Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Dollars and Dimes

My wife (a.k.a Motivated Mom) had the opportunity to do some beachcombing the other day. The pickings were pretty slim, but she did come home with some neat stuff - including sand dollars of various sizes.

And that got me started thinking. If the big specimens are called sand dollars, shouldn't the smaller ones be sand quarters and sand dimes?

And if so, would ten sand dimes be a fair exchange for one sand dollar? Or would the sand dollar, larger and more desirable, actually be worth fifteen sand dimes?

But then, should sand dimes really be called dimes if it would take fifteen of them to equal one sand dollar?

Now look what I've gone and done. I've turned a potentially relaxing stroll on the beach into an economic quandary.

Monday, September 29, 2008

The Cicada Index

Just so we're on the same page, the Cicada is that summertime insect that sits in trees making shrill buzzing noises. It's the sound many of us associate with a real scorcher of a summer day.

I heard one buzzing away today during lunch. The sound seemed out of place given the temperature was only in the 70s and was never going to climb higher. An endless parade of thick, gray clouds blocked out any hint of sunshine. Nevertheless, that one noisy cicada had me tugging at my shirt collar and wishing I had worn a lighter pair of pants.

It occurred to me that we need a new weather index - the cicada index.

It seems we're no longer concerned about actual temperatures anyway. It's all about the heat index and the wind chill factor. The weather report can have you wiping sweat from your forehead or shivering inside your coat even before you leave the house.

But I contend that the cicada is very bit as reliable as any heat index (just ask anyone who spends lots of time outside).

So my proposed Cicada Index is:

One cicada buzzing: Uncomfortably warm - wear light colored clothing

Two to five cicadas buzzing: Downright hot - drink plenty of fluids

Swarms of cicadas buzzing at ear damaging decibels: Forget work and school - find the nearest body of water.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Colors of Post-Summer

(A reminder that by unanimous decree of both myself and my wife, the season name of Fall has been replaced by Post-Summer.)

When we hear a reference made to the colors of Post-Summer, I'm willing to bet that all of us think of trees with their leaves changing color.

Walking on the boardwalk this weekend, it occurred to me that people are like trees.

Not all species of trees go through their post-summer transformations at the same time. Some trees continue to display rich, green leaves well after other types of trees are fully engulfed in a mix of colors - and some trees will be completely barren while others are still displaying their colorful bouquets.

This weekend I noticed that people, too, respond to post-summer on varying timetables. Some folks were still walking the boards in bathing suits and sandals, while other people were already layering sweatshirts over t-shirts. The bronze skin of devoted sun worshipers, intermingled with the whites, yellows, and blues of sweatshirts and bluejeans resulted in an assortment of colors equal to what can be seen on any tree.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Anticipation

It was the original version of You Have Mail - a parchment colored piece of paper stuck in the front door. The mail carrier was sorry that he had not found us at home. There was a piece of mail that needed to be signed for. The item could now be picked up at the post office the following day.

Once inside the house, I dropped the notice on the dining room table where it was quickly spotted by Media Girl. Wonder of wonders the notice was actually for Media Girl.

"What could it be?" Media Girl wondered aloud.

And then the barrage of questions started: What time does the post office open? Can we go first thing in the morning? Can you think of what it might be?

Was Media Girl actually asking Determined Dad if they could head for the post office at the crack of dawn?

Obviously Media Girl had forgotten the teenage commandment of thou shall sleep on Saturdays.

I awoke Saturday morning to find the nap in the carpet outside my bedroom door had been flattened by Media Girl's relentless pacing. Her anticipation level was off the charts.

And I realized I had discovered a new source of power - a way to mess with Media Girl's head when I get the urge. I'll send her a piece of mail - and I'll send it registered / return receipt. If I time it right, it could be days before we can to the post office during regular business hours.

Media Girl will go absolutely crazy with anticipation.

Friday, September 26, 2008

The Call and the Word

College Dude called me today. I'm always excited when he calls because, well he's my son and I like to hear from him. Problem is, I'm usually disappointed with the way the calls turn out. You see I'm not a very good ad lib conversationalist. Most of the time College Dude isn't either - unless he gets onto a subject he's passionate about. So our conversations are usually kind of dry and I worry that he doesn't know how much I enjoy hearing from him.

Because, you know, I couldn't just come out and say that now could I? - Oh, I think I just discovered a subject for another day.

Today's phone call turned out to be about financial stuff, but I was determined to get onto a subject College Dude was passionate about. Since his current focus is engineering I thought that might be a good direction. I quickly ran down a list of engineering terms I knew - and found the list to be short. As in non-existent.

Then College Dude saved the day when he told me there were two more people reading my blog regularly.

Cool, my readership was expanding......

EXPONENTIALLY!! That had to be an engineering related term!

So I said that into the phone (no not just the word - give me a little credit). I said "Wow, my readership is expanding exponentially.

To which College Dude replied, "Yeah, if you're working on a pretty short curve."

There really wasn't much more to say after that.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

The Most Wonderful Sound in the World

It has been extremely windy here today, and I wish it had been warmer so that I could have sat outside because the wind gusting through the trees is the most wonderful sound in the world.

I'm not talking about damaging winds that accompany hurricanes and tornadoes. I'm referring to a wind that is just strong enough to make a stout tree give a respective bow. The kind of wind that starts as a whisper half a mile away, grows to a rolling moan as it approaches, and finally roars overhead at a decibel level just high enough to erase any other sounds.

That sound - that wonderfully glorious sound - is something I can lose myself in. I exist only in that moment. For that moment that the wind rumbles overhead there are no concerns or troubles. There is no before or after, no yesterday or tomorrow. There is only that moment; the wind filling my ears.

The sound of rushing wind has been a magnet for me since I was 9 years old. When other kids were running to get their kites, I was running to nearby acres of tall field grass. Lying on my back, hidden within the three foot tall reeds, I would listen to the approach of the wind. So tempted I often was to stand and spread my arms on the chance that I would fly. But I knew the better course was to lie still and let my mind ride the roaring wave.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Cast of Characters and The Cell Phone

I have mentioned other members of my family in past postings - and will continue to do so in the future. Rather than always saying my wife, my daughter, my son; I feel like I should give them a persona that my readers can begin to identify with while preserving the anonymity of the real people. So here's the cast of characters:

Motivated Mom - My fantastic wife of 24 (nearly 25) years. Motivated Mom is the driving force behind our entire family. Her approach isn't always pretty - but it is generally effective.
I had a hard time deciding if it would be more appropriate for her cast member name to include Mom or Wife. Since I'll probably talk about interaction between my wife and children as much as between my wife and myself, I went with Motivated Mom. I reserve the right to deviate from this on occassion.

Determined Dad - Yours truly. When it works best to talk about myself in third person I'll use this character name. I'm a head down, determined to get through it, kind of guy - when I'm not being brilliantly creative.

College Dude - Our son who is attending the University of Pittsburgh. College Dude is majoring in electrical engineering with a minor in nuclear something or other. I have no idea why someone would willingly subject themselves to that.

Media Girl - Our daughter who is a junior in high school. Media Girl would be absolutely lost if she did not have constant access to multiple forms of communication media - cell phone, e-mail, instant messenger, land line.

Which brings me to today's observation. Media Girl has had a bad run with cell phones recently. Three weeks ago her cell phone died. I was prepared to call in the life support team, but Media Girl handled it better than I expected. She survived being phone free for a day and a half.

Wednesday morning the replacement phone went kaput. With her reserves already depleted by the previous battle with withdraw, Media Girl looked like she might go down for the count. Motivated Mom saved the day by promising the loan of her own phone during the evening hours.

As I type this, Media Girl is desperately trying to get the deceased phone to take at least enough charge to enable the local phone store to be able to transfer the extensive list of phone numbers to the next replacement phone.

In case that does not work, I have the resuscitation unit standing by.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

How Do You Pill A Cat?

We took our cat, Sugar, to the vet the other day because he was obviously sick. I'll spare you the details.

After a full set of blood panels and other tests that I correctly suspected were going to have a major impact on my checking account balance, the conclusion was:
"Sugar is in very good overall health but something is bothering him and we're unable to pinpoint a specific cause." (I paid hundreds of dollars for this?)

The vet sent us home with a couple of syringes, some liquids to fill the syringes with and a bottle of pills. No doubt the word DANGER that had previously been marked in bold letters on the top of Sugar's health history card had caught the vet's eye and he had elected not to stick the cat himself. Sugar has shredded as many veterinarian arms as he has scratching posts.

So home we went with all of our medicines.

Have you ever try calling here kitty kitty while you are holding a syringe in your hand? Give it a try if you ever want to get a good look at the back end of your cat.

As for the pills... I buried a pill in a ball of cream cheese and offered it to Sugar. In my sweetest cutsie voice I said "This is just for you pretty kitty."

After fixing me with a long, suspicious, narrow eyed stare, Sugar cautiously sniffed at the cheese. Just about the time I thought my finger would cramp up, Sugar swallowed the entire creamy blob - and then spit the pill back out. This cat could give Houdini a run for his money.

So now how am I going to pill this cat?

Monday, September 22, 2008

Post-Summer Lives On

After reading my last post, my wife insisted she HAD NOT put up the fall decorations around our house. She had put up the post-summer decorations. To emphasize her point, and "to correct any earlier misconceptions", she took out the magic marker and changed the labeling on the storage box for the decorations.

I'm glad she did not let me succumb to disillusionment that our new name for the season would not catch on.

Post-Summer beats Fall any day.

Post-Summer elicits a sense of a warm, cozy transition. Summer is not a distant memory, it's just morphing into something else. Sure there will be chilly mornings and evenings - but the warm sunny afternoons have not gone away.

There are just no good connotations conjured up by Fall. If you fall, you get hurt. If regimes fall, there is chaos.

Post-Summer suggests sunny afternoons in a hammock.

Fall suggests barren trees and cold, windy days.

Post-Summer is the clear winner. Start using it in your conversations today!

Welcome to Autumn

I have to admit that in recent years I have been depressed by Autumn's arrival. It signals the end of the summer and the approach of winter. In fact last year my wife and I renamed the seasons of the year to pre-summer, summer, post-summer, and Christmas.

Yet we still put up fall decorations which I guess means that somewhere deep down inside we knew our new season names weren't going to stick.

For the past few days, the mornings have started with a definite crispness in the air. Much to my surprise, I have NOT been depressed by that. I have found it invigorating, accompanied by a sense of aniticipation.

But anticipation of what? Certainly not winter. Maybe it's just the anticipation of change. Goodness knows we could all use change in our lives right now. Change from the bad news we find everytime we turn on the T.V., sign onto the internet, or pass a gas station.

So I'll gladly accept the surprise anticipation and invigoration and extend my welcome to Autumn.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Seagulls get a bad rap

People have all sorts of derogatory descriptions for seagulls: noisy, dirty, belligerent, rats of the bird world...

But I realized today that seagulls have a wonderfully dry sense of humor that goes unappreciated.

I was at the beach for a few hours this afternoon. The ocean was particularly rough and threatening to invade prime beach towel territory.

A series of strong waves finally drove a surge of water up the sandy embankment, over the crest, and deep into that stretch of water-front sand so valued by beach goers.

All as one, sunbathers were leaping from their towels and springing from their chairs; starting first in one direction and then switching to another as they tried to decide whether to first save the towels, the beach bags, or the buckets of sand toys.

...And there stood a trio of seagulls, bobbing their heads and shrieking out their high pitched laughter as they watched people stumble and scatter like.... well, like a flock of startled birds.

A blog is born

I know, just another one in about 6 million blogs floating around in the blogosphere.

But if you check in regularly I believe you'll find observations on life that you can relate to, laugh at, roll your eyes over, or ignore altogether.

Today I'm wondering who ripped a chapter out of my copy of Parents Guide to Child Rearing. You know, the book that magically appears under the bed pillow on the night you and your significant other first conceive. The book that leads you step by step, unfaltering, through the life and times of your offspring.

The chapter I'm missing is: What to do when your child no longer fears your wrath.

Come to think of it, I believe I'm also missing the chapter on creating a wrath your child will fear.

Not meaning to sound like I'm just rephrasing the tired old "when I was your age" but...

When I was sixteen, if my parents let their wrath out of the closet, I did everything I could to camouflage myself.

In the parent / child encounter that took place today (I'm the parent now - just so there's no confusion) my wrath left my daughter powdering her nose and stifling a yawn.