Morning Joe

In late winter and early spring, we get the best light in the morning, in our bedroom upstairs.  Some of my favorite photos J.P. I took of him, in our bed, in the morning this time of year.  One morning recently, when Joe woke up, I took some shots of him, too.  I think they turned out pretty great.

I've said this before, but I'm lucky my guys are photogenic, like their mother.

Missed

I've had a good time with my friends on our annual spring trip to Vegas, but I can't wait to get home tonight.  I can't wait to hug Jude, J.P. and Joe, and to get back into our daily routine.

I can't compehend how hard it must be for parents who travel a great deal for work or for soldiers stationed overseas to be away from their families for extended periods of time.  After 4 days away from my family, I miss them terribly. 

Talking to J.P. on the telephone while I've been gone has been tough, actually, because it makes me long to be there with him.  To hear him say he's counting (literally) how many days it is until I get home tugs at my heartstrings. 

My boys are at such great ages right now.  J.P. turns 5 later this week.  Joe turned 1 last month. 

J.P. - the past 3-6 months - has really started following (and watching) sports.  Belmont and Vanderbilt basketball, the Lakers and, of course, the Nashville Predators (his favorite).  He insists on giving blow-by-blow descriptions of the action during televised Predators' games if Jude or I aren't in the room with him, watching the game.  He's on the edge of his seat the entire time (I wonder who he gets that from).

Joe is learning new things every single day.  New noises, bits or words, etc.  When I get home from work, he says, "da da," which melts my heart (and reminds me of J.P. at that age).  He's so close to walking on his own for good.  Right now, he pulls himself up and takes a few tottering, "drunken sailor" steps before sitting down in the floor with a thud.

So many good times lie ahead for our family.  Life goes so fast.  Sometimes it takes a trip like this and being away for a few days to remind me to slow down and really, really appreciate how blessed I am to have the family I have.  God is good indeed. 

 

Vegas

I'm in Vegas, on my annual "partners' retreat" with Mark, Chas and various friends.  This is our 11th year to make the spring trip, almost always on the weekend that the NCAA basketball tournament begins.  It's a good time for us to get away, hang out together and, really, bond with each other (although that sounds a little silly).

There are many, many reasons I love Vegas.  You can wear what you want (literally anything) and nobody gives you a second glance.  It's the best place in the world to people watch.  You can stay up as late as you want or go to bed as early as you want, and it doesn't matter.  The sports books - I love the sports books.  Every single night you can eat at an amazing restaurant, if you want to.  People here, by and large, are happy and glad to be here.  Every morning when I'm here, I go for a run.  Over the years, I've established several 3, 4 and 5 mile routes.  There's nothing like getting a run in, then having a beer (or ten).  My all time favorite sushi restaurant is here.  And there's gambling, lots of gambling.  Black jack and craps (Chas can play craps forever).

My first trip here was with Jude for Valentine's Day, years and years ago.  We walked around like the tourists that we were, checking out the casinos and, really, must people watching.  It was cool.  Later, Chas and I brought Mark out for  his first trip, which was cool.  In the year since our first trip, Jude and I have been to Vegas every fall with the Foodbrothers for our annual "Summitt."  It's become my home away from home, which is sort of bizarre, when I think about it.  Still, there's no other place I travel to twice a year, every year.

I have so many memories of Vegas.  Mostly good.  Some wins at the tables or in the sports book and some bad beats.  Lots and lots of time spent with Jude, my law partners and assorted friends.  Some late nights and some early nights.  I've stayed at almost every hotel/resort here, although the Wynn is my favorite (and Jude's).  I've had some great runs and some great times.  I've  had some great meals and some great nights out with friends.  It's Vegas.  

Joe's 1st Birthday

It's late and I'm listening to Neil Young's Live at Massey Hall 1971 while I try to figure out where the last year has gone.

One year ago this afternoon, Jude and I welcomed into the world our second son, Joseph Dylan Newman.  For the first few hours after Joe was born, I held him in the recovery room while Jude slept nearby.  I was more than a little worried (although the nurses told me not to be), as his breathing was a a bit raspy.  As he slept in my arms, I sang quietly to Joe, over and over, the same lines from Elizabeth Mitchell's "So Glad You're Here."  To this day, when I hear that song, I immediately recall that long, late afternoon in the recovery room.

It seems like yesterday and, yet, it seems like a lifetime ago.

Our first night home from the hospital, Joe woke up in the middle of night, crying.  J.P. had a stomach virus of some sort and vomited 2 or 3 times.  As we walked around the next morning, strung out from a lack of sleep, Jude and I agreed we just had to make it through the first year.

Well, we made it through the first year.

There was joy and laughter and, yes, there was worry and concern.  There was sickness, as Joe was diagnosed with RSV at 5 or 6 months of age.  We spent several sleepless nights taking turns staying up with him as he struggled to breathe normally.  There were ear infections, too, something J.P. never had to deal with.  There were a lot of nights when I slept downstairs and, after Jude brought him down halfway through the night, I strolled Joe up and down the hall/into the dining room in the "City Elite" stroller until he fell back asleep.

There was a lot of learning.  There also was a lot remembering, as we experiences we had with Joe brought to mind memories of J.P.'s first year.  There was the beginning and end of breastfeeding.  There was the beginning and end (almost) of formula.  There was the beginning of solid food and whole milk.

There was the army crawl and now, there is the all fours crawl, as Joe became mobile more quickly than J.P. did.  There was standing and there is almost, and I mean almost walking.  It's coming any day now.

There were trips to Florida and Huntsville, although I've erased the return trip from my mind.

There were many, many miles strolled and hours spent together, as Joe and I put the Baby Jogger "City Elite" stroller to good use.  In the summer and fall, there were late night walks to Bongo Java.  We became semi-regulars at Cha Chah (now defunct), where I'd roll Joe up to the bar and while he slept, drink a glass of wine and read on my Kindle.  There were Saturday afternoon strolls to Mafiozza, where I had a beer or two and talked to my favorite bartender, Doc, as Joe slept in the stroller.  There were 3 mile walks through the neighborhood just to get some exercise.  There were many walks across Belmont University's campus and through the buildings.  There also were many Saturdays and Sundays this winter spent at the Green Hills Mall, strolling while Joe slept.

There was a big brother - J.P. - how loved his little brother each and every day, in so many ways.

Most of all, there was love and laughter, as we watched our happy, good natured baby boy grow from an infant to a 1 year old.  And there were miracles, almost every day.

Happy Birthday, Joe.  I love you.

Rumours 2.0

You can go home again.

This afternoon, I took a deposition downtown (and when I say I killed, I mean I took no prisoners) and finished a few minutes before 5 p.m.  After I spoke to my client for a few minutes, I drove over to the Gulch to visit some old friends and, maybe, make a few new ones.

Rumours Wine Bar, one of my all time favorite watering holes, reopened earlier this week at its new location on Division Street.  I had many, many glasses of wine at Rumour's original location in 12South, near our house.  Thanks to urban slumlord and purveyor of urban blight, Jimmy Granbery, the original Rumours closed a little more than a year ago when his company bought the property on which it was located to build a hideous multi-unit condominium complex (but that's another story).

And damn, I've missed Rumours.  I've missed sharing a glass of wine with my friends, Hal Humphreys (the Mayor of 12South) and Kim Green.  I've missed sitting outside on the patio, sipping from my wine glass, as cars drive by on 12th Avenue.  I've missed stopping in with J.P. just to say hi to everyone.  I've missed seeing Jenn McCarthy and Christy Shuff, the proprietresses (is that even a word?).  Most of all, I've missed that feeling of being in a neighborhood bar.  My neighborhood bar.

Tonight, when I walked in, I was greeted by familiar faces behind the bar and on the floor.  Later I learned that all of the staff had re-joined Jenn and Christy at Rumours' new location, after scattering like leaves for a year.  That alone is a testament to the fact that Rumours is something special, something more than a bar or restaurant.

I sat down at the bar and the bartender (and a new friend), Caleb, poured me a glass of Hudson Baby Bourbon Whiskey.  As I sipped my whiskey and looked around, I felt really, really happy.  Like I had come home to find my house had been renovated.  But it was still my house.  It sounds strange and I can't quite put into words what I mean, but it "felt" like the old Rumours.  Sure, things look different and the drink menu has expanded beyond wine (including liquor and beer) but I felt like I had come home again.

Within a few minutes, Jenn McCarthy arrived and after a hug, we talked at the bar for a few minutes.  Just like old times.  She was beaming with pride, as she talked about the new location and pointed out a few artifacts from the old location.  And I was proud of her (and Christy).  I am amazed that these two ladies - who had the business they had built taken away from them by a greedy developer - persevered and found a way to keep Rumours alive for the past year until they were able to open in a new location.

For me, it goes back to how I felt the night the original Rumours closed.  Rumours is something special.  It's more than a bar or restaurant.  It's not something you can touch, necessarily, but it is something you can feel.  It's a combination of memories, shared conversations with friends and moments of quiet contemplation alone with a glass of wine.  It's familiarity, comfort and a safe haven from the real world and all the craziness that awaits just outside the door.

Jenn McCarthy and Christy Shuff are the creators, protectors and keepers of all of that.  By some minor miracle (and I can't begin to understand it), they managed to save Rumours even as the original building that housed it was being demolished and keep it alive when there was no place it could call home.  Then, against all odds, they built a new home for Rumours.

I felt all of that as I sat at the bar today, sipping my whiskey, smiling.  Happy.  Home.    

My Little Blue One

This is probably the only snow we're going to get in Nashville this winter.  You know, global warming and all that.  Oh, well, these are good photos of J.P.

Spiderman, Standing Up and Fleetwood Mac

What do those three things have to do with one another.  Nothing.  And everything.

Our lives are a kaleidoscope of activities.  The only constant is constant change.

J.P. is all about super heroes, especially Spiderman (which is cool, because I was a big Spiderman fan as a kid).  He's going to be Spiderman for Halloween, months from now, he announced to us last night.  He wants an Iron Man suit for his birthday next month.  Actually, it might be time for me to break out my comic book collection, safely stored (I hope) at my mom's house.

This morning, for the first time, Joey stood up in his crip when he woke up.  Jude got up first, started laughing, and said, "Phil, come here and see this."  I walked into the hall, bleary eyed and groggy, and was greeted by my 11-month old son standing in his crib (still in his sleep sack), holding on to the rail, bouncing up and down.  Just like his brother used to do, back in the day.  Every day, I'm walking down memory lane, as Joey follows J.P.'s path in ways big and small.

This morning, on the way to school, J.P. and I listend to Fleetwood Mac's "Rumors."  The album was released 36 years ago day before yesterday, which in and of itself is hard to fathom.  I had a sense J.P. would like it, in part because Mick Fleetwood's drumming drives several of the songs on the album (Second Hand News, Go Your Own Way).  J.P. loved it, and asked me to play "Second Hand News" several times ("the beginning, please, Daddy).  I love that he loves music.  I especially love that he loves great music.

So much is happening in our lives.  Often we feel like we have no control and we're just along for the ride.  An endless roller coaster, with ups and downs, and a lot of good times along the way.  We can't steer it or stop it but we can enjoy the ride.  Which we do.

It's a beautiful January day.  My boys are healthy, my wife is fantastic and I'm blessed in so many ways.  Now it's out the door at Bongo Java and off to work. 

(this is a morning I'm going to remember, though, a "snapshot" morning full of happiness, gratitude and promise)