Archive for August, 2010

Back to School, Again…

They arrived with anxious looks on their faces.  They seemed confused and bewildered by the campus that would be their home for the next few hours.  What would the teachers look like?  Would they make a good impression?    Where the hell is room 210 anyways? 

They came dressed, as is the custom for a high school near the beach.  Jeans, t-shirts, flip flops, shorts, some wearing dresses and a few actually clad in slacks and ties.  There were cell phones and blackberries in hand while they half walked; half ran through the school quad area looking for their first period classrooms. 

This was the scene at ‘Back to School’ night at my daughter’s high school. 

These are the parents of the children who will soon be thrust upon society as adults in the next few years.  After watching the above scene, I cringe for humanity.  I have never seen so many bewildered and lost souls in my life.  It was as if once they stepped onto campus some sort of bad ‘Twilight Zone’ episode started.  Vanished was any trace of adulthood in these parents.  Gum chewing, soda drinking, interrupting the teacher, cell phones ringing, all seemed to be the norm for the evening. 

My daughter has six teachers throughout her school day.  My wife and I needed to meet with each one.  At ‘Back to School’ night, the teachers have about twelve minutes to talk with you and all the other assembled parents.  In that short time the teacher needs to explain their background, their curriculum for the class and then if there is time, take questions.  The scene is not unlike stumbling through a bad session of ‘speed dating’.

You then have five minutes to rush across campus to your child’s next class.  There the chaos begins all over again.  You repeat this throughout the night until you have had the opportunity to embarrass yourself to all of your kid’s teachers.  

The morning after ‘Back to School’ night, all the students will assemble back into their classrooms.  Their teachers will be looking across the room at all the young faces, and you know exactly what they are thinking after meeting your parents. ‘Now I know why you turned out this way.’

Feels Like an Empty Nest…

Today is the day that my stepdaughter goes off to college.  Her mother and dad drove her to school today to drop her off at the dorms.  Two cars packed to the ceiling with enough clothes, bedding, and miscellaneous schools supplies to arm a small nation.

It’s been a bit melancholy the last couple of weeks as everyone prepared for the big day.  Boxes being packed, some for school others for storage.  Her mother and father helping her decide what is important for school and what needs to be stored away.  Buying books, gathering up school information, figuring out who her dorm roommate will be, all made for a busy summer this year. 

However, as I sit here typing this post out, I realize that the house is a little bit quieter than usual.  Sure, there is still some of her clothing hung up.  There are pictures still up in her room.  Little things around the house that remind me of her presence.  Yet, there is an emptiness in this house.  Like something is missing and you can’t quite put your finger on it.  Except, I can.  My middle child is gone. 

Now, before I get too dreary eyed myself, I need to remember that though she is off to college, she really is only about a two hour drive away.  She’ll be here for holidays, and when her clothes get dirty enough that they need a good washing.  But, its different than having her under foot on a daily basis. 

She and I had a unique ‘love/hate’ relationship.  Two different points of view under the same roof.  However, she was always respectful and we always said “I love you” even after a disagreement.  It is hard to let them go, as any parent will tell you.  I’ve done this before with my oldest and it still isn’t any easier. 

I will miss her and will appreciate the times she comes home to visit.  However, now that she is gone and I have the house to myself most of the time.  I can finally do what I’ve always wanted to do without the chance of being chastised.

Yep, you got it.  I can now safely walk around the house in my underwear.  Man, what freedom…

“Uh Oh, Oh Crap and Oh S**t”…

My wife and I were having a conversation a few nights ago.  She was sitting on the couch knitting a sweater.  For anyone familiar with knitting, the process isn’t always as easy as it looks.  Between knowing when to knit, pearl, cast on, or cast off, knitting can be a complicated process.  With that being said, mistakes will happen while putting together most knitted project.  These mistakes usually take the form of three different stages.

When I hear my wife utter “Uh oh!” I’m certain that whatever the knitting issue, it can be resolved without much fanfare.  It usually involves a simple backtracking of her knitting to fix the error.  If I hear coming from her “Oh crap!” I know that she has run into something a bit more complicated and it would be best if I sat there quietly and didn’t add to the stress.  However, if I hear her say, “Oh s**t!” I know that it might be best to leave the room as silently as possible.  Keeping low and trying to avoid any knitting needles that may be tossed my way.

This got me thinking that life is not unlike knitting mistakes.  You start with nothing but a ball of yarn and through a complicated process of “knotting” you end up with a finished project.  All the while, you go through the same difficult levels of slip-ups that knitting involves.

For example, your teenage daughter comes home from college and tells you she is getting a D in one of her classes.  That qualifies as an “uh oh” mistake.  If your teenage daughter came home and said, she is failing out of all of her classes and is being booted out.  That would probably qualify as an “oh crap” kind of blunder.

However, if same said teenage daughter came home and told you that she just got back from Cancun on Spring Break and is now the star on “Girls Gone Wild” you’d probably have to stop down and take a pause.  Realizing that your daughter is now forever going to be recognized for talents her college classes did give her.  This would become a father’s “oh s**t” moment. 

The obvious moral to this is live life to its fullest.  However, remember to try to limit the uh-oh, oh crap and especially the oh s**t moments.  For many fathers this one included, there is a finite amount of hair follicles on our heads.  We lose them fast enough as it is….

Are We Getting Too Old For Rock and Roll?

The anticipation had been building since we bought the tickets a couple of weeks ago.  We were looking forward to an evening of “rocking out” and reminiscing about the days when all there was in our lives was rock and roll.  We were about to see a “classic rock” band that most of us all grew up with.  We had tickets to see Styx in concert.  Yeah, that Styx band of “Come Sail Away,” “The Grand Illusion,” and “Mr. Roboto,” fame. 

The Orange County Amphitheater with a capacity of about 8,500 seats was a sell out.  I saw people outside of the theater trying to buy tickets to this show.  It would seem “classic rock” doesn’t go out of style.  The band Styx for those who may not be aware of has been around since the 1970′s.  Many of the members of Styx playing last night were from the beginning.  So, that probably makes them rock stars pushing 60. 

The audience was an interesting mix as well.  Young people who know of the group because their parents and classic rock radio won’t let them forget.  Older “rockers” who showed up with canes and I kid you not, walkers.  Most of the crowd was my age, just old enough to remember them from the beginning and young enough to be still trying to “rock out.” 

It was a great evening of rock and roll and a time to reminisce about a time when we were young and the world was ours.  During the concert, there was even the faint smell of a “certain herb” that the state of California may be legalizing in November. 

Are we too old for rock and roll?  If last night was any indication…

HELL NO…

High School Reunions Revisited…

I got the opportunity to witness a high school reunion last evening, not my high school, but my wife’s reunion.  Interesting to be a spectator to someone else’s past and present as they both collide in one evening. 

It has been thirty years since my wife graduated from high school, which ironically is just half a mile from our home.  Our middle child just graduated from this school in June and so we are familiar with what happens there.  However, my wife’s reunion party was another event altogether.  Something that as an outsider was interesting to witness. 

The reunion was held at a local yacht club (we live near the beach) and they anticipated over 200 guests to show up.  A pretty good turnout considering that many people have either move away, were disinterested in attending, or are just no longer vertical anymore.

Casual cocktails to begin the evening and then more cocktails and food later in the evening.  My wife and I arrived and checked in.  They handed her a name tag and we went to mingle.  She found many friends to talk with and of course, I was charming as ever trying as hard as I could to be her “arm candy.”  Many of my wife’s classmates commented on how she still looked the same after all these years, which in turn boosted her self-esteem.            

My wife and I have only really known each other for the past five years, so having her past introduced to me in the present was a fun experience for me.  She reacquainted herself to old friends and I got the chance to see old cheerleaders who no longer thin.  Many of the reunion guests were checking me out trying to figure out if I was an old schoolmate.  Looking for a name tag or just scanning my face to see if it rang any bells.

All in all a fun evening for both of us.  She getting the chance to reconnect with her high school chums and I got the opportunity to peek a little into her past.