The Talk

     My son Aaron is six.  The other day I had to give him The Talk. No, not THAT Talk
(though it's coming soon enough-he Really. Likes. Girls.) This was the other talk.  No, not the Death talk either, we've done that(and will again, I'm sure)

No this is the talk about "When you see something on t.v., or the net, or yes perhaps in print....and you get it home, and you follow the info-graphics, and then...it just isn't right. No, Dad can't make it be right either. No, If we took it back to the store for that they would give us another one JUST LIKE IT, and it still wouldn't be right, cause this thing or that isn't made quite right.

It takes a long time to get that essential not rightness of the world across to kids.  Some, more than others.

And, it's always kind of sad when you have to see when it clicks with them. That little, corresponding click in their eyes, the slight fading or brightening of the light in their eyes from the shock and disappointment. If tears are gonna happen, it's usually then.

It's not the shock of Dad can't fix this because it just IS, or about a particular toy. It's nothing that easy.

It's about trust in the rightness of the world, just a little thing the kids may hardly notice themselves sometimes.

But, you'll see that look again, and you know it... and again...and again...

The balance trick here is perhaps to help them trust in the rightness of the world again. Point out those little extra-rights and better than imagined things that occur in our worlds. Positive affirmation time.

And you still gotta be honest about that "some things, some times just aren't gonna be right, or maybe even alright" thing. And that has to be alright too.


What did I leave out?

Standing in the back garden, blinking in the unusual sun, like some just un-earthed thing,  I'm startled by a sudden loud buzzing just to one side of my head. It is not, as I thought for a split second, the world's largest bumble bee. I've just been buzzed by a humingbird. Is that good luck or just a good omen, either would be fine, really.

Suzzy V - go find her & listen

Ok, this one is very hard to find for free on the net(legally, which is how I roll...)

Find a copy of Suzanne Vega's Beauty & Crime. No, Really, Go-Find-It.(yes, right now) Tracks 7  and 8. Bound & Unbound. The string arraignments alone in Bound would make it worth finding, Lyrics will cut you deep, if you've ever been where of she's relating.  Over tones - haunting.  Unbound starts out seeming almost "Walkin' on Sunshine" pop, then redeems itself admirably.  It works as a stand alone piece, but works best following bound. Kind of like sherbet after a really heavy-duty red curry dish. 

The rest of the collection is also very good, but these two cuts especially are ... Favs.

Mother's Day with Ginny & Aaron

This last Sunday was, of course, Mother's Day.  After a leisurely morning we headed off down the road to the Evergreen Aviation Museum near McMinnville . It's where they keep the famed Spruce Goose, which may yet be the largest airplane to ever fly. Certainly the largest wooden one. It's really huge. Aaron went BANANAS in all his Mildly Autistic six year old Glory. Besides seeming frantic to see/hear/do EVERYTHING. AT. ONCE. he really enjoyed himself. He was, at times, as frustrated with my direction as I was with his apparent lack of attention to directives(I know, it's part of his thing). I did my best to kid wrangle in as good a combination of tolerance and effectiveness as could. It was definitely a balancing act.  

Ginny, bless her heart, was typically mellow and tolerant towards both of us and our usual fray of wills and wants.  I think she was just glad to get out of the house and be with her "boys" somewhere different.

In the end, it's the memories, greatly if not exclusively happy, that count for all of us I think.

'nuff said.

Middle Aged Grooming

You know you're Middle Aged Man when you cut the inside of your ear lobe - shaving. Or say, when you find that you now require reading glasses to shave. Shown: that tricky up-under the reading glasses eye brow trim.  Some times I seem to feel & remember the full wieght and circumstances of my life and times that brought me to where I find myself now.  Other times, I still seem to be looking out of the eyes and mind of my youth. Like Billy, in Slaughterhouse Five, who frequently became "unstuck in time".  I often have this fleeting wonder as I wake, where and when I'll be when I open my eyes.   One of my Grandaughters just celebrated her fourth birthday today. Happy Brithday, Zoe!

Aaron's night out

Last evening, the Fam went to McDonald's. That's unusual. Nutrition, Economics, yada, yada.

Aaron's elementary school was having a "Mc'Teacher's Night". His school teachers were there, busing tables, selling cookies, etc. The school is to get 20% of the night's take. Happy Meals Everywhere! There was running(back and forth to the play ground thing), and screaming(none in pain or fright though), There were flat screen monitors on the wall, playing Disney Channel(i-Carly).  He had a great time. We had a good time. It was...ok, no, better than ok.  ON one level, I should be concerned that A: It's McDonald's - WITH our school. Big Corporate McDonalds. Hmmmm......B: Um, Cholesterol. Ah, well, perhaps once in a great while won't send us all to early graves or Hell, aye?

working on a boat, rock reviews 101

This is the last one. Gel coat is a bitch. I've been working on gel coat, learning how to coax a factory like finish onto a basically messed up hull. For about ten years. If I haven't got it down now, I'm not gonna.  I can get some good results.It just costs me too much. Too much time, makes it very hard to make any money. a repair job is only worth so much.  Too much worry, Is this gonna work?  Did I just create a lot more trouble for myself?   Is this going to be done in time for the owner's schedualed departure?

Still, there are times, when all one can do is sand it, see what you've got.  And that's a good time, sometimes. It can be very Zen-craftsman feeling.  While I'm doing that, I like to listen to music on the headphones as I go.   Some of those tunes, from the 70's, the 80's , 90's and even now are timeless classics. More than that, they are, as someone said,  Instruments of Truth.

Yesterday, at  one point, I had called up some mid Seventies Steely Dan. Countdown to Ecstasy.  Boston Rag. Walter Becker on guitar, Donald Fagen, keyboards.  Musically, technically, and lyrically, these two guys create a powerful team. To me, a fifty something father, grandfather, continuing rock devotee, regular guy(mostly), this is music my children and grandchildren need to know.  More important history than who did what to who back when. To that end,  I'm thinking of a series of reiviews, or possibly just relistens of old and new music. We'll call it Boomer Music 101.

This is not one of those.  I  don't have time today to get into that depth on one.  But just for kicks, go to the link below. Watch. Listen.  NO, really, LISTEN....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifjVRdzapx4

 I'm going to hope here, that you are a person who is capable of being moved by music. Not just the lyric message, but the sound, the POWER IN THE SOUND.  Can you find some Indescribable Wow of something true in a guitar solo, a keyboard rift, a rhythm beat?  Check out the guitar solo towards the end of Boston Rag.

How can a sound,  a simple or complex set of vibrations, translate in our brains to impressions of memories, emotions, feelings we can relate to as very deeply personal and yet as universally experienced as any part of the human condition.



more latter

Cleaning out the work shop

Today I was watching Don lower a green plastic drain pipe into a trailer with  a John Deere tractor. The pipe was maybe thirty two inches in diameter by twelve feet long. One end was sawed off at about a forty five degree angle. The other, the factory bell end, is the female end of a joint.They are just like the joints on a stalk of bamboo. Suddenly, I'm standing there watching Don load the world's largest cutting of Lucky Bamboo into a trailer.  I guess these days a fellow might need a really big piece of lucky bamboo.

Standing at an old work bench later. I"m cleaning off a lot of small but vastly handy tools, bits, drivers, small pressure and vacuum gauges, parital rolls of teflon plumbing tape, probably a gazillion screws, bolts and sundry other fasteners, many small bits of wire, and, and, and. There was about thirty or forty years worth of  accumulated small odds, ends, time savers and sometimes essential little things that Uncle Bill had on the back of his work bench. He died back last November.  We still do some work on boats and stuff out of there, but we also figure on having to move out of the rented space to make room for the new owners - like any time now. So....Sorting through all these small, dusty objects of utility, I can't help but hear Bill saying " you're going to want to have that right where you can get ahold of it when you need it."