I'm waiting to get out of here, basically. The Thanksgiving traditions are calling me, competing: "OVEREAT!", "TAKE A NAP!". Annie and I are flying to Grand Rapids on turkey day, but the kids are staying back in SLC with their Grandma. I'm starting to regret not getting them to MI with us. But they'll have fun. We will too.
I'm wondering, however, what air travel will be like on Thursday. Hopefully the weather cooperates, for one. But holidays generally mean Family Travel, and I'm much more fond of Business Travel. Business Travel days usually include a few obnoxious bluetooth wearing loud-talkers, but mostly quiet laptop tapping and USA Today "reading" (looking at the colorful graphs), along with fairly efficient movement through the airport. Now, I have a family and I enjoy travelling with them, but I don't necessarily like travelling with other families on Family Travel days. No offense to you, other families - I've heard you have a fantastic game night - but the chaos of many, many children and inexperienced airport security victims frazzles my nerves and tests my patience. Hopefully, I'll be too tired to notice since we'll be leaving the house at about 4:30 am.
What I won't be watching this Thursday is the Lions game. I know, I read the Free Press and it is not blacked out. Mercifully, I will still be on the plane until about the 3rd quarter, and by the time I make it to the parents' house it'll be all over but the Turducken eating. Maybe it's because I've been in central Illinois on most Thanksgivings in my life, but I'm not that excited about the whole Lions game tradition this year. Sure, in the past I'd find the TV to catch a bit of Barry Sanders or Herman Moore or... uh... that other Lions player who scored so many touchgoals. Or maybe it's because my Michigan Wolverines are done before Thanksgiving for the first time in my life and the football buzz is gone. Wait, Grand Valley is still undefeated and playing on Saturday - that may be just the ticket for me. Or maybe it's an event of an entirely different sort that will make the weekend memorable. But now I'm just rambling. Either way, I'm happy to be heading home to Michigan.
Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving and don't skimp on the mashed potatoes.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
The Kids
Annie and I have had a longer than normal stretch of days with the kids. Based on a somewhat informal custody arrangement, the kids are normally with their paternal grandmother every other weekend, and most Friday nights in between. The past several weeks, grandma has been away or busy, and had actually taken the kids more often the weeks prior due to my travel schedule, so we were basically catching up.
It shouldn't be a big deal, because we're the parents and this is our house and this is where the kids live. But wow, it feels exhausting lately. Two other factors: one, the weather turned, and it is no longer normal for the kids to be outside with friends in our complex all afternoon - so that means indoors, and needing structure and attention (and snacks); and two, Annie was out of town Mon-Fri last week. So I got the Mr. Mom treatment pretty good. My nerves were frayed a bit last weekend, and I snapped at Preston Sunday night - by Tuesday, I flipped out on Zoey, too. Not surprisingly, the kids were better behaved the rest of the week.
So yesterday came as a relief. I got to watch Michigan WIN (yes WIN!), relaxing in my room while the kids cleaned rooms and Annie caught up on laundry. I joined in the organizational fray once the Wolverines were wrapping it up, putting up a new shelf in Preston's room. For a sort of fun family day, and as an early birthday present for Pres, we planned a lunch at his choice of restaurant, swimming and diving at the rec center pool, trip to Dairy Queen, and we'd let the kids "make" dinner at home later that night. Training Table was the restaurant of choice. For the non-Utahans, it's a sit down burger joint, where you order from a telephone at the table. It reminds me of Russ' as a kid, or Mr. Burger in terms of food. So we had big sloppy burgers and some great cheese fries.
The pool we go to has a diving board and high dive, so we had fun challenging each other to jump, twist, and dive. I burned some of those fries off swimming laps and chasing the kids around the shallow play pool. A few minutes in the hot tub and sauna completed the therapy, and it was off to DQ for treats.
Dinner was stir fry, with the kids acting as wait staff and serving us plates and drinks. Pretty funny. They did a good job. We were then treated to a "concert" - the kids trying their best to sing or lip sync High School Musical songs - or worse, this "Naked Brothers Band" that Preston likes - and faking the keyboard and drums. An entertaining half hour show, and we captured it on video. Miraculously, the kids were in their beds by 7:30 and Annie and I finally got some peace and quiet. But the busy day and pool exertion had bested me, and I was dozing on the couch myself by 8:30.
Today, everyone was up early. I woke up to the sound of Preston running the bath, and seemingly making as much noise as possible. Zoey followed by entering our room to tell us that Preston was splashing water all over the bathroom. Half of Zoey's life is spent asking to have what Preston has, or do what Preston's doing, or telling on Preston if he's doing something naughty or which she wishes she could be doing - which are generally the same things.
I'm hoping to catch a little NFL and hit the gym today, and this afternoon we're off to Annie's Mom's for dinner and celebrating Preston's birthday with the fam.
This is the end of a full couple of weeks, filled with last minute dinners, multi-leg trips from work to daycare to gym to Z's dance class to picking up our truck from the shop, frequent tears (Preston tripped me on the stairs!) and protests (No I didn't!), one episode of puking, homework and reading help, play-wrestling that starts with giggles and always, always, always ends with Zoey's tears and Preston's protests (I didn't do anything!).
But I always remember that Annie's been doing this on her own for years, and I compare my responsibilities to those of my last few years as a bachelor in Michigan, and I realize this is right where I want to be. It's family life and it's challenging and fulfilling and we learn something new every day. So that's a snapshot of life as a Stepdad in my house.
Did I mention Michigan actually won?!
It shouldn't be a big deal, because we're the parents and this is our house and this is where the kids live. But wow, it feels exhausting lately. Two other factors: one, the weather turned, and it is no longer normal for the kids to be outside with friends in our complex all afternoon - so that means indoors, and needing structure and attention (and snacks); and two, Annie was out of town Mon-Fri last week. So I got the Mr. Mom treatment pretty good. My nerves were frayed a bit last weekend, and I snapped at Preston Sunday night - by Tuesday, I flipped out on Zoey, too. Not surprisingly, the kids were better behaved the rest of the week.
So yesterday came as a relief. I got to watch Michigan WIN (yes WIN!), relaxing in my room while the kids cleaned rooms and Annie caught up on laundry. I joined in the organizational fray once the Wolverines were wrapping it up, putting up a new shelf in Preston's room. For a sort of fun family day, and as an early birthday present for Pres, we planned a lunch at his choice of restaurant, swimming and diving at the rec center pool, trip to Dairy Queen, and we'd let the kids "make" dinner at home later that night. Training Table was the restaurant of choice. For the non-Utahans, it's a sit down burger joint, where you order from a telephone at the table. It reminds me of Russ' as a kid, or Mr. Burger in terms of food. So we had big sloppy burgers and some great cheese fries.
The pool we go to has a diving board and high dive, so we had fun challenging each other to jump, twist, and dive. I burned some of those fries off swimming laps and chasing the kids around the shallow play pool. A few minutes in the hot tub and sauna completed the therapy, and it was off to DQ for treats.
Dinner was stir fry, with the kids acting as wait staff and serving us plates and drinks. Pretty funny. They did a good job. We were then treated to a "concert" - the kids trying their best to sing or lip sync High School Musical songs - or worse, this "Naked Brothers Band" that Preston likes - and faking the keyboard and drums. An entertaining half hour show, and we captured it on video. Miraculously, the kids were in their beds by 7:30 and Annie and I finally got some peace and quiet. But the busy day and pool exertion had bested me, and I was dozing on the couch myself by 8:30.
Today, everyone was up early. I woke up to the sound of Preston running the bath, and seemingly making as much noise as possible. Zoey followed by entering our room to tell us that Preston was splashing water all over the bathroom. Half of Zoey's life is spent asking to have what Preston has, or do what Preston's doing, or telling on Preston if he's doing something naughty or which she wishes she could be doing - which are generally the same things.
I'm hoping to catch a little NFL and hit the gym today, and this afternoon we're off to Annie's Mom's for dinner and celebrating Preston's birthday with the fam.
This is the end of a full couple of weeks, filled with last minute dinners, multi-leg trips from work to daycare to gym to Z's dance class to picking up our truck from the shop, frequent tears (Preston tripped me on the stairs!) and protests (No I didn't!), one episode of puking, homework and reading help, play-wrestling that starts with giggles and always, always, always ends with Zoey's tears and Preston's protests (I didn't do anything!).
But I always remember that Annie's been doing this on her own for years, and I compare my responsibilities to those of my last few years as a bachelor in Michigan, and I realize this is right where I want to be. It's family life and it's challenging and fulfilling and we learn something new every day. So that's a snapshot of life as a Stepdad in my house.
Did I mention Michigan actually won?!
Friday, November 7, 2008
A segway [sic] to class discrimination
Whilst travelling for work last month, I viewed a story on CNN about a man whose condo complex was going to deny him the use of his Segway! (If you didn't know, I love dudes riding Segways, especially cops.) Fortunately for all of us, they came to their senses. Initially, the condo management claimed the rolling wonder of physics "endangered lives", but they "failed to prove their case". Apparently, their attempts to throw people in front of the old dude's ride caused nothing but tread burns and husky apologies. Stanley Blumenthal: Jubilant!
In other news, I had several funny moments on a Continental flight from Newark to Chicago a few weeks ago (air travel story...big surprise). Most of you know that many airlines are charging $15 for any checked bag now. And most of the airlines that are charging $15 for a checked bag call it the "first checked bag charge", or simply "checked bag charge". We get it - we're being charged to give you the suitcase which, by law, cannot be taken on the plane with us. Fine.
But not Continental. Continental Airlines not only takes your $15, but they cause you to examine your life and all its mistakes and confusion. The official name for the charge?
"Excess Baggage Fee"
I am not making this up. This fee is not for your 2nd, 3rd, or eleventeenth bag. For your first bag. Your one and only suitcase, maybe. But you should pay for that one suitcase, as it is clearly and in all contrast to proper travel decorum, excessive. And you should be reminded of that fact in print.
"How's that new passenger, Continental? Your relationship growing?"
"Yeah, Delta, I guess so. He's pretty great - sits where he's assigned, always finds an efficient space for his carryon in the overhead compartment, keeps his iPod volume at a respectful level. But he's got some...baggage."
If you peruse Continental's website, the "excess baggage" term simply applied to heavy/oversize bags in the past, and the fine was much more for those indiscretions. But the gadget in their system that applies fees and prints your receipt for you wasn't worth changing, I guess, so your check-in screen and receipt are there to remind you of all the burdens and toiletries you're lugging along in this crazy, mixed up world.
As if this wasn't enough, I then had to endure an actual case of class discrimination by Continental's award winning cabin staff, North America's best. Maybe I was more sensitive to the situation than normal. I was, after all, engrossed in Sinclair's The Jungle, empathetic to Jurgis's unending struggle against the corporate machine and all its political and social injustice. It came down to the one simple amenity that even airlines haven't chopped: The Lavatory. I had patiently waited through some turbulence, and finally the seat belt sign was off. I looked back to the tail of the airplane (I was in row 7, just 5 rows back from the small First Class section) to see a small line gathered near the lavatories - both occupied - as well as the clattering beverage carts being prepared for service. Earlier at the airport, I had downed an afternoon coffee as well as a bottle of water, but was in a hurry-up mode once I reached the gate, and boarded without making a pit stop.
Boldly, I stepped through the curtain separating Coach from the First Class section. And really - do airlines need to patronize us by calling our section "Coach"? Like we're duped into thinking our rigid, leg-roomless, disease-carrying fabric-wrapped seats are some sort of hired transport in the olden days? Anyway, the forward lavatory is clearly empty, and I'm clearly going to use it.
The forward attendant, a foot shorter than I, literally steps in front of me and says, "Sir, would you mind using the rear lavatories?"
"Yes, I would. It's busy and the carts are going to block me anyway."
"No, I see that the carts are still being prepared. You'll have time to get back to your seat."
I really wanted to come up with a smart, sure, even aggressive statement to get by her, but all I mustered was a roll of the eyes and a quick turn. At this point, I noticed my surroundings - a grand total of EIGHT people in this section, all occupied in the Wall Street Journal or sleeping, and one lavatory, vacant. My churning brain did some quick 737 math, and realized there were about 140 people in Coach for the two lavatories there. 8:1 vs. 70:1. This operation would've taken me no more than a minute, and not one of the people would've even noticed!
I shuffled my way down to the rear and, of course, had to step into a vacant seat (whose occupant was in line for the lavatory) to let the beverage cart by. GRRRRRR! And more of coursely, upon my return, had to ask the beverage cart wranglers to push it up a few rows so I could get into my seat. As I was standing there, I shot that forward attendant's eyes the nastiest glance I could generate, which unfortunately appeared to her as nothing but a calming field of blue ice. (nothing I can do about that, right ladies?)
All the fees, fares, taxes, and leg cramps in the world can be explained and even understood by this traveller. But lavatory restrictions based on your seat assignment when all logic and circumstance show a better solution? Sheer madness.
I'd like to apologize for the overuse of links in the first paragraph, especially for a silly story about a Segway, a vehicle which I have never commandeered, despite my distant fascination.
In other news, I had several funny moments on a Continental flight from Newark to Chicago a few weeks ago (air travel story...big surprise). Most of you know that many airlines are charging $15 for any checked bag now. And most of the airlines that are charging $15 for a checked bag call it the "first checked bag charge", or simply "checked bag charge". We get it - we're being charged to give you the suitcase which, by law, cannot be taken on the plane with us. Fine.
But not Continental. Continental Airlines not only takes your $15, but they cause you to examine your life and all its mistakes and confusion. The official name for the charge?
"Excess Baggage Fee"
I am not making this up. This fee is not for your 2nd, 3rd, or eleventeenth bag. For your first bag. Your one and only suitcase, maybe. But you should pay for that one suitcase, as it is clearly and in all contrast to proper travel decorum, excessive. And you should be reminded of that fact in print.
"How's that new passenger, Continental? Your relationship growing?"
"Yeah, Delta, I guess so. He's pretty great - sits where he's assigned, always finds an efficient space for his carryon in the overhead compartment, keeps his iPod volume at a respectful level. But he's got some...baggage."
If you peruse Continental's website, the "excess baggage" term simply applied to heavy/oversize bags in the past, and the fine was much more for those indiscretions. But the gadget in their system that applies fees and prints your receipt for you wasn't worth changing, I guess, so your check-in screen and receipt are there to remind you of all the burdens and toiletries you're lugging along in this crazy, mixed up world.
As if this wasn't enough, I then had to endure an actual case of class discrimination by Continental's award winning cabin staff, North America's best. Maybe I was more sensitive to the situation than normal. I was, after all, engrossed in Sinclair's The Jungle, empathetic to Jurgis's unending struggle against the corporate machine and all its political and social injustice. It came down to the one simple amenity that even airlines haven't chopped: The Lavatory. I had patiently waited through some turbulence, and finally the seat belt sign was off. I looked back to the tail of the airplane (I was in row 7, just 5 rows back from the small First Class section) to see a small line gathered near the lavatories - both occupied - as well as the clattering beverage carts being prepared for service. Earlier at the airport, I had downed an afternoon coffee as well as a bottle of water, but was in a hurry-up mode once I reached the gate, and boarded without making a pit stop.
Boldly, I stepped through the curtain separating Coach from the First Class section. And really - do airlines need to patronize us by calling our section "Coach"? Like we're duped into thinking our rigid, leg-roomless, disease-carrying fabric-wrapped seats are some sort of hired transport in the olden days? Anyway, the forward lavatory is clearly empty, and I'm clearly going to use it.
The forward attendant, a foot shorter than I, literally steps in front of me and says, "Sir, would you mind using the rear lavatories?"
"Yes, I would. It's busy and the carts are going to block me anyway."
"No, I see that the carts are still being prepared. You'll have time to get back to your seat."
I really wanted to come up with a smart, sure, even aggressive statement to get by her, but all I mustered was a roll of the eyes and a quick turn. At this point, I noticed my surroundings - a grand total of EIGHT people in this section, all occupied in the Wall Street Journal or sleeping, and one lavatory, vacant. My churning brain did some quick 737 math, and realized there were about 140 people in Coach for the two lavatories there. 8:1 vs. 70:1. This operation would've taken me no more than a minute, and not one of the people would've even noticed!
I shuffled my way down to the rear and, of course, had to step into a vacant seat (whose occupant was in line for the lavatory) to let the beverage cart by. GRRRRRR! And more of coursely, upon my return, had to ask the beverage cart wranglers to push it up a few rows so I could get into my seat. As I was standing there, I shot that forward attendant's eyes the nastiest glance I could generate, which unfortunately appeared to her as nothing but a calming field of blue ice. (nothing I can do about that, right ladies?)
All the fees, fares, taxes, and leg cramps in the world can be explained and even understood by this traveller. But lavatory restrictions based on your seat assignment when all logic and circumstance show a better solution? Sheer madness.
I'd like to apologize for the overuse of links in the first paragraph, especially for a silly story about a Segway, a vehicle which I have never commandeered, despite my distant fascination.
Some recent pics
I've been a bad updater of late, though my little notebook of potential blog subjects is loaded. Just one of those times where life, work, kids, and home are enough to fill my time and then some.
Check out the pics, including me on a Wheaties box and lots of cute kids. Click on the little word bubble to see the captions.
Check out the pics, including me on a Wheaties box and lots of cute kids. Click on the little word bubble to see the captions.
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