Jude and J.P.

This afternoon, after J.P. got up from his nap, Jude and I strolled with him down to Bongo Java.  On the way home, we stopped at the soccer filed and Belmont, through the frisbee and watched him run around.  It was a very pleasant fall evening and we had a great time just sitting, relaxing, spending time together as a family.  Jude leaves tomorrow for three days in Washington D.C., so it was nice interlude for the three of us.

I took this photo of the two of them.  It may be one of my favorites.

"Make a Funny Face"

One of my favorite things, when I'm taking photos of J.P., is to tell him to "make a funny face."  Usually, I get something like the expression in the photo above, which always makes me laugh.  I'm giving serious thought to putting together an album containing only photos of J.P. making "funny faces."

Here's a nice shot of Jude and J.P watching "Sid the Science Kid" on PBS before work on Thursday.

Garbage Truck

 As I've mentioned before, J.P. loves garbage trucks and fire trucks.  I took this photo last week, when he was playing with a garbage truck I picked up for him on my way home from work.

Easy Rider

Right back at 'ya.

Driving

Notice the casual way J.P. grips the steering wheel with one hand.  If he learns to read the newspaper while he's driving, he'll be just like his old man.

Swinging Bridge

Actually, this was kind of a scary moment.  Look closely.  You can see the look of concentration on my face.

The Last Stand of the Tennessee State Fair

The State Fairgrounds and the Nashville Raceway are close to our house.  By close, I mean when the wind is right and there is a race, it sounds like the cars are racing from our front yard to our back yard and back again.  Alas, after this year, the State Fair will no longer be held at the Fairgrounds and the Raceway will be closed.  It's sad, but it's prime real estate, minutes away from downtown and it's going to most likely be developed in some form or fashion, hopefully as part of a plan that will include some green space or a park.

I'm not sure exactly why, but Jude and I have been going to the State Fair for several years.  It's gritty, dirty and maybe a little unsafe, but it's ours.  Or something like that.  We took J.P. last year, but he was a little young to do much more than roll around in his stroller and take it all in.  Last night, J.P. made his second appearance at the State Fair and it was an entirely different story.  Man, what a difference a year makes!

Although we took a stroller in with us, he wanted out as soon as we got inside the Fairgrounds.  As we walked down the midway, he just stopped and stared, transfixed by the sights and sounds of the rides, games and people milling about.  At first, it was hard to get him to keep walking.  He just stood still, like a statue, quiet with his eyes wide open.

Jude took J.P. on what really amounted to a children's obstacle course, complete with slides, a tunnel and a rickety swinging bridge with nets on the sides.  When he slid down the last slide, he wanted to go again, so I took him back into the obstacle course.  Piece of cake, I thought, until we got to the top and started across the swinging bridge.  First of all, the slats had gaps in between them, big enough it seemed to me that his foot could slip through.  Second, it was hard to balance myself and hold his hand, because there were no walls on either side, only netting.  When other children ran up behind us and the hold bridge started swaying, I literally thought I was going to fall into the net, taking him with me.  Finally, as we slid down the slide at the end, I breathed a sigh of relief.  I was ready to go home, right then.

We wandered over to an area that had a couple of children's rides - some cars that children could sit in, that rotated around and around, slowly, and some motorcycles that did the same thing.  No problem, I thought, Jude can ride in one of the cars with him.  Except, that wasn't the case.  No adults allowed.  When Jude tried to take J.P. out of the car he was sitting in, he started screaming and the lady working the ride strapped him in, took Jude by the arm, and gently escorted her outside the ride.  "He'll be fine," she said.  "He's 2 1/2 years old?  We've had 18 month olds on this ride."  Gulp.

I was convinced that as soon as the ride started, J.P would fall apart, start crying and the lady would have to stop the ride to let him off.  Wrong.  He loved it.  As soon as the ride started, he gripped the steering wheel, went around and around, grinning from ear to ear the entire time.  I'm not going to lie, my heart sank just a little bit as I watched him.  "J.P. doesn't need us anymore," I thought.  "He's growing up."

Next, it was on to the motorcycles.  As Jude strapped him in, J.P. looked her in the eye and said, "get out, Mama."  I'm not joking.  "It's over," I thought.  "He's going to tell us, this weekend, that he needs his own space, that he's moving out, going to get his own place."  All before his third birthday.

The highlight of the night for me, though, was "the Euroslide."  J.P. wanted to try it, so we walked all the way up a steep, steep ramp to the top.  He walked in front of me, on his own, up the ramp, which was impressive in and of itself.  I sat down on a piece of plastic folded over at the bottom for my feet, placed him between my legs and pushed off with my hands.  Off we went, sliding down the length of the slide, picking up speed and flying over the humps in the slide.  It was awesome!  As soon as we got to the bottom, sliding into the foam, J.P. jumped up, bouncing on his feet, and said, "again, again Daddy!"  We rode the slide two more times.  The last time, J.P. screamed happily as we slid down.  I did, too.

It's hard to describe, but I felt really close to J.P. as we hurtled down "the Euroslide," together.  I think he   felt safe, sitting between my legs.  Safe enough, anyway, to try something new that was a little scary, but exciting at the same time.  It was another one of those special moments I'm always referring to, where I wanted to stop time and preserve the memory in my mind forever.

J.P. may forget the night we rode "the Euroslide" together, the last week the State Fair was held at the Fairgrounds.  But, you know what?  I won't forget it.  

Hansen's Sno-Bliz

The Spirit of Radio

I love radio.

In the mid-70's, I had a red, digital clock radio.  At night, I often fell asleep listening to it, turned down low so my mother wouldn't hear.  Some nights, I'd listen to "Mystery Theater."  Other nights, I'd listen to A.M. stations playing songs like "When Will I See You Again," by The Three Degrees and "Oh What a Night (Late December Back in '63)," by the Four Seasons.  When I was in elementary school, I called a local radio station every morning for a couple of weeks and requested "Welcome Back," by John Sebastian, until the DJ finally played it just to stop me from bothering him.

In my teenage years - the early to mid-80's, for the most part - I switched to F.M.  In junior high, after WKQB ("Rock 106") disappeared, I listened to 103 WKDF (a country station now, due to a format change).  By then, I had stereo at home, in my room.  Immediately after purchasing my first car - a 1966 Ford Mustang - I had a new stereo installed in it, with extremely loud Jensen Triaxle speakers (whatever that means). 

In college - the mid to late-80's - I didn't listen to the radio quite as much.  For one thing, the radio stations in Knoxville (TN) weren't as good as those in Nashville.  For another, I tended to spend more time listening to record albums then, later, compact discs.  I practically lived at a used record store just off Cumberland Avenue on "the Strip" - "Play it Again Sam's," where I picked up semi-obscure albums by groups like the Guess Who ("Canned Heat") for $3.75.  I still have all my albums in a couple of crates upstairs, by the way, much to Jude's chagrin.

In the early 90's during my last year in law school, I discovered public radio - National Public Radio, to be precise.  I've been hooked ever since.  I love politics, news and current events.  Nowhere are those topics and so many others covered in as much depth as on National Public Radio.  Presently, I have identical Sony transistor radios in the bathroom upstairs, the bathroom downstairs (where I shower), in the kitchen an in my off ice, at work.  All four radios are normally tuned to 90.3 (WPLN), Nashville's public radio station.

Then, of course, there's sports talk radio.  In the late 90's, I listened to Bob Bell (a Nashville sports icon who recently died) and Bill King on "the Big Dog," 1510 WLAC (an A.M. station).  In the 00's, George Plaster dominated the sports talk airwaves in Nashville, first on 99.7 (WWTN) and later on 104.5.  I mean, c'mon, it's two things I love - sports and talk - what could be better, right?

In the late mid to late-00's, satellite radio arrived (XM and Sirius) - one of the greatest inventions of my adult life.  ESPN Radio, Fox Sports Radio, NFL Radio, etc.  60s, 70s and 80s stations.  Jazz stations.  Amazing.

In the late-00's, I discovered podcasts.  It's radio, really, just delivered a different way - for me, through my iTunes account on my laptop computer, then downloaded to my iPod.  Podcasts rank right up there with satellite radio as one of the greatest inventions of my adult life.  My iTunes account is set up so that several podcasts are automatically downloaded to my laptop computer every time they're released.  I listen to them on my iPod while I'm running, which is a beautiful thing.  "The B.S. Report" with Bill Simmons, "Bob Edwards' Weekend," "Fresh Air" with Terry Gross, "This American Life" with Ira Glass and "Tales from Lake Wobegone" with Garrison Keillor are in my regular rotation. 

I can't tell you how many miles I have run in how many different places, the last few years, listening to one of those podcasts.  To say they've helped my pass the time and pass the miles is an understatement.    The technology is incredible, as is the fact that there's an unlimited number of podcasts available, for free, on any subject.  One of my best, most reliable resources for music, books, movies, etc. are the podcasts I listen to.

For example, on a recent "Bob Edwards' Weekend" podcast,  he was in New Orleans for the Jazz and Heritage Festival ("Jazz Fest").  While there for a couple of weeks, he stumbled upon Hansen's Sno-Bliz, a landmark in New Orleans for more than 70 years.  At Hansen's Sno-Bliz, they make "snowballs," which aren't "snow cones," not by a long shot.  It's believed to be the oldest "snowball" stand in the United States.  Bob Edwards did part of a podcast from Hansen's on July 4.  On his recommendation, Jude and I took J.P. there for a "snowball" on our recent trip to New Orleans.  J.P. loved it and so did we.       

Santa Rosa Beach 2010

Back to reality, after a relaxing week at "Another Happy Day," the beach house where we stayed this year and last in Santa Rosa Beach, Florida.  Although we stayed an extra day, as always the day we left (Sunday) was the nicest day of the entire week we were there.  The ocean looked like a lake, it was so smooth.

Many memories made (I'll list a few below, in no particular order) and in the end, that's what vacations are for, I think.

1.  Lifeguard William.  J.P. was quite taken with William, the head lifeguard at the beach near the house where we stayed.  Old enough to have a grandchild J.P.'s age but in incredible shape, William spent a lot of time talking to J.P., checking in with him and letting him know that everything on the beach was in order.  J.P. enjoyed the extra attention and asked about William every time we got ready to go to the beach.

2.  Night run followed by a dip in the pool.  Monday night, I went for a 5 mile night run along the bike path on 30A, after we put J.P. to bed.  It was a little disconcerting, as there are no street lights on 30A and it was pitch black in places.  After I finished the run, I went for a quick swim in the pool a stone's throw from the house where we stayed.  Very refreshing.

3.  Playground.  I discovered an elementary school about 3 miles from our house.  Guessing right, we hit the mother lode when we found a playground behind the school.  A couple of days, Jude drove J.P. to the playground and I ran there from our house.  J.P. enjoyed the slides and, generally, climbing and playing on the playground equipment.  It was a nice break for him from the beach.

4.  Ocean breakthrough.  J.P. enjoyed the beach much more this year than last year.  In particular, he had a good time playing in the sand, digging with his shovel, bulldozer, etc.  He even stood in the ocean, as the waves broke across his ankles and feet.  That was a big improvement over last year.  However, he didn't want anything to do with going any further into the ocean and he cried when Jude went swimming.  Generally, he tolerated the beach for an hour or so at a time, before asking to go back to the beach house.

5.  Scrabble battles.  Like last year, Jude and I played a lot of scrabble.  The final tally was 2-2, fittingly.

6.  Bikes.  We rented bikes, opting this year for a "toddler trailer," which J.P. loved riding in, helmet and all.  Thursday night, we rode our bikes down to "Ballyhoo's" for dinner.  We almost had the place to ourselves, if you don't count the man who was so drunk he fell face first on the floor near the bar, about 10 minutes after we arrived.  After dinner, we rode our bikes up 30A for ice cream.  We rode home after dark, feeling our way down the bike path.

7.  Friday Night Lights.  Before we left Nashville, I downloaded season 4 of "Friday Night Lights" from iTunes.  I watched all 13 episodes, staying up until 1 or 2 a.m. most nights.  Amazing show, probably my favorite ever on network television

8.  Pat Conroy.  I read Pat Conroy's latest novel, "South of Broad Street," again staying up until 1 or 2 a.m. each night.  I'm a huge Pat Conroy fan, so it was nice to settle in and read another one of his books. He doesn't publish books too often, so when he does, it's kind of like a visit from an old friend I haven't seen in a while.  As always, the writing was amazing.

9.  First names.  For some reason, shortly after our arrival, J.P. decided it was time for him to be on a first name basis with Jude and me.  Accordingly, with no prompting, he starting saying "Jude" and "Phil," instead of "Mama" and "Dada."  At first, we ignored him, then we gently corrected him.  It was funny, actually.

Deep Thoughts (Not Really)

For the past year or so, one of J.P.'s former nannies, Laura Musten, has literally been touring the world, playing violin in a band called "Owl City."  When she came to work for us, Laura had fairly recently graduated from Belmont University after majoring, I believe, in music performance.  At the time, it seemed to me that Laura was trying to figure out where her life was going to take her.  I think (and these are my thoughts and mine only) she was having some doubts as to whether she would be able to make a living playing her violin and playing it in a way that fulfilled her, as opposed to giving children lessons, playing weddings and special events, etc.

Through a fortuitous set of circumstances, the full nature of which I'm not completely clear on, Laura hooked up "Owl City," played a few shows on a short tour, then was asked to continue to play and tour extensively with the band.  Thus, she left us and began an exciting journey to see the world, violin case in hand.  

Jude and I have enjoyed hearing about all the cities, towns and places Laura and Owl City have played the last year or so, as she "tweets" about them on Twitter (if you don't understand Twitter, I can't explain it to you).  Laura's such a kind, genuine person, who was so good to our son, that we can't help but be excited for her success. 

All of the above is a long way of getting to the point of this post.  Last week, from Hawaii, Laura tweeted "I think this is he best day of my life!"  No explanation, no details, just "I think this is the best day of my life!"

Laura's tweet got me to thinking, really, how often can any of us say that?  When have we felt, at the time, in the moment, that we were living the best day of our life?  I mean, how many times, in life, do we  get to have that feeling?  My guess is probably not that many, especially if you exclude special events, like weddings, the birth of a child or grandchild, etc.  And, when we do have that feeling, do we remember it?  My guess is in most cases, probably no, we don't remember it.  That's kind of sad, really.

The point of all this, to me, anyway, is a reminder to live in the moment.  To appreciate the day you're living.  It's trite, I know, but we're not promised anything more than today.  That being said, it's incumbent upon us to find the beauty in each and every day, and to avoid dwelling on problems that occur at work, at home, or somewhere in between.  

The day before yesterday, here at our beach house in Santa Rosa Beach, Fl, J.P. woke up early from his nap, crying.  I walked into his room and laid down on the bottom bunk of the bed, next to his "Pack-n-Play."  He stopped crying and fell sound asleep, shortly after I laid down.  A little while later, as I laid in bed and read Pay Conroy's latest novel, "South of Broad," I noticed the sunlight filtering through the wooden shades, forming a symmetrical pattern on the book and the bed where I lay.  I placed the book on my stomach, turned my head to the side and just watched my son for a few minutes, sleeping.

Then, I thought to myself, this might be the best day of my life. 

 

J.P. and Jude this morning, as we prepared to ride our bicycles back to the beach house after breakfast.

Rumble Seat

Jude and I rented bicycles from a local bicycle shop a couple of days ago.  Rather than renting a bicycle with an extra seat on it, we decided to rent a "toddler trailer" (my words), as well.  Essentially, it's a rumble seat that attaches to the side of the back wheel of the bicycle and allows the rider to tow the "toddler trailer" directly behind the bicycle.

J.P. loves riding in the "toddler trailer," probably because it's kind of like getting strapped in to a spaceship by the time we put his helmet and seat belts on, then close the canopy.  I've toyed with the idea of getting a "beater" bike, just to cruise around the neighborhood on.  I think I will, but I'm going to have to step up and buy a "toddler trailer" for J.P., too.

Tonight, we're going to ride our bicycles down the bike path to Ballyhoo's, a restaurant and bar a half mile or so away from our beach house.  After we eat dinner, we're going to ride over to a nearby lake.  Should be a fun evening.

Aquaman

We've had a breakthrough of sorts the last couple of days, insofar as J.P. has begun to enjoy himself at the beach.  More importantly, he actually played in the ocean a bit.  That's huge for me, because I love the ocean.  I love everything about it.  I like to think it's "the Californian" in me, that I'll always be a beach bum at heart.  I could live at the beach, year round, easy.  Eventually, someday, I think I will.

Yesterday, J.P. waded in shallow water with Jude, filling up and emptying his bucket repeatedly.  He laughed as the waves broke over his feet and ankles, as Jude held his hands.  It was fun to watch.