Clear and calm

After all of the craziness of the last couple months, it’s been a strangely quiet, stress-free and productive weekend. We’ve watched the Olympics. We’ve enjoyed the outdoors. Participated in a math contest. Cheered on our home team. The girls have been in super-pretend and play mode and getting along swimmingly. And I’ve caught up on a ton of work.

Maybe putting so much on hold the last couple weeks as Kates battled the flu actually helped distract me to a point that cleared my mind enough to fuel this burst of energy and inspiration. I also might be channeling my mother, who – besides being a source of inspiration for my writing since I was 8 years old – seems to have experienced her own burst of energy lately and, despite the limits of her MS and recent foot surgery, has shared more stories and dispatched more emails to my brother and I in the last two months than she did in the last two years.

It also doesn't hurt that we're having spring-like weather this weekend. The snow is gone – for now –and the temperatures are in the 50s, allowing Kates and Faye to play in the backyard yesterday. Phoebe and I took a bike ride this afternoon.

* * *

We’re at the midway point of the Olympics, and the boredom is setting in. Maybe it’s the fact that the U.S. athletes have been seemingly overrated and underwhelming this year.

Which is largely NBC’s doing, leaving us at the mercy to watch the athletes and events they deem important during primetime. I’ve seen enough of the incredibly hyped Nathan Chen and slalom during the last week to last me the next four years, thank you very much.

I, too, fell for NBC’s dirty depiction on Friday night of Austria's Anna Veith winning the women's super-G – only to read the news Saturday morning that Ester Ledecka of the Czech Republic won the event and think, ‘Wait a minute, that’s not the way I saw it last night.’ It seems like that’s happened more times during this Olympics than I can remember it happening any other time.

This from the Associated Press …

Instead of laughing off or owning up to making a wrong call the night before in the women's super-G, NBC's ski announcers seemed intent on justifying themselves Saturday night. In that Alpine race, little-known Ester Ledecka of the Czech Republic stunned everyone by edging Austria's Anna Veith for the gold medal. Ledecka, ranked No. 43 in the world, was considered to have so little chance that NBC's Dan Hicks declared Veith the winner and NBC switched away as if the race was over. But it wasn't. Returning to the subject a night later, Bode Miller declared that "in everyone's opinion, the race was over. It was one of the most incredible upsets I've seen in any sport." Hicks noted that even Ledecka couldn't believe she had won. "Neither could we," he said. Under the circumstances, producers had made a reasonable call to move on to a compelling figure-skating competition. But it was still wrong for Hicks to have expressed certainty that the race was over, and the way he and Miller revisited it Saturday only served to annoy viewers who had missed the miracle on snow.

So last night, Kates and I tuned out and watched “Temple Grandin” so she could see the story that I've been raving about for herself.

* * *

Yesterday was the regional math contest, and Phoebe was one of the five kids in her grade who were selected to compete and represent her school. Kates and I couldn’t have been prouder of her when she came home with the letter notifying us of her selection a few weeks ago.

Although, Kates – who happens to be Phoebe’s math teacher this year – knew Phoebe had been selected. In fact, Kates annually coaches the team, so it was shaping up to be a special time for them to share that experience together.

Then, Kates got sick. Another teacher took over the practice sessions with the students in her absence. And a few days ago, realizing she wasn’t going to be well enough to accompany the kids to the contest, she asked the other teacher to take her place at the contest. Kates was crushed.

So, instead, I woke up early with Phoebe yesterday morning and drove her the 15 minutes down the road to the high school in the northeast corner of the county for the contest. Phoebe was nervous, and I was anxious for her. My heart sunk as we parked the car and Kates texted me to inform me that Phoebe had forgotten her calculator and No. 2 pencils on the kitchen table. A moment later, we met the fill-in coach in the parking lot. Without prompting, he told Phoebe he had extra calculators and pencils if she needed them. Phew.

Inside, I helped Phoebe check in and she went on her way with the rest of her team while I joined other parents to wait out the morning in the school gym. … I saw her again a couple hours later when they got a break and we went to the concession stand for a snack. Then, she found me around noon once the contest had finished. Some volunteers were serving up pizza and hot dogs in the lunchroom, so Phoebe and I took advantage of that.

Then we waited in the school gym for the judges to announce the scores. And we waited. And waited and waited. The schedule indicated the award winners would be announced between 1 and 1:30 p.m. By 2, there had been no indication an announcement was close nor any reason given for the delay, and the kids – and adults – were getting restless. Finally, a few minutes after 2, the contest coordinator appeared and announced that the judges were having trouble uploading the scores to their computer system. They didn’t know when the issue would be fixed, so the best course was to dismiss everyone and send the awards to the individual schools and students.

With little time to spare, Phoebe and I drove back to The ‘Ville and headed straight for the basketball arena to take in the ‘Cats final regular season home game. They were playing the Lions – the only team to beat them during last year’s championship run and the team that handed them their first of just two losses this season. Needless to say, going back to the days when I was a student on the campus, they’ve always been a team that’s given us trouble, and they’re a big rival on the basketball court.

We had a 49-game home win streak and a win yesterday would have guaranteed our fifth straight conference championship.

The game lived up to the hype, and it was a war. Our team got off to a good start and grabbed an early lead by several points, but the Lions clawed back. We found ourselves down by about 10 at halftime and got back into the game in the second half. Our star point guard, who’s been slowed by a foot injury this year, showed some glimmers of the national player of the year he was last year late the game – and even nailed a long three-pointer with a couple seconds left to get the ‘Cats within a point of the lead. But an errant in-bound pass on their ensuing offensive possession sealed it for the opponent and we lost a heartbreaker, 73-70.

Happy Valentine's Day.

Forget everything I wrote Sunday about Kates recovering from her bout with the flu.

She thought she was good to go Sunday night and returned to teaching on Monday. She even completed a full day. … But when she visited the doctor’s office after school on Monday afternoon, the doc said she wasn’t out of the woods yet and needed at least three more days of rest.

So I sprang back into overdrive Monday night, picking up the girls from school, getting them fed and taking them to their gymnastics classes.

Yesterday, Kates stayed home from school as the doctor ordered. I went to work – where four members of my 10-person staff were already sick at home, and a fifth went home by lunch time. “Dang, we’re going to have to fumigate the office,” one my colleagues said when I informed him of the fifth one to go on the disabled list.

By the time I arrived home with the girls – and Sonic, because Daddy doesn’t cook – Kates was feeling worse. She laid on the couch with us in the living room while we watched the Olympics – the pairs skating and Shaun White killing it on the snowboard. … But later, as she was heading to our bedroom to go to sleep, she was so light-headed and weak, she nearly fainted in the hallway. It was cause for concern for sure, and tears were shed because we're now on day nine of this. I immediately concluded I needed to stay home with her today, to make sure she was ok and got back to the doctor if she needed.

So today – Valentine’s Day – we woke. I got the girls to school and returned home for the day to nurse Kates. She regained some of her energy. And as far as returning to the doctor, she called in to the office and the nurse said she just needs to let the virus run its course. Great. … She stayed in bed all day while I worked from our kitchen table and refilled her water cup whenever she texted me with a request to do so.

During the noon hour, I headed out to run some errands. In all of the chaos around our house, Kates hadn’t done anything for the girls for Valentine’s Day. So I headed to Walmart to find a pair of cards for them and – per our Valentine’s Day tradition – a Bearcat shirt for each of them that pronounces their love for the team in a literal form. I succeeded, finding a shirt for Faye that has a green heart with the word Bearcats emblazoned inside the heart and a shirt for Phoebe that reads “Everyone loves a Northwest girl.”

Without Kates knowing, I also ordered a heart-shaped pizza from Pizza Hut and scheduled it for pickup around 5 when I would be picking up the girls from school.

Back home this afternoon, I continued working … and then news broke of another school shooting. This time in Florida. 17 dead. I was glued to the NBC coverage as the news unfolded from about 2:30 until I had to leave to get the girls. And The Onion is again running its now-infamous headline.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Sick of winter

Well, it’s been a week.

Kates had a professional development day Monday, so the girls didn’t have school and I stayed home with them. But she came home early that afternoon because she wasn’t feeling well. She promptly crawled into bed and wasn’t the same the rest of the week.

Without an official diagnosis, the only reasonable conclusion is she caught the flu. Besides feeling achy and lacking any energy whatsoever, she had a terrible cough and her nose was running off her face.

After missing school Tuesday and Wednesday, she tried to return to school on Thursday for a half day but regretted that and took another full day on Friday. Today, we chose to sleep in and skip church, and it’s only this morning that she’s showing signs of getting back to normal.

Fortunately, the rest of us have been spared. All of us got our flu shots last fall, but Kates still caught it. It’s been a scary flu season with dozens of children dying, and I’m grateful it wasn’t worse for us.

But it sure felt like I was running our house as a single parent this past week. I took the girls to school every morning except for Thursday, and I picked them up from school every night – enjoying their babbling and elementary school gossip from the backseat throughout the ride. I took them to Subway for lunch on Monday, to Sonic for supper on Tuesday and to Kentucky Fried Chicken for supper on Thursday – because Daddy doesn’t cook.

Our church hosts a community dinner on Wednesday nights before their youth activities – to which Kates usually takes the girls while I stay in my office and work, but I took them this week. The night’s meal was chicken with mashed potatoes, gravy and vegetables, and it was delicious.

I also took both girls to their gymnastic classes on Monday night and Phoebe to her guitar lesson on Thursday. And in between I was trying to navigate my work week, doing whatever cleaning needed to be done around the house, making sure the girls were bathed and in bed at a decent time. And sleeping on the couch to avoid inheriting the bug from Kates.

It doesn't help, either, that the weather is frigid. Yesterday, the high temperature topped out around 10 degrees and we got another couple inches of snow.

Is it spring yet?

Lost time

I got another reminder this weekend that life is a precious thing, never to be taken for granted.

It had been a nice weekend. After arriving home Friday from school and work, we ate supper, and the girls wanted to continue our “Cosby Show” marathon. We finally made it to the show’s eighth and final season. And we let the girls stay up later than normal, watching at least a half-dozen episodes past 10 o’clock – though Kates and I found ourselves dozing on our couches for most of them. … 

Then, after getting the girls to bed – and with some light-energy, thanks to our light napping – Kates and I retreated to the den to continue our “Outlander” marathon, which lasted until about 2 a.m. ... I have a love-hate relationship with the show because it's extremely gory and graphic – which is not at all my kind of entertainment – and I just want Claire to get off the island already. But the story-telling is compelling enough that it holds my interest, and it's something to do with Kates, who loves the novels.

Saturday morning, the girls had us up around 9. Eventually, I retreated to the den to work on projects and watch the Chiefs-Titans playoff game …

The Chiefs are known for rolling through the regular season only to fail spectacularly in the playoffs. That didn’t change Saturday when Kansas City dropped a 22-21 heartbreaker to the Titans. 

The Chiefs have won just one playoff game since the 1994 season, and they haven’t won a single playoff game at home in that span. Saturday was the team’s fifth home playoff loss in a row, dropping the Chiefs’ postseason record to 2-6 all-time in Arrowhead Stadium.

That was something. The Chiefs looked so efficient and unstoppable during the first half, taking a 21-3 lead, that the analysts were talking Super Bowl – and I believed them. But there was another part of me that knew the Chiefs’ playoff history all too well and thought, They’re totally going to blow this lead. … Sure enough, they did.

Kates and I watched more “Outlander” Saturday night and headed to bed shortly after midnight. Little did I know, I’d be awake again within a couple hours …

*     *     *

A little after 2 a.m., I awoke thinking I’d just heard my phone ding with a text message. It took me a few moments to compose myself in my stupor and I turned over my phone look at the screen. A student had been reported dead. Assuming no foul play or natural causes, I sighed and tried to get a little more sleep, figuring our team would gather for a briefing when daylight broke.

Several minutes later, my phone rang and I knew then that it was going to be more serious. But I never could have expected the news I got when I answered the call. A car had crashed into one of the downtown bars. A student who was inside the bar was killed by the impact.

Our emergency team gathered at at 4 a.m. to begin sorting out the facts and crafting the communication to our campus. It’s never easy when a student dies, but this case was out of the ordinary. The worst case we’ve had to deal with in a few years.

The more we learned about the girl, the harder it was to swallow. She was 19 and one of our education majors. She was active in her sorority. She was well-liked by her classmates, instructors and supervisors. By all accounts, she was a driven, confident person with a beautiful soul. She was going to be successful teacher and impact a lot of lives along the way.

The young man who was behind the wheel of the vehicle that crashed into the bar and killed her was driving drunk. His blood alcohol level was far over the legal limit.

Once our tasks were complete for the time-being, I drove home, trying to comprehend the last few hours. Now I was awake and wouldn’t be returning to bed – at least for a while. So I pulled into the garage and slipped down to my den to work until the rest of the house awoke.

I lasted for about an hour and a half before I found myself struggling to keep my eyes open. When I stepped into our bedroom, I spotted Faye snuggled next to Kates, and Kates had her armed wrapped around Faye. They looked so content and peaceful. And innocent. My heart melted and I slipped into bed with them, grateful. And praying that Kates and I may never experience the horror of losing either of our girls too early.

A description of me

I took one of those personality quizzes on Facebook tonight, and this may be one of the most accurate descriptions yet of my life and my whirlwind of emotions these days ...

If anyone could make broken look beautiful, it is him. His strength is what keeps him going. He has a hurricane of chaos around him, but he is so damn passionate that he handles it. He loves life with all his heart and it loves him right back.

Saturday morning reading

It’s Saturday morning.

Kates is in bed, trying to bat away a head cold that’s plagued her the last few days.

Faye was up, as usual, at the crack of dawn – preventing me from getting a head start on the day and trying to accomplish some things before the rest of the house awoke. Now she’s cozied up in a chair, watching her Saturday morning Disney cartoons. “My Friends Tigger & Pooh.” “PJ Masks.” “Mickey and the Roadster Racers.”

Phoebe is still sleeping, recovering from a night of bowling with the families of my office colleagues. The big drama in her world last night was that, in the three games we bowled, she failed to get a strike.

I am sitting at our dining room table, basking in the sunlight – the cats are doing the same in their lounge areas beside me – and reveling in the fact that temperatures are going to approach a high of 70 degrees today.

I’m also loving The New York Times’ political coverage these days, particularly its commentary about the new administration.

Today’s revelations …

Tom Brokaw was asked in 1969 to be President Nixon’s press secretary.

A PBS station in San Antonio censored a commentary addressing the Republican themes of stifling mainstream media, only to realize its mistake and let the commentary piece air later.

The longtime friendship of Jorge Pérez and Donald Trump is now cold as a result of the administration’s controversial policies and rhetoric.

Kellyanne Conway. Nothing more to say on that topic.

And from the amazing Gail Collins, James Buchanan’s days as the worst president in American history may be numbered. (Newsweek has a story about the presidential survey, in which Obama fell just short of the top 10 in his first appearance in the ballot. Sigh.)

I know some of you are worried that the president is losing his mind. Perhaps you think that he’s depressed over the fact that his first four weeks in power have been marked by a disastrous attempt at immigration control, the axing of the national security adviser, the ignominious retreat of a nominee for labor secretary and a failed military raid in Yemen.

No. “I don’t think there’s ever been a president elected who in this short period of time has done what we’ve done,” Trump said at his press conference. Remember, this is not a man who does self-deprecating irony.

Oh, and the 25th Amendment may be a thing.

Time for me to get outside.

And now we have a kitten

It was a dark and stormy night.

And at 12:15 a.m. today, Kit Kat became a momma.

Things started happening yesterday evening after Kates and Leah arrived home from an afternoon at the spa. We had pizza for supper and played outside for a while.

When we returned inside and started getting the girls for ready for bed, we noticed Kit Kat fussing about something. She had enough food and water. She didn’t show much interest in playing. She was pacing around the living room. Something was bothering her.

I did some Internet research and found this article. Kit Kat was showing all the behaviors, and I told Kates I thought we were pretty close to something happening.

At about 9:30, Kit Kat was in the upstairs bedroom pacing outside Phoebe’s bedroom, so I went to bring her back to the living room. As I reached under her belly to pick her up, I felt a drop of blood on my finger.

It was go time.

I led her the rest of the way to her nest in the garage, and Kates and Leah followed to be with her.

Kates was awesome through it all. While I returned to the living room to watch a Crosby, Stills and Nash concert on TV, Kates was committed to staying in the garage and keeping Kit Kat company. Leah stayed with them until turning in for bed around 11:30.

At 11: 55, Kates texted me to come out and relieve her while she took a bathroom break. Kit Kat was burrowed in her nest behind the blanket-towel-sweatshirt bedding we laid out for her. She was breathing heavy and pushing, and it was obvious it wouldn’t be long.

After a few minutes, Kates returned to the garage, and I returned to the living room.

Several minutes later, a hair-raising yowl came from the garage and I bolted there to see what was happening. Kates was sitting next to Kit Kat, who appeared as calm as could be under the circumstances. Simply, she was working through the process.

Bemused by what was happening and the shattering of my No Pet Doctrine in a matter of weeks, I just laughed and said to Kates, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Eventually, I headed back inside again. There were three or four more yowls over the next several minutes. Then, at 12:15 a.m., came this text from Kates …

When I got into the garage, Kit Kat was busy cleaning the newborn, which appeared to be in good health and softly meowing. Everything progressed the way God intended it, and it was pretty amazing.

Then, after a while I headed back inside while Kates stayed in the garage to keep an eye on the cats and wait for any others to be born. In the meantime, the thunderstorm we’d been anticipating all day had finally kicked up. Bright lightning flashed and the thunder crashed loudly outside.

I figured Faye and Phoebe would be up at any moment. Faye came down first, rubbing her eyes and clutching her stuffed pink bear. After a failed attempt to get her back to bed, she ended up falling asleep in my arms on the living room couch. Phoebe appeared a bit later and resisted going back to sleep, too. … So it provided an opportunity to show them the new kitten, but they were too worried about the storm and sleepy to show much interest. Finally, I convinced them to take care of each other and sleep in Kates’ and my bed together. That worked and they went back to sleep.

Back in the garage, Kates was still waiting for another kitten or two. Our research suggested we could expect two or three kittens, but by 2 a.m., Kit Kat wasn’t showing signs of giving birth to another any time soon. So Kates gave in, and we headed to bed.

This morning, we awoke around 7, and still had just one kitten. The kitten appears to be nursing well and Kit Kat is proving to be an excellent mother, protecting the kitten in her nest and keeping it warm.

It’s a little funny how, all of a sudden, my research and Pinterest scans have turned from cat tips to raising a newborn kitten. It turns out that one kitten, while not common, is not extremely rare for a cat of Kit Kat’s age and a first pregnancy.

After we got the girls to bed tonight, Kates and I finally were able to get a closer look at the kitten, which we now know is a male. He barely covers the palm of my hand and has beautiful orange and black striped hair. Seriously, he looks like a chipmunk.

We haven’t named him yet, and want to run some options by the girls. Some of the frontrunners include Butterfinger – because, Kit Kat – and Daniel Tiger, which would be a tribute to the resemblance with his stripes – not to mention Faye, who idolizes Daniel Tiger and watched a Daniel Tiger videos on my iPhone while I put her to bed tonight. Other options are Tiger or Tigger.

Stay tuned.

Kit Kat's back!

Well, Kit Kat returned to us after her little altercation. And she’s part of our family now, in a big way.

To recap the last couple weeks, we saw not a hint of Kit Kat – who, we now know, is between 10-12 months old – for about 24 hours after the epic fight with Blondie. Weirdly, a couple hours after the fight, Blondie returned to our yard and took a position in the middle or our yard – but a much larger, much fluffier version of Kit Kat, almost like a future version of her, showed up, too. This other cat came right up to the screen door to our deck and circled Kit Kat’s food bowl and bed. This other cat’s mannerisms were so similar to Kit Kat that initially we did mistake it for her.

Kates and I went to bed that night mystified about what happened to Kit Kat and where the third cat came from. We haven’t seen Blondie or the third cat since. So I like to think that maybe Kit Kat actually did win the fight and Blondie gave up on trying to take our yard.

Well, the night after that fight, Faye and I were playing outside when we thought we caught a glimpse of Kit Kat peeking into the yard from behind our shed. But it was hard for me to tell from across the yard if it really was Kit Kat or the fatter, fluffier lookalike we saw the night before. And Faye tried to chase her down and scared her away before I could try to get to her myself.

After we put the girls to bed, though, Kit Kat finally appeared back to her spot on our deck. I was washing dishes, while Kates was near the screen door and heard her meow. We were elated and immediately checked her for any injuries. She was fine, and now with a litter box and all of our necessary cat supplies on hand – and another storm brewing that night – we immediately made the decision to move her home into the protection of our garage.

And that brings us up to the news of the day: Kit Kat’s going to be a mother. We’re having kittens.

So my No Pets doctrine has been obliterated. In a matter of weeks, we’ve gone from no pets, to adopting a kitten, to a cat who’s having kittens.

We found a local vet on the recommendation of some of my colleagues and took her in on that Saturday morning after moving her into our garage, determined to get things – a spaying – settled once and for all.

Her check-up went as well as we had hoped … except for the vet’s hunch about the kittens. Doc left open the slight possibility that it was worms, gave us some medicine and told us to come back today to check her out again.

Yep. She’s having babies. Confirmed. Check. Didn’t get her to the vet fast enough to prevent our worst imaginings. Good ‘ol nature.

Doc says we have about three weeks.

It’s all good, though. Really. We are in a good place now as a family. Financially secure with a good home, and the girls are grown enough. Kit Kat’s disposition is sweet and she is about as perfect as a cat as I’ve ever imagined. The time is right and I’m totally comfortable with this turn of events.

So we have a cat

So we’ve adopted a kitten. Sort of.

More like she adopted us. As least we’re pretty sure it’s a she.

We’ve named her Kit Kat.

It began Saturday evening while Phoebe and I were outside and playing a game of Frisbee – one of her new favorite pastimes. 

I heard what sounded like crying coming from a bush alongside our shed. I turned toward the bush to try to figure out what was making the sound.

Then, after a couple minutes, a small gray kitten peered out from under the bush. She came out a few feet and then retreated to the bush. She was meowing non-stop, seemingly desperate for some attention and care. She had no collar and we have no idea where she came from.

This went on for several minutes as Phoebe and I stood at our fence watching her. She wouldn’t come too close to us, and after a while we headed inside and went on with our night.

Last night, we headed outside to play again and she appeared almost immediately, coming from the opposite side of our yard. Quickly, she was walking alongside us, brushing up against our legs and prancing from one side of the yard to the other while we threw the Frisbee.

She was extremely skinny and obviously hungry. So Kates and I broke down and gave her a couple slices of ham and cheese, which she wasted little time eating.

The girls had taken to her, and she seemed to be relishing our company.

Finally, though, it was time for us to go inside. But the bond had been formed, and the kitten sat perched on our deck while Kates and I prepared for the start of our work week.

Oh, and Kates made a run to the grocery store and returned with cat food. Stuff was getting real.

This morning, Kates opened a bathroom window and noticed she was still on our deck. We all got ready for school, left the house and went on with our days – though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about her throughout the day.

So tonight, I came home from work and arrived in the house to find the inside quiet but the door to the deck open, and I knew. I found Kates and the girls in the yard with Kit Kat, who was dining on a bowl of the food Kates bought last night.

For the second night in a row, she walked alongside us, around and in between the legs of the girls like an old friend while they played in the yard. … And when we brought our supper to the deck for an outdoor dinner – despite our attempts to block entry points with baby gates – she found her way to our table and paced around the deck while we ate.

After we had the girls in bed, Kates and I met in the living room – and there was Kit Kat outside our deck door, meowing to beat the band. Begging for attention, or to come inside the house …

We’re holding strong on keeping her outside. But with a storm brewing tonight we retrieved a plastic tub from our basement and outfitted it with a blanket and an old sweatshirt for her. As the storm came in, she took to it and curled up inside.

We’ll see what tomorrow brings. But it looks like she’s here to stay … for at least a little while.

Math from the past

So Phoebe is developing an interest in reading and doing it at a level that's outpacing her peers. It's great and a little astonishing for Kates and I to watch. We're proud parents.

Of course, we want to foster that interest. After a conversation about it with Kates and Phoebe the other night, I decided last night it was finally appropriate to unpack a box I had stored away of my childhood books and some toys. Classics like "Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing" and "Superfudge." Beverly Cleary books and The Boxcar Children. Some history books, too, about some of my favorite subjects - Abraham Lincoln, Titanic and Jackie Robinson.

Phoebe proudly collected a stack that interested her. And I made sure she included the classics. 

There were other highlights within the time capsule. I gave an ALF puppet to Faye and told the girls they needed to share my stuffed Popple. Phoebe also got a kick out of putting together a 3D puzzle I had in the shape of a clear plastic cube.

I showed them my collection of Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars and California Raisins figurines. Despite their pleas, I'm not giving up those yet.

But here's the best part. Tucked in the shoebox with the California Raisins and the 3D puzzle was my Texas Instruments "Little Professor" calculator. 

A Christmas present when I was maybe 6, I spent a lot of time solving math problems on that calculator, reveling when it lit up because I'd answered the problem correctly and taking pride in progressing through the levels. Like the books, I had been looking forward in recent months to passing it down to Phoebe. 

At first it didn't appear meant to be. When I placed new batteries in the calculator and pressed the on button, I got a scrambled screen and no response from pushing the buttons.

After a few minutes of recalling my memories of the toy to Kates and still not getting it to work, I was resigned to tossing it in the trash.

Then Phoebe took it from my hands, started pressing the buttons and it began to work.

"Needed a kid's touch," Kates said.

Phoebe proceeded to play with it until I had to yank it from her hand because it was her bedtime. But I was filled with pride that she had taken such an interest in it. She tucked it away in the drawer of her nightstand to be played again later.

I posted the photo below on Facebook, and friends of my age shared similar sentiments and memories.

I wanted one of those so badly!

Whoa, flashback! I had forgotten my love for that thing! 

I remember those! It's been a long time!

Wow, blast from the past! I loved this game!!  

I had no clue it had been such a popular toy in its day.

Rough week

I was dressing Faye after her bath last night when she whined, "Daddy, I'm tired. It's been a rough week."

You said it kid.

It's been a rough two weeks really. I'm still dealing with the campus crisis that nearly ruined my enjoyment of Game 5.

A couple Thursdays ago Faye was playing on the school playground. One of her classmates was swinging on the swingset. Faye walked in front of the swingset and got clobbered by her swinging classmate. Faye was smacked in the mouth and the impact pushed up her top two front teeth so the bottom tips were barely visible underneath her gums, temporarily changing the landscape of her beautiful toddler smile.

We kept ice packs and ice on it through the evening. The next morning, we awoke to find Faye's mouth bloodied and badly swollen. Without skipping a beat, Kates decided she was staying home with Faye for the day and took her to be checked out by the dentist. Thankfully, the dentist saw no permanent damage, but he also indicated it might get worse before it gets better. 

Which it did. Faye's mouth continued swelling through the weekend that by Sunday evening she resembled a duck-billed platypus. Kates ultimately took Faye to the clinic that night. The doctor declared Faye had acquired an infection, which apparently is common with mouth injuries, and prescribed an antibiotic for her. ... The antibiotic had an immediate impact. Faye's teeth have almost returned to their normal position and her swelling is nearly gone.

Nonetheless, we enjoyed the weekend and nursed Faye as best we could. The highlight was Friday night when Kates headed out to help a friend who was in need of some childcare assistance while her husband was away. In the meantime, I stayed home with Phoebe and Faye and built the coolest fort they'd ever seen with our couch, a couple desk hi-chairs and some blankets. We got cozy inside the fort and watched a DVD collection of short films based on children's books. It was great.

Bring on Monday. I was home with the girls again because the elementary school had a staff development day. We played and colored, but I couldn't keep myself from getting sucked into the drama playing out on social media as leaders of the University of Missouri system resigned amid protests and accusations that they hadn't done enough to promote racial equity and inclusion on the campus. I had a feeling then that we were going to feel it on our campus, too.

Wednesday morning I got out of the shower to find a text from our university president informing me that threats were popping up on social media and we needed to notify our students and employees. We did that, and by the noon hour I was taking a phone call from our university police chief to inform me an arrest was made and peppering him with questions to gather the information I needed for a news release.

Within hours our campus was making national headlines. And for about two hours that evening my phone did not stop ringing. The phone rang. I picked it up. Answered the reporter's questions. Hung up. My phone rang again. ... Eventually, reporters starting emailing me, saying my phone was busy so they were trying to reach me via email instead.

Around 7 Wednesday night, I broke away from my office to pick up the girls from their church activities. After I got them home, more phone calls and emails from New York media. Google alerts were coming in and I found myself quoted in a USA Today story. ... Kates arrived home shortly after 8 and I told her I was surprised I hadn't heard from The New York Times. Yep, a Times reporter called while I was putting Phoebe to bed.

Things began quieting a bit on the media front yesterday afternoon. But the impact of the ordeal on our campus is far from over ...

Last night, Paris was attacked. I had been in meetings nearly all day Friday and was exhausted from the week's events. As it turned out, though, I couldn't find a time to sneak out of my office and followed the reports of the unfolding attacks in real time on social media. Around 6 I headed home and the girls wouldn't arrive for another half hour or so, which gave me time to turn on the TV and digest the updates. ... It was horrific and continues to distract my thoughts this weekend. The attacks occurred at places any couple in any city like Kates and I might frequent. On the streets, at restaurants, at a concert hall. How do we end all this terror? How far will it go?

Yes, it's been a rough week, Faye. And I hope the world is a better place when you're my age. Life does get tiring, but rest up -- tomorrow's a new day.

World Series off night trick-or-treating

We spent our off night of the World Series trick-or-treating tonight. Although, we almost didn’t get out the door.

Tonight was the night we’ve looked forward to for the last few Octobers. On the Thursday night before Halloween, The ‘Ville’s downtown businesses host a downtown trick-or-treat and the campus residence halls open their doors to let children knock on students’ hall doors for candy.

I arrived home from work ahead of 5 p.m., ready to meet the girls and head downtown. But they didn’t walk through the door until after 5:30 p.m. And saying they were a little crabby is an understatement.

Phoebe was in the most foul mood of all and wanted no part of putting on the fairy costume her Grandma S made for her. Many tears and kicking ensued, stoking memories of the infamous Homecoming Day meltdown years ago.

I tried to negotiate, pitching the idea of going to the Student Union for dinner. But Phoebe still refused to wear her costume.

Phoebe and I went for another round while Kates and Faye boarded the car in the garage. Finally I got her to go if I allowed her take one of her teddy bears. And I swiped her costume from the kitchen table on our way to the door, telling Phoebe I was bringing it in case she changed her mind.

So we skipped the downtown trick-or-treating and finally arrived at the Student Union to eat around 6:20. There, the girls continued to bicker and whine – which further frustrated Kates and I who barely ate anything. And we had gone to the all-you-care-to-eat dining area, so we hardly got our money’s worth.

And then, as we walked to the car, Phoebe had a change of heart. The clouds parted, a rainbow broke through, and suddenly she wanted to put on her costume to go trick-or-treating.

We got the picture of the girls together in their Fairy dresses. They filled their Halloween baskets with candy. Erase the hour or so between the time they arrived home from school and the time we exited the Student Union and we had a really great time.

*     *     *

In the meantime, us Royals fans are still feeling pretty good about our 2-0 lead and anxiously awaiting tomorrow night’s Game 3. We’re a fanbase caught between the impossible and entirely possible.

When the World Series comes to town, everyone talks about baseball. Everyone wears baseball on their shirts, baseball in their eyes. They sit next to you, waiting for you to bring up baseball, unless they snap and bring baseball up first. On the flight into the city, there are announcements about baseball. Driving into the city, there are baseball billboards, baseball banners, electronic traffic signs that end with messages about baseball. The walls of the city are festooned with baseball. The people are mad about baseball. Everything is baseball.

It's a living, delightfully suffocating experience. The deeper you dig, the more you realize there's nothing like it. It shows up unexpectedly where you live. It's about you. It's about the people around you. It's about where you live, happening right there. It's unambiguously good. It's all anyone can talk about, unless they're talking about the plans they're making around it.

There's nothing like it. When an entire section of the country can't stop talking about the same thing, it's always a tragedy or awful story. The happy, fun things are shared on social media until the next happy, fun things come along, but they're mostly disposable. There isn't a wellspring of this this this for everyone to enjoy at the same time, all around you, completely unavoidable.

When the World Series comes to town, everyone is sure thinking about the World Series.

The Kansas City Star’s Sam Mellinger notes that in six of the Royals' nine playoff wins, Kansas City has trailed in the fifth inning or later. “It's more than heart.”

This is not a fluke as much as it is the amplification of a season-long trend. The Royals had 41 comeback wins in the regular season. No American League team had more.

Comebacks are stacking on top of comebacks, enough that Royals manager Ned Yost comes up blank when asked his most memorable comeback before last year’s Wild Card Game.

And The Star’s Rustin Dodd writes about how the Royals’ frenzied hitting attack sank Mets ace Jacob deGrom last night.

As Kauffman Stadium pulsates and the cool breeze blows through this old stadium, the Royals’ offense can feel a little like a technically sound prize fighter, quietly dismantling an opponent. There is the consistent jab, the precise touch, the perfectly crafted right hook. Inside the Royals’ clubhouse, they call this display “frenzy hitting,” a never-ending line of hard contact and rattling bats and balls in play. …

If this World Series was supposed to be a referendum on the Mets’ power arms versus the Royals’ hum-drum attack, the early verdict suggests a precision knockout for Kansas City. In two games, the Royals have stared down deGrom and right-hander Matt Harvey, the Mets’ two front-line horses. In two games, the Royals have struck out just four times against Harvey and deGrom while nicking the starters for seven earned runs in 11 innings.

Meanwhile the national analysts are going crazy, overthinking the Royals. I find it funny and annoying. … Baseball is a game with millions of variables. The Royals are winning the game right now. Get over it.

The Kansas City Royals are the sort of team you find yourself trying to come up with excuses for why they just beat you, because you can't make sense of it otherwise. Everybody always thinks they're better than the Royals. Last year, the A's were more versatile, the Angels had more star power and front-line starting pitching, the Orioles had more home run thunder. Same thing this year: The Astros were younger and more new school (and came closer than anyone to beating Kansas City), the Blue Jays were too strong and too cool and too ready and the Mets, man, those Mets pitchers were just gonna blow them away.

The Royals' postseason record against those teams, after their 7-1 World Series Game 2 win on Wednesday night? 17-4. 17-4!

Game on.

Goodbye Grandma

We laid Grandma H. to rest this past weekend.

For the most part, I help up well last week. I had work and my routine to distract me.

We had been preparing for this day for years, really. Since Grandma had her stroke in January 2012. Her health had been in decline ever since. Still, it was still something of a roller coaster as my parents provided my brother and me with regular updates of her ups and downs.

It was only in recent weeks that it became apparent her body was shutting down and her life was nearing its end. Two Fridays ago, Mom called to let us know Grandma’s death was imminent. She was not eating and her body was showing signs of shutting down. Even then, my mom said, it could be days or weeks before Grandma passed.

But less than 48 hours later, Mom called again – on what was a beautiful Sunday morning – just as I was beginning to get Phoebe and Faye out the door for church. Kates had already gone several minutes earlier, as she does every Sunday morning, to practice with the choir.

Grandma had passed and the plans were in motion to arrange the funeral.

The funeral was Saturday.

Our extended family gathered at the church at 9:30 a.m. to begin to say our goodbyes. … All of the men in the family had worn red ties – in honor of Grandma’s love for cardinals – with hardly any planning. It was only Thursday that Ryan messaged all of us grand kids asking how we planned to dress, and I suggested the red ties. I had no idea all eight of the male kids and grand kids would follow through. It was touching.

I was content not to spend much time around her. Grandma’s poor health in recent years had changed her appearance dramatically. Preferring to remember her during better days, I stood in front of the coffin and looked upon her for only a few moments before moving on and catching Faye twirling around by the back pews of the church.

“Why is she in there?” Faye asked softly as I held her and paced around the sanctuary.

“Because she’s resting,” I answered.

Soon guests began arriving for the visitation. Grandma’s children – my parents, aunts and uncles – stood in the sanctuary nearby the coffin. Us grandchildren were content to stay out in the narthex, conversing and allowing those family and friends who knew us to greet us there.

Some of my favorite images of the day were made then. We reconnected with family friends who we hadn’t seen in years. The Roedls, Vails and Sentis were there, and we reminisced about our childhoods growing up around their homes – sledding on the huge hill below the Roedl’s home, playing the piano at the Vails and baby-sitting with their daughter, cub scouts with the Sentis. I greeted pastor Shermer, too, and it occurred to me later there were four generations of pastors of our home church in attendance.

Kates’ mom arrived to take care of the girls for the afternoon and keep them occupied with Kates and I attended the funeral with the rest of the family.

I hadn’t yet shed a tear for Grandma and figured I’d made peace with her passing long ago as her health declined. Then the funeral service began and the opening hymn was “Hymn of Promise,” which we sang at Grandpa H’s funeral. The memories and emotions began pouring into my mind steadily and then came like a flood I couldn’t hold back. By the end of the hymn, I was sobbing.
Aunt Dana, on my left, patted my leg, and Kates, on my right, held onto my arm as we sat down and I calmed myself.

Emotions got the best of me again when we sang “On Eagle’s Wings,” another sentimental hymn within our family. And especially when Mom delivered a eulogy, during which she described Grandma’s commitment to our family. Let alone all of the family gatherings we were expected to attend, Grandma didn’t miss any of her grandchildren’s activities while we were growing up. All the school concerts and church programs, and I vividly remember her always sitting in a lawn chair under a shade tree across the gravel road from the first base dugout to watch our little league baseball games. Suffice to say, I had more time with Grandma H than any of my other grandparents. … When Mom mentioned our family’s move to Kansas and the impact that had on Grandma, the tears rolled down my cheeks again, triggering the still raw emotions and guilt I carry for my family’s move back to the region almost five years ago now.

Then there was Pastor Jane, a close family friend who led our church through the latter part of my childhood, married Kates and I – and was there the night my grandfather passed very suddenly. I broke down again, knowing the memories she would share. Of Grandpa dying and the hole left in Grandma’s heart – which was mended one day years later when my Uncle Paul found, tucked away under a basement trestle, the Valentine’s Day card Grandpa had purchased for her on the afternoon he died.

I hadn’t shed a tear for Grandma until Saturday. When I did, a dam burst and years – decades – of shuttered feelings pushed out.

The service concluded and my cousins and I took our places as pallbearers. Then we joined the procession to the cemetery and gathered at Grandma’s grave marker where she’ll share Grandpa’s headstone. After a short service there, we returned to our vehicle and headed back to the church for a meal – another tribute to Grandma who was remembered fondly for directing so many meals there.
Our extended family gathered at Uncle Dave’s and Aunt Mary’s for the latter half of the afternoon. The kids had a ball playing and running around the house while the adults sat around upstairs, conversing over a football game. I was exhausted and in a daze.

Saturday night, Kates, the girls and I were back at Mom’s and Dad’s place. We reminisced about Grandma, our moves, and Mom and Dad pulled out a box of their childhood photos albums and scrapbooks, which spurred more reminiscing, laughter and good conversation.

Sunday morning, our extended family – again with little planning but feeling the pull to do it – attended morning church together. As we’ve grown and scattered throughout the Midwest in recent years, I can’t remember the last time our entire extended family, which once was a bedrock of that church, attended a worship service together. But this time Grandma wasn’t there, delighting one of us were off-key singing.

The church’s annual Harvest dinner followed the worship service.

We had one more goodbye. It had been an emotional and special weekend. I sensed that Phoebe was feeling it, too, the tears welled in her eyes as we hugged and said our goodbyes to my parents at the church doors.

We buckled up and started the long drive home again.

We're Peanutized

So there's a new Peanuts movie coming out. And the good people behind the movie have launched a neat little website where you can create your likeness as a Peanuts character. ...

I created our family as Peanuts characters. Left to right, that's Kates, Phoebe, Faye and me.

Here's the Peanuts trailer. ...

Happy birthday to me

How did I get so lucky?

Kates, the girls and I took off from The Farm yesterday morning and headed an hour down I-90/94 to my parents place to spend the day with them and celebrate my birthday. ... Kates also got me a colorful birthday hat that Faye wore much better than I.

Mom had a plate of sliced meat and cheese ready for us so we could make sandwiches for lunch, and Dad served me up an honorary Pepsi. The girls ate parts of their lunches but had more fun running back and forth through the living room and seeing who could beat the other in a race to hug me first.

For the afternoon, we headed to the city park. The girls immediately took to the swings and monkey bars, and Phoebe made a new friend, Emma, another girl about her age who was at the park with her family. In between playing at the park, we enjoyed relaxing and talking under a shade tree and later a good game of wiffle ball with Phoebe knocking the ball all over the field. Man, I wish she would let me sign her up for Little League …

Before leaving, Dad and I played a game of catch with the baseball. It was our second in as many months, and it was bliss.

Shortly after 3, we left the park so Kates and I could check into our hotel accommodations for the night with the girls. The hope for them was to rest and maybe nap for the hour or so before we were due to meet my parents for dinner. Instead they jumped on the beds and watched Disney Channel.

For dinner, our instructions were to meet my parents outside their neighborhood at 4:30 and follow them in our car to our final destination. They refused to tell us where we were heading and cruised down the suburban Madison roads into Sun Prairie, eventually reaching a refurbished brick building with a sign that read “Nitty Gritty. Burgers, birthdays and beers.” I laughed out loud and had a feeling I was in for a fun time.

The place had the environment of a sports bar and grill with large television screens at every angle. After confirming our reservation, I was invited to pick a balloon and directed to the bar to get my complimentary birthday drink. There, a barmaid took my balloon and tied it to a complimentary beer mug, gave me a card good for one free sundae a month for a year and signed me up for a drawing for a $50 gift card. My name also was added to a board behind the bar that projected all of the day’s birthday visitors. Beer in hand, I headed back down the stairs to rejoin the family and be escorted to our table in the main dining room.

Burgers are the specialty, of course, and I chose the Gritty Burger – an award-winning 6-ounce ground chuck burger with secret “gritty” sauce, served on a honey wheat sesame seed bun. … Then, for the grand finale, I was served a vanilla cake topped with a single candle that shot sparks higher than my head, while the entire wait staff sang “Happy Birthday” to me. Classic.

For the nightcap, we headed to the hotel. The girls and I wasted no time getting into our swimsuits and jumping into the pool while Kates and my parents pulled up some chairs to watch from the deck. For Faye’s first time in a big pool, she did well, giggling as I carried her through the deeper end of the pool. By the end of our pool time, she was bold enough to let me hold her in the water on her back and gliding sideways. I also gave a whole lot of piggy back rides to both girls. It was a lot of fun, and a worthy workout.

By 9:30, I was tucked into the bed next to Phoebe. And I was out.

Summer vacation: Day 1

The vacation beard has commenced.

After a feverish few days of work and just preparing to take a vacation, our annual summer vacation to Wisconsin began today. And this year I’m taking advantage. Two whole weeks – which, aside from paternity leaves, is a record in my professional career.

We’ll spend most of it at The Farm, of course, with Kates’ parents. We’ll also spend a couple days with my parents. And there are a couple Summerfest visits planned. After all, Summerfest annually is the foundation on which we base our summer vacation plans. But more on that later.

Earlier this week, I pledged I would not be up late on the eve of our vacation so I could get a good night’s sleep for the trek north today. But I worked in my office until past 9, helped Kates put the girls to bed and then helped with the packing and worked to take care of some things around the house.

My pledge failed. I headed to bed around 1 a.m. and had to finish packing my suitcase this morning.
Kates and I pressed the snooze on our alarms a couple times and listened to a thunderstorm outside before we finally willed ourselves out of bed around 7:30 this morning. The girls stayed asleep until almost 9, giving Kates and I time to eat some breakfast and finish some of our packing.

By 10, we were on our way. We had sunshine, everyone was in good moods, and everything was great.

As we approached Des Moines, though, the sky had clouded overhead. Kates wanted to stop at Trader Joe’s – I still don’t get the appeal – and it was raining hard by the time we pulled into the parking lot there. After picking up a few snacks, we drove across the street to a Chick-fil-a for lunch, and, to quote Kates, “every stay-at-home mom in a 10-mile radius was there with her kids.” The best part, though, was that the restaurant had a playplace where we could let the girls burn some energy – and that means we have a dining spot other than McDonald’s for our Des Moines pit stops. Oh, and Phoebe lost another tooth as dined on her chicken nuggets.

Then things got tough. The rain only got harder as we returned to the road and we seemed to be driving through the center of a thunderstorm, with lightning flashing all around us. There were times I could barely see the road through the pelting rain, and it did not let up until we passed through Dubuque.

Having the windshield wipers brushing so rapidly for so long nearly hypnotized me and made me sleepy. Between fighting that and the noise of the rain beating the windshield, my mind was strained and I fought a good headache for most of the afternoon. The struggle was real.

Around 4:30 p.m., we pulled off the interstate at Marion, Iowa, to fill the gas tank. I was so relieved just to pull under the overhang covering the pumps and have a break of silence from the rain. A smile broke over my face and I could feel a weight lifted off my shoulders.

Before we left the gas station, Kates gave me some Tylenol to soothe my headache. Then she suggested we get some Mocha Moo-Lates from the Dairy Queen across the street. I put some Joshua Radin on the iPod, and we were good to go the rest of the way.

We arrived at The Farm around 7:30 tonight. Grandma S. made some pizzas for supper. The girls put on a ballet show for us. And I even got to watch the Royals beat up on the Mariners, thanks to the wonders of MLB At Bat on my iPhone.

Day 1 of our summer vacation is in the books.

No baseball today

Last night was the University show choir’s annual spring show, and Kates and I took both girls for the first time. The performance, as usual, was fun and a wonderful showcase of our amazingly talented students – not to mention an opportunity to be introduced to some show tunes with which we were previously unfamiliar. I particularly enjoyed one soloist’s performance of “Stars and the Moon” from “Songs for a New World” and haven’t been able to get it out of my head today. (I just Googled it and learned it’s a Jason Robert Brown composition, which is interesting because I noticed a resemblance to “The Last Five Years” right away.) But more importantly, Phoebe and Faye enjoyed the show, too, and the usually squirrely Faye barely moved a muscle on my lap as long as there was action on the stage.

Of course, we came home and flipped on the Royals game to find the boys playing in a pouring rain in Chicago, which only appeared to make the cold conditions more miserable. The White Sox eventually tied the game, leaving the umpires to suspend play and prevent the game from going into what surely would have been extra innings for the second night in a row. … The remainder of the game was supposed to be played today, along with today’s regularly scheduled game, but both were called off because of more rain.

It worked out well because Phoebe’s afterschool program sponsored an ice skating clinic this afternoon. I took her for the ice skating while Kates and Faye did some shopping. … Shortly after the skating session started some instructors corralled everyone to the middle of the ice to offer some pointers and practice help. But after a few maneuvers, Phoebe only wanted to skate around the rink on her own. She took off right where we left our first skating trip at Crown Center in January. We skated for nearly two hours straight and closed the rink down long after most of the others in her class had left.

But about those Royals …

I had been watching Thursday night’s game but left the room to take care of something in another part of the house as the bottom of the seventh inning was beginning. … I returned to hear the broadcast team referencing a fight that apparently had just occurred. Not again, I thought. Then they began showing the replays.

Five players were ejected, including good ol’ Yordano Ventura, who, in four starts so far this season, has yet to leave a game because of managerial move. Two games by injury, two games by ejection.



Today, four Royals and White Sox players were suspended for the fracas. Fair enough. They all deserved it and no one more than Yordano Ventura and Jeff Samardzija, in my opinion.

But after last weekend's brouhaha with Oakland and now this weekend's series against Chicago, all this talk of the Royals being the “bad boys” of Major League Baseball is getting ridiculous.

Last year, the national media, which wasn’t accustomed to watching the Royals scrap out hits and runs every day, was astonished to see the team make the playoffs. Then, they didn’t give them a fighting chance in their preseason predictions. And now, they’re being knocked around by columnists because they play with emotion and they’re responding to opposing teams are taking shots at them.
To be clear, I don’t like pitchers intentionally throwing at batters, no matter what teams are facing off, and the Royals could have handled all of this better on the field. But they have every right to be playing with a chop on their shoulder.

The Kansas City Star’s Lee Judge does a nice job of breaking down Thursday night’s fight here. …

“Baseball fights tend to involve two guys who are actually mad and a bunch of teammates who come out on the field because baseball protocol demands it. If a teammate gets into an altercation and you don’t come out on the field to protect him, you might as well get on a bus back to Triple-A the next morning; you’ll be an outcast. …

“It’s a fine line: the Royals have to show that they won’t be pushed around — and it seems like teams are trying to push them around — but at the same time the Royals have to keep their eyes on the prize and not let suspensions or fight-related injuries keep them from reaching their goal.”

(Update: 04.27.2015) As he usually does, Joe Posnanski nails it in a column today. …

“So, something is working … and I don’t think the Royals mind this new business of being the heel. I’m quite sure most Royals fans don’t mind it. For years, they were irrelevant. Last season they were fluky. Last October they were quaint. This offseason they were written off.

None of those identities are sustainable for very long. But this theme – loathed, despised, viewed as punks – getting booed in every town, having writers rip them and having players gripe … well maybe it works.”

In other news …

• Universal DH: Ready or Not? … I say get rid of the DH entirely. And for all the reasons this guy writes about.
• No, Alex Rodriguez's home run totals should not have an asterisk ... I hate what Alex Rodriguez is doing to baseball's record book. But this articles makes some good points about how he should be judged.

Awesome Spring Break week

So the university's spring break was this week. Typically, that means the students are gone, but staff continue working and all is mostly quiet around the campus. But this week, for the first time in my six years of work there, I took the entire week as vacation. ... I was in desperate need of some me time, and -- as challenging as it was for me to ignore my university work for the week -- I took advantage of it. I had a glorious week.

Like I told Kates at the beginning of the week when she asked if still would take Faye to daycare each morning: I'm still going to work at 8. I'm just having a different kind of work day.

I spent almost all of Monday working in the yard, clearing brush and preparing the yard for spring. The weather was sunny with temperatures in the 70s. It was awesome.

Tuesday was quite the opposite. We had a wonderful thunderstorm roll in that produced some loud crashes at times, but the temperature also dipped considerably. The weather change reduced my mojo for work considerably and forced me to take on a lot of indoor work. But I was still productive, patching some cracks left in the walls from our foundation work last summer and continuing prep work on our new kitchen cabinets.

I took off Wednesday for a day of shopping. In all our years since moving from K-Town to The 'Ville, I have not set foot in a Menards store because the nearest one is nearly an hour's drive away -- until Wednesday. I made the drive in conjunction with some other stops I wanted to make and was overtaken with such excitement when I arrived that I could hardly stop smiling from the time I walked through the big sliding front doors. The store clerk who passed in front of me in the greeting area probably wondered if I was baked. (... That actually happened once. Years ago, my friend Jeff and I visited an electronics store in Madison, as part of a tour of the city during a day off from work. We were having a great time and, admittedly, were acting silly when a long-haired male store clerk pulled me aside, leaned in, looked me in the eyes and asked, “Dude, are you baked?” I laughed and answered, “No.” The embarrassed clerk apologized and I went on my way.) 

Unfortunately, the temps have stayed cooler since Monday, and I've stayed in the rest of the week, continuing to take care of projects inside. Which is a good thing because they're are plenty of things to do -- that I can't focus on under normal conditions with two little girls running around the house.

Yep, it's been a glorious week. I need to take advantage more often -- like this commercial says.

Here are some of the awesome things I came across on the Internet during the last couple weeks ...

“The Office” premiered 10 years ago this week. To celebrate, Mashable posted 50 best moments from the show. Many of these made me laugh out loud as I read them. You were a good one, Office.

The Ridiculously Sweet Story Behind Mister Rogers' Cardigans ... This is awesome. I had no idea. God bless Mr. Rogers for the impact he had on mine and so many childhoods.

Amazing but true: America is only four presidents’ lives old ... Fascinating.

I've never gotten in to watching “South Park.” But, boy, do ever I remember the craze as ‘The Spirit of Christmas” made its way the floor of my freshman dorm -- and laughing until my side hurt. Here's a good read about how it came to be. 

Here are clips from the “Harry Potter" movies cut as the opening of "Friends."



While I missed the video of the “crying 'piccolo girl,” I did catch her appearance on Monday's “Tonight Show.” Jimmy Fallon's a swell guy for inviting her on the show, and the girl was a great sport about it. Plus, she's going to see Taylor Swift!



Here's a good read from Rolling Stone about “Glee,” which apparently put a wrap on its show Friday night. I learned that only when I noticed the tweets start to come in late Friday night with links to recap stories. ... Kates and I bowed out early in Season 2 -- another casualty of the infamous exploding TV and our chaotic lives that year -- but as the Rolling Stone article fairly points out, the series was starting to losing its direction at that point. All the reviews I read about what we were missing did nothing to pull me back in, nor did the insistence on themed shows. In the end, I had no idea it had moved to Friday nights.

It began eating its own tail, trying too hard to keep up with pop culture references and hit songs in an attempt to stay on top of the charts. Between Gaga-centric episodes and a lesson devoted entirely to twerking (no, really), most of these attempts to soak in the mainstream were ill-conceived. Worse, as Glee began to stray from its satirical roots, it found itself delving more and more into After-School Special territory.

Weekend wrap

Random reflections and reads on this bright and sunny Sunday afternoon. ...

Almost all of the snow the covered our yard earlier this week is gone, and spring can never come soon enough for me. ...

Yesterday, Phoebe was begging to go outside. Given a choice of things to do, she wanted to ride her scooter. So she rode while I walked briskly behind her and we headed to the university campus -- where I realized there were several activities taking place that we could enjoy further. Given another choice of going to the basketball games or the show choir festival, she opted for the show choir festival. ...

It was like an episode of "Glee" exploded inside the performing arts center with girls overloaded with makeup and glittery costumes, guys in colorful tuxedos and duffel bags lining every wall of the building. Phoebe and I watched two schools perform -- they were several hours into the competition with a couple more to go -- before she said she was hungry and we headed to the student union for a snack; she had a bowl of ice cream, while I grabbed a slice of pizza and made a salad.

What started out as a simple walk in our neighborhood turned into a fun, quality afternoon with Phoebe. ...

* * *

So Brian Williams has announced he's taking a leave from the anchor desk at NBC News after the stunning revelation last week that he had "conflated" a story of him riding a helicopter that was shot down in Iraq.

It's no small thing, for sure, for a journalist of his stature. But, geez, it's been a rough year for some of the public figures I most admire. Here's a good read from The New York Times' Maureen Dowd ...

Although there was much chatter about the “revered” anchor and the “moral authority” of the networks, does anyone really feel that way anymore? Frothy morning shows long ago became the more important anchoring real estate, garnering more revenue and subsidizing the news division.

Here's hoping Mr. Williams survives ... 

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Oh, Grey's Anatomy, I do miss you.

Kates and I have no idea what's happened on the show since our old TV blew up and our series of moves messed up our TV-watching routine. ... So I remember the good times and fond memories of when it was the darling of ABC and a Sunday night staple that jumpstarted our weeks. Which is why this story caught my eye during my morning reading: "I'm Still Not Over... George O'Malley's death on Grey's Anatomy."

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This video of a train plowing through snow is pretty amazing. ... 

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And finally, Jimmy Fallon pulled off a pretty awesome reunion this past week by getting together the "Saved by the Bell" cast. Watch below ... Plus, there's this about a lost pilot I didn't know existed.

World Series Game 6: Let's play 7!

I don't know that I've ever been so nervous to watch a game. Like ever.

Game 6 of the 2003 National League Championship Series with the Chicago Cubs and the 2008 NCAA basketball national championship with the Kansas Jayhawks are the closest comparisons I can recall. Based on those experiences, I was prepared for a real roller coaster tonight.

And I was seeing bad omens everywhere I looked today. The social media hype was almost so unbearable I nearly shut off my TweetDeck.

Posted on Twitter this morning …

Hunter Pence ordered cappuccino at Starbucks on the Plaza. Asked to write name as "Champ" on his cup. Barista wrote "Chump." @41ActionNews
— Shannon Halligan (@ShanHalligan) October 28, 2014

The Kansas City Star shared this …



When I got home this evening, I exchanged my work clothes – including my Royal blue tie – for sweats and a Royals T-shirt. I thought better of pulling my favorite Royals blue T-shirt out of the laundry because the Royals lost when I wore it Sunday night. I’m superstitious enough that I even questioned whether to put on a blue long-sleeved shirt under my gray short-sleeved Royals T-shirt. I put on my Royals cap, too.

Then, Kates arrived home with the girls. With Subway for dinner and a large Royals cookie cake. Would the Royals cake be overdoing it?

The answer quickly became: no.

Everything was right for Kansas City tonight. Even the Kansas City Symphony's performance of the Star-Spangled Banner left us awestruck.

I took notice of Yordano Ventura stepping over the lines as he jogged to the pitcher’s mound and pointed out to Phoebe that baseball players do that for good luck. It must have worked.

Yo was lights out. The Giants’ offense could generate nothing against him.

Then the Royals batted in the bottom of the second inning.

• Alex Gordon singled on a soft fly ball.
• Salvador Perez singled on a line drive.
• Mike Moustakas doubled to score Gordon and move Perez to third base.
• Alcides Escobar hit a soft ground ball to the right side and slid under Brandon Belt’s tag at first base.
• Nori Aoki singled to score Perez and move Moustakas to third and Escobar to second.

That signaled the end of the night for Giants pitcher Jake Peavy. Yusmeiro Petit took over.
Didn’t matter.

• Lorenzo Cain singled on a soft fly ball to score Moustakas and Escobar and move Aoki to third.
• After a wild pitch moved Cain to second, Eric Hosmer doubled, scoring Aoki and Cain.
• Billy Butler doubled and Hosmer scored.

I was all over the living room during that inning. Alternating between jumping off the floor and dropping to my knees and pounding the floor with excitement on every hit and score. I was shouting at the TV and stretching my voice like I was right there with the crowd at Kauffman Stadium, and Phoebe and Kates joined me with their own hoopin’ and hollerin’.

When the Royals scored their ever-so-important fourth run I could breathe a sigh of relief, knowing the odds are well in their favor when they score four. But when the second inning was over tonight, the Royals had taken a 7-0 lead.

And I am loving every second of it ... Notice the Royal blue suit! #TakeTheCrown #Royals pic.twitter.com/c9ZaOlpGKH — Andy Seeley (@agseeley) October 29, 2014

Royals 2nd inning: • 11 batters • 7 runs • 2 pitchers • 1 very excited fan base pic.twitter.com/wibGC1z4sl — SportsCenter (@SportsCenter) October 29, 2014

The Royals bludgeoned the Giants during that 32-minute inning. Eight hits, seven runs, one Tim Lincecum sighting. — Andy McCullough (@McCulloughStar) October 29, 2014

On Facebook, my friends were going wild, too. My friend Tiffany posted, simply …

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And we understood. In the top of the third inning Ventura loaded the bases and got out of it with a double play. From my friend Sara on Facebook:

Yeah, he got a little in his head there. Body language has improved. He's got this. Just survive for five (preferably 6) innings and pass it to the pen. Easy cheesy. We got this. Ohmygod now I need a breath!

The Royals tacked on run No. 8 in the third inning. In the fifth inning, Escobar doubled and Omar Infante scored run No. 9 from first, blowing through third base coach Mike Jirschele's stop sign.

Omar don’t need no stinking stop sign. — Sam Mellinger (@mellinger) October 29, 2014

Jirschele should just post a sign at 3B that says: "Do Whatever You Want." — Tom (@Haudricourt) October 29, 2014

Escobar blew a bubble as he rounded 1st on that double. #Royals — Blair Kerkhoff (@BlairKerkhoff) October 29, 2014

The Fox broadcast, which by now was happily changing its tune to talking favorably about the Royals, opened the bottom of the sixth inning with “Spirit in the Sky.” Just saying.

At 9:52 p.m., with the game in the seventh inning, the Kansas City Star posted this: World Series game sevens, like one that awaits Royals, are stuff of legend. ... Seemed a little presumptuous to me. Another bad omen. Whatever happened to It Ain’t Over ‘til It’s Over. … Although, in The Star’s defense, Moustakas had just hit a home run bomb to right field and the Royals had a 10-0 lead.




But not much later, it was over. We’ll have a Game 7 tomorrow night, Kansas City.

I think I could watch one more game. — Royals Nation (@RoyalsNation) October 29, 2014

So this is really happening, huh? I don't know what to do with my entire body! — Jason Lawrence (@JLawrence23) October 29, 2014

Kansas City, your 2014 #Royals will play baseball from the first day to the last. We got this. #WorldSeries #TakeTheCrown — Ryan Silvey (@RyanSilvey) October 29, 2014

"Well then I guess there's only one thing left to do ... Win the whole ******* thing." - Jake Taylor. #TakeTheCrown #Royals — Dalton Vitt (@DaltonVitt) October 29, 2014

At this point, no matter what happens tomorrow night, I’m content. Of course, I want the Royals to pound the Giants again and win it all tomorrow night. But all I wanted today was a Game 7. After that, I can’t ask for anything more and the best team will win tomorrow night.

It’s been an absolutely glorious season that will forever have a special place in my heart. And cherished memories of Esky, Okie Doki Aoki, LoCain, Hos, Billy, Gordo, Salvi, Moose, Omar, Big Game James, Ace, and the three-headed monster – Kelvi, Wade and Hollie.

During the last few days, I've recalled a few times the first Royals game I watched this year, which -- according to my Facebook status archive -- was March 17 …

Faye having trouble sleeping again? No problem. This time it means we get to watch some baseball together. Go Royals!

I’ll never forget it. It was a late, west coast spring training game. It was the first time I saw Ventura pitch. I could tell he was going to be special then, and the Royals won the game. They say pitching and defense win championships, and most of us knew the Royals were well endowed in those aspects of the game. It was the offense that often was in question. Regardless, they came close to making the postseason last season and hopes were high as they headed into this season – aside from the part when they lost their first two regular season games, causing a fair share of fans to freak out and prompting my friend Kevin to post this on Facebook …

The reaction to an 0-2 start, in a season of 162 games is amazing. I know we are starved for a winner in KC but.....take it eassssssssssyyyyy!

Since that night in March with Faye, I've barely missed an inning of the Royals this season. What a ride this has been.

As usual Sam Mellinger sums it up beautifully: The Royals’ crazy ride has reached a game seven — and history beckons.

Wednesday night, what happens in a kids’ game played by grown men will be remembered by a city forever.

There will be nerves and screaming and chanting and accelerated heart beats and tears. There will be tears, either way, with the performance of a baseball team Kansas City has grown to love again determining whether they come happy or sad or both….

The Royals have been so bad for so long that watching them with any sort of regularity over the years has meant dreaming of a night like this, usually without any real expectation of it happening. The World Series? Game seven?

At Kauffman Stadium?

Is this real life?

With quirks and rituals, fans pull the Royals on to Game 7

Packed Power and Light District goes wild as Royals win … A joy to see throughout this postseason run.

Remember the woman who went into labor at The K during Game 1? She was back for Game 6 ... Great story.