Another Year

I remember a New Year's Eve long ago. I was standing at the bottom of the stairs, getting ready to head up to go to bed. Dad shut off the dining room lights and then he shut off the living room lights as well. It felt strange to be downstairs when everything was dark like that.

We climbed the stairs together, up out of the darkness and into the softer glows of the nightlights in the hall and the bedroom. As Dad put me into bed, I remember he said, "Well, I'll see you next year."

How long ago was that? How many New Year's Eves have passed? I don't know. Maybe fifty or more?

Funny how I remember something like that.

Every year, on New Year's Eve, I say the same thing, usually to Sam. I don't know that he thinks it's especially clever, but I say it anyway.

And I remember...

I hope that the year past has treated you reasonably well, and I hope that the coming year treats you even better.

At the Movies

Jake, Sam and I managed to see the new Star Wars movie together today. This was showing at the local theater, the same one where I brought the kids to their very first movie years ago. Jake has seen this movie, I think twice before today. For Sam and I, it was the first time.

Even though I read about the movie before going, including spoilers, I had a good time. It was made even better with the woman behind us repeating every third line that was in the movie and when she wasn't doing that, she was helpfully stating the obvious throughout, as though she were somehow directing the whole thing. No doubt doing she was doing this as a public service for those of us that go to the movies even though we are not only hard of hearing, but also blind.

As an added enhancement to the entire experience, one of her little spawns felt it necessary to be constantly kicking the back of my seat. I didn't mind it so much when there were explosions going off on the screen. But for pretty much the entire rest of the movie, it got to be a little, shall we say, annoying.

Still, I had a good time- a good movie and even better company. We'll have to do it again next year.

Post Christmas Post

The Christmas repeat at Grandma's was everything I expected (almost) and more, way more- more people, more volume, more food, and more people. The only thing I got wrong from my previous post I think, is that Rachael went along for the Family Fun-time Activity. This year, it was rollerblading!

Sam stayed back at Grandma's with me and even though I didn't partake, it was still exhausting. It was a long, long day.

Over the River and Through the Woods...

We'll be off today for Christmas, Part II- the annual event that's held at Grandma's house. Over the years, this event has grown as the family has grown. Years ago, when the kids were small, the place was packed- but somehow manageable. Now, depending on who can make it, the place is either bursting with people, or nearly exploding with people.

It reminds me of when I was a kid and there would be the occasional visits to my grandparents in Worcester- the ones where the extended, extended, extended family would show up. I would spend at least half of the visit trying to figure out who all these people were, while simultaneously trying to avoid them.  By the time I developed some small level of comfort with all of them being squeezed along with me into the small house, it would time to for us to go home.

I think this year is a Nearly Exploding year. To make matters worse, it's raining outside. Years ago, snow would often be on the ground, and the snow offered a respite from the indoor claustrophobia by allowing the kids and some of the adults to go sledding and maybe have a hike through the woods. Today will be too wet and rainy for any of that. And anyway, it's been too warm lately- meaning that the bears that occasionally lumber out of the woods in the summer to have their way with Grandma's bird feeders, are not yet asleep- and therefore, they would instead be having their way with us (and by "us", I mean "not me"- so maybe a walk is not totally out of the question).

In years past, with the now snow-less ground, the now grown kids would go out for a Family/Cousins/ Who Are These People activity. One year, this was bowling, another year it was indoor rock climbing. This year, I heard mention of some possible rollerblading- but I know Rachael, at least, will not be attending. She has already told me that if the others go out for an activity, she plans on taking a nap. While I would like to chalk this "nap" idea up to her carrying on our proud family tradition, it has more to do with her having to catch a bus home from New York at 6:00 in the morning, for the second time in four days.

But no matter what happens, I expect it will still be fun, at least for a little while. Fun, that is, for almost everyone except maybe Grandma. While we all get to leave at the end of the day and go home to our quiet abodes, Grandma will already be home- and be left to deal with whatever people inevitably leave behind- such as my ten pounds of smoked kielbasa which I have no intention of bringing home if people don't eat any of it.

So, as we speak, Rachael is on her bus, heading back home for the visit to Grandma's, and soon we'll be on our way too- over at least one river, but not through the woods - not today anyway - unless it gets real bad in Grandma's house. But if it does get bad, I wonder who I could encourage to go on a little walk, and I wonder if any of those bears would like some kielbasa?

Merry Christmas

It wouldn't be Christmas without this!



And here's a bonus, just for you...

My Gifts

I've already had my Christmas. Anything beyond this is a bonus.

From the Waiting Room

Are we now at a point where we need, not only regular butt sized chairs- but also butt & a 1/2 sized chairs?

Looking Forward

Thanksgiving is behind us and Christmas is almost here. And except for a couple of stragglers, I have almost all of the presents, such as they are, wrapped and ready. I’m looking forward to Christmas this year- not for the presents, but for the company, and the opportunity to relax for a little bit.

I've been fairly swamped these last several weeks. It hasn’t just been the holidays, it’s also been dealing with issues having to do with Sam. “Issues” really isn't the right word for it. It makes it sound like he’s some kind of a problem, which he certainly isn’t, but for lack of a better word, that's what I'll use for now.

All of these “issues” have to do with Sam’s special needs and his transitioning into the so-called world of so-called adults.

Most of this started several weeks ago with some outside testing done through his school. I think I mentioned it, at least in passing, in one of these posts around here somewhere. On my end of it, it consisted of filling out just shy of a dozen questionnaires, totaling somewhere around 1500 or so questions. This, along with thorough testing by Sam, resulted in a lengthy and detailed report that talked about many aspects of Sam- his strengths and his areas of difficulty.

It's the kind of report that someone like me has to treat like eating a big meal- I read it, and I have to step away from it for a while, in order to digest it- and then I can come back to it and do it all over again. The difference between this and a big meal is that I often lose a lot of what I had done before. It takes me a lot of readings to be able to absorb and really understand what’s in front of me. This report, the hope is, will be helpful in whatever educational services are left for him and hopefully, it will be helpful in whatever transitions lay ahead.

Along with all of this testing, I've started meeting with the Mass Rehabilitation Commission or, MRC. Don’t ask me what the MRC is because I don’t know enough about it to answer the question. Yes, I’ve looked it up, and yes, I’ve asked, but much like with the report, I’m still in the process of learning and absorbing and hopefully, understanding.

Sam had one intake meeting already, and I went along, and I’ve had several conversations with the coordinator. This, in turn, has led to more forms and questionnaires for me to fill out- some for the MRC and some that the MRC has given me for something called the DDS.

The DDS is also something I'm also not familiar with. About all I know of the DDS so far is that in order to apply, I need to get Sam an official state ID. This, naturally, has become quite a process as well. To get Sam the State ID, we'll have to go to the state RMV, and we'll need to bring certain specific information to meet their very specific requirements. There are three categories in which he needs to provide information. He needs proof of his date of birth, proof of his residency and something that bears his signature.

While these categories were easy enough to find on their website, finding out what meets their very specific requirements was more difficult. As difficult as they were to find on the website, it turned out that they're easier to find there, than it was to try calling the RMV and ask someone for some help- that is, unless you have about three hours of time to waste.

I made the mistake of trying to call the RMV and I got locked into their automated “Help” system. Naturally, none of the options they gave me met my questions, so after several tries down the wrong rabbit hole, I unfortunately had to attempt to talk to an actual person. When I finally managed to get to the correct automated operator, I was instructed that, because of the “backlog” they suggested leaving a callback number and the best time of day that I could be reached. This was given with directions on how to punch in the numbers for the time of day, after which I was supposed to press the pound key.

For some reason, every time I got to the point of punching in the time, it brought me back to the previous, previous menu, and I had the start all over again. Eventually, I managed to get out of that loop and reach another menu where I attempted to once again reach a real human, only to be put on hold. A recording told me that due to the current backlog, the wait time was approximately an hour and 45 minutes. I went back to the website.

Back at the website, I finally found what it was that I needed in order to prove that Sam actually existed, and it turned out that now that I know where to look, it’s pretty easy to find.

Of the three categories of required information, finding something that met their requirements for a signature was the most difficult. He doesn’t have a Merchant Marine Card and he doesn’t have a Marriage Certificate. He also doesn't have a Firearms Card, a Passport or a Lease or Loan Contract. It said he could use a cancelled check, and normally I would think that this would be the easiest to provide. But the problem is, he can't get a checking account because he doesn't have an official ID.

They will accept a Social Security card, as long as it has his signature on it. We found his Social Security card, unsigned, and so I made a couple of copies and I had him practice his signature a couple of times before signing the official card. He did fine on the copies, but he hit a bump on the official card when he started to misspell his last name. Panic set in- for both of us. Visions of now having to apply for a New Social Security Card as well were not something I wanted to add to the mix. But I think we got the signature fixed well enough, and after the holidays, we'll see how this goes at the RMV. But in the mean time, I still need to fill out their forms, and then it will be back to focusing on the forms for the MRC.

The woman at the MRC has been asking for a questionnaire that was sent home with us from the intake meeting. Sam and I had been struggling to get through this double sided, poster sized form over the course of three nights. When I told the woman that we went as far as we could go, and how I thought that it wasn’t a very good fit for Sam, it came out that this wasn't the questionnaire that she has been asking about. This double sided, poster sized form was only if Sam found it to be "helpful" (he didn’t) and the one that she’s been asking about is one I can’t find. I suspect that I filled it out already- and handed it in with the other questionnaires to the woman who did his previously mentioned testing. So now, the MRC will be sending a new copy and I can fill out all over again.

While waiting for that to show up, I'll continue to muddle through the RMV forms and Sam and I will go onto the DDS forms.

Along with the DDS and the MRC, I've been told that I should sign Sam up for Social Security. Like everything else, I don't really know what this means. I know what Social Security is, at least I think I do, but I don't understand the whole process or have a good grasp on what the expectation is. As I did with the RMV and the MRC, I went on their website, but it was too much for me- at least until I get these other things out of the way.

We're also exploring options for his next year of education. It's looking like he's not going to be at the same school where he has spent the last five years and I don't know exactly where he will be in the fall. There is another program, this one a year long, that we’re looking into, but I'm told to wait until the end of January and then call for a tour and an interview. We'll see how that goes.

At some point soon, it will be time for another IEP meeting.

And while all of this other stuff is going on, I’ve had to back-burner the issue of guardianship until some of these other things can be cleared out of the way- but it's on my mind a lot.

On the bright side, in a semi-panic, I called up a local agency to see if I could get some direction and help in prioritizing all of this. They had some suggestions and if nothing else, it sounds like waiting on the guardianship until after the DDS process is further is along is a good idea. I have no idea why, but at least it puts things in some kind of semi-order.

So, I'm still buried in questionnaires and forms and acronyms- RMV, MRC, DDS, IEP,- it’s all one big morass. But in the end, I figure it has to be worth it.

I think the thing that bothers me the most about all of this isn’t the time and the work. It’s that I have no idea what I’m doing. I feel like I am feeling my way down a dark, empty hall and there’s a fire somewhere behind me- and when I eventually reach a door, I go in- even though I don't know where I am or what to do.

But this, like usual is just me complaining. Thank goodness Christmas is almost here and I'll have a little break.  I’m really looking forward to a little company.

Rude Awakening

Today was the second Monday in a row where I woke up thinking it was Sunday. Last Monday, I woke up before my alarm went off, and I glanced over at the clock, pulled the covers up, closed my eyes and thought about how good it felt to be able to sleep a little longer. Gradually, it kind of dawned on me that something didn’t quite feel right.  

Despite my best efforts, I slowly started to recount the things that I did over the weekend- which wasn’t difficult because I never do a whole lot. It began to dawn on me that the math wasn’t quite adding up. I gave into the idea that it was indeed Monday and my five A.M. alarm was set to go off in another twenty-five minutes.

A similar thing happened this morning, except this time, the alarm actually went off. I slammed down the snooze button and closed my eyes, disgusted at myself for setting my alarm on a Sunday. As soon as I closed my eyes, I thought, "Wait a minute..."

I think it's going to be another long week.

That Time of Year

I know I've said this before, but I really love this movie. I skipped it last year because it's not Sam's thing, and I wasn't going to make him watch it- but I didn't feel like watching it alone. I don't feel like watching it alone this year either, but I would like to see it again.

So, here's the thing. I'm going to post it here and you can watch it, or at least, I'll pretend you're watching it, and I'm going to watch it too.

And I'm going to pretend we're watching it together.

Today's Video

If you have some free time, you can take the next ten hours to watch some paint dry.

Monk Night

Sam and I started to watch monk together- probably somewhere around two or three months ago. It started out as me watching it, while Sam was on the computer. After some time, Sam started to notice. At first, Sam would occasionally turn around in his chair and look over for a minute or two, then turn back to the computer.

After a couple of weeks, he would get up, approach the edge of the living room rug, and watch for a few minutes, sometimes asking a few questions- before returning to the computer. When this became more of a routine, I suggested that maybe he think about sitting down next to me and watching some of the show.

Part of the idea behind this was to expose Sam to something that was a little bit more mature than some of the shows he was currently watching, but was still safe and wasn’t threatening. “Monk” seemed like a perfect show for this.

The other part of the idea behind all of this was that I enjoy spending time with Sam and this was a good way to do it.

Sam joined me and it became a routine. I think we were 4 or maybe 5 weeks into this routine when they stopped showing this on TV. Both of us were disappointed. I decided I was going to go online and look and see if I could buy the entire series somewhere.

As luck would have it, my luck anyway, the series was no longer available. That led me to eBay where I bid on a brand new set of the entire series- which I won. But in my desperation, I way overpaid for it. Also, as my luck would have it, the exact same set was available on Amazon about two weeks later- as a Lightening Deal, no less.

Still, it was worth the sacrifice. The set showed up about a week after ordering it, and the very next Friday night, Sam and I were back in business.

Since then, every Friday night, Sam and I turn it into an event. Actually, it really starts on Thursday night. On Thursday night, when I'm putting Sam to bed, he reminds me that "Tomorrow is Friday. That means “Monk Night!”

So, on Friday nights, after we take our showers, Sam and I have popcorn. I sit at the end of the couch with pillows at my side. Sam lays down against me, munching on his popcorn and commenting all the way through the program.

Sam and I are somewhere about half way through the fourth season- which puts us close to half way through the entire series. I have no idea what we’ll watch after we’re all the way through this, but I’ll have to come up with something. I don't want to lose out on our Friday nights together.

I would post an episode here, but I'm having a hard time finding one of any quality. I'll keep looking, though. In the mean time, here's a short, but interesting clip of an interview with Tony Shaloub...



On another note, I'm happy to report that there are currently limited sets of the series available on Amazon- and they are not only considerably more than their Lighting Deal, they're also considerably more than what I had paid on eBay. I'm feeling pretty good about that. Buying the DVD's when I did was a good investment after all- for a lot of reasons.

My Nemesis

Grey Kia is back. I don't know where she's been, and frankly, I hadn't even missed her. I didn't even realize that she was gone- until this morning.

This morning, I was traveling along my dark, winding and rainy route to work, and I was thinking about how, as much as I don’t like the rain, how I’m glad it’s not snow. The commute is long enough, but when it’s snowing, my fifty minute commute can turn into a seventy minute commute.

So, I’m driving along and I'm pretty much alone- at least for the first half of the nearly hour long trip. But somewhere after my half way point, I get behind another fellow commuter and eventually that commuter comes up behind someone else. No big deal.

But then things start slowing down.

One by one, more cars gather behind me. In front of me, the trail of red brake lights stretches far ahead, snaking over the rolling hills like a slow motion roller coaster. “What is going on?” I wondered. “We’re past the point of getting stuck behind a school bus.” I strain my eyes, looking through the rainy darkness to see if I can make out the head of this slow moving snake. And then it hits me. "Oh no! Grey Kia!"

Sure enough, I could make out the dark outline of that cube shaped snail at the head of this bottleneck and I knew I would be locked into a slow motion commute for the rest of my way to work.

One by one, the cars in front of me dropped off- each making their escape to their different destinations. And with each car that escaped to freedom, I got closer and closer to the head of the snake. Eventually, it was just me and Grey Kia- and the fifty or so cars stuck behind us.

It had been months since this last happened. I don’t know where she had been this whole time, but seeing her again stirred up an abundance of mixed emotions within me- emotions like dread, hostility... and dread.

I took this photo of grey Kia many months ago, intending to write a little something about her. But I never got around to it and eventually she completely dropped off my radar. And the thing is, I hadn't even realized it. It's a little like having a festering splinter in your finger that bothers you day after day until one day you realize that it's gone and you can't even remember when it popped out. But this festering sore has apparently popped back in.

Now, I was once again stuck behind Grey Kia, putting along at an extra safe 10-15 miles an hour below the speed limit.

I thought again about the impending winter commute and I wondered how it would be possible to go even slower and still be moving. And I feared that, unfortunately, I'll probably have the chance to find out.

Brief Recap

I don't know whether I am tired from Thanksgiving or whether I'm tired in preparation of Christmas. Most likely, I'm tired because I'm always tired in general. 

Thanksgiving was hectic, like it usually is, and like it usually is, it was hectic in mostly good ways. It was all so hectic in a few not as good ways, but that's not worth spending any time on. 

There is nothing I like better than the family being together and I like nothing more than cooking a big meal for us to share and them to enjoy. Along with celebrating Thanksgiving, we also managed to squeeze in getting a Christmas tree on the day before Thanksgiving, and decorating it after the meal was over. 

I was going to say we decorated the tree the next day, but I then checked the photos I took and saw by the date that we decorated it Thanksgiving night. That's the kind of weekend it was.

Somewhere in the all of that we also managed to squeeze in some visiting- visiting with each other and visiting with Grandma. 

Like a lot of these holidays, they go by in a whirlwind.

Today's Video

Making Plans for Tomorrow

I have to go to the hospital tomorrow and get my throat scoped. The hospital has called a couple of times- once for per-registration and and then later to confirm my appointment and let me know that pre-registration was going to be calling me.

Both times, they stressed that I needed to have a photo I.D. with me. I feel like this has happened before, and I don't get it. Why is this? Have they had a rash of people pretending to be someone else, in order to get a free throat scope? Do they think I'm going to skip out and send in a ringer?

They also told me to leave all my personal belongings at home. I don't like the sounds of this. Aside from the obvious conflict of a photo I.D. being a personal belonging, I found this rule to be vaguely disturbing. It's like they don't want any evidence hanging around when things go south.

I feel like maybe I should bring a Sharpie so I can write my home address on the bottom of my foot.

Other Things I Collect

It’s time for me to get a new phone. This has been coming on for quite a while. When the phone is off, it’s hard to turn it back on, and when the phone is on, it’s hard to shut it it off. That, plus the battery never fully charges and it is always running low- much like myself.

I don’t mind so much giving up the phone. What I mind is giving up all of those text messages stored in there. Right now, I have 439 text messages- many of which are several years old. If you wonder why I have so many, the short answer is that they’re all from the kids.

The longer answer is that the phone has become kind of a pocket diary. I can look back on each one of these messages and remember that point in time.

I have messages from Rachael and Helaina asking me to pick them up at work. I have messages from Jake asking me to pick him up from the band building.

I have messages from each of them letting me know they’re on their way home. And I have messages from each of them letting me know they've reached their destinations safely- Boston, Louisville, Miami, Montreal, New York, Narragansett, and more.

I have messages of good news- a lost iPod that has been found, the promise of a new job, an apartment that has been secured. I have messages that tell me about their day, and I have messages that share their problems and their fears.

I have wishes of Happy New Years and Happy Easters, and wishes of Happy Birthdays.

I have texts about snow showers and meteor showers. I have texts about an eclipse.

I have a “That's Nice!” and “You have fun!” from Sam. I have “Oy’s” and “Huzzah’s” from Jake. I have “:)’s” and “:D’s” from Helaina, and “Oh crrrrruuuuuuuelllll wooOOOOoooOoOoOooOOOrrrld” and “xo xo’s” from Rachael.

Most of all, I have the “I miss you’s” and the “I love you’s”. I  look at all of theses messages, but I look at those "I love you's" a lot.

It’s hard to give these kinds of things up.

It's why I've saved 439 text messages.

On the Rocks

My life can be measured in rocks. I have rocks all over my house- both inside and out. I not talking about the everyday rocks that you dig up in your yard. I'm taking about rocks that have been collected over the years, both bought and found.

For example, there’s a rock out in the garden that came from a family vacation in Maine, probably about fifty years or so ago. It’s a nice looking rock, mostly because it's smooth all around. It's not something that necessarily catches your eye. It's pretty but not flashy. Some people notice it, but most people don’t.

When I look at this rock, I remember standing in the water with my family and my Aunti Anna, collecting a bunch of these smooth rocks to bring home. I also think about the cabins we stayed in, way back then, and I think about some of the other places we all went together. Maybe some of those places were on that very same trip, maybe not.

I think of this rock, sitting in my garden, far away from it’s original home. And I think about how far this rock has traveled over the years- first, from Maine to the home I grew up in, and then, after they moved, to Mom and Dad's other homes. Eventually, it found a home in my garden, where it is today.

While many of these gathered rocks sit outside, most of the rocks, at least the ones that I’m thinking of, are inside my house. Some of the larger rocks are ones that I bought many years ago at an indoor flea market.

The flea market ran all year long, on Sundays, inside a first dying, then finally dead, mall. We went to this flea market almost every Sunday with Mom and Dad and my sister, Sandy. By the time Helaina was born, we continued to go- at least for a while.

I would carry Helaina around in one of those carriers on my back. And I remember there was an older couple there that sold rocks and minerals. And each week, I would look through their collection- often buying one or two of their rocks.

After the flea market, there was the ride back to the apartment, where we would get a bite to eat. Helaina would go down for a nap, and while she was sleeping, the rest of us would show off our newfound treasures.

A year or so later, this pattern continued, now with Rachael along as well. I would walk through the crowded flea market halls, carrying Rachael in front of me, while Helaina rode on my back. Over time, for whatever reason, we cut back on going quite so often. But I still have the rocks that I bought there.

Some of these rocks sit on a shelf in my hall. They sit along side of other rocks collected over the years- a geode that I bought in Rockport with Dad- when I was in junior high, and rocks from gem shows I went to with my kids.

All of those rocks are unique. Some of them have bright colors while some are less flashy. Sometimes people notice them and comment on them. When I look at them, I see more than their colors.

A few of the rocks from my sock drawer.

A lot of my indoor rocks are smaller and less flashy than the flea market rocks. Some are tucked away in my sock drawer or in various bowls that sit on my shelves.

These rocks come from places like my driveway or parking lots or along dirt paths. There’s a mixture of these rocks. Some have little spots of mica in them that reflect when you hold them in the sun. A couple of them are quartz, and although they’re rough, you'll see that there's a luster to them, if you take the time to notice.

A "meat eater" from Helaina dated, 7/94.

And that’s kind of the thing about these kinds of rocks. There isn’t an obvious beauty to them. You have to look closely. These would not catch the eye of most adults. To notice these kinds of rocks, I think you need to be a little kid- because little kids look at the world differently than adults do.

Adults go wherever it is they’re going, but little kids will enjoy the journey. They'll look up at the clouds in the sky and the leaves on the trees, and they’ll  look down and see the toads and insects hidden along their path. And they'll discover rocks beneath their feet and they'll see something special in them. And if you're lucky, they'll share these special rocks with you.

When the kids were a little older, sometimes we would drive to a spot along a nearby river, and we would park and explore the riverbank. Mostly though, we would just throw rocks into the water- seeing how far we could throw them and listing to the "plunk" sound they made when they hit the water. After a while, we would leave the river and we would spend the afternoon driving around, looking for another adventure. Mostly though, we would talk about how much fun we just had.

I have several jars of polished rocks around the house. These are beach rocks that were carefully selected over several years worth of vacations. A few years ago, I bought a rock tumbler and Sam and I started polishing these rocks. There was something almost magical about transforming these rocks. They were already smooth and pretty. But after polishing them, their colors had more depth and they looked wet, just like when we first found them on the shore.

Many years ago, Jake and I started going to an annual rock and mineral show. Back then, it was held at the local high school. Over the years, going to this became something of a tradition. We would always come away with a treasure or two or more. Most of these rocks are now in Jake's collection but there's a couple of them sitting on that same hallway self that hods some of mine.

As Jake got older, and his other commitments became more frequent, it got harder and harder for him to make it to these rock and mineral shows. I still went to these shows, alone, but the rocks didn't seem as interesting. I still go every year, sometimes alone, sometimes with one of the kids, if they happen to be around.

There are many more rocks around the house, holding many more memories than just the few I've mentioned. And this is one of my big problems. It's not just these rocks. I see memories in so many of the things I hang onto- old ticket stubs, little scraps of art, even some threads from when Sam used to used to pull at his socks in bed at night. Each one of these things is like a bookmark from a specific place and a specific moment in my life. And all of them are from a time I shared with someone else.

Great Pieces of Art

Here are some works from the extensive artwork collection in my bedroom.. Let's start with this masterpiece...

I may have posted this one before. And if I haven't, shame on me. This one deserves to be posted multiple times. The title on the back of this one is, "Rachael Lying on the Beach" and it's dated October 1994. It may have been the beginning of autumn, but for Rachael, summer was still going strong.

Here's one from Jake...

This one, as you can see, is titled "The Wham Team". I wrote it down for him, under his direction.  Clearly, this fierce competitors are not to be messed with. There's no date on this one but I'm guessing it's somewhere around late 1995.

Finally, we heve this classic piece of literature from Helaina. This one is dated November 1994...

I went to the ice cream store.

I Went To the Ice Cream Store. By Helaina

Me and my dad went to the ice cream store.

My dad had vanilla and I had chocolate chip.

Me and my dad went home to play games.

My dad helping me...

...ride my bike.

I made this heart with daddy.

I can ride my bike.

As I struggle to clean up my room, you can probably look forward to more of these at some point in the future. I have about twenty year's worth under my bed.

More Late Night Music

Q & A

Q: How many days in a row can I eat pickles and canned chicken for my lunch?

A: Four... so far.

In Today's News

There's this story.

No Charge

I got an email last night from my credit card company. The subject line read, “Action Needed: Please confirm you made this purchase.” The purchase in question was for an airline ticket, on Jet Blue. Anybody who knows me, as apparently my credit card company does, knows that I’m about as likely to purchase an airline ticket as I am to purchase dance lessons.

The email said that the purchase was declined, and down below, it asked if I recognized the purchase. There was a green button to click for “Yes”, and a Red button for “No”. I stared at this for a few minutes wondering if this email was in itself a scam, so I decided not to click either button. Instead, I called the credit card company, using the number on the back of my card.

When I called, I got the automated greeting and it asked me a series of questions, beginning with the last four digits of my account number and I had to punch the numbers in on the phone. Then it asked me for my zip code and then my date of birth. I punched in the various answers and eventually it asked me to to punch in the first three letters of my mom’s maiden name.

Obviously, at some point, I set this up as one of my security questions. The problem was, where all of the previous questions involved punching in numbers, this one involved punching in letters.

I’ve run into this once or twice before. When I answered something like this in the past, I didn't know whether I was supposed to press the phone buttons like I was texting, or if I was just supposed to press the button once if the letter was anywhere on it. Whatever I did before, I remembered I did it wrong. I just couldn't remember what it was that I did.

So, I went for the gold and just pressed each button once, and sure enough, I got kicked immediately into their Fraud Department. Apparently, they knew why I was calling.

After a minute or two on hold, due to the fact that each of their Fraud Representatives were busy helping other scam victims, a real person got on the line and asked me more security questions.

Once she was satisfied that I was who I said I was, we got down to the heart of the matter. Yes, somebody tried to purchase a plane ticket, and no, it wasn’t me. And no, my card wasn’t lost, so someone has my information- but not my card.

The Fraud Rep asked me about a few more recent purchases, running down a couple that I had just made. Fortunately, they were all ones that I recognized. I thought later that maybe someone smarter than myself would have denied those purchases too, but I’m not smarter than myself.

Originally, my account was going to get canceled and they would send out new cards- hopefully to arrive in the next three or four days. Maybe. I wasn’t particularly crazy about this idea.

This is the only credit card I own. Years ago, I also owned a Sears charge card. I must have gotten it through a promo, because I think I only used it once. I still carried it around in my wallet, though. Eventually it got brittle and cracked into pieces. I used to get threatening letters from Sears saying that they would cut off my credit if I didn’t use it- which I didn’t, so they did. Now I just get desperate emails from them asking me to buy SOMETHING.

Anyway, she agreed that I could still use this current card with a few stipulations. First, I could only use the card “in state”. This, to me, meant that the scammer was likely someone out of state- thus narrowing the potential suspects down to several billion people.

The other stipulation was that I could only use the card in “face to face” transactions.

“So, does this mean I can’t order anything online?”, I intelligently asked. “Yes, that's what it means.” she said, “That’s not a face to face transaction.” I wanted to ask her if I could buy gas, because technically, a gas pump is not a face. But then I thought that maybe now was not the right time to get into a further discussion of this "face-to-face" concept.

We finished our phone call and I started a list of all the accounts that I would now have to update once my new card arrived- places like Amazon, Express Scripts and others. And as I was making this list, I wondered which one of these trusted friends of mine had betrayed me-and which ones I was now going to hand over all of my updated information to, so that they could do it to me all over again.

When I got done making the list, I went online to look at all the things that I now couldn’t buy. Before this happened, I had no desire to do any online shopping at all. I had been "looking forward" to another typical night of doing nothing but sitting on the couch and listening to the paint peel.

But now, I felt constricted (restricted?). It was a lot like when you have to have a fasting lab the next day- where you can’t eat for an entire TWELVE HOURS starting the night before, and so you can only think about how much you want to be eating and how much you can't, and why does this have to happen to me and how come the whole world has it better than me, and why is life so unfair.

Actually, it was exactly like that.

So, after talking with Rachael and briefly to Jake, I sat on the couch and listened to the paint peel and thought about my hidden enemies and plotted how I could exact my revenge- pretty much like every other night. Also, like every other night, I gave up and went up to bed.

Somewhere around 11:45, a ringing awoke me from my deep sleep. After a few futile attempts of slapping away at my alarm clock, I realized that I should been slapping the phone.

I never get a call in the middle of the night and I never want to. It can only be bad news- or a mistake- or a telemarketer- all various forms of bad news.

It turned out that it was the same friendly Fraud Rep that I talked to before. Through my stupor, I understood her to ask me if I had just made an over nine hundred dollar purchase from Amazon.com. My heart raced. Did I get up during the night and uncontrollably start ordering stuff?  I was pretty sure the answer was "No". Maybe this call was a test. Maybe she was calling to see if I really knew what a "face to face transaction" was.

I told her that I hadn’t made this purchase, fairly sure that I was telling her the truth. I explained to her that I understood from our previous conversation that this would have qualified as a "NON-face to face transaction"- thus displaying my full grasp of the concept. I could smell the gold star.

She asked me a few more question, which I can’t remember. Then I stumbled back to bed, where I tossed and turned for quite some time.

As I lay there in bed, I felt a little bit violated, and not in a good way. I wondered about those purchases. How did they get my information? Who buys nine hundred dollars worth of stuff on someone else’s card? Did this guy have a list of stuff ahead of time, waiting for this opportunity, or was he just "stuffing his pants"? Maybe most importantly, since he was on my dime, was he paying full price or were these Lightning Deals?

Why not let some of these transactions go through, I wondered. I wouldn't pay for them, of course. But then they could have the FBI dress up as UPS men and deliver the merchandise and then catch the “perps” red handed. A near seamless plan, near as I could tell. I regretted not having come up with this plan when I was on the phone with the Fraud Rep. I'm sure it would have meant another gold star.

This morning, when I checked my email, I found I had one from Amazon.com. It was telling me that a suspicious account had been opened up using my credit card- which they have since closed and cancelled all pending orders.

I expected more phone calls today, but so far, there have been none.

Three more days to go until the new card gets here. Three more days. Until then, all I can do is wait.

I think about that plane ticket.

I wonder where that plane was going.

About Today

I am currently sitting in a small coffee shop in Northampton, waiting while Sam has some testing done. The reason I'm in this shop is because it is the only place I know of that’s close by which has free WiFi. Normally, when Sam has testing, I stay right there, but today, this testing was to be "one on one" and about four hours long.

I’m fine with waiting in the waiting room, but there were few magazines, and the ones they had were several years old. I didn’t think to bring a book. I only brought my tablet and when I asked the person doing the testing if they had a guest WiFi, she asked me what WiFi was. I didn't bother pursuing the question any further.

Current events- circa December 5th, 2011

I went around the corner to this coffee shop where, in order to not look like a WiFi freeloader, I ordered a coffee and a breakfast sandwich, one which, I didn’t realize, contained no meat.

The coffee shop is filled with a mixture of people. There are younger folks which I would describe as a mixture of hip and hip-ish. Most look to be college age. I say that, not only because this is a “college town” but many of them seem young- they walk briskly and smile often- indicating to me that their spirits have yet to be broken.

There are older people here too. These older people are people that I’m guessing are about my age. I say this partly because, like me, they clearly have no idea what hip really is, but unlike me, they seem to be struggling to appear like they have some clue

There are the women, with with their stiff, crispy looking skin- subjected to either too much time in a tanning salon or too much Botox or- some desperate combination of both. There are the men, some wearing sport jackets- as if that were still a normal thing. And there’s a guy wearing both a scarf and a fedora as if this were some kind of fashion statement that said something other than “ I look like a fool and I wish I were young.”

Over the speakers, the song “One” is playing. It sounds a little like Harry Nilsson, but it isn’t and the fact that I know who Harry Nilsson is but I don’t know who is singing this version, tells me I don’t belong here.

I finish my meatless sandwich and I’m thinking that it’s about time to move on. I’ve been sitting here on a stool, facing the the window, for far too long. Anytime I’ve happened to look outside and make eye contact with someone strolling by, they stop, look at me, look up at the sign- and then move on. It’s making me uncomfortable. I go back to my car and move it to another spot.

---

Hey Northampton, thank you for allowing me to park on the fourth floor of your parking garage, so I can walk all the way down to the street level, only to return and find that my entrance to the parking garage is blocked off, making me walk around the other side of the building to another entrance, where I walk up three flights of stairs and find that the ticket payment machine is blocked off, then walk back down the stairs to the ground level, where the other machine is located, then walk back up the stairs to the fourth floor to get my car.

It’s lucky that I’m not someone who has a bad knee or a back that was killing them. Otherwise, I might start to get a little frustrated.

Come back soon!

 ---

With Sam still at testing, I go to visit Mom for a little while. I have a really nice visit, but it felt funny driving away and leaving Sam behind. He had his cellphone and I made sure he had a strong signal before I left, but it felt like I was leaving one of the kids at school for the first time.

---

Sam finishes his testing and looks tired. He finished all the snacks that he and I packed before we left this morning. I talk a little with the woman doing the testing and she gives me a stack of papers to bring home and fill out.

Sam and I stop at Walmart on the way home- Sam’s suggestion. I suggest that he checks out the Yugioh cards and I pay for a few packs. We stop at the supermarket on the way home and Sam gets some chicken strips and french fries for a late lunch / early dinner.

Now, back at home, Sam eats and relaxes a little- checking out his Yugioh cards. I watch him for a while. He’s tired, but he doesn’t complain. I may not know what “hip” is, but I know what cool is. And Sam is a lot cooler than I will ever be.

The Falling Rain

This day started off chilly and raw. An intermittent rain has been falling since I left for work in the predawn darkness of the morning. I love the fall, but I forget about these parts. I forget how cold and raw the rain feels on mornings like this.

I don’t mind that the darkness intrudes longer into these mornings, but when these dark mornings are coated with a light rain, it can be downright depressing.

It always seems like a slow, steady rain can make a night- or in this case, a morning, seem even darker than it already is. Somehow, my headlights seem dimmer as they strain to light the way in front of me, but the headlights of the cars behind me seem so much brighter than usual.

I think it's going to be a long day.

More Reasons I Like the Fall

Picking fruit on a beautiful fall day and magically transforming it into delicious food. 

Rachael's work of art.

Our first apple pancake of the season.

Minor Update

Light posting this week. I've been juggling between two fairly major meetings involving Sam, and after last weekend, returning to my empty nest.

The Busy Weekend

I'm not going to say a lot about the weekend- even though I had a great time. I'm not going to talk about how nice it was to have the entire family together, and how a few short years ago, something like that was an everyday. It was special then, as it is now.

A friend at work asked me how the weekend was. I told him that I had a great time, and he asked me what I did. I went down the list. I told him about how I picked up Rachael on Thursday evening and took her grocery shopping and how, on Friday, we ran errands, including closing a pesky old bank account.

I told him about Jake and Lauren coming home and spending the night, both Friday and Saturday. I told him about Helaina being home on Saturday and Sunday and I ran down the usual Saturday errands that I ran with Sam. And I told him about the apple picking we all did. And I mentioned swinging by Mom's a couple of times.

My friend looked at me as if to say, "And... ?". I don't know whether it was because he was waiting for the "great " part, or what he was thinking.

I realized later that I never even mentioned the birthday party or going to the comic book store or any number of other things. But the details really don't matter. What matters is we had a chance to spend some time together, and, like always, that was really what made it so great.

Unanswered Questions

This was spotted on one of my trips to Dollar General with Sam. I have a few questions about this.

First of all, how does a company decide to go into the Glow-in-the-dark poop making business. Are there a bunch of board members sitting around the conference table, brainstorming over what their next great product should be? Did the idea start off as just regular poop and then, to make it “better”, someone came up with the high-five worthy idea of having it glow in the dark?

How does this get produced? Is each one squirted out of some machine over a conveyor belt thus making each one unique- like a snowflake. Or are they made from a mold? If they're made from a mold, they must have gone through some process of having to do mock-ups- each to be evaluated by those same board members.

I feel bad for that mold maker. It’s not his idea to be doing this. He’s just following orders. I hope he earns enough to be paying off his student loans from all of those years of art school he probably attended.

Do these things ever touch human hands? However these things are made, how do they get packaged? I picture poor, Chinese laborers sitting on either side of a conveyor belt, having to grab one glow-in-the-dark poop at a time and package it up. They must have a quota they have to meet. Do they get reprimanded for not bagging enough poops per minute? And how do these workers feel when they go home at night? What do they think about? I wonder if this could this cause them to think less of us as Americans.

At some point, salespeople have to get people to buy these things.
  Salesman, opening his briefcase: “Let me show you our latest line of poop.”
  Manager: “Not interested. I already have some on the racks.”
  Salesman: “Yes, but is it Glow-In-The-Dark Poop?
  Manager: “...Well, no… actually it isn’t. This sounds like a winner! Let’s start with a thousand units!”

The sad thing is, I don’t think these are selling at all. I took the above picture several months ago. When Sam and I went to the store the other day, it looked almost exactly the same. Perhaps it is the choking warning that is scaring people off, or perhaps it’s because the manufacturer has limited their market to people above the age of three. Maybe. But I think the problem is more basic than either of these reasons. I think there’s an inherent design flaw in this product.

While making a glow-in-the-dark version of pretty much anything is almost always a good idea, it seems to me it’s counter productive in this case. The whole idea of buying fake poop is not for the poop itself- it’s for the shock value of fooling someone into thinking it’s real poop. With fake, non-glowing poop, you can leave it on the floor next to a toilet, in someone’s lunch bag- pretty much anywhere, and the reactions are almost guaranteed to be hysterical.

But with this glow-in-the-dark version, I don’t think so. And here’s why.

When I first saw this, Sam and I were browsing through the store, not really looking for anything in particular. I was strolling along, looking at the various high quality items strewn across the shelves- and then I came upon this thing. For a second or two, I was standing there thinking “What the hell is this?” Then I noticed the label.

And this is the problem. I think the same thing would happen “out in the field”- especially with no label at all. In pretty much any situation that I can think of, people might stop when they see this thing sitting somewhere, but not because there was a poop where it didn’t belong (hilarious), but because they would be trying to figure out what they were looking at (not hilarious). Jokes are never funny if you have to explain them.

This, to me, is a giant faux pas by the fake poop industry. I’m guessing that all of this could have been avoided if the manufacturer had gone through a rigorous research & development process- like one of those tests where scientists and engineers sit in a darkened room on one side of a one-way mirror, while on the other side, a test subject is led into a sterile looking, white room- containing nothing but a table and a chair- and a lump of glow-in the-dark poop. I’m guessing that something like this never happened.

I feel kind of bad about it. There are a lot of people who put a lot of effort into getting this lump of glow-in-the-dark poop onto store shelves. And sadly, there are a lot of people whose livelihood depends on producing vast quantities of fake poop every day. But these things aren’t selling.

I picture this thing surviving long after mankind has disappeared.

---

The planet is desolate - long since ravaged by war and pollution. An alien probe lands and scratches at the dusty brown earth - digging through the rubble - searching for signs of life. Eventually, this is what it finds.

The specimen is gingerly picked up by the probe’s claw, and then bagged and taken to the alien home world, where it is probed and tested.

What happened to the specie that produced this? Were these beings intelligent? Were they killed by war? Perhaps it was it their diet. The questions remain unanswered.

Eventually, the specimen is sent to a museum where it is placed on a shelf, protected by a glass case. Accent lights shine down on the case and velvet ropes separate the artifact from the curious visitors. One by one the aliens shuffle by and study the foreign object. And one by one the aliens ask themselves, “What the hell am I looking at?”

A Touching Thing

When I sit on my couch, I can look to my left and see the computer, and I can look to the right and see the tv. In the evenings, while I’m on the couch, Sam is usually on the computer, with headphones on, watching anything from Disney cartoons to Loony Tunes to video game run-throughs.

I’m watching tv last night and Sam is watching his videos and a commercial comes on the TV. It’s a Geico Insurance commercial, the one where Kenny Rogers is sitting around playing cards and annoying the others by singing “The Gambler”.

“That’s a nice song”, Sam says from the other side of the room. He was turned around in his chair, facing the tv, with his headphone half off. “He’s a good singer”, he says.

“Yeah? You like that song?” I ask. And I tell him who it is and what the song was and Sam says, “Hmm, I might look that up.” But he goes upstairs and takes his shower.

A little while later, Sam’s back downstairs, in his bathrobe, back on the computer, eating some grapes. And I look over and I see that he’s watching “The Gambler” music video by Kenny Rogers and he’s kind of tapping his foot along with it as he’s popping grapes in his mouth. A few minutes later, I glance over again and I see he’s watching another Kenny Rogers video. A few minutes more go by and I hear Sam say, “Huh, I guess Kenny Rogers is retiring.”

I tell Sam that I had heard the same thing too, and I ask him where he heard it. Sam points at the computer and says, “I watched this video… and he said a touching thing.”

---

Epilogue

Sam's Videos:

Question of the Day

Why is Sam walking around the house wearing a sweatshirt that says, "Bong"?

Under the Moon

I got a text from Jake just after 9:00 last night. I was reminding me of the eclipse. Sam was already upstairs brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed. I had him put on his slippers and bathrobe and together we went out in the back yard and watched together.

After a bit, we went back in. Sam climbed into bed and as the eclipse progressed, I went back upstairs and peeked into his room. Not sure of whether he was asleep or not, I whispered quietly into the darkness of his room and said, "It's almost full. Want to look again?"

Sam threw his covers off and leapt out of bed. "Sure!", he said. He put on his slippers and we went outside together again, where we watched the moon and talked in whispers- until it was time for us to both go to bed.

Going for a Ride

Somewhere, buried way back in here, I mentioned how I never see any of those coin operated kiddie rides around anymore. Well, as luck would have it (luck?), I spotted one of them on my way into a supermarket the other day.

When I passed the ride, it didn’t hit me and I almost walked right by it. I did a double take and went back to take the photo. I was thinking at the time that it was too bad that there wasn’t some little kid riding it- so I could get a shot of the thing in action. In hindsight, I’m thinking it was probably better that there wasn’t some kid on it. A weirdo standing around, taking pictures of little kids they don’t know, probably isn't the greatest idea.

Here's a photo I took of Helaina and Rachael riding one of these kinds of rides. This little merry-go-round was one of several of these kinds of rides which stood in front of the mini-golf which in turn stood forever in the center of Hyannis. I remember taking this picture, but even more clearly, I remember the feelings of that moment.

Even without the photo, I can still feel the enjoyment of watching them have fun on this ride. And I remember wondering if they would still be interested if were were able to come back a year later. And I remember wondering what events might take place in the time in between.

Going on these rides was a little bit different down at the mall or at a nearby store. I didn't really think about those things. I guess that was because the rides were nearby and that made them more a part of everyday life- and everyday life evolves a page at a time. But annual events, like vacations and holidays- they change by chapters and volumes.

The girl’s interest in this ride lasted another year or so beyond when the photo was taken. Jake’s interest was only slightly longer and Sam was only interested in these kinds of things when they weren’t moving at all.

Their changing interests in things like this happened so gradually that it was hard to notice at the time. Other interests washed on shore and took their place as older interests drifted away, never even leaving a void- at least never leaving one that was apparent at the time.

P.S....

With Sam's cold coming on, I went upstairs last night to make sure all the windows were closed. That's when I realized there was something I didn't like about Fall- storm windows. Pretty soon, it will be time to take out the screens and wash and put in the storm windows.

Fall is still my favorite season, but I could do without the storm window routine. It's one of my top three least favorite jobs around here (or should that be "bottom three"?).

Changing Seasons

Sam came home from school today with a nasty cold. I think he might have come down with it last night, but I can't figure out how. It was a nice day yesterday, but we spent the day indoors- and he showed no sign of anything being wrong. But last night was another story.

Sam's developed this habit of clearing his throat- sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. I haven't been able to figure out what the reason is for it, whether it's stress or whatever. While it's usually only occasionally, there are times when it gets frequent enough, and then I'll sometimes ask him if he needs some water. He almost always says no, but it kind of cues him in to be conscious of it- and I hope in a subtle way. I'm not looking to get on his case or make him feel bad. I just don't want it to become a habit for him.

Last night when he went to bed, there was a lot of clearing of the throat.I finally got up and asked him if he needed a glass of water and, unlike usual, he said yes. He followed me into the hall and drank it down and then climbed back in his bed. I covered him up and he quieted back down, but it took a while.

This morning, before I left for work, I stood in his doorway to say goodbye. Usually he stirs and rolls out of bed and stumbles wearily over to me and then gives me a hug before I leave for work. This morning, nothing. He was still asleep. I should have figured something was up, but I chalked it up to him being up so late the night before.

Today, when he called me to let me know he was home from school, his voice was tired and croaky. On the way home, I stopped and got some medicine, just in case. Sam and I had made some chicken soup several weeks ago, and since I have the awful habit of cooking about ten times more than I need of anything, most of it ended up in the freezer. Tonight, it was his dinner.

I was just saying the other day, how much I love the fall- with the pleasant days and the cool, comfortable nights. I had forgotten about the colds.

When the kids were small and the new school year had just begun, at least one of them would come home from school with a cold they picked up from someone else- and it would spread through the house. I can't say that's what happened here- since he came down with it on a Sunday night. But where ever it came from, I guess on the bright side, there are fewer of us for the cold to spread to- not that it helps Sam any. At least we have plenty of chicken soup.

Another Year...

... another County Fair gone by.

We started off this year like we always do- by going to the main building and checking out the displays of produce and flowers and photos and crafts- each proudly (presumably) submitted by their creators... or growers (in the case of the produce and flowers).

The displays, largely of fruit and flowers, cover the downstairs of the main building, while the crafts, photos and artwork are up in the balcony. The balcony is pretty narrow and it can be hard to get around up there when it’s crowded, but fortunately we’re usually pretty early (you're welcome) so the crowds are usually not too bad.

First, Second and Third place ribbons are given out for a multitude of categories for just about every type of thing entered. More often than not, it’s a complete mystery as to why certain things were considered ribbon-worthy while others were not. By rights, I should be pretty angry that I have yet to win a ribbon, but then again, I have yet to enter anything either.

After checking out these so-called “adult” entries in the main building, we checked out the so-called “Kids” entries in the smaller building off to the side. I have no doubt that most of these entries are made by kids, but clearly, not all of them are creations of a child. It is obvious that some of these kids were likely helped along by the “guidance” of an “involved” parent- just like when I was in Scouts (By the way Mom, thanks for that shell display- even though I didn’t win anything for it).

After perusing the kids entries we checked out the wildlife displays- some containing actual wildlife, and then we went over to look at and pet the baby barnyard animals. From there, it’s a stroll through the barns of vendor displays- largely containing an inordinate amount of furnace salesman, along with the perennial “pro-life” people (or “anti-choice”, depending on your perspective), and also the lonely looking bathroom remodeler. The fudge people were there again this year too, but I didn’t get any.

I’m not sure why I go through these buildings. With the exception of buying some fudge once or twice over the years, I don’t think I have ever bought anything from anyone in there. If anything, I always make a concerted effort to avoid all of them. It makes absolutely no sense, yet I do it every year. But, hey! it’s the fair- and I guess if I don’t avoid them now, I won’t have another chance to avoid them until next year.

After running the gauntlet through these vendor halls (using my patented don’t-make-eye-contact technique), was outside to fulfilled another treasured annual tradition of eating a nutritious late breakfast (or early lunch) of a giant tub of french fries- fresh out of the deep fryer.

The weather had been threatening all day. And while it was kind of rainy, the rain was light when it was there at all. Usually, it was just threatening to rain. I think the rain would have been an issue when the kids were small. They liked to go on a lot of rides, so the rain would have meant either Wet Kids, or Disappointed Kids- most likely both. But in the last few years, the “kids” have been fewer, and so the amount of rides have been fewer. In fact, last year Sam expressed zero interest in going on any of the rides. This year was slightly different though- but not by much. Helaina and Jake went on a total of one ride together (well, almost), and Sam almost didn't go on any.

I asked Sam about going on the Ferris Wheel with me and I almost got an “Ok” from him, almost but not quite. Even if he had agreed, I don’t think I would have gone through with it. I managed to get him on it a couple of years ago, but he was clearly uncomfortable with the whole experience. I’m all for him trying new things but it’s not like we’re at Outward Bound or something- he’s at the Fair and if he’s not having fun, what’s the point.

But the Ferris Wheel was a non-issue when Sam found out they had the bumper cars this year.These are his favorite and he was disappointed last year when they were nowhere to be seen.

So we walked over and convinced Helaina and Jake to go on as well- despite the on-again off-again rain that had left the metal floor with puddles in spots. I was pretty sure that the professionally trained amusement ride operator would never allow the ride to proceed if there was even the slightest risk of electrocution from the high voltage that must be running through that thing, so they handed the guy their tickets and went to select their cars.

It turns out, there was a girl already waiting to ride in one of the cars and she was someone that Sam knew from years ago. Back then, Sam would often get frustrated with her, but it had been a few years since he last saw her. Things change. He was happy to see her and she was very happy to see him. I don’t know whether he offered or she asked, but they rode in the same bumper car together.

Afterwards, he said goodbye, and made our way back, stopping for our usual cotton candy and fried dough- and then we headed home. Next year, I assume, we’ll be back to do it all over again- in the same pattern- in some combination of family members.

I doubt I would be going to the Fair if the kids weren't around. Like a lot of things, it’s never really been about where I am- it’s always been about who I’m with.

People sometimes rank on the fair as being kind of hokey- people, including me. But the truth is, I’m glad that I live in an area where something like this is a big deal.

And when, or if, there comes a time that I’m no longer going to the fair, I think there will be a certain sadness but also a certain comfort in knowing that the fair is still going on- that there are still little kids that are thrilled to win ribbons and see the baby animals; that there are young families buying french fries and going on rides and watching pig races and then going home tired- all the while, each of them making memories for tomorrow.

Looking down from the balcony.

Multitudes of  produce.

Sam checking out his ribbons.

Helaina checking out monster beans (sorry, I forgot to take a photo).

Jake trying to steal a bunny from the Baby Barnyard (Just kidding! No lawsuits, please.)

The ever popular Mobile Leather Shop. Notice it contains the " World's Largest Belt & Buckle Collection". Worth the price of admission to the fair- all by itself!

Yes, there is even Gourmet Catering! How do I know? Because it say so right there. Offering gourmet delicacies such as, Chowder, Pie A LA MODE, Meatball Grinders, and yes, even water! By the way, this is not where we bought our Tub-O-Fries.

Heading down the midway, waiting for the Tub-O-Tries place to open.

Taking pictures of the duck who wouldn't stop quacking.

More pictures of the duck who wouldn't stop quacking.

Wrapping up the Livestock portion of the Fair.

Making it through the smells from the Livestock portion of the Fair.

Enjoying a hearty, all natural late breakfast!

Watching the pig races.

Sam and his friend.

Having the thrill of a lifetime- for one more year.

And, for the last word...