Scooter Time

I want a scooter. Not the kid kind — we have two of those that sit idle in the garage. The boys insisted they needed them, rode them for a week, and that was that. In fairness we do have a steep driveway so it’s just as well. But still. As I recall, the scooter purchase was partly to ward off the pleas for Heelies, those shoes with built-in wheels. Talk about a disaster waiting to happen. They’ll end up breaking enough bones without any additional encouragement.

No I want a real scooter — a Vespa. Something that can tool around town at a top speed of 30 mph. I’d get a black helmet with a little white cross on the front; put my Prayer Book, Bible, and communion kit in the saddle bags and hit the road. Rebel with a cause.

I think the whole idea is the synthesis of two things: gas at $4.25 a gallon coupled with a pre-midlife crisis. I am turning 40 this year after all. Bryna, of course, thinks it’s ridiculous. “How would you take Delilah to work with you?” she asks. I’d get a sidecar. Duh.

Well, I’m in the market for one. Anyone have a garage I can hide it in?

Running for It

Ben and I ran a local 5k race (3.1 miles) on Memorial Day.  It was a fundraiser for the village library expansion project and about 100 people turned out. So for $40 we did a good thing, got some exercise, and earned a t-shirt.

We ran in lockstep, getting to the finish line in 33 minutes. A nice, smooth 10:38 per mile pace. Not bad for an almost 9-year-old running his very first 5k! Sure there were a few spots when Ben wanted to quit (“Dad, I think I’m gonna throw up”) but I encouraged him to keep going.

I didn’t use threats, just lots of incentive. I told him that there would be refreshments at the finish and to think of it like enduring church to get to the Promised Land of Coffee Hour. Not the most positive image of church but I was desperate. And it paid off — Ben finished second in his age group (8 and under) and was awarded a plaque. Plus they had donuts at the finish line so it was just like Coffee Hour. Somehow the urge to yak dissipated as he stuffed two glazed donuts down his throat.

I’m not sure when we’ll run another one together but it’s a gift to be able to share your own passions with your children. Zack and I ran a 5k last Thanksgiving. He also did a great job and had a lot of fun. But when I asked him whether he wanted to run this one with me and Ben (thus roping in his mother) he said, “I’ve already run one. What the big deal?” Okay then. Been there, done that I guess.

Up, Up, and Away

We got into NYC on Saturday to take the kids to the new Superheroes: Fashion & Fantasy exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. This was an effective way to sell the boys on a trip to the museum. The allure of Spiderman is more powerful than the draw of 18th century decorative arts.

The exhibit had a few highlights: the actual costume Christopher Reeve wore in the original Superman movie; two Tobey Mcguire outfits from Spiderman; and Michelle Pfeifer’s Cat Woman get up. They were stuffed with action-posed mannequins which added to the whole experience. Ben and Zack’s overall review? Not enough villains.

It still amazes me just how drawn to superheroes the boys remain. This never ending quest for truth and justice seems to be a never ending phase of childhood. And at some level we never grow out of it — we still crave heroes. Of course human beings always disappoint at some level because they’re, well, human (see Bonds, Spitzer, et al).

Of course we couldn’t leave the Met without a trip to the Arms and Armor room. I’m not sure they know there are other things to see besides knights. But that’s okay. They love going to the museum and that’s a beautiful thing. Nothing beats jamming a bit of culture into your kids; even if, in the case of the Superheroes exhibit, it’s pop culture.

Rainy Season

Looks like we’ll have another little league rainout tonight. This will be the third one in the last week and a half. And Ben and Zack don’t take well to these disruptions to their baseball schedule. But I’m afraid that until they build a domed stadium for the Briarcliff Little League (and such a proposal might face a wee bit of opposition from village voters), rainouts will be an inevitable piece of the experience.

On another level it’s probably good for the boys to face the occasional disappointment of a rainout. They may as well learn now that life doesn’t always go as planned. You don’t always get into the college you want, you don’t always get the job you want, you don’t always get the house you want. But somehow, amid all the rainouts in this life, God works it out. And that’s a good lesson to learn sooner rather than later.

Of course, they don’t care a whit about any of this. They just want to play ball.

 

Grand Tour

Some authors have huge publicity budgets and an army of “people” – agents, editors, publicists. My operation is slightly smaller. Yes, I have a wonderful editor in Cynthia Shattuck at Morehouse. She helped me shape my forthcoming book, “What Size Are God’s Shoes? Kids, Chaos, and the Spiritual Life.” But as far as my entourage goes, that’s about it. I won’t be going on some grand book tour, staying in fancy hotel suites across the country. I’ll leave that to Tom Clancy and James Patterson. Plus I do have a day job.

To give you an inside look at my PR machine, you first have to know that my dog is my publicist. I’m not kidding – Delilah got me my first book signing gig. Most of you know I hang out a lot at Coffee Labs (a wonderful dog-friendly coffee shop in Tarrytown). One of Delilah’s best buddies is an adorable pug named Petunia. Whenever Petunia comes in, these two get right into it. It always looks like a combination of sumo wrestling and the limbo. Delilah gets as low as she can go and Petunia jumps on her head.

Anyway, it was about a year before I found out that Petunia’s owner, Beth, managed a Barnes & Noble in Newburgh (about 30 minutes north or here). She thought my book would be a great fit for her customer base and so we’re going to do an event in mid-August. Should be fun! I’ve listed it on booktour.com and as more events come up, you’ll be able to keep track of other signings, my appearance on Oprah, etc.

In the meantime, I’ve posted a new excerpt from the book on my website. Enjoy!

Green Day

I’m incompetent in grocery stores. I ran out to pick up a couple of items earlier this week and it took me forever to find the four things I needed. Why aren’t ice pops with the other frozen food? Zack was sick so I ventured out solo one evening to get the usual sick food: saltines, ginger ale, etc.

It’s not that I’m purposefully horrible at this just to get out of doing the groceries. Some unnamed husbands I know stoop to such levels to get out of things like cooking, cleaning, and child duty. I’m just really inneficient in grocery stores. Sure, I can’t stand going either but it’s mostly that I’m just bad at it.

I did, however, have my first encounter with reusable bags. And I ended up being both green and economical — according to Bryna Food Emporium gives you 2 cents off for using your own bag. But I admit that I felt a bit self-conscious walking in with it. It didn’t help that Bryna handed me a bright red Target bag. I was hoping for a more subtle way to help the environment.

But this feeling quickly morphed into self-righteousness once I got in line at the register. I wanted to mutter “Earth killer” under my breath at all the other shoppers who were getting plastic bags. But I stuck with a haughty look of holier-than-thou disdain. Who knew shopping could be such a self-congratulatory experience? I could get used to this. Well, as long as it’s only the occasional four items.

 

Day at the Museum

I spent yesterday with Ben’s third grade class at the Museum of Natural History. It’s great to still be at that stage in life when your kids aren’t mortified by your presence. Though I do look forward to being the mortifi-er rather than the mortifie-ee. I assume it’s much more fun.

When I told Bryna I had signed up for this trip she just laughed at me. And I admit my expectations and the reality were slightly different. I thought I’d be hanging out with Ben and a few of his buddies while taking in the ancient bones of t-rex, stegosaurus, and the rest. No, I didn’t read the fine print. I had inadvertently signed up for chaperone duty. And while that may have different connotations for a high school dance, chaperoning third graders is mentally and physically exhausting.

I was assigned a group of five kids. My only charge? Don’t lose one. So I spent all morning counting to five over and over again. In between the counting were split seconds of terror when I momentarily couldn’t find one. When I got back to Todd School, someone asked me how the museum was. I really have no idea – all I saw were the backs of five heads.

What I really wanted was to get five leashes and hook ‘em all up. I’d look just like one of those professional dog walkers you see in Central Park, minus the plastic baggies. I also considered duct taping them together and wheeling them around in a shopping cart. Either method would have been much more humane – for the chaperone.

After shepherding all five of them back onto the yellow bus, I felt an extraordinary sense of relief. Of course this quickly turned to nausea as the bus pulled out and I realized I hadn’t ridden on a school bus for about 25 years. They really are horribly uncomfortable. But Ben and the rest of our group had a great time and no one got lost. I think I’ll stick to shepherding my congregation.

Adventures in Podcasting

I spent the morning beating my head against a wall. In other words I was trying to teach myself how to use some new technology. And by “new” I mean something your average 10-year-old could do with his eyes tied behind his back. This particular head bashing revolved around podcasting.

At the Episcopal Communicators conference in Seattle last month I heard about a great new product for recording sermons. The Zoom H2 is a handy little recording device which I ordered and used for the first time on Sunday. The sound was great but unfortunately it doesn’t enhance the sermon’s content. The idea is to start podcasting my sermons. That way parishioners who can’t be in church on Sunday morning (because they’re out of town or ill – not because they’re sleeping in or going to soccer, of course) will be able to hear the sermon at their convenience. It’s also intended as a resource for our Sunday School teachers who bring the kids in for communion but miss the Liturgy of the Word.

Putting sermons on the web also means that anyone in the world can be inspired and enlightened by my preaching. I’m sure I’ll be overwhelmed with visits to my website and I’ll become the Joel Osteen of the Episcopal Church. The only thing stopping me? I still haven’t figured out how to make them available!

But I’m getting closer. I exported the file into an MP3 format and put it on my iTunes. So I can now listen to it on my iPod. The next time I go out for an 11 minute and 30 second run I’ll be able to listen to the sound of my own voice. Talk about hitting “The Wall.” Ugh.

Eventually I’ll figure out how to make the sermon accessible for download. It may take grabbing a teenager off the street and kidnapping him for the two minutes it would take for him to do it for me. Until then I’ll keep beating my head against the wall.

Power (Point) of the Dark Side

Ben recently received an assignment to do a presentation on a famous person using Power Point. He’s in third grade. I don’t know how to use Power Point. And I still associate it with middle management sales staff that travels around the country with their laptops giving presentations on the merits of corrugated plastic products.

I guess this is Exhibit A in the generation gap. The first computer I encountered was in middle school – it was named Huey and it was a giant contraption that used those manila punch cards. I’m not sure what it could do besides addition and subtraction and it seemed to me like the world’s largest calculator. I wasn’t impressed.

But, to be honest, this is why I decided to have kids in the first place: for at-home tech support. In a few years I won’t need to talk to someone in India. I’ll just need to roust a sleeping teenager (and, yes, I understand this is hard to do).

I’m always going to be behind the technology curve. Sure, I’m blogging now but this isn’t exactly a high tech site – no videos or a streaming “priest cam,” as compelling as that might be. And while I’ve never sent a text message, I am proud of the fact that I have never, ever used an emoticon in an email. If you ever see a smiley face in a message from me you’ll know the Kremlin has hacked into my email system.

Ben’s decided to do his presentation on George Lucas. Perhaps in a “galaxy far, far away” there’s a place where I’d be on the cutting edge of technology. I’m not holding my breath.

Ride the Duck!

We had a great weekend visiting family in Baltimore. It’s rare these days that we can get all six cousins together. Part of it is geography — New York, Virginia, Michigan. And part of it is the pesky fact that I have to work on weekends — I couldn’t seem to negotiate this out of my contract. We met our newest niece, Rowan (no relationship to Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams), for the first time this weekend and she’s already eight months old!  

One of the highlights was to “Ride The Duck.” Oh, alright, I’ll explain. The Duck is a sightseeing operation that tours around Baltimore. When you buy the tickets they give everybody bright yellow quackers so you can quack at people as you pass by. Whoever dreamed this up obviously never had kids. Or maybe they had a bitter childhood and determined to torture other parents for a living. Needless to say my ears are still ringing. Or quacking to be precise.

The amazing thing about The Duck is that it is both a bus and a boat. So after pointing out a few highlights, like Edgar Allen Poe’s grave, it suddenly went down a ramp and motored around the Inner Harbor. Pretty nifty. I’m looking into converting my Honda CRV into an SUV/boat. That way I could offer someone a ride, pretend to lose control, and drive into the Hudson River. Oh, the hilarity!

Finally, a few Highlights and Lowlights of our weekend in Baltimore:

Highlight: 3 and a 1/2 hour trip down on Friday morning was the first long car ride without needing to stop.

Lowlight: Trip back took 5 hours thanks to construction in Delaware and the George Washington Bridge.

Highlight: Great Sunday brunch at the Renaissance Hotel with a view overlooking the Inner Harbor.

Lowlight: Missed getting to church.

Highlight: Could see Ravens Stadium from the hotel room.

Lowlight:  The Orioles were out of town, losing in Anaheim.

Highlight: All the cousins got along famously.

Lowlight: Having to pull them apart made our boys cranky for the ride home.

Highlight: Crab and bacon omelet for brunch on Sunday.

Lowlight: Cheddar cheese Combos and water for lunch on the long drive home.

Highlight: A great weekend away.

Lowlight: Next weekend off isn’t until August.