FLO

Below is a link to an essay written by our friend and freelance writer, Kim Green.  Kim, Jude and many of Jude's close friends played ultimate frisbee together on "FLO" for more than a decade.  I think Kim's essay really captures how special those times were and, more importantly, how special Jude and her teammates were, and are.

The photo was taken at Monkey Bowl in Nashville in 2004.

http://hernashville.com/her/playing-fields

Some Assembly Required

Easy Rider

When I was a child, one of the five best toys I ever had, without question, was a "Big Wheel."  As kids, my sister, my neighbors and I put a lot of mileage on ours, riding it up and down our driveway.  I wanted to buy one for J.P., but I couldn't find one anywhere.  I'm guessing they're not made anymore. 

I did find something similar, though, a month or two ago.  This weekend, we busted out the "Big Flyer" for J.P.  It's a little big for him right now, as his feet can't quite reach the pedals.  Still, he enjoyed moving forward and backward by pushing with his feet.  Once he gets just a bit taller and masters the art of pedaling, I suspect we'll wear out the sidewalk in front of our house.

Speaking of "Easy Rider," rest in peace Dennis Hopper.  The director and start of the 1969 classic film, "Easy Rider," died over the weekend.  Sad.

The Carousel at the Nashville Zoo

"Zoo, please."

Friday evening, when Jude and J.P. were reading "Good Night, Zoo,"  he looked at her and said, "zoo, please."  Jude and J.P. are regulars at the Nashville Zoo, definitely getting their money's worth out of the season's pass Jude purchased.  It was kind of cool, though, to have J.P. ask to go to the zoo. 

Saturday morning, I went for a long trail run at Shelby Bottoms, in Shelby Park.  Afterwards, I met Jude and J.P. at the Nashville Zoo.  J.P. loves the playground there - lots of stuff for children to climb, swing or slide on.  We didn't stay terribly long - just a couple of hours - long enough, though, to see a zebra, lots of fish and other reptiles, and the carousel.

Catch and Release

A while back, Jude and I decided it would be a good idea for J.P. to go to "Mother's Day Out," or some type of a daycare program, a day or two a week.  Our nannies, Carley and Jenese, have been fantastic, but we feel like he will benefit from being around other children his age, in surroundings that aren't as familiar as his home. 

We settled on a program at West End United Methodist Church, in large part on the recommendation of Jude's cousin Chad White and his wife, Misty.  Both of their children go to daycare there.  Obviously, it's reassuring to already know parents with children enrolled in the daycare program at West End.  It's near our house - about five or ten minutes away - which is nice, too.

Friday, Jude, J.P. and I attended an informal orientation for J.P. (Jude and I had visited previously).  Really, it was just an opportunity for him to familiarize himself with his classroom, meet the teachers and play with some toys for a half hour or so.  He seemed to enjoy himself and, in fact, Friday evening, he looked at Jude and said, "school please."  That tickled us to death, although he may change his tune this Friday, when we drop him off at 9 a.m., then leave for the day. 

As I was watching my Lakers polish off the Phoenix Suns in the Game 6 of the Western Conference Finals late last night, I lamented the fact that two short years ago, I watched the Lakers in the playoffs, late at night, with J.P. sleeping comfortably in my lap.  At the time, he was about two months old, and it was almost surreal to realize I had a son, at long last, to share with my love of basketball - to share with my love of all sports, really.  I remember thinking as I reclined in my "man chair" and J.P. lay on his back in my lap, fast asleep, I could die a happy man, right then.  It sounds trite or maybe a little contrived, but I swear, it seemed as if my whole life had led me to that exact point in time, where I could watch a game on television, my infant son sleeping in my lap and my wonderful wife, sleeping upstairs.

Fast forward to last night and as I watched the Lakers' game, I marveled that two years have passed so quickly.  Ready or not (and, in many ways, I'm not sure I'm ready), my son is going to go to daycare for the first time this Friday.  Just a step down the road for him (and me), I know, but it sure seems like a big step from where I sit.   

Here's another photo I like of J.P. and Laura, taken last week.

Nanny Laura

Carley Meade, J.P.'s longtime nanny, is away on a cruise with her husband, Jon, and his parents.  Jude's cousin, Laura McCutcheon, agreed to stay with him for us last week and next week, as well.  Laura's a natural, which is good, because she's soon to embark on a two or three month trip to Spain, where she's going to nanny for a family there. 

Here's J.P. giving Laura a kiss before she left last Thursday.

Duane

Last fall, Jude and I were fortunate to be introduced to Duane Pierce by my cousin, Alice Walker.  Duane had done some work for Alice, or some of Alice's friends, and he agreed to help us out with some yard work.  He did a great job for us and, as a result, has been working with us ever since. 

This spring, Duane laid some sod in our back yard, which had been a disaster.  Now, we've got grass, real grass, and we spend a lot of time with J.P., playing in the back yard.  J.P. absolutely loves Duane and whenever he comes to the house to work, he can't get enough of him. 

Here's a great photo, one I love, of J.P. watching Duane mow the grass in our back yard.

What's really cute is that J.P. pushed a foot stool up to the window, which he's standing on in this photo, so he could look out the window and watch Duane.   

  

J.P. and Jude at a Nashville Sounds' game.

Beeball

I'm a little behind on this one, but Jude and I took J.P. to his first baseball game of the season a couple of weeks ago.  It was a Friday night and we just beat the rain, then the flood came over the weekend, so I held off on posting any of the photos I took at the game.

J.P. enjoyed himself and really seemed to watch the game.  I've got season tickets and my seats are in the first row, behind the first base dugout.  That makes it easy for him to see what's happening on the field, I think.

When we left that night after a few innings, he kept saying, "bye bye beeball."  The next day, he kept jabbering about "beeball," as well.  We've already been back for another game and I suspect we'll spend many a summer night at Greer Stadium this season.

Flying Solo Again

Jude left this afternoon on a work trip to Washington D.C., so I'm flying solo with J.P. until Wednesday.  I've been a little worried about how he'll react once he realizes she's gone, as he's been going through a bit of a "mommy phase" lately.  So far, so good, though.  He's upstairs now, asleep, laying sideways in his crib, his legs hanging out the side.

We had a great late afternoon and evening.  After he woke up from his nap, we drove over to the Green Hills Mall, so I could pick up a couple of things.  We stopped in Davis Kidd (bookstore), where he played in the children's section for a bit.  It's pretty cool to watch him play by himself, amidst the chaos surrounding him - other children, parents, toys, etc.  He always enjoys himself there and today was no different.

We ate dinner at a mexican restaurant on Belmont Boulevard, right across from the Belmont University.  He ate pretty well and ate some french fries, one of his more recent food discoveries.  After dinner, J.P. got a broom from one of the waiters and swept up for a while, amusing himself, the waiter and other patrons of the restaurant.  It was pretty funny. 

When we got home, we walked up the sidewalk in front of our house.  I put him on my shoulders and walked part way around our block.  As we walked along, enjoying the evening, he rested his chin on my head contentedly.  It was a nice moment.  Our next door neighbor's son, Greg Lehrer, pulled in, returning home from a workout.  I talked to him for a few minutes, while J.P. made a game of handing him sticks, leaves, moss and anything else he could get his hands on. 

When Jude and I moved into our house, Greg was 12 years old.  Now, he's 20, having just finished his sophomore year in college.  He's grown up and my son is growing up, right before my eyes. 

Runnin' Down a Dream

The reason I run is to have maybe five or, if I'm lucky, ten runs a year like I had tonight. 

After I got J.P. ready for bed and Jude put him down, I went for a run in the neighborhood.  I needed to run eight miles to get my mileage in for the week.  It was a perfect night for a run, with the temperature in the mid-50s.  Plus, I'm a night runner.  I've always enjoyed running at night and the last year or so, I've gotten back to running more at night, after we put J.P. to bed. 

Maybe it was because it was such a beautiful night.  Maybe it was because I decided to listen to music on my Ipod, as opposed to a podcast.  Or, maybe it was just one of those runs where everything came together.  Whatever it was, I felt strong, light on my feet, almost like I was floating, especially the last two or three miles.  A top ten run for me is when I feel like I could run forever, when I'm not ready for the run to end, when I don't want it to end.  That's what it was like tonight.

I ran down 12th Avenue to Lipscomb University, across campus, then back up Belmont Boulevard, across 21st Avenue, a couple of laps around the track at Belmont University, then back home.  The last mile or so, I ran hard and felt great.  Again, just damn near a perfect run. 

It got a lot worse than this in downtown Nashville yesterday, as the Cumberland River continued to rise after I took this photo.  Several hotels, restaurants and businesses on First and Second Avenues sustained water damage.

An Angry Cumberland River

More photos taken Monday morning from the Shelby Street Bridge.  The Cumberland River didn't crest until early Tuesday morning, more than 50' above its normal level.

The Great Flood of 2010

I've never been one to worry about the weather, one way or the other.  Predictions of bad weather rarely cause me any concern, because so often the predictions are wrong.  When the local meteorologists predict a heavy snowfall, we get no snow.  When they predict light snow, we get heavy snow.  And so it goes.

Friday afternoon, I began hearing dire predictions of heavy, heavy rainfall coming our way.  We were told to expect a weekend of thunderstorms, rain and high winds, maybe even a tornado or two.  I chided my mom when she expressed concern about the weather.  How bad can a lot of rain be, I thought.  Real bad, it turns out.

In two days, Saturday and Sunday, the middle Tennessee area got almost 14 inches of rain.  That's 1/4 of the total rainfall we normally receive in a year.  And it came in two days!  At times, it rained hard.  At other times, it rained steadily.  Either way, it just kept raining for two days straight. 

On Sunday morning, early, the high winds arrived.  Jude and I woke up around 7 a.m. to thunder, lightning and gale force winds.  We could see our neighbor's trees out our bedroom windows, bending toward our house, closer than they had ever been before.  Fortunately, John Patrick slept through it all.  As the rain continued throughout the day, we began seeing reports on television of flooding in Nashville and surrounding areas.  Then, sadly, we began hearing about those whose lives had been lost in the flood. 

Today, although the rains had stopped and the sun was out, the Cumberland River continued to rise.  It isn't expected to crest until late tonight, at more than 50 feet above its normal level.  Throughout the day, water inched across First Avenue, filling the basements of businesses and offices.  By this afternoon, the water had reached Second Avenue.  The Opryland Hotel and the Opry House flooded, as well.  The news got worse and worse.

It wasn't Katrina and this isn't New Orleans, not by a long shot.  That was a natural disaster of epic proportions, the worst of my lifetime.  Still, I couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, the people of middle Tennesse got just a very small taste of what the people of New Orleans experienced in Katrina's aftermath. 

"We tee off in 5 minutes . . . "