My Two Cents

Great Aunt

Sat, 26 Jul 2008 00:51:27 -0500

Kathy’s Aunt Linda is here for a visit and it is such a hoot to have her here. There’s some kind of extra electricity in the air when she’s around, and yet she’s also such an easy guest to have in our home. She is nicely self-sufficient and easy-going but also anxious to be shown a good time - what could be better than that? And even though she hails from St. Louis which has so much to offer, she always seems so appreciative of what she gets to experience in little old Racine. (unlike some visitors from big cities who seem to go out of their way to say things like “this is pretty good, but if you really want good sushi, there’s this place back in San Francisco that is to die for!” Thanks but no thanks.)

Both Kathy and I are big fans of Linda, but without a doubt the president of Linda’s fan club right now is Lorelai. The two of them have hit it off famously... thanks at least in part to the wonderful presents that Linda brought with her. Chief among them is a cool little game / toy called Crocodile Dentist. . . which is a plastic alligator head with a big mouth that opens to reveal 16 teeth that can be pushed in. Each time you open up the crocodile’s mouth there is a different tooth that is geared to make the mouth snap shut when that particular tooth is pressed down. . . so each and every time you have no way of knowing which tooth will be the one. It was a perfect game for Lorelai, who is starting to revel in the excitement of unpredictability. (She is young enough to still enjoy our jack-in-the-box, even though she knows exactly in the song when the lid will suddenly pop up - there is no mystery or surprise involved anymore. But you can also tell that the days are drawing to a close where it will entertain her the way it does now.)

It is neat to see Linda and Lorelai together for many reasons- but perhaps chief among them is that Lorelai’s Grandma Jan (Kathy and Polly’s mom) is no longer with us and Lorelai has only the vaguest memories of her. But if she can’t be here, at least her one and only sister can be- and when Linda is here, stirring up excitement, it feels like her older sister is lurking behind the scenes, smiling and laughing and loving us from across the great divide.

pictured: Linda and Lorelai in the middle of a game of Crocodile Dentist.

Guilt Trip

Fri, 25 Jul 2008 10:48:38 -0500

I took quite a guilt trip this morning at WGTD as I recorded an interview with Dr. Nicholas Dodman, director of the Animal Behavior Clinic at Tufts University’s CUnnings School of Veterinary Medicine. His newest book is titled “The Well-Adjusted Dog: Seven Steps to Lifelong Health and Happiness for Your Best Friend.” Just from the title, I should have known that I was in for it, because I know that Kathy and I do a lot of things wrong with Bobbi and Ellie- me more than her. And what’s maddening is that some of our misdeeds stem from neglect due to our insanely busy lives- and some of other misdeeds stem from the guilt we feel which leads us to over-indulge them with treats. You add those two things up and we end up being Exhibit A for Poor Pet Parenting.

Where Dr. Dodman really lowered the boom on me (I keep wanting to type “yours truly” but my brother Steve can’t abide that figure of speech) was in the whole matter of exercising one’s dogs. The title of chapter one says it all: A Tired Dog is a Good Dog. . . but it’s more than just tiring out a dog so they’re too tired to chew a hole in your wall. It’s also about keeping your dogs physically healthier and also emotionally and mentally happier.

And wouldn’t you know it. . . on his chart’s book which splits various dog breeds into Strollers, Joggers and Runners (with escalating need for exercise) our golden retrievers are squarely part of the last category - - - needing high levels of exercise.

This is not exactly earthshaking news, especially to my wife, who has done lots of reading about dogs and how to care for them - and she has been quite persistent if only occasionally successful in lobbying for us to engage in much more dog-walking. I always stomp around and grumble as though I were a second grader whose turn it is to sweep the garage . . . and then it never turns out to be as bad as I envisioned. And maybe one of these days, I will make the connection ahead of time and remember that it isn’t as boring and frustrating as I always fear and spare my wife the headache of listening to my mini-tirades. Of course, what would make me happiest of all is if they could invent some sort of jumbo-sized treadmill in which I could do my think (with book in front of me, of course) and with the dog at my side, exercising at the same time. Until such a device is invented, I just have to do this - not because it’s my favorite thing to do but because it’s the right thing to do. I’ve heard that adulthood (and parenthood, especially) are full of such activities.

pictured: Kathy walking the dogs several days ago at Petrifying Springs. I’m along, too (taking the picture). Pretty place, isn’t it?

The Shot-Poop

Thu, 24 Jul 2008 17:13:32 -0500

Were it not for the title of this entry, you would have no idea what I’m doing in this picture- and even the pun probably doesn’t make it abundantly clear. In our household, we call this “scooping poop” and we do it every time we’re about to mow the lawn - and especially when someone else is about to mow our lawn. (One of my voice students, Ben, is working off his lessons by mowing our lawn. . . which is why I have been especially cheerful for the last two weeks.) Anyway, normal people walk around the yard with some sort of implement with which they pick up said matter and deposit it into a bucket or bag for later disposal.

Not me. I figured out some time ago that I could pick up the “stuff” with our tool - in our case, something that looks a little like giant salad tongs - and fling it into our ravine as though I was doing the hammer throw. (If I had to do it like the shot put, I would probably wouldn’t. Picture it. Ewww!) It is the most amazing time saver since Minute Rice- and I am successful about 98% of the time. That means that maybe 2% of the time my throw is off-kilter and I end up scattering the “load” (so to speak) all over the lawn rather than sending it soaring into the ravine. And sometimes I just come up a little bit short, in which case I have to retrieve it and then try again. (I hope I never get so muscular and so technically adept that I start over-shooting the ravine, because then I’ll be sending unwanted projectiles into the backyards of the innocent folks on Lakeview Avenue. I can’t imagine that would be well-received.)

I’m glad my wife lets me perform this manly duty my way because this actually makes it sort of fun - even the initial “gathering” phase of the operation, which starts to feel a little like an Easter Egg hunt, minus the pretty pastel colors.

I just figured out what this also looks like. . . it’s almost like one-half of those shooting contests that made Annie Oakley so famous, except that no one is around with shotgun in hand to shoot these projectiles out of the air. (And I would be scared to put a shotgun in my wife’s hands while I’m doing this. She might be tempted to aim for something else.)

This will have to count as the ‘power tools blog entry’ I promised you a couple of days ago. Hope you enjoyed it.

pictured: I had to do some fast talking to get my wife to take a photo of me doing this - I guess she’s so relieved that she doesn’t have to do it that she is willing to do just about anything to keep me content.

Money Well Spent

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 16:34:24 -0500

Kathy had to babysit our niece yesterday (I should rephrase that: Kathy had to take out the garbage yesterday. Kathy got to babysit our niece yesterday) and while I could have joined in the fun, I opted instead for an hour and fifteen minutes on the treadmill at Razor Sharp. (I went just over four miles, which is a new high for me.) But I came over after that, and decided that I couldn’t walk in the door empty-handed, and since I was already stopping at Walgreen’s to bring Kathy some Pepto Bismol, I decided to find something there that Lorelai would enjoy. The options were endless, and most were fairly junky, but I finally settled on a big squishy ball with funny soft nodules all over it - like some sort of strange sea anemone - and I could guarantee it would be a hit because it was I bought the only one in the bin that was PINK, Lorelai’s favorite color. The ball was good sized- maybe the size of a small bowling ball - and I walked into the house with it hidden under my shirt, which made me look like I was expecting triplets- tomorrow.
The mystery of what was under my shirt gave us a chance to quiz her- she poked at it and could feel that it was very sort, so we asked her - judging from its size and consistency - is it a pumpkin? is it a golf ball? is it a tomato? etc. Finally, there was the great unveiling and she let out a squeal as though I had just brought her half of the merchandise from ToysRus and promised her a trip to Disney World. And from there she and the ball were inseparable pals. . . and I watched for awhile before moseying over to Mark and Polly’s laptop and checking out some things on Amazon.

A few minutes later it dawned on me - as I watched Kathy and Lorelai playing - that if life had played out differently and I had been a dad, this scenario would have played out again and again and again. . . being gone to rehearsals or class or lessons or whatever, breezing in with a bribe/gift - and then very quickly settling into a chair to do whatever it is I was anxious to do - but not give my child the attention they deserved. Maybe. Maybe not. But a voice inside me tells me that I am more Uncle material than Dad material.

Whatever- I’m going to keep on buying pink balls at Walgreens and will keep reminding myself to do more than drop it into my niece’s lap as though I were paying a late fee at Blockbusters. Next time and thereafter, maybe I will remember to play with her and her new ball! What a concept!

pictured: Lorelai with her new ball. It was one of the blurrier pictures taken, but it really captures her delight.

Falling in Love with a Robot

Tue, 22 Jul 2008 23:50:56 -0500

Monday night, while hundreds of people were swarming into Tinseltown’s first, second and third auditoriums to see “Dark Knight” (the latest Batman movie) Kathy and I were seated in an otherwise empty auditorium watching WALL-E, the latest masterpiece from the gifted folks at Pixar. Actually, we were the only two people in the theater until the opening credits were rolling; at that point, two high school guys slipped in at the side, making a grand total of four people to watch one of the best films of the year. Granted, WALL-E has been out for several weeks now but it still made me a little sad to see this endearing little robot being crowded aside so soon, before everyone has had a chance to see him on the big screen. (This is most emphatically a film worth seeing in a movie theater - waiting for it to come out on DVD is a grave mistake.)

Normally, the only way I would get Kathy to see a sci-fi film is by kidnapping her father and threatening to do him bodily harm unless she went with me . . . but I didn’t have time to do that this time around. I just asked her - and in a moment of weakness, she said yes. . . probably thinking of this more as a cartoon than a sci fi film. . . and lo and behold, she loved it almost as much as I do. It helps that this movie is, at its heart, a love story between two robots- WALL-E, who’s a clunky, clanky, garbage compactor / and EVE, who’s an incredibly sleek and advanced botanical probe. (Think Romeo and Juliet but with transistors.) It’s also a film with a couple of powerful messages about treating our planet with care and about not allowing ourselves to become hopelessly, helplessly addicted to computer screens at the expense of experiencing the real world around us. . . although I liked the fact that the film does not get bogged down in the moral of the story or hit us over the head with it.

What is especially impressive to me is how remarkably alive yet believable WALL-E is. He has an absolutely endearing personality and we fall in love with him- and yet, it feels like he’s a real robot. Of course, he’s an exceptional robot (not all robots are hooked on songs from “Hello, Dolly”) but nonetheless he is both a “him” and an “it.” That’s because they made him clunky - with parts that fall off or get dented - other parts that rust - and even speckle him with grit and grime. And it’s a good thing, too, because if they hadn’t taken such care in creating WALL-E, then the love story with EVE would lose all of its impact and poignancy. I’m reminded of one of my favorite books growing up, which was titled “The Runaway Robot.” The robot in question belonged to a young boy who was going to have to give him/it up because his family was about to move to a different planet. Boy and Robot run away together and have all sorts of misadventures. . . and although it all ends happily, they have a very rough time trying to stay one step ahead of the law. I read that and was completely enchanted with the idea of having my own Robot - - - but I’m realizing now in retrospect that one essential ingredient in making the story work was in how believably crafted the robot was . . . having some very human characteristics, yet being unmistakably mechanical as well. (Lazy writers make robots into human beings that just happen to be made of wires. It’s much trickier and more impressive to create a robot that is an intriguing, blended mix of machine and man.) The creators of WALL-E have achieved the same delicate balancing act, and that is so essential to this story and its ultimate success.

Anyway, it’s an incredible film - and one of my reactions to it is that if I had somehow been given a budget of a zillion dollars and all the time in the world, I never could have come up with this concept or a movie 1/100th as good as this one. . . whereas when I go to other movies I often feel like I could probably do just about as good as the director did. . . if not better. (How pompous is that?) This took such vision - such creativity - such originality - and I can only bow in humility before the geniuses who created this. And now having seen it twice (I saw it the first time with Marshall) I am ready to see it a third and fourth time. I laughed and laughed - and was made to think - and also had a lump in my throat at several points. And by the way, the little short film before it is hysterically funny . . . I was in danger of rupturing my intestines from laughing so hard. (But what a way to go!)

So if you still can, get thee to a movie theater and see WALL-E. But do not delay, lest ye taste the bitterness of disappointment.

pictured: an entirely illegal photo I snapped during WALL-E. In this photo, WALL-E is “conversing” with his good friend, the cockroach.