Life's Perceptual Fraction

We have a management program at work based on conceptual models grouped into a series of themes. One of the models is called the Perceptual Fraction which posits the way an item is viewed depends on its relationship to other items. For example:

• Fork over $1,000 for a car stereo? No way. But include a $1,000 audio package as part of a new car purchase? Sure, OK. I'll finance it! 
• Pay eight bucks for a bottle of beer at the local grocery or liquor store? Hell no! But go to dinner and add a local microbrew high gravity stout to your tab? Hey, it's cool supporting the local brewers!
• Year 1 raise is 8 percent. Year 2 is only 4 percent. Uh oh. But what if average year 2 raise for everyone was 2 percent?

From a management perspective, the model says a manager should (1) understand if a change will even be noticed and (2) put the change in the right context when it will be noticed.

I recently notched a half-century and am not ashamed to say so. I am, however, reluctant to say I fully comprehend what it means. Am I half-way there, two-thirds of the way along, or living on borrowed time?

I know I react differently to things at 50 than I did at 18 ... or 25 ... or 40. Maybe my denominator has just grown larger so that my 'perceptual fraction' isn't as affected relatively as it once was. Impulsive reactions years ago seem to be replaced by more intentional, deliberate actions today. Well, some of the impulsiveness remains - just not as much.

Generally speaking, I'm not a big birthday guy. Every year, I just view the day as one day more than yesterday. But I'd be lying if I denied that this one has made me think a bit more than I did at 30 or 40.

Over the last few years, I've blogged about all sorts of stuff. Music, faith, travel, parenting, racing, beer, idiocy of others, home improvement - just to name a few subjects. I imbibe in all of the above and am average at best in most of them.

Several years ago, Tommy Womack wrote and recorded Going Nowhere (and was included by co-writer Jason Ringenberg on The Scorchers' Clear Impetuous Morning). The refrain is:

I'm going nowhere, just going nowhere
I can't see tomorrow, but I'm leaving here today
I'm going nowhere, but at least I know the way

Those few lines still make me laugh - but they also resonate with me perhaps more now than at any point of my life. I'm confused about many things, and I stumble about working on all of them these days. Yet I figure I'm still trying to keep life in a forward gear vs. reverse.

I've honestly tried to be a good pop. Perfect? Shooooot, there's no such thing as a perfect parent. But so far, so good in all material respects - without trying to be too prideful about it or overly optimistic about where things go from here. Regarding my son, I've blogged about such things as:

• Creative uses for duct tape
• Getting a cell phone
• Cutting the grass
• Getting his driver's license

Yet, its really hard to think how quickly time flew from this...

... to this 15 years later later ...


And now the boy ... err, young man will hit 20 this year. Twenty!

My daughter is killing it academically and has convinced me to shut my pie hole when she sets her mind about committing to something.

• Middle school: "You haven't taken tap or ballet, and we're not sure you'll make the dance team squad." "I'll practice." Boom, she makes it.
• Middle school: "You haven't gone to any sort of cheer or tumbling camp. You sure you want to try out for cheerleading?" "I'll watch YouTube." Boom, she makes it.
• Band: "You want to march with with the high schoolers as an eighth grader? It's awfully hot at band camp." "I can do it." Boom: done.
• High school: "You want to march in drum line?" "Yep." "Done, I have full confidence you can handle it."

A few other perspectives of late - things that ever entered my mind a quarter-century ago:

• My knees are shot, I'm overweight, and my doc now lectures me about my blood pressure. On the up side, I still have a full head of hair with only a smattering a gray around my temples. Take that, you younger, graying, balding dudes I see jogging regularly.
• Newspapers - I concede that like many I've bailed on the paper version - yet I regularly reference old ones through Google News Archive and my local library. Yet how will the news of today be archived for future researchers to study - from an availability perspective and without retrospective editing.
• A nervous I do and I will suddenly became half my life with a ring on my finger. Dang.
• Twitter has become a dark place. I'm grateful for the accounts I follow and that follow me. I've avoided being directly engaged with the ugliness and hostility that seems to permeate it but I see many others hit with it. It'll eventually strangle Twitter.
• I grew up listening to my parents' LPs. Some I liked - many I didn't. But I  remember the albums, and a lot of their preferences influenced the music I now enjoy. They also knew (and didn't like) my preferences of KISS, Boston, Rush, Frampton, Aerosmith, AC/DC, etc. As an adult and parent now, technology has altered the paradigm for my kids and me. I listen to most of my music on computer speakers, in the car, or through ear buds - away from others. My kids do the same. Result? Neither side knows much about what the other is listening to. Upside: They'll create their own interests. Downside: They'll have no memories of what their old man listened to in their childhood.
• I realize how naive - maybe even just plain dumb - I was as a teen. Over time, I became open-minded - then skeptical - then cynical. The last few years, I "peaked" at cynical and reverted back to a blend of skepticism and open-mindedness. I just hope I don't become a naive, vulnerable dope again in my later years, and I earnestly pray I never become a bitter curmudgeon.

All I know is that sometimes you have to be wary
 of a miracle too good to be true
All I know is that sometimes the truth is contrary
to everything in life you thought you knew
All I know is that sometimes you have to be wary
'cause sometimes the target is you

TMC

High School Orientation: Say What??

I took my daughter to high school orientation Thursday night. Multiple teachers and principals gave about an hour overview of class options, extracurricular activities, etc. Normal stuff. Things you'd expect to hear as a parent ... for the most part.

But I was also intrigued by some of the nuggets some of them offered. My daughter thought I was scribbling furiously because of new information relevant to the next four years of her education. Instead, I was attempting shorthand to help remember many that's what she said quips.

The sad reality? My kid's school has been rated as one of the top schools in the state. If its blue-ribbon quality, I weep for the kids, parents and teachers everywhere else.

PTO person: We have a new program for the class of 2016. Basically, its designed so we can give them love and gifts over their four years. We plan to raise money to give them praise and things and a big gift their senior year.

• TMC: Thanks. Just what we need. More expectations of entitlements for the next generation.

Teacher: Students are required to earn 2 foreign language credits. We'll be offering French and Spanish as our foreign language classes next year. And of course, our classes are honors and AP level.

• TMC: So even the burnouts from the smoke pit can get at least one AP credit? Cool!

Teacher: If your student takes 3 years of JROTC, it'll cover the PE credits plus the half-credit for personal finance.

• TMC: It still blows my mind that our schools provide a personal finance course. But with runaway consumer debt, folks who believe their mortgage balance and fluctuations in home values are directly related, and using bankruptcy as a cash management technique, I guess its clear many parents have no clue as to how to teach financial responsibility at home. Having said that, how in the world does participation in JROTC equate to learning personal finance concepts.

And now a few free-standing quips - presented without comment.

Algebra teacher: (Regarding the need for a graphing calculator) Math isn't as easy as it used to be.

Clueless teacher: Hi, I'm Ms. , and I'm the teacher of [pause, look back at the PowerPoint screen, turn back] Marketing and Communications.

Confused teacher: I don't feel like I'm getting any older..even though I guess I am.

Fine arts teacher: No sound bites here. But for her info slide in PowerPoint, she chose to use a maroon-colored font on a blue background.

Fashion/apparel track teacher: I don't see a single nekkid person in this room. So I know the fashion industry isn't going away.

Technology challenged teacher: We'll put this informational PowerPoint file on the school's website in a few days after we reduce the file size and strip some information out of it.

TMC

28 Days

Before you even think it, no. This entry will not be a confessional about rehab. I'm no Erik Ainge or Charlie Sheen.

28 more days. Unbelievable. April 28, 1995 - my first young 'un was born. Sixteen years ago ... less 28 days. One of the milestone birthdays of life. I'm toomuchcountry, and I've nicknamed him toomuchtexting.

7 lbs, 11 oz. 21 inches long...16 years ago less 28 days.

The last 16 years are a bit of a blur as I look back on them. And I have no friggin clue what lays before me.

What I do know is that he will turn 16 in 28 days. Suddenly, I've aged to within four weeks of some questions that I've never really asked before:

• What kind of birthday soiree do you have for a sixteen year-old boy? I'm guessing its a big deal to turn 16 as a girl (cue Molly Ringwald/John Hughes movie). But for a son? I have zero memories of turning 16 myself. A big dinner with a bunch of friend? Just a normal dinner with family? Gifts? Or just a shoulder chuck with 'have a great day pal - and clean up your room when you get home'? 28 days...
  
• Is it that big a deal to get your driver's license on the day? Apparently, the answer is a resounding YES. I got my license during my 17th year (post 16th birthday); however, my mother and I were not in line on the day. But he has his mind set that is the one thing he really wants to get. 28 days...
  
• Am I prepared for how my insurance rates are going to skyrocket when he does get his license? My answer contrasts the previous bullet: a resounding NO. 28 days...
  
• When will he start digging girls - at least enough to make it known to us? I'm not stupid...at least not that stupid. He is 'friends' with several PYTs, but he hasn't dated or really even asked about it. For the most part, he is still just a geeky, teen boy. 28 days...
  
• How in the world will the two of us who brought him into this world avoid taking each other out of it over the idea of a car? My wife is scared to death to ride with him. He does fine - its just excessive nervousness on her part. On the other hand, I've got 40-50 hours of passenger time with him behind the wheel, and I think he has done remarkably well. Yet, she is the one who wants to give him a car for his birthday to drive solo whereas I'm the one saying "now wait just a damn minute". 28 days...
  
• Assuming we agree to get him a car (meaning she'll say "we're getting one whether you like it or not"), what shall we get? My vote: a high-mileage, reasonably maintained, 4-door, inexpensive car. Comfortably less than $5,000. Statistics say as a male teen he'll wad the thing up before he moves out from under my roof. I'm viewing any purchase as analogous to buying a blister pack, commodity item near a Wal-Mart register. Use it up, throw it away and start over should the actuaries' prediction prevail. Her suggestion: The precious boy needs a low-mileage, don't-leak-oil-on-my-driveway, current model so he can carefully drive it the next 6 or 8 years. Oh, and it needs to be a bit stylish too. And its gotta be a Toyota, Honda or Nissan because Consumer Reports says those are the best types of used cars. Huh? The kid's whole live is pretty much based on a 10-mile radius from his mattress. If he breaks down somewhere, he could walk home before a tow truck arrives or hypothermia sets in. He isn't a middle-aged, father-of-two who is under employed, struggling with the mortgage and high gas prices and needs a deeply discounted sedan to roundtrip a 30-mile commute from the 'burbs five days a week for the next decade. But I digress. 28 days...
• Have I come to grips that in a bit over 2 years from now he'll pretty much be gone? College, work, somewhere (hopefully not the pokey). Kinda. Even though I don't remember turning 16 during my sophomore year, I do remember turning 18 my senior year. I knew I just had to graduate that spring, work the summer and then move away to college. I love my folks, but I was ready to get gone. So if that's the mindset he's got too, I'm good with it. As a matter of fact, I'll probably struggle more if he does NOT leave. So help me if I have to change his nickname to 'toomuchleeching'. 28 days...
  

When he was born, I had no clue what to do. He peed, crapped, ate, puked, slept and drooled. From around age three until nine, he thought I had hung the moon. And I adored all the time we spent together. Years 10 to 15 were a bit weird - we didn't talk as much even though we spent time together. Now as he approaches 16, I'm trying to learn how to treat him more as a young man while still trying making him realize I'll bust him down to buck-private at the drop of a hat if circumstances dictate.

28 days.

TMC

Poetry by my daughter

My daughter wrote this for her language arts class. I think I may go now. And weep a bit of joy. And hug my little girl. And smile.

I Am From Home

I am from dinner parties, filled with fun and friends.
From Mexican foods, steaming with mouthwatering goodness,
From a loving, caring family who makes sure to protect me.
I am from this and much more.

I am from a brick wall family.
I am the mortar between the bricks,
Holding everything together.
I keep us sturdy.

I am from a 2-story red brick house with a deck.
From “Fair is a bunch of rides and cotton candy”,
From a Blue’s Clues based childhood.
I am from my quiet and comfy bedroom.

I am from a cross inscribed with “Bless This Cat”.
From a cat-shaped candle on top of birthday cakes,
From taunting my brother by ‘hearing’ ghosts.
I am from a smart, logical family.

I am from a family with a brother who I admire.
One who is smart and nice to everyone.
A brother who is talented in many ways.
Someone I can trust.

TMC

Sea kayaking entry 6: Headed for home

Sixth and last in a series...

To paddle backwards...

• First entry
• Second entry
• Third entry
• Fourth entry
• Fifth entry
  

With a 10:30 AM ferry departure, the crew was finally able to awaken on their own terms. However, with the rising sun and quickly rising temperatures, most were up shortly after dawn. The adults took shifts walking about a half-mile to a nice coffee shop for a hot cup of premium coffee and toasted bagel. Ahhhhh.

Mid-morning, everyone hoisted their gear on their shoulders and into their hands and trekked back to the ferry dock. We were not as rushed on the return trip as we were going to Ocracoke.

Upon reaching mainland again two hours later, the base camp vans arrived to greet us ... and assign us chores. All kayaks, boat gear, personal gear, and crew gear we'd left behind a day earlier had to be loaded and secured. Most folks pitched in to quickly load the gear. A few decided they wanted to sit in the shade or in the vans until we were ready to go - or so they thought. A few "tough love" words of "GET OUT HERE AND WORK LIKE THE REST OF US!" was about all it took to get their priorities back in order. In short order, we were on our way for a return trip to base camp. Most caught up on some much-needed and much-deserved rest.

Upon arriving at base camp, all gear had to be unloaded, cleaned, and hung to dry so it could be re-deployed to other crews the next week.. The camp staff estimated 2 hours would be needed to complete the cleaning. Instead, it only took 45 minutes with the 3 troops working cooperatively and efficiently. All troops were congratulated by the staff for the collective hard work.

The troops had a final grilled chicken dinner together. The other two troops showed great scout spirit by deferring their showers until our troop could eat, clean up and hit the road.

After a final group photo and some t-shirt purchases, we were on our way. The captains of the troop armada were headed westward away from the coast. We arrived around midnight at the National Guard armory in Lexington, NC for a night's rest.

As all awoke Saturday morning to head for Charlotte, NC, I caught sight of an STP cap in a display case along the wall. Sure enough, it was autographed by my NASCAR hero - The King Richard Petty. I wished someone had been there to convince them the hat would be much safer in my custody, but that wasn't the case. So all that went with me was a photo.

We boarded the vans for breakfast and a 90 minute ride to Carowinds theme park near Charlotte, NC. While we thought the heat was challenging on the coast, at least we had wind. Inside the concrete jungle of Carowinds, there was little relief from the heat except on roller coasters and constant drinking of water.

The newest ride for the season was The Intimidator - a roller coaster whose theme was based on the late NASCAR driver Dale Earnhardt, Sr. One of our dads donned the Intimidator cap and my sunglasses to create our own version of...

URRRRRNNNN-HARRRRRRRTTTT

After a full, draining day at Carowinds, the crew had dinner in Asheville, NC. A phone call was placed to the Clyde Police Department officer whose name we were given a week earlier. Fortunately, the right connections were made and we were back in Clyde City Hall again for the night. It was almost like coming home. Almost.

We got an early start on Sunday morning and stopped for breakfast. My son led a crew prayer to give thanks for the meal, give thanks for a fun and safe week, and ask for a safe journey the remainder of the trip home.

Shortly after noon, the captains returned home. Captains - of boats with christened names such as:

• SS Minnow
• The Titanic
• Flying Dutchman
• Red October
• Cornelia Marie
  
• The Wizard
• El Diablo and the Magic Man
• the destroyer (for our scout who could destroy a buffet or fast food menu)
• the cruiser (for our girl-ogling scout for all the coolness he *tried* to exude)
• the carrier (for our smallest scout who hauled 3 bags of gear plus his tent while wearing blue jeans the half-mile from the Ocracoke Ferry to Teeter's Campground and back)

Sure enough, when I got home there it was. The six pack promised me via a text from "the carrier's" dad our first day on the water. A sixer of Italian Peroni - chilled. Plus, the dad gave our family a gift card to our favorite Mexican restaurant.


While the gifts were genuinely appreciated, I did feel a bit sheepish about accepting gifts for a trip on which I had so much fun personally.

Thus endeth the series. Finis.

TMC

Sea kayaking entry 3: On to fish camp

3rd in a series...

To catch up those who may just now be starting here:

• First entry
• Second entry

The crew planned to rise at 5 AM on Tuesday and hit the water by 6 AM. However, a big thunderstorm served as our alarm clock in the early morning hours delaying our departure by about an hour. The tents took a pounding from the wind, sand, and rain - but they withstood all their challengers.

The crew quickly learned about multi-tasking: haul personal gear a couple of hundred yards back to the sound side, load it in the kayaks, dress in life jacket and spray skirt, and re-assemble paddles - all while trying to eat breakfast on the go with the occasional free hand.

We spent much of the day hopping from one duck blind to another up the sound to ensure everyone was doing OK and keeping up.

During one rest stop, I stepped out of my kayak in shallow water to drag it to marshy grasses. Almost immediately after exiting the boat, I sunk in silty muck up to my mid-calf. The muck decided it wanted my right sandal more than I did. The muck immediately snatched it off my foot and carried it below the murky waters. The sea bottom re-settled itself, and the shoe was never heard from again.

The armada paddled almost 10 more miles to land at Davis Ferry Fish Camp - including a row through a "shortcut". As it turns out, the waters in the shortcut were so shallow many scouts and adults had to tow their kayaks during a long stretch of it. The trip was a bit more scenic because of the twists and bends and the tall grasses, but it was strenuous to navigate.

Once again, we secured our kayaks on the sound side and hauled personal and crew gear several hundred yards to the beach side for another night of camping. The heat was searing, and the winds and sand were as bad or worse than the first day's stop. But... this stop had an unexpected and welcome addition - a bath house with showers! Everyone took at least one shower, some took a couple, and one of our scouts set the crew record with SIX SHOWERS in a 10 hour span.

The camp also had potable water. Just because it was potable, however, doesn't mean it was tasty. No one could quite put their finger on the taste, but almost all agreed it had a certain non-desirable "twang" taste to it. Because we needed fresh water to replenish our sources for the next day, everyone made the best of it. Many tried lemonade or fruit punch powder packets to help mask the taste.

Shelter to avoid the sun was at a premium. A few scouts and dads took turns hanging out on the porch of the shower house with two other troops kayaking near us. In addition, the screened-in porches of a couple of fish cabins were made available to us. This gave us relief not only from the direct heat but also from the incessant attack of green-headed biting flies.

The crew elected to prepare and serve dinner on the sound side under a small pavilion cover. Not only did it provide shelter, but much of the high winds and blowing sand were avoided as well. Our meatballs and pasta marinara dinner was superb.

A fellow dad and I made cups of coffee by experimenting with a couple of different, portable, brewing systems. Despite the heat, the hot cup of caffeinated joe tasted tremendous after a long 2 days without it.

One of the kids used beef jerky in a bag to catch some small fish. He and a couple of his buds then used the jerky to catch an eel about 10" long. While that slimy thing looked pretty nasty, it was pretty cool they were able to catch it. And here I thought you could only catch hypertension on beef jerky.

The boy and his old man - its crazy how fast he's growing up.

We watched the sun set on the western horizon of the sound side.

As the sun set, many of us once again powdered down in our tents to shed as much sand as possible. For me after two days of this ritual of using a ton of the stuff inside my tent, I began to feel like a white doughnut trapped in a cellophane bag!

TMC

Sea kayaking entry 2: First day on the water

2nd in a series...

The hospitality shown by the church we stayed in Saturday night was raised another notch Sunday morning. Instead of eating a heat-lamp biscuit at yet another fast food restaurant, several scouts and leaders from the church's troop prepared a pancake breakfast for our crew – regular and blueberry pancakes, sausage, fresh fruit, milk, juice, and hot coffee. What a great send off for our crew as headed for Pamlico!

For reasons still unclear to me, we were unable to do our pre-arranged self-guided tour at USMC Camp LeJeune. A visitor desk woman pleasantly suggested we should have arranged our visit with public affairs. I told her we'd been directed to a coordinator for youth activities, got parking passes from her, secured mess hall privileges for 2 meals, and was told we could take a self-guided tour of the base.

Her response? "Umm, well we haven't offered maps for the self-guided tour since September 11, 2001." Yes - 9/11 - nine years have passed and apparently someone hasn't bothered to update what visitors can/can't see while on base. Oh well, I guess their hands have been full taking care of things in parts of the world I have no desire to visit much less defend.

Instead, we moved on to a moving, walking tour of USMC memorials near LeJeune. The stop included memorials for those lost in Vietnam, September 11 terrorist attacks, and the 1983 USMC barracks bombing in Beirut, Lebanon.

"The other wall"

And the poem for it.

A beam from the fallen World Trade Center in New York City

Names of the dead etched in glass at the Vietnam War Memorial.

One of our older scouts was clearly bored. He thought he was too cool for anything, slurped from his 2 liter of Mountain Dew, and ass-dragged in and out of the vans wherever we'd been the last 48 hours. Rather than appreciate the memorials or try to develop any level of comprehension for the sacrifices they represented, he instead bitched about the heat and his general boredom. He quipped as we re-loaded the vans: "So where do we have to go next to dilly-dally around?"

You ever had one of those conscience-crisis moments where you really want to backhand someone but know you'll have hell to pay if you do? So I took a slightly higher road, glared at him and retorted "Well I'm sorry you are so bored friend. Perhaps you should complain a bit louder so all these Marines can awake from their graves and fight a little bit harder for your freedom to utter such crap." He looked at me with his half-closed eyes and yet a fully-opened jaw. I think he got my point.

Our base parking passes allowed us to visit other nearby USMC bases. We stopped at Camp Geiger Marine Corps Air Station to see if they would allow us to look around. An MP in a visitor office told us we could drive around the base provided we didn't get out of our vans. Once we got back in the vans we realized we weren't sure which security gate to pass through (there were several). I put the van in park and walked towards a guard shack while wearing my scout uniform. A Marine exited his post and walked towards me at a quicker pace than I was approaching him. He had his M16 machine gun across his chest. My encounter with Booger in Clyde NC suddenly didn't seem so bad.

But he didn't shoot me, I lived to see another day, and we passed through security just fine. We got to see several Ospreys parked on the tarmac and stopped at the airstrip fire station where the attending Marines gave the scouts an overview of their equipment and procedures for fighting fires involving burning aircraft.

A couple of hours later, we arrived at Pamlico Seabase. We were shown our tents where we'd camp our first night and were assigned our boating gear – kayak, paddle, splash skirt, and dry bags. Within an hour, we were at water’s edge to learn kayaking basics. We paddled for approximately 90 minutes rowing together, rolling over, exiting the kayaks, and re-entering them.

Later in the evening, our troop gathered additional supplies: breakfast and lunch items for the days at sea, group meal supplies for evening dinners, cook gear, tents, stakes, and fresh water containers. Only the most nutritious ... Tasty offerings were available for breakfast and lunch - Pop-Tarts, Cheez-Its, Honey Buns, Slim Jims, etc.

After breakfast Monday morning, the scouts loaded the kayaks onto trailers and boarded vans for a 2 hour trip to put-in at Harkers Island at the Camp Lookout National Seashore.

Here is Tony - a member of the Pamlico staff, van-driving / kayak-hauling / head-banging madman, and dreadlock-grower extraordinaire. That's 10 years worth of dread growing folks.

Right before we launched, everyone took a chance for a final bathroom stop in the cleanest restrooms we'd find for the next five days. As we were making our way back to our gear, one scout - my son's best friend - wanted to tell me something. He stopped me to say his dad texted him telling me thanks for taking him on the trip. He said his dad also mentioned he had a six-pack of beer as a gift for me when we returned. The first comment humbled me. The second part provided a tangible goal for me to get through the week successfully.

The crew launched in a ferry slip at Harkers Island. We rowed about one mile to a shallow, muck-filled marsh for a lunch break of summer sausage, Ritz crackers, hunks of cheddar cheese, bags of Cheez-Its, and Nutter Butter cookies. Junk food never tasted so good it seemed.

We rowed another couple of miles to our first camp stop for the day - Pavilion. The boats were secured with rope and various knots to dock pilings on the Pamlico Sound side of the island, and everyone hauled their individual gear to the other side of the island facing the Atlantic Ocean.

The beach front winds were remarkable, and sand strafed everyone's arms, legs, back, and face.

Once camp was set, most scouts played in the surf for about 4 hours until it was time to prepare dinner. The winds and rip tide currents were remarkable. The kids hit the ocean and within a matter of about 10 minutes were carried 300-400 yards northward.

My son and another couple of scouts prepared a hot dinner of chicken and rice in two cook pots over small propane burners with metal shields to minimize the risk of the wind blowing out the flame of the burners. Other than unintentionally but unavoidable sand seasoning, the hot meal was fantastic.

The scouts were then introduced to a game called Crazy Stick. Each player raised an oar over their head, looked straight up, turned around quickly 20 times, dropped the oar in the sand, and then attempted to jump over it. One of our boys jumped; however, he jumped sideways and corkscrewed headfirst into the beach filling his hair with sand. Everyone roared.

Many others took their turn - some falling before 20 turns, some missing the oar, and some completing it successfully. In the back of my mind I was thinking: This clearly didn't originate as a scout game. It had all the makings of a freshman fraternity rush event played with prodigious amounts of beer.

As the sun set, everyone headed for their tents. I took Tony's advice and patted down with generous amounts of baby powder - something I hadn't used I'm guessing since my mother used it on me when my age was stated in months rather than years. The powder had the great quality of shedding sand from the day. It worked!

TMC

Sea kayaking entry 1: the trip to NC

First in a series...

Today starts a series of blog entries recapping a sea kayaking scout trip I organized. Thirteen boy scouts (including my son) and five adults left for the coast of North Carolina for a 10-day trip on Friday, July 16. We were headed for Pamlico Seabase.

Leaving middle Tennessee, we had good driving weather…until. Monstrous thunderstorms greeted us as we hit the North Carolina state line. Rain was pounding as we approached the National Guard armory in Clyde, NC where we were scheduled to spend the night. The parking lot was full of cars. All doors were locked, however, and no one seemed to be in the armory. I left voice messages on every number I could reach but still no luck. We were in a tough spot - in the rain - 10:30 at night - 2 vans loaded with teenagers - without a planned alternate place to stay.

We drove to a local gas station to ask for suggestions. Employees were as nice as they could be (I love small towns). They suggested we try the local fire hall a few doors down and offered us a hot cup of coffee as we pondered our situation.

The hall was an unmanned volunteer department so a Plan C evolved. We found Clyde Municipal Building – home to city hall and the police department - another block or so down from the fire hall. Once again - and as expected I guess at 11:00 PM on a Friday night - no one was in the building.

My co-pilot in the van spotted the end of a cigarette on a porch behind city hall. The rain had begun to taper off a good bit, and he jogged over to talk to them. Turns out Chuck and Margaret were enjoying the evening with a cig and late night beer. They knew the police captain personally, called him on his cell phone, and then told stories about doing maintenance and repair work on the police department's vehicles.

Within a few minutes, Captain Mike arrived. After telling him our dilemma, he phoned the Clyde Chief of Police and received permission for us to stay in city hall.

Captain Mike had his K9 dog with him who answers to the name of “Booger”. He brought the dog into the room with the scouts where he wagged his tail, panted, and enjoyed everyone scratching behind his ears and patting his back.

The Captain then took him into the hall to show us how well trained he was. Booger is trained to respond to single word commands spoken in Dutch. With just a single word, Booger immediately was before me barking fiercely, snarling, and seemingly on the edge of ripping me to shreds. I tried to remain as calm and collected as a Ken doll. Inwardly, however, I was quivering and on the verge of forming a puddle around my shoes. I can't exactly remember, but its possible I may have even uttered "mommy!" under my breath.

One additional command and the intimidation was over. Immediately, Booger came to me, wagged his tail, pranced full of life, and wanted me to pet him once again. Captain Mike and Booger left us, and the crew settled in for the night. We had a long drive facing us Saturday.

The next morning I couldn't help but be amused by the mayor's name.

Luchenbach. Clyde. They're probably both about the same, right? Considering the thunderstorms we'd endured Friday night in the rolling Appalachian mountains of eastern North Carolina and looking at the name plate of the town's chief executive, Hill Country Rain by Jerry Jeff just seemed right.


Saturday brought a lot more road miles including a stop for a barbeque lunch at The Pit in Raleigh. The place was recommended to me a day or two before we left. I found the restaurant on Twitter, told them our crew size, and asked if they were ready. The manager soon tweeted back with "Yeah bring it on."

So we did. The service was great, and everyone enjoyed their meal – ribs, pulled pork, Carolina Q, turkey, etc. Our server told us he too was a scout when he was a teenager.

Our initial dinner plan for Saturday evening was to eat in the mess hall at Camp LeJeune US Marine Corps base. However, we arrived in Jacksonville, NC too late, too tired, and too full from lunch to go to the base. So we settled in at a local church, played a bit of frisbee, rested a bit in the A/C, unpacked gear, etc. A couple of hours, the kids who were then hungry again demolished a buffet of food at Golden Corral and earned hundreds of tickets on video games at Chuck E. Cheese.

Shortly after entering the GC, it was apparent the place was a popular Saturday night dining experience for many Marines. Suddenly, I noticed one wearing a Schaefer beer shirt! For those who read Bench Racing from the Volunteer State, my racing-themed blog, you know I'm a founding member of the Schaefer Racing Hall of Fame. I approached the Marine (mindful of my experience with Booger the night before) and told him I was proud of him - both for his service and for supporting Schaefer.

I clearly caught him off guard. This Marine who is trained to be a fighting machine wasn't quite sure how to react when I complimented him on the shirt. I asked him to sit tight for a moment so I could get my camera. A picture of a US Marine in a Schaefer shirt - it was as good as posted on my Bench Racing blog. By the time I got back though, he and his buds were already gone!

Not to worry. Life is lived in Plan B - we were reminded of that truism just 24 hours earlier. After dinner while the kids were racking up skee-ball tickets at the Mouse House, I made a trip to Wal-Mart for a couple of last minute supplies.

And there I found it. My own Schaefer shirt! God bless the United States Marine Corps. I'm so grateful for the protection and defense they provide. But when it comes to Schaefer swag, it was comforting to know I was in control of my own destiny.

Next: on to Pamlico and our first day on the water.

TMC

Yes, its a double standard

My daughter's middle school dance team took about a month break following the wrap-up of football season. Wednesday was the team's first day to re-group and start practicing again. We were talking about the practice during dinner.

She was at an off-site education session yesterday and went back to the school after classes were done for the day. As is typical, all of the doors were locked from the outside. Her only option was to enter through a gym door where the boys' soccer players were leaving for a practice or a game. She was too embarrassed, however, to walk by all of them so my wife had to walk in with her.

With a bite of food still in his mouth, my son barked at her "What's the big deal? Why didn't you just walk on in the door?" I tried to hide my smirk but was unsuccessful.

She quickly snapped back "I didn't want to walk by all those boys. I was wearing my spandex dance clothes! Would you ... or Daddy (as I still failed to hide my snickering) ... want to just go walking by a bunch of girls and have them look at you?"

He looked at me. I looked at him. And we both said "well, yeah!"

TMC

The Week That Was

October 26 - Tickets purchased for a March 2010 John Prine show. I grimaced as my passed my credit card to the nice woman at the Ryman knowing I was paying for a show about 4-1/2 months early. But hey, its Prine, right?

October 27 - Tickets purchased for Billy Joe Shaver show on December 1 at the famed Exit/In. Truly, a country - yet alt-country - legend. (BJS trivia: Did you know Billy Joe wrote all but one track of Waylon Jennings' famed album Honky Tonk Heroes?) His ticket was not as expensive, not bought as far in advance, and will be in a much louder, more rowdy setting - a tri-fecta! Speaking of tri-fecta, next March I feel I will have hit my own personal songwriter legend tri-fecta - seeing Guy Clark, Billy Joe Shaver, and John Prine perform LIVE all within six months of one another. Dagnab it, why was I asleep at the switch when Townes was alive...

October 29 - First Predators game of the season for me. And they won over the division-leading Chicago Blackhawks! Hoo-ah! The game was made doubly-cool by an evening out with a couple of friends - one of whom goes back to college years, now lives in Switzerland, and only gets to the states every 2 to 3 years. Fun reunion.

October 31 - My daughter carved her first jack o' lantern, and she did a mighty fine job I think.

The next day we had a hard time deciding if one of our cats feared he might be the next to be carved or was volunteering.

My daughter dressed as a pirate. (Though with that red head band, she looks like she could also have been Head Wound Harriet.) My son dressed as a "Caution: Wet Floor" sign. And his friend dressed as Jack the Jacked-Up Janitor. They're beyond the age & I'm beyond caring where I even begin to try to understand their minds and costume choices. I just walked a parentally-safe yet outside the "its not cool you're still following us around" distance behind them sucking down a couple of brews along the way. Ever tried "Trick or Beer" in your neighborhood? It actually works sometimes!

November 1 - First Titans game for me in at probably about 3 years. Got to watch if up from wayyyy up in the upper deck on a sun-splashed Sunday afternoon. They also won just like the Preds a few days earlier - against the Jax Jaguars ending a very ugly 0-6 start to the season! I tailgated with a buddy of mine and his regular crew. Schaefer, PBR, Fat Tire, Mojitos, burgers, wings, and even freshly shucked oysters. Ahhhh....

So now its off Thursday through Sunday to Newark NJ with a side trip or two to New York City. The toughness of Newark and the bright lights/big city of NYC always intimidates this too much country rube. But I enjoy my limited time in the city each time I go. Hopefully, I'll return with some pics, some stories, some tweets, and some bloggable moments.

TMC

Chicago is Our Kind of Town

With apologies to da Chairman, Frank Sinatra...

My daughter & I arrived in Chicago this past Saturday morning and were greeted by a rainbow signifying a promise of good times. Rain was still in the area, but it wasn't enough to deter us from our walk to the hotel and then off in search of Giordano's pizza near Jackson and LaSalle.

Fortunately, the rain faded away & we were back in business as we wiped our mouths from traces of deep-dish style pepperoni and mozzarella. After being puzzled about where to catch the #29 bus, we opted for the Red Line subway and headed to Navy Pier. We rode the giant ferris wheel and Wave Swinger. (Note to self: don't let yourself be talked into riding the swings ever again when the temps are below 50 degrees lest you want to leave more skin on the aluminum seats.)

The view from the ground...

... and the view from above.

After a bus ride back to the hotel, we cleaned up a bit and headed right back out to the Blue Man Group. This show has been around for many years. It took me until a couple of years ago to finally see it in Las Vegas. We saw basically the same show in Chicago I saw in Vegas, but I'd go see it again tomorrow if I could. Its that funny.

Sunday, we opted for an hour of worship at First United Methodist Church - better known around town as The Chicago Temple. Why "temple"? I don't really know. I guess only the Methodists and the Jewish community there know why. The church was founded in 1831, and the current building of the church has quite the inspiring sanctuary view.

After church, we headed to the Sears Tower...err... Willis Tower. Specifically, we were headed to the famous Skydeck on the 103rd Floor and the newly-opened and soon-to-be-famous The Ledge.

I really thought I'd have a bad case of vertigo as I stepped out on the ledge and looked almost 1,400 feet below, but it really wasn't that bad. Maybe it was the cardiac arrest I was experiencing while watching my daughter fearlessly step out and then smile at the camera.

It was then time for the main attraction - at least from my daughter's viewpoint. The American Girl Store. Michigan Avenue. The Magnificent Mile. Unfortunately, this was also one of those "when in Rome, do as the Romans do" moments. I guess that means Roman dads were also committed to scurrying around with their little Roman girls looking at overpriced doll clothing and accessories such as the American Girl Painted Horse and Chariot combo.

The store, however, does have a sense of humor I suppose. For instance, the majority of the American Girl inventory is made in China. Also, the picture below revealed a bit of comedic duality for me. Perhaps the inference is all you'll have left in your pocket when you leave the store is petty cash. Or perhaps the intent is to say with laughter that you must be joking if you think all you'll spend in the store is petty cash.

Following shopping, dining, and dessert, we caught a bus to Millennium Park to see it lit at night. Specifically, we wanted to see Cloud Gate - or as its known by the locals "The Bean". The skyline of Chicago was wonderfully reflected in the bean, but it made it difficult for me to capture a clear picture. So I'll use this one to illustrate.

Monday, we spent the majority of our final day at the Shedd Aquarium. The aquarium was on our itinerary for a couple of reasons. One, they had dolphins, beluga whales, and sharks - 3 things my daughter wanted to see. Two, admission was free as part of the aquarium's community week...or at least that's what was published on their website and tweeted many times in the days leading up to our trip. When we arrived, we were told the free admission only covered some of the basic tanks. To see dolphins, beluga whales, and sharks, I had to pay after all. For a non-profit, eco-conscious, kid-friendly organization, this policy is called creative marketing. In a for-profit venture, it would be called the ol' bait-and-switch.

I forked over the fee, and we had a wonderful time touring the facility. The tank with the dolphins and beluga whales has a spectacular panoramic window view of Lake Michigan. And once we took a break for lunch, we took advantage of the spectacular skyline view for another photo op.

After we had enough of fish, mammals, and reptiles, we headed for the hotel to claim our bags and head for the airport. We then realized we had just enough time to run back to Millennium Park for another look at The Bean in the daytime & were very glad we did.

For all the coolness of the changing colors on 3 sides of the twin towers at the park, the inner side of each tower introduces a bit of a creepy side. The faces of about 1,000 Chicagoans have their faces shown on the towers periodically. To be honest, as creepy as it was I was quite surprised the faces had not been replaced by images of President Obama, his cabinet members, and Jeremiah Wright. But I'm just sayin...

In the end, I made the right decision in taking my girl to the big city. For all the big stuff we did, she was equally puffed up about having the opportunity to ride a plane, train, subway, and city bus - all in the same weekend; try Chicago style deep-dish pizza; stay on the 18th floor of a Hampton Inn; tip a bellman; etc. And for me, watching her enjoy it and then fall asleep quickly at night while smiling makes me think I should try to make this an annual event.

TMC