The weather yesterday was craptacular, it started weepy and ended up humid.  Great start, great finish.  Its amazing how much the upcoming weather means to at the end of the week.  At the beginning I could care less, good or bad I am still looking down the upcoming work week with quiet resignation.

Around Thursday the weather radar starts to come online and by Friday it takes on a much more significant importance.

“Check weather.com and see what the weather is going to be like tomorrow.” Karin asked in a casually last night.

I happily fired up FireFox and silently hoped the news would continue to look good.  I don’t mind crappy weather, but I find myself still in Spring fever mode.

As I read off the predicted weather we both begin to think about what we want to do around the yard the next day.  Our yard is for lack of better words, a blank canvas, a stock carbon copy of so many other homes.

The backyard is barren of any trees, the front has the typical builder evergreens that no one in their right mind would never plant intentionally. Our two improvements are flower boxes and a fence.  I know what you are thinking — “Wheee!”

We feel the same way.  It doesn’t help of course that neither Karin and I are huge garden people.  I would like to be, but so far it just hasn’t panned out.  Our motivation at this point is almost embarrassment over the lack of change from when we moved in.

The general talk and plan we decided on was to get some flowers for the planters and plants for the side of the house.  I recently acquired a spade and am looking forward to laying out a curving spline with the hose to create some sort of bed on the side of the house.

Sounds like a great plan, somewhere in there we were also trying to plan a dinner party at a great German restaurant called the Bavarian Lodge in Lisle, IL — Karin was going to try and work in an early movie with her friend, my neighbor and I were going to talk seriously about fence staining, and on top of all that Maverick wanted to play catch with the football.

I thankfully prioritized correctly and went to play catch, but after about ten minutes Mav had had enough.  I however was just starting to enjoy the warm sun and cool breeze.  Then I had an idea.

A memory really of a kite that Grandma Betty bought for Maverick last year gathering dust in our office closet.  The wind was perfect and with an open space walking distance away, I knew what would be next on our agenda.

Bringing down the kite I was happily surprised to see that it was of decent quality.  Nylon, stitched and sporting a twenty dollar price tag.  A dragon kit, with a long tail.  Sweet!  In no time we had it in the air and soaring well over our heads.

Despite Maverick’s concerns I decided to let the line out to really get it some altitude.  It flew like a champ — Rock solid to be exact.  No threat of crash and burn here.  I so wanted to lie down and stare up into the azure sky and watch it fly but the fiery eye in the sky was exactly where the kite was flying and it was brutally strong.

It’s been probably 17 years since I really have flown a kite like that.  Sure I’ve helped Maverick with crappy inexpensive kites here and there but they have stayed well under 20-30 feet so I don’t really consider them to be real kite flying attempts.  I had forgotten how peaceful flying a kit can be.  I will have to do it again soon, preferably next time later in the day when the Sun won’t thwart my relaxation attempts.

Almost nothing is more American than spending the day at the ball park, eating red hots and watching a game of baseball.  One of the reading incentive programs at Maverick’s school had as it’s reward a free ticket to a Kane County Cougars game.

As an added bonus, the child would be part of a pre-game parade on the field,  get to meet the players and receive a free t-shirt.  Now I am not  big sports fan, I watch it when I find myself in a bar or talk about it when I am playing poker, but as a general rule — I don’t shed any tears if a team wins or loses.

But the thought of getting to take my son to his first game — that is an entirely different thing.  Maybe it’s because I am getting older,  I find myself more cognoscente of how far time goes by and aware of the realization that before I know it he will be grown.  You have to treasure those “firsts” when you get them, because they never come back.

With that said, Sunday was a crisp, clear day.  The sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.  I would later come to wish there were with our seats firmly planted behind home plate (great seats), the sun quickly became a sweltering eye in the sky.

With a shirt that would fit him in say, three years we made our way down for the parade on the field.  Since this was my first time to this park, we both admired the attached park area and pay to play or ride/slide games.

The line of people for the parade was huge, it had to be over 300 people long.  As we ambled through and around the outer track, Maverick didn’t want to wave to the people, the shy bug had bitten him but that was to be expected.

Immediately following, he informed me that he was hungry. One jumbo dog, a drink, a five foot long twizzler and a snow cone later, he was satisfied.  You would never know that this bone thin kid is my son!

After about 6 innings he started to get antsy, the game was not holding his attention so we decided to go and take a walk around.  The Cougar’s were losing badly so a change of scenery was cool with me.

Down to the activity area we went, and spent the remainder of our time down in the shade.  We left before the end of the game and got out before the mass exodus, it was a great day and a lot of fun, and one of those memories I’ll always have.

I warn you, the video in the link below is brutal, some people are not meant for video, I think, no I am fairly sure I am one of those people.

Weak Video Blog Attempt

Buried treasure has enthralled the human spirit since the beginning of time.  As a species we like to get something for nothing, we like to find things that are hidden, and we get excited by the very thought of finding something secret, something special.  Its hardwired into us at some molecular level.

History is full of examples, adventure seekers, some with lofty ideas, others with avarice infused spirits.  Treasure seekers, one and all.  Maybe it was god they were after — maybe it was land.  Either way, resistance was futile.

And so it was for me this last Sunday.  Keeping a six and a half year old boy entertained can be harder than you think when you eliminate television, video games and the computer. Eventually you know that at some point you will hear those words you dread…

“I’m bored Dad.  There is nothing to do.”

Ugg.  That’s right — Ugg.  Next to the often chanted “Are we there yet?” the boredom line is second on the list of patience building phrases our little bundles of joy utter that drive us crazy.

Well today I was ahead of the curve — I was ready.  I patiently waited for the statement to come, patience.. patience.  Now, you have to understand, as Father’s we are in a great many respects, nothing more than big kids (just ask our wives).  As such we like sit back and savor the sweet glow of delight that happens when we truly surprise another family member.

“Dad… I’m bored.  There is nothing to do.” Maverick said.  The time had come.

“Bored you say huh?  Hmmm… Well, its a nice day out, grab your shoes we are going on a hunt for Buried Treasure!” I say with giddy delight.

Its at this point during the flurry of excitement that I let my son know we are going to try our hands at Geo-caching.  Geo-caching is basically a big game of hide and seek.  Players take a container of some sort and hide it in random location.

To the rest of the world — they are no wiser.  To the geocacher with the caches longitude and latitude location, it offers a way to live out a Father and Son’s Buried Treasure Adventure.  When a cache is found, the log book is signed, a treasure is taken out and replaced by another.  Pretty cool concept to be honest.

So off we went, with what I thought was my elite entry level Garmin Nuvi automobile GPS.  You could feel the excitement in the air as we  reached our first destination.  With GPS held in front we navigated to our destination and… could not find the cache.

After consulting with my engineer friend Paul, I quickly learned that the automobile GPS devices are not really the best choice for geocaching.  Crap, there goes that budding activity.  But like so many other times, Paul has a unit that will fit the bill that he said I can borrow.

Until then, Maverick and I will be thinking of buried treasure and the adventures to come as Father & Son.

Walking through the world of Disney on my recent family vacation, you cannot help to be impressed by the level of efficiency, cleanliness, and quality of everything from costumes, to construction.

The Magic Kingdom was a magic experience for my six and a half year old son. The ecstatic energy generated from the sights and sounds could very easily have powered a small city. As you can imagine the post-Disney detox he experienced after a week of getting to decide what to see next was amusing to say the least (he says sarcastically).

Heading down to Florida I honestly found myself looking more forward to the Kennedy Space center and Sea World. Disney was just another theme park. Whee. Add to it my underlying annoyance generated by Disney fanatics I had encountered in the past, and I approached it with more than a little trepidation.

As I mentioned early, the parks are top notch. You pay out the nose to be there, but you get what you pay for. Never have I found this to be more true than with Disney.

And what I found myself realizing was that it was magical. Not because it was Disney, or because it had x, y or z. But rather because of the joy it brought my son and his cousin Zach. It was pure, it was untainted by society, by life. It reminded me of what it was like to be a kid with no cares in the world.

I realized that I would always look at Disney as nothing more than an amusement park, but for Maverick it was magical. Oh if only to be able to look at the world one more time through innocent eyes.

Lest I wax on philosophically for any longer, I wanted to talk a bit about this photo I snapped of at the Manatee Rescue area at Sea World. Walking along the top of the area looking into the water I was amazed at the sheer size of the manatees. Reading about them, and seeing them in person is really something completely different.

Walking down to the underwater viewing area where I took this photo what impressed me most was how serene and slow moving they are. Their movements seem oddly etherial, they seem to move without any effort at all.

I conclude this post with a picture of my son, being a goofball and having the time of his life.

How old were you when Santa ceased to exist? When the reality of his existence went up like smoke in a chimney into the cold winter air.

I want to say that I was eight or nine years old at the time. I can’t recall exactly how it happened, or even where but I it more than likely happened in grade school.

Grade school is just the first of many world expansions that we find thrust upon us whether we like it or not. Holiday figures such as Santa and the Easter Bunny hardly stood any chance of survival.

My son is six and a half now. Kindergarten has been a real learning experience for him. Karin and I have delighted in seeing him grow into a little boy.

But how many years does he have left before Santa stops being real? One? Two? I can only hope for at least that, if we are lucky.

The important thing is that we have kept the “Christ” in Christmas. Santa has never taken the spotlight in our house, and my plan when the myth of Santa Claus fades is to teach Maverick about the original of Santa Claus.

Frost covered my lawn this morning, it looked as if the slightest touch would cause the grass to shatter.  And for some reason that frost stayed with me all day.

My subconscious gave me whispers of it to keep my detached interest, but not enough to cause me to come to any major revelations, or anything so grandeur in nature.

That would come later, around seven this very evening. Frost had been changed by my subconscious to Robert Frost, the poet. And surprisingly enough to “The Road Not Taken” that you see below.

I guess it is a factor of age, wisdom some might call it that I find myself recalling decisions that I have made, paths I have taken, an paths that are no longer available to me.

What would me life be like if I have made certain decisions? I shudder to think of what it would not have been had I made certain others. Take my wife, I met her by chance at college, homecoming to be exact, on a night that I had no intention in the world of going out.

If it wasn’t for a visiting friend who was back for homecoming and insisted on going out, I would have never met my wife, fallen in love and had my son Maverick.

So much, so much that would never have existed if I had not gone to that bar that night. Its staggering honestly when I stop to think about it.

Frost’s poem is amazing in so many ways, and such a great metaphor for our own decisions.
“And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;”

The unknown, the undergrowth is always there tempering our decisions and acting as a constant reminder that no matter how much we think about a decision, the path we walk will ultimately have the potential for a disaster waiting around the bend that we could never forseen.

Two paths, one less traveled. One path that ultimately turned out to be the right one in the end. His message is clear to me, or to my interpretation at least — easier is not always better.

I agree completed. I went to college wanting to go to dental school. I had average grades, but could have done it if I had really applied myself. I took an easier path. I wanted to have fun, I didn’t think of the future, I thought of the now.

Ultimately I traded four years of fun for the very real possibility that I will work forty years in a corporate environment, chances are working for someone else. I took the easier path to the keg, instead of the less traveled path to the library. Lesson learned.

We all have had times where we have taken one road or the other, the key I think is not losing sight of the other road. Everyone needs a map to help guide us on our way, they come in many shapes, sizes and forms.

This morning it was frost on the grass and Robert Frost, who knows what tomorrow will bring.

The Road Not Taken
by Robert FrostTwo roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I have gone almost 38 years without watching Soccer. Growing up in the Midwest there were three sports — Football (Bears), Baseball (Cubs/Sox), and Hockey (Blackhawks).

Every now and then we might see a commercial for a soccer team called the Sting, but it always ignored and or forgotten immediately. Some of my friends were really into sports statistics, memorizing obscure stats and watching all the games.

A few of us, myself included, had a detached interest in sports. We would watch a game now and then if someone else had it on, but there were other things that captured our attention far more that sports.

Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, Atari 2600, Nintendo, science fiction and comics were more our speed. It helped our social group that the sports guys liked AD&D and video games so our group remained the same.

Fast forward to current day. Having just gone through my son’s first season of Tee-Ball, I attended his first soccer game today.

I really didn’t know what to expect. Soccer practice had been a test of patience for the coach involved surrounded by the barely controlled chaos of the Maverick soccer team.

If soccer was anything like Tee-Ball, kids would be either all running towards the ball (all positions, literally!). Or not paying attention — I mean they are six, what can really be expected?

Add to this the fact that my son is a really nice non-aggressive kid. Soccer is new to him and during practice he did a lot of standing around and not really going for the ball.

So all week I talked to him from time to time with the intention of getting a few things to stick in his head…

Never stop running — Soccer never stops unless the referee or coach says so. If you are standing around, you are wrong.

Go Get the Ball - Run to where the ball is and kick it towards the goal. Kick and run hard, you are faster than the other kids, run for the ball.

I kept it low key, just reminding him so he didn’t forget. And I had an advantage over every other parent. My son’s team name is the Mavericks. My son’s name is Maverick. So instead of being some psycho dad yelling encouragement to his son/daughter and generally annoying everyone — I was a good dad yelling encouragements for the team.

A lot of those encouragements were of course directed towards my son, a lot were to the team as a whole too. It turned out to be the greatest game I have ever seen.

Why? Well it was the action really. Its as close to non-stop that a game can possible be. Second they switch lines every three minutes. More play time for each kid. And last, but not least…

My son kicked ass!! All those little reminders — remembered. His natural running ability — utilized. Going for the ball — like a shark after chum.

All in all he had not one but two breakaway goal shots. The first went just a tad too wide and missed, but the second went in and with a defender on him!

I had threatened earlier in the game to go European and rip my shirt off and run around the field if he scored, but I decided in the end that subjecting those poor children and parents to such a sight was just too sadistic and kept my shirt on.

My excitement over his performance today was in fact not because of personal pride, I am proud of him even if he totally fails. The excitement I felt was from seeing my son feel pride in himself. Kids need that from time to time. They also need the lessons that failure can teach, but success is a good teach too.

Well we are fresh back from dropping Maverick off at kindergarten. The ladies (Karin & Betty) are off shopping to give me some quiet time before Karin puts my ass to work cleaning the house in preparation for her party tonight (I love my days off).

This morning started with one excited boy, he was in a good mood and not at all hesitant or scared like I feared he might be. At times he can be pretty shy, so I had hoped today would go well and it did thankfully.

We ate some of Betty’s banana bread and drank some coffee that Karin has added Tastefully Simple Vanilla Bean chiller mix to which was totally kick ass tasting. At 8:25 AM we headed out for pictures and to join the “Mom Parade” as Karin calls, heading down to the school.

I really think talking up how cool school is helped Maverick, he clearly was not afraid or hesitant, excitement bubbled behind his eyes. As we came closer to the school the ladies started to feel more emotional. I was waiting for the waterworks from Karin, I really thought she would be bawling like a baby, but alas and alack — they never came. Good for you Karin!

Grandma Betty on the other had, did not fare so well. There were tears, but they were well hidden. My attempts to capture them with the camera were met with disdain, and generally failed. All in all, it was a pretty cool experience. It really made me think back to when I was in kindergarten.

Its amazing the things I still remember — the door outside, my friend Jim, my mom taking our photo, the hooks outside the room, the orange day glow chairs in the room. Looking over their curriculum for the year its wild how much different, how much more educational the kindergarten program is today compared to when I was in kindergarten some 32, almost 33 years ago.

This Friday is my son Maverick’s first day of kindergarten. I can hardly believe that he is six! It seems like yesterday that I was holding this little bundle of crying boy child in my arms and wondering what his life would be like. Wondering how I would be as a Father.

And now its six years later. We have had bumps, falls, bruises, laughter, crying, joy. We have changed disgusting diapers, smelled things no human should have to smell, and been more excited about potty training than any basketball/football or hockey championship.

We have watched his personality develop and taken pride in his good natured kindness to his friends, family and pets. I have cheered as he has embraced Star Wars, and shaken my head at his insistence on tucking in his shirt, no matter what type.

And now he is headed to kindergarten. Its the start of his school career, and in a way, the end of his innocence. There will be things I can’t shield him from, people who will take advantage of his good nature — slowly, slowly but surely, his innocence will start to be lost.

Its an odd thing to consider really. I love seeing him grow up, and hope that his school experience is more enjoyable than mine ever was. In retrospect I am so glad that we decided to wait until he was six to start kindergarten. He is so much more ready emotionally for school.

I used to dread going to school, and now I find myself dreading this Friday. I know in my head that time doesn’t stop for anyone, but in a selfish sort of way I kind of wish it could. I love him. He is the best thing that ever happened to us, and while I will smile and be excited for him, inside I will, and I know Karin will be sorry to see our baby go to school.

Wicked wicked weather here. Lots of rain, thunder and lightning. Not that I mind, but its a bit nerve jarring for Maverick and the cats, so I decided to put on something to lighten the mood — Shaggy!

How can you not listen to “Mr. Boombastic” and not be put in a good mood? I really don’t think its possible. But that’s Reggae for you. I’d love to go to Jamaica and experience the real clubs, the clubs away from the bleach scrubbed resorts.

For now though, I’ll just have to suffice with a visit in my imagination as these notes, this rhythm and beat put a smile on my face and make me forget about the weather outside.

Mr. Boombastic

What you want is some boombastic romantic fantastic lover
Shaggy
Mr. Lover lover, Mr. Lover lover, girl, Mr. Lover lover
She call me Mr. Boombastic say me fantastic, touch me in me back
she say I’m Mr. Ro…mantic
She call me Mr. Boombastic say me fantastic, touch me in me back she say
I’m ro… Smooth just like silk
Soft and coddle hug me up like a quit
I’m a lyrical lover no take me for no filth
With my sexual physique Jah know me well built
Oh me oh my well well can’t you tell
I’m just like a turtle crawling out of my shell
Gal you captivate my body put me under a spell
With your cus cus perfume I love your sweet smell
You are the only young girl that can ring my bell
And I can take rejection so you tell me go to hell

I’m Mr. Boombastic say me fantastic touch me in my back she says I’m Mr
Ro…mantic
I’m Mr. Boombastic say me fantastic touch me in my back she says boom
boom
boom
I’m Mr. Boombastic say me fantastic touch me in my back she says I’m Mr
Ro…mantic
I’m Mr. Boombastic say me fantastic touch me in my back she says boom
boom
boom

Gee wheeze baby please
Let me take you to an island of the sweet cool breeze
You don’t fell like drive baby hand me the keys
And I’ll take you to a place to set your mind at ease
Don’t you tickle my foot bottom ha ha baby please
Don’t you play with my nose I might ha chum sneeze
Well you a the bun and me a the cheese
And if me a the rice well you a the peas

[CHORUS]

Give me your loving gal your loving well good
I want your loving gal give it like you should
Give me your loving gal your loving well good
I want your loving gal you remember the woo
Would like to kiss and carress
Rub down every strand of hair on my chest
I’m Boombastic rated as the best
The best you should get nothing more nothing less
Give me your digits jot down your address
I’ll bet you confess when you put me to the test
That I’m

[CHORUS]

Gal your admiration if a tick me from the start
With your physical attraction gal you know to feel the spark
A man of few word naw go tell you no sweet talk
Naw go laba laba and a chat pure phart
I’ll get straight to the point like a arrow or a dart
Come lay down in my jacuzzi and get some bubble bath
Only sound you will here is the beating of my heart
And we will mmm mmm (kiss) and have some sweet pillow talk
I’m

[CHORUS]