The great adventures of Tickle and Fritz....

Let me start by first explaining the background, who are Tickle and Fritz? Angie and I made some great friends during our great adventure of adopting in China. Gracie, as some of you may know was one of 10 little ladies who were adopted in our travel group. We call these ladies, Hunan Sisters. One of these sisters is named Lia. Lia's parents recently moved from Missouri to Kansas as part of a job situation. They have lived in Kansas for around 2 years I think. Lia's dad, Todd, has just received a new job offer. The trick with this new job is that it requires them moving again, temporarily. Todd has accepted a job as a teacher in South Korea. This is a wonderful opportunity for the entire family, but it does require that they move quickly as they only have a few weeks left before they leave for a year. The job is only for a year, maybe two. They needed to rent out their home for that year, sell their car, move their stuff, etc etc. They have been a busy family for the last several weeks. Well the situation is now that they have rented the house and the legal mumbo jumbo is working itself out so they are winding down and packing and storing and the like. One if the items that required attention however was their dog, Fritz. They have had Fritz for something less than a year, but plenty long enough for him to become a loving part of their family. The two kids, Lia and her brother Zach, have grown quit attached to Fritz. The family decided to try and find Fritz a temporary home, somebody to watch and love him until they returned. Here is where our family enters the picture. Our family discussed the notion of helping out. We love our Hunan friends and really wanted to be able to assist in some small way as they depart on this great mission. (did I mention this was an English speaking Christian Academy in Seoul?) I talked things over with Gracie a few times and Gracie seemed really excited and wanted to help out "my Sister". I loved the way Gracie became so passionate about it. So, we contacted Kim and Todd and through much discussion worked out arrangements. We were told that when Lia found out that her Gracie was going to look after her Fritz, she felt much better about it.

Now here is the plan. The two dads were going to drive and meet up someplace near the middle of our two homes. This meant meeting in Mt. Vernon Illinois. (We live in Maineville Ohio, they live in Kansas) We picked a time of convenience and the road trip was set. In the mean time, I had an idea. An idea that become a little more complicated than I originally intended, but that is live after all. I suggested to Gracie that she might want to send something of hers to Lia for Lia to look after and care for while she took care of Fritz. Gracie immediately dumped out a bucket of pound puppies and started to sort through them. She settled on one named Tickle. Now I didn't see the rest coming, because I never see her play with Tickle, but suddenly Tickle is her prize possession. She started to tear up almost immediately when she said I should take Tickle, but she wanted to spend some time with him first and say goodbye since she was going to miss him so. I was caught off guard at this because I don't think Tickle had been out of his bucket in months. Over the next several days Tickle becomes the omnipresent item in our home. Wherever Gracie is, there is Tickle. Every night ends with a little sadness and weeping as she expressed her concerns about missing her Tickle. This was getting just a bit weird at this point. I got lucky with a conversation at this point. The mind of a Gracie is an interesting place to be sometimes. I finally figured it out, ( at least that's my story and I am sticking to it). Gracie was learning to understand the only way she knew how what her 'sister' must be feeling about Fritz. As the time to depart drew nearer the emotional roller coaster began to settle down a bit. I had told her that Tickle would have a great adventure and the Lia would be more than happy to care for her while Gracie was caring and loving on her Fritz. So, I developed a dad plan. You know those dad plans where we decide to do something terribly odd for our kids to make them feel better, yeah, a dad plan. They are not to well thought out, but usually they end up being priceless. I decided I was going to make frequent stops along my 300 mile journey to pick up Fritz, and I would carry Tickle with me as my travelling companion, and photo document our journey to Mt. Vernon. I would then turn over responsibility of Tickle to another dad who would take Tickle to Kansas and then to Seoul. It was a dad plan. ( I did leave Todd an out though, in case he didn't think it was a good plan, I could have taken Tickle back home and explained to Gracie that Tickle didn't have a passport and therefore was not allowed to go to Korea, but Todd agreed with the dad plan and all was well) When Todd returned home Lia was presented with Tickle and she was happy to have her. When I returned home, Gracie dropped to the floor and loved on Fritz and asked him if he was sad and then told him it was okay because she would take care of him until he got to go home, but this would be his summer home until then........ (aaaww, sniff sniff)

Well, now you have the background of the story. I will now begin to share with you the adventures of Tickle and Fritz, starting with our Journey to Mt. Vernon.

I got up early last Saturday morning and packed a cooler with 3 bottles of Mountain Dew and a big bag of Peanut M&M's. I put the cooler in the front seat and I placed a package for Todd and Kim in the trunk as well as a picture Gracie had made for Lia. I grabbed a hat because it was supposed to rain, and I grabbed my camera as well. I checked my wallet and made sure I had money, and I also made sure I had a cup and my can of Apple Skoal. I went in and kissed Angie on the head and hugged and kissed my Gracie and I was off to Mt. Vernon at 8AM sharp. As I am backing down the driveway I hear the weeping begin again. Gracie is weeping for Tickle, or for her Sister, or for Fritz, or all of the above I think. Gracie was sad. I then realized I had forgotten the towel and water bowl for the trip and had to run back in and get it. Gracie soon calmed down and everything was just fine, she had a fun day with mom and a birthday party on top of it. Now I have a bowl for water in case Tickle gets thirsty on the way there, or Fritz gets thirsty on the way back. The great puppy exchange has begun.

I am making good time and have an arrival time planned of about 1:30 which allows me time to make frequent stops. This is necessary for Tickles adventures and the fact that my bladder will hold exactly 10 ounces, which is two stops per bottle of Mountain Dew. The first stop is just north of Louisville.

Much to my surprise, Tickle informs me that she is thirsty but she doesn't want to use that ol' water bowl. She wants to get a fresh drink from a water fountain. As luck would have it, this rest stop has one of those old stone fountains right out in front. Tickle filled up and was feeling much better.

Now that she was refreshed Tickle wanted to explore a little and wanted to check out the sign posted at this rest area.

She also requested that we hang out at the picnic table and stretch our paws for a while before taking back to the road. Tickle likes to just sit and people watch when she has the chance.

Tickle then decided to go check out the map and see just how far from home we had come, and just how much farther we had to go. I had to use the facility at this point so Tickle took it upon herself to make a friend and request some assistance in viewing the map. She found a really nice lady who was willing to pick her up and let her get a good look at where we were.

Tickle was so excited that she wanted to phone home and tell everyone all about it, but she forgot and left her change in her other coat, oh well. I let her use my cell phone later in the car.

Our next stop was in the Vincennes district of Indiana. Tickle climbed up the pole to get a better look at the wonderful garden they had there. We didn't stay long because a lightening storm was coming up fast and it had already started to sprinkle. Tickle made discrete use of the bush at the bottom of the pole and we were off. ( Just as a side note, this rest stop had a guy staffing it who was standing outside the front door. This gentlemen never said a word, but he stared and stared at us the whole time we were wondering around here)

Tickle thinks she likes to ride on the cooler because it lets her see out the window better. I wonder why, there is nothing to see but empty fields and orange road cones.

We have now arrived at Skeeter Mountain in Indiana. I didn't know they had mountains in Indiana, but here we are. Tickle took a quick romp through the flower beds while I stretched my legs.

"Hey, that guy with the tattoo looks friendly, maybe I could make a new friend and you could take my picture with him, whadayathink?"

Tickle and her new friend at the Skeeter Mountain rest area. ( I was standing out in front when this couple walked up and I asked them if one of them could do me a really quick tiny little favor. This guys wife gave me that 'your creepy' look and walked on, but this guy asked what he could do and walked over towards us. I explained the situation briefly about my travel companion, and he said," oh, like on the commercial, sure hows this" Perfect. I hope this guy is not in the witness protection program. So far the people in Kentucky and Indiana have been wonderful)

It is now 1:32 in the afternoon and I have traveled for 306 miles with Tickle. We have arrived in Mt. Vernon right on schedule. Tickle helps me fill up the tank and we debate about what to eat. Tickle wants Steak n Shake, I want Hardees. We compromise and decide to eat at both places and just share our food. I decide I had better call Todd to let him know what we are doing and that I am parked in front of Hardees. I had made one unfortunate mistake at this point however. I had forgotten to account for the time zone change. So while it was 1:35 now, it was only 12:35 in Illinois. Oops!. I had an hour to kill, no big deal. Tickle said she tried to tell me we had plenty of time, but I wasn't listening. She said something about men not listening, but I don't recall exactly what it was she said. I spoke with Todd and he said he was running a bit behind so Tickle and I could take our time and enjoy the lovely sights of Mt. Vernon.

We proceed into Hardee's. Tickle and I both begin to people watch and take in the local culture. This is your typical Hardee's, that is to say its a dump. This particular dump is a highly diverse and multi cultural dump at the crossroads of several interchanges. This is the point where 64 running east and west from Louisville to St. Louis meets up with another highway running north and south from Chicago to I think Memphis. This being a major crossroads there are lots of hotels, gas stations and restaurants, but there are also a lot of travellers like ourselves, so its a great spot to people watch. The first observance is that Tickle and I got our order correct from the 12 year olds who were working the counter, however, we were the only ones who got what we asked for. A nice to listen too British lady was talking to her grandbabies about how grandpapa would go back and get their order fixed in just a minute. A not so nice large Russian women was less than polite to the kid when she went postal about her fries not being the right size. (Day vear, very nice, Evening vear, very nice, Svim vear, very nice ) The manager seemed to be a short tempered mafia type with a few teeth missing up front. I think she was the female version of Fredo, but maybe we should just eat and move on to across the street.

On the way to Steak n Shake Tickle took off towards this Red Roof Inn. She said, she wanted to nap, could we rent a room for an hour. I told Tickle there was no way in this life I was going to go into a hotel and ask if I could rent a room for an hour with my little dog. Was just not going to happen. Tickle wanted to know why. I pointed out that the sign stated that the lobby entrance was in the back. This was not a good sign and we would not be going there. When the sign even warns you of rear entry, its just not a good place. I drove past later and it had bars on the window, another sign that this is not someplace I need to be.

Tickle and I ordered some cheese fries and an orange freeze. In typical Steak n Shake fashion, this took 30 minutes to arrive, but we still had time to kill so no big deal. The longer we sat there, the more agitated Tickle became. I asked her what was bothering her and she told me she had something she needed to do. I said, okay, what is it. She informed me that it was just appalling how some of her compatriots were treated and she felt the need to assist them, and she needed to do it right now.

So, we went off to pay our bill and while I was dealing with the 'challenged at making change' person at the counter Tickle disappeared. I found her a few moments later stuffing dollar bills into a grab it machine and screaming into the glass box. "come towards the light Sponge Bob, come towards the light....." and also " leave the cat, the rest of you follow me......follow me to Freedom........." ( for those who missed it, that was a lame reference to Poltergeist and then a lame reference to the best ever ESPN commercial) ( While I was taking this picture, the line of people waiting to be seated was watching me and I heard on granny type lady snort and giggle but when I turned around they were all looking at the ceiling, I looked up there too but I didnt see anything)

Now that we have filled our bellies, Tickle wants to go explore the area some more. There is not much to look at except for hotels and gas stations so we go looking at the hotels. Tickle wants to go in one and check out the lobby so I drive around to find one to appease her nagging. (what is it with women and nagging) Okay, first I drive down the end of the lane and check out the Motel 6. As I loop around the building I look at the people I see. The first on is a skinny little blond lady with stringy greasy hair, tattoos on her arms, no front teeth and a marlboro sticking out her mouth, as well as she is wearing a dirty white wife beater shirt with no bra and has the "tennis ball in the sock appearance" going for her. I then say a Hispanic gentlemen with a hair net and a cigar with an apron on and another gentleman with black socks and sandles. None of this is all that bad until you recognize that this is the employed staff. I kept driving. I then found a super 8 with bars on the windows, not going in there either. We already discussed the Red Roof Inn and their lobby entrance in back so not going there. Now let me drive across the street to the Drury Inn. These are usually nice, its right out front and looks clean from here, I should have a nice lobby for Tickle to explore. Once I figured out that the hotel was right up front but the driveway was way in back I got over there only to find that there were not many cars there. I pulled up into its breezeway and walked in the front door expecting to be in a nice lobby. Much to our surprise, another glass door. This glass door needs a pass card to open. How does someone get in? Well I assume you must first pay at the little postage stamp size window in the corner, but we left before trying to figure that out. Finally we decide to go into the Days Inn lobby. This hotel looks clean, no bars, no need to have a pass key or carry a bat to get in. As Tickle and I walk up to the door I notice that there is a women with a mixing bowl sitting at a little table eating cheerios at 3 in the afternoon. Strange, but whatever. I see a normal looking guy reading the paper in the corner, okay, no big deal. I walk up to the counter in the smallish lobby and start looking for a sign to take Tickles picture next to. About this time Tickle realizes something I dont and jumps down into my pocket. I am standing in front of the counter by a bell that says "ring bell for assistance" when a women of Indian decent walks up. She looks at me and asks if she can help me. I said, no not really, I just wanted to see if I could take a picture here of me and my travelling companion. She stared but did not speak. I exlained that my daughter had sent me along with a little dog named Tickle ( who is fighting me to stay put in my pocket) so I can take pictures of our travels for her to look at. (after being bit twice I pull Tickle up out of my pocket and set her on the counter next to the button) I asked , again, if I could just take a picture of Tickle on the counter next to her bell. She is still staring, I hear crickets, (chirp chirp chirp) I say, I will just take the picture and be out of your way. (chirp chirp chirp) CAN I TAKE THE PICTURE? Yes, she said. I take the picture, (chirp chirp chirp) and we are outa there. The lady is dumping more cheerios out of the little boxes into her bowl. I feel like we have entered the twighlight zone so we are off to the car to wait for Todd and Fritz.

Todd and Fritz have arrived. Tickle meets Todd, Tickle meets Fritz, and a nice meeting is had by all. Fritz wonders around a while and stretches his paws. He chats with Tickle for a while while Todd and I trade items from trunk to trunk. It is now about 4 oclock my time, 3 oclock local time. After no further ado, Tickle hops in the car with Todd and is off to meet Lia and plan her trip with them to Seoul. Fritz finds a nice comfy spot in my car and we are off towards Maineville. Todd and I exchanged some dad like chatter and the switch has been made.

The trip home was uneventful. Fritz insisted on stopping twice and walking around a bit. He talked to me a few times along the way, but by and large he was a quiet boy. Once we arrived in Ohio back at the homestead Gracie was eagerly awaiting the arrival of Fritz. Gracie and Fritz greeted, and then Bo and Fritz greeted. Bo and Fritz were a little unsure at first, but since neither one of them can see (Bo has no eyes, and Fritz has little vision) they just took their time sniffing. Once the sniff dance was over, all is well. Later that night Fritz was happy to sleep with Gracie for a while, and as you can tell Gracie is thrilled to take care of Fritz, "for my sister"

I will continue to chronicle the adventures of Tickle and Fritz and post pictures here and on Facebook so Lia can check in on her dog, and Todd and Kim have assured me they will post pictures from Seoul as well. I tried to get a picture of Fritz meeting Tucker, but it went by too fast to get, I will try again later.

Until later.................

put your behind in your past........

Okay, I am behind on posting anything. I have become behind because there has not been any one event worth a post, but I have been buried with lots of things going on.

First lets talk about Gracie. She is learning to ride without training wheels. She decided that she wanted to do this about two weeks ago. She asked me to take the wheels off because all the other kids had theirs off and she was a big girl too, so I needed to take hers off as well. This should mean she is ready, right? Right? RIGHT??

Not so much...........

My poor daughter doesn't even know what the word balance means. She still rides her little scooter with one foot on the ground all the time. I used this as one of a hundred different ways to try and teach her what balance meant. I suggested that she pick up her foot and once she was moving keep her other leg up off the ground and just let the scooter roll. She then responded with , " sure daddy, like this?" She then proceeded to pull her pushing foot off the ground and bent it at the knee and stuck it off in the air to her left side until she lost her balance and stomped it back to the ground to push again and repeated this about 6 times. " like that daddy?"

No, not like that, she looked like a drunk monkey ninja trying to snap kick imaginary dwarf testicles and stomp on chicken toes as she lumbered down the sidewalk. It was the goofiest darn thing I had ever seen in my life.

Not like that sweety. I tried to explain it again, complete with visuals as best as I could. The result was pretty near the same. This time she just didn't bend her knee as much and just stuck her leg straight out in front of her like a jousting spear.

We moved on to the bike again.

She gets sooooooooooooooo very frustrated with the whole thing, but to give her credit, she just refuses to give up. She will not say, enough is enough for today, let try again tomorrow. She wants to go until she gets it.

I have tried every method I have ever heard of or could make up on the fly. We have gone up and down hills, I have held her shoulders, her seat, her back, her handlebars, her head and even held nothing at all. We have done the street, the sidewalk and the grass. We have gone fast, slow and standing still. We have done short runs, and all the way around the neighborhood. I have run out of gas and ideas.

Enter the teens.

I just happened to have a guest the other evening. One of Gracie's bestest teenager girlfriends. A young lady from the old neighborhood. She offered to help, and off they went. 20 minutes later she comes in with the diagnosis of OMG, its hopeless. She wont go fast enough is the opinion. I agree, but I also know she rides her training wheels with such a starboard list that she cant get fast before falling down. I feel more discouraged than ever. Next comes this Saturday and Gracie's bestest teenager girlfriend babysitter from church. They decide to have a go. Things got a little better. This report came in that Gracie rode four of five pedals all on her own without falling over. This is HUGE progress. So, Sunday evening, I wanted to reinforce what Gracie had learned. Gracie might have learned something, but I still haven't. She still is about as balanced as one armed clothes hanger. She did inform me, (over and over again) that I was doing it wrong, but she couldn't get across to me what her bestest friend from church was doing that helped. I need reinforcements to come back, and soon.

The best part, or worst part, is that once she gets it, I will need a bike too. I cant keep up with her otherwise. My rather girthy self hasnt fit on a bike since I was about 12, so this should be entertaining all in itself.

As for the other goings on, I will save them for later posts...........

A bird or a message?

The other morning at work, Monday me thinks, around 7 or maybe 9 A.M. I was walking to the front of the shop near the break/lunch area and something moving caught my eye. It was something moving someplace where nothing should be moving. Something was a foot, or more to the precise point, something was a flutter. A young bird was in the shop. It had just wiggled its way out if its nest up in the vent intake to the building. Instead of going outside where it belonged, it turned inside and fluttered to the shop floor. Now first off this seems strange because it come inside to where it was dark instead of going outside into the bright morning sun. This young bird was trying to fly and any minute now it might get the hang of it, but more than likely it was just going to bang off stuff until it got itself hurt. In nature there are no roofs, and the ground outdoors isn't usually covered with sharp metal shavings. The inside of a machine shop was no place for a young bird to learn to fly. This was not the place where he should have come, he took a wrong turn and without some help he wasn't most likely going to make it.

I, being the first on the scene and the shop foreman decided that it should be my responsibility to protect the bird from this hostile environment, and to protect the employees from any calamity the discombobulated bird might cause. So, to this important task I assigned my silly self. I approached the bird at a casual walking pace and the bird fled from me. There were two other employees milling around (machine shop pun, sorry) in the area. Initially they both offered me some assistance in a least keeping track of the bird. After a few moments I think it become obvious to all of us that the more people involve the more bird tried to flee into small dark inaccessible corners. My assistants left me to my work of tracking the bird.

The shop is full of dock doors that provided ample opportunity for the bird to make an exit out into the light of the day, but the more I tried to corral the bird towards the light, the more the bird scurried and fluttered away under tables, under shelves, in corners any small little cramped dark space it felt safe from me. I realized that although I was doing my best and putting forth great effort early this morning to help save this poor bird, the bird was more frightened of my large imposing presents that it was afraid of the place it was in. The bird, having a bird brain of course, could not reason or understand the danger it was in. I knew it was in immanent danger, but the bird only sensed the danger that it felt I presented. I knew the bird needed saved from its situation, but the bird had no idea. Do you have any idea how hard it is to save something that doesn't want saved?

I was relentless in my pursuit of the little bird. The more I pursued it however the more diligently it fled. At one point I was able to get close enough to it that we looked each other in the eye. I spoke softly, smooth gentle whispers hoping not to frighten it further. I could see the fear it had in its eyes. It was terrified of me. I knew it was safe, but it didn't know that I wasn't the danger. The bird backed out of the tight little corner it got itself into and then attempted another flight. This time it made it airborne and half way across the shop. It was headed towards the light coming from the 3 open dock doors on the other side of the shop. I felt hopeful that it would make it out this time, but just before it got to the door it veered a hard left and crashed into a pile of plastic stock we have in the corner.

The bird worked itself up into the random pile of plastic pieces trying to hide from me. I again walked towards it. This time I decided that I had had enough of chasing after it and I approached with a different plan. This time I was going to use its fear of me to my advantage. I approached from the open side of the corner it had got itself trapped in. When I did this it pushed further up into its little dark place. I then moved some of the plastic pieces. This time however I did not move things so the the bird could get free on its own and hope it went towards the doors. This time I placed more obstacles around it. I moved things around to trap the bird and prevent it from fleeing anymore. The more I moved things the less room the bird had to maneuver. In a moment or two I had the bird pinned down and the obstacles were so massive and so close the bird had no place to go, it was stuck and trapped by me. The eyes were fixed on me as it struggled even harder to push against the bonds that held it in place, but the walls would not move. It just starred at me like it was hoping I would just go away and leave it alone there. If I did so, it would surely die right there trapped amongst the plastic stock in a dark little place. By now I couldn't blame it for being scared, I was so much bigger than it was, I was almost unimaginably large. I watched it struggle for a moment as I caught my breath from chasing this small creature around for the last 10 minutes. Then I carefully reached my hand down and softly, but firmly grasped this young feathered friend. As I lifted it up out of its situation I kinda hoped it would realize that I meant it no harm. This was not the case however, the bird had been silent up till now, but now it was screaming. It screamed for all it was worth, I imagine I got a good cursing in bird language. I did not let even this deter me from my mission however. I walked over to the most remote dock door, the safest place I could find and with a gentle toss, sent it on its way outside. Now that it was out in the light of day, with no roof and minimal obstacle, it attempted to fly again. Upon the second or third attempt I saw it gain altitude and make its way out to where it belongs. It was now free and safe. I wonder if it still thinks I was the danger?

I then needed to go wash my hands, because who knows what kind of cooties the bird may have had on it, but once I got washed up, all was well.

The above is a too detailed description of an actual event in my life this week.

(Too deep? comment request, if you read it, tell me if you get it)

The King is dead...............

PSA : Sarcastic bloviation know as a rant is to follow, you have thusly been warned:

Michael Jackson is dead. I heard this 'news' report the other night. I thought to myself, well that's unfortunate, or misfortunate as the case may be. I took in the information, processed it, filed it according to its importance and moved on. Why have so many of the rest of you failed to do this simple thing? 24 hour news reporting, speculation, Requiems, 'news' specials, docudramas, 60 minute specials and all the rest have flooded the airwaves ever since the man died. Holy cow, whats wrong with you people, what is wrong with the media? If I may be just a little callous for a second, the king is dead, who cares? Okay, now that I got that off my chest, let me break this down a bit more.

The picture above is a photo of a journalist, an anchor man, a man by the name of Walter Cronkite. Take a good look because you haven't seen many journalists or anchormen since this guy went off the air. Since the advent of CNN things have gone way downhill. I remember when you had 3 or 4 networks who broadcast the news. They had news on from noon to 12:30 then from 6:00 to 6:30 and national news came on at 11:00. We learned everything we needed to know in this span of time. Now even the networks start local news at 4:30 and we have several 24 "news" networks to choose from. They must find things to fill in this space. This is one of the causes of painfully repetitive and too much in depth reporting on things like Michael's death. I miss the way it used to be, it was better back then. If Walter Cronkite had been the man in charge the other day, the news would have went like this.

" Michael Jackson was reported dead today, he was famous for his music and he was infamous for a variety of other reasons. He was know as the King of pop. Some will miss him. And now for the Weather."

That would have been it, all, finished, finite, done, over DUN even. He would have told us what happened, avoided inserting his opinion or disrespecting the dead by saying anything negative, he would have told us just the facts and moved on to more news.

More news, you know, things like Neda and the crisis brewing in Iran, The missile laden ship North Korea has on patrol that is irritating China, the human trafficking bust that linked Taiwan and the U.S together in a human slave trade ring. Those real news items that got bumped by over kill coverage of MJ.

A lot of people might think that I just have this opinion because I didn't like Jackson. Oh, no, this is not the case. I think this is dangerous and I think this is a sad statement about our culture. It makes no difference to me who the dead guy is, this sort of media induced idolatry is sad and frightening. For those who believe otherwise let me tell you a few things. Michael Jackson was a man, a human being. Nothing more, nothing less. He deserves our respect and his family deserves to be left alone to grieve in their own PRIVATE manner. We are not his family and do not need to be part of his end. He is nothing more than a man and its awful that we try to make him into something else. If you are a person of faith, any faith, you must accept that it is in Gods hands now. If you are a person without a faith then its just over now, either way, let the story end and move on.

I have , I think, now stated why I think this is a sad commentary on our culture, but why do I believe this is dangerous. In short, the Tank Man. You remember the Tank Man don't you? He was the guy who for a brief moment stopped the heart of the Chinese people. He walked out, alone, in front of a column of approaching tanks. The tanks stopped. He stood there with his little bag of nobody knows what and held up the entire communist movement. The general public, 20 years later, still doesn't know his name. This one act of defiance, brief as it may have been, ended up putting China on a new road. A road that allowed huge reforms to come down to the people quickly. Yes China is still communist, yes China is still repressive, yes China still censors this very act and tries to hide its history from the public, but the government did bend to the will of its people and life has improved 100 fold over the last 20 years. No, China did not break, but it did bend, it bent a lot. So why did such a strong and powerful government and nation bend to the will of one man with a bag who ran up in front of a tank like he had no sense? They bent because some brave reporters got it on film and smuggled it out of the country thus avoiding the censors. Once this happened, the whole world saw what happened. We saw it over and over again. Why do I think this celebrity idolatry is dangerous? What would have happened if some international star suddenly died, like in a car wreck, or something? What if princess Di was killed that day? The media of today would have put her story on 24-7 for weeks and the Tank Man would have faded into history as a footnote and China would have been all the worse off for it. I realise that this is supposition on my part, but this whole Jackson thing is just disturbing.

So, dear media, I want to hear the news, just the news, and nothing but the news. I don't want your opinions, I don't want manufactured nonsense and sensationalism. I want short to the point and move on news, got it?

"Bill Clinton was found dead today in his home with a ho-ho in one hand and a cigar in the other. Hillary Clinton has confessed to his murder but asked for leniency calling it justifiable homicide. Her trial is set for July, now for the sports"

"Former rock star Keith Richards was found dead today of an apparent seizure. Wait, oh, he is alive, never mind, and now for the financial news"

"The Baker family theme park and school of ministry was raided again today. 14 people were arrested and the park is closed until further notice. The Baker ministry is still open for business but it has changed over to a jail ministry for reasons of convenience, and now for the weather"

This is what the news should look like in my opinion. What is going on right now is not news, it is certainly not journalism and I for one find it to be at least as distasteful as a Micheal J. Fox bobble head doll, which is now being made available outside his book signings. Only in America, land of the free and home of the slightly disturbed.

Walls down, walls up?

This will not be the normal type of post that I usually toss out there. To some folks this will make sense and have meaning, to most people this will seem cryptic, riddle-ish, and nonsensical. It is not intended to be that way, it just is what it is and what it is, is raw.

(is there a rule against putting 'is' in a sentence 5 times?)

Over the course of my life, particularly my younger years, I became rather adept at building walls. I could build them to keep things in, emotions, anger, fear, etc. I built strong and tall and thick walls to barricade these things within and keep them from seeping out into the world. I would do this to ostensibly control and prevent them (those things) from going out and causing damage to others, to relationships, and to myself and my situation.

I also was very talented at the constructions of walls to keep things out. I could keep out anything that I deemed a risk to hurt me. I could prevent people from getting to close, from getting to understand and know me and what I think and how I feel.

At some point when I became older I made the logical observation that while I was extremely talented in this area, the process actually was acutely illogical. Think about it for a minute, if I can keep pain out with walls, what was it that made me angry and hurt that I needed another wall to keep in? Once I became consciously aware of this issue I realized that I had barricaded a lifetime of darkness inside my walls and was keeping them all locked up in my mind. My mind was self destructing from the turmoil, but my outward appearance was remaining unchanged. This was the point in my life when something changed. Different people call this change by different names. Some say I found God, some say God found me, some say I got religion, some say I was born again, some call it an epiphany, some say I was covered in grace. Still others point to verses and say things like, everything old is washed away and made new again, you are (I am) a new creation. These phrases all have there faults but boil down to the same thing. I changed, I was changed.

At this point I began the demolition process of tearing down walls, not alone mind you, but the walls were torn down brick by painful brick. I would remove each brick and expose the mess behind it. The mess was cleaned up for me and the bricks were hauled away for me, but I had to remove each brick on my own. My hands became torn and callus and my back ached with each brick, but with my nightly rest my hands were bandaged and my back strengthened to begin anew the next day. Events were dropped in my life that motivated me to keep going with this process. Eventually, over a period of time I began to relish this labor because I knew I was getting stronger and learning and growing. Finally, the walls were down and the mess cleaned up and the piles of bricks were removed and hauled away.

Now you know the past, here is the present.

I miss my walls. I know it doesn't sound right, it doesn't even feel right. Something is amiss. There is a fox in the hen house I think. I feel like I am being worn down little by little without having any cover to dive behind and hide. I don't want to resort to my old ways of survival, because I am aware that the price was too high. I am not having success with doing the things I know I should be doing. I walk through each day uncomfortably. I feel the pressure beginning to build and my mind is getting more and more cluttered. My ability to be patient is getting thinner, I am getting grumpier and more short tempered. I cannot and will not allow myself to completely lose my temper ever again. That would simply not be fair to my wife or my daughter, so this must not ever happen. This battle is getting more intense however as I feel that old troll climbing back on my shoulder and it is getting more and more difficult to dismiss the rage that is boiling down in me.

Why do I blog? Well, many reasons. One reason is just this is a medium that I can use to communicate things. I am given the opportunity to share things about life in general, things about Gracie, things about politics, opinions, news events, whatever. I also have been know to use this medium for self therapy.

I am married to Bill Cosby..........

Okay, now that I have your attention, I am not really married to Bill Cosby, and my wife is not Bill Cosby, but my daughter has become the Cosby kid that he talks about all the time and I find that we, the parents, are living out all of the things Bill was talking about.

I have a Cosby kid in my house, it happened all of the sudden but I don't know exactly when. If you know the skit and conversations I am talking about from Bill Cosby, the following will sound all too familiar. Just do not forget, what follows is conversations and happening with MY daughter and not Bill's.

Gracie has suddenly gone deaf. Nothing her mother and I say has the ability to penetrate through her ears and take up even temporary residence in her brain. Her mom says stop talking, Gracie gets louder and says, "but but but I wasn't finished yet" I tell her to stand still she will stand in front of me gyrating like a drunken ballerina at a vodka tasting festival in Kiev. If I grab her arms to make her stand still she prances with her feet like she is standing on hot coals. Mom says set up and eat, Gracie lays her head on the table and sighs. But the best part is when you call her on these things.

Gracie, why did you do that, why did you walk away when I said come here, did you hear what I said.

Yes, I heard you, but I want listening.

Gracie, why did you walk away!

I wasn't listening........

Gracie, you said you heard me.

I did hear you, but I wasn't listening.............

Gracie, if you heard me, you were listening, why did you disobey?

I don't know.......... I'm sorry, I apologize, I wont do it again....

Okay Gracie, that's better, now sit up here and be quiet for a minute........

( she turns and walks away)

GRACIE !!!!!!!!!!!!! WHERE ARE YOU GOING!!!!?????????

I wanted to go upstairs and get something.

I just told you to sit down and be quiet and you walked away, right after you said you would listen.

I heard you, I just wanted to............................

You see what I mean. Her mother used to be a beautiful women (really she still is) but now she just sits with her hands pushing the skin up her face making those deep furrow wrinkles on her forehead and her left eye squints and twitches all the time.

Gracie will start to say something and then momma will interrupt to tell her no and be quiet. Then two seconds later, when no one is currently speaking, Gracie will say something and before the first syllable is out momma hollers, "DON'T INTERRUPT ME"

I just try to get through the day. When I come home from work I am swarmed upon like a lame rabbit getting tossed into a den of malnourished wolves. Gracie wants fresh meat to talk to and play with. Momma wants adult conversation and relief from the constant chatter that is Gracie. I love both of my ladies and I understand both of their viewpoints, but I just want to make it to the living room without getting wounded.

"Dad is great, he gives us Chocolate cake" This is a line from Bill Cosby. I understand this line now. Sometimes its easier for us dads to just let them eat cake, even if it is for breakfast, than to actually have to deal with the harsh reality of being a parent. No, I don't let Gracie have chocolate cake for breakfast, not often anyway. We must stick together and do our best to be responsible parents, but sometimes I do fall victim to just wanting to be the cool dad and take the easy way out. Every time I do this however, just like Bill, Gracie tosses me under the bus with momma. I let Gracie have chocolate milk for breakfast a few weeks ago. I told her that this was a treat, it was not normal, don't ask for it again, and please please please don't tell you mother I caved.

" DADDY LET ME HAVE CHOC CO LATE MIIIIIILK, DADDY DID DADDY DID, HE SAID IT WAS OKAY, IS HE IN TROUBLE NOW?

The answer to that was yes. Rightfully so, but yes. Thanks for throwing me under the bus kiddo.

busy busy busy..............

Unlike the Fed Ex commercial I am poking fun at with the title of this post, we have been busy lately.

Our furniture finally arrived, two click-clack sofas, one trundle bed (which is two beds in one) two book case/cubby hole things and ceiling fan all needed put together and installed in their new homes.

Definition of fantasy: assembled furniture at a reasonable price sold by rational mature sales people and delivered by competent professionals to the location of their use in a timely manner.

Definition of reality: a 21 year old boy sells you the furniture that you have to assemble all of and tells you there is no margin so no room for negotiation, takes 3 weeks longer to deliver it than he said, delivers it after hours and charges you cash as long as you help him carry it, and (for the piece of resist-aunce) shows up with your stuff stacked 10 foot high in the back of his Toyota pick up with his girl friend in the passenger seat. He of course charges you cash on a COD so he doesn't pay taxes or have to go to the bank. My neighbors were sitting in the driveway laughing............

So me and wonder boy carry the furniture up stairs to Gracie's room and downstairs to the basement, and while I am still gasping for air I hand him 60$ cash for his 8 minutes of labor and the 3 miles he put on his Toyota. For that kind of margin you would think some fish nets and red lipstick would be involved, but no. Does anybody know just how heavy a trundle bed is? I think this thing was shipped from Vietnam in the center of the ship to keep it from listing to one side or the other.

Once Mr. Clampit left our house, it was time to put this stuff together. I was warned to read the directions first. This was odd because the directions had no words to read. No words, just pictures. No numbers to tell me what order, just pictures. I end up putting the couch arms on backwards because in order to put the screws in you must be a master of yoga and be able to stand on your head and wrap your leg behind your head while holding the couch up with one hand and putting the screw in with the other. I am not good at yoga, but I manage to get everything put together and install the ceiling fan without electrocuting myself. This was a plus.

What else can I share, ah, the Tick. We have removed not one but two ticks from Gracie in the last couple of weeks. It would seem that the playground at school is near an open field of tall grass, tall grass that is full of ticks. The first one I pulled out of her ear, not to bad. The second one set up residence on the crown of her scalp. That one pulled a lump of flesh off with it and bleed a lot. Bad bug, SPLaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaT!

Let me see, what else has happened, oh yes, I am now the proud parent of a 1st grader. Gracie not only passed Kindergarten, but she did so brilliantly. She achieved at or above every benchmark that was set. This may sound like "no big deal" but for us, this was tremendous. Angie and I deliberated diligently over a long period of time about when to put her in school. We fretted about her being too immature, and at times that is still an issue. We worried that due to her speech problems and being so small and so young that she would not be able to adapt and flourish just yet. All of our worries and concerns vaporized one at a time, she became more confident, more mature and she learned to read and her extra work in ESL classes has been so helpful with her speech, its just amazing to us. I am so proud of how well she is doing and how much she loves school. She was a sad little princess-eta today, she cried because school was over and she will miss her friends and her teacher. She wants to get together with her teacher this summer for a picnic or something. Her teacher did an excellent job with her, I cant say enough about her, she was just priceless. We were so blessed to have this set of circumstances for Gracie, the teachers, the coaches, the neighbors, her friends, they have all been such a blessing to us, and it just feels like God put us right in the middle of where we needed to be, right in His hands, amongst a group of great people who really do care about Gracie and us for that matter. I couldn't ask for anything more. Even the neighbor boys look out for Gracie, its just way cool to see them with her, and her BFF down the street really does protect her and help her try to find her way.

Well, enough of the melancholy goo goo, time to hit the sack and try and get some sleep. I hear Angie upstairs sniffing and sneezing, sounds like another summer cold has hit ye ol ranch.