The Schweitzers

Five Things that Lasted Nine Years

1. Richard Dawson's tenure on Family Feud
2. The Seven Years' War, the Nine Years' War, the War of the Grand Alliance, the French & Indian War, and the Anglo-Spanish War
3. King Hoshea's reign in Israel (2 Kings 17:1)
4. Reggie Jackson's affiliation with the Oakland A's
5. Interval between my birth and Wham's rocking of the charts with "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go"

There is one more thing that has lasted nine years, and that is my happy marriage to my lovely wife (as of August 1).  We had a wonderful time last night dipping fruit and various goodies in chocolate fondue while reflecting on the immense and innumerable blessings God has given our family.  It has been beyond anything I could have hoped for or imagined.

Thank you, April, for sticking with this here fella.

Corrupting the Youth

Scene: Jon, Ruby and Alexander in the car on the way to the library. A CD of Ruby-personalized Bible songs plays over the stereo.

["Just like the stars that twinkle in the night,
Ruby, you're precious in God's sight..."]

Ruby: Daddy, who got me this CD?

Jon: Hmm...I'm not sure who bought it for you.  Maybe mommy knows.

Ruby: I don't think they got it at the store, because the store wouldn't know my name.

Jon: That's probably true.

["Just like the moth becomes a butterfly,
Ruby, God changes you inside..."]

Ruby: Daddy, do moths really turn into butterflies, or do caterpillars?

Jon: Uh, no, that's -- that's wrong. You're right. Caterpillars turn into butterflies. Not moths.

Ruby: I didn't think moths turned into butterflies.

Jon: No. That's weird. I don't know why the song says that, but it's wrong.

Alexander: Bllllrrrrrpppppzzzz...

To the Mall!

Early evening in Cary. Wet and dreary.  April is away at a church meeting...what to do?

Why, to the mall, of course!

The nearby mall has a carousel that Ruby loves to ride.  The carousel itself is nothing remarkable; like all other mall carousels, it tries to mimic the vibe of those turn-of-the-century amusements lovingly handcrafted by Danish woodworkers and accompanied by festive calliopes.  Instead, it gives off a chipped-plastic Assembled-in-Mexico vibe that is accentuated by the neon feather dusters affixed to the heads of the horses.

But to a three-year old, what could be better?

The fellow who operates the carousel is a real gem. I'm guessing he's the owner, because he's always there and he takes such obvious pleasure in greeting the children and escorting them to and from their chosen steed.  Ruby handed him her ticket -- a responsibility she always takes very seriously -- then proceeded through the gates to assess the prospects.  She put a lot of thought into her selection and passed by several inferior specimens before settling on a fine chocolate mare. This was her first time on the carousel without daddy hovering inches away, just in case the bugger reared up unexpectedly and tossed her o'er the stern.  I bravely stood on the sidelines with sleeping Alex in tow and performed hand-waving and kiss-blowing duty.

I'm thinking there's a brief window of childhood in which carousels are fun.  About a year ago, riding the carousel was a tight-lipped, white-knuckled affair for Ruby.  Today, she waves and laughs and (to my dismay) taunts the kids behind her to go faster.  In a few more years, she'll probably be asking for a cellphone and swiping the car keys, just like all the other kindergarteners.

After the carousel, it was on to the Jumping Bean -- one of those giant air-filled rubber thingies in which Ruby would jump 'till Kingdom Come were it not for the eight-minute timer.  The Jumping Bean is right next to the carousel, and you can't do the latter without doing the former, although lots of Big Kids skip the latter and go straight for the former.  I was relieved to see that the Jumping Bean was devoid of Big Kids.  We've never had a Big Kid collision, but I always grimace when I see Ruby gleefully frolicking next to the Big Kid practicing his Jake the Snake impression (that is, if Big Kids today know who Jake the Snake is).  So, she bounced and bounced and bounced with an energy that is unique to pre-schoolers and utterly amazing to 30-year-olds at 7 PM on a weeknight.

A woman sat nearby watching her kids in the Jumping Bean.  I could tell we were thinking the same thing: Bedtime will be a cinch tonight.

After the Jumping Bean we made a quick stop in Baby Gap to pick up a pink argyle cardigan for Ruby, as requested by April.  Unlike joint April-Jon ventures into Baby Gap, I zeroed in on my target with laser precision, purchased it, and got out of the place in under two minutes. My only misstep was absentmindedly placing a half-full carton of milk (single-serving size) I'd been carrying for Ruby on an overhead shelf while examining the cardigan. On the drive home Ruby said she was thirsty, and I remembered the milk, no doubt still resting unnoticed on that shelf.  Ah well, I'm sure they'll discover it in a week or two.

A stop back at church to meet up with mommy, then back home.  Bonus: leftover cake from the church meeting. As expected, Ruby goes to bed like a felled tree goes to the ground.  Alex finally wakes up from his nap, oblivious to our entire mall adventure.  Mommy and daddy finish off the cake. Good, but could've used some milk.

The end.

Spring! Weekend! Extravaganza!

If you'd told me a few years ago that, one day, a weekend full of parks, neighborhood walks and easter egg hunts would score a 10 for me on the Fun-O-Meter, I'd have thought you were describing my waning years at the Lazy Dayz Retirement Home.  But no, it describes the here-and-now reality of the Schweitzer household, and I couldn't be more pleased.

Saturday, April, Ruby and I went on a advance recon expedition to Pullen Park in Raleigh.  This is the place we're planning to hold Ruby's birthday party in May.  It's about 80 acres tucked right in the middle of the city, with a 100-year-old carousel, paddle boats, a miniature train that chugs around the perimeter of the park, and vast areas of dedicated frolicking.

The weather was beautiful, so the place was packed with families, couples, skulking teens, and even a wedding party.  We decided that, come the day of the birthday party, I'll have to show up early and secure a table, then guard it against encroachers until the sheer inertia of our merrymaking establishes unquestioned domination.  We could have done it the easy way and made advance reservations for a picnic shelter, but a) that's for suckers and b) by the time we called, there were no more reservations to be had.  Darn!

(By the way, Pullen Park is not always fun and games.  I'm happy to say we didn't see any chalk outlines during our excursion.)

Sunday was even more beautiful and therefore demanded greater amounts of nature communing.  After church, we met some friends at a nearby park (coined the "Dragon Park" by Ruby because of the large and inexplicable half-buried dragon sculpture near the picnic tables).  Ruby joined one of her friends in collecting dozens and dozens of yellow blossoms that had fallen off some sort of vine on a trellis near the playground.  Amazing that we've only been in spring for about a week and these little flowers are already fading away.  Ruby, of course, wanted to bring them home and put them in water.

After the park, it was on to an easter egg hunt at the home of one of April's dance students.  This turned out to be the first egg hunt that Ruby has actually gotten the hang of -- last year's big egg hunt in Ohio left her perplexed, clingy and mostly egg-less.  Not so this year, and it became clear that the hunt was far more rewarding for Ruby than the finding, opening and devouring.  After the yard had been stripped clear of all  eggs by the eight or so kids, she continued her search with a determination that would have made Cap'n James Cook shed a tear of appreciation.

Later in the evening, Ruby and I took a walk through the neighborhood.  She is such a conversationalist.  We talked about shadows and trees and cars and why there are yellow lines on the road and why the ducks quack at us when we come too close and what shape the moon looks like.  When she's had a long day, she gets into a chatty mode where no detail, no matter how small, escapes her observation and commentary.  This was one of those times.  The unexpected delight of the walk was encountering two cats who cautiously approached and let us pet them.  Ruby speculated on where they lived and whether they were friends and whether they'd like Prancer and Thumper.  We resolved to take another walk this week and see if we can visit with them again.

By the way, Ruby's 3rd birthday is May 6; consider yourself notified.  :)  We'll post an Amazon wishlist for the giftedly challenged.

Thanks for clearing that up

Spotted on the t-shirt of our waitress this past Sunday:

I'M NOT DEAF

I'M JUST IGNORING YOU

There's a Party Goin' On Right Here

Thursday was my 30^th birthday.

On Thursday evening we had a low-key celebration at home.  The real birthday celebration occurred at Disney World (as did the liquidation of the birthday budget), so I wasn't expecting much on the actual day.  April bought me a journal, and Ruby picked out a pleasant little bookmark with a frog on it.  My mom, dad, sister and brother all called to wish me a happy birthday, and even my nephew Adam out in California gave me a call while I was at work.  I was honored and humbled, because I'm not so good at remembering birthdays.

And that was that, or so I thought.

Friday evening, we went out to eat at April's behest.  When we returned home, I entered our front door commenting on some mail I'd just retrieved from the mailbox when--GAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!  I was assaulted by a gaggle of friends hiding in our house.  A surprise birthday party!

April says I fell back against the door when they jumped out.  I don't remember.  I'm sure the brief look of terror and panic on my face was enjoyed by all.

I have to hand it to April, though -- she really took me by surprise.  This kind of thing isn't her forté, mostly because she's an absolutely rotten liar and would have betrayed any prevarication under the slightest pressure.  But she pulled it off and, perhaps due to the increased languor of my 30-year-old brain synapses, I was none the wiser. Many thanks to everyone who showed up and made the evening a smashing success.

Here's my birthday reading list -- books I either received or bought with gift cards:

• Letters from a Nut by Ted L. Nancy

• Angels and Demons by Dan Brown

• The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning

• Don't Waste Your Life by John Piper (I bought this with a gift card; I don't know what I would have thought if someone had bought it for me.)

As for turning 30, there's not much to say.  It hasn't affected me more than any other birthday.  No, really.  It hasn't.  Sure, I failed (wretchedly) to make my first million and, yeah, maybe the first response of many of my friends upon learning of my birthday was "What?  You're only thirty?" and, okay, maybe I did collapse on the kitchen floor yesterday sobbing about my wasted youth.  But, really, I'm okay.

Adventures with the Mouse

Well, we made it back.  Bottom line: It was a good trip.  A great trip.  Ruby enjoyed Disney World just as much as we hoped she would.  Two days at the Magic Kingdom, one day at Epcot, plus 101 Real! Live! Characters! to meet 'n' greet throughout.  The weather was great, with just a brief shower on our last evening.  High 70s for the most part -- in January, we had to remind ourselves.

The highs: Short lines.  Not very crowded, at least by Disney standards.  Our longest line was our first -- Ruby and I went on the Dumbo ride.  This was the test. Would she balk?  Cower?  No sirree.  She endured the ride with quiet, wide-eyed determination.  As soon as we got off: Daddy, let's do it again!  A success.

In fact, Ruby's stamina was amazing.  She never got pooped out.  She greeted Cinderella, Pinnochio, Mickey Mouse, et al. with smiles and open arms.  She eagerly anticipated and endured most (see below) of the rides.  When we went to the Biergarten in Epcot for lunch, Ruby demonstrated a heretofore-unknown appreciation for German folk music when she insisted that April take her out to the dance floor to groove to the sweet strains of Oktoberfest Musikanten, the live in-house band.  She spun and marched around on the dance floor, alone except for the hundred or so diners looking on.  She was unfazed.

The lows: Strategic miscalcuation on the part of the parents.  We decided to take Ruby on Pirates of the Caribbean, which, as April and I recalled from previous visits, was a jolly yo-ho-ho-and-a-bottle ride populated with cartoony singing pirates.  Well, not quite.  First, it's dark -- really dark.  It has lots of skeletons.  The pirates are not so much jolly and singing as they are cuthroat and sinister and, yes, singing.  Ruby was not a big fan.  She curled up in April's lap and hid her face for most of the ride.  Naturally, the ride got stuck, so we sat listening to grumbly inebriated pirates shouting looped invectives at each other for about 10 minutes.  Once we got off, though, Ruby bounced back quickly.  As we walked through the PotC gift shop on our way out, she ran to grab some toy swords so that we could have a pirate swordfight.

I've posted a bunch of photos to my Flickr account in a set named Disney World 2005.  Take a look.  I also added a feature on the right column of this page that will randomly display pictures from the Flickr account.  I'm just sayin'.

I'll post a link to some of the "professional" Disney photos tomorrow. Don't get your hopes up.  While there are a few gems, one gets the impression that photographer training at Disney consists of handing the applicant a camera and teaching him how to push the shiny button while aiming it in the general direction of tourists; bonus points for positioning them with the sun shining directly into their eyes.

And, no: We didn't need no steenkin' gravity.

Off to Disney World

Be back on Monday.

Here's to you, Sparky

On this day in 1999, Charles Schulz announced his impending retirement.  The last original Peanuts strip ran on February 13, 2000 -- one day after Schulz's death.  I have been a big fan of Peanuts since my days as a wee young lad, and I have the library to prove it.

(That is, if my mom hasn't tossed all the Peanuts books boxed up in the basement in Ohio.  Either way, mom, I love you.)

Now for some Peanuts trivia: In 1954, Schulz introduced a new character into his strip named "Charlotte Braun."  Charlotte was something of a female counterpart to Charlie Brown, even referring to herself as "good ol' Charlotte Braun."  Her existence was short-lived, however; she disappeared after 10 strips.

The reason she disappeared was apparently because she was unpopular with the strip's readers.  One reader actually wrote to Schulz and asked him to get rid of Charlotte.

Schulz wrote back to the concerned reader and promised to get rid of Charlotte.  In his letter, he wrote, "Remember, however, that you and your friends will have the death of an innocent child on your conscience."  Included was a picture of Charlotte Braun -- with an axe in her head.

Needless to say, Charlotte Braun never appeared in another strip. The letter was donated to the Library of Congress.

I've always thought of Charles Schulz as a kindly old man with big glasses dispensing tidbits of insight and wit on the human condition.  But when he wrote the letter mentioned above, he was just a few years older than me.

It's somehow heartening to know that his sense of humor could be a bit twisted at times.  I appreciate him all the more.

Thanksgiving 05

Holiday preparations are in full swing.  We're not travelling to Ohio this Thanksgiving, the first time in seven years.  This is due mostly to April's intense queasiness and resulting reluctance to subject herself to a nine-hour drive.  Nothing personal against our family, of course -- I've never experienced any of the dread that is commonly associated with family get-togethers over the holidays.  Woohoo, go family!  April and I have both been blessed with an uncommonly wonderful group of blood relations, and I'll be sad not to share some turkey with them.  We'll be up for Christmas, though.  Mark my word!

We'll be joined by our good friends Tim P. and Anna G. for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.  I anticipate a bit of a rivalry.  April and Anna are pregnant, and I've warned Tim that we can't let these pregos out-eat us.

(Note: I just did a Google search for "pregos," to make sure it wasn't a derogatory term -- the first link in the results seemed to confirm that it isn't.  The second link in the results was a news article entitled "Pregnant Bikini Contest - Pageant for Pregos - Pictures - San Diego."  YIKES.)

(I didn't click the link.)

Anyway, it should be an excellent holiday feast.  We're planning to be way ahead of the curve this year and follow up Thanksgiving with a hunt for a Christmas tree on Friday.  I'm thinking of trekking out to Food Lion and poaching the largest, wildest, most awe-inspiring tree that can be had for $29.95.  Wish me luck in this manly endeavor.