June 24, 2008

Clint Eastwoodness

The men in my family seem to have a Clint-Eastwoodian sense of right and wrong. And like Clint we're not afraid to mete out a little justice when the situation calls for it. I'm not necessarily talking about big things — we've got law enforcement agencies to take care of those items and if we were to be honest they don't want us in their way (not that that ever stopped Clint, but he had a bevy of writers working for him).  Also the things they deal with don't always impact us in a manner that leaves us saying, "I wish I would have done this or that… then."

Several years ago Granny and Big D (my mom and dad for the newer readers) were in a fast food place; my children were with them. At the table next to them was a group of young people who were using language, in a conversational tone, which my dad didn't think he nor his dining companions should be exposed to. Dad gave the young people a few minutes to note they weren't the only ones in the restaurant and maybe reign the cursing in. When that didn't happen he slapped his hand down and in his authoritative-booming-dad voice said, "That's enough of that." I honestly think when I heard this story it was told with dad slapping his hand in the middle of the foul-mouthed-patrons' table. In any case, the cursing stopped and the conversation turned more toward the rudeness of the big old guy; they seemed to be clueless that tossing "fuck" around between French fries might put some people off. I believe that conversation was held as the foul-mouthed-diners filed out of the restaurant. 

Another time Big D was at a campground and overheard a father tell his son, "Michael, don't run off and leave your sister," and assumed it to mean maybe little Mikey had been running off and leaving his sibling to run crying after him and that Mike's dad was tired of it. The next day Big D was at the campground's carryout and saw Michael and his sis buying snacks. After the little boy paid he made a dash for the door leaving his sister at the counter. "Michael," dad said, and the kid froze, "don't you run off and leave your sister." And he didn't. And if your name is Michael and you were anywhere within three counties of my dad that day you didn't run off and leave your sister either. Such is the power of my dad's dad voice, will, psyche and Clint-Eastwoodness.

In the above examples he isn't exactly stopping bank robbers but he did make the world better for anybody who didn't care to hear thoughtless kids tossing F bombs over lunch and for a little girl who was buying snacks. And I'm certain he could stop bank robbers if the situation ever arose: "You, with the gun! That's enough of that! Give the money back!" 

You may recall my frustration with idiots who text in theaters and the steps I've taken to keep that behavior from being a bother to those of us who came to watch a movie. And my possibly-poorly-thought-out chasing down of people who yell at me while biking (though I maintain that may eventually keep idiots from yelling a someone else and distracting them to the point they crash into the ditch… oooh, that's a weak one). And there was the shopping cart incident that I can't find the entry to link to.

Hmmm. Maybe I'm just an asshole.

Anyway, this past Sunday, Samson and I rode our bicycles up the bike path and then to the local carryout for refreshments. At the door of the carryout was a very young brunette gal who politely stopped us and asked if we had any "spare change for gas." The brunette was likely somewhere around 20, perhaps just under 18 or just over 22. Having a choice of tossing a twenty at her or three ones, I gave her three ones; I figured I'd give her two more after Sam and I had our drinks.

While Samson and I paid, another patron asked the clerks if they knew anything about the gal panhandling outide; one of them got on the phone to the owner.

The carryout emptied except for Sam, me and two clerks. As we sat sipping our pops the young gal came in, apparently having gotten all the money she needed, paid for her gas and asked for a pack of cigarettes.

"I gave you that money for gas," I boomed from where Samson and I were sitting. The clerks turned and looked at me though the brunette appeared not to hear.

My thought was the brunette and I had a verbal contract of sorts. She asked for money for gas and I gave her some. She did not ask for money for cigarettes and while I'd have happily bent the contract to allow for snacks and a pop, tobacco products fall outside of my contract bending. I'm guessing the gal could have argued the point that while she'd asked me for gas money she'd asked the next person for cigarette money and they'd tossed some cash at her — I don't think Perry Mason would have believed it and neither would I, but it didn't matter; she wasn't interested in arguing her point so much as she was scurrying out of the carryout.

"That was really good," said Samson, more about the boomyness of my voice than my oddball sense of right-and-wrong.

Later, when he told his brothers about it he said, "Dad sounded just like Big D."

[I was just the smallest bit irritated with the brunette because I expected honesty from her. I've given seemingly-intoxicate homeless folks money "for food" when they've asked me even though I've suspected they might use at least part of it for Thunderbird; that was my expectation and it was my hope they'd buy at least a little food. (I've bought food for people too, rather than hand off cash — it depended on the situation and my fatherhood status at the time.) "Can you spare a few dollars" would not have come with any strings. "Can you spare a few dollars for gas" comes with strings as the "for gas" portion suggests a specific need — a need she felt to mention as it made her more a damsel in distress than it did a person with poor budgetary skills. I'm not saying it'll make sense to everybody.]

The following photo is a Flickr photo inserted using Linear (formerly Ecto); it's inserted as an image of medium size. AND, it's the Iron Sheik, Haydn, Jack and Samson. 

Technorati Tags: Flickr, Wrestling

Posted by delmer at 7:07 AM | Comments (9)

June 22, 2008

Yesterday's Carnival

This past April one of Hilliard's school crossing guards was killed (I am tearing up as I type this… why does stuff like this never happen when I'm with my therapist? She might be tickled to see the non-Spock-like me) … where were we?

One of our crossing guards was killed when she ran into the crosswalk to push a child out of the way of a dump truck that then struck them both. Diana Sharp died and the child, eight-year old Christian Engel was seriously injured. According to the Columbus Dispatch it seems to have been a simple case of the truck driver not seeing the pair.

 

(This is not the best shot of the crowd)

This past Saturday the Sharp-Engel Carnival was held at a park not far from my home. Due to the fact that I have to make three children happy I wasn't able to attend the whole carnival. As it was Samson and I showed up about an hour before it ended.

Now, in all fairness, the only reason I'd have wanted to be at the Carnival the whole time was because I wanted to see McGuffey Lane and Phil Dirt and the Dozers. The fact that we showed up toward the end only modestly affected the amount of money I was able to spend. Well, I guess we did miss most of the raffles — so we could have spent a little more. 

The Band

But let's not worry over that.

Technorati Tags: Hilliard, Carnival

Posted by delmer at 9:50 PM | Comments (10)

May 29, 2008

There is so much to tell you

We'll start with this: For the third time in about as many months I'll be reloading everything on my notebook computer. Last night I shut the computer down at the end of work, using Start/Shut Down and when I tried to fire it up before bedtime, to catch up on blogs, I got "A disk read error occurred." Ah well.

In other news, last night as I was grilling chicken I heard a noise that would most likely be described as a child dragging a giant plastic ramp around. It would sound especially like that if you had an awareness that I had a giant plastic ramp in the back of the minivan and a child who, before I'd pulled up, that had been using a 2x4 as a small ramp.

And that would have been the boy I'd had X-rayed the day before and who had gone to school on crutches just that morning.

"Samson," I said. "Get away from that ramp!"

"Why?"

"Because I've made all the trips to Urgent Care I plan to make this week." I told him.

"But we won't have to go to Urgent Care," he said. And this was news to me. I hadn't realized Samson possessed any sort of internal Urgent-Care-scheduling mechanism. Had I known about it beforehand, and assuming he has a quota that needs to be met, I'd have certainly requested a non-Memorial-Day-evening injury.

"You'll be going to Mom's on Friday. You can do your ramp jumping then." And instead I took him to the small dirt track at the park so he could jump hills that would result in falls on hard-packed dirt instead of concrete.

(When I took him to school yesterday morning, on crutches, some of his buddies saw him hobbling up and said "Samson! Don't worry, we'll help you just like you helped us." It was very cute.)

Finally, this morning I drove the boys to school; I thought it would be a nice thing to do as this is their last school week with me. As I drove down Davidson, doing 42 in a 35 zone but not close to anybody, a guy got on my bumper. And I'm not kidding -- he was closer than anybody's been for as long as I can remember.

As you know I don't like tailgaters and if I'm speeding and being tailgated will slow down. So I slowed to 37 (which was still speeding). You may also remember I've adjusted one of the squirters on my windshield wipers and will sometimes give people a squirt if I'm in the mood. Since this guy didn't back off, I gave him a shot. This caused him to drop back.

It also caused him to express his displeasure over my displeasure of his tailgating to the point that he flashed his lights at me. And let me take this moment to say that in a world in which one person squirts and another person flashes his lights when the early morning sun is blasting into the auto's windshields ... the squirter wins (by my scoring, anyway).

We both made a right turn at the light and, because God loves me, turned into the school and made our ways to the child drop-off zone; we were cars one and two.

Leaving the school grounds we both took a left.

And he got nowhere near me.

Posted by delmer at 8:50 AM | Comments (14) | TrackBack

May 28, 2008

Aches and Pains

Years ago, and I mean like 40, my sister did something to her foot that led her to complain about it one night. She was about five.

The next day she played on it without issue. That night she complained of pain.

The following day she played on it again without any problem only to have bedtime aches.

The next day mom took her to the doctor where the foot was X-rayed, found to have been broken and in the process of healing.

"You should have seen the looks the nurses gave me. As if they thought I was the worst mother in the world," my mom has said when she tells that story.

And that's the story I told the doctor today when I took Samson in.

"So you're here trying to avoid getting mean looks later," he said laughing.

"Basically, yes. But he has been complaining and he seems to have trouble walking."

It all started when I took Sam to the bicycle shop for bike gloves. And I only mention this part of the story so I can say that I paid more for his gloves than I did mine. I agonized over spending $20.00 on bike gloves for myself (I said $25 in the video from last week and didn't realize my mistake until the film had gone through post production) — and I cranked out almost 2400 miles last year — but didn't give a second thought to spending $22.00 on gloves for Samson. I don't know what gene it is that makes me like this but I need to get it reversed; I'm the one with the job, I should get things I want without worrying too much over them. (I doubt Sam comes anywhere near 2400 miles going up and down our street.)

After we got the gloves home Samson needed to hop on the bike to test them out. Naturally, what with it being late in the evening on Memorial Day, he banged his foot up. Maybe I should have gotten him boots instead.

The foot continued to have trouble bearing weight Tuesday morning so we shot off to the doc's.

Anyway we went for an X-ray that was taken by a gal named Morag. When I asked if that was Scottish she replied, "That's a good guess." She was polite about it so I stopped short of explaining that as Americans go I wasn't all that stupid. Surprisingly, it wasn't until she'd given her name that I was able to hear her accent. When I commented on it she explained that she'd had to put some work into getting to the point American doctors could understand her clearly. Later I asked if she'd be kind enough to say "Captain, she can't take much more"; she politely declined. (And, no… I didn't really ask that.)

Sam's foot is not broken. It's just a bone bruise, or a muscle bruise or some other type of thing that's treated with ibuprofen, ice packs and Jack Daniels. He should be fine in a couple of days.

Technorati Tags: Cycling

Posted by delmer at 12:27 AM | Comments (14)

May 15, 2008

Oooh, that smell

Since this past Friday night I've been trying to track down a smell in the house that seemed to be focused around Haydn, my eldest. Each time I'd walk into the living room I'd be hit by a smell that could only be described as bad in a puzzling sort of way.

Haydn assured me he didn't need a bath — but boys are like that.

Finally, tired of the smell I made him shower.

The smell was back Saturday and Sunday. Sometimes it moved to the kitchen which made me wonder if I'd left something in the dishwasher or garbage disposal or trash can. Nothing turned up bad.

Back in the living room I started smelling on the various throws I have. Nothing came up rank.

The smell was so bad I wondered how it managed to remain as elusive as it was and how it was it moved around.

Last night it was back right next to Haydn and I thought it might be a bag he had sitting next to him. As I leaned forward to pick up the bag the smell hit me even harder. Looking down I noticed Haydn's shoes.

Now that I know what the smell is I've upgraded it from "bad in a puzzling sort of way" to "incredibly impressive" as to get that kind of funk out of a pair of shoes is an amazing piece of work.

I tossed the shoes in the washing machine and set the water to super-hot. I poured in some deodorizer, some Cheer, a bit of bleach and then the shoes that I'd pretreated.

This morning the shoes had the fresh smell of a warm Spring day. 

Technorati Tags: Smells

Posted by delmer at 2:41 PM | Comments (3)

May 11, 2008

I wanna be like you-oo-oo

Haydn played King Louie in the eighth-grade version of Jungle Book. I grabbed the camera I normally take biking with me as I'd forgotten one of its problems is that it won't read memory cards.

So, I only had enough time to catch a snippet of Haydn's song.

You can't tell from the video but the boy is wearing the biggest smile. He's truly a ham.

Technorati Tags: Acting

Posted by delmer at 4:39 PM | Comments (8)

April 13, 2008

The Wells Dynasty

Haydn, Jack, Sam and I had dinner at Buffalo Wild Wings this past Friday night. As you may recall, Haydn currently holds the local store's record for the Blazin' Wing Challenge (at 2:28) and was, until Friday, the youngest person to complete the challenge.

What is the Blazin' Wing Challenge? Well, you have to eat twelve Blazin' Hot Wings in six minutes or less.  If you do it you get your picture taken and a free bright orange shirt.

We ended up at B-dubs as Jack wanted to have a crack at the challenge.

I'd had Blazin' wings a couple of times before.  I like wings and realizing (1) they have a high-calorie to nutrition quotient and (2) I can eat them just like they were potato chips, I'd order the Blazin' wings as a way to help me throttle back the speed with which I'd eat them. I'd typically eat one or two and sweat profusely while I tried to put the mouth-fire out with beer or Diet Pepsi.

The thought of going through twelve in six minutes seemed a bit intimidating but I thought I'd join Jack in his quest. Haydn figured he'd give it another go to see if he could better his time.  Sammo thought better of the whole thing and decided he'd watch and provide moral support.

Prior to the start Haydn commented that when he'd tried it the first time he hadn't noticed the burning so much until wing ten.

Jack started eating just a second after the wings arrived. This was a signal to the guy with the watch, and the Guinness Book of World Records rep, to start the timer.

"Is it time to go?" Asked Haydn

"Yes," I said.

"Now?"

"Yes," I said as I picked up my first wing.

"But I didn't know it was time to start."

In the end Haydn finished in 2:33, I hit 2:55, and Jack came in at 3:33. Making us a Blazin' Wing Eating Dynasty. (We are such the dynasty that if you type BW3 Blazin Challenge into a Google Images search just about every page past the first one contains images from WADLL.)

Without the late start, Haydn would have beat his old time. Had I been interested in looking like a super-glutton I could have done better as well. As it was I sort of casually worked my way through them.

Per Haydn's earlier remark, I can't say I noticed any uncomfortableness until about wing ten. And while it may have been wing ten when things got uncomfortable, the inside of my mouth burned for a fair amount of time after wing twelve.  I also had some nice forehead sweating going.

Jack and Haydn had individual pictures taken.  Sam and I had a group shot done.

In the end we each, all four of us, got shirts.

Posted by delmer at 10:01 PM | Comments (7)

April 6, 2008

In kid news today

Jack caught an outfield fly to retire the opposing team in a Little League game.  Even the parents on the other team cheered him. He also had a RBI.

Haydn ate twelve blazin' wings at BW3 in 2:28 which knocked almost a full minute off the previous record. He got a shirt and his name on the leader board.  He is the youngest person, by seven years, to have met the "12 Blazin' Wings in 6 Minutes Challenge."

While Samson didn't do anything of note with regard to sports or culinary feats, he was adorable (all day long) nonetheless.

Posted by delmer at 1:08 PM | Comments (0)

April 1, 2008

Sam's Easter Break

Sam spent last week in Beallsville, Ohio with the ex-relatives.  According to Google it is 2.5 hours from where I live but, due to the wiggliness of the roads from Barnesville and beyond it feels a bit farther.  I doubt non-locals can make the 19-mile drive between the those two burgs at anything approaching the posted speed limit.

My ex-sister-in-law typically meets me half way when we make the Samson exchange.

As it happened, during the recent return trip Sam would have a chance to catch a ride with another ex-in-law who was going from Beallsville to the Columbus area.  I found out about this midweek and called Sam's host to discuss the travel option and we both agreed it was great for both of us that Sam had another way home; there would be no extra trips needed, fuel would be saved, it would be good for America.

The terrorists wouldn't win.

And then Sam got on the phone. "I want you to come pick me up," he said.

"You want me to come all the way down there to get you?" I asked.

"Yes."

"But that's a 6-hour round trip for me."  Because I wouldn't have felt right asking the ex-sister-in-law to meet me half way in this situation.

"That's okay," he said with a tone that seemed to suggest my six-hour round trip wouldn't inconvenience him in the least and that I shouldn't worry about it.

In the end Samson rode back with the alternate transportation. And the reason he wanted me to come get him is because he missed me and his brothers and he wanted us with him as soon as possible.

As soon as possible when vacation was over; but not so soon that he asked us to go down and got him a day or two early.

Posted by delmer at 1:03 AM | Comments (3)

March 29, 2008

Baked Goods

"Hello," Haydn said after he picked up the phone.

"Who is it?" I asked, as he talked to the person on the other end.

"It's mom."

"Ooooh!" I said excitedly. "Ask her to bring us some cookies."

"What?"

"Ask her to bring us some cookies."  And from that point forward he ignored me until he handed me the phone so I could tell the ex about Jack's tooth. As he gave me the phone he said, "You know it's MY mom. Not your mom, right?"

Of course I knew it was his mom. Had it been my mom I'd have asked for white cake with white icing.

Posted by delmer at 8:45 PM | Comments (4)

February 23, 2008

More Scanned Photos

This photo was taken April 6, 1996, per the time stamp.   Jack is just under a year old and Haydn is two and a half. I'm very close to 36.

 

I've said a lot, in the past, about not being much of a smiler. My boys are always able to bring one out of me.

Posted by delmer at 12:34 PM | Comments (4)

February 22, 2008

His name is Jack, he might attack ...

Once upon a time, Jack was very small and I had a beard that stayed brown all by itself. 

I get a little teary when I look at this photo (and some others like it); I thought I'd share it with you.

 

 

Posted by delmer at 8:56 PM | Comments (2)

February 20, 2008

My February 19

Let's take a look at my yesterday. We'll start at 4 p.m., which is when a meeting between my department and our Administrative Department was supposed to start.  The problem with the 4 o'clock start time is that the Engineering Department had the 3 o'clock slot and you know how engineers are; they drone on and on and on.

Well, maybe not.

Anyway,  4 o'clock came, went, and eventually turned into 4:15.  I had to pick a child up at 4:30 and while some of you might wonder about the sensibilities involved in leaving a meeting with the bosses thirty minutes into it, let me assure you it would have been OK.  As I hoped missing it entirely would be, as that's the route I took. (I hoped the meeting would end up canceled.)

I had the child picked up by 4:30 and had pork chops in the oven at 4:50.  

At 5 p.m. I had an Olympic bar on my back and was doing squats. The boys, all three of them, were in the house doing homework.

Dinner was served at 5:50.  Dishes were in the dishwasher at 6:15.

At 6:30 I had Haydn back at the school for a play audition.

The younger two boys and I shot back to work where they continued homework while I rebooted the phone system (it has to be done after hours) and did some quick work on a PC (that also had to be done after hours).

While at work I ran into the CEO who asked me about the meeting I missed. He was never peeved about it and, as a father, understood my absence.  And he saw me at work after hours, which is always good.

I had Haydn back in the van by 7:30 and we were at Staples minutes later.  We had to buy some transfer paper so we could make iron-ons for a shirt he needed for school the next day. (I picked up 50 DVD-Rs for $5.00, after Instant Savings)

Between 8 p.m. and 1:45 a.m Haydn made the iron-ons which we ironed onto a clean, white T-shirt. There were four iron-ons in all and it takes more time to do than you would think. 

He also put the finishing touches on a Puerto Rico project; this involved making a short video that he needed to burn to CD. Without going into all the details let me just say that the short-in-length video was 2.1 gigs in size.  I sent Haydn to bed at 1:45 and told him I'd take care of the CD (now DVD) burning and started a file transfer to my notebook. Then I went to bed.

This morning I got up just before 7 a.m. and copied the file to DVD. The audio kept dropping out so I listened to the original. It sounded fine.  I made another copy which also sounded like crap. I opened some software I owned and converted the file from and .avi to .mpg.  It reduced to 25 megs, copied to a CD nicely, and sounded fine.

I got the boys out of bed at 7:45 (a full 45 minutes later than usual) and they repaid my letting them sleep late by  getting ready and out the door in record time.  Haydn and I tested the CD on the way to school.

All was good.

It is certainly easy to wonder how a child's projects took until 1:45 a.m. to complete. Haydn started being apologetic for the lateness right around 11 p.m.  Looking back, well not even looking back, at the time I could see several ways the projects could have been completed faster (too much time on transfer design was one big time suck), but Haydn was having a good time with everything and I admired the attention he was paying to detail.  And this has never happened before.

[My favorite quote from last night: "What?! Two point one gigs? How?"  Which was an indication to me that Haydn learned the sad truth that just because a video is short in length, it isn't small in size.]

Posted by delmer at 7:22 PM | Comments (2)

January 31, 2008

My Eldest is Applying for a Scholarship

[And this is the letter he cranked out in about 10 minutes.]

 

January 31, 2008

Mrs. Teacher's Name

St. Brendan School

 

 

Dear Mrs. XXXX,

 

I feel I would be a good candidate for the Aquinas Scholarship Endowment Fund because I think I could accurately represent the high academic standards St. Brendan School and its teachers uphold.  

 

I would also like to address the fact that I am involved in many of the extracurricular options presented to me because I attend St. Brendan. I have been involved in Power of the Pen (8^th grade), Youth-to-Youth (7^th and 8^th grades), football (4-8^th grades), basketball (4^th grade), In-the-Know (6-8^th grades), Math Counts (8^th grade) and track and field (7^th and 8^th grades). I also served on the Student Advisory Board in 5^th and 8^th grades. I qualified for the Spelling Bee several years (1^st, 2^nd, 4^th, 5^th and 8^th grades). In 5^th grade, I placed 3^rd and went to the Diocesan Spelling Bee as an alternate. 

 

I am also active in the St. Brendan Parish and attend the V.E.R.Y. Edge meetings before Mass. I was an altar server as well in 5^th and 6^th grades. After Mass, I hand out bulletins to parishioners. I will represent St. Brendan this summer at Catholic Heart Workcamp as part of the LIFE TEEN program. 

 

I plan to attend St. Charles Preparatory School and continue my Catholic education there. I do realize that it is very academically challenging and I believe I am ready to accept that challenge. 

 

My mother has always told me that, no matter where I am, I am representing my school. Even without my uniform, I am representing St. Brendan and I would be proud to continue to do so through the Aquinas Scholarship Endowment Fund. 

 

Thank you for this opportunity and thank you for taking the time to read this letter.  

   

Sincerely,  

   

   

   

Haydn Wells 

 

Posted by delmer at 10:54 PM | Comments (4)

January 26, 2008

More Disney Memories

And now, my favorite Disney memories by child (and you'll notice the clever use of blurry photos in this entry).

Samson: Having him drive me around in the motorized race cars. This was Samson's favorite ride and we took several turns at it. What I thought was interesting was that Samson complained that the cars with the steering wheel on the right-hand side were harder to drive. I told him that I knew exactly what he meant.

 

Jack: Jack and I sat next to each other in the Aerosmith Roller Coaster. The cars whip around the track to the tune of "Dude Looks Like a Lady." The whole time Jack was sitting next to me he was singing along with as much as he knew of the song which was pretty much, "Doo doo… doo doo… dude looks like a lady.  Doo doo… doo doo… dude looks like a lady." Coincidentally, that's the same parts of the song I know.

 

Haydn: Spent a lot of time with the Disney Club that's set aside for older kids. He went off on his own, to this supervised activity, and came to the stateroom when he was supposed to, a bit after 2 a.m.  It was very late, and it was something new for us. Even though we were on a boat and he wasn't just running around wild, I had worry that I wouldn't normally have.  Haydn behaved responsibly and didn't do anything to make me regret the trust I had in him. 

 

 

 

Posted by delmer at 11:17 PM | Comments (1)

January 20, 2008

Off the boat and to Disney's Animal Kingdom Villas

Today the plan was to have breakfast at 7 a.m. and then roll off the boat. I, honestly, had some concerns about being able to mobilize everybody in time to make breakfast and was tickled when I woke up around 6.

Without getting into all the magic (some of it Disney, some of it mine) involved I'll skip to the part where the boys and I decided to scoot off the boat at 7 in an attempt to avoid the going-through-customs crowd.

Around 7:15 the all clear was given to exit the boat. As fast as we could walk we had our luggage, cleared customs, and were sitting on our butts drinking pop. It couldn't have taken five minutes.

When you compare this to the fear I had of standing in a customs line for an hour, with 2000 other people, with three boys poking and prodding each other … well, there is no comparison. [I have no problem waiting in line with other travelers as I have a full awareness that the line will eventually wither to nothing and I'll get to where I'm going. Teen and pre-teen boys lack that awareness.]

The downside to the whole thing is that we haven't eaten. Fortunately, we've been storing about 10,000 extra cruise and park calories per day for the past week and we're unlikely wither away to nothing.

Let's do a travel recap:

In Columbus: 

• At the airport early
• Zipped through security (Samson declared it the most fun he'd ever had)
• Had a great flight to Philly
• Great weather

In Philly: 

• Made it to our connecting flight without a problem despite the fact its gate was in a different county that the plane we flew in on
• Zipped through security again
• Great weather

In Orlando: 

• Took a train to get our baggage
• The World's Greatest Brother-In-Law picked us up at the airport

Getting on the Cruise: 

• We took a chartered bus
• Disney had plenty of people to help with check-in. It was painless
• As you know, the cruise was great

Getting off the boat: 

• Well, you read about it earlier in this entry

Things could not have been better, and this is a problem.  My kids have no appreciation for how rough traveling can be. (My niece, who joined us for the cruise portion, had her 6 a.m. flight canceled the day the boat was to leave. Naturally, she found out about it only after she drove, in the snow, to the airport.)

[Later that day, and too tired and lazy to care about tense change and opting instead to insert a blurb in brackets, he typed…]

The latter part of the day was spent at Disney's Animal Kingdom Villas. We got there some time before noon (via chartered bus) and had the boys swimming in the heated pool shortly thereafter. It was rather chilly out, though the boys didn't seem to mind.

I ordered pizza for dinner and had a moment of pause when I said, "We're at Disney's Animal Kingdom Villas" and the order taker asked me for the cross streets so the driver could find it. I thought maybe I'd called the wrong Papa John's; I'd thought correctly.

 

Samson and Jack swim. You'll notice the lifeguard is all bundled up.

 

Haydn crashed before the other boys. He'd been up late the night before and was going on four hours sleep.

 

A shot from my sister's room.

 

Zebras.

 

A shot from the pool area.

Posted by delmer at 11:52 PM | Comments (1)

January 19, 2008

Castaway Key

Today we docked at Castaway Key, the island Disney owns.  It was windy and the water choppy enough that glass bottom boat tours and some other things were canceled.

They were not things the boys had an interest in so we were unaffected.

And, despite the wind, it was still almost 80 F (very close to 28 C and, as I don't have Internet access at the moment I'm unable to check and I'll likely forget to proof this before posting ... 82 F would be 28 C).  And, (to throw another italicized "and" your way) the beach was in a protected area that didn't suffer from out-of-control wave action.

All the boys got off the boat and went to the island. Only Jack, Sam and I stayed to swim, dig in the sand, and drink beer. I did a lot of the swimming and all of the beer drinking. Jack and Sam did most of the swimming and all of the digging in the sand. (Haydn returned to the boat as he's 14… parents of teenagers will know what I mean and will understand it was best for all involved.)

We were all back on the boat by 4:30 and cleaned up and pretty for 5:45 dinner. (I forgot my camera, but I had duckling. We all had snails.)

When dinner ended Jack asked if he could go to Oceaneers Lab. 

Samson, despite my best efforts to enroll him in something, resisted and asked to go swimming.  He and I went to the Goofy Pool where he joined another boy in the water.  I joined another father who was sitting with hit back to the jumbo screen and using the light from one cartoon after another to read.

Samson grew tired around 10:15 and I had him tucked in in front of the TV by 10:30.

I was having an Amber Bock in the Promenade Bar in time to hear the duo there sing Come On Eileen.

 

This guy sounded just like Captain Jack Sparrow.

 

Samson, Donald, and Jack.

 

Goofy and a guy we don't know.

 

Goofy acting like he's just been caught by a big fish.

 

Boys in the ocean.

Posted by delmer at 7:38 AM | Comments (0)

January 18, 2008

Nassau

We arrived in Nassau early this morning.

We rolled out of bed several hours later.

Haydn got it in his head that it would be beneficial for all involved if he had on/off boat privileges independent of mine. That seemed like a really, really, bad idea to me and I opted for the you-stay-with-me model of visiting Nassau. (In all fairness, Haydn was more concerned that I might want to go off the boat when he didn't want to.

Yesterday, Jack heard an announcement in which a Del Sol stuffed dog was going to be raffled off. In order to win the dog, which changes color in the sun (sort of like a Wells without sunscreen, only more colorful), we had to attend a Shopping In the Bahamas meeting. Coupons for freebies were given away at the meeting and today the boys took me from jeweler to jeweler to collect free jewels.

Just about everything they got had a "value" of $50; the boys had trouble seeing it.

We are currently underway and heading toward Castaway Cay which is the island Disney owns. The ride is a lot smoother than it was last night.

 

The boys in Nassau

 

A cool looking boat with Jack's name in it.

 

The appetizer I had tonight: Salmon trio.  I had grouper for dinner.

Posted by delmer at 10:24 PM | Comments (9)

January 16, 2008

Almost Paradise

My children who, as you know, are incredibly adorable and, generally, the best kids in the world, have never known the thrill of driving from Ohio to Vermont in an air-conditionless mid-60's-era van.  A van in which the only form of recreation was coloring fast with Crayons. Fast because it was hot enough that the Crayons were not so much melting as going straight to vapor.

There may be just the smallest bit of exaggeration there.

Still, my kids know the life of DVDs playing or X-Boxes X-boxing while they are driven, in air-conditioned comfort, from point A to point B.  And if point A to point B are too far from each other — as Ohio and Florida often are — they fly.

And this trip they are staying "on property" at Disney. This means they get to partake of extended hours (that is, the park closes at 8 p.m. and we get to stay until 11 p.m. some nights), they get bussed to and from the parks and they get to make use of Fast Pass.  They are at Disney in January when the place is all but deserted (and Fast Passes aren't really needed).  They were also taken out of school for a week for this vacation. Tomorrow they hop on a Disney Cruise Ship (and, I'm pretty sure, they get to drive it out of port).

Sounds like a little bit of Heaven on Earth, eh?

And yet, they can't leave each other alone.  At times they bicker, poke, prod, and do anything else they can think of to get on each other's nerves. Normally they succeed in getting on my nerves.

And this led to today's end-of-day corrective measure that featured Jack and Samson.

The day was over, the park had closed and we were on our way to the bus and then dinner and swimming. Not the bus and then an evening of breaking giant rocks into smaller rocks with a sledge hammer.  Bus, dinner and swimming.

Somebody poked and prodded for the billionth time on the trip which led me to grabbing him by the collar and pulling him toward me. He received a micro-correction and was told to stand at a particular point near a building. I had the second boy stand next to him and I then proceeded to read them the riot act. As I made my point, which involved some hand gestures and mean looks, I noticed I had them in front of a window and that I could detect movement on the other side. I was a little curious as to what our conversation might have looked like to people on the other side of the glass.

After the correction-session ended I turned and, as the boys walked away from me, a woman walked, handed me a card and said, "I'm so proud of you."

"Why?" I asked, "Because I didn't beat them?" (And the tone was "because I resisted the urge to beat them?")

The card said, "God Loves You and God has a Plan for Your Life."

(The impression I got was that she was happy to see someone discipline their children during these times in which it seems to have fallen out of fashion.)

I'm not sure what God's plan is. I just hope it's not being in charge of the Heaven's Daycare.

Posted by delmer at 10:33 PM | Comments (7)

January 12, 2008

Through security

The boys and I have gone through security.  Samson said it was the most fun he's ever had (I'm not kidding).  I'm thinking I could have saved a bunch of money and just brought Sam to the airport and run him through the security checkpoint a couple of times rather than take him on a cruise.  We'll have to see how Disney stacks up to going through a metal detector and having his shoes X-rayed.

I'm plugged in and recharging and thought I'd post the photo of the boys I took earlier.

 

Haydn and Jack are giving their iPods a workout.  Jack is reading a gaming magazine I bought him.  I'm drinking a $2.10 Diet Coke.

Posted by delmer at 9:54 AM | Comments (3)

On the way

I bounced out of bed this morning at 6:15 a.m. and had the boys bounce out of theirs fifteen minutes later.  I made quick trip to Micky D's while they got ready and we were all fed, dressed and ready for our pickup at 7:15.

My friend, The Dark Haired Girl, who, at some point in the past made the mistake of telling me she's in the habit of getting up around 6 a.m. regardless of the day, scooped us up around 7:30.  We were at the airport by 8:00 (and that included a stop for a Diet Coke).  The boys and I had our bags checked curbside while our ride took off to her Yoga class. 

We are three hours early for our flight.  This might seem absurd to many, but parents will recognize the wisdom of mobilizing the troops first thing, before they have time to dig in and settle in front of televisions.  And there's something about rolling them out of bed early, for a 7:30 pickup, that creates a sense of urgency that a 9 o'clock pick-up lacks.

And I prefer to be early as much as anything.

The boys are doing a fine job.  Haydn and Jack are watching movies on their iPods.

My battery is dying.  I'll have to post this without the photo. Sorry.

Posted by delmer at 8:45 AM | Comments (2)

January 11, 2008

The Mouse

Have I mentioned that the boys and I are going on a Disney Cruise to the Bahamas?  We'll be spending a few days at Disney World as well.

We've just finished packing and blast off for Florida in eleven hours.

We've been planning this for about a year and  half.

I can't believe I didn't say anything sooner.

Posted by delmer at 11:52 PM | Comments (4)

January 10, 2008

Sam came home sick

I received a call yesterday from Samson's school.  He was in the health office looking pale and puny and reporting a stomach ache.  His temperature was in the 96-point-something range, which is cool, I know, but not uncommon for my family (which is one of the reasons we'll survive after global warming has killed all the rest of you ... btw, when you feel you're about to perish in the heat please leave your car keys on the kitchen counter so I don't have to do a lot of rooting around when I'm looting.)

Sammo had gotten ill during Mass and the teacher, noticing his lack of color and the ill look, took him to the nurse.

I told the school I'd be by to pick Sammo up and went to retrieve him.

When I got to school he did look pasty and the pastiness continued until we were almost home. As he settled in and made himself comfortable his color started to return and by the time I'd left for work he was rather robust.

I don't think he was faking.  There have been one or two times in my life when I've gone from feeling great to feeling like crap and then great again in a very short period of time.  Sometimes a trip to the bathroom, with some literature, is the thing that fixes a bout of brief illness even while the illness didn't appear to bring with it a sense of constipation.  What I'm getting at is that I'd expected Sammo to spend some time in the library prior to feeling better and when he didn't I was just a little confused.

Last night I got a call from a parent. The mother asked if her child could speak to Samson as something had happened during Mass that her son would like to apologize for.

Thinking there may have been an argument and Sam's feelings had gotten hurt, I asked, "Is this related to the reason Sam came home?"

The mother wasn't aware that Sam had come home and told me what happened.  During the "sign of Peace," which, for those of you who are members of lesser religions, is when the kids shake hands, her boy licked his palm before shaking.

I think this may have grossed Samson out without him knowing it and led to the paleness, puniness and stomach distress.  I asked Samson about it after the phone call and he told me that he'd just wiped his hand off on his pants.

And, as for the palm licker?  Well, a couple of the nuns backroomed him and it's unlikely it will happen again. (Actually he did get in some sort of trouble. My thought is boys will be boys. Especially 9-year olds.)

Posted by delmer at 7:50 AM | Comments (6)

January 6, 2008

Monster Jam 2008

As he did last year and the year before and, yes, the year before that, Samson took me to see yesterday's Monster Jam at Nationwide Arena.

 

This is Gravedigger  on his first run. Going up, over some cars.

 

This is how he came down. He was rolled clockwise to get uprighted.

 

Superman and Gravedigger race. The start line is just behind the first car (a hair past Superman's back tires). That's the finish line you see just in front of the trucks.  It's a small venue so the races are short. This does not seem to negatively affect the happiness it gives Samson. (Click this image to enlarge.)

 

Brutus going up.  You'll notice a van has been moved into place for freestyle. Insane OSU football fans will notice it's in LSU's school colors; I had no idea until it was pointed out by the announcer. (Click this image to enlarge.)

 

Captain Curse rolled over. 

In between racing and freestyle there were mini-quad races and some freestyle dirt bike action.  One of the dirt bike riders did a back flip with his motorcycle.

Sam and I are already making plans to go next year.

Posted by delmer at 5:55 PM | Comments (7)

December 26, 2007

The Final Christmas Video

This will be the final Christmas video and it's only a short piece of a larger item. When I started posting the videos I said something like you'll be able to see the kids grow and me shrink.

So, this is the one with me shrunk in it.  Please excuse the verbal grammar error.

Posted by delmer at 9:12 PM | Comments (5)

December 24, 2007

Christmases in Kentucky and Beallsville

From 1997 and 1998

In Christmas in Kentucky, Jack gets a set of Soccer Boppers. One of the things I regret most in all the Christmas videos is not taping long enough to get Jack testing them out with Haydn.  Jack had been going around tapping people with his Soccer Bopper ... tap tap tap.  He told Haydn to put one on and Bop him back.

Haydn laid him out.  Nobody got hurt and Haydn wasn't trying to hit Jack hard, it was just a size-difference thing.

This video ends abruptly; the version I've converted to DVD is full-length but I'm too lazy to dig it out and convert it here.

 

 

 

Christmas in Beallsville is one of my favorites and many of you have already seen it.  If you haven't, yet, watch this one all the way through until Jack says, "Yeah-yuh."  You won't be disappointed.

Sammo makes his first appearance in this video.

 

Posted by delmer at 2:26 PM | Comments (1)

December 23, 2007

He Bringed Me This

Christmas 1996 with Jack and Haydn.  There's an odd auto-focus thing going on during part of it.

I did, eventually, sort out Joy to the World. 

Posted by delmer at 3:38 PM | Comments (4)

December 22, 2007

Christmas 1995

Haydn and Jack

 

Posted by delmer at 8:56 AM | Comments (4)

December 15, 2007

Haydn's First and Second Christmases

Over the next several days you'll be able to see my children grow. (And I shrink toward the end.)

Haydn's first Christmas finds him in potato mode. That is, he isn't doing much of anything other than his potato impression.

During his second Christmas he'd gotten so many gifts that he got tired in the middle of unwrapping them and needed a nap.

Posted by delmer at 9:32 AM | Comments (6)

December 13, 2007

The Christmas Play

Yesterday my son Samson co-starred in his school's Christmas play … with about 40 other kids.  

Much of his time, as was most of the time by most of the kids, in the play was spent being a background singer. He did, however, have two lines that he delivered in such a way that, and I think every parent in attendance would agree, I truly believe he carried the show.

What I think was really cool about the play was that it covered Hanukkah, Kwanza, Ramadan, and Christmas and that each holiday was given equal time.  It would seem the Catholics have lightened up since Vatican II and have decided to let everybody into Heaven. (Though I think the Catholics still believe O'Hanahans still get preferred seating over the Katz family.  (I also think our Jewish friends will be having the last laugh as Bruce Springsteen leads them in rousing versions of Hava Nagila when we've all made it through the Pearly Gates.  (Yes, I know. Bruce is Catholic (who, but a Catholic, could have come up with a lyric about pregnant nuns in the Vatican), but you know some seating mistakes are going to be made.)))

We learned that a dreidle has four words on it (eenie, meenie, miney and moe), Kwanza (like the banjo) was born in the USA, and Ramadan comes around every nine months and is very hard to say without thinking of a popular hotel chain or British school teachers.

When we learned about Hanukkah one of the children took on the role of a Jewish lady. Kwanza saw one of the kids as an African person. Ramadan, a Muslim. We also had a child representing a Mexican lady as we were given a look at how our neighbors to the south celebrated the holiday. (As our neighbors to the north were unrepresented I can only assume that Canadians are all members of some heathen horde).

Inasmuch as my children go to a predominately-white Catholic school, all of the 'international' and non-Christian roles were played by predominately-white Catholics.

And if it sounds at all like I'm picking on the school, I'm not.  I really liked the message that the play was sending and I thought it was incredibly open minded.

 

Posted by delmer at 5:14 PM | Comments (6)

December 12, 2007

A Poem by Jack

What I Found in My Locker  

A really long ear of corn.  

A rusty bike without a horn.  

A rubber chicken that makes a squeak.  

A bully shoved in by a geek.  

A pre-baked chicken, no, it's a turkey.  

A full size link of beef jerky.  

A bologna sandwich that's very moldy.  

And my grandma (she's an oldie).  

An airplane the size of a cougar.  

A diamond-colored Freddie Krueger.  

And last (but not least) a secret compartment.  

That leads right into my secret apartment. 

 

... Jack Wells, age 12  

Posted by delmer at 1:00 PM | Comments (10)

October 18, 2007

But it's a mud room

Dudes and Dudettes …

It's been a big couple of days.

I've had a lot of odd stuff at work (though today we had free lunch with ice cream cake served to us by the officers of the company — as much as this makes me sound like a big kid, I really do work at a great place).

And my last two evenings have been action packed. It seems like I've gotten home just in time to cook and then I've been off to football and soccer; and while they are both at the same field, and sort of at the same time, I really need to be there for the 2 1/2 hours that everything is going on.  Last night I did some work for the company while I watched the boys (if I know I'm going to get a bit of ice cream cake the next day I'm not put out by kicking in an hour or so of my time for the good of my employer); tonight I read a little bit of Gone on the PDA.

Following sports we've headed home and then I've been doing laundry.

With all of this going on I almost forgot to blog tonight and, up until just now, I didn't think I had anything to say. (But you'll notice it didn't stop me from starting a post.)

Parents will like this.

Non-parents will like it too as they sit back and enjoy their clean floors.

When Haydn took his cleats off tonight he he gave them a toss from the kitchen to the mud/laundry room.

I've told the boys, time and again, not to throw their shoes in the house; things like that lead to marks on the wall.

I reminded Haydn of this and he gave me the 'whattaya mean' face and a verbal "But I didn't hit the wall."

"That's not the point," I said, "You could have hit the wall. And look at the mud!"

"What mud?"

"That mud!"  I said pointing to the mud crumbs on the floor.

"That's not from my cleats," he protested.

"It most certainly is!"

"No it's not."

"What about this piece," I asked picking up a big chunk laying as if it had just peeled off the cleat next to it.

"That's old."

"It's still wet!"

"It's from Jack's cleat." 

Jack's cleats, I should point out were nowhere to be seen. I'm guessing that had I pressed for further explanation Haydn would have said his cleat had knocked Jack's cleat out of the way, much like those big rocks curlers throw/heave/curl, and that his cleat had fallen in the exact position needed to make it appear that the mud in question had peeled off his shoe.

I didn't feel like pressing the topic.  Instead I reached for the broom and dust pan. "Before you climb into the shower I want you to sweep this up."

That was two hours ago.

I just checked Haydn's handiwork as I was reloading the washer (so his football gear will be ready for Saturday). You will not be surprised to find that the broom and dust pan are right where I left them.  As is the mud.

I'll make sure he gets it in the morning. 

(You know, I should really run Google Ads on this site. I'd make a fortune on the Vasectomy links alone.)

Posted by delmer at 10:24 PM | Comments (11)

October 17, 2007

School Sports

In 7th grade I was cut when I tried out for basketball. In all fairness, I should have been cut but I still hated that it happened. It was embarrassing. And I never tried out for another sport after that.

In 9th grade one of my friends overheard one of the coaches ask, "Why doesn't that big kid ever try out for anything?"  I was the big kid in question.

A friend of mine convinced me to play football senior year.  There wasn't really any "trying out" involved as we were a small school and everybody made the cut. I went to summer training and two-a-days.

And I quit just before the season started. I lacked the killer instinct. My helmet could not have been the right size -- nothing is supposed to be that tight. My cleats were shitty, they hurt my feet, and it never occurred to me to have mom and dad buy a new pair. Mostly I had no idea what the hell was going on on a football field. It was a bad mix of things and anyone of them would have made me uncomfortable; all together they were more than I was willing to put up with.

At the time I weighed 212 pounds and was close to 6' 4" tall. Maybe I was taller. When do guys quit growing?

Anyway, as I recall, I was the only guy on the team that weighed over 200 pounds who had passed the physical. (Later, the program would show a couple of guys on the squad that went over 200 pounds and I always wondered what my new-improved-program weight would have been.  The program would also show several guys who had not been at two-a-days; where the hell had they been?)

There was one thing I was good at. Toward the end of practice we did something that required that we run a lap around the field.  I, lacking the killer instinct, would always start at the end of the group but would typically finish number one or two  (I remember racing one of the Blaha boys to the finish line a couple of times. I won once and he the other).  I checked the play book and there were exactly zero plays that required tackles and guards to run laps around the field. (By the way, we were divided into groups based on position for this exercise. Once, one of the backs (or ends or something) ran with us and blew us all away. Showoff. If we could have caught him, though, any one of us could have crushed him.)

This is Samson in his football garb. His football career wasn't all that long as he prefers soccer.

He managed to go all summer without getting a haircut.  He'd finished the school year with his hair longer than I thought the school would tolerate and he was fairly sure he'd be able to sneak a week or two of long hair past the principal this year.  I was certain he was wrong and it was decided he shouldn't push his luck.

Of course, if I had hair like that I'd never want to cut it either.

Posted by delmer at 9:26 PM | Comments (9)

October 14, 2007

The Child Authority

My boys periodically ask for airsoft guns.  These are guns that shoot soft rubber balls a bit bigger than a BB. 

I'm, honestly, not a big fan of the item as I doubt the ability of any one of my children to not shoot a brother despite the assurances I've been given.

Today, following a football and soccer game that we were able to enjoy in what was nothing less than spectacular weather, we found ourselves at McDonald's and in possession of a Sports Authority Sunday flyer.

According to the flyer the Sports Authority had airsoft guns for $1.75.  Without going into all the negotiations I'll get straight to the part where I told the boys I'd get them the guns.  My thought was that a $1.75 gun probably wouldn't be that powerful or sturdy and that it would probably break in short order. Six dollars seemed like a fair price to pay to make the boys happy and teach them the you get what you pay for lesson.

It was not my thought that the $1.75 gun might not exist and I had every expectation of finding a $1.75 gun when I got to Sports Authority or at least a $1.75 sign in front of an empty rack (in which case I'd already decided I'd go as high as $5.00 a gun).

There was no $1.75 gun. There was no sign. There was a genuine look of surprise on the sales guy's face when I suggested they might have a gun for $1.75.

The sales guy found the flyer and upon seeing the ad we'd seen said that Sports Authority must have one like that at a store somewhere. 

And I'm guessing he's right. And I'm guessing the flyer had a disclaimer in it stating quantities and stock may vary by store.

Nine-year olds don't read the small print and if it is pointed out to them they still want to go the the store as they're pretty sure our store will have whatever it is they want.

And when they don't, despite any disclaimer, they still get teary-eyed and sniffly on the way home.

Oh. The least expensive airsoft gun The Sports Authority had was almost $20.00.

Naturally, this has given me a bad feeling about Sport Authority. Maybe they've got a million of these guns spread around the 50 states -- and I don't really believe that -- and the Sports Authority I chose is the only one without any.  In any case, the one I chose is a block away from Dick's Sporting Goods and until Dick manages to make my nine-year old cry I'll shop there.  Marketing people really need to take things like this into consideration when they throw ads together. 

(Following our trip to Sports Authority we loaded the bikes up and drove to the local dirt-bike track for an hour of dirt-biking and mosquito feeding.)

Posted by delmer at 7:26 PM | Comments (3)

October 11, 2007

Skirmishes

As you know I have the second-most adorable group of children in the world. You, of course, have the most adorable child/group of children in the world but, as there's something like 6.6 billion of us, second isn't all that bad.

As adorable as they are I have had discipline challenges in the past and more than once I found I had my eldest's head gripped between my hands as I read him the riot act.

This was really never very effective. Then one day, as I had him gripped as described, I leaned in and gave him a kiss on the lips. That proved to be very effective and, following that, any time we were out and he got out of line I'd just have to say, "I'm not afraid to give you a kiss, right now, in front of all these people."  He was afraid.

The other morning I had the boys all ready to get on the bus. I was going to ride the bike to work and was dressed like this:

 

You'll notice the backpack in front of the bike.  I've got a helmet and sunglasses somewhere close by.

A skirmish broke out that I stopped by saying, "Boys. If you don't shape up I'm going to put my helmet and backpack on and wait at the bus stop with you."

That was a thrill they decided they could live with out.

By the way, the above photo is from Monday or Tuesday, one of the days it was 90+ (31C or thereabouts).  Wednesday night I went riding dressed like this:

I see that I've lopped off the balaclava.  Basically I'm wearing this with my blue jersey on over it.  (Tonight when I went riding it was 55 F, or about 13 C.  And it started sprinkling rain about 1/2 way through.  In all fairness, I was a little overdressed — I have on two pair of tights, an underlayer item, the jersey, a balaclava and I topped if off with a light riding jacket. What can I say?  Yesterday it was 90 degrees out — 55 felt really cold when I started out.)

Posted by delmer at 12:01 AM | Comments (11)

October 2, 2007

Software Needed

I have an idea to help us cut down on the amount of oil we need to import.

Today, as I filled the minivan up with gas, it occurred to me that almost all of my driving over the weekend had been taking kids to and from sports activities. 

Generally speaking, most of my driving involves taking a child someplace. I work about 1.75 miles from where I live and ride my bike to work as much as possible. What I'm getting at is that when I'm childless I can go a good, long time between putting gas in the tank.

Now, I'm not complaining about driving the kids hither and yon, but, with the appropriate software I think my drive could be shortened somewhat.

Saturday we got up just after 7 a.m. (The guys across the street get a 30-minute head start on the city ordinance that allows them to start building at 7:30 a.m.  They drive the big beeping thing around long enough to wake me up and then become quiet as church mice the rest of the morning).  I had Haydn to football by 8:30 and then drove home to get Jack ready for a 9:30 soccer game. It ended about the time football was over and I was able to pick Haydn up without him having to wait too long for me.

Sunday we had a football game, soccer pictures for two boys and a soccer game.  I dropped Haydn off at 11:30 for his game and drove the other boys to get pictures taken at 12:20 and 12:40.  One child went with another parent to his game (which would start an hour after pictures) while I waited with child two to get his picture taken. I then drove child two home (so he wouldn't be booooooored) and then went to the soccer game. After the game I was on my way to pick up Haydn (I had to miss football) when he called and said he was getting a ride home with another parent.

Last night we had a soccer game and football practice and they were an hour off from each other. I drove to soccer and watched a bit of the game. I then drove home and retrieved the football player and drove him to practice. After soccer I drove home. At 8:15 I retrieved the football player from his practice.

Earlier in the year it appeared that a lot of our games and practices were going to be at the same place and some at the same time. The last couple of weeks the schedule has morphed and not so much of that is happening.

With the exception of Monday's soccer and football game no two games this weekend were in the same place and those items weren't at the same time.

What we need is a program that will take all of the game and practice data for all of the sports a family participates in, across all the leagues those sports fall into, and crunches the data so that people are driving the fewest miles possible. It would have to take into account things like field location, coach availability, participant's home address, well, you get the idea.  

Version two of the software could incorporate some sort of snack-list feature so that all parents take an equal turn. 

Tonight the boys and I went to Wendy's to use up a gift card I'd gotten from work.

 

Posted by delmer at 10:44 PM | Comments (8)

September 6, 2007

Back to Work

Today was the first day back to work and I went in a bit early.  We had a printer problem while I was in England and a network printer object needed to be recreated.  I'd tried to fix it from the UK but ran into a problem. 

As it happens, the problem I ran into is that the web-based utility I use to set up printers will not run from my notebook.  When I was in England I thought the problem was related to VPN and distance issues.  Today, after spending an hour or so trying to get it to work and trying to sort out what was going on at the server to screw me, I decided to try the utility from another PC.  It worked and I had the printer back on the network in 5 minutes.

The PC it worked on it running Windows XP Pro with Internet Explorer 6.  the PC it wouldn't work from is running Windows CP Pro with Internet Explorer 6.  Go figure.

But enough of that.

I scooted out of work early (after all, I'd gone in early and skipped lunch) so I could hang with my kids and celebrate Haydn's 14th birthday.

Where do the years go?

Posted by delmer at 6:23 PM | Comments (4)

August 20, 2007

Shoe Buying

Jack needed shoes. Well, all the boys did but Jack got his Sunday. And this is how the shopping trip went.

The boys and I drove to Target, walked in the front door and headed to the shoe department. As we turned off a main aisle in to shoes — and I mean like two steps out of the main aisle — I saw a pair of blue and white tennis shoes and asked, "Jack, do you like these?"

"Yes. I do." he said. "And look, this pair is an 11 just like I wear."

We tried on an 11 and an 11 1/2 before going with the 11. Jack then said, "I'll be in video games," and I was left to shop a bit as his brothers trailed after him.

Total time spent shoe shopping: Fewer than 5 minutes. Fewer than $20.00 spent.

Jack truly shops like a man.

Compare that to:

Samson needed shoes.

Friday night we went to Dick's to look for Nike Shox. They didn't have Shox in Samson's size so we looked at many other pair. While we looked, Haydn found a pair of shoes he liked and we got those.

Shoxless, we drove to The Sports Authority. They were out of Shox in Samson's size. We looked at many other shoes but didn't find anything that met Sam's needs.

We drove to Famous Footwear and arrived 10 minutes after they closed.

Saturday we woke up and, after football practice, went to Famous Footwear again. They had no Shox at all and out of the 100s of pairs of shoes they had, Sam didn't find any he really liked.

We drove to Tuttle Mall to visit The Finish Line. No Shox in Sam's size.

We drove to Westland Mall, which is not all that far from Famous Footwear, to visit The Finish Line there. They had Shox although the Shox they had were $30.00 more than the already insane amount the Shox we were looking for cost. We tried on the ungodly expensive Shox thinking we'd find the size that fit and order the insanely expensive pair for delivery. There was only one problem, the insanely expensive pair was not available when we went to order it.

In the end we got the ungodly expensive pair of shoes and put some conditions on their wear. No skateboarding in them, no digging holes in them, no "anything" but wearing them to school.

I have never paid as much for a pair of my own shoes as I paid for Sammo's and I normally get two pair for what I paid for his. I sweat over every dollar if I'm buying something for myself but am a little quicker to spend money on the children (or so it seems). Samson made it easy to buy the shoes as he wasn't in a whiney-I-need-these state; he was being a little gentleman.

A little gentleman with expensive tastes.

(We've already had the conversation in which I explain that spending a fortune for kids shoes will not be a recurring Wells-family theme.)

Posted by delmer at 8:42 AM | Comments (4)

August 18, 2007

The Perfect Storm of Sports Practices

It is a beautiful day in Central Ohio. It's cool and not humid at all.

Jack and Haydn had football practice at 8:30 this morning and both practices were at the same field. Many of you parents that have children participating in multiple activities will appreciate the rareness of this event. It is far more common to have two children needing to be at two different locations ten minutes apart from each other than it is to have to children at the same place at the same time.

Football practice was scheduled to end at 10:00 a.m.

But wait! There's a bonus.

Child three had soccer practice at 9:30 a.m. I know, it looks dicey. Would I be able to get him to soccer practice and then get to the other boys in time so that I'd look like a responsible father by not leaving them standing around alone too long.

As it happens, I would.

Soccer practice was at the same park.

Here's an incredibly poor-quality video of Samson (the 10-year old) practicing.

Posted by delmer at 11:38 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

August 7, 2007

Partay ... partay ...

The company I work for just turned 30. To celebrate we had a company party with engineers clowns, a band, a dunk tank, zoo animals, food, some sort of golf contest, a frog race, and other celebratory things.

My kids have been asking me for years about when the next big company party was going to be and when this one came up Jack said, "It's about time! You told us you were going to have them every four years."

Jack was not buying the fact that I would have never said "four years." I might have said "five years," but not four. In his defense, the last big party we had was five years ago when Jack was seven.

I don't know how I missed it, but somehow I don't have a picture of Jack in the dunk tank (which, actually, was a shower tank this year).

However, I do have these photos.

Haydn had his hair colored

Jack had a snow cone the same color as Haydn't hair.

A falcon.

A dingo.

A bad photo of a wallaby.

A cat of some sort. Maybe a cheetah.


A small horse and a smaller horse.

Posted by delmer at 9:19 PM | Comments (3)

July 22, 2007

Paint Shop

Haydn has reworked this photo:

And turned it into this.

He wanted you to know.

Posted by delmer at 9:56 PM | Comments (5)

July 3, 2007

Is This Progress?

For parents and others in the know …

The weeks the boys are with their mother I typically go through one tumbler. I drink out of it, I eat cereal out of it and sometimes, if I'm late for work and don't have time for a shower I use it as a bidet.

It's a really big tumbler. More of a five-gallon pickle bucket, actually.

Alright, I made that last bit up.

But I do drink out of it and sometimes have cereal out of it. In between uses I keep it in the fridge and I always rinse it after I use it.

My children, as a point of contrast, will use every glass in the house within two hours of being here.

I've spent months and months trying to break them of this. I certainly want them to use a clean glass when they need one but I don't think they need a new glass each and every time they get a drink of water. Especially when the drinks come just a few minutes apart.

This past week they seem to have caught on as, Friday night after they'd gone I found that a lot of the glasses had gone unused (of course, two of them had gone broken).

Sweet. They seem to have finally heard the message I was trying to send them.

I was left with that I-am-a-superior-father feeling and decided to celebrate by taking an super-long extra-hot shower.

At the end of said shower I reached into the cupboard for a towel.

There were none.

Every towel in the cupboard was gone; this was something new. The boys are usually pretty good about using a towel and hanging it up to dry (we're in agreement than when they come out of the shower they are clean and therefore unlikely to be making the towel dirty). We've never run out of towels — we have a lot in the cupboard.

I can't help but get the feeling they're trying to send me a message.

Posted by delmer at 11:00 PM | Comments (7)

May 26, 2007

Jack makes a crack

When I go to the store, the mall, the movie theater, basically anywhere, I'll park in one of the first spots I find. I never cruise around looking for the best spot and I'm typically in the store before anybody I've noticed driving up and down the rows looking for something close.

Today, at Target, I parked two aisles back from the heavy congregation of cars that is always close to the door even though I could see closer spots. It was one of those spots that let me pull all the way through so I could pull out without having to back up. The boys and I had to walk a few more steps but the overall parking experience is less of a hassle.

And I figure the walk does us good.

On the way out, as we passed a lot of empty spaces, Samson asked why it was I always parked so far from the store.

"Well," I said, "The walk doesn't hurt us." And as I finished that sentence Samson tripped and hit the ground.

Jack spun around and said, "It looks like the walk does hurt us."

Samson was fine. There was no blood and no tears.

And I was glad to see that Jack was at the top of his humor game.

Posted by delmer at 8:57 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

May 23, 2007

Master of the Semi-Obscure Reference

Haydn, the 13-year old, and I were having a disagreement over something. Let's say I was trying to get him to go to bed on time and he wanted to stay up a bit later.

"I promise I'll get right out of bed tomorrow without complaining," he said.

I countered with, "I wish I could believe you, but your track record isn't that good." Which meant, of course, that he'd made similar promises in the past and that he'd failed to keep them. That is, he got out of bed in a grumpy fashion.

"I was off by less than a foot," he replied quickly, leaving me to wonder what the hell he meant.

I changed the topic to picking crap up off the floor for a bit before tucking people in.

A minute later, as Haydn pulled the blankets up under his chin he said, "You didn't get it? Did you?"

"Get what?" I wondered aloud.

"When I said I was off by less than a foot."

"No. What did it mean?"

"In track … I needed to put the shot 26 feet and I made 25 feet 5 inches."

The boy gets 10s all the way across:

Quickness

Topical-Content Timeliness (track had just ended a few days before. It wasn't like he brought this up in mid-December)

Whatever you'd call it when the comment brings up a fact that sits on the edge of obscurity. You know, when the ability of the listener to either get the comment or miss it could go either way based on something as simple and unrelated to the topic as the amount of sunshine he or she was exposed to over the course of the day.

Posted by delmer at 11:26 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

April 29, 2007

Our Wacky Weekend

We had a big weekend in the Wells' household.

Friday night Jack had a baseball game in the drizzling cool rain at a location about an hour away from us. At the same time, Haydn had track practice at a location just a mile from where we live and then a dance to go to.

With the help of friends and teammates we were able to make it all work out.

Saturday we had track and baseball. One of the Track Moms was kind enough to provide transportation to and from Haydn's meet and picked him up at 8:15 a.m. After Haydn shot out the door Samson and I shot off to Mel's for breakfast (Jack would rather sleep than eat, I know that and, being Super Dad, try to respect his non-dangerous-to-himself wishes when I can). At Mel's we ran into one of our friends and Samson and I had post-breakfast ice cream, to celebrate her birthday, while she had eggs, toast and coffee. Always one to know how to show a woman a good time on her birthday (or the day after), I paid for her breakfast.

After breakfast, Jack, Sam and I drove to the same ballpark we'd been at Friday night. On the way there we stopped by White Castle so Jack could charge his batteries prior to the doubleheader. The first game was overcast and we had a chilly breeze blowing on us. The sun broke through for the second game and things were a bit warmer.

Saturday night we went to Target and bought Samson a practice amp for my 25-year old electric guitar — you know, for those times when things aren't noisy enough. The guitar required a bit of surgery to make it tunable — a spring had broken in whatever the part is that has springs (Hey, I don't know all the names of the parts … just about any bit that isn't called "a string" remains nameless to me … but I knew how to fix it. Wait, there might be a nut and a head. Also pickups Maybe tuning knobs. Oh, frets.)

Sunday we had a baseball game at noon. Jack's team won 12 to 2 and this led to a 4:30 game which created a conflict as Samson had soccer games at 3 and 4 at a field about 3/4 of a mile from where I live. The coach was kind enough to keep an eye on Jack and bring him home so I could get Samson to his first game pretty much on time.

After soccer Haydn and I worked out in the garage and then I mowed the yard and sprayed some weeds using the neighbor's male cat. Well, I really used a sprayer I have that I've cleverly painted a big P (for poison) on to distinguish it from the two other sprayers that I wonder why I own. I had to say the cat thing because the description of my weekend was starting to read like James Joyce (i.e., boring as hell) and it really wasn't like that at all. It was a great weekend.

Sunday night, after all the kids went to bed, I got out the fondue set, some paraffin, and did a little bit of evening up on the manly tree line.

Highlights from Jack's Games: Jack got on base a couple of times that I saw and may have gotten on once or twice when I wasn't around. One of his hits came when the team needed a hit; hits, as you know, are always good, but some come at better times than others. Jack stole second once. He hustled and tried hard. He had an error that he complained about but I missed seeing. He got a couple of hits to get on base and he walked to get on. He grounded out a couple of times and struck out a couple of times.

Highlights from Sam's Games: I was sitting on the side of the field talking with one of the dads and overheard, I thought, someone mention that they should put Samson at goalie as he does a good job there. Later, when Sam was doing goalie work, he scooped up the ball and gave it a big boot. I heard a man say, "Good gosh! Who kicked that?" to which a woman replied, "Samson. I told you he was a good goalie." Samson kicked the ball across midfield and about 1/2 between midfield and the opposing team's goal. He did it several times and I can't say that I saw anybody else kick the ball as far as midfield. It looks like all that time on the bicycle has done him good.

Personal Highlights: The boys had fun and were outside in the sun (and rain) bouncing around. They enjoy playing and I like the fact they like to play and feel good about their accomplishments.

Posted by delmer at 8:50 PM | Comments (3)

April 21, 2007

Rounding Out The Week

Wednesday I lost my phone to find it Thursday morning in my office and in vibrate mode.

Friday I lost my wallet only to find it in the washer and wet.

Today I rode The Mighty Schwinn to Grove City High School to watch Haydn put the shot. It's just over 20 miles from my door to GCHS and I arrived just a short bit before Haydn was up.

When I got off the bike I reached into my bike bag and, still suffering from handle-bar grip, pulled out my small camera bag within which was my camera. As I went to open the bag I sort of lost control of it and it tumbled form the ground. In all honesty I've dropped the camera several times and just a couple of weeks ago I knocked of off the picnic table onto the concrete patio while it was out of the bag.

As it tumbled to the ground I didn't even try to catch it; I knew it would be safe.

I picked it up, worked the kinks out of my hand, opened the bag, took out the camera, turned it on and watched the lens zoom out, and then went to frame a shot. The LCD was broken.

The camera still works, I just can't use the LCD viewfinder so I can't review photos I've taken and I'm going to be out of luck if I ever need to change the time or date.

This first photo was taken before the camera broke.

This is a picture of my seat and two of my water bottles. I'm going to share one of my cycling secrets with you — one that I think is very important. You'll notice that I prefer the urine-colored Gatorade. The reason for this is that while I'm not certain what magic the body employs to turn fluid a urine color I assume it must require some sort of energy that the body provides in the form of calories. When you're out on the road you need all of your caloric power to be going to the pedals, not to liquid-color conversion. I figure by choosing an already-urine-colored fluid I'm providing extra pedaling energy.

I eat only chocolate colored Clif Bars for a similar reason.

You might also notice that the nose of my seat is up. I think this is a trick of the camera angle or the way the bike is sitting on the driveway. I've angled the nose of the seat down just a bit for some extra-manliness comfort. Although if it is up a bit — or even level — that would explain a thought I had while I was pedaling: Why can't they design a seat that cradles the testicles like a hand does? That always feels good. The nose of the seat could even look like a hand and the seats could be named after women.

Younger guys might want the Beyoncé while guys my age might go for the Farrah Fawcett. And I'm talking the Charlie's Angels Farrah — not the present-day kinda-crazy Farrah … you know, unless that's what you're into.

I know I'd buy a Patricia Heaton, Courtney Thorne-Smith, Amanda Tapping and a Jamie Gertz without even giving them a test sit.

Of course, if the seats were made too well, it could lead to a state in which the rider needs to take a nap which isn't good when you're on bicycle. Then again, it could just as likely trigger the I-need-to-get-out-of-here-now response, which is good when you're on a bicycle.

[Women … before any one of you even suggests a Ron Jeremy for the gals … well, just think long and hard about it (no pun intended); is that really what you want when you're trying to keep SUVs from running you down. You'll be safer with a regular seat. If you need to you can hit a railroad track hard once in a while.]

The following photos were taken post-LCD cracking.

Haydn in t