Game Time

Bonding Time

I still find it strange to have an email pop up at work from Keene Friend even though we’re into the third day of his working with me. It’s a problem I love having. I’m already hearing reports from some of our employees who are impressed with him; no surprise there. I acted as point man for him today as he negotiated his maiden voyage through Kelly Square which any Worcesterite will tell you is not for the faint of heart.

Love's Daddy's Chest, Almost as much as Mommy's

Too Cute

My Favorite Panamanian and I had a great talk with my Favorite Son last evening. He’d just returned from work and he had the BRS snuggled up on his chest, fast asleep. You could tell there was some serious father-daughter bonding going on. I felt like telling him these are only the first few steps on a very profound journey but I think both he and the ABFA realize their lives have been irrevocably altered, in the best way possible. The image also reminded me of my own life when I would come in late in the evening after running around with the Army all day and have some quiet time with both my own daughter and that now so grown up new father. There is something so calming, life fulfilling, and transcendent about those moments when you look down into that little face; at least until a diaper change is needed.

Sleeping Beauty

She Starting to Meet Some of her Other Cousins

We tried to connect with the New Jersey contingent but they were on a family night out to the restaurant and apparently having a very good time. They tried to take a group photo with the predictable results you see here when a two year old is involved and wants to take charge of the process. The FBR is nothing if not persistent.

One Attempt

But I want Control of Camera

Date night had us at the movie theater, of all places, to see Game Night. This was really funny and not in the usual raunchy, adult manner of so many of today’s R-rated comedies (not that raunchy is a bad thing). Jason Bateman and Rachel McAdams play a hyper-competitive married couple who host a weekly game night with equally competitive friends. A supposedly staged kidnapping turns out to be the real thing with the game players only gradually coming to realize it. Each of the ensemble cast has their moments to contribute and the snarky one liners are almost non-stop. I was afraid this was one of those movies where all the funniest lines were spent in the trailers but that was not the case. Jesse Plemons as the creepy cop neighbor steals virtually every scene he’s in but this movie belongs firmly to Bateman and McAdams. This type of quick witted comedy is right in Bateman’s wheel house but McAdams is more than up to the challenge of keeping up with him. It’s a smart, adult movie that never takes itself too seriously.

Convergence

The BRS - Serenity Personified - Until She Wakes Up

Almost a decade ago I strongly urged Keene Friend to apply for a job opening at the place I work. He decided against it at the time for some very good reasons but regretted it when the company he was working for went out of business a couple years later. I’m guessing it was fated to be because yesterday he showed up to be my new operations manager, a position that opened up due to  series of what I now view as fortunate events. I’m not being completely altruistic by bringing him on board because I look like a hero to my client by quickly filling an open management position with a quality replacement. I know he’ll flourish in this position and it will be cool having a guy I have complete trust in working in argulably the most important position in my company. I’ll just have to train him on the importance of marking the First Friday of each week.

My New Ops Manager in his Office

The granddaughter report today is sparse as we caught the FBR at a frazzled moment, at least for her parents, last night. My Favorite Son did release some additional photographic evidence of the BRS’ undeniable beauty which I proudly share with you. We’re trying to figure out a time for my wife to get up to New Hampshire again to spend some time with the BRS. My Favorite Panamanian is once again flying the coop for warmer climes in a little over a week and not returning until April. She will, at long last, hopefully complete the sale of our land down there. I’m sure there will also be some time spent in the condo, just guessing there.

3 Beauties Spanning Four Generations

Role Model Encounter

The BRS Surrounded by Role Models

A very important event happened in the life of the BRS this past weekend. She met one of her great grandmothers for the first time. She also shares part of her name with this special lady. I know this woman, the ABFA’s paternal grandmother, played a big role in molding the ABFA’s values and outlook on life. As I said when the BRS first appeared – she was very fortunate to be surrounded by a large number of very strong female role models and this weekend she got to meet one of them. She is truly blessed.

Granddad Hangs

Not much to report as I head into Monday because I spent most of Sunday in a vegetative state recovering from Saturday’s exertions and a cold that didn’t want to retreat. I developed a new found admiration navigating around Netflix which I’d never spent a lot of time doing. I usually just found what I went in looking for, watched it, and left (kind of like my approach to shopping). Swirling through the different menus I found a lot of stuff I’ll probably end up watching eventually, if I ever do retire. I was in Netflix because my daughter is trying to convince me to watch the iconic series Mad Men which I’d never seen before. Since she (and my son) are my pop culture gurus I take their suggestions seriously. I am trying but I find liking this series very hard because there is no one to root for. I want to strangle each and every character (some more than others, granted). I’m up to episode five of the first season and will keep on banging away at it hoping to discover what made it so popular.

Wingman was scheduled to return to the east coast late last night from his stay with his mother, helping her out as she deals with the unfortunate passing of her husband. He sent me this picture of a beautiful black lab and asked me (I thought jokingly) if I wanted another black lab. I opened a message this morning to learn he was actually serious. His mom now has 4 dogs, a cat, a bird, 2 lambs, a granddaughter, and a great-granddaughter to take care of all by herself. While my heart immediately leapt to getting another dog (I really miss having one) my brain overruled it since we’ll be spending several months in Panama in upcoming years and that would make it too hard. Anybody out there reading this who does want a lab, and I cannot recommend the experience highly enough, please email me. I did point out to Wingman that his daughter, the FBR, was a well know admirer of the canine species. That dog lover rebelled against the ending of our FaceTime call last night until she demonstrated some of her dance moves (to the music of Moana, of course).

I polished off another book by Marc Allan Edelheit, he of Stiger’s Tigers fame, with Lost Legio IX, The Karus Saga. He posits the 9^th Roman Legion of Emperor Hadrian was not wiped out by Celtic tribes but instead transported to another world to fight in wars there against evil. Edelheit does a fantastic job of bringing the reader into the day to day life and fights of the Roman legionnaire. I can’t wait for the next book in the series to come out.

Thunder North

The Three Amigos Yesterday at Scores

What with everything that’s been going on lately, such as the arrival of the BRS, my thunder running has been severely curtailed. I was genuinely worried at the impact of my failure to patronize bars in either New Hampshire or Rhode Island would have on the hospitality business in each of those two states. Since my wife had a couple TJ Maxx gift cards burning a hole in her purse we decided to take my beer drinking talents north to tax free New Hampshire. We had completed coordination for that thunder run when Great Aunt came up on the net suggesting a Saturday evening at McShawn’s in Rhode Island. It’s nice to have options in life but we went with New Hampshire because I thought my wife would spontaneously combust if she couldn’t invade the Keene shopping venues.

Our New Clock

On Friday she and the Neighborhood Mafioso wrestled in a huge clock they had been in search of for the past week. My Favorite Panamanian decided we needed this feature over the fireplace which had been vacant since the removal of the Christmas wreath. She’d sought an appropriate clock with her partner in crime over a wide swath of central Massachusetts before they spied this one hanging in the office of a furniture store salesperson. They are nothing if not determined and wheedled the clock down off the wall and demanded a discount since it had already been in use. The salesperson never knew what hit her. Since they were out shopping that meant my wife had to buy accoutrement for her granddaughters, this time some clothes. She had them washed and laid out on the kitchen counter and I thought it was cool seeing the difference in size between the two.

Granddaughter Apparel

We arrived in Keene and immediately kidnapped Keene Friend in order to take him out to lunch. Since everybody else in Keene seemed to have the same plan we found a couple of our usual haunts with significant waiting lines and we ended up at Chili’s which turned out to be a good deal. I hadn’t been to this place before but I like it immediately when the sassy maître di started picking on Keene Friend and actually thanked him for behaving himself while we were there as we departed. My wife slowed the car down sufficiently to let Keene Friend and I disembark at the Elm City Brewery before she made her bee line to the shopping centers.

The FBR Was Out and About Yesterday

We found the Elm City bar crowded and since my favorite bar tender was not on duty we decided to change course and walked into town to take up residence in the Lab n Lager, one of the landmarks for our annual pub crawl. We had vectored the Cantankerous Friend in to join us and he was already on station when we walked in. He’s been noticeably absent in recent years due to the yeoman work he does administering to the needs of his ailing father. It was good, if loud, having him join us and the beer/shared memories flowed without stop.

Which Did Tire her Out Just a Tad

Wingman DNA Results

At a certain point in the afternoon as the Lab n Lager began to fill up with college kids we wandered down the street to Scores to set up shop. We acquitted ourselves well surrounded by television screens tuned to virtually every sport conceived by man. While we were there we received a text from Wingman who revealed the results of his DNA test that we got him for Christmas. It turns out he’s every bit as white bread as my side of the family although I did call his attention to a disturbing amount of French blood, conveniently omitting comment on my own 14%. Of course the rest of the family rushed to his defense on the group text which due to my danced stage of thunder running I was not properly disposed to deal with. It was a lot of fun.

FBR Back in Her Duck Suit

Back When She First Wore It

We also video called my daughter and the FBR as she fought a delaying action against bed time. My daughter shared some photos of the FBR’s tactics which included the donning of an old Halloween duck costume and hiding in in her tent. The FBR is nothing if not resourceful. Her uncle, my Favorite Son, failed to send any new photos of the BRS but I assign that to the lack of sleep endemic to a house with a two week old in residence.

Found! Hiding in her Tent

Wingman Found this Picture of Himself  from a Couple Years Ago

My wife did eventually show up after night had fallen and the three high school buddies had done our best resurrecting the local hospitality industry. We adjourned across the street for dinner at Margarita’s where my wife regaled us with tales of her shopping exploits. At least that’s what I think she was talking about. We had an ice storm scheduled for this morning so my wife graciously drove us home last night with a less than alert co-pilot. It was so good hanging out with old friends yesterday, something you can never get enough of.

Great Way to End the Evening

Arming and a Grumpy Cat

Grumpy Cat Face About to Emerge

Our “beloved” president will never be accused of being a deep thinker, that’s not what got him elected. He seems to have latched onto the idea of arming teachers as a way to end school shootings. I think bringing more guns, in untrained hands, is an incredibly bad idea. I do agree with the president that mass shooters are defined by their cowardice. It makes more sense to me to assign a trained law enforcement officer to each school as a deterrent. It doesn’t look like any meaningful gun repeal is possible with the current political environment. We may have to wait until the promising younger generation reaches voting age. The mere presence of a law enforcement officer trained in the use of deadly force would keep the cowards at bay. You never hear of mass shootings in inner city schools which usually have a permanent police presence. It wouldn’t have to be an “in your face” presence either, just well-advertised. As one of the grieving fathers said at the white house a couple days ago – we must protect our children.

Maybe a Tad too Far

I was privileged enough to watch the FBR open her copy of Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer yesterday. She was very excited to have a gift but her reaction as kind of muted because she really didn’t understand what a DVD was. Once she did realize and our daughter got the movie up onto the screen she was mesmerized and didn’t have any interest in further conversation with her grandparents.

Proud new DVD Owner Yesterday

We also had a nice talk with the other granddaughter, the BRS, or more accurately with her parents. The BRS had another appointment with the doctors and continues growing apace, putting another pound on. The doctor also gave the new parents some medication for gas, for the BRS I quickly add. Apparently the BRS is seriously gaseous, something I hope resolves itself in the couple decades before she reads this. If not, it will offer some fodder for laughter. My son and the ABFA say the BRS has what they describe as her “Grumpy Cat” face. The face appears whenever she is not fed or diaper changed quickly enough. We were still laughing about that when the BRS woke up and immediately showed the face when she wasn’t immediately fed. It was too funny and again, hopefully something that will resolve itself as she gets older. If not, again, too funny.

Snow Again!

I am going to need the medicinal effects of the ceremonies this afternoon to mark the First Friday of the Week if for no other reason (and we all know there are dozens) than this week’s weather. We started out with six inches of snow which was followed with two balmy days with temperatures in the mid-70s and then yesterday a day of ice and snow. Ahh New England.

First Walks and Debunking

Favorite Son and the BRS Out for a Stroll

Yesterday’s fabulous summer like weather meant one of the first ever outside walks for the BRS. My son called later in the day to report she seemed to like the exposure but at one week of age it was hard to gauge. During our FaceTime call we did note that she seems to becoming more aware of the world. Her eyes were fully open and looking around for the first time. She also immediately focused on her dad as soon as he spoke and was looking around for her abuela when she heard my wife’s voice. I’m assuming they had a number of heart to heart talks during my wife’s week up there. This, of course, sent my Favorite Panamanian into the throes of grandmotherly bliss.

Traveling Girl!

Our talk with the FBR was decidedly less serene as we watched her mother try and convince her to eat a kale and tomato salad. The kale went okay but tomatoes were being launched in unfortunate directions. She does have some of my genes!  Her dad, Wingman, is enroute to Missouri as I write this to help out his mom. He flies with our thoughts and prayers. The FBR is receiving a gift today that I sent her as soon as she left on Monday, her very own copy of Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer! I’m sure her parents will be thrilled with this acquisition (tongue firmly in cheek). I came home to a similar surprise as I noticed an amazon package at the front door. My daughter and I always end up discussing books whenever we’re together and she strongly recommended Lincoln in the Bardo, by George Saunders, which she’d recently read. Needless to say the surprise package was a copy of the book. I was really touched and love having an actual book instead of the electronic version I now read most of my books on. I also felt a little guilty because as much the FBR will love the movie I sent, her parents will probably be cursing me during the umpteenth time they are forced to watch it with her.

I’ve been truly amazed at the poised and determined effort by the young victims of last week’s mass shooting in Florida to throw their pain into the faces of NRA supported politicians. While there’s always this hue and cry following one of these despicable acts this one feels different. They certainly landed some body blows on the politicians who couldn’t avoid them. There was even an historic meeting at the White House with the president himself and some of the dialogue was heart wrenching. My only hope is the national media won’t lose their current ardent interest in the story. Despite what is often written about our youth I was impressed with this group’s eloquence, drive and most of all, their courage.

Along the same lines I saw this picture posted on Facebook by a well-meaning friend today. It purports to show Bill Gates’ 11 rules for living. 

I was going to re-post it here because I liked what is said to young people less focused than the ones I wrote about above. There are some very good truths captured. Before I did that though, I decided to follow my own advice about confirming the veracity of these type messages before passing it on. It took me less than twenty seconds via a Google search to reveal that Bill Gates did not use these rules in a speech to high school students. They have been incorrectly attributed to him since the year 2000. They’re still good rules if a bit dated now (I particularly like #s 1, 6 and 8). They were originally conceived by an educator writing about over-indulged, politically correct teenagers and were incorrectly attributed to Gates, I assume to give them more cache. Here’s what the original rules were:

Rule No. 1:   Life is not fair. Get used to it. The average teen-ager uses the phrase “It’s not fair” 8.6 times a day. You got it from your parents, who said it so often you decided they must be the most idealistic generation ever. When they started hearing it from their own kids, they realized Rule No. 1.

Rule No. 2:   The real world won’t care as much about your self-esteem as much as your school does. It’ll expect you to accomplish something before you feel good about yourself. This may come as a shock. Usually, when inflated self-esteem meets reality, kids complain that it’s not fair. (See Rule No. 1)

Rule No. 3:   Sorry, you won’t make $40,000 a year right out of high school. And you won’t be a vice president or have a car phone either. You may even have to wear a uniform that doesn’t have a Gap label.

Rule No. 4:   If you think your teacher is tough, wait ’til you get a boss. He doesn’t have tenure, so he tends to be a bit edgier. When you screw up, he’s not going to ask you how you feel about it.

Rule No. 5:   Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your grandparents had a different word for burger flipping. They called it opportunity. They weren’t embarrassed making minimum wage either. They would have been embarrassed to sit around talking about Kurt Cobain all weekend.

Rule No. 6:   It’s not your parents’ fault. If you screw up, you are responsible. This is the flip side of “It’s my life,” and “You’re not the boss of me,” and other eloquent proclamations of your generation. When you turn 18, it’s on your dime. Don’t whine about it, or you’ll sound like a baby boomer.

Rule No. 7:   Before you were born your parents weren’t as boring as they are now. They got that way paying your bills, cleaning up your room and listening to you tell them how idealistic you are. And by the way, before you save the rain forest from the blood-sucking parasites of your parents’ generation, try delousing the closet in your bedroom.

Rule No. 8:   Your school may have done away with winners and losers. Life hasn’t. In some schools, they’ll give you as many times as you want to get the right answer. Failing grades have been abolished and class valedictorians scrapped, lest anyone’s feelings be hurt. Effort is as important as results. This, of course, bears not the slightest resemblance to anything in real life. (See Rule No. 1, Rule No. 2 and Rule No. 4.)

Rule No. 9:   Life is not divided into semesters, and you don’t get summers off. Not even Easter break. They expect you to show up every day. For eight hours. And you don’t get a new life every 10 weeks. It just goes on and on. While we’re at it, very few jobs are interested in fostering your self-expression or helping you find yourself. Fewer still lead to self-realization. (See Rule No. 1 and Rule No. 2.)

Rule No. 10:   Television is not real life. Your life is not a sitcom. Your problems will not all be solved in 30 minutes, minus time for commercials. In real life, people actually have to leave the coffee shop to go to jobs. Your friends will not be as perky or pliable as Jennifer Aniston.

Rule No. 11:   Be nice to nerds. You may end up working for them. We all could.