot outdoor charcoal grill (Why do we say "chicken breasts" anyway? They're not mammals. Shouldn't it be "chicken chests?"). A can of tennis balls being opened for the first time. Typing on a laptop (not a regular keypad mind you. Must be a laptop). A thirsty dog lapping his water from a bowl on a 100 degree day in August. A woodpecker doing his (or her!) thing. A fish tank aquarium air pump hard at work. The fairy boat horns in commute late at night to & from Galveston Island. Jason Scheff's electric bass. A "Nothing but net" three pointer. A wooden bat hitting 216 red stitches at 95 mph. Brian E. Smith's laugh (like no other). A NASCAR engine from the driver's perspective (not the audience's) in the heat of the race. A new leather bound book being opened. A canoe being rowed on an otherwise glassy still pond. That muffled voice on the old Pole Position arcade game that always stated "Prepare to qualify!" at the start of your game. A bottle of white wine being opened (preferably Fitzer's Pinot Grigio 2007). A group of professional violinists in unison. Al Michael's commentary. Scripture being read aloud by a child. Bacon cooking. Wind whistling thru my window on an evening in December. The strike of a match. Anything off the Chicago 17 album. A tennis ball being hit in the sweet spot of a tennis racket. That crackly aftermath sound that big commercial level fireworks make while dissipating. An old west steam engine coming to a halt. The tip of a marker writing on a blank sheet of white paper. That subtle high pitched noise dogs make sometimes when they yawn. Gordon Ramsay grinding fresh peppercorns over his culinary creations. Anything out of the mouth of Sarah Palin or Condoleezza Rice. The impact from my daughter's fabulous cannonballs. Bill Champlin's singing voice. A concert grand piano being tuned (preferably a Yamaha, Steinway or Bosendorfer pending on what genre of music). Skates on ice. My children's laughter.