Method Acting

In the first move of his rise to stardom, 8 has won a part in the school Thanksgiving play. He has a fairly big role as one of the Noble Savages in the production of "Pochahontas". He didn't care what part he got, as long as it was one of the Indians.

The conversation went like this:

What part did you get?

Brave Eagle.

So, you are one of the Indians.

I don't know if I'm an Indian or not. All I know is, I'm Brave Eagle.

Mind You Don't Cut Yerself, Mordecai

In what must be an amazing confluence of events, Mrs. Sarcastro and I will be welcoming a new addition to the family. The new member will be joining us sometime in March. I would like to say that, " ...there was too much love and beauty for just the two of us. Every day we kept a child out of the world was a day he might later regret havin' missed." Those of you who didn't attend rural or religious schools know that it doesn't usually work that way.

Apparently, this woman, who looked as fertile as the Tennessee valley, couId definitely bear chiIdren. The doctor expIained that her insides were not a rocky pIace where my seed could undoubtedly find purchase.





Besides, these are getting too big to cuddle.









We fully expect to be in a blog feud with Lindsay over at Suburban Turmoil. She is due about the same time. We may have to Rochambeau over who gets the hospital bed. It is entirely possible that both women are due on the same day. Must have been a full moon that particular night in June. Or, I think it was June.

"C'mon kids, get away from Mr. Ferrier's car."

Doggerel

From the pen of 8:

Rose, sweet Rose
For you I would blow my nose
Peace out










The poet and subject at Fall Creek Falls

Beware of Carnies

Despite their rat-like appearance, carnies are kings among men--Homer Simpson.

We went to the State Fair last night. I haven't been to a State Fair since, I don't know when. It would be fair (heh) to say that if it weren't for the kids, I would have no interest in going to the fair.

Let me say that for State Fair aficionados, the Monday anniversary of a national tragedy is the best time possible for avoiding the crowds. The fairgrounds were deader than Steve Irwin.

A quick survey of what few people there were in attendance showed that no matter what my dismal financial situation is, I was the wealthiest man there last night. It struck me that it might have been Family Night for the carnies. You couldn't really tell who worked there and who was a paying customer. To paraphrase George Orwell, "The creatures outside looked from carny to man, and from man to carny, and from carny to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which."

As far as the attractions went, we had a limited time frame. Our plan was to see the marquee acts, hit the Midway, ride a few rides and get out. No livestock and farm animals, please. We've set the bar of entertainment a little higher, thank you.

The acrobats were passably entertaining. But they had a clown involved. It was hard for the boys to pay attention while keeping a sharp eye on the clown at all times. Perhaps telling them about John Wayne Gacy on the way to the Fairgrounds was an unwise choice.

The white tigers were sluggish and lethargic. Their performance was fun if you have ever gotten a charge from watching a house cat on tranquilizers.















Even more disappointing was the shark tanks. They had lemon and nurse sharks. Or as they are known on the bayou--catfish. We did get a good picture, so it wasn't an entire waste of time.

If only the docile sharks were the least of our troubles. I would gladly get in the shark tank to avoid taking children through the Midway. These kids, especially 8, are drawn to carnival games like Paula Abdul is drawn to Percocet and vodka.

I tried to fight the good fight. My ranting about how carny games were rigged, and that getting the giant stuffed dog was a waste of money fell on deaf ears. So, forty damn dollars and an unbelievable amount of crazy carny banter later, we walked away with three stuffed dogs. Not the gigantic ones, but what could generously be called medium sized. The kids need to work on their hitting balloons with darts skills.

With what little money we had left, we (and by that, I mean they) finally got to the carnival rides. The bumper cars were a bust. Unfortunately for 8, he got a bum car. By that, I mean the car didn't work and the bum attendant had to get in with him to make it go properly. Somewhere in the archives is a photo of me at the age of 8 sitting in a faulty bumper car with a carny having to drive. It's the circle of life, Simba.


Next were the bumper boats. Clearly, this would be much different. It was. This time, 11's boat didn't work properly. The only thing wrong with 8's boat was the copious amount of oil smoke and exhaust blowing in his face. They still had fun once the highly skilled technicians came out and beat on the boats with hammers.














Despite the money spent, the boys had a good time and got some stuffed dogs. That was the point wasn't it? At least the having a good time part.

Not Their First Rodeo

These two have been to more NFL games than I have. Mommy having season tickets for the last six years may have something to do with that. Sunday was my second trip to a home Titans game. The boys showed me quite a bit that afternoon.

They are skilled at tailgating.














They intently watch the game.














They do not get distracted by cheerleaders.














Or DO they?

Reading Is FUN-damental!

We took the boys to the Downtown Nashville Public Library. They started out fairly skeptical of the whole enterprise. There was baseball practice and Vanderbilt football on the agenda for later in the day. Was it really responsible of us as parents to risk tampering with the delicate balance of the Universe like that? Demands were made. Deadlines for returning home were agreed to. Bribes were not offered, but kept in reserve just in case. A spirit of adventure gripped the lads, and off to the Bookatorium we went.

Certain downtown landmarks were pointed out. The boys immediately recognized the billboard of Jeremy Duffer on Church St. Even at their young ages, they are wise enough to see something innately creepy about a grown man who works at a Dungeons and Dragons store. We pointed out the building where Uncle XXXX used to have an apartment. The question from 8 was, "Did he live there when he was arrested?" The reference is to an unfortunate downtown drinking incident, which if he did live there at the time, he would not have been arrested.

The first thing the boys noticed when we entered the library, is that it is much bigger than the one at school. The second thing they noticed, is that there is plenty to do other than look at boring old books.

The thrill of riding the plastic whatever was sadly short-lived.

There were rows of computers nearby that were certainly far more alluring than the plastic whatever.

As was to be expected, this was a short-lived distraction as well. Despite the kid-friendly graphics, the computers were mostly of an educational nature with a little electronic card catalog action thrown on for good measure.

Without any other nearby shiny objects to compete for their attentions, the boys were soon able to find books that appealed to them.


One of the mission objectives was to find a suitable book for Mrs. S to read to the Third Grade Class. This offering on the right was immediately vetoed.

The boys soon started a search for books that conformed to the mission objective, as well as piqued their personal interests.

After what seemed like hours of searching and winnowing down the possible books, we were able to settle on 40 or so books that the boys wanted to read. They wildly varied in subject from Tiger Sharks to Great White Sharks. The wide spectrum of interests outside of sharks were also evident. Hence the dozen books about baseball and football. We also picked up the biographies of Sammy Sosa and Michael Vick just to mix it up a bit.

Before we left, we checked out the library's Drifting Along The Nile exhibit.

I found it to be extremely interesting, with cool postcards, photos, stereo-optic geegaws and those old stickers they used to put on luggage, back when you could take a gun on a plane and no one cared.

Children, sad to say, aren't nearly as impressed with a bunch of dumb old photos and boring Egyptian stuff as parents tend to be. So we made our way out the building. But, not before a rhubarb erupted about why 11 got a bookmark and 8 didn't. Once that crisis was resolved, we headed for home. I should have known this dispute was a portent of things to come.

Once the football game was watched and the baseball skills were practiced, it was time to settle in for a while. One of the books was cracked open. I believe it was about sharks. Once that was perused, boredom set in. The boys began to rough-house. It may have been about wedgies, or it may have been about bookmarks. I don't remember. But, I do know this:



It is all fun and games...













...until someone gets hurt.

Important New Parenting Tip #1

Children don't enjoy swimming in 68 degree weather as much as they enjoy swimming in 98 degree weather.


Although, it is a good opportunity to explain the concept of "shrinkage".