Traffic Termoil

I love the elderly. I actually hope to be one myself ,... someday (although I believe it's who you ask what elderly means, because my students would definitely say that I'm there already). However,... I do have a beef with the elderly.

Over the course of the past week, I've put in my share of time out and about and around the various shopping venues. I can't really say at this point what seems worse: driving to and around the stores or actually being in the stores and becoming challenged with the lack of room in which to maneuver my 4 foot cart in a 3 foot isle packed with others doing the same. Regardless of which one is the worse of evils, I'm beefing today about the first issue ... the driving!

I'm sitting at a four way stop and I'm next to go once the car directly across from me makes it through the intersection. My anticipation of being next builds with each full rotation of the car wheels. I slowly begin my slow creep forward in order to make the appropriate left hand turn when THIS CAR with a headless driver begins it's traffic movement directly following the car I was waiting on! I quickly look for a tow rope because this could be the only reasonable explanation for the premature crossing. Finding no said rope or chain, my gaze finds it's way to the driver seat in order for me to properly give the societal 'Hey, what gives?' look, but all I see are knuckles. That's right, knuckles,... clutching the wheel (10 and 2) and a fluff of gray hair. "Well, this can't be safe." The little lady had her eyes fixed directly on the car in front of her and damn the rules of the road, if she's in motion (slow motion), then others must respect her right of way and just adapt. This can't be correct though? Aren't their motor vehicle personnel who would stop such a thing? Shouldn't a license be given to those who can abide by universal common law rules of the road and not the rules of age? Where are the family members of this woman and why aren't they out looking for her? Perhaps even giving her tips on things such as, when to proceed through a four way stop.

Moments following the four-way debacle, I'm heading down a four lane road fixed between two major shopping stores. The chance of getting from one side to the other was near impossible with the traffic flowing in all four lanes. Yet, you know where this is heading? Damn the rules of the road, there's shopping to be had! All of a sudden, where even an experienced gamer in Frogger would have not dared leaped, there goes another elderly driver making the dash (no,.. a slow crawl) across all four lanes. Drivers on both sides begin hitting their brakes in hopes of avoiding a collision and all the probable insurance mess to follow. Like the parting of the Red Sea, cars came to a halt allowing the safe passage of this unlawful elderly speed racer. You have to be kidding? Another one? What is happening on our roadways?

Finally we had made our destination to the next store of isle horrors. As we began our pass in front of the store's entrance we came to our customary stop in order to let the pedestrians make the crossing in safety. As the group passed, there remained a lone straggler shuffling her way one line crossing at a time. With her pace at best equivalent to Tortuga, we waited and watched as she took her final step up onto the sidewalk. I kept scanning the lot, thinking there had to be someone with her, someone locking up the car or forgot something in the car and had to retrieve it. Nothing. No one.

"What do you think her reaction time is like in a car when it comes to making those quick decisions?" Kim said allowed.

"Not good, I would imagine," I replied as we found a parking spot. "Someone is going to end up in a serious accident at some point."

I've heard my parents talk about driving and the elderly before. I even understand the independence you take away from someone when they can't drive. Sam, our 15 year old, knows the lack of independence, but at what point do we stop the insanity of this blind, wishful driving? I had a thought the other day (as impractical as it may be) - beefed up bumper cars created for the elderly. Perhaps even separate driving lanes, similar to the ones they have for bicycles. With our society growing older, there will be more drivers out there who go at their own pace and their own rules.

I'm curious to know what the feelings and thoughts of others are. It's not a new issue, but it's one that's never been solved really.

Whoodle Watch

Someone will be keeping a watchful eye out for Santa tonight!

And Now I've Been Told Twice

"Have you put pictures on the blog yet?" Kim knew the answer to that question already. It was at the top of my list with balancing the bank account, vacuuming under furniture, and catching up on the People's Court.

"I'm on IT!"

With the recent departure of our beloved American Bulldog, Mojo to cancer, we decided to go in search of a new puppy. Enter Riley, the Whoodle. What's a Whoodle? Great question. Twenty years ago it would have been a mut, a mix, a non-specific type dog.

(Right: a photo of a grown Whoodle)

Today a Whoodle is considered a 'designer dog'. Part Poodle, Part Wheaten the Whoodle will will grow into,... a mut,... a non-shedding, allergy free, medium sized, bundle of happy go lucky, mut. The lady we got Riley from is currently working at getting the Whoddle recognized by the AKC as a bread she refers to as the Village Terrier. Now I have about as much knowledge regarding dog breeds as I do identifying what wine goes with what meal. So her telling me about the Village Terrier only makes me wish I had a good wine to go with my meal (what wine goes with basket of smelt?).

Riley is fairly brownish-red with a black muzzle, but as she grows, her hair color should change into a similar color as the dog above. She should grow to about 30 pounds. Quite a difference from Mojo, who strolled the neighborhood at around 115 or so.

With two weeks off before heading back to school, we have plenty of time to acclamate our new family member and to catch up on any sleep missed during the night due to potty training.

Merry Christmas

PS: I am working on the Christmas Note,... New Years Note next!

Matter of Tradition

The Great Tree Hunt '09

Each year it's a family tradition to bundle up, load up, and head out to the local tree farm in search of the perfect tree. Each year is also becoming a family tradition where we heavily negotiate the size of tree we are looking for. I prefer one that takes no added climbing devices in the house in order to place the angel on top, whereas the rest of the family wants one that goes from floor to ceiling,... and of course, Max would prefer that we do major construction on the house in order to have vaulted ceilings.

It's also become a tradition as to who carries the sharp object into the wilderness. "I got the saw!",..."No, I do!!" This is usually where I step in and control the blade of death before we end up making the unnecessary trip to the ER. Once we have our tree cart, we are set for the long eighth mile walk into the tree field.

Our third standing tradition has always been that each member selects their number one choice before we go with the one I want. This year Sam and Max thought that mocking me should be added to the list of traditions as they selected their choices. Little did they know that if their tree selections had actually had tags on them - we would have been on our way home!












Once we find the tree, it's a family effort to cut it down. With the size tree we often hunt, it's worthy of Paul Bunyen, and surely worthy of all of us pitching in to bring it down. After dropping the mammoth size lumber, there's but one solitary tradition left to go - Hoisting the

Tree in Victory! I wouldn't recommend this unless you've had some sort of proper training and/or have been cleared by your doctor.


Merry Christmas Everyone!

Ahhhh, Reading

How did he do it? Years ago I had a history teacher who made a living reading the newspaper. He never actually read to us, but instead sat behind his desk flipping page after page, droning over sports scores and national happenings. Everyone once in a while he would share whether his stocks were doing good or not. We in turn were quiet as happy clams because it meant that he was not actually instructing us and in turn giving out loads of homework.

Yesterday, I received a few 'prop' gifts for Christmas. One item was a newspaper. With the hustle and bustle of our Thursday Christmas parties, I never got around to unwinding the rubber band until today.

"Kids, before we get out of here today, you need to clean out your desk," I'm sure this is a standing order in most schools the last day before a break. As I wandered through the room checking on the various bottomless pits, I spotted the newspaper at the front of the room, still rolled neatly together. What a great opportunity to see what's in the news,... or so I thought.

There's something about me calmly reading in class that draws 4th graders - like passers-by to an accident, they just have to stop and see what's going on. Perhaps it's the look of peace on my face that sends out a non-verbal signal that says 'Help ME! I'm way to relaxed right now and need to talk about someone who has a cousin who has a pet that nearly got run over by the lawnmower years ago.'

As I unfolded each section and began to read different articles I can honestly say that I didn't make it through a single one. I did however learn that one boy wrestles a lot, another girl is working on a drawing for me, I was informed that the country that eats the most bread is Turkey, there's a birthday coming up in the spring time and would it be okay to bring a treat, another boy wanted me to know that he's leaving a paper in his desk which is done, but not due until we return,..... Yep, didn't finish one article. As I took a deep breath, glanced at the clock to see if the 10 minute cleaning period was almost over, I thought of my former teacher with wonderment - for he had mastered something that remains intangible to me - peace while reading. Merry Christmas Everyone.

Need to Know,.. or just,.. No Need

Coming back to school after a snow day is similar to the last day of school ... nobody is in the right mindset for education. Everyone carries on about what they did on their 'free day' from school. Everyone talks about the 'one more day' aspect, "We needed just one more snow day to round out the week!" Everyone shares what traditions they carried out in order to attain the elusive day, "I wore my pajamas inside out and backwards." ... "Well, I did that too, but I also put a huge spoon under my pillow!" Then the bell rings and the students show up.

Today's much like any other - it's every family every day. I'm moving beyond the 'every child every day' approach because I've realized one crucial element to helping every child every day is also helping every parent every day. Here, let me explain with a little something I like to call,... my daily encounter of the "Huh?"

"MR. KELLY!!!!!!" screams an impatient child. "MY MOM WANTS TO KNOW WHEN THE HOLIDAY PARTY IS!!!!"

"Huh? ... (slight pause) It's next week," I was stuck between answering the question and trying to figure out why she doesn't know this already. "I've been writing it in the newsletter for the past three weeks, as well as it being posted on line and in the school newsletter."

"Well my mom doesn't read those things, so she told me to find out from you!" and there you have it. In a nutshell, life has become to hectic to take time to search for information. It's become similar to our need for the feed me quick answer society in which we live. I'm guilty of it as well. I seldom get around to reading the classroom newsletter that my own children bring home,... but I also don't ask questions, so my 'in the dark' fatherly persona remains unblemished. Tip #1: Whenever there is an event at the school and the school along with the teacher both send out weekly news, chances are,... it's in there. Now you have no need to know what is already known.

Popcorn Snow

We've all experienced it,... you're at home doing your own thing, when suddenly you are hit with the smell of buttered popcorn floating through the air. Go ahead, take a few moments to breath in deeply and test your olfactory senses. The smell is intoxicating, mouth watering, and says to the body, it's time to relax and enjoy a good movie or book while munching on some corn.

The picture changes,... I'm in school teaching metric measurement to 21 eager learners who suffer from one form or another of metric measurement phobia, only because they had their parents say, "I hate metrics! Didn't get it when I was in school and I don't get it now. Nobody uses metric, sept those soft drink companies and Canadians. Good luck, you're on your own!"

"As we learn to count to ten, we discover that there are ten millimeters in a centime... ,"

"WHAT'S THAT SMELL?" one student blurts out.

"POPCORN!!!" others cry in unison.

"Where's it coming from? Do we get popcorn today? Will they bring it before recess? What time is recess? I LOVE popcorn! " the comments and questions begin flying.

"Okay. I have no prior knowledge of moms making popcorn for us today, but I do smell it as well. If they bring it to our classroom, then it will be here,... and we'll eat it. If not,... then we won't,....... eat it," I find that being real specific with directions and information helps somewhat, sort of, possibly, perhaps. "Let's get back to metrics for now. We have the 10 millimeters which make up 1 centimeter (pointing at the overhead screen with ruler displayed). You then have 10 centimeters which make up a decim...,"

"LOOK! SNOW!!" a window sitter calls out, drawing attention to the snow blowing around the playground.

"Oh, COOL!" a boy begins to lean over his desk in order to get a closer look at the snow fall.

"People, we all know what SNOW looks like! Remember what Mr. Kelly said. We don't need to get all excited each time it snows!" my teacher want-to-be jumped in on the action to remind the kids what I had said days before when it snowed the first time. What I had actually said was, it's exciting to see snow fall for the first time of the year, but let's not get hung up on it for twenty minutes jumping up and down pointing at each individual flake - let's take it in and move on. Which is what I was attempting to do with the metric system - unsuccessfully.

After the go-ahead finger point, head nod by my little room-mom of a student and the room settled back down to a dull buzz, I noticed a kid in the back of the room waving his arm in the air as if he were about to burst. A good question or answer is like helium for the hand in a classroom; the better the question or answer, the higher the hand goes,.. literally raising students out of their chair - I've seen it with my own eyes several times. "Yes, what is it?"

"Mr. Kelly, I got it! They are making popcorn to celebrate the snow!!" And there it was,... the double whammy. The mention of popcorn and snow all in one sentence - the class was gone!

Give a Little .... at a time

"What do you mean we're out of money? I still have shopping to do."

Has this conversation happened in your house yet?

It never fails that no matter how much I save and plan for Christmas gifts, I never seem to have enough to go around. It gets worse each year. I've concluded that in my choice of presents going from Fisher-Price tractors to Uber-Electronics, there's just not enough to cover more than one gift per child. But you can't just have one gift under the tree, can you? Of course not! You can't go from the toddler child who use to get about 50 different toys because they each cost a mere $2, to one gift. Half of the fun on Christmas morning is watching the kids open their presents.

That's why, this year I've decided to take apart the one electronic gift and spread them out over several boxes and gift wrappings. I'm figuring upwards of twenty boxes should do the trick. When they are completely done unwrapping each gift-box, they can then begin building the one device back into a whole working unit of electronic wonderment! Sound crazy? I think not - you just have to be sure to get the warranty.

Lit Up

"Do either of you smoke?" asked our waitress.

Seemed like a strange question as we sat in the Irish Pub in Holland, having a celebratory late night snack, due to Kim wrapping up another master's class. "No we don't."

"Well,.. I thought I should ask because in about ten minutes this whole place goes from smokeless to smoking," as her words hung in the air, I tried to recall state laws.

Before I could grasp the slightest jurisprudence thought rattling in my brain, a gal walked by our table carrying two packs of cigarettes in each hand. I found it odd that she was taking her smoking to such a serious level. As I turned around to view the rest of the room to see if anyone else was preparing to vacate as fast as we were, I glanced at the tab

le directly behind me and the guys who had been chatting over a couple pints were now flicking lighters, as two packs of cigarettes sat in front of them. Moments later, a waitress careened through room between the tables doling out ash trays like a blackjack dealer in a casino. It was as if a switch had flipped and we were just waiting to hear the voice of Rod Sterling drift through the air, Your next stop ... the Twilight Zone.

"People must REALLY be intense with smoking around here," I threw out my observation to the waitress.

"Oh no," she said, "if you did smoke you could get two packs of cigarettes for free by just letting them scan your ID. It's a promotional thing every week."

All For 10 Minutes

It was suppose to be a simple planning trip that went down a long, winding road leading to the money pit of doom. Let me expound...

"Hey, let's head out to the fireplace shop today and look over our choices so I can get started on the framing portion," I have always wanted to add a fireplace in the living room,... something to place my television over while I watch Sunday Football - something about that set up is comforting for us men.

"Okay, but I need to work on my school work for a little bit before we go." Little did I know that those words would end up changing the next two days.

I like to have a project going and one in the talking phase,.. and one in my mind to spring on Kim for whenever we find down time and need to DO something. For now the project is the living room / fireplace followed by the dreams, hopes, misguided delusions of redoing the kitchen down the road.

I knew looking at fireplaces and talking specs wasn't going to be the most thrilling part of Kim's day, so I closed the fireplace conversation with, "While we're out, let's swing by Lowes and get some ideas for the kitchen. I'll even measure the kitchen so we can have some plans drawn up." What was I thinking?! While we're out,... measure the kitchen,... plans!?!?!?!?! I was out alright,... out of my mind. Why don't I just dangle my arms over a boat in front of a group of hungry, angry alligators and see if they'll bite.

After Kim wrapped up her school paper, she was more than ready to get out of the house and away from any and all desk work. As we drove to the store, we discussed what we wanted in a fire place: the design, function, and more design. Pretty much it was more of me explaining my vision of how I thought it would look when I finished building the whole mantle / shelving,.. and Kim quietly thinking to herself: Boy, I hope he doesn't mess this up!

Pulling into the parking lot, something seemed strange. Like there was no sign of life in the store, around the store, or within 500 feet of the store. We did the s l o w w a l k up to the door, looking for the 'hours of operation'. "Darn it! Missed it by ten minutes!" ten minutes

"Maybe they're still around," Kim was being optimistic.

"Not on a Saturday. These guys were probably sitting in their cars at 2 waiting to pull out (the sign had business hours 'open until 2 PM' - my watch read 2:10) and start their weekend," I was like a kid who rips through every wrapped gift under the tree in hopes of that one special present,... slightly let down. "Let's head to Lowes."

"What's the cut off point?" We had finished our visit with the cabinet guy and were heading home.

"What do you mean, cut off point?" Kim was more than excited to see what the kitchen would look like with new cabinets. After listening to what we wanted and going over the space we had, the cabinet guy told us that it would be a few days before he could have a drawing put together for us to come back and take a look at. This move is similar to going from bean bags in your living room to actual furniture. You can be comfortable in both, yet one simply feels like a vast improvement towards adulthood.

"I can sense you desperately want the new kitchen and I'm willing to put off the living room project, but it needs to be within some kind of budget. So, what's the dollar point where we say no to the kitchen and I go back to my original plan?"

Kim was quick with a response, "Let's see what he says first."

One Day Goes By and the phone rings with a the caller ID showing LOWES.

"I'm done with the drawings, so whenever you have time,...." it took seconds to process this answer.

"We'll be in today."

I couldn't help but let out a chuckle as we left the store with drawings in hand. Sixteen thousand dollars and some change for cabinets. No pulls, no counter top, no new appliances,... just cabinets. I figured it was well beyond the point of our cut off. "Well, that does it. Back to Plan A - the fire place."

"What do you mean?" Kim seemed puzzled by my dismissal of a new kitchen. "Did you see what it's going to look like? Did you see how much space we're going to have compared to what we have now!? You're the money man,... you can figure a way!" With that bit of encouragement, we are moving forward with our fireplace.

So what's the lessons to be learned by this little endeavor? Don't be 10 minutes late and don't entice your wife with home improvement projects you can't back with money.