Ringing in the new year with legos and vomit

For Christmas this year, my wife and I made the executive decision that instead of presents, we would take a family vacation. And since the kids are really into them right now, we chose lego-land. Long car trips are doubleplus unfun with the various personalities involved (yes, mine too), so we flew down from Sacramento to San Diego. Somewhere through the years I forgot my son hadn’t flown on a plane in his own memory (he was 2 the last time), and some child in his class had him freaked out about plane crashes and whatnot, but he pulled through like a trooper. The return flight, he even wanted the window seat.

But Lego-land was fun, if a lot less lego-y than I had expected. It’s not like I expected the rides to actually be made out of legos, but still. There were some cool things there, and the kids had a lot of fun. My favorite thing was the place where you could build lego vehicles and then race them against each other on this cool sloping racetrack. I immediately started making plans to build one and install it in the living room, but this was voted down, so I contented myself with the lesson that winning at lego car racing is all about weight and balance. Maybe the ramp will go in the backyard, but then you have wind resistance to deal with.

ok, so maybe it’s not just the kids that are into legos. I am getting to make a corner where we can take all the legos and put them in the middle of a big table so we can keep them there all the time, because as you all know, it’s frustrating to get started on a big lego project and have to move it, because the sections always come apart and by the time you’re done getting it back together, you’ve lost a couple of crucial pieces and maybe even the entire design plan anyway. so …. win!

We’d planned to hit the SD Zoo as well, but on New Year’s eve, the drewnami got really sick (all over the rental car too) so we took it easy and just went to the beach. And once he was done being sick, it hit my poor wife at the exact worst possible moment. We can wholeheartedly recommend the kindness and helpfulness of Southwest Airlines flight attendants.

So that was how the West Coast branch of the Grayson family spent New Year’s. And I feel sorry for my poor wife and son who had to endure it, even as I kind of don’t even mind. It’s a longstanding family tradition for there be at least one hospital visit per holiday. We stayed out of the hospital this time, but I already had New Year’s covered from an incident ten years ago. My son helpfully launched himself over a barbecue grill last year (freak not, it was off) on Groundhog’s day.

And during all this, while standing in a stealth long-ass line at the Bionicle roller coaster, a story I’ve been knocking around inside my head sort of woke up and told me what it was and how to write it. And it was then I realized that if I’d only had my phone with me (it was in the backpack) I would have been able to jot it all down right there. Turns out Kate is right, I SHOULD have my cell phone on me at all times. Who knew?

So happy New Year to you all. 2009 sucked. There were like, one or two good things that happened, but the rest of 2009 can go do unnatural things to itself. 2010 — the bar’s pretty low, so no pressure, m’kay?

 

A rant (probably only slightly paranoid)

My son is a first grader. He’s very bright. Independent observers have confirmed this and, anyway, I can’t take credit for it because I did my best to teach him how to rot his brain with cartoons and comic books. He had a great year in kindergarten, but toward the end of the year started to get in trouble, mostly because he’s smart and charming and had a group of littre smart and charming friends who all decided they would see what they could get away with. It got handled very well by his teacher and his principal.

His kindergarten teacher was wonderful. She was whip-smart and had this really effective mix of warmth and firmness.

Enter first grade. Full stop. He basically has not been able to do anything right the entire year. My wife and I have tried to be really supportive of the school, and his teacher has tried to work on being more positive with him, but it’s getting a little ridiculous.

Case in point: He has math work he does at home and in class. Maybe this is the way they’re teaching it now, but with almost every math problem they have to draw a little picture. 5 apples + 3 apples = 8 apples (someone should probably check my math there just to be sure). They’re supposed to draw and color the apples as well as write out the “number sentence” (an aside: why are we not teaching kids the actual math terms and using fuzzy stuff like this?) Well, Drew looks at this and immediately says 5 + 3 = 8, and writes out the number sentence. He grasps the concept. Why does he need to take an extra five minutes and draw the apples? It just frustrates him.

So, the next night, the homework comes home for corrections which are all, basically, DRAW THE PICTURE. This is stupid. He does not need to draw the picture. He needs to move on to other things so he does not get bored.

I know elementary school math programs now are all about this kind of stuff, making it more “arty,” and supposedly “fun.” But for kids who get it, its just frustrating, and reinforces the whole, “Can’t do anything right.” thing. My daughter’s fifth grade math text was all about little pictures and tricks and listing and she could do all of that but didn’t have a grasp of the fundementals, so we switched to Saxon, a math program with no frills, all fundamentals.

At the beginning of this year we wanted to be so supportive of our son’s teacher that we unwittingly sent him the message that we were not on his side, we were on hers. Well, fuck that! I’m on his side, and he needs to know that. And if my kids teacher starts to think I’m a little bit of an asshole because I’m going to the mat on this stuff, well, fine. Kids need what they need and he needs something different. I’m not asking the school to provide that something different, just to get out of my way.

And don’t even get me started on the yard duties who let the boys be teased and tormented by the girls but don’t hesitate to bust a boy who steps out of line, because anyone who’s ever worked around kids knows that totally happens.

Anyway, i’ve been thinking a lot about this kid lately after the months of sturm and drang regarding the other. It’s the opposite problem, really, but just as important mostly because he is really smart and if he gets frustrated and decides to devote his powers to evil in revenge for his unhappy primary school experience we are all screwed.

 

2008: a post-mortem

As a new year starts, I think it’s a good idea to look at the last year, and see what happned. Sure, there were problems, but I don’t want to dwell on them, so, for a change, I’m going to talk about things I accomplished this year.

I published my first short story. In a paying market, which felt really good, especially since it was a story I rather liked. Now, of course, I can see flaws, but it’s still my story and it’s out there for the world.  Shameless plug time: you can get it in the Barren Worlds anthology published by Hadley-Rille Books. “This Abandoned Sky” is on page 63.

Additionally, I finished two other short stories and submitted them to markets. One rejection, but one is still out there. Who knows? I also got a good start on my next novel, and hopefully will finish that sometime this year.

I spent the year back in school, training for an entirely new career (a daunting task when you’re in your 30′s). This, plus the writing, makes me feel like I’m starting two new careers at once.  But they’re both things I love.  My grandpa’s advice remains true: Find something you love, find a way to make a living at it, and you will never work a day in your life. So far, the “make a living” part remains elusive, but I’m on track. At any rate, I am a much more useful human being than I was before, able to actually help people, not just critique their grammar. Don’t worry, I can still do that too.

I finally got my head balanced out, by the grace of God, Dr. Kinney,  and the pharmaceutical industry. Sometimes you don’t realize you’ve gone off the rails until you get back on them. I have no desire to be a normal person, so to speak, but I would like to be in charge of the abnormality. Now I feel like I am.

for 2009: continue the work, become employed, remain balanced, find a way to keep the house cleaned and the laundry done, try not to fall to pieces during the last few eps of Battlestar Galactica (which starts again on my birthday).

And as I was wring this, the song that came up on my ipod? Beautiful Dawn by the Wailing Jennies. Hope that’s an omen.

 

Catching up …

Just a few notes to play catch-up.

The work continues. My new Novel, The New Maps of Hell (working title, no one freak out, although I rather like it. Yes, I know it’s borrowed from one of the early works of science fiction criticism, but it works for the situation. And I should end these parentheses before the entire post is all parentheses and no content.) now has a word count posted at the bottom of the page. That’s why I changed themes, to be able to use widgets, although I really liked the black and white Hemingway. I may get into the html and change it around later if I get the time.

And I can do that now. My tech classes are over for the semester and I’m ready to take the certification exam in January. This will, hopefully, lead to gainful employment in the field I love, and my teaching career can become a distant, unpleasant memory.

And I’m undergoing a little bit of a spiritual renaissance, thanks to podcasts from Jay Bakker’s Revolution Church in NYC. I won’t get into this a lot, but I was raised in a really strict religious tradition, became Catholic as an adult, and still love Catholic forms of worship even if I’m kind of parting ways with some of that dogma, specifically the church’s belief in it’s own infallibility, their stand against Gay Marriage, and the apocalyptic way the priest pederasty was handled. It’s nice to feel like this can be a part of my life again in some way, though I am, if still a christian to any degree, one of those liberal, out there christians, and that’s just fine with me.

Just don’t call me religious, those are fighting words.

And in the middle of several household crises this week, I received a rejection notice. It was one I expected, because it would have been just an amazing thing to have won WOTF the first time I entered, and now I can shop the story around some more. And, hey, they sent me a cool bookmark, so … win?

So as the year winds down, things are looking up, at least a little. I feel like my time in the wilderness may be ending, or at least transitioning into something else, a place where I might be able to start doing real  people some actual good. It’s been a hard journey, and I don’t want to get into specifics too much, but I’ve battled something for years and finally been diagnosed and properly treated. It feels good to be in control of how I’m feeling.

Screw it. I wouldn’t want anyone else in my position to feel ashamed, so I’m not going to either. I’ve battled bipolar disorder without knowing what it was, exactly, for about eight years. Now I know. Now I’m me again. I’m not the me I was before because that person hadn’t gone through what I’ve gone through. And, you know, to steal the old quote, “I wouldn’t take nothing for my journey now.”

I’d better wind this up because, as I was writing, I think my kids put the cat in the bathtub. Tiberius = not happy.

 

I don’t mind if it rains, but does it have to rain snot?

Sorry for the gross title. That’s the kind of mood I’m in today, but I promise this won’t be a whining post. It’s been one of those weeks where I start off with good intention and a brilliantly thought-out to-do list that, if followed properly, would have resulted in all my homework done, my story out the door, and the house being spotless. You can guess what happened next.

Virtually every single day had an atomic-sized disaster in the middle of it that necessitated all plans being dropped immediately and emergency positions taken (why do so many of my emergency posistions require me to be on the telephone or in the car, also on the telephone?).

Things seemed to be settled down now, mostly, but I am behind on all kinds of work and I was trying to get all of it done last week so the week ahead, which has long loomed in red letters on the calendar as THE WEEK FROM HELL would not have to be so bad. 

So, in short, I am screwed. But since I am am on all kinds of cold meds to combat the summer-cold-which-is-also-from-hell-possibly-sent-ahead-as-a-herald-sort-of-like-the-silver-surfer that arrived on Thursday, I don’t even care. 

I have spared you all the story of the snot and glitter disaster that necessitated the shaving of all my facial hair. You’re welcome. 

Carry on.

 

parental FAIL!

My son has taken it upon himself to be the one who, when we visit the in-laws, opens the gate for us to drive through when its time to leave. Usually with the van sitting there, waiting for him. Last night, when he went to perform this task, he was poking along even more slowly than usual, playing with some toy or other.

So … because I am me … I decided to hurry him along a little by honking the horn. At which point he jumped about three feet in the air and (I swear this was not funny, I don’t know why I’m still laughing) landed in the rose bushes.

The wife was not amused. The son was definitely not amused. Not even the daughter was amused. Me? Amused. Still amused. Felt bad when I saw the scratches on his hand (they were tiny, very tiny), but still … that sight of him jumping and flailing? Still amused. 

I am very sorry and I promise to pay for his therapy.

 

Returning the favor

It’s father’s day.  Since I have become a father myself, this has always been a day of reflection about my kids and my relationship with them, and how it relates to mine with my own dad. I don’t really buy the conventional wisdom that most conservatives spout, that most of society is moving beyond the concept of fatherhood, that fathers are unappreciated and, most people think, unneeded.

I don’t think anyone thinks of fathers as unneeded at all. Absent? A great deal of the time. But unneeded? I don’t know of a single person in real life who actually thinks that.

I certainly had a great father. I’ve written about him before here: http://therandomavenger.blogspot.com/2006/06/my-father-unauthorized-biography.html but this year, as parts of my life began to fall apart, and others started to come together, I’ve been reminded again of what makes him so great. A lot of guys grew up trying to prove themselves to their dads, and felt like they failed. They just never lived up. I certainly inhaled the same cultural smoke that makes this a right of passage for men in our society, but as I’ve become an adult and a father I realized that with my dad, I didn’t really have to do this. He didn’t always understand me. Hell, I didn’t always understand myself. But he saw who I was and didn’t place upon me responsibility for his own happiness. He never wanted me to be anyone else. He didn’t need a sports hero, or a clone of himself. He didn’t even need to “get me” to love me and support me.

That’s a rare gift. He had certain things he wanted for me: a work ethic, a sense of faith, to stay out of jail,  but beyond that … he just wanted me to be happy and successful.

And that’s what I want for my own kids. They are not me. They don’t have to reflect me. I just want them to be happy and successful in their lives.

And for my father? I don’t need to “get him” either all the time to love and unconditionally support him. He’s a man who’s worked hard all his life, and then gave up what could have been an early and easy retirement to move across country and start his life over again. He did that because he wanted to be in my life and in my kids’ lives. He’s a great grandpa, and a great dad, and I thank God every day for the gift of that. He’s certainly more patient with me than I am with myself. He’s not a perfect man, but I think his imperfections make him a better father. I certainly hope so, because that’s what I’m counting on for myself.

So, for father’s day, we should all return the favor, try to understand our fathers who who they are as people, and love them for being that person. It’s probably a lot of the reason we are who we are.

 

Invasion Crisis in Infinite Local Comic Shop

After an absence of several years, i finally re-entered the comic shop a couple of weeks ago. I’ve always loved comics, (it’s the old aging hipster geekstory: midwest upbringing, blah, blah, difficult childhood, yadda, yadda, comics made them bearable, whatever) and never really left them. I just switched to getting them in trade paperback collections, which look cooler on my bookshelf and have no real must-buy-or-you-miss-it date, which allows me to purchase them only when I’ve squirrelled away enough dollar bills and quarters in my top dresser drawer. You’re welcome, honey.

You see, when I’m making weekly visits to the comic shop, i have an official problem. I can’t stop adding to my pull list. So, a couple of years ago. I quit. There’s no geeks anonymous group, so I had to go cold turkey on my own. My wife helped by looking at the pile of comics in the clset and grumbling things like “when i think of all the money spent…” The fact that my raw tonnage of comic boxes in the garage crushed all of her old 4h trophies only added to the, shall we say, resentment.

But anyway, two recent things got me back in the shop. Comic geeks, I’m sure already know what they are. Marvel’s Secret Invasion and DC’s Final Crisis.

I’ll start with Secret Invasion. I don’t really have a lot to say about it except that I am a sucker for these types of stories. Everything you know is wrong! I’m a secret alien! You are not who you think your are! (see also: Battlestar Galactica). So far it’s been a lot of fun. I have two things to say to Bendis: West Coast Avengers was the first comic I ever collected regularly. Bendis, you better not be kidding with this Mockingbird thing!!!!

As far as Final Crisis goes. I’m the natural audience for this, but I’ve not caught up with a lot of recent DC product, so a lot of the criticisms (it doesn’t make sense with recent events, it’s a little hard to understand for anyone who’s not an old-school fan, etc) don’t hit me as hard. Plus, it’s Morrison, so there’s a huge gosh-wow factor that compensates for a lot. I’m in. I don’t know, though, if I can forgive him for what he did to J’onn.