First it was in the parking lot at school. Then it was while I was out of town. The next one was in the garage. This time it was while I was on the road. If you have been keeping up with this blog for the last three months, you probably know what I'm talking about. I got another flat tire today. This is the fourth one in about three months.
The first three I discovered while the car was parked, but this one happened while I was on the go. Earlier this week my wife struck a deal so that our girls could take horseback riding lessons from a gal in town in exchange for me tutoring her son in reading. Since I kind of know what I'm doing in the reading area, it seemed like a good idea. The blowout happened on the way home. The horse lady and her son live about four miles from us and the temperature was only in the low 90s yesterday afternoon, so I rode my bike over there today.
There's actually a little bit more to the story than just the blowout. I haven't ridden much in the last week since my fairly new bike helmet met an unfortunate ending last Friday. It came about as a result of an encounter with the right front tire of our Suburban. Fortunately my head wasn't in it at the time, but I suspect that one of my sweet little children played a roll in strategically placing it behind the tire.
I really liked this particular helmet and in order to get a new one I had to order it from Amazon. We have the Prime account which comes with free two-day shipping, so it's pretty easy to buy things that way. When it finally arrived on Tuesday I went for a ride and then again on Wednesday. I was really feeling like I was in a groove yesterday as I was pedaling home from the tutoring session when I heard a loud pop.
I keep self-sealing thorn-proof tubes in my tires, so flats are rare. There are lots of thorns in our area, so I do have to add air every once in a while. That's why I keep a pump with me, but I don't keep a spare tube. The way I was figuring was that if I got a flat, it would be the result of a thorn which is easily remedied just by topping off the air in the tube and moving on.
This particular flat was much more than a thorn. It was caused by a two-inch nail that punctured the tire and popped the tube like a balloon. There was no recovering from this one. Fortunately I carry a roadside assistance plan, so I pulled my phone out and made a quick call then walked my bike over to a shady spot in front of Farmer Boy's.
Ten minutes later, the roadside assistance truck pulled into the parking lot. I wheeled my handicapped bike over to it, kissed the driver, and loaded up the bike. "Thanks, Honey," I said as I climbed inside. As soon as we got home, my roadside assistance plan kicked in again. This time the driver sat down in front of her computer, clicked on her trusty Amazon Prime account, typed a few words and ordered me a new tube with guaranteed two-day delivery. That means that by Saturday I'll be back in business. Anyone want to go for a ride?
Friday, June 14, 2013
Thursday, June 13, 2013
The New Status Symbol
Phones have always been a status symbol of sorts. When they were first invented in the 1870s, very few even existed, so naturally, anyone who owned a telephone was a person of status. We've all seen the old crank phones that didn't even have any buttons to push. You had to be important to have one of those. Later someone invented the rotary dial as technology started to replace the need for a person to connect your call. Then came the push-button phone. At first the status associated with the phone was limited to your home, but then came the 1980s. It was during this decade that phone technology really began to change and the ultimate status symbol started appearing on the back windows of cars. The infamous spiral antenna was a loud bumper sticker proclaiming to the world "This car has a phone inside it!"
A few years later, that coveted symbol of technological prowess became a sign that you were behind the times. As phones became smaller, they no longer needed cumbersome spiral antennas. By the late1990s if you still had to have a spiral antenna on your car you must not be important enough to have a phone that could fit in your pocket. Then came the Blackberry and then the iPhone and who knows what's next.
Most kids these days are growing up with their parents' old phones as toys. My kids have had their share of retired cell phones to play with, but the problem with those is that they don't work. You can't talk to your friends or siblings on an old phone. If you really want to communicate, you need more reliable technology. That's why my kids have the coolest phone ever invented.
It all started when my oldest daughter read about it in a book and an idea was born. She started with two cans and a string and ended with two cans and a string. Now the kids can actually talk to each other as they burry their faces in the cans and pull the string tight. The best part about it is when your four-year-old son, who always talks too loud, puts his face into the can and seals it against his cheeks before he talks. The result is that it actually muffles the sound down to a tolerable level.
After watching my kids playing with their tin can phones, I had an idea. Since phones are status symbols and the best way to broadcast your status is on the back window of your car, why not come up with a little white window decal that shows two cans connected by a string? Only those with enough status to admit that their kids use such primitive means of communication could actually have one of the stickers. How's that for a new status symbol?
A few years later, that coveted symbol of technological prowess became a sign that you were behind the times. As phones became smaller, they no longer needed cumbersome spiral antennas. By the late1990s if you still had to have a spiral antenna on your car you must not be important enough to have a phone that could fit in your pocket. Then came the Blackberry and then the iPhone and who knows what's next.
Most kids these days are growing up with their parents' old phones as toys. My kids have had their share of retired cell phones to play with, but the problem with those is that they don't work. You can't talk to your friends or siblings on an old phone. If you really want to communicate, you need more reliable technology. That's why my kids have the coolest phone ever invented.
It all started when my oldest daughter read about it in a book and an idea was born. She started with two cans and a string and ended with two cans and a string. Now the kids can actually talk to each other as they burry their faces in the cans and pull the string tight. The best part about it is when your four-year-old son, who always talks too loud, puts his face into the can and seals it against his cheeks before he talks. The result is that it actually muffles the sound down to a tolerable level.
After watching my kids playing with their tin can phones, I had an idea. Since phones are status symbols and the best way to broadcast your status is on the back window of your car, why not come up with a little white window decal that shows two cans connected by a string? Only those with enough status to admit that their kids use such primitive means of communication could actually have one of the stickers. How's that for a new status symbol?
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Rice Cakes
Most parents are pretty naive when it comes to their kids. They live under the false assumption that they need to buy their kids toys in order to raise happy, well-adjusted children. Deep down inside, they probably know that they are wrong, but that doesn't seem to stop them from buying one more toy.
At only two years old, our daughter, Elliana, already knows how unnecessary it is to spend money on toys. She doesn't need fancy games or dolls. She can make a toy out of things that are already laying around the house. As a matter of fact, a few days ago she made a tactile learning environment out of some very basic ingredients.
I was sitting in the living room talking to my wife when we got suspicious. "What's Ellie up to?" Mommy asked.
"I don't know, she's around somewhere," I said.
"I'm going to go find her. She's probably getting into something," Mommy replied. Ten seconds later I heard a voice in the kitchen saying, "Oh no! You have to come look at this."
"Should I bring a camera?" I asked.
"No, just come look." When I arrived Ellie was sitting in the pantry happily playing. On the bottom shelf we have two large matching containers. One has rice and the other is full of flour. Ellie was scooping the rice out and putting it into the flour. Then she scooped flour out and put it into the rice.
Fortunately the containers are clear so we could see the extent of the damage by looking through the sides. It looked like the flour had worked its way through the top two inches of the rice, so Mommy scooped that part out. The flour container just looked like it had rice on top and was not mixed in, so that was a relatively easy fix as well. We thought.
The next day I made pancakes for breakfast. As I was chewing my first bite, something a little crunchy and a little chewy got stuck in my tooth. At first I thought it was a chunk of syrup that had dried on the lip of the bottle and fallen onto my pancake. Then I looked up and saw a strange look on Mommy's face. "Is there something crunchy in your pancake?" I asked.
"Yeah, what is it?" she asked back.
"I have something crunchy in mine," Zach said fishing around for it with his tongue. A second later he spit out a small white chunk. "Rice?"
"Why is there rice in our pancakes?" Maddie asked.
"I think I know," I said. Apparently Ellie's little hands-on experiment had caused the rice to infiltrate the flour a little more deeply than we had thought. The good news, though, is that when we had rice for dinner, at least it was flour-free.
At only two years old, our daughter, Elliana, already knows how unnecessary it is to spend money on toys. She doesn't need fancy games or dolls. She can make a toy out of things that are already laying around the house. As a matter of fact, a few days ago she made a tactile learning environment out of some very basic ingredients.
I was sitting in the living room talking to my wife when we got suspicious. "What's Ellie up to?" Mommy asked.
"I don't know, she's around somewhere," I said.
"I'm going to go find her. She's probably getting into something," Mommy replied. Ten seconds later I heard a voice in the kitchen saying, "Oh no! You have to come look at this."
"Should I bring a camera?" I asked.
"No, just come look." When I arrived Ellie was sitting in the pantry happily playing. On the bottom shelf we have two large matching containers. One has rice and the other is full of flour. Ellie was scooping the rice out and putting it into the flour. Then she scooped flour out and put it into the rice.
Fortunately the containers are clear so we could see the extent of the damage by looking through the sides. It looked like the flour had worked its way through the top two inches of the rice, so Mommy scooped that part out. The flour container just looked like it had rice on top and was not mixed in, so that was a relatively easy fix as well. We thought.
The next day I made pancakes for breakfast. As I was chewing my first bite, something a little crunchy and a little chewy got stuck in my tooth. At first I thought it was a chunk of syrup that had dried on the lip of the bottle and fallen onto my pancake. Then I looked up and saw a strange look on Mommy's face. "Is there something crunchy in your pancake?" I asked.
"Yeah, what is it?" she asked back.
"I have something crunchy in mine," Zach said fishing around for it with his tongue. A second later he spit out a small white chunk. "Rice?"
"Why is there rice in our pancakes?" Maddie asked.
"I think I know," I said. Apparently Ellie's little hands-on experiment had caused the rice to infiltrate the flour a little more deeply than we had thought. The good news, though, is that when we had rice for dinner, at least it was flour-free.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Graduation
Its June and everyone talks about graduation in June, so why should I be any different? Yesterday I talked about matriculation, so it only makes sense that I bring up the subject of graduation today. I'll start with junior high.
As a kid, I was a decent student. I got a lot of A's and B's and an occasional C. Towards the end of my eighth grade year, my dad wanted to motivate me to get straight A's. He knew I really wanted a mountain bike, so he used that as a motivation tool. If I could get straight A's at the end of eighth grade, he would buy me the bike I wanted as a graduation gift.
I worked hard and pulled off all A's...almost. I was taking the advanced math class that year, so it was a little harder than the regular class. When report cards came around, I looked at the big fat B with disgust. I showed it to my dad who came up with a compromise. He told me that he would pay for half the bike, but I'd have to pay for the other. The bike I wanted cost about $500, so that meant that the one B in math cost me $250, but I worked hard for about six weeks and earned the money and bought the bike before we left for our annual camping trip to Lake Almanor.
A few years later when my older brother graduated from high school, my parents bought him a ring. As my turn to graduate came along, my mom asked me if I wanted a ring as well. I told her that I didn't see a whole lot of usefulness in a ring and that I'd prefer something more useful. My parents came through on that one. As I unwrapped my graduation gift I found something far better than a ring. I found wrenches. Lots of wrenches. A whole set of useful socket wrenches. I felt so sorry for my brother at that moment. I could just imagine him trying to tighten a bolt with that lousy ring.
Then came college. Shortly after I got married in the middle of my senior year, my beloved mountain bike got stolen. Sure I'd had it for nearly ten years by that point, but it was still as awesome as it had been on day one. My wife and I actually graduated on the same day, so we had a dual party that afternoon, just before my little sister rushed off to her senior prom. The gift this time was wrapped under a blanket in the living room of my parents house.
When I pulled the blanket off, there was a new bike, with even more modern bells and whistles than the previous one. That one lasted another ten years until I inadvertently left the garage door open one night and someone else mistakenly thought that my bike was theirs.
Even though both mountain bikes are now gone, I still enjoy riding my bike. Last summer I bought a new one and now I ride it all the time. As for the wrenches. They're still in my garage and get used every time I find a bolt that needs tightening or loosening. One of these days I'll have to ask my brothers what ever happened to their rings.
As a kid, I was a decent student. I got a lot of A's and B's and an occasional C. Towards the end of my eighth grade year, my dad wanted to motivate me to get straight A's. He knew I really wanted a mountain bike, so he used that as a motivation tool. If I could get straight A's at the end of eighth grade, he would buy me the bike I wanted as a graduation gift.
I worked hard and pulled off all A's...almost. I was taking the advanced math class that year, so it was a little harder than the regular class. When report cards came around, I looked at the big fat B with disgust. I showed it to my dad who came up with a compromise. He told me that he would pay for half the bike, but I'd have to pay for the other. The bike I wanted cost about $500, so that meant that the one B in math cost me $250, but I worked hard for about six weeks and earned the money and bought the bike before we left for our annual camping trip to Lake Almanor.
A few years later when my older brother graduated from high school, my parents bought him a ring. As my turn to graduate came along, my mom asked me if I wanted a ring as well. I told her that I didn't see a whole lot of usefulness in a ring and that I'd prefer something more useful. My parents came through on that one. As I unwrapped my graduation gift I found something far better than a ring. I found wrenches. Lots of wrenches. A whole set of useful socket wrenches. I felt so sorry for my brother at that moment. I could just imagine him trying to tighten a bolt with that lousy ring.
Then came college. Shortly after I got married in the middle of my senior year, my beloved mountain bike got stolen. Sure I'd had it for nearly ten years by that point, but it was still as awesome as it had been on day one. My wife and I actually graduated on the same day, so we had a dual party that afternoon, just before my little sister rushed off to her senior prom. The gift this time was wrapped under a blanket in the living room of my parents house.
When I pulled the blanket off, there was a new bike, with even more modern bells and whistles than the previous one. That one lasted another ten years until I inadvertently left the garage door open one night and someone else mistakenly thought that my bike was theirs.
Even though both mountain bikes are now gone, I still enjoy riding my bike. Last summer I bought a new one and now I ride it all the time. As for the wrenches. They're still in my garage and get used every time I find a bolt that needs tightening or loosening. One of these days I'll have to ask my brothers what ever happened to their rings.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Matriculation
Matriculation is not a word you hear everyday, unless, of course, you grew up with my dad. My dad is notorious for his use of words like matriculate and ubiquitous. As a matter of fact, on more than one occasion I caught him reading the dictionary just to learn new words to confuse us with. Needless to say, we had opportunities to celebrate things during our growing up years that other kids may not have celebrated simply because our dad knew that there was a word for such an event. Matriculation was one of those events that occurred every summer in our home.
To matriculate, for those of you who haven't yet clicked over to Dictionary.com, typically refers to enrolling in college or a specific course of study, but it can also mean to reach an academic standard. In the setting of the American school system, that standard is the completion of a grade level. Dad was always careful to distinguish between graduation and matriculation. Graduation was something that occurred at the end of junior high or high school. All other grades culminated in a matriculation.
Fortunately, there were lots of opportunities to matriculate during our educational careers, so we had plenty of chances to capitalize on those events. The whole matriculation tradition began the summer after I finished second grade. Somehow I had managed to figure out all the borrowing and carrying and was being passed on to third grade. My younger brother was moving up to second and my older brother was moving on to fourth grade. It was at the start of this summer that Dad thought it would be a good idea to get us our first matriculation gift.
I remember that night quite vividly. The gift was in a long narrow box and we were clueless. When we opened it, we found a blue canvas bag with more blue canvas inside. Still clueless. "It's a tent," Dad said. "Let's set it up." So we did. I can't remember exactly how we did it because this was an old-fashioned Boy Scout-type tent that had to be staked to the ground in order to be set up. Since we were on the green shag carpet next to the yellow floral couch in the living room, I'm not sure how we pulled it off, but we did.
I remember climbing inside that tiny blue tent that night with my brothers and playing in it right there in the living room, completely clueless about the fact that in a matter of weeks the three of us would be sleeping inside it up in the mountains as the adults sat around a camp fire telling stories about the last time a bear came into camp.
That summer was the first time my family went on vacation to Lake Almanor in Northern California. It's been about thirty years since that matriculation gift and camping trip and the tradition continues today, only now I'm the dad and my kids are in the tent.
Friday, June 7, 2013
Soft Spot
Everyone has a soft spot. We all have something that we can't resist. For me, it's hamburgers, especially from In-N-Out. I consider myself quite lucky actually. My weakness only costs a couple of bucks so I can afford to give in every once in a while. For others their weakness might be chocolate or even seeking thrills. When a soft spot involves years of commitment following each indulgence, you have to be careful.
I suppose a lot of moms have a soft spot for thier kids, so my wife is really quite normal in that area, but let's take a look at this mathematically and see where it leads. Start with a soft spot for her kids, multiply that by five, then add pets and what do you get? Now do you see where this is going?
Last October we ended up with two new cats and fish all in the same day. For the past eight months the cats and the fish have coexisted somewhat peacefully. Sure the cats like to drink the water from the fish bowl and taunt the little guy from time to time, but there has yet to be any real harm. This friendly banter, however, makes my wife nervous. Recently Mommy started complaining that the fish bowl was big and didn't really have a place where it belonged so she came up with a plan. After I had committed myself to blowing up the inflatable swimming pool and watching the younger kids in it, Mommy said, "I'm taking Zach and Maddie to the store to get a new fish bowl."
That sounded innocent enough, except for the fact that she was going to a pet store and I would be powerless to stop her. "Oh no," I thought to myself. "This will not end well." As I sat on the couch in the garage watching the kids swimming in the driveway like the good Southern California redneck that I am, I thought of something that I needed to ask my son, so I called my wife's phone and asked to speak to him.
Guess what Little Miss Soft Spot said to me as soon as she answered? "Can we get an aquarium and a bunch of fish? They're on sale."
"Ahhhhhhhh!" my inner voice silently screamed as the outer voice simply said, "No."
Fortunately she kinda listened. Instead of buying a huge aquarium she decided to scale back, but still insisted that Zach's Beta fish, Arrow, needed a companion. Betas have to be alone since they tend to fight with each other, but fortunately, someone in the land of pet inventions came up with a little fish bowl that is divided into two sections so you can have two Betas. What good is a two part fish bowl with only one fish?
For the most part disaster was averted, but not entirely. Now we have two dogs, two cats, two fish, and a hamster. Since the first fish was already named Arrow, Maddie named her new fish Bow. Now we have a Bow and Arrow sitting on our mantle. Who else can make that claim?
I suppose a lot of moms have a soft spot for thier kids, so my wife is really quite normal in that area, but let's take a look at this mathematically and see where it leads. Start with a soft spot for her kids, multiply that by five, then add pets and what do you get? Now do you see where this is going?
Last October we ended up with two new cats and fish all in the same day. For the past eight months the cats and the fish have coexisted somewhat peacefully. Sure the cats like to drink the water from the fish bowl and taunt the little guy from time to time, but there has yet to be any real harm. This friendly banter, however, makes my wife nervous. Recently Mommy started complaining that the fish bowl was big and didn't really have a place where it belonged so she came up with a plan. After I had committed myself to blowing up the inflatable swimming pool and watching the younger kids in it, Mommy said, "I'm taking Zach and Maddie to the store to get a new fish bowl."
That sounded innocent enough, except for the fact that she was going to a pet store and I would be powerless to stop her. "Oh no," I thought to myself. "This will not end well." As I sat on the couch in the garage watching the kids swimming in the driveway like the good Southern California redneck that I am, I thought of something that I needed to ask my son, so I called my wife's phone and asked to speak to him.
Guess what Little Miss Soft Spot said to me as soon as she answered? "Can we get an aquarium and a bunch of fish? They're on sale."
"Ahhhhhhhh!" my inner voice silently screamed as the outer voice simply said, "No."
Fortunately she kinda listened. Instead of buying a huge aquarium she decided to scale back, but still insisted that Zach's Beta fish, Arrow, needed a companion. Betas have to be alone since they tend to fight with each other, but fortunately, someone in the land of pet inventions came up with a little fish bowl that is divided into two sections so you can have two Betas. What good is a two part fish bowl with only one fish?
For the most part disaster was averted, but not entirely. Now we have two dogs, two cats, two fish, and a hamster. Since the first fish was already named Arrow, Maddie named her new fish Bow. Now we have a Bow and Arrow sitting on our mantle. Who else can make that claim?
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Summer Bucket List
Like many terms in the English language, bucket list has lost much of its original meaning. The term first came about as a reference to all the things one would like to do before kicking the bucket. Simply put, once your bucket list is done, you're ready to die.
Given this, you can see why I was a bit disturbed when my daughter posted her summer bucket list on the refrigerator a few weeks ago. Summer "to do" list would be fine, but "bucket" list, I'm not so sure I like the sound of that. Despite the misnomer, she at least set some goals and has targets to aim for, so I can't complain about that. Being the great dad that I am, I helped her reach four out of five of her said objectives before Memorial Day. Let's take a look at her plans.
1. Ride Horses. Done. We signed her up for weekly horseback riding lessons. As a matter of fact she has already been on a trail ride and is preparing for her first riding competition next weekend. Remember the story about the helmets at dinner?
2. Go swimming. Two weekends in a row we went to Grandma and Grandpa's house and the kids spent about four hours straight in the pool. I'd call that one done too.
3. Visit my cousins. This one is a gray area. We saw several cousins at Grandma and Grandpa's house, but I found out after the fact that these were the wrong cousins and the wrong house. What she really wanted to do was visit my brother and his kids five hundred miles away. Technically she has visited cousins, so we could cross it off, but I think she would be a little upset about that. We've scheduled a trip for later in the summer.
4. Go to "Bask and Robbins." I assume this means that she wants ice cream, which we've given her. She knows we don't like to pay for overpriced ice cream, but she does have a gift certificate, so we should be able to accommodate her before the summer ends.
5. Go camping. This one is a done deal. A few weeks ago my parent's church had an overnight campout at the church. We showed up with our trailer, stayed the night, and went home. I think we can count that, but we'll do better next month. We have a few trips planned for later, so she'll be able to cross that one off as well.
As for my own list, I plan to write everyday. Actually, I'm aiming for five times a week on this blog and completing a book. It's an ambitious goal, but so far I've kept up with the blog and have the first 3,000 words done on a book. We'll see if I can get it all done before school starts.
Given this, you can see why I was a bit disturbed when my daughter posted her summer bucket list on the refrigerator a few weeks ago. Summer "to do" list would be fine, but "bucket" list, I'm not so sure I like the sound of that. Despite the misnomer, she at least set some goals and has targets to aim for, so I can't complain about that. Being the great dad that I am, I helped her reach four out of five of her said objectives before Memorial Day. Let's take a look at her plans.
1. Ride Horses. Done. We signed her up for weekly horseback riding lessons. As a matter of fact she has already been on a trail ride and is preparing for her first riding competition next weekend. Remember the story about the helmets at dinner?
2. Go swimming. Two weekends in a row we went to Grandma and Grandpa's house and the kids spent about four hours straight in the pool. I'd call that one done too.
3. Visit my cousins. This one is a gray area. We saw several cousins at Grandma and Grandpa's house, but I found out after the fact that these were the wrong cousins and the wrong house. What she really wanted to do was visit my brother and his kids five hundred miles away. Technically she has visited cousins, so we could cross it off, but I think she would be a little upset about that. We've scheduled a trip for later in the summer.
4. Go to "Bask and Robbins." I assume this means that she wants ice cream, which we've given her. She knows we don't like to pay for overpriced ice cream, but she does have a gift certificate, so we should be able to accommodate her before the summer ends.
5. Go camping. This one is a done deal. A few weeks ago my parent's church had an overnight campout at the church. We showed up with our trailer, stayed the night, and went home. I think we can count that, but we'll do better next month. We have a few trips planned for later, so she'll be able to cross that one off as well.
As for my own list, I plan to write everyday. Actually, I'm aiming for five times a week on this blog and completing a book. It's an ambitious goal, but so far I've kept up with the blog and have the first 3,000 words done on a book. We'll see if I can get it all done before school starts.
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