That's me. I move through the house with nary a care for the usefulness or emotional attachment we have to the object. If my house will show better without the object, then that object is already halfway out the door. Today is bulk pickup garbage day. Things like, say, broken chairs in the basement which were waiting for me to fix, are no longer in the basement and no longer waiting for me to fix them. To the curb. Old vacuum cleaner we (well, I) were keeping in anticipation of having it fixed to keep upstairs as a second vacuum, to the curb. I admit a small pang as I looked at it on the grass. We bought it a long time ago when we had different lives and were living in a different town. It brought back some nice memories.

That's the thing about objects. The reason you've kept half of this garbage is because it reminds you of things, of times past, of when you were a different person. When you were young and married and had no real responsibilities. The vacuum, by way of example, reminded me of all of the apartments I used it in. Vacuuming was always my chore. My wife hated it but did not mind cleaning the bathroom, something I hated. So I used that vacuum in a house in New Orleans (where we bought it at Sears) and in an apartment on the Upper West Side and another apartment on the Upper East Side and then the house, where it quit after some 12 years of faithful service.

So, just because I was ruthless does not mean that I was not reflective and maybe a little bit sad. I liked the people my wife and I were when that vacuum was young. I miss them, sometimes. Life was simpler then and our options seemed without limit. Now, our lives are much more complicated and our options more constrained. That comes just with growing older and having kids. I love my kids and I wouldn't trade them for anything but I miss the feeling that the possibility of the future as this limitless adventure is, if not gone, waving bye-bye.

That feeling has not been moved to the curb, but it may just be a matter of time.

Geez, I never would have suspected that old vacuum cleaner had so much life left in it.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:45 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Hannah is our second interview and I think ought to be very interesting, considering she lives in the Netherlands but hails from New York. Some herring with attitude, it strikes me.

I will ask her five questions below and she will respond on her blog, let me know, and I will link to her answers. Actually, though, I'm posing six questions in case she doesn't want to answer any one question. So, Hannah, you can pick and choose or answer them all. I leave it up to you, entirely.

Anyway, here are the questions and a link to the rules, which Hannah has to include on her page:

1. How many magazines do you subscribe to? Which one is your favorite and why? Which one is your guilty pleasure?

2. How old were you when you moved to the Netherlands and what was the process of cultural adjustment like for you? The biggest shock?

3. If you went skydiving, would you jump or would they have to push you and why?

4. Why do you blog? What do you get out of it?

5. What is the biggest risk you've ever taken and how did it turn out?

6. What piece of literature has had the greatest impact on your life and why? Should I read it, too?

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:52 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 Hey, I'm not from New York! I've been there exactly once: when I stopped in La Gaurida (sp?) airport! :-P Going to answer questions!

Posted by: Hannah at March 31, 2005 11:37 AM (0tNIc)

2 Oops, my bad. Sorry about that. I wonder why I thought you were from NY?

Posted by: RP at March 31, 2005 01:24 PM (LlPKh)

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Indigo has answered her interview questions and I highly recommend going to read them. At a minimum, you will learn something really cool about traditional Indian dance.

Thanks, Indigo!

Tune in tomorrow for the next subject.

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1 Nice questions for Indigo... can't wait for the next subject. Wait a sec - that's me, isn't it?

Posted by: Hannah at March 31, 2005 08:51 AM (zr6mn)

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In a panic, last night, I realized that if we are well and truly going to be putting our house on the market next week *GULP*, this might be the last recycling day between now and that date. Therefore, it was incumbent upon me to race around the house and ruthlessly reduce the old magazines which were cluttering up the whole house, stashed in lopsided piles in odd corners and in each bathroom and the guest room and next to my bed and, well, you get the idea. In a burst of energy, I rounded up something like 9 shopping bags full of old Sports Illustrated, Architectural Digest, Consumer Reports, Westchester and NY Magazines, and various other random publications and conveyed them to the curb for disposal.

I have barely scratched the surface, I realize, of what needs to be done to make the house ready to show, but it felt good to get started.

Tomorrow, I'm afraid (and I really mean afraid), may be the last bulk garbage disposal opportunity before the house lists. Thus, tonight may be a really late night as I attempt to make some snap decisions about what stays, what goes, and what gets run to the curb tonight.

All the fun and drama of packing up an entire house but compressed into 2 nights.

In the back of my mind, I hear my late grandmother's voice, passing along the words she used to tell my mother when my mother was sent off to clean up her room: Be ruthless.

Wish me luck, for it is against everything holy for a pack rat to be ruthless.

By the way, how come nobody is ever told to be "ruth" anymore? How come ruth fell out of the language except as a first name?

Posted by: Random Penseur at 11:42 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment
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1 I feel your pain, RP! My philosphy has always been to keep something in case I need it. I think that perspective underpins George Carlin's quip that a house is just a place to store all your crap. Then, as you add more stuff, you need a bigger house. So you're not alone.

Posted by: GrammarQueen at March 30, 2005 05:09 PM (glf8i)

2 well....it could be a middle name

Posted by: standing naked at March 30, 2005 07:03 PM (6FCAy)

3 Good luck with that. I'm also a fellow pack rat. I used to rent the house I am in now, but when my landlord put it on the market I decided buying it was easier than cleaning out the basement.

Posted by: nic at March 30, 2005 07:36 PM (etHvD)

4 lol, nic. I was a pack rat all my life until my last move, three years ago. I finally let so much stuff go -- stuff I'd been carrying with me whereever I went since friggin' college! A U-Haul full of crap went to the Asylum Street dump. (Well, not FULL, of course, but, y'know...) It was very liberating and refreshing.

Posted by: Tuning Spork at March 30, 2005 09:21 PM (GIVbO)

5 Y'all get it. It is tough to dispose of some of these things. Ruthless, I tell you, ruthless.

Posted by: RP at March 30, 2005 09:39 PM (X3Lfs)

6 How abuot you set one really big box aside and put stuff that you want to keep in there? What doesn't fit, goes? Worth a try.

Posted by: Hannah at March 31, 2005 08:35 AM (zr6mn)

7 Living in Asia taught me how to live with just essentials (as everybody else did) in a simple and uncluttered way. I have tried to keep that lesson alive living here. It is truly freeing, thought at times when I look around I feel that I still have too much. You will be in my prayers to receive a ruthlessness few have ever seen. May you be liberated of your Pack!

Posted by: michele at March 31, 2005 09:24 AM (ht2RK)

8 I am ruthful over your impending material tragedy.

Posted by: Jim at March 31, 2005 11:03 AM (tyQ8y)

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Indigo boldly stepped up to the plate for the first interview. I will ask her five questions below and she will respond on her blog, let me know, and I will link to her answers. Actually, though, I'm posing six questions in case she doesn't want to answer any one question. So, Indigo, you can pick and choose or answer them all. I leave it up to you, entirely.

The Questions:

1. What was the biggest surprise to you about coming to NY? What do you miss most about Hawaii?

2. You are a dancer in a particular field I am only a tiny bit aware of and thatÂ’s only because of you. Can you explain the field and what you derive from it?

3. Have your politics changed since Sept. 11? If so, how?

4. Has the internet brought people closer together or made it easier to maintain isolation?

5. Why do you blog? What do you get out of it?

6. What bad habit do you have that you wish you didn't?

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So, this should be fun. Our interviewees have been (self)selected and include, in the order they responded:

1. Indigo

2. Hannah

3. Dee

4. Angie

5. Helen

and because he asked so nicely to be included

6. John.

These people represent a really interesting cross section and I think it will be great fun to interview them. Stay tuned as I invent some questions for their amusement.

The rules are that you answer the questions on your site, include the rules as I did in my link, and I will link to your responses here on my blog.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:20 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Kathy, at Cake Eater Chronicles, has kindly consented to interview me and even more kindly did not impose any time limits on my answers. So, a day later than I would have liked, I herewith reply below the jump. Here are the questions:

1. You're a corporate litigator. The lawyers I used to work with would occasionally become tired of cleaning up other people's messes---and would whine about it. If you could, what would you say to a particularly idiotic client if you didn't have to fear the loss of their billable hours?

2. You live and work in the NYC metropolitan area. For those of us who have never been, explain the pros and cons of living and working in that city.

3. If you could become a cat burglar, and were able to access (albeit illegally) any musuem in the world, knowing that a. what you're choosing to steal is for your personal pleasure and b. you wouldn't be caught, what piece of art would you choose to steal and why?

4. You're an anonymous blogger. Why did you choose to blog anonymously? Do you feel it gives you more leeway to write certain things than if you attached your name to your work? Do you ever feel the compulsion to fib to your readers, knowing full well that they'd have no idea if you were telling the truth or not?

5. Name your all-time favorite book. Why do you love it so?

By the way, this is part of a meme (a concept I find fascinating, like the way a bad virus takes over the body) and here are the rules:

Leave me a comment saying “interview me”. The first five commenters will be the participants. I will respond by asking you five questions. You will update your blog/site with the answers to the questions. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions. (Write your own questions or borrow some.)

If you're interested in my answers to Kathy's excellent questions, read on in extended entry below:
more...

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:38 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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1 And thank you for answering them so well! Great job!

Posted by: Kathy at March 29, 2005 11:10 AM (Tosbv)

2 i wouldn't mind an interview considering i've been plum out of inspiration for weeks.... perhaps you could jumpstart somethin for me.. (?) =) indy

Posted by: Indigo at March 29, 2005 02:07 PM (5PkrR)

3 ooooh, me, me, me! And I loved reading your answers!

Posted by: Hannah at March 29, 2005 02:09 PM (0d7ig)

4 I loved it! Great idea!

Posted by: dee at March 29, 2005 02:46 PM (sZnML)

5 I'm game too.

Posted by: Angie at March 29, 2005 02:55 PM (FlWAT)

6 Count me in

Posted by: Helen at March 29, 2005 03:25 PM (1i2pB)

7 And I was sure you'd pick the Laughing Cavalier as your 'stolen pleasure'. Thanks for sharing your answers!

Posted by: GrammarQueen at March 29, 2005 04:48 PM (XzHwx)

8 Excellent interview. Yep, the architecture in the city is great. And yer a Munch fan! Kewl!

Posted by: Tuning Spork at March 29, 2005 11:01 PM (shq3M)

9 Interesting answers. Too bad I'm the ninth commenter; I would have been interested to see which questions you would send my way.

Posted by: JohnL at March 30, 2005 01:06 AM (gplif)

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The Boy Child has plenty of words, but he never uses them in combination, never forms a sentence. I have not really formed a view as to his intellect. I mean, he seems to be all there but who can tell? This weekend changed that. By way of background, his maternal grandmother, (mor mor, in Norwegian), lives in Central America right now and speaks perfect Spanish. When the Boy Child, who is just barely two years old, says her name, he pronounces it as "moo moo". Not uncommon for little Norwegian children to say that, I'm told. By way of comparison, he now calls my father, "dude". My father loves that.

So, we were all sitting around the dinner table, playing around, singing the Sesame Street song, when I turned to the Boy Child and we had the following exchange:

Me: Donde esta Plaza Sesamo?

BC: Moo Moo. [as if to say, go ask Moo Moo].

Me: [stunned silence as my wife and I look at each other and I say to my wife] Was that an accident? Do you think he did that on purpose?

Wife: I have no idea.

Me: [to boy child] Hvem er det som snakker Spansk? [translation from Norwegian: who is it who speaks Spanish?]

BC: [confidently, shaking his head for emphasis] Moo moo.

If I had any doubts about him, they are gone as of now. Da Boy is all there.

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1 Multi-lingual children have a different language acquisition curve than mono-linguals. However, studies have shown that by the age of 5 they are incredibly fast at learning additional languages and are able to retain and process more information than mono-lingual children. You just may have a little Einstein on your hands... the quiet, shy, observant, retiring type.

Posted by: michele at March 28, 2005 06:04 PM (ht2RK)

2 Hmmm. Michele might be onto something. The shaking of the head for emphasis might be frustration that you've asked him such a simple question as if to say "Yo, dude. Do not patronize me!" Heh. BTW, and just from my own memories of growing up, I think that "Do you understand?" is a horrible question to be asked in any context. If a kid doesn't get it s/he'll say "Huh?!". Asking it will usually be taken as either an insult or an assault, depending on the context. But, maybe that's just me...

Posted by: Tuning Spork at March 28, 2005 10:51 PM (SmuPE)

3 I have no statistics to give you; but I'll just say that it's been my experience that up until about age five, they're sponges. In fact, I spoke perfect -- without a hint of an accent -- Spanish at age 5 with a woman hired to take care of me and my little brother. We were forced into other arrangements and went to a daycare situation. I no longer can speak Spanish like a native. (I can, however, understand far more than I can speak which, is an advantage of sorts. Heh.) I never had a doubt your BC was as whip-smart as your GC. It's good genes, buddy. Good genes.

Posted by: Margi at March 29, 2005 03:37 AM (lWAiX)

4 I've found from both experience and observation that the second child in the family often isn't as verbally motivated as the first-born. After all, if the first-born can talk for them, (and first borns *love* to talk for their sibs, don't they?) why bother? *grins* Has zip to do with intelligence. My son let his sister talk for him for a very long time. He's now 23 and, believe me, he has grown into one of the smartest people I've ever had the privilege to know. My brother didn't walk for a very long time. Why? Everyone carried him about; why bother? Finally he got so large, my mom couldn't cart him about so easily anymore so one day he just stood up and walked over to whatever it was he wanted, much to everyone's shock. And he just kept walking after that. When he got to school, he tested with a 165 IQ. Today he is an accomplished musician and has been very successful. My Dan, the second-born in his family, didn't talk at all until he was three years old. Again, he had an older sister who had filled in for him when necessary. Dan also has a high IQ and I know you've read his blog; he's an articulate guy today. :-) Sounds like Da Boy is more than "all there" to me. :-)

Posted by: Amber at March 29, 2005 02:33 PM (zQE5D)

5 That's a great story, he sounds very smart indeed. My little guy surprises us all the time, and he's exactly like BC, he gets frustrated if you can't understand him, or ask him if he understands, or repeat something that he knows to him. Yesterday he made us laugh, I asked him where his bottle was he said "In the place I go ny ny". He's 2 1/2 but he knows where all his stuff is, unless of course someone has moved it on him.

Posted by: Oorgo at March 30, 2005 12:58 PM (lM0qs)

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The difference is the amount of stress and the sheer terror that sometimes accompanies the purchase of a new house and the immediate, and chilling, obligation to get your current house in shape and on the market. I have spent the day alternating between stressed out, temple throbbing, chest pounding anxiety and fatalistic acceptance that I am slowly pushing down a major commitment which will absolutely, no question about it, be a big mistake. Why a big mistake? Because at least right now, in my current house, I understand and appreciate what I don't like and what is not suitable. In a new house, in a new town, and in the state next door, all that is unforeseen and unappreciated. Besides, I think that deep down I really loathe change. Also, I pretty much hate debt and debt is a new best buddy.

Hence my silence today. Too much time being freaked out and unhappy. I have also done no work today of any kind professionally speaking.

Did I mention that we found a house that we really loved this weekend and can't quite afford but are planning to buy anyway? I may have left that out.

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1 "alternating between stressed out, temple throbbing, chest pounding anxiety and fatalistic acceptance that I am slowly pushing down a major commitment which will absolutely, no question about it, be a big mistake." You are describing the exact emotional process I went through with this apartment. Perhaps that's why I still live here 15 years later?

Posted by: michele at March 28, 2005 06:01 PM (ht2RK)

2 deep breath a long...slow...deep...breath

Posted by: standing naked at March 28, 2005 06:51 PM (6FCAy)

3 "...we found a house that we really loved this weekend and can't quite afford but are planning to buy anyway?" Isn't that the American way? Congrats, RP. Can I have your old one?

Posted by: Howard at March 28, 2005 07:00 PM (+uhx9)

4 Find your happy place, RP. It's somewhere in the Berkshires, right?

Posted by: Jim at March 29, 2005 10:01 AM (tyQ8y)

5 Howard, you really want the old one? I'd be happy to talk about it. Michelle, I think you know how I feel at this point. No, Jim, I don't think I have a happy place anymore. Maybe bed. With the covers pulled over my freaking head.

Posted by: RP at March 29, 2005 10:53 AM (LlPKh)

6 If it's your dream home... go for it! What are the Berkshires? You can tell I don't know much about da city. :-P

Posted by: Hannah at March 29, 2005 02:13 PM (0d7ig)

7 Oop! Can't believe I missed this post. So, where are ya headed?!!!

Posted by: Tuning Spork at March 29, 2005 11:06 PM (shq3M)

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Religious holidays are odd things. They are so many different things to so many different people. I have no idea if anyone reading this will be celebrating Easter this year, or if they are, whether they will sit awhile and think about the deeper significance of the holy day (where do you think the word holiday comes from, hmmn?) but I hope they do. We'll be watching our kids run around picking up eggs. I'll be the guy with the Bloody Mary in his hand.

So, that said, if you are celebrating Easter this weekend, I wish you a happy, peaceful and meaningful holy day.

And maybe, just maybe, you'll spare a thought for Terry Schiavo. Mark at Irish Elk has provided very thought provoking coverage.

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Like now. I owe you all an update on the visit to England and dinner with Helen, etc. I can't do it right now, I fear. I was in Atlanta all day yesterday and returned on a very, very delayed flight. I walked in to find my wife telling me how much our daughter was looking forward to seeing us all at her school for her Purim party. *gulp* I am bad parent. I forgot about the Purim party. I did not go to work this morning. Instead, I went to Purim party, more on that later, as well. I have been playing catch up at work ever since.

I will leave you with the words that the Girl Child dictated as she pretended to write a letter and she closed it out:

Gratefully yours,

Love you,

Bye.

She assures me that is how she ends all her letters.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 03:49 PM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 Happy Purim!

Posted by: Jim at March 25, 2005 09:11 AM (MDLz3)

2 Hmm... purim ... something to look up. Glad you're back in one piece.

Posted by: Hannah at March 26, 2005 06:13 AM (0d7ig)

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Yay, Wales! I am informed that the title of this post is a cheer at Welsh rugby matches (if informed incorrectly, please let me know). Among the things I did in London was spend two hours in a pub on a beautiful day drinking with friends and watching as Wales beat up on Ireland in the finals of the Six Nations Rugby Tournament (also caught the end of France/Italy). It used to be the Five Nations. In fact, the Five Celtic Nations. Now Italy's joined. Let's just say the Italian Rugby Team has a ways to go.

This is the first time since 1978 that Wales has won the tournament with a grand slam (all the matches). The first time in 22 years that they have managed to beat Ireland at home in Wales. Wales exploded in joy after the match.

And it was a very exciting match, too.

Rugby is an excellent sport to watch. You cannot believe, if youÂ’ve never seen it, how fast and strong the top players are. And how they fling themselves about with almost no regard for their personal safety. There was quite a bit of blood on the field. Oh, and injury care? That seemed mostly to involve a 30 second application of an ice pack. That's it.

My favorite anecdote about 6 Nations? The Welsh team is sponsored by Brains beer and wear, on their shirts, the name: Brains.

The French prohibit advertising on the pitch so the Welsh replaced the word Brains on their jerseys with the word: Brawn. Excellent, no?

So, join me and lift a glass to the 2005 Six Nations Rugby Champions!

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I am back from England where I had a wonderful time (more on that later) and trying to prepare for a meeting in a far off city tomorrow. I am working very hard to pretend that jet lag is a theoretical malady that afflicts others, not me. And I have a theory. For the first time, I actually have concocted a theory about jet lag and the is it worse here (US) or there (Europe) debate. My theory is that jet lag is simply worse wherever you are returning to. When you go to a place, you suffer less from jet lag because of the excitement about the travel, especially if the travel is holiday (vacation) related. You arrive and are up early and are out the door, buzzed to get going and do stuff. You ignore the jet lag, pretend it isn't there.

But then you get home. And you don't pretend the jet lag isn't there. You can't. In fact, your mind keeps returning to vacation and you think to yourself that, gee, its noon here but its five o'clock back in London. And since your mind keeps going back that way, and you keep imagining yourself back in London (or wherever), you magnify and intensify the jet lag.

That's my theory, in a nutshell.

I tried to put it into practice. I set my watch as soon as I got on the plane to come home. I dragged myself out of bed at the usual time and went to the gym and did the usual hard workout. I came to work. I have thought nothing about what time it might be in London.

And you know what? I'm pretty wrecked actually. But it has nothing to do with jet lag. Nope, according to my theory, I'm totally over that.

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Well, not really. At least, not fishing.

Nope, off to merry old England as of tomorrow morning. Just me, no wife, no kids, no car seats, no strollers, no diaper bags. Just me and a new book on the history of the Late Roman Empire I picked up last night in the bookstore. I will have 6 (or so) glorious economy class hours all to myself to read without interruption. I guarantee that this is the part of the trip my wife envies me the most for. I know that I have envied her that part when she has gone on business trips. Solitude. *sigh* I cannot wait for some solitude. Not too much, mind you, just a couple of hours.

Expected highlights of the trip to come:

*Dinner with Helen and Angus on Friday night! I am looking forward to this tremendously and am only sorry my wife cannot join us.

*A moment to pay my respects to the Laughing Cavalier (Franz Hals) at the Wallace Collection, where he lives. He is one of my all time favorite portraits:

I'm sure you can see why. Actually, permit me a slight digression. Among the things I love about this painting are the twinkle in his eye, like he is sharing a joke with us, not laughing at us and the gorgeous clothes he is wearing. I have read that Flemish painters in the 1600's, when this was painted, used to get their commissions from rich Flemish wool merchants and they were famous for providing stunning and luxurious fabrics to the rest of Europe. Such that, Flemish painters used their portraits, in part, as an advertisement for the Flemish fabric trade and painted these stunning clothes in these fabulous textures and colors -- rich brocade, deep velvets, heavy silks, etc. Next time you see a Flemish painted portrait of a well off woman, take a close look at the clothes. That depiction will knock you out. I promise.

*Lunch with my old fencing master! A very dear man, in his 70's now.

*Hanging out time with some of my bestest friends from law school, people who rented the other half of the house we lived in for 2 years.

*A visit to the National Portrait Gallery.

*A trip to the British Museum to see some treasured old pals: The Elgin Marbles; the Assyrian collection; the Magna Carta; and any other damn thing I want to see!

*A wedding on Sunday!

*Some time in the bookstores, getting my wife her perfume, maybe picking up a new tie or two if the exchange rate doesn't absolutely frighten me away first.

*and finally, walking around to my heart's content, taking pictures of the splendid buildings and just being happy about being in London.

When a man grows tired of London, etc.

Wish me a safe trip, if you would be so kind, and look for my reports next week.

Pax tibi!

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:21 AM | Comments (18) | Add Comment
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1 Bon Voyage RP!!!! Have a safe, FUN journey. Tally Ho!

Posted by: Wicked H at March 16, 2005 09:28 AM (iqFar)

2 Quid pro quo! We leave for Greece on Friday, part of a group of 46 people. Best of luck to you, have a lovely time, and can't wait to read all about it when we get back!

Posted by: Mandalei at March 16, 2005 09:59 AM (LcyhB)

3 sounds delightful! enjoy every minute and travel safe ;-)

Posted by: standing naked at March 16, 2005 10:22 AM (6FCAy)

4 Happy Londoning, RP. Here's hoping an incomplete brief doesn't land in your desk at 4:50 this afternoon.

Posted by: d at March 16, 2005 12:05 PM (W72TL)

5 in = on. Whatever...

Posted by: d at March 16, 2005 12:06 PM (W72TL)

6 Tell Helen and Angus I said "hi"! Oh, and take lots of pictures of the Motherland while you're over there! Btw, YOU had a fencing master? AWESOME! Another skill I regret never learning...it looks so...so...graceful yet dangerous. They offer it at our health club; I really should look into it. Enjoy and have fun. :-) Looking forward to your report; two of my fav bloggers meeting IRL. Wow!

Posted by: Amber at March 16, 2005 12:22 PM (zQE5D)

7 Have a safe & enjoyable trip, RP! We'll miss you.

Posted by: GrammarQueen at March 16, 2005 12:38 PM (glf8i)

8 Wish I could tag along. I've always wanted to go to London with someone who knew their way around. As it stands right now, I'll be going to LaPlace, Louisiana instead. wahoo. Maybe next time.

Posted by: Howard at March 16, 2005 02:20 PM (X88j1)

9 Wishing you safe voyaging, a delightful trip and a happy return.

Posted by: Jim at March 16, 2005 04:20 PM (tyQ8y)

10 Here's wishing you a safe trip! May you come back with many happy memories! And cool stories!

Posted by: Tuning Spork at March 16, 2005 09:44 PM (Hs51V)

11 First round's on you, right? Hi Amber! *waves*

Posted by: Helen at March 17, 2005 04:24 AM (Vd6WF)

12 I echo each and every one of the previous sentiments -- and please do me the honor of hugging Helen's neck for me? For your entire trip, I shall be writhing around in jealousy.

Posted by: Margi at March 17, 2005 04:41 PM (lWAiX)

13 So jealous. Soooo jealous. Oh, jealous of the trip to England too. What was the title of the Roman history book? And was it any good? Safe travels.

Posted by: JL at March 18, 2005 08:59 AM (2uXM4)

14 Bon Voyage - and I hope you don't get that moron that always seems to plunk himself down next to me on flights - You know, the idiot that won't stop chattering incessantly?

Posted by: Mark at March 18, 2005 04:59 PM (3juJU)

15 I was about to envy you when I thought to myself: isn't London very wet towards the end of winter? Hope you enjoy the mueseum treasures and your friends. Hope you stay dry and return safely. Looking forward to reading your annecdotes.

Posted by: michele at March 19, 2005 09:00 PM (ht2RK)

16 Michele, the weather has been so unbelievable. It's amazing. Sun, warm, people running around in shorts and miniskirts. We may never let our good luck charm RP leave!

Posted by: Helen at March 21, 2005 07:17 AM (MmtAs)

17 Michele, the weather has been so unbelievable. It's amazing. Sun, warmth, people running around in shorts and miniskirts. We may never let our good luck charm RP leave!

Posted by: Helen at March 21, 2005 07:17 AM (MmtAs)

18 Thanks for all the excellent comments. A full report will be forthcoming.

Posted by: RP at March 22, 2005 03:10 PM (LlPKh)

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I need it to be yesterday. I need for the partner who had the other half of the brief in opposition to which we were preparing a reply brief, to have come to me yesterday to say that he needed me to pick up an extra point to write on, not today. I need to have him be responsible, like I was, and have gotten his shit done three days in advance, like I did. I loathe the last minute brief. Especially when we had over two weeks and dick all else to do but this critically important brief. I'm just hunting for a break.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 03:28 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Yes, that's right. The bloom is off the rose. I will illustrate by relating the following conversation this morning:

Girl Child: [throws her socks up in the air in the kitchen while I have my coffee and NY Times]

Me: Don't throw things around in the kitchen.

GC: Why not?

Me: Because the kitchen is probably the most dangerous room in the house.

GC: Why?

Me: Because there are things that could burn you here, things that could cut you, things that you could knock over and . . . [GC walks out]

Wife in dining room: What was Pappa saying to you?

GC to wife: I don't know, something about the kitchen. [tone, according to my wife, like a 13 year old]

Remember, she just turned four. I am so screwed.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:14 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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1 *LOL* at least you realise already. I think it came as a total shock to my father.

Posted by: Mia at March 13, 2005 08:33 AM (yLho4)

2 Oh NOOOOO! Better get your attitude going right back! Just wait until the teen years hit!

Posted by: Mark at March 13, 2005 05:14 PM (AvjW+)

3 *snickersnort*

Posted by: Margi at March 14, 2005 07:18 AM (lWAiX)

4 Yes you are! *grins* What fun, eh? ;-)

Posted by: Amber at March 14, 2005 11:41 AM (zQE5D)

5 Yeah... I feel the exact same, yesterday my 2 year old told me he doesn't like me anymore, because I turned off his Thomas the Train DVD. Of course the grudge only lasted about 15 minutes, but still...

Posted by: Oorgo at March 14, 2005 01:34 PM (lM0qs)

6 LOL, smart as a whip and full of spunk! You are in for it!!!!

Posted by: Rachel Ann at March 15, 2005 04:01 AM (TgJbS)

7 Maybe you're just getting it now and she'll be over it by then? What if the second one is just as "spunky"? Then you'll really have your hands full!

Posted by: Hannah at March 15, 2005 03:01 PM (7dELN)

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The nanny is gone for most of the week. Yesterday, my mother hosted the kids and will again on Friday. Today, however, I stayed home from work to be primary caregiver. It was like playing house, it was/is that much fun. The kids are napping right now, that's why I can write for a minute.

It has also been a huge tease -- showing me what my life could be like if I was independently wealthy and I didnÂ’t have to work outside the house. Showing me how much fun my kids are, even if it is hard work.

I got them both up, gave them breakfast, played, loaded them into the car and took the Girl Child off to school. On the way, I changed the radio station from the crap pop that the nanny listens to and found some very nice jazz. I asked the Girl Child if she liked it and she said she did so we played a game trying to name the instruments. She claimed that one of them was a “Flutootle”. Clearly a flute, in her mind. It was a bass, actually, but that’s ok. We dropped her off where I, the only dad there that day, was absolutely snubbed by all the stay at home moms. That was ok, too. Sort of. I mean, I knew some of them from various birthday parties even if I was not a part of their daily school routine. But I expected more of a hello and maybe that was expecting too much. Whatever. My kids were cuter (damn, that was petty).

Then the Boy Child and I, after he gave his sister something like 6 kisses, headed off to a really good liquor store in Scarsdale in search, still, of white port for my wife. No success there but picked up a half a case of some really yummy looking assorted Italian and Spanish reds. And a bottle of Fino Sherry for my wife as an attempt at a substitute. The Boy Child got to stand the whole time in the shopping cart and was just happy to be there. We went home with our booze, changed diapers, and headed off to music class!

Yay, music class! That was the first one I got to take him to. One nice thing, though, was that everyone said that we had a lovely nanny. Music class was great. I donÂ’t know how to describe it particularly, but can say that I was again the only daddy. This time, at least, people talked to me. The Boy Child seemed to like having me there. He was regularly running across the room to me and launching himself at me. He enjoyed going to get the instruments and then putting them away. He didnÂ’t sing, but thatÂ’s not a shock since he doesnÂ’t really talk. The tambourines were a big hit, so to speak, and ring around the rosy was also quite a favorite. Let me say that for me, the whole experience was sublime. I think I was just glowing, watching him, cuddling with him on the floor, pushing my face into his hair when he threw himself into my lap. There was no part of this class I did not love.

After class, we ran over to the library for a bit, but didnÂ’t find the book I was looking for, the new Charles Todd mystery. Already checked out. Ah, well.

Then, lunch. We belong to a little club out here and went there since there was a buffet on Thursdays and that is always good with young ones, no waiting for food. He ate all the salmon I took for myself, some fruit, and was thus rewarded with cookies, again. This time without trickery, Tuning Spork! Although, I did get to watch him prove that every cookie, no matter what the dimensions, is actually a single serving, bite size cookie. Crumbs were flying out of his mouth with every bite since his mouth was so full he couldnÂ’t actually close it! That brought out the flying, diving napkin. We ate, we played hide and seek at the table, he shared the fish stickers he got at music class by pasting them on my shirt, too. Everyone in the dining room, mostly older woman, smiled at him. He does look like an angel and a good mood is infectious.

After lunch, a little shopping and then off to fetch his sister. He was so anxious to see her that he disrupted the class departure routine where a teacher sends each child out, one by one, into the hands of the appointed caregiver. Nope, not this time. This time, the Boy Child pushed past the teacher in the doorway, shouting his sisterÂ’s name until he found her and got his hug and kiss. Then, hand in hand, the two of them exited the class room and off we came home for naps. Their naps, not mine.

Anyway, IÂ’m off to prepare dinner for them so that they can eat when they get up. I am Mr. Domestic Guy today and loving it.

Tomorrow comes too soon and brings with it a return to the office life, the brief writing, the telephone, and the rude letters. Except, this time IÂ’ll know how much better I could be having it if I was home with my kids.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 04:14 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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I am a reformed smoker. I quit the day after I took the NY Bar exam, some 12 years ago. Sometimes I miss it, sometimes I hate even walking behind someone smoking. Sometimes, though, the feelings I associate with tobacco go from mild missing, to nostalgia, to craving to being really sorry I gave it up. Those feelings usually sneak up on me. Like today.

There was this nasty, beat up van waiting to pull into the street from a gas station as I passed by. I took it all in -- the dents, the multihued exterior from original paint to bondo to rust, the driver with the predictable lit cigarette. And then, whoosh. Damn, I wanted one. I am not going to have one, clearly. But I am going to write about it.

At its best, a cigarette was a sensuous experience. Every part of it.

First, you'd pack the pack. The smack as you slapped the top of the pack against the palm of your hand and the little sting you'd feel. You'd do this several times until all the loose tobacco was packed firmly into the cigarette. Then the crinkle as you took the plastic off and the smell as you opened the pack and pulled the silvery paper out of the top.

You'd take the cigarette out of the pack then and put it in your mouth. You'd hold it loosely with your lips as you pulled out the fire. Loosely so you wouldn't get it wet.

Then, fire. Flame came from several possible sources. First, matches. The scriiitch of the match head against the strike paper, the quick attempt to cup the match if you were outside so it wouldn't go out, or the even faster attempt to light the smoke right off the flare as the match ignited. This was the least satisfying but had some appeal anyway. No, I really liked the zippo lighter, the heft of the brass. I had my initials engraved on mine. The sound of the top as you popped it open, that metal snick. The roughness of the wheel as you engaged the flint. The smell of the lighter fluid that just seemed to make the Camel Lights (my preferred brand) taste better. The solid thunk like the door of a Mercedes as you closed it. It always stayed lit in the wind, too.

Then there was the sound of the cigarette as it took the flame. The crinkle noise of the paper as it caught at the end. The change it made as the tobacco started to burn.

Then the smoke as it finally hit your lungs. That part was really quite excellent. Quite excellent.

Of course, I also liked the holding of the cigarette, the gesturing with it for emphasis, the flicking away the butt when I was finished, the quick tap or flick to knock the ashes off the end. All of this I liked.

I liked a slow smoke. I also liked a fast smoke. Like one of my classmates said in law school, in con law, when asked by a professor whether the cigarette boxes still had the Surgeon General's warnings on them: "I don't know, Professor, I just rip 'em open and smoke 'em."

I also liked pipes and still take, maybe a couple of times a year, a good cigar. But this post isn't about that. It is about missing my little pack of smokes and my snazzy zippo.

As I've said often to my wife, the thing I regret the most about ever starting to smoke seriously is that I can now no longer have the social cigarette if at a bar with friends. Nope. I'm done.

But I can still miss them from time to time. And I do.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 03:48 PM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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1 Man, you are jonesing for a 'moke. It's going on more than a month for me. I've quit a number of times. Hopefully this time will be the charm. I find now I don't miss the tobacco so much as the idea of smoking. Old movies bring it on -- High Society, for example, or that movie with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. Everyone's smoking all of the time. I think that in heaven you can smoke whenever you want, without consequence.

Posted by: Mark C N Sullivan at March 10, 2005 08:50 PM (/iovn)

2 Well, the urge passed very quickly. And as you said, it wasn't the smoke as much as the idea, as everything that surrounded the smoke. Good luck, Mark!

Posted by: RP at March 10, 2005 09:19 PM (X3Lfs)

3 Man, I can understand the jonesing, I get that way about beer and/or dark rum sometimes, remembering the good ole days back in college and univerity, partying with my friends. Unfortunately then I have some and the friends don't come back and the party doesn't appear, and... it's kind of a let down. And then my body goes "what are you drinking this for?" and gives me a headache, and I regret it all. Funny how smells and touch can bring back vivid memories though, and how those memories are usually better than the actual occasion.

Posted by: Oorgo at March 11, 2005 11:36 AM (lM0qs)

4 Good for you; glad you quit. I smoked for about 3 months when I was 18, then quit. However, for many years afterwards if we were drinking socially with others who smoked, I would cage a cigarette from them. Always gave me a headache the next day, though...no, not the booze, the cigarette, because I wouldn't have a headache with the same amount without one. So how powerful is this addiction that even though I only smoked a half a pack for 3 months it affected me for many many years afterwards. Powerful stuff. I hear it's harder to kick tobacco than heroin.

Posted by: Amber at March 11, 2005 04:28 PM (zQE5D)

5 Amber, Yes it is a harder addiction to kick than heroin. I've quit so many times it's rediculous. And I still have a ciggie burning in my ashtray right now. Don Imus was hooked on cocaine, booze, cigarettes and Gawde knows what else. Someone once asked Imus "Which was the hardest to give up?" "Cigarettes," he said without pause. Imus still chews Nicorette gum to this day. I envy and am so proud of my friends who've successfully quit smoking. But, I have a friend who quit for two years and then went back to it. I was so proud of her when she resisted offers of a smoke, but now she's hooked again. It's mostly our creature-of-habit nature, not the nicotine itself, I think. But, nowadays, I'm more certain than ever that I'll die of a smoking-caused illness. Oh well. A short(ened) life is better than none at all!

Posted by: Tuning Spork at March 12, 2005 12:35 AM (dqXkl)

6 I smoked a pack a day during most of high school and college. I quit my last semester of college without much trouble. I do cheat now, although it's only when I'm either back in my hometown with friends or when I'm out drinking. I definitely miss a smoke with coffee. Sigh.

Posted by: C at March 12, 2005 02:14 PM (0yCni)

7 I've smoked a Dunhill in your honor.

Posted by: Andrew Cusack at March 12, 2005 08:42 PM (KWqwc)

8 I just kept inhaling deeply as I read that. Oh, I can so relate as I struggle along in my brave endeavors to quit. Worst of it is I keep remembering two things that were said to me years ago. #1 "I quit years ago, but the longing is still there." and #2 was something my boss once said. He told me, "When I see that cloud of smoke above your head I know you are writing something really profuse, interesting, and worthwhile." I love to write, so quitting for me is very tough and I just don't appreciate puffing on a celery stick the same as puffing on a smoke. Still I'm glad you shared these thoughts -- there is hope for me if you could have had that kind of 'love relationship' and still found the strength to leave it behind.

Posted by: Roberta S at March 13, 2005 03:42 AM (R9op+)

9 Might have guessed Andrew Cusack smokes Dunhills. Reds, I trust.

Posted by: Mark C N Sullivan at March 15, 2005 02:51 PM (q9XsZ)

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I don't have much here about my son. He's only two and he doesn't really talk, certainly not like his sister. But he did something so funny to me the other night that I wanted to make sure I wrote it down and didn't forget it. As I said earlier, we took my mother out for dinner for her birthday. After dinner, there was a dessert table. The Boy Child may not speak much, but he is clear on his like for all things dessert. So, I carried him over there and we selected some cookies for his plate. Happiness reigned. His word for cookies is the Norwegian word: Kake. Pronounced with equal emphasis on each syllable. Ka-Ke.

We go back to the table and he just gazes at his plate for a moment. Then, very methodically, he picks up each cookie, one by one, and takes a bite from each, putting the tasted cookie back on the plate before moving on to the next one. Then, having ranked them in his own mind in order of tastiness (I presume), he stuffs them into his mouth. The plate is now empty. He looks at me and pleads: Kake? As if to say, all gone, get more. One of his hands, however, is closed. So I say, show me your hand. He holds out his left hand, quite empty. I say, no, show me your other hand. He takes his left hand back and looks down at his hands, brow furrowed in concentration, and, slowly, uncurls the fingers of his right hand and then carefully transfers the two cookies from his right hand to his left hand. Transfer finished, he proudly displayed the now cookie-less right hand for my inspection.

All I could do was laugh. And yes, I gave him another cookie.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:44 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
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1 Priceless!! It seems BC is a very good student of GC. As always, thanks for sharing.

Posted by: Wicked H at March 09, 2005 11:19 AM (iqFar)

2 The logic and perceptiveness of children is both amazing and charming. One day when my boy child was about two, I looked over and said, "Boy, behave!" He looked at me with a glint in his eye and replied, "But Mom, I'm being haved."

Posted by: JL at March 09, 2005 11:27 AM (Ul3xc)

3 Sweet, sweet story. I love it. The BC sounds so serious and determined!

Posted by: Amber at March 09, 2005 05:53 PM (zQE5D)

4 Those must have been some perty small cookies if he could hide 'em in his closed hand. No wonder he wanted more! Be careful y'don't reward decietful behavior just 'cause it's cute, though. Kids are always learning and testing their boundries. That's the only job they have at that age!

Posted by: Tuning Spork at March 09, 2005 11:37 PM (+FXP6)

5 The two year old girls in the neighborhood better watch out! It looks like we've got a smooth one on our hands. So adorable. Your children really are incredible.

Posted by: C at March 10, 2005 01:05 AM (SpWVb)

6 Hehe. What a smooth operator. Just wait until he CAN talk well. ;-)

Posted by: Jim at March 10, 2005 05:58 AM (MDLz3)

7 Awww TS, RP and his wife are competent parents and BC will not fare any the worse for wear just because he got a cookie from Daddy by deceptive methods. He's TWO. Having said that --- I'd have given him a cookie, too. But you do realize that I'm a grandmother, now? We have a different set of rules from Mommies. Aheh.

Posted by: Margi at March 10, 2005 12:54 PM (lWAiX)

8 I sort of agree with both TS and Margi. Yes, kids will take advantage of any cracks in your facade, and you should not reward dishonesty. However, charm and creative problem-solving are always valuable characteristics to have!

Posted by: GrammarQueen at March 10, 2005 01:50 PM (Dccav)

9 Thanks for all the great comments. TS, you have a very good point, but just the same I think you have to reward them if they can make you laugh while they are trying to manipulate them. At least, maybe a little. I would have had to have had a much harder heart not to have responded to that little show he put on.

Posted by: RP at March 10, 2005 04:16 PM (X3Lfs)

10 Oh no! I don't think BC was being deceitful at all. Not at all...no, Random, you asked him to show you his hand. He was conflicted because there was something IN his left hand, so how could he show you his bare hand? That's why he transferred the cookies. It didn't occur to him to try and get away with anything. Just my take on it. (Am I going to be a GREAT Nana or what?? HA!)

Posted by: Amber at March 11, 2005 04:26 PM (zQE5D)

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Back in December of last year, I put up an entry on Welsh hip hop. Would you believe it still attracts the occasional comment from the Welsh hip hop afficionados and partisans? This is why comments should not be closed. It may have something to do with the fact that when you run the Google search, my little blog is the second search result on the list.

The BBC put up a nice review of the album released last Summer: Miwsig I'ch Traed A Miwsig I'ch Meddwl. I cannot pronounce it, honestly, but I like the way all of the letters look together. This album was put out by Boobytrap Records, which also puts out Welch Hip Hop albums by Kentucky AFC. If you want to hear a snippet from MC Mabon's hit single, opupPic('mp3s/mc_mabon.mp3')">go iawn wir yr click on the song title and hopefully that will work. If not, click here, because I don't want you to miss your chance at hearing the "chanting song of acid-guzzling choir goers".

Here is a great set of resources for Welsh Hip Hop from BBC Wales: Adam Walton's Magical Mystery Tour. Here is an informative looking website from another record company: Angst.

Finally, the BBC Wales does have a nice looking set of links to Welsh music sites generally, with some hip hop mixed in.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to check out The Martini Henry Rifles new video. Not hip hop, mind you, but quite interesting and in English.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:56 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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