Holiday Reflections

I'm sitting in Fido in Hillsboro Village, having a latte and enjoying my status as a Bongo Java Belmont refugee.  Bongo, the center of my universe, has been closed for the past two and half weeks to undergo interior renovations.  I've been roaming in the mornings in search of good coffee - Frothy Monkey, Portland Brew, The Good Cup (Grassland), Fenwick's, 8th and Roast and Fido.  Truthfully, it's been kind of fun to mix things up a bit.

Slowly and sadly, Christmas 2015 is receding into my memory and joining "the ghosts of Christmases past." A little reflection is in order before I head to the office for a meeting.

• In a season filled with highlights, "Great" (Rita White) was missed.  It was our first Christmas without her and she was never far from our thoughts and hearts.  On Christmas Eve, at J.P.'s request, we went to church at St. Henry's, Great's church, where we have attended Christmas Eve Mass the last several years.  It was a fitting tribute to the matriarch of Jude's family and someone J.P. and Joe loved dearly.
• On the way home from Chad White's house, where we had a splendid time celebrating "the White family Christmas" - I overheard Joe ask J.P. the following:  "How does Santa Claus get to the mall?"  J.P. answered, "He drives his car.  I asked him last year and that's what he told me."  Jude and I could barely suppress our giggles in the front seat.
• The next morning, again as we were driving, Joe asked J.P. another pointed question.  "What kind of car does Santa Claus drive to the mall?"  J.P. responded quickly, "A Mercedes.  Just like in the commercial on T.V."  More giggles from Jude and me in the front seat.
• As always, the return of our Elf was highly anticipated by the boys.  They woke up early on December 1 in anticipation of his return and hurried downstairs to look for him.  The ritual of the boys finding the Elf made Jude and me smile every morning.

• Another family tradition was the spirited game of "hide and seek" we played at the Christmas tree lot in Green Hills, where we purchased our Christmas tree.  Always a favorite of J.P., the purchase of the Christmas tree was secondary to the 45 minutes we spent taking turns hiding amongst the frasier firs.
• Because Joe so admired our next door neighbor's inflatable snowman, I ordered a giant inflatable Santa Claus riding in a hot air balloon.  Upon its arrival, I decided it would be cool if our Elf set it up and left the boys a note about it.  One night while the boys slept, Jude assembled it and I zipped over to Edley's, where a bartender with whom I'm friendly - Kara - penned a note to the boys from the Elf.  The next morning, J.P. read the note on the mantle and the boys looked in the front yard, eyes wide with amazement that the Elf had brought our inflatable Santa Claus back from the North Pole.
• On Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, the temperature in Nashville was in the mid-70's.  Nice for playing outside, certainly, but in my mind, ridiculous weather for Christmas.
• On the night of December 23, Jude and I put the boys to bed, then traipsed downstairs to the basement and put together the foosball table the boys were getting for Christmas.  Actually, Jude did most of the putting together, while I served as her assistant and played the video we found of a guy putting the same foosball table together.  Team effort.
• The day after Christmas - December 26 - when Joe got up in the morning, he was ecstatic to see that the foosball table was still downstairs, in the living room.  I was confused until he told me he thought Santa Claus was going to take it back (to the North Pole, presumably) while the boys were asleep on Christmas night.  I guess he thought it was a rental.
• Big hits for Joe this Christmas - the foosball table and "Baseball Guys."  Joe loves J.P.'s "Football Guys" (a gift long ago from former next door neighbors, Deb and Rich Lehrer) and he was really excited to get "Baseball Guys" from Santa Claus.  He's played with it non-stop since Christmas.  For J.P., the biggest hit was his "football gloves" (receiver's gloves), although they're too big for him.  He's enjoyed  his hockey stickers, too.
• For Jude's parent's 47th anniversary, we went to see the Christmas lights at Cheekwood, followed by dinner at the Pineapple Room.  The weather was great and it was an enjoyable night, for sure.  Joe enjoyed watching the trains run outside at the train exhibit and J.P. enjoyed roasting marshmallows an making smores.
• Our friends, Giles, Josephine and their sons, Hugo and Cecil, went to church with us the Sunday before Christmas.  It was J.P.'s favorite Sunday of the year, as he got to help decorate St. Patrick for Christmas.  Cecil joined him and J.P. got a kick out of showing him the ropes.  Afterwards, we went to Martin's BBQ for lunch.  A good Sunday morning.

Overall, another nice Christmas holiday that I'm sad to have behind me.  It was nice, though, to have one more year - maybe the last one - where both boys totally and completely believed in Santa Claus and the magic of Christmas.  I hope, but doubt, that we can squeeze one more Christmas in where we get a buy in from both boys.  But, that's for next December.   

Christmas Eve 2015

It's Christmas Eve in Nashville, Tennessee, and I'm sitting on the side porch of our new house enjoying a ridiculous 66 degree evening.  Global warming?  It feels like it.

The boys are in bed, Jude just went to bed and we're all set for Christmas morning.  The big ticket item this year?  A foosball table for the boys.  It's nice to have room for one, as it fit quite nicely in the playroom upstairs.

It's our first Christmas in the new house, so it feels a little strange (to me, anyway).  Although I'm settling into our new house, I miss our old house, neighbors and neighborhood terribly, especially at this time of year.  Not to be maudlin about it, but we celebrated Christmas there a dozen times.  I know, as time goes on, I'll settle in here, establish new holiday traditions - like sitting on the side porch on Christmas Eve in 66 degree weather - and the new house will become woven into the fabric of my life like the old house was before we moved.

The boys were so excited today and this evening.  "Can you believe Christmas will be here tomorrow morning?  J.P. asked, over and over again.  The boys are so innocent and believing it makes my heart ache because I know the time is rapidly approaching when the holidays won't be that way for them and, by default, for us.  God, it's such a special thing, to share the Christmas season with young children.

So many of my friends have older children - high school and college aged children.  I envy them sometimes, because their lives seem simpler and less demanding.  They have more freedom than Jude and I do.  I worry I won't be able to enjoy my boys high school and college years the way I would like to, because I'll be an older father.  My health is always a concern, more so as I get older.  However, I wouldn't trade anything - not anything - for having the opportunity to celebrate Christmas with J.P. eight times and with Joe four times, counting tomorrow.  God has blessed me.

Merry Christmas, 2015.

Joe

I could take one thousand pictures of Joe and not get one as good as this one.  I took this one at the Children's House Winter Bazaar.  Normally, Joe doesn't like to have his picture taken.  This particular morning, for some reason, he just laughed while I took pictures of him shooting basketball.

'Tis the Season

I'm sitting in a crowded Frothy Monkey on 12th Avenue, near our house, enjoying some Justin Townes Earle on Spotify and a Bell's Two Hearted Ale, while Christmas Day hurtles toward me like a giant asteroid.  Five days away and counting.

I'm not feeling particularly "Christmas-sy," mostly because my office in a state of turmoil due to staffing issues.  Over the past 18 months we have lost at least three staff or employees, two longtime valued members of our team.  It's another post for another day, but suffice to say my theory that you treat staff and employees well and they will reciprocate is way, way off base.  The reality is that to anyone other than Mark, Chas and me, it's just another job, no different, special or better than any other job.  Perhaps that's a bit cynical, but it feels like the truth at the moment.    

J.P. finished up his fall basketball (First Presbyterian Church) league yesterday.  His team lost to a team of Oak Hill boys in a close game for the only blemish on an otherwise perfect fall season.  Truthfully, it was good for his team to lose a game, I think, as they had rolled over all of their other opponents.  The teams were evenly matched and it was fun watching them go at it.  J.P.'s team led until midway through the fourth quarter, when players on the Oak Hill team hit three tough shots in a row.  I think the final was 26-22.

I was proud of J.P., because he was matched up against a taller, older and better player throughout the game.  He scored two or three buckets on J.P. and pushed him around in the lane a bit, but J.P. held  his own.  He played tough, which made me proud.

The highlight of the game, for me, was when Wes (our tallest player) posted his defender up, clapped his hands and demanded the ball.  Of course, our guards didn't throw it to him, but I loved the play for a couple of reasons.  First, Wes is probably the most good natured, laid back player on the team.  For him to clap his hands and demand the ball was a big, big step.  Second, the post up was strong, and it showed me he is learning how to use his body to screen a defender off and get the ball in scoring position.  I love moments like that in  youth sports.

I found myself getting a little more fired up than usual.  At one point, I shouted at J.P. to move his feet on defense and he actually replied, "I am!"  Notwithstanding the fact that he wasn't moving his feet, it made me wonder if, at times, I am a little too demonstrative at games.  Generally, we talk about two or three things for him to work on during games and I try to leave it at that.  It's virtually impossible for me, but I think during the winter season, I'm going to try to watch his games without cheering (loudly), instructing from the sideline, etc.  We'll see how that goes.

After the game, almost the entire team (and parents) went to Edley's on 12th Avenue for brunch.  Great boys, great families.  Jude and I are so lucky to have fallen into this circle of friends - for us and for J.P.  I hope it works the same way with Joe.

Dads and Friends

One of the unexpected pleasures of J.P.'s involvement in sports (baseball, basketball and soccer) has been the number of new friends Jude and I have through our interactions with his teammates' parents.

As I've mentioned in this space before, the same nucleus of boys has stayed together and played all three sports.  It's worked out well, as I've coached fall and spring baseball, with other dads helping me.  I get to watch basketball and soccer, pitching in when needed, while other dads coach those sports.  It's worked well.

It's such a nice thing to walk into the basketball gym - as I did at David Lipscomb Elementary School Saturday morning - and sit down with friends to watch our sons play basketball together.  Parents and grandparents, all of whom know each other and are comfortable with each other, talking and laughing   easily as the game started.

The men who help me coach baseball and who coach J.P. in basketball and soccer are all good, fun, solid family men.  They're guys I would be friends with even if our boys didn't play sports together.  Of course, I wouldn't know them if our boys didn't play sports together.  That's the point, I guess.  Russ, Will, Chris, Dan and Will.  All good guys.

I'm curious if the same type of thing will develop with other parents when Joe starts playing sports this spring, when I coach his baseball team.  I've got a great group of kids and parents lined up to play baseball on our team, but I'm wondering if it will be the same.  I hope so.

Games People Play

When you are blessed beyond measure to have two healthy, active, inquisitive boys, you play a lot of games.  Sure, there's Sorry, Trouble, Candyland (always a staple), Guess Who, UNO and, lately, Life.  What I've been thinking about lately, though, are the games J.P. and Joe have made up and played over the years, with Jude, me or each other.

Usually, these games last for a little while before they're forgotten by the boys, only to be remembered fondly by Jude and me as we recall days and times past.  I thought it might be fun to list and describe a few of these games, in no particular order.

Hallway Hockey

This was a huge game in our old house on Elliott Avenue.  Huge.  From the age of 3 years old, J.P. played hockey in the downstairs hallway of our house.  Over the years, the sticks grew longer until he was using a regulation hockey stick.  For pucks, he used everything from "official" NHL hockey balls to a soft pock to a souvenir hard puck.

The fact that the hallway is not a long one is proof positive that kids will find ways to play games and entertain themselves wherever they are with whatever they have on hand.  The rules were simple, as J.P. would stand at one end of the hallway and try to hit the puck through my (or Jude's) legs.  Then, we would do the same, all while keeping up a running commentary of the game.  J.P. was almost always the Predators and Jude or I would be another team. J.P. always won.

As soon as he was old enough to walk, Joe picked up Hallway Hockey, and he and J.P. played together at time.

Sock Baseball and Pretend Baseball

This is a recent game invented by Joe, after we moved into the new house on Linden Avenue.  I think Joe started playing it during the Vanderbilt baseball team's run to the finals of the College World Series, as we were watching a lot of the game.

In its original incarnation, we played in the den, with a sock for the baseball.  There were 3 positions - catcher, batter and pitcher - and we all took turns playing each position.  The catcher sat in one of my "man chairs," with the batter standing next to him.  The pitcher "pitched" the sock and the batter hit it with his hand.  Then, the pitcher got the sock and tried to hit the batter with it as he (or she) ran through the den, kitchen or bedroom.  You get the picture, right?

The more comical version of the game involves the same rules, but with no sock for a baseball.  It's truly "pretend baseball" and can be played anywhere.  Literally anywhere.  We've played it at restaurants, parties, J.P.'s baseball or soccer games, the beach, etc.

Home Run Derby

We haven't played this a lot, but man is it fun!  J.P. and I took our wiffle ball bat and several balls (with one piece of blue electrical tape strategically placed on the middle of the ball) to the large, grassy, sunken courtyard of sorts at the old apartment complex on Belmont Boulevard, down from Bongo Java.  We set up home plate so the batter, when he made good contact, could hit a home run over the wall and onto the sidewalk or into the street (Belmont Boulevard).  As an added incentive, I told J.P. I would buy him a Las Paletas popsicle for every home run he hit.  Good stuff.

Upside Down Basketball and Alley Oop Basketball

Man, this was one of my all time favorite games in the old house.  In what can only be described as a stroke of creative genius, Carley (our nanny and friend) set up a small basketball court in J.P.'s room, complete with tape on the floor for a free throw line and a 3-point line.  J.P.'s room wasn't big and the basketball court was wedged between the end of his bed and a chest of drawers.  The basketball goal (a modern day version of a Nerf hoop from my childhood) was attached to a door that opened up into a small crawl space.  The door itself was about half the size of a normal door, like something a hobbit might walk through, so it was the perfect height for 3-year old J.P. and, later, Joe.

I think that basketball goal provided J.P. and Joe with more hours of entertainment than anything in our old house.  Initially, J.P. couldn't reach the rim, as hard as he would try.  As he grew older and taller, he was able to dunk the plastic basketball, tentatively at first, then with authority.  We reenacted many, many NBA and SEC basketball games, complete with the announcement of starting lineups, jump balls, halftime speeches and lots of basketball.  It was awesome.

J.P. and I invented a game called "upside down basketball."  To play, he or I laid down on his bed, with our head at the foot of the bed, near the basketball.  And we tried to make a basket upside down. If he or I hit a basket, the other "dog piled" the shooter on the bed.

Later, we played lots of "alley oop basketball," where I laid on J.P.'s bed and threw him countless alley oops that dunked in the basketball goal.  Bounce pass alley oops, off the wall alley oops, etc.  Hours of fun.

One of the saddest moments of our move, for me, was when I pulled up the blue tape from the basketball court in J.P.'s room.  It had been there so long that it stripped the finish off the wooden floor so I could see where the basketball court had been.  Fitting, I think.

The End of the Innocence

(originally written on my iPad on Saturday, October 17, 2015)

It's an exquisite Saturday afternoon in Nashville, truly one of the perfect days of the year weather-wise.  At long last, summer has officially turned to fall.  The temperature this morning was in the low-40's and now, at 3:30 p.m., it's 59 degrees.  Perfect.

I'm sitting at Edley's BBQ in 12South, having a Calfkiller Grassroots APA.  For maybe the last time - ever - Joe is alongside in the stroller, sleeping contentedly in what is quickly turning into a crowded bar.  I can't remember the last time I took him out for a stroll and a nap in the City Elite.  Truth be told, I thought these lazy afternoons were gone forever, as he almost always naps (or doesn't, depending on his mood) in his bed at home.

Today, J.P. had a midday soccer game - his last of the season - and Tracy, Matthew, Kaitlyn and my mom stopped by the house for lunch afterwards.  When they left, I coaxed Joe into the stroller with the promise of watching "the Eggs" (a Thomas the Train "claymation sort of" video we discovered on Youtube) after he woke up from his nap.  Now, here we are again, Joe and me, occupying a place in time we've occupied so many times over the last 3 1/2 years.

Looking around at Edley's - it's packed - I'm reminded of how much I love living where I live, in a vibrant neighborhood in a city where I can walk to restaurants, bars, coffee shops and a park.  The youthful energy in Edley's today is palpable.  On the televisions in the bar, I can choose from the MLP Playoffs (Toronto - Kansas City) or a myriad of college football games (Michigan-Michigan Stae [the resurgence of UM with Jim Harbaugh at the helm]; Alabama-Texas A & M ['Bama is still 'Bama]; and OU-Kansas State.  Lots of couples, friends, football fans of various schools and a few families, eating a late lunch, drinking beer or just hanging out on the patio on a Saturday afternoon in 12South.

And me, with Joe, sitting at a table in the bar typing away on my iPad.

Sometime, many times, really I do love my life.  Now is one of those times.  I live in the hottest part of the "IT" city.  How lucky am I?

It's 2015, late in the year.  Beards are back in a big way.  Not just beards, but unkempt, out of control beards.  Craft beer is huge.  In middle Tennessee, anyway, everyone wants to live in the city, inside the perimeter.  Our neighborhood - Belmont/12South is teeming with activity.  On every block, there are houses being razed or renovated.  New restaurants or businesses are opening up every day.  It's unbelievable.

Jude is redecorating our house on Linden Avenue, room by room, slowly but surely.  I've got an estimate to hang new televisions, wire surround sound, re-cable the basement and improve our wifi capabilities, all of which should be done by the end of the month.  I'm working on screening in our back porch.  In short, it appears we're city mice for the long haul, which is completely fine by me.

It's a kick watching Spencer behind the bar at Edley's.  He spends most of his time at Edley's BBQ East (Nashville) these days, unlike the old days, when he was at Edley's BBQ in 12South almost every day.  He's the right kind of bartender - for me, anyway.  He can make any drink known to man, he's always in a good mood and he never forgets a name.  Most importantly, he'll have a drink with you late in his shift, must for a good bartender in my book.

So, back to my man, Joe.  He's at Children's House this fall, which is awesome.  Every day he comes home singing new songs and using new words.  Lately, he's starting saying things like "S-S-S-Snake. Snake starts with an S."  So cool.  I'm finishing my last year on the Board of Directors at Children's House, so I'm pretty tuned into what's going on there.  God, I love that place.  I'm so happy Joe is there, in Classroom B, with Ms. Michele and Ms. Tess.  At night, he talks about his new friends - Pike, Molly, Owen, Alp, Theo - the list goes on and on.  It's pretty special and I'm glad Joe is there five days a week.

I'm also happy Joe is with Carley for the afternoons on Tuesday and Thursday.  I wouldn't want it any other way.  Carley has been such an important part of J.P.'s and Joe's lives for so long.  That's an entire blog post in its own right, truly, but who much if who they are is who she is and that's fabulous.

Soon, in some ways, too soon, Joe will begin playing sports (baseball this spring), having play dates, then starting school presumably at USN.  And these special, quiet, contemplative afternoons will be gone, never to return except in the recesses of my memory.  Afternoons like this, a cacophony of voices and happy noises enveloping us in a warm, comforting cocoon in a bar where I call the bartenders my friends, where I can enjoy a respite from my busy life, drinking beer while Joe naps in the City Elite, they will fade away completely.  And I'll be sad, although I'll treasure these happy memories for the rest of my days.

First J.P., then Joe, and me, strolling through the neighborhood, destination Bongo Java, Frothy Monkey, Belmont U., Mafiozza's, 12South Tap Room, PM, Boulevard, Chago's Cantina, etc.  So many places, so many weekend afternoons, so my miles traveled, so many idyllic timeouts from the daily grind that is, at time, my life.  Just me and one of my boys, stopping or at least slowing down life for an hour or two.  Again, and again and again.