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Zane:  Hey, Dad?  Can we start going to church a little more often?

Me:  Well, sure.  I suppose that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.  Why do you ask, though?

Zane:  Because, Lent starts tomorrow and I just thought it would be a good thing to do for Lent.

Me:  (Thinking about what a good kid he is.)  You’re absolutely right.  We should make an effort to go to church more often.  So Lent, huh?

Zane:  Yeah.

Me:  So, Zane—-What are you giving up for Lent?

Zane:  (Pausing just a moment to think, looked up with a sincere smile and proudly announced…)      CARROTS!

So here’s the dilemma.  I have an iPod.  That’s not the dilemma–it’s more of a pain in the ass.  My computer has decided it no longer wishes to recognize iTunes or the hard drive associated with it and as such iTunes is inaccessible.  I can’t even delete it and re-install because it keeps wanting to go back into the same directory (which doesn’t exist!).

I’ve tried to reassign the drive where there is (or was) a working copy of the application.  However, as a dude not quite three IQ points from officially being declared functionally illiterate, I fear if I press too many buttons I’m going to lose a lot more than iTunes.

Now as frustrating as all of that may be, my problem is not with iTunes.  Of course you can see that it is but that’s not my immediate problem.  OK, so if the application doesn’t work and I have no present idea of how to get it to work it may seem to be an immediate problem but that’s not what this is about.

No, my concern today–not so much a concern or even dilemma as I stated above–but my reason for such incoherent rambling is a playlist.

I need one!

For some ungodly reason,
I have it in my head that I should start exercising.  (Two days in a
row, now.  Check!!)  I know, it’s madness!  Anyway, I’m looking for
inspiration, motivation to move this gelatinous mass that has become my
body.  I have no clue as to what I should include in a playlist–something to
keep me moving, not too fast but I don’t want to fall asleep either.

You see, on this iPod of mine there are just over 6000 songs, 16.8 days worth according to the handy little information bar at the bottom of the music library in my now inaccessible iTunes.  Sixteen days and no repeats.  Well, that’s not true.  There may have been a time or two when I downloaded a song, liked it and later decided to download the whole album.  Yeah, I’m that old–a collection of songs by a band, neatly packaged and arranged in any format presented to the public for consumption still is to me, and always will be, an album.  Six thousand songs and I can’t seem to organize 30 or 45 minutes into an acceptable mix.

Here’s where you come in dear reader.  I need music.  I’m asking for your suggestions.  What music should be included in my exercise mix?  As a rule, and I don’t have many, no country–no rap.  I’ve never been a fan of the twanginess of country. I know, it’s changed over the years but seriously, you’re talking to a guy here who still uses terms like album and records.

And rap!  Lord, I just don’t have the angst.  Seriously.  It’s just not in me, unless I listen to rap.  Then I want to kill someone–usually a rapper.  If you suggest rap, I will be forced to chastise you for the freak you are.  So other than that, I’m wide open here.

So what do you think?  What music needs to be piped into my ears as I methodically and painfully plod along under the guise of doing something better for me?

Without intending it, the couch, a most accommodating place to watch some late night television, became something more.  Soft, warm and well…horizontal, I was no match for it’s powers of sedation.

A late movie and some channel surfing.  Mindless entertainment.  A chance to rewind and recharge.  Comfortable in the late hours of the night became unbearable by morning.  The cushions that softly cradled my back just a few hours earlier had turned on me knotting and twisting me in a manner most vile.

I awoke to the carefree laughter of children eager to greet the day.  They bounced on the couch, oblivious to the fact that was where I had spent the night.  Their concerns were not of my discomfort or how much or little sleep I may have had.  They were up and expected me to be also.

I forced a smile because that’s what they expect.  It’s what they deserve.  And  I prepared breakfast.  (They expected that, too.)   It didn’t take long for the forced smile to become natural.  The pain of a cold, restless night on the couch was dulled by the soothing comfort and warmth of children who are happy.

Yeah, it’s gonna be a pretty good day…..well, as soon as the Motrin and coffee kicks in.

When Zia arrived home from preschool yesterday morning it took her all of two minutes to notice the empty mugs and half-filled marshmallow bag still lying on the counter.  Probably not that long.

“What the…they got hot chocolate?” she asked incredulously, clearly stunned that she had not been invited.

“Well, yes, Zia.  The twins wanted to play outside this morning and it was pretty cold.  So we had hot chocolate after they came back inside.”

“I want hot chocolate!” she exclaimed.

“Zia, they got it because they played outside.”

“OK……(pause)….(pause)….Can I go outside?”

“Sure.”

So over the next ten minutes Zia gathered her boots, her gloves, her snow pants, hat, coat, scarf…(Did I mention it was cold outside?)  Carefully, she assembled herself and made ready to go outside and play.

“OK, Zia.  Have fun,” I called to her as she headed out of the door.

3…

2…

1…

Seriously, it was less than a minute.

Zia walked back into the house and proclaimed, “Whew!  It’s cold out there.  Now can I have some hot chocolate!!”

Nice try, little girl.

Zia:  Dad, you’re funny.

Me:  Funny–ha, ha??

Zia:  No, Dad.  Funny–CRAZY!

From the mouths of babes….  And she looks so innocent.

Little moments of happiness.  There’s this…..

Or this….

Did I say happiness? That should have been little moments where pride bursts from every pore of my being!!  Don’t stand too close to me–it could get messy.

Every once in while, a song just catches me in the right way.  Whether it’s a really catchy riff, a unstoppable toe-tapping beat, a rhythm that will have me banging my head or lyrics that make me think, giving reason to pause.

Such was the case this morning while cleaning the kitchen after breakfast.  OK, so it really doesn’t take much to get me to stop cleaning–work with me here.  This song came up in the rotation and I kept thinking, “Where do I know that voice?”  It took a few minutes.

Here’s another thing I like about music.  I really like listening to an artist mature, grow up as it were.  The music they did in my youth touched me as a kid speaking to me where I was at that stage of my life.  But I’ve grown up (again, work with me, here–how about I’ve aged) and this guy’s music is again kind of touching me where I am.

It’s also just kind of a cool song for a Saturday morning.

Oh, and Happy Valentines Day.

I realize now, that I have been an enabler.  Your addictions–as harmless as they may appear–are are addictions none-the-less.  And the time has come to face facts.  I am accepting my role.  I am owning my part.

You must do the same.

Things are going to be different.  Changes must be made.  In the long run it’s going to be good for all of us.    I’m taking charge.

Today!

I am serving notice that demons must slayed–vices laid to rest.  You’re ready–you can do this!

We can do this!

Together!

Now give me the diaper….

(As if you really wanted to know about this–but it’s what I do.  Today we began the full on potty training.  In the first 20 minutes Zella has sat on the toilet twice with 2 successful outcomes.  Zander has sat on the toilet twice and peed all over the playroom floor.  Ugg!)

“Dad….I’ve got something to tell you and you’re probably going to be mad.”

“Oh, I don’t know Zoë.  When you put it to me like that.”

“Did my teacher call you?”

“Oh Lord, Zoë.  No, she didn’t What is it this time?”

“I got detention.”

“For what??!!”

“Not doing my homework.”

I suppose I should stop the recounting of our conversation here.  Zoë does her homework.  Daily.  We have a homework routine that would rival many Harvard scholars.  I credit my wife here for if it were left to me, the kids would wile away the afternoon hours idly playing in mud puddles, counting clouds and throwing rocks into the river.

As it is, we spend the time more productively with our studies: reading, mathematics, geography, spelling….you know–school stuff.  To that mix there are a couple of study books in which Zoë is to complete daily lessons.  Her only task is to make sure she brings the books home each night so that she can complete the lessons and return them to school the next morning to be checked.

Zoë has yet to embrace the significance of her daily shuttle missions and on more than one occasion forgotten the books at school.  According to her detention slip–4 times.  Seems her teacher was counting.  (I know.  It really seems pretty benign but there are rules…..sigh)

So my little girl, my trail blazer, my rebel is scheduled to serve her first detention.  (Notice I said first.  There will be more–of this I feel certain.)  True to form, though, detention is just one more check on Zoë’s Great List of Adventures.

She was busy yesterday evening making wardrobe plans for the next dress down day.  I told her that maybe she shouldn’t be so hasty there as if she recalls she had just informed me she was serving detention.  Maybe there should be some consequences to that.

“But, Dad,” she said smiling, almost giddy.  “There’s not.  I just get to sit with the teachers for a while after school!”

Getting Zoë to practice her piano is not unlike giving a bath to a cat.  Have you ever tried to put a cat in a bathtub?  In any tub?  Here’s a bit of advice.  They don’t like it.  A cat feels that it’s very own scratchy tongue is sufficient for any cleaning that is necessary and that water is only needed to quench a thirst.  Try to put a cat in a bathtub–someone’s gonna get hurt!

I feel like this most days when trying to get Zoë to complete a piano lesson.  The kid is smart as a whip and reads beautifully, but she refuses to attempt to read music.  She’s content to plow through feeling her way and playing pieces by ear.  Memorizing.  It’s an admirable trait–enviable actually.  I wish I could do it.  But it’s frustrating all the same when it comes to getting her to focus on her lessons.

Zoë’s latest conquest has been Beethoven’s Fur Elise.  She is nowhere near ready to perform the piece, but I am amazed at how much progress she had made without having looked at the music. Her piano teacher has been helping her during her weekly lessons and will scribble notes on a blank piece of sheet music but for the life of me I can’t decipher any of it.

Well, this week I pulled out the video camera to try and entice Zoë to work harder.  This is where we are.  I think we should start with trying to figure out the actual name of the song…

As you can see, there’s plenty of work to be done!  At least she’s having fun.

Today marks the 100th Day of the school year.  Not that I’ve been counting, but the school has.  And my kids have certainly marked the day for themselves.  It’s a dress down day.  (That’s a big deal when you have to wear a uniform to school every day.)

Yet for some reason, this dress down day meant more work for me.  Isn’t that always the case?

For it was not just any dress down day but a celebration of the 100th day and a huge school spirit kind of day.

Complete with face painting….

And green hair!

(It’s supposed to be a fleur de lis—in case you were wondering.  It was early and I had not had nearly enough coffee!)

Enjoy your quiet lives today, tomorrow you all become rock stars….

Excerpt from an e-mail I received yesterday from my boss.

“Boss???” I hear you asking.  Yes, well as laughable as the idea may seem, I have indentured myself to one Whit Honea.  (Yes, that Whit Honea.)  He’s the lead editor for the UpTake Vacations Blog Team of which I am a member.  I’ve mentioned it before.  There’s even a fancy badge in my sidebar.  Look for it.  Click it.  It’s all true.

The gig is great.  I get to do stuff I would normally already be doing with my family like go the the zoo or the park or to Gallipolis.  Then, I get to write about it over at UpTake and in return, I am promised fame and notoriety.

Tomorrow….

Each month I submit my travel vouchers, meal vouchers, admission receipts, gas charges, air fare and utility bills to UpTake.  Whit looks them over and reminds me that none of that shit is covered to stop sending it to him.

I kind of feel like Carl Spackler and Whit is my Dali Lama…“Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the
effort, you know.” And he says, “Oh, uh, there won’t be any money, but
when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness.”
So I got that goin’ for me, which is nice.”

Anyway…Today Uptake ran it’s official press release where-in the travel blog network was announced.  You have to look real close to find mention of me.  It’s hidden.  Deep.  Really deep.  They used cryptic words like expert blogs and local travel experts and writers.  That’s me!

Maybe you should try this link.  It will take you to the bio page for the Vacations Blog Team.

And now, I shall bask in all of the glory that is fame.  Also, just because I can, I’m going to rock star my living room.  Wait, my damn kids already beat me to it!  Oh well.  At least I can send the bill to Whit!