An Update on Dear Old Dad

Originally posted on http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on April 9, 2007.

Well, it’s been a few days again.  For those of you kind enough to have said a few prayers for good old Dad, let me keep you apprised of the situation.

Going back to the day after surgery, and the unsettling visit to ICU, I can happily report that he looked much better less than 24 hours after surgery.  Now, by “much better” this is probably like saying a yellow blotch on my son’s white T-shirt looks much better than a dark brown blotch on a white T-shirt.  It’s all relative.  But keeping in mind the guy just had major surgery, the following was all welcome news: moving out of ICU the following morning, conversing, very short walk, eating a little food.

But I’d like to share with you some of the explanation we received on the whole process that may help those of you out who will someday experience visiting a loved one after heart surgery.  I wish the surgery on nobody, and I wish such a visit on no family, but reality says that it will happen to many of us.

When they start to cut into the chest, the body reacts by going into shock.  This is the body’s natural protection mechanism.  What happens is that the blood pressure lowers dramatically.   Well, we don’t want that during surgery, so this is combated by pumping fluid into the body.  We were told that some people can receive up to 30 pounds of fluid.  On average, 10-15 pounds is required.  Well, this works great for surgery, but there’s this little issue with after the surgery, and where the fluid is going to settle.  The fluid looks for open spots.  The lungs are one such spot.  In order to make sure that the lungs do not fill up, the patient is asked to use this little device where they blow into, to keep the lungs working properly and filled with air.  In addition, the patients are encouraged to cough as much as they can handle it to keep the lungs clear.   What they do to help the fluid get eliminated is they put tubes around the heart.  This creates a larger-than-normal space.  This encourages fluid to settle around the heart as it looks for a place to go.  But the fluid won’t stay there because the tubes are there and so it drains out of the body.  Also, one reason the bandages on the legs look as bad as they do is because fluid is being eliminated through the cuts.  It looks like blood, but while there is blood mixed in, it is actually mostly fluid.   And this is why Dad looked so weird to us after surgery.  We were seeing him all “puffed up” before much fluid had drained.  This also explains why there is a liquid restriction in the day or two afterward.

Dad had a couple long days, and has had a couple of setbacks, unfortunately.  The positive is that he continues to get stronger, but he wasn’t rebounding as they had hoped two days after surgery.  He had a blood transfusion that helped him, though, and all seemed back on track.  We saw him again on Good Friday and he had a pretty good day, and the expectation was that he would go back home on Saturday.

Unfortunately, he had some bleeding on Saturday that may be related to old ulcer problems.  Dad used to have a difficult time with ulcers, but underwent treatment using antibiotics  years ago.  He never had any problems since then, and so the doctors didn’t feel there was a concern with regard to his being on blood thinners.  (Due to the mechanical valve they put in his heart, it requires he take an anticoagulant).  We are still waiting to see if this is a more serious problem or not.  They have taken him off of aspirin, and are only taking him off the blood thinner for one day before he needs to go back on.  

In addition, on Easter Sunday his heart went out of rhythm, and now he’s back on IVs.  The good news is that he is feeling OK and is getting stronger – these problems are not affecting his recovery in that regard, but it does mean he can’t go home.  I know he is really looking forward to his recliner!

We are keeping Dad in our prayers, and still anticipate a full recovery.

Reflections of the Heart

Originally posted at http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on April 3, 2007.

Reflecting on yesterday is an important thing.  We all know and understand that it is crucial that we plan for the future.  Preparation, an attitude of “looking ahead, not behind” is a driver of most very sucessful people.

To the extent that looking back means “living in the past” by not being able to get past mistakes out of your head, or living a life of regret for past decisions, etc. then looking back is not always a healthy thing.  

But sometimes I think we dismiss the value of an honest reflection of past events.  We learn from history (or we should learn, anyway) not only on a global scale, or a national scope, but also on a personal level.  What good are mistakes if we don’t learn from them?  We do not always realize we’ve made mistakes until some time passes, and if we never look back to see how we got from Point A to Point B, then we may not like the way Point C looks when we get there.  

But looking back is not just an exercise in learning from mistakes.  It is also a valuable reflection.  There are days that are, in fact, much better understood when you look back at them and put them in context than when you are actually going through them.

I had such a day yesterday.  My dad had four bypasses and a valve replacement.  It was a planned procedure, and we thank God that he did not have a heart attack.  He had felt some pain and pressure lately and also shortness of breath.  We knew he was going in on Monday, and so all the family came up this last weekend.  Between this and other things, this explains my mini-absence from blogging lately.  He is not the first to undergo such a procedure, and he will not be the last.  We often hear that this has become “routine,” and the chances of coming through this with flying colors is much better today than it was even a few years ago.

Of course, perspectives often change when someone you love dearly is going through it.  I have known other people who have had their loved ones go through this, and it’s been easy for me to, in my wisdom, point out how great the chances are of a full recovery.   Now it’s my dad, and while I know this is the case, it was little comfort as I saw him in the ICU with tubes sticking everywhere, a tube down his throat, his leg bandaged where they removed his veins, and looking pale and waxy.   The most troubling thing for the rest of my family is that we were not properly prepared for what we would see in that room.  We knew about the tubes and all, but his coloring and skin texture was not much different from what you see in a casket.

It’s tough seeing “Superman” like that.  And I’d be lying if I said I had no doubt that it was the right thing to do to have surgery.   It probably was, though I have a hard time being completely convinced.  But that is neither here nor there at this point.  It’s done, and that discussion now falls under the category of looking ahead, and not back.

Anyway, the reason I reflect on yesterday now is because moments like this bring to mind any number of emotions which I would qualify as being in the “negative” area:  sadness, doubt, fear, exhaustion, pain, etc.   Those will hang on for a while as dad recovers and will have some rough days ahead of him.  But with a day to look back, there are also some other things that come to mind:  thankfulness for his life;  memories; a reminder of our mortality; lessons (should I change my own habits?  The answer is yes…); family (my sister pointed out that it was the first time in years that the four siblings were together without our spouses or kids.  Waiting out the seven hours definitely allowed for some good conversation and brouoght us closer together.)

I can even look back and laugh a little bit at a couple of things from the day.  After visiting dad in the ICU (he was still out of it at that time) we decided to get out of the hospital for a bit and eat dinner at Perkins Restaurant.  It wasn’t the happiest of meals, but we did OK.  My older sister, Cyndi, took a restroom break, and was crying when she got back to the table.  I hugged her and told her to hang in there.  She responded “I was fine until I saw the pie.”   My dad is known to often finish up his meal and blurt out “Pie!” as his way of expressing that he sure wished he had some pie for dessert.  I told her, “OK, now that’s funny.”

I type this up not even a day removed from the end of his surgery, and the news is great.  He has already been moved out of ICU and has visited with some members of the family.  I have not been to see him yet but will be doing so in a couple hours.

We are praying that all continues to go well.  We welcome any and all prayers.  And from now on, I am sure I will have more empathy for those families going through the same thing.

A Random Post

Originally posted at http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on March 29, 2007.

One thing about blogging is that it kind of hangs over your head a bit when you don’t get to it for a few days.   I’ve been really busy lately and it’s kind of funny how one actually start to feel a little pressure to submit an entry to the blogosphere.

In my case, it’s particularly stupid because it’s not like I have thousands of hits a day.

So, just to catch anyone up on things who may be interested, here are my random thoughts from the past week or two:

1) Woe to my Badgers.  After achieving unprecedented #1 status a couple weeks prior to seasons end, they stumbled a bit into the tournament and then lost in the second round.  It was a great year, and thanks for that, but that’s a pretty big disappointment at the end.

2) I spent a few hours over the last week reading about Lunar Cycles for my next “series” component.  Stay tuned.

3) I’ve actually managed to get a little time to work on my CD.  It’s only in it’s 7th year of progress here…

4) It really hurts when you bite into tin foil.

5) 70 degrees in March is really warm, and then the normal temperatures seem cold.   Looks like that “In like a Lion, Out like a Lamb” is on the mark this year.

6) The Packers still have not traded for Randy Moss.

7) I really don’t care who is leading in the polls right now for the next President of the United States.  Is anyone really actually thinking about that?

8 ) American Idol needs to have a one night only “Tonight, you will vote for the worst performer” event. 

9) Please keep us in your prayers.  My dad is having open heart surgery on Monday.

That’s it in a nutshell.  Between work and my Dad and Holy Week coming up and trying to get to my CD and maybe even trying to exercise, I’ll post when I can.

My Review of American Idol. Because I care.

Originally posted on http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on March 15, 2007.

You can finally dispense with all the e-mails now.  I’m about to finally give my opinions on this year’s season of “American Idol.”   You people have been very impatient.

Before I critique the actual singers, let me put a few comments on the table.  I am a musician.  I am a singer.  I am not, and have never been in the music industry, and therefore am just an everyday clod with an opinion. 

From my admittedly limited experience on the stage, I can unequivocally state that all the people on American Idol are very good singers.   What’s that, you say?  Sanjaya is awful?   Hey, not so fast here…

You see, we all heard the auditions.  And then the judges heard everyone during Hollywood Week.  These people can sing.  However, just as a well-trained opera singer would sound awful singing a Diana Ross song, what happens is that these people with very good voices just may not be able to translate an otherwise good voice to a pop stage.   It doesn’t mean they are terrible singers, but it may mean they are terrible in that setting, in which case they are not cut out to be the American Idol.

The other reason I point this out is because the judges and us are really overly critical of generally good performances.  The nature of the show is to set the bar high, and it is what it is.  But just because not everyone is Kelly Clarkson or Fantasia or Clay or Melinda doesn’t make them terrible.  This is live performance, for crying out loud.   As a case in point, I dare you to say with a straight face that the majority of guests that they have had – generally legends in the industry – ever outperform more than a handful of the idol contestants.  They don’t.  If you were listening to Diana Ross or Kenny Rogers or Donna Summer on this show for the first time, and thought they were a contestant, you’d wonder what the judges had been smoking when they decided to put them through to the final 24.

Finally, but connected with the idea above, if anyone has ever sung on stage you will know that there are times where you can’t hear everything as perfectly as you’d like.  Whether it’s your own voice or the instruments, not hearing the right mix can send you off-key, and it can be hard to recover.

I felt that backdrop is important.  Because now I move to critiquing the contestants in the context of them competing to be a star. 

The final twelve consists of six men and six women.   Let’s be honest.  The men just don’t cut it this year, relative to the talent in the female pool.  A couple guys could make it as an artist, I think, but just don’t jump out as that one star that is head and shoulders above the others.

We’ll start with Brandon, the first of the Final Twelve to get booted.   What was he thinking?   The guy wasn’t phenomenal, but he could sing.  But nothing about the song “Can’t Hurry Love” is a good vocal choice for even the best singer.  He has himself to blame for the song choice.  Now, that said, Diana Ross music night is a disaster for any number of contestants.  I know the show has always done it, and I guess people like it, but if they are seriously trying to find America’s favorite new pop star, why are we presented to two hours of music from 30-40 years ago, in a music style that nobody listens to any more, in music styles that eight of the twelve participants would never, ever do?   It really makes no sense, but again, it is what it is.

Next to go should be Sanjaya.  OK, enough of the hula-hooping, exotic hair, and female persona.  I’m not being mean here, just honest.  It’s grating.  That all aside, he is simply not cut out for the big stage and pop performance.  He just isn’t.

I can’t figure out why Phil keeps getting beat up a bit.  Of all the guys, I put him as the best vocalist.  Maybe he just doesn’t have the appearance?  Don’t know.  I’m a guy who doesn’t typically pay attention to those things, unless it’s someone with exotic hair and earing dancing like a girl, but isn’t a girl.

Chris Sligh – good vocalist.  But it’s just goofy watching him on stage.  If I close my eyes, I’m with it.  Then I open it to see some really big guy with poofy hair singing “Endlesslove” twice as fast as it should go, and I lose the connection.

Blake – definitely cool with the whole voice-percussion talent.  And he really can sing.  Not my style, but I appreciate it.

The other Chris.   Do you guys get it?  Seriously?  I don’t.  I’ve seen seizures that appear more comfortable than his on-stage twitches, which I think are supposed to be “moves” of some sort.   And vocally – average at best.

So those are the guys.  A couple deserve to go a ways, but none deserve to be the next Idol.

As for the women, it should be a couple weeks before any are at risk, but I guess you never know.

Haley: Wendy really likes her, but I don’t see much there.  A good, nice vocalist, but if not the weakest of the bunch, she’s right there.

Stephanie: Similar to Haley.  Just not all that memorable, but a real solid singer.  Actually, all the women are really solid singers, so at this point you nitpick reasons why they should go.  Steph should go because her style is similar to 2-3 others who are better than her.  At the very least, this would bring some diversity.  In this respect, she should probably go before Haley.

Gina – OK, I’m not a big fan of dyed hair, and if my daughter ever comes home with a pierced tongue, I’m going to punch a hole in the wall.  But she can actually sing.  Not in the top tier, but of all the contestants she is closest to the music I enjoy, and she does a nice job.  It at least adds a different flavor, and she should stick around a bit longer.

Jordin – I like Jordin.  Seventeen years old and a killer voice.   It bugs me a little that she gets left out of a lot of the discussion, because in her own way she’s as good as the other two that get discussed (Lakisha and Melinda).   L and M sing in a certain genre, but truth be told, Jordin is probably the best vocalist in the actual pop genre.  She deserves to make the final three if not the final two.

Lakisha and Melinda – let’s just lump these two together.  You watch them both and they are just natural.  It comes easy.  Both are awesome.   Both are similar in style.  Lakisha probably has the bigger voice of the two, but I give the nod to Melinda for personality and stage presence in addition to that vocal.

Now, some final thoughts:  Did anyone else smell hypocrisy this week?  OK, so I wasn’t necessarily crazy about Blake’s arrangement or Chris’s arrangement of the music, but come on…   How many times have we heard comments like “You didn’t do anything to make that song your own.”   So, a couple guys decide to take a song and make it their own, and they get hammered on because they messed with classics.   Make up your mind already.  Not to mention, Chris’s review was all about the arrangement of the song, with nary a comment on the vocal.  Isn’t Simon always lamenting with the words “This is a singing competition”?  Critiquing the arrangement is fair game, but at least tell the guy what you thought about the actual performance.

Finally, a comment on the voting.  I’m a math guy, so maybe the results aren’t as big a surprise to me, but think about it for a moment, and it makes sense why the “wrong” person is voted out occasionally.   The reason is because we don’t vote anyone out.  We vote to keep people in.   I guarantee that if America were asked to vote against people instead of for people, the worst people would more consistently get booted.   Now, I’m not saying that makes more sense, because in the end the order doesn’t really matter all that much and the final three are usually who they should be.  There just may be some bumps in the road getting there.  But just keep in mind when Sanjaya stays, that it’s because he’s got a bunch of 16 year old girls voting to keep him around for some reason.  If we were asked to vote against him, all the rest of us would.  Different methods – different results.  It sorts itself out as the field dwindles.

By the way, I’m not a voter.  I think I’ve maybe felt compelled to call a couple times.  I just like to watch and critique.

Thank goodness there are enough people with enough spare time on their hands who actually care enough to vote, so I have something to keep watching.

An Update on Survivor

Originally posted on http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on March 15, 2007.

As long as I waste the time to watch this stupid show, I may as well waste a little more time writing about it.

First – and most importantly – Dre (Dreamz) and Cassandra are still alive.  If you’ve followed my blog, you’ll remember that these two people are who I have in our pool at work.  It has looked touch and go at times, as Cassandra lacks ability in the challenges and Dre can’t keep quiet, but alive they are.   Woo hoo!

As far as general impressions of the show, I can’t say it’s got as many of those love ’em/hate ’em personalities as in the past, and because of that I can’t say I’ve developed a rooting interest either way.  Rocky’s an interesting guy.  At times I think he goes overboard with the vocalization, but then again he’s entertaining.  The editing was such that it looks like they’re trying to turn some of the rich women into the evil ones.  We’ll see if that continues.

The rich-poor divide hasn’t gone the way I expected.  Quite honestly, I kind of thought that the poor people would pull together a little bit out of desperation, but they just look like they’re getting whipped. 

I like the twist of putting the immunity idol right in the middle of camp.  Maybe one of the reward challenges will include a jackhammer so someone can actually dig for it.

Anthony cried.

Panic ensued this morning, as it struck me that Survivor was broadcast last evening due to the NCAA tournament.   I was later informed that there was no episode, and the next episode is next Wednesday.

 Phew!

Yao-Man is cool, but he looks like he’s going to turn inside-out if he gets any skinnier.

That’s all I’ve got for you.  Admittedly, not one of my most imaginative posts.

Doing Stuff You Don’t Wanna Do But You Should Do and are Glad you Did

Originally posted on http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on March 14, 2007.

Everyone raise their hands if you have said you’d do something, and then when that something is an hour away you don’t feel like doing it.

Really?  I’m the only one?

I’m pretty pathetic.  And lazy.  But even that isn’t a great explanation for the constant struggle I have with getting involved with outside activities.  I fear I have turned into my father.  God bless him, this is a man who still lives on the plot of land he was born on, and he plans on staying there until he’s pushing up Daisies (hopefully not for a number of years in the future).  If you told my Dad that he was not allowed to leave the farm for the rest of his days, and he’d be allowed only to read the paper and eat a bowl of ice cream for entertainment every day, he’d pinch himself and openly wonder if he’d just passed away and entered the Pearly Gates.

I have always enjoyed a certain amount of sociability.  But as I grow older, I find myself growing away from the need for sociability.  I desire little more than coming home, taking care of a few things, eating dinner with the family, and hanging around home.  Oh, and reading the paper and eating ice cream.  Granted, unlike my Dad, I do enjoy a night out occasionally, but that night out to me is much more appealing if it’s just Wendy and me as opposed to a larger party.

And yet, when I am in those social situations that I think I loathe, I invariably enjoy myself and realize that I really need it.  It’s just kind of weird, actually.  You’d think that I’d figure out that I enjoy it, and would want to do it more often.  But this is me we’re talking about, so I guess it is what it is.

But now I’ve taken this schizophrenia to a whole new level.   I now dread other things that I enjoy.  I think I’ve developed some irrational idea that anything at all – good or bad – that gets me out of routine is somehow a bad thing.   Sigh.  We’re back to the whole “balance” thing again, aren’t we?

Lately, a couple things have struck me.  I feel almost guilty confessing them, because I’m exposing myself as a selfish person who doesn’t even want to offer my time to God.  I’m in a Bible Study on the book of Revelation.  We meet once a week.  It is very interesting and well worth my time.  I learn a lot, and since this is a topic I’ve spent a good deal of time reading about on my own, I also feel that I have something to offer.  By all accounts, I should want to go to this class/study each week.

I don’t.

It never fails.  I try to come up with excuses as to why I should blow it off.  I have something to do.  I’m tired.  I’ve been busy lately.   And so on.   Now, that’s not to say there will never be times that my family won’t need me and I should put them before this class.   But that’s really not what’s happening.   And so, I go to class, somewhat reluctantly.  And every single time when class is done, I am happy I have attended.

I’m an idiot.   But you already knew that.

Even worse is the Tuesday evening commitment to Eucharistic Adoration.  Granted, it’s a bit of a drive for us and it’s from 10:00 PM – 11:00 PM.  But it’s not like I don’t stay up that late on a normal evening anyway.   And it’s not like we have anything else going on at that time of the evening.  In fact, those reasons are the very reason we chose that time slot.   And it’s a visit with our very Lord, in His very presence.

But at about 9:25 PM on Tuesday night, I’d rather watch TV.   How stupid is that?

And so on the nights where I go, I drag my feet and shuffle out the door, wishing I didn’t have to go.  And once again, at some point during the hour, I realize that I am at peace, and enjoying my time.  I realize that it is where I am supposed to be.  I feel there is little else that could have made the hour more worthwhile.

But next week, will I remember that?  Heck no.

And so it goes.  I’m not sure of the point I’m driving home here.  Maybe it’s that I’m a loser and nobody else seems to be.  Or maybe it’s that others go through the same thing.  Maybe it’s to pass on that we all struggle with things that we realize we shouldn’t even struggle with, but we do anyway.   And maybe it’s to provide some emotional support for people who beat themselves up about not having the energy to feel exuberant about participating in all good things under the Sun.   Maybe it’s to point out that we sometimes need to force ourselves into worthwhile behavior by taking that step of signing our name to the line that says “I’ll be there,” even when we know at the moment we sign that we won’t want to be there.

Just be careful when you tell someone that you’re committed.  You don’t want that taken out of context.

Six Months and a Cloud of Dust

Originally posted on http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on March 11, 2007.

It’s always an interesting dichotomy of time-evaluation when thinking about how your kids are growing up.  On the one hand, it seems like just yesterday I was driving to the hospital, shortly to be followed by saying crucial words of wisdom like “You’re doing great, honey.”  Or, “Do you really want the TV on?”  Or the ever-popular, “Here’s some ice.”  Digressing a bit, I still remember it well, when Wendy actually asked for something to take the edge off.  You must understand, this is the woman who went through five drug-free labors with kids that exceeded 9 lbs 4 of the 5 times.   Hearing her ask for something brought a level of comfort to me…   I did, in fact, marry a human being and not a human-looking alien from the planet Krypton.

On the other hand, the little guy has become such a part of our family that it seems like he’s always been here gumming our table and knocking over the waste-basket.   He’s a joy, that one.

I normally don’t like to brag about the kids.  They get enough of that from the Mom.  You can see pics of Thumbsucker and the other kids at www.thebluehouse.wordpress.com.  (I just like to type words.  Sue me. Fortunately, she enjoys loading pics.  Maybe someday I’ll get hit with the same bug.  Not today.)  Despite my reservations for ushering in praise to the equation, I must say that the little squirt is an amazing piece of work.  All children are, of course, but of all the kids we’ve had he is reaching his milestones much quicker than the others.

Some examples:  He has learned origami.  You should see the rose he made just the other day. 

OK, I’m joking (in case anyone actually took that seriously).  But in the last month he has gone from laying around and sticking his buttocks in the air to all-out crawling, sitting by himself, and being generally annoying with his habit of getting into anything at floor level.  In addition, he can pull himself up to a stand, and is coordinated enough to stand there and reach and get into things on the couch or coffee table.  This has burned us more than once, as we have become accustomed to his newfound abilities and sense of adventure.

I fully realize that this means little in the long run.  All kids develop at their own pace, and our other kids lagged all this by a month or two, so we’ve been caught off-guard.

I will always be in awe of our participation in God’s creation.  I am in constant awe of how each kid can have their similarities, yet have their own unique personalities.  

Happy half-birthday, son.

Crazed Chipmunks Attack Toilet Seats!

Originally posted at http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on March 4, 2007.

This post has nothing to do with Crazed Chipmunks.  This is a little strategy I am borrowing from the first WLS Animal Stories album, released many moons ago.  As Uncle Larry explained to Li’l Tommy, after Tommy questioned why he had used the term “Crazed Chipmunks” in a story headline that had no actual crazed chippies, “That’s a little something we call ‘sensationalism,’ Li’l Tommy.  To make these stupid stories sound interesting.”

I needed such a title for this post, because I have nothing concrete to ramble on about.  But I felt obliged to update my blog, and so the real concept I’m going for is more along the lines of “My life in the last few days.”  But who in their right mind would read a post titled that?  And so, if the title grabbed you and you are now reading this, I ask you – why not keep reading?  What can it possibly hurt?   Please forgive the false advertising.

Since my last post, I have nothing real eventful to pass on, but stick with me, because I firmly hope that I can make this stupid post sound exciting, as Uncle Larry might say.

Firstly, my daughters both graduated from their next level in ice skating.  This is wonderful news.  If I may digress, allow me to share my own story about ice skating:  I went with the family a couple years ago.  I sort of kind of made it around the rink once.  I have never gone again.  My feet still hurt whenever I think about this experience.  I wake up in cold sweats, fearing that my stay in Purgatory will be at an ice rink. 

Work this week was quite busy.  I’m preparing numbers to be reviewed by auditors.  Yeah, this is my favorite time of the year, kind of right up there with being told to bend over at the doctor’s office at the annual physical. 

I read the book “Not by Fire, but by Ice,” by Robert Felix.  I have mixed reviews.  This could be one of the most well-researched books I’ve read, written in a way that’s easy to read and interesting, while at the same time being a terrible literary work and logical flow of argument.  I get what he’s saying in many ways and I think it makes a lot of sense, but at the same time he gets a little carried away with some of his examples.  There is an immense bibliography in the back of the book which I wish was much better referenced in the actual text.  He believes we’re headed for another ice age, despite all the flap about global warming, and he presents a ton of research.  If I were aiding him in writing the book, I’d organize it completely differently so that it would be more coherent, and in that I think it would aid in its credibility.  That said, it must have been interesting because I had a hard time putting it down.   He has an interesting website which is just as packed with random information that supports his viewpoint, but is terribly organized and has somewhat of an unprofessional appearance.  For anyone curious, it’s www.iceagenow.com.  Felix is not a scientist, he’s a writer.  He just has an interest in the subject and has done a lot of research and compiled his findings.  For those who think this lends questions to his credibility, then you should realize that this is exactly what the IPCC is, as well.

Speaking of Ice Ages, we received two feet of snow this week.  We now have more snow on the ground at one time than any time in recent memory.  We were invited to a sledding party today at our neighbors and friends, Gary and Rose’s place.  Great sledding hill, perfect sledding day, great people, and great food. 

I bought a couple Green Spotted Puffer Fish this weekend for our home aquarium.  I admit, I had no clue whether or not that was a good idea, since I’d never researched them.  From what I’ve now read, they can get a little nasty if I don’t feed them enough, but their diet is a little trickier than the other fish where a pinch of flakes is all they need.  They’ll eat everything, but do best with some meat (worms, crustaceans, etc.) and should be given some hard-shelled snails along the way in order to wear down their four teeth, ensuring they don’t overgrow.  I read that if the teeth get too long, the owner will have to cut them back because the fish can reach a point where they can’t eat.  Yeah, right – I’ll get right on that one.  If the teeth get long enough that they can’t eat, then they can chew on rocks and wear their own teeth down.  If they aren’t smart enough to figure that out, then adios.   Now, lest you think I’m being a little hard-hearted, let me assure you that I will try to find some snails.  Secondly, let me remind you that this is a fish.  We catch them and kill them and eat them everyday, all over the world.  Our ultimate destiny in life does not in any way hinge on my new Puffer Fish.

Thumbsucker learned to sit up without propping himself this week.  He also learned to pull himself up into a stand, which is proving to be somewhat hazardous.  After bumping his head and having it swell up like half a grapefruit, I am pleased to announce that the doctor thinks it’s nothing serious.  She lost me a bit, though, with her comments about how “intelligent” he is.  He’s not even six months yet.  By definition, he cannot be intelligent.  Plus, if he truly were that intelligent, I wouldn’t have been standing in the doctor’s office at that moment.  Boy, we’ve really lowered the bar on our expectations.

I bought a curling bar.  The excitement around here never ceases.   My plan is to actually use it some day.

A couple months ago, I picked all the sprouts off our potatoes.  They grew back.  I am finding that I am developing personal animosity towards these potato sprouts.  I am now trying to pick off the new sprouts.  If I imagine that I am inflicting pain, it makes the time pass more quickly.  I read that if you toss in volumes of dried Lavender, Sage, and Rosemary it can help reduce sprouting.  It would have been nice to know that before my potato bin looked like an episode of “Invasion of the Body Snatchers.”

Admittedly, I’m reaching now.  Like you care about potato sprouts.  They’re poisonous, by the way.   I marvel at nature.  A potato can be eaten, but the thing that grows out of it is poisonous.   Huh.   I’d hate to be the one who figured that one out.

Until next time, watch out for those Chipmunks.

Headin’ to the Shedd

Originally posted on http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on February 26, 2007.

As you have probably figured out by now, I don’t exactly dwell in the big city.  We live in the country outside a relatively small community.  It’s the kind of place where you question what the heck is happening if there are more than 4 vehicles at a traffic light.   I greatly enjoy the stress-free lifestyle of the smaller community.  It fits me perfectly (i.e. I can sleep late and then scramble to take a shower and brush my teeth and almost make it to work on time without worrying about traffic delays).

But every now and then, our adventurous spirit overtakes us, and we are inclined to visit one or both of my sisters living in the Chicago area.  And so we did this last weekend.  Our primary purpose was to visit the Shedd Aquarium.  We had gone there last March, and it was only a few dollars more expensive to buy a full membership for the family as it was to pay admission for the day.  We thought, “heck, we’ll get back here again no problem.”  Of course, that didn’t happen, so in order to get our money’s worth on our membership, we decided to pay too much money for gasoline and head on down!

Friday afternoon was a half day on my part, in order to get going right away.  A mere two hours later, we were on the road.  “Getting going right away” means something different than it used to with six kids in tow.  And we didn’t even eat lunch.  But in the spirit of the event, I had a surprise waiting for them.  In heart-healthy fashion, I handed out Pringles.  They love me.

After a quick detour to finally pay off my truck’s engine fiasco and our new oak table that seats 400 people (thanks to my tax return), we were on our way.  Our trip started with a Rosary for a number of intentions, including safe travel.  It’s about a 3 and a half to 4 hour trip to my sister’s, depending on traffic and weather.  But never underestimate the most dangerous delayer of time – the potty break.  Two such breaks were required on the way down.  It drives me insane, because I let it.  I end up saying stupid things like “You’re never drinking anything again!”

After needing to sell my winter coat in order to pay for tolls, we made it to my sister’s home (an BIL’s).  Cheese Pizza awaited, and life was good.   When we awoke on Saturday morning, we ate a quick breakfast and went to the Shedd.  The first thing that must be done is to suck on a tank of oxygen while I get acclimated to driving in a big city.   Oh, I have done it before, and I lived in Milwaukee for a summer.  I know that you get used to it and all that, but when you only head down once or twice a year, it’s a whole new world of driving fun.  I always wonder if anyone actually knows who’s honking at whom.  But we made it safely and parked under the parking structure where the hated Bears play their football games.

The goal of my children differed throughout the day.  Thumbsucker, of course, had no clue what was going on, but did really well.  The two year-old was fascinated by all sorts of things that you would expect little boys to be fascinated with.  The goal of the three-year-old was either to lag 15 yards behind at all times, or run in front of the stroller and get rammed in the back.  And one would think that a sand shark swimming directly in front of you would be much more attention-grabbing than a red button on a box.  Not to the three-year-old, though.   I’m not sure he actually looked at an animal the entire time.  But he loved every button on every display.  The older kids had more of an appreciation for the creatures we were seeing.

It never ceases to amaze me how short the attention span of a kid can be.  We were at the Beluga Whales exhibit.  “Can we see the Penguins?”   So we go the the Penguins.  “I wanna see the dolphins!”  So we go to the dolphins.  “Where are the Sea Otters?”   At this point, I forced them to stand there and watch the dolphins.

Since we got in free, we decided to go eat lunch at the restaurant and spend twice as much as we should have.  The upside is that it was more relaxing than the cafeteria.  Then, because we didn’t pay to get in, we bought stuff in the gift shop.  And there’s a lesson here…   If you want to save money, pay admission.  Sheesh.

Back to sis’s, we enjoyed some interesting conversation.  For example, the sis tried selling me on the merits of undergoing colonic hydrotherapy.  According to her, John Wayne had 44 pounds of, well, crap in his intestine when he died that accumulated over the years.  This may seem like an unusual topic of conversation, but it’s really the norm for my family.  I’ll spare you the details on how this hydrotherapy is performed.  But then I learned that soaking nuts and seeds in water, and then sprouting them, and then eating the sprouted seeds and nuts are good for me because of some magentic life-force that is emitted.   I asked why it matters that the food I eat is giving off a life-force, to which I was told that I shouldn’t want to eat something that’s dead.  I asked her if I should eat my beef while it’s still alive.   Then, my Brother-in-Law talked about the impending ice age while we watched hockey.

There’s nothing quite like good conversation with family.

Traveling back on Sunday was a treat.  We returned to the second largest storm of the winter – the largest occurred the weekend we traveled before Christmas, which is another story.  Another Rosary was said on the drive home.

All in all, a nice weekend with the family.  And if you’re ever in the Chicago area, I highly recommend the Shedd Aquarium.

A Tip of the Hat to the Homeschool Dancers

Originally posted on http://digitaldiatribes.wordpress.com on February 20, 2007.

This last Saturday evening I had the distinct honor and privelege of having presided over what could only be described as an unmitigated disaster from a technical standpoint.  But before I get into that, allow me to take this opportunity and provide a glimpse of my personal history for all my loyal fans (you know who you are, you two).

Back in the days when I had some hair and didn’t huff and puff after climbing one flight of stairs – those dandy high school and college days – I was in a rock band.  Not just any rock band, mind you.  I mean, we were gonna make it big!  As an investment in my future, I purchased some Yamaha speakers that were the size of a small oven, and weighed approximately eight tons, and we collectively purchased a power amp.  The sound wasn’t all that great, but that hardly mattered, because they were loud.  And loud is what matters when playing rock and roll (that is more important, in fact, than playing correct notes).

Well, I also collected a lot of music.  To feed my hunger for more and more music,  I started using this little system to DJ.  It was a perfect scheme.  DJ a gig, get paid, go buy a bunch of music so I can DJ more gigs, etc.  I basically netted zero, but the music was not looked at as an expense in my eyes.  It was gold (I admit to harboring an irrational attachment to my music collection).  Eventually, life forced my to cease and desist DJing, but I held on to my system.  And it may be apparent to those paying close attention that our rock band never hit the big time.  For the last few years, my speakers and amp collected dust.

Fast forward to a month or so ago, when my wife came home and told me she volunteered me to DJ a Father-Daughter dance for the homeschoolers.  Now, this is funny in and of itself.  A bunch of Moms thought it would be great to have Dads and Daughters share an evening of dancing together.   And I’m not disagreeing that it’s a nice thought.  But I don’t think the Moms understand the genetic coding of the typical American male.   Through the grapevine, I heard some of the conversations the guys had with their wives.  “I don’t know if I want to go there and sit around and talk to a bunch of guys I don’t know that well.”   (To which I responded, “I thought the idea was to spend time with your daughter.”)  Another comment was “Do I need to talk to people?”   Ah, yes.  Clearly, us men have an issue with the whole communication thing.  The funny thing is, when we’re all together, there really isn’t a problem.  It’s the whole leading up to the date and thinking about needing to say something to somebody that leaves many of us in a cold sweat.  Not to digress too much, but that’s why men consider watching a game in silence with other guys a pleasant evening, while women look at us and think that we’re being unsociable.

Well, in the end it was realized that there was some resistance to this whole Dads-only idea, and in addition a few guys had a men’s retreat that weekend.  So, it became a family affair (which turned out to be a great decision). 

Now, for those of you who don’t DJ, it may seem as simple as just playing some music.  And a DJ today purchases equipment to make life a lot easier than the old days.  A good system today could be run from data files on a couple hard drives and CDs would be ripped to files.  But since I don’t do this for a living, and haven’t done it for a long time, and since this was a volunteer activity, I had to go old-school.  My 25+ year old P.A. system was to be used with a CD player and a tape deck.  Two days of pulling and sorting and setting music (and listening to lyrics to make sure all songs were appropriate) would be done.  It is not simple, and it is very time consuming to prepare all the music – especially when you haven’t gone through your collection.  I cannot tell you the blessing that the database was that I posted about a few days ago!  Check that post out to see what I’m talking about.  (https://personaldiatribes.wordpress.com/2008/11/12/the-music-database-none-of-you-care-about/)

But then, the events which would cause much angst and heartache ensued.  My CD player froze the afternoon of the dance.  It would not play anything.   This forced me to go to Best Buy two hours before the dance started in order to buy a new one.  I was hoping for a simple, one-CD, bare bones component.  Apparently these simple items are not even worth stocking these days, because the cheapest and simplest version was a 5-CD changer, that just isn’t all that great for DJ purposes.  And it cost me twice what I wanted to spend, but I was kind of stuck, so I took it.

I arrived, and set up the equipment.  On the test run, I noticed that the music sounded “tinny.”  The woofer in one speaker was not working.   The other speaker was distorted because it was compensating for the other.  I was forced to go to one speaker.  OK, it’s a homeschool crowd, not huge…  we’ll live with it.  Or so I thought.

As testing continued,  suddenly the music cut out.   After multiple tests and different cords and switching outputs and inputs, I realized that the problem was inside the amp.  There must be a short or something.  But the show must go on.  I announced that there may be some occasional outages, and please bear with me.  Meanwhile, I’m getting upset that all my equipment seems to be dying a slow and painful death. 

Soon after that, however, every song was cutting out.  It was terrible.  Nobody could finish a dance.  It was so bad that I finally had to bring out my boom box and use that.  People were dancing around a stupid boom box, struggling to hear the music.  It doesn’t get much better than that.  

 Oh, but it doesn’t end there.  Supernatural forces were clearly at work on this night, because when I tried to play a tape in the boom box, it ate the tape.   I was now relegated to playing music on a boom box using only the CD player.  It was an absolute disaster of a night.  It couldn’t get any worse.

Except for one strange thing…  while it may have been a system and technical disaster, it wasn’t a disaster of a night at all.

God bless these fine homeschoolers.  Had all these things happened with most groups – yes, even as a volunteer – I am sure there would have been disappointment or even anger.  After all, this was to be a special night.  Everyone dressed up, the gym was decorated, people had set aside the night on their calendars, and it would have been easy to let all these mishaps bring the mood down.  (I must confess, I am a perfectionist when it comes to music – and my wife will vouch that it’s the ONLY area where I am a perfectionist – and I was angry and frustrated throughout the night)

These wonderful people not only continued to dance and have a good time, whether it was music from the P.A. or from a simple boom box, but they even made me have a good time despite everything that was going wrong.  Instead of complaining about my failed equipment, they thanked me profusely for the effort and for providing the music.  With this crowd,  the glass was seven-eighths full instead of two-thirds empty.  

I can only speak regarding our homeschool group, but I have been in a number of social circles, and I can tell you that these are special people.  These are Catholic homeschoolers (and I should not fail to mention other wonderful friends who are not homeschoolers that had the invitation extended to them as well) and they are teaching their kids the faith, scholastics, and providing a daily example of how to live as a child of God on a daily basis.  They are an inspiration, and I value their friendships. 

They put me in such good spirits that when my tape-case zipper broke at the end of the evening as I was putting my equipment away, I was forced to laugh.  It was a fitting end to a memorable night.

To any and all of you who were there, a big Shout Out from me to you.  We are motivated by your example in our own homeschooling and child-rearing efforts.  And to those others out there who are also homeschooling and trying to live and grow in your faith, bless you in your efforts!   And to those who are not homeschooling, but find it important to raise children in a way that is contrary to a culture that says it’s all about self, then God bless you as well, and may you be successful in battling all these influences around us.

As a final note, this evening brought the end of an era.  The speakers and amp have been permanently relieved of their duties.  I donated them to a local music store in town.  I feel like I just donated a kidney, but that soon shall pass.  At least that’s what my therapist says. 

For more information on our trials and tribulations as homeschool parents, check out my wife’s blog at www.thebluehouse.wordpress.com.   You can also see our wonderful family at that site: http://thebluehouse.wordpress.com/our-family/.