Today was one of those great summer days:  Got an early morning ride in, had b’fast with a friend, got to see my wife dressed up as she went out with a friend and I read on the deck, in a cool summer breeze, while helping Brod assemble legos™ (look at the pride in his smiles), Maura swam with friends, rabbits nibbled and 80’s music played on the radio.

The day we returned home, it was our eleventh wedding anniversary.  We stopped at Clara’s (the site of our rehearsal dinner) for lunch and then stopped by the chapel on the campus of MSU where we were wed.  There was a wedding just starting preparations, so Dayna snuck each kid in individually to see the chapel (which they’ve seen many times in the album) in person.

We hit Dayna’s dorm room and had an enjoyable and nostalgic time.

Now…I’m never one to shy away from a deal, nor (what I consider) a ‘good time’.  They had this coaster thing that you could ride.  It was a little pricey BUT, if I got an all day pass for 20$, the kids could shotgun w/ me as much as they wanted (FREE!) so long as they were below the 52 inch height requirement.  Man was I glad that Brody was only 51 inches tall. 

You get to ride up a ski lift (which I’ve never done, so it was cool), there’s a great view from the top of the mountain, and then you go down on a glorified board with wheels in a water-slide-like tube. 

The first couple times I kept getting stuck behind this kid in a pink shirt that was really slow.  I’d have to stop, let her get some distance and then start again (a few times each ride).  She was really harshing my buzz man! 

So after several runs I was again behind this lame pink shirted gal (I don’t care that she was only 10!  If you can stand the heat, get off the coaster honey!).  So, I sat at the entry gate a long time.  The employee kept saying ‘You can go’ and I let him know that I was giving the PSG some time to get to the bottom, I was tired of her as a moving pylon.  So Brody and I finally go, I think ‘balls out’ is the metric measurement of speed in use here, and it was a blast, till just after the giant ‘Dip’ sign, right before the area on the tube that was smeared with rubber, flesh, blood and pre-scabby material. 

You guessed it, we wiped out…BIG!  Flipped over and basically skidded on our skin for many yards (thankfully our balls weren’t really out).  Brody was shaken up but we didn’t have time, we had to get moving before the next stupid Dad barreled down upon us.  I got us going fast and we made it to the bottom.  Brody was a little upset and had some minor boo-boos…I have two serious burns that still stain my shirt or pants when I bend an elbow or knee.

Gotta love Dads!

Enjoy the video from a safer run with Mo…Note the ‘Dip’ sign and the stains on the track after it…and of course the PSG (pink shirt gal).  (And yes, my shoes are nasty…time for some new Skechers or Vans!)

It truly is a small world…

The first day we rode in TN, my Uncle John accompanied us on his Harley.  Like most Harley-Riders, he cruises…drive slow, look cool, smoke and even use a cup holder for a beverage.  He was probably pretty frustrated with Dad and I: we are not ‘cruisers’ (nor would I ever attempt to drink and smoke while riding), we are sport-bike wannabe’s on standard cycles.  So we sprint, stop for a picture, sprint (meaning, tear through the roads…quickly) and then stop to take a pic whenever we see a good shot or something interesting.

On this particular day, Dad saw two side of the road outhouses (ladies and gents of course).  They are not just there randomly, there is a church across the street that does not have running water.  So Dad pulled over for a pic (this probably also puzzled Uncle John who is accustomed to seeing road side out houses whereas to us, it’s less common).  While there taking a pic or two, Dad noticed a small .22 rifle (with a sorry ass scope) leaning on the fence.  Not wanting kids to play with it, Uncle John drove up to the nearest house and the owner came down.  He didn’t know who it belonged to, but he checked the lock and then tossed it into the bed of his truck. 

We talked for a few minutes, he noted we were from Michigan and volunteered that his sister-in-law taught in South Lyon.   Seriously, what are the odds, in the middle of nowhere, you randomly hand a lost rifle to someone whose in-law teaches in the same school district as your spouse four states away?!

This past week we had our annual ‘up north, anti-disney™’ vacation.  As we were walking through the small town of Frankfort, a lady is walking towards us and says ‘Hi Brody’.  ??  Brody says ‘Hi’ and they have a brief conversation about school and then she’s gone.  Brody moves on to the next thing that catches his attention, as if running into someone 300 miles from home is the norm.  Turns out it was a woman who works as a teacher’s aid at his school.

Apparently, even w/out the use of the internet, it is difficult to be completely anonymous in this world.

When I was a kid visiting my Uncle, I noted all the traffic and street signs he had in his garage. He had practically wall-papered his garage with stop signs, speed limit signs, and other signs one is tested on when acquiring a driver’s license.

As a young teen I thought it was pretty cool and as a result, he gave me my very own ‘Speed Limit 35 MPG’ sign.  I remember him saying that every teen boy should have a street sign in his room.  I asked where he got it and he gave a vague recollection of a specific intersection.

I was soooo excited.

Upon arrival home I remember Dad saying that it was illegal to have such things, they were city or government property, and that he’d have to return it to the appropriate city (my memory fades after that as to whether he did or not…)

Brody sensed that same thing this past week.

He spent the night at a friend’s house.  When D picked him up, she asked what they did and one of the late night activities was to watch Kung Fu Panda…in the basement!

Dayna did end up telling him about ‘bootlegs’ and how it really is stealing.  The rest of the day he felt really bad and was quite apologetic.

Appendix:

While I don’t want my son engaged or supporting bootlegging, I also didn’t want him to feel bad, nor did I want him to think poorly of his friends.  So I did point out that all are a little cavalier when it comes to the rules (or law) in our own ways….highlighting that I had taken him to his friends house on the motorcycle…helmet free with is also illegal.

When we go to latch key we drive by the local cemetery (BTW plots are only $89 bucks, $79 if you have a shovel) and apparently I have done a poor job at instilling the needed sense of reverence as Mo refers to the occupants as ‘zombies’ rather than ‘the dearly departed’.

That being said, today Mo shared with D that she had ‘zombies in her head.’  More specifically, a family of zombies.  The symptoms of zombie possession (or would that be an infection?  Anyway..) are a buzzing in the head, a heavy head, and an inability to blink!

Not surprising, she fell asleep on the couch within minutes of said infestation.

Okay, this is a little gross..but the Stubbs the Zombie soundtrack is awesome....Fifties greats performed by today's top, indie artists!

File this under ‘Teen Years Foreshadowing and Foreboding’:

So I’m reading for bed time.  Mo’ pretended to be the librarian, so I checked out a couple books and then sat down to read them.  I told her to come over but she was reluctant to ‘break character’ and mess with ‘continuity’ by appearing as both the librarian and the daughter (she has not seen lame, prime time drama’s where this is easily addressed by an evil twin).  As such, she gave me a stuffed doll I picked up for her when I was last in Holland (like how I said that?  ‘..last in Holland’.  Makes it sound like I’m all wordly an shit and go there all the time!).

So, I started reading to badkamers meisje and of course, within seconds, Mo was jealous and decided ‘continuity be damned’ she wanted to hear the stories. 

Brody had brought his book in for bed time, but when he saw that we were reading ‘My Pretty Pink Pony Kisses Glittery Puff Butts in Lavender and Tutus’ (or something like that) he got a little dramatic (not unlike some of the aforementioned Ponies to be honest) and hid under the desk. 

“I’m not listening the GIRL stuff!”

Shortly thereafter it was bed time.  As Brod was brushing his teeth, Mo decided that she needed to prepare for her Oprah appearance (is it not the goal of every woman in America to go on Oprah, share how they’ve been aggrieved by (someone, something, or taunting cheerleader ponies) and bask in the collective pity for fifteen minutes while Oprah acts interested?).  So she  put on her best sad face (which she’s good at, in certain instances (let’s say ‘sweeps week’) she can get a tear out in less than one minute) and then pointed out a picture she had quickly created and taped to the door.

She said that ‘Brody had broke her heart’ by not wanting to hear the pony story.

It was a pink heart with a circle around it and an x over it.

She’s ready for her close up!