I'm getting married this summer, so you'd think I would have a whole bunch of stuff to write about. Plans, logistics, worries, anticipation, costs, honeymoon... Thing is, Annie has done 94% of the planning and coordinating and decision making, so my thoughts are: She's doing great! Also, both her and my parents are being super generous with their time, money, and help in this deal that I don't want to step on their toes. Yeah, that's it! My jobs have been to work on the website (haven't touched it in a month or so), get a pastor/minister (none yet), and work on Men's apparel (I don't dress like a grown up so this is much harder for me than she realizes). And I secured the park contract for our site - after she chose the site - and it appears I did not secure the ability to play music through speakers, so I need to work on that too.
But this morning, just now, I did look up information on Cook County marriage licenses and figured out how and when we should get one. Bet she hadn't thought about that, huh! Plus her Dad is giving me tickets to the Tigers-White Sox game in Chicago the Thursday before our date, and I've told a few people about that. Let's see, what else... We're going on a cruise for our honeymoon - leaving from San Juan P.R. - so that's going to be sweet. I did buy a new swimsuit and have been doing some sit-ups so she's not embarrassed to be seen with me...
Yeah that's about it. We have a lot to do. Thankfully she is very good at this planning stuff since she used to do it for a living. And she is organized and thoughtful and good at schedules and stuff. Did I mention how beautiful and sweet she is, too? You're doing great, babe! It'll be worth it I swear!
Next weekend we're going to Chicago to do some on-site planning, hang out with her dad & stepmom & brothers, and my parents are coming down from G.R. to hang out, too! Any reason to party in Chicago is a good reason. Weddings especially. Even the planning part.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Big Tuesday Part II
As I sped south down I-15, the valley was growing ever darker and foggier - I couldn't tell if it was a mixture of dust and gray clouds, or actual rain. You can always see weather systems coming and going in this valley, but it was hard to figure this one out. Turns out the wind was the only real concern. The games prior to mine were still being played in what appeared to be a desert sand tornado. The burly outfielders in the "Men's League" were shielding their eyes and turning their backs to the action, just to survive. I kept looking back into the wind to see if there were any church steeples or renegade snowboards hurtling toward me (the Utah version of the movie Twister), but fortunately I was safe. I thought there was no way we'd even get to our game. But I waited it out, and right around 8:00 PM, the winds calmed down, no rain came, and we took the field.
Even now, my throbbing left shoulder and scabby left knee remind me of how I wish the rains would have come, the winds would have persisted, a snowboard missile would have threatened my well-being.
I'm like a lot of dudes in that I think I'm awesome at sports. All of them. Forget actual experience or skill or ability. I've never before played cricket, but if you put me on a field I imagine I'd be a tremendous wicket-keeper or silly mid-on. Since I ran track in Jr. High & High School, I didn't play baseball beyond little league. But in recent years, I've really come to enjoy recreational softball. Co-ed leagues are relaxed and fun, and normally I feel like a 'good' player simply because I'm a reasonably able athlete who is not afraid of getting struck by the ball. I wear a "MTA Pro" ball glove that I found at a park, probably in 5th or 6th grade. It still fits my hand and hasn't fallen apart yet so I don't worry about a new one. I don myself in cleats and batting gloves, as they make me feel cool. The combination of theater and competition in organized sports leads me to exert more effort than my talent or body is willing to support. In softball reality, I'm a terrible hitter, but a pretty good left-fielder (this week). But more than anything, I play really hard. In co-ed softball, for nothing.
My first at bat on Tuesday, I tapped a grounder down the 3rd base line, and sprinted toward first like my hair was on fire. This is normal for me. Since I can barely hit it out of the infield, my best chance at getting on base is to scare the crap out of the girl/guy at first so she/he drops it. This time it was a she. I either beat the throw or she dropped it, can't quite remember, but I made the boneheaded error of turning in toward the infield after I heard "Safe!", which I immediately realized made me a live base runner. I looked, and the girl had the ball, not quite sure what to do. I knew I couldn't return to 1st so I feigned a jog, stopped, looked to see if she would throw or chase, took two small steps, then broke into a full-on bull rush toward second. I gave the 2nd basewoman a crazy-person glare and slid - hard - coming to rest with my left hip on the bag. Safe! I tried to pop up, but my left shoulder wouldn't cooperate. When I slid, left hand down, my weight dropping back must have torqued my arm back and up. I could immediately tell I had aggravated an injury I got about 3 years ago...playing softball. And sliding always has another consequence for me - leg damage. I just can't do it right. I even wear pants in order to avoid major dirt-filled gouges, but sure enough, I could feel my knee had taken a pretty good beating. A couple batters later I scored, and I played the entire game in left, making a number of solid catches and no errors. This pleased me, but by the time I woke up Wednesday morning, I realized why most professional athletes peak around ages 26-30. I'm 29. I'm nearing the end.
The leg damage has been much worse in the past, and actually reminds me of a funny story. In my first year of co-ed, with my old church in Kentwood, MI, I slid into 2nd in shorts - again after getting caught in a base running predicament - leaving my skin behind from mid-shin to knee. I consulted with my mother, a trained nurse and, well, my mom, who recommended soaking the leg in epsom salts to help it heal faster. At the time I was living in this groovy tri-level that I rented with 3 buddies (Houseman!) which had a tub in the upper bathroom. The tub butted up against a dividing wall about 3' high, the toilet on the other side. The tub was never used, and thus had no curtain or door. Wearing a swimsuit, I soaked and soaked, and sloughed off dead skin and dirt and somehow didn't pass out. Standing at the divider end of the tub, with bandage and washcloth in each hand and my left leg propped on the edge, I began dressing my wound. Predictably, my foot slipped off the edge and with no hands free to brace myself, my forehead stopped my forward momentum on the countertop of the divider. So I'm standing there, soaking wet, leg like raw meat, forehead split and bleeding. I looked at myself in the mirror and found comfort in the fact that I had both bandages and a washcloth in my hands, and now had something to take my mind off my searing leg pain.
Anyway, I'm not really that clumsy or injury prone - except for when I fall going UP stairs (Murray will laugh at that one) - but I probably need to slow down at times.
I was going to write a Big Tuesday Part III, which was going to be about the Pistons game I watched on DVR. But they lost - and now they've won Game 2 which was awesome. So that's all I have to say about that.
Even now, my throbbing left shoulder and scabby left knee remind me of how I wish the rains would have come, the winds would have persisted, a snowboard missile would have threatened my well-being.
I'm like a lot of dudes in that I think I'm awesome at sports. All of them. Forget actual experience or skill or ability. I've never before played cricket, but if you put me on a field I imagine I'd be a tremendous wicket-keeper or silly mid-on. Since I ran track in Jr. High & High School, I didn't play baseball beyond little league. But in recent years, I've really come to enjoy recreational softball. Co-ed leagues are relaxed and fun, and normally I feel like a 'good' player simply because I'm a reasonably able athlete who is not afraid of getting struck by the ball. I wear a "MTA Pro" ball glove that I found at a park, probably in 5th or 6th grade. It still fits my hand and hasn't fallen apart yet so I don't worry about a new one. I don myself in cleats and batting gloves, as they make me feel cool. The combination of theater and competition in organized sports leads me to exert more effort than my talent or body is willing to support. In softball reality, I'm a terrible hitter, but a pretty good left-fielder (this week). But more than anything, I play really hard. In co-ed softball, for nothing.
My first at bat on Tuesday, I tapped a grounder down the 3rd base line, and sprinted toward first like my hair was on fire. This is normal for me. Since I can barely hit it out of the infield, my best chance at getting on base is to scare the crap out of the girl/guy at first so she/he drops it. This time it was a she. I either beat the throw or she dropped it, can't quite remember, but I made the boneheaded error of turning in toward the infield after I heard "Safe!", which I immediately realized made me a live base runner. I looked, and the girl had the ball, not quite sure what to do. I knew I couldn't return to 1st so I feigned a jog, stopped, looked to see if she would throw or chase, took two small steps, then broke into a full-on bull rush toward second. I gave the 2nd basewoman a crazy-person glare and slid - hard - coming to rest with my left hip on the bag. Safe! I tried to pop up, but my left shoulder wouldn't cooperate. When I slid, left hand down, my weight dropping back must have torqued my arm back and up. I could immediately tell I had aggravated an injury I got about 3 years ago...playing softball. And sliding always has another consequence for me - leg damage. I just can't do it right. I even wear pants in order to avoid major dirt-filled gouges, but sure enough, I could feel my knee had taken a pretty good beating. A couple batters later I scored, and I played the entire game in left, making a number of solid catches and no errors. This pleased me, but by the time I woke up Wednesday morning, I realized why most professional athletes peak around ages 26-30. I'm 29. I'm nearing the end.
The leg damage has been much worse in the past, and actually reminds me of a funny story. In my first year of co-ed, with my old church in Kentwood, MI, I slid into 2nd in shorts - again after getting caught in a base running predicament - leaving my skin behind from mid-shin to knee. I consulted with my mother, a trained nurse and, well, my mom, who recommended soaking the leg in epsom salts to help it heal faster. At the time I was living in this groovy tri-level that I rented with 3 buddies (Houseman!) which had a tub in the upper bathroom. The tub butted up against a dividing wall about 3' high, the toilet on the other side. The tub was never used, and thus had no curtain or door. Wearing a swimsuit, I soaked and soaked, and sloughed off dead skin and dirt and somehow didn't pass out. Standing at the divider end of the tub, with bandage and washcloth in each hand and my left leg propped on the edge, I began dressing my wound. Predictably, my foot slipped off the edge and with no hands free to brace myself, my forehead stopped my forward momentum on the countertop of the divider. So I'm standing there, soaking wet, leg like raw meat, forehead split and bleeding. I looked at myself in the mirror and found comfort in the fact that I had both bandages and a washcloth in my hands, and now had something to take my mind off my searing leg pain.
Anyway, I'm not really that clumsy or injury prone - except for when I fall going UP stairs (Murray will laugh at that one) - but I probably need to slow down at times.
I was going to write a Big Tuesday Part III, which was going to be about the Pistons game I watched on DVR. But they lost - and now they've won Game 2 which was awesome. So that's all I have to say about that.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Big Tuesday Part I
It was Tuesday. A big day. A big night, really. After sending off the boss at work, it was soccer game for the kid, softball game for me, Pistons-Celtics game on DVR. New wrinkle for soccer: Coach out for the game, Annie volunteered in. Annie technically in, Steve actually in. Annie brought snacks, and really good ones. Preston's 1st-2nd grade league allows 6 players on the field at a time including the goalie. Normally, 7 or 8 kids show up for each game. Tuesday night, however, was a big night. An eleven kid night. Eleven kids for 6 positions. Eleven kids who want to play the three "forward" positions. For those disinclined to the beautiful game, forwards get to kick it toward the goal more than the rest.
We were there first. Preston. Then Kaitlyn. Cade and Rhett arrived together. "Hi guys, Preston's mom is the coach tonight, she's over there. I'm Steve."
"I wanna play forward! I always play forward!"
William and Colin arrive - that's six! We got a team, baby! Let's start Preston in goal, and then we'll - wait, here come two more girls. You're Julia? I'm Steve. Preston's mom is the coach tonight. And you're Kendall? Are you even on this team? You play forward?
"Can I start at forward?"
So Preston in goal, Kaitlyn and Julia and William up front, Rhett and Cade can start on defense. I know, Kaitlyn. Wait, there's another Kaitlyn? Oh, hey. Preston's mom is coaching tonight. You wanna play - yeah, I'll get you in there later. Hey, where's that really good kid, the one that scores all the goals? Oh - Clayton, there he is, he's their best forward. Sheesh - that's ten kids, we're going to have to sub a lot, keep these parents happy. Who's that red head? Is he on the team, too? His name is Colton - are you serious? I'm going to put him on defense.
"I play forward the whole 4th quarter, and don't take me out."
Cute freckles kid. Let me get this straight: Cade, Colin, Colton, Kaitlyn, Kaitlyn, Kendall, Clayton? Needless to say, Preston, Rhett, William and Julia are starting, with Cade and Kaitlyn.
The rest of you - wait until I call out a name, like "Cloytlin", and then just run in there for someone.
Well, the game went great - Preston was strong in goal and got a good 2 minute stint in the forward rotation. I stopped the game at least 5 times to shift kids around and move 2 of the 5 forwards to defense for one possession. Cloytlin scored like 8 goals and we rolled. First coaching experience, Great Success! Oh, and Annie played her part - the kids loved the oranges and Creamies. If you're from Michigan, "Creamies" might not ring a bell. For a minute I thought they were eating Coffee-mate on a stick or something. Turns out they're just what we midwesterners call fudgesicles or ice cream pops.
On the way to the softball field, a storm was a-brewin...
We were there first. Preston. Then Kaitlyn. Cade and Rhett arrived together. "Hi guys, Preston's mom is the coach tonight, she's over there. I'm Steve."
"I wanna play forward! I always play forward!"
William and Colin arrive - that's six! We got a team, baby! Let's start Preston in goal, and then we'll - wait, here come two more girls. You're Julia? I'm Steve. Preston's mom is the coach tonight. And you're Kendall? Are you even on this team? You play forward?
"Can I start at forward?"
So Preston in goal, Kaitlyn and Julia and William up front, Rhett and Cade can start on defense. I know, Kaitlyn. Wait, there's another Kaitlyn? Oh, hey. Preston's mom is coaching tonight. You wanna play - yeah, I'll get you in there later. Hey, where's that really good kid, the one that scores all the goals? Oh - Clayton, there he is, he's their best forward. Sheesh - that's ten kids, we're going to have to sub a lot, keep these parents happy. Who's that red head? Is he on the team, too? His name is Colton - are you serious? I'm going to put him on defense.
"I play forward the whole 4th quarter, and don't take me out."
Cute freckles kid. Let me get this straight: Cade, Colin, Colton, Kaitlyn, Kaitlyn, Kendall, Clayton? Needless to say, Preston, Rhett, William and Julia are starting, with Cade and Kaitlyn.
The rest of you - wait until I call out a name, like "Cloytlin", and then just run in there for someone.
Well, the game went great - Preston was strong in goal and got a good 2 minute stint in the forward rotation. I stopped the game at least 5 times to shift kids around and move 2 of the 5 forwards to defense for one possession. Cloytlin scored like 8 goals and we rolled. First coaching experience, Great Success! Oh, and Annie played her part - the kids loved the oranges and Creamies. If you're from Michigan, "Creamies" might not ring a bell. For a minute I thought they were eating Coffee-mate on a stick or something. Turns out they're just what we midwesterners call fudgesicles or ice cream pops.
On the way to the softball field, a storm was a-brewin...
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Being all growed up
Life is swarming all around right now. It hasn't stung me directly, but it's constantly shifting shapes and actually seems to be taking little stabs at family and friends in a lot of ways. At the same time, I'm finding lots of opportunities for change and new challenges amid the chaos.
First the fun. Let's see, I joined a softball team with some co-workers. We lost both games I played in, while they won the first game I missed. So I'm obviously having a huge impact. It's a co-ed team, and my friend Kimberly is playing with us since Annie finds softball about as interesting as she finds, well, sport. The first grounder I got at shortstop was hit by a dude, and kid was getting up the line quick. I thought I had a chance so I whizzed one over to first - to Kimberly - but the throw was low and somehow eluded her glove. It did manage to find her tibia, however, and made a thud the left fielder could hear. Kimberly bravely shook it off, but I saw her a couple days later and the bruise was pretty much from foot to knee. Glad she's my fiance's bff, because otherwise I'd probably have to pay her medical bills or something. I followed that up with 2 more fielding errors, while making maybe 2 putouts. In a related story, I played left field in the next game.
Preston is in soccer this summer, and the improvement from last fall is amazing. He's scored two goals already - in the two games I missed - and is quite the goalie as well. Zoey decided to call it a career, since last fall her involvement in soccer was a mix of chasing a boy named Noah and asking out of the game so she could snuggle with Mom on the sideline. At least she knew to walk away while she was at the top of her game.
At work, on the same day I found out my marketing coordinator was not returning from maternity leave, I found out my boss was leaving. She is a super dynamic businesswoman, a great leader, and I learned a lot from her. She's taking a job with a company that sells skincare products - a brand Annie happens to love, too, so she's on the list for free samples already. The question most people have is "do you get her job?", to which I respond "they wouldn't offer it to me, and who needs that kind of pain anyway?" It will leave a gap for a while, but I'm excited to work directly under our President, who has major marketing savvy developed under some big name brands.
Annie has an exciting potential opportunity that would involve us moving across the country if they offer her the job (they will) and if we accept (we'll see). My initial reaction to a change like that was my standard hemming and hawing and general skepticism. But the more we talk about it in realistic terms, the more used to the idea I become. I mean, I did pick up and move across the country once, it should be that much easier if we do it as a family, right? Yikes. Speaking of family, I'll be excited to finally see them in about a month when I head back to G.R. for Jr. P's wedding. I miss my nephews! I heard them on the phone a few days ago, and they sound like they're growing so fast. I think the oldest has a beard now.
As a new (almost) stepdad to school age kids, I have a bond with them that grows and grows, but obviously lacks the depth that must come from your own blood and the experiences of having a newborn. A number of friends and my sister have at least given me a vicarious glimpse of that bond. It saddens me then that I've received news in the past month from no less than 4 friends or family involving struggles with newborns. From miscarriage to genetic disorder to infant trauma and pregnancy risk - it's just a flood of reality checks for one who still imagines having his own children someday. My own family had unique experiences with my autistic sister and some of her complications as a newborn. It's amazing how frequently families face these types of situations. Does anything have a greater risk/reward dichotomy than pending childbirth? The comfort is found in witnessing these families rally around each other, as they face their challenges with love and selflessness. I need reminders at times that life is not only delicate, but precious - something to be enjoyed as much as possible while we are lucky enough to breathe.
Sorry for the dramatic tone! I do funny better than reflective, but it's what's on my mind. Quickly, then, I switch to sports: Go Pistons! Those of us who have followed the NBA for the past 20+ years think Detroit-Boston playoffs and drool. The chowder eaters have an abundance of championships lately between the Pats and Sawx (plus I heard they got a no hitter tonight - from a dude who beat cancer, no less!). Motown has a lot of almosts and inflated expectations lately (not to mention a thug-mayor scandal), but no "'Ships", as 'Sheed would say. If the Pistons and Wings both make their leagues' finals, I may have to fly to Michigan just to sit in a BW's on one of those nights they both play and get my fanhood on. Where have those days gone, boys? Oh well, at least I have a little thing called "DVR". Soccer game? Softball? Neighborhood kid scooter drama? No problem. Just don't text me and spoil the ending, Parents. That's right - my folks are texting like pros, LOL.
First the fun. Let's see, I joined a softball team with some co-workers. We lost both games I played in, while they won the first game I missed. So I'm obviously having a huge impact. It's a co-ed team, and my friend Kimberly is playing with us since Annie finds softball about as interesting as she finds, well, sport. The first grounder I got at shortstop was hit by a dude, and kid was getting up the line quick. I thought I had a chance so I whizzed one over to first - to Kimberly - but the throw was low and somehow eluded her glove. It did manage to find her tibia, however, and made a thud the left fielder could hear. Kimberly bravely shook it off, but I saw her a couple days later and the bruise was pretty much from foot to knee. Glad she's my fiance's bff, because otherwise I'd probably have to pay her medical bills or something. I followed that up with 2 more fielding errors, while making maybe 2 putouts. In a related story, I played left field in the next game.
Preston is in soccer this summer, and the improvement from last fall is amazing. He's scored two goals already - in the two games I missed - and is quite the goalie as well. Zoey decided to call it a career, since last fall her involvement in soccer was a mix of chasing a boy named Noah and asking out of the game so she could snuggle with Mom on the sideline. At least she knew to walk away while she was at the top of her game.
At work, on the same day I found out my marketing coordinator was not returning from maternity leave, I found out my boss was leaving. She is a super dynamic businesswoman, a great leader, and I learned a lot from her. She's taking a job with a company that sells skincare products - a brand Annie happens to love, too, so she's on the list for free samples already. The question most people have is "do you get her job?", to which I respond "they wouldn't offer it to me, and who needs that kind of pain anyway?" It will leave a gap for a while, but I'm excited to work directly under our President, who has major marketing savvy developed under some big name brands.
Annie has an exciting potential opportunity that would involve us moving across the country if they offer her the job (they will) and if we accept (we'll see). My initial reaction to a change like that was my standard hemming and hawing and general skepticism. But the more we talk about it in realistic terms, the more used to the idea I become. I mean, I did pick up and move across the country once, it should be that much easier if we do it as a family, right? Yikes. Speaking of family, I'll be excited to finally see them in about a month when I head back to G.R. for Jr. P's wedding. I miss my nephews! I heard them on the phone a few days ago, and they sound like they're growing so fast. I think the oldest has a beard now.
As a new (almost) stepdad to school age kids, I have a bond with them that grows and grows, but obviously lacks the depth that must come from your own blood and the experiences of having a newborn. A number of friends and my sister have at least given me a vicarious glimpse of that bond. It saddens me then that I've received news in the past month from no less than 4 friends or family involving struggles with newborns. From miscarriage to genetic disorder to infant trauma and pregnancy risk - it's just a flood of reality checks for one who still imagines having his own children someday. My own family had unique experiences with my autistic sister and some of her complications as a newborn. It's amazing how frequently families face these types of situations. Does anything have a greater risk/reward dichotomy than pending childbirth? The comfort is found in witnessing these families rally around each other, as they face their challenges with love and selflessness. I need reminders at times that life is not only delicate, but precious - something to be enjoyed as much as possible while we are lucky enough to breathe.
Sorry for the dramatic tone! I do funny better than reflective, but it's what's on my mind. Quickly, then, I switch to sports: Go Pistons! Those of us who have followed the NBA for the past 20+ years think Detroit-Boston playoffs and drool. The chowder eaters have an abundance of championships lately between the Pats and Sawx (plus I heard they got a no hitter tonight - from a dude who beat cancer, no less!). Motown has a lot of almosts and inflated expectations lately (not to mention a thug-mayor scandal), but no "'Ships", as 'Sheed would say. If the Pistons and Wings both make their leagues' finals, I may have to fly to Michigan just to sit in a BW's on one of those nights they both play and get my fanhood on. Where have those days gone, boys? Oh well, at least I have a little thing called "DVR". Soccer game? Softball? Neighborhood kid scooter drama? No problem. Just don't text me and spoil the ending, Parents. That's right - my folks are texting like pros, LOL.
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