Well, THAT was disappointing...

Last night, I had the privilege of attending Game Three of the 2011 World Series at Rangers Ballpark in Arlington. My Texas Rangers were soundly drubbed by the visiting St. Louis Cardinals 16-7. It was an ugly game all around for the Rangers… poor pitching, poor fielding, and not enough offense. Albert Pujols, the Cardinals first baseman, went 5 for 6 with THREE home runs. It was ugly.

But those things are all part of a game. A game I love. I have followed the Rangers for years, and those who know me will attest that I am not a casual fan. I really enjoy baseball in general and the Texas Rangers in particular. And as a Rangers fan, I have had the opportunity to see ugly on more than this occasion. It is unfortunate that my team chose this game to have a clunker, I’m not sure I’ll ever have the opportunity to go to another World Series game, but in the big picture, I did get to go see my team in the World Series! In the wisdom of the character I can’t name from The Water Boy, “Ee iv uh pay anole dee,” which I’m pretty sure translates to, “We live to play another day.” The fact that the Rangers got pummeled the game I went to see is not devastating, just part of this game I love.

What should not have been part of this game I love was the experience at Rangers Ballpark last night. I am not a first-time guest to the Ballpark. This was my fifth game this summer. The Ballpark was part of Mother’s Day (Thank you again, Sharona, for pretending like you WANTED to go to a baseball game for Mother’s Day!) and July 4^th for me this year. And this is an every year activity for me; I could probably guide a decent tour of the Ballpark. And, until last night, I have enjoyed every single game, win or lose. Last night, I was embarrassed.

I was embarrassed that I had so solidly endorsed the Ballpark and baseball as one of the few remaining places my friend could take his two boys (ages 13 and 9) to without worrying about censoring or having to sheepdog them. This was baseball! At the price of World Series tickets, I was fairly comfortable that we would be dealing with baseball type people. At least other people who could afford those tickets and treat the game with respect, right? This was going to be a community of people who loved the game as I did, from two great baseball cities, sharing in a heated competition for bragging rights… but treating each other with respect.

I know the Rangers are still relatively new kids on the block. That would be the block that houses the respected, perennial winners of Major League titles. And I know that sometimes it takes fans a season to understand how to carry themselves like championship caliber fans. In my opinion, championship caliber fans are those who support their team, but aren’t afraid to be hospitable to the fans who are visiting. The greatest compliment I can imagine would be the Cardinal fans going back to St. Louis and telling all of their friends, “Well, the Rangers beat our butts, but it was one of the greatest baseball towns! They knew the game, respected the game, and treated us well.” And I’m not being Polly Anna here. I’m not suggesting we don’t give them a little crap, or sing “Let’s go Rangers!” with accompanying claps! But the St. Louis Cardinals are in this series because they beat everyone they needed to in the National League. They earned the right to be here. And unlike Tampa Bay, who couldn’t get their fans to support them when they needed most, St. Louis fans are knowledgeable (albeit NL rules) fans who appreciate great baseball.

This is not the experience my friends two children, and certainly not the experience the St. Louis fans in the upper Home Run Porch experienced. Instead, they were treated to cliché-ic drunken fools who couldn’t speak a single complete sentence that didn’t include cursing. And not the PG curse words, we’re talking “F” bombs and the like. And as is often the way it works, soon it was becoming a contest for volume and creative usage of profanity. I can also tell you that, at $6.50 a bottle/can, the concessions are bankrolling next year’s player payroll pretty easily. Unfortunately… that’s not a strong enough word…to my great embarrassment and dismay, the game soon turned on the visiting fans. These people didn’t do anything to deserve this treatment beyond supporting their team and raising a few signs.

It was even sadder that these St. Louis fans originally thought the exchange was going to be good natured. They were mistaken. I publically apologize to those fans in my section that were treated so poorly. I didn’t participate, I was trying to shield two young men and keep their attention focused elsewhere, but I was thoroughly embarrassed and want you to know that not every Rangers fan feels that way about you or your team.

As the game wore on, and the score got away from the Rangers, my friend took his children back down to the centerfield area that has different baseball skill games. Though somewhat numb by this point, imagine my amazement as I watched an adult man stagger into the children’s’ area with bloodshot, glassed-over eyes and stop. Oblivious to anyone else, he began ejecting every snack and beverage of his evening onto the ground at the entrance to the pitching cage with the speed gun attached. Not once… repeatedly. Classy, sir, classy.

Fellow Rangers fans, while our team has grown into a classy, championship caliber team before our very eyes, we have not made the same growth as fans. I have seen experienced players encourage younger players after flashes of greatness or success, “Act like you’ve been here before.” The message translates. The State of Texas I grew up in was often characterized and applauded for its friendliness and hospitality. For those of you, who haven’t had the opportunity to practice these traits in public situations, let me encourage you to find some more experienced Texans that can model this behavior for you. In short, act like you’ve been here! If you can’t, please don’t wear Rangers attire that might confuse the rest of our children, or our guests that we condone your behavior.

Game Four is on TV now, and I am screaming, “Nap-o-li!” in my living room. I still believe. These Rangers are made of championship stuff, in spite of the off night they had yesterday. It is my greatest hope that yesterday was simply an off night for the fans  as well.

Hello son...

It's been a long time coming... but it seems just like yesterday.

Today is going to be one of those days. One of those days that you file away and remember. And I'm glad you could be here for it.

Sometime in the last two decades a thought began forming. When it first began forming it wasn't so detailed. In fact, it could have been characterized more by what I hoped against more than what I hoped for. But as time has marched along, more and more clarity has come. This thought has never been so pressing that it dominated all others. Yet, it has always demanded some of my thought life.

When I met my daughter for the first time, my life changed. There are three arrows in my quiver, and I would fight for them all... but there is this dynamic that occurs between daddies and daughters. It has been a beautiful ride, these last twenty years. I can remember promising her on one of our late night walks through the house, as I held her head in the palm of one hand and her bottom in the other, that I would only give her the best I could give her.

It's a tricky business deciding what kind of man you want for your daughter. It forces you to reevaluate how you've treated young ladies in your own life. I used to wonder why some fathers looked at me the way they did. Looking at my daughter, I came full circle. I also tried not to preconceive socioeconomic, or even culturally profile. Yes, sir...it's a tricky business indeed.

Eventually, you realize it's not about what YOU want anyway...

I would like to tell you that I have enjoyed getting to know you. I liked you pretty much from the first time I met you. I'm glad I had the opportunity to get to know you and see what a hard working and straight up young man you are. I learned that I could trust you to do what you said you were going to do, even in the small things. And it's interesting that SK took to you even more quickly.

I have to tell you that I never saw it coming. I never imagined that you might be the one early on. But I also have to tell you that you have undoubtedly become the one. (Good thing, huh?)

It's not important, but you fulfill so many of the points on my twenty-year-old checklist. But, what is more important, you have captured her heart.

I have watched you two. Closely. And I smile...

So, today life changes for all of us. It has been easier than I imagined to learn to share her with you, but still so hard to let go of her attention. She has been daddy's girl... it would be hard to find anybody to argue with that. The truth is, I have been girl's daddy, too. We have laughed until we cried about things no one else understood. We have shared a love of music no one else would listen to with us. We have communicated with out words for most of her life.

But I want you to know, I welcome you. I am excited for you both. I can't wait to see the life you create together, following the One who creates through you both.

You see, the thought has gained clarity. The man I was looking for turned out to be a little taller than I first imagined!

But God has helped me see, you are the man He was looking for. You make my daughter happy. You aren't afraid to help her, even to your own hurt. You do have her best interests at heart. You are all the things that I could have ever hoped for my daughter.

I know it's one of those weird, awkward things... all of us working together, and trying to keep it separate from the family we've become together. But once again, you have found a simple grace and walked it through.

So, later today the rest of the world will get to publicly see you waiting for my daughter and I at the end of that aisle. I understand and rejoice that you two will be impatiently waiting for that short walk to be over so you can get on with the rest of your lives together. Just be patient with me if I make it as slow as I can... this day has been twenty years in the making for me...

And if, in the hustle and bustle and activity that goes with this special day. If everyone else wants your attention and wants to talk, its fine. But I don't want to miss the opportunity to tell you...

Hello son...

Real life...

My heart is heavy tonight...

Not the kind of heavy like there's something coming up that you know you're not going to like. It's almost like it physically feels weighed down.

A baby left us this past week. And it has affected me permanently. I'm sure that there was more than one baby that passed on this past week, and each one needs to be noted and remembered, but this baby... this baby was different for me. This baby was personal for me. So, up front, to all the other families who remember their babies this week, may the peace of God reign in your hearts, and may you always remember the beautiful moments.

But I wish that you could all have known Ben. Truthfully, I was never introduced face to face, but I feel like a real part of his life...at least he is a very real part of mine. And Ben taught me lessons in his short seven weeks that I will never forget.

Ben was a gift. There are many verses in my Bible that tell me that God agrees with me. Not only a gift, but Psalms tells me that they are a reward! I believe that Ben was a reward and a precious gift to his parents, as is his twin brother. His parents prayed and believed for them with great faith for so many years. Ben's gift was short but powerful. He reminded me that nothing is permanent, to take every opportunity you have to show people you love them. Don't settle for just saying, make it real to them, serve them, LOVE them with every moment.

May I parenthetically interject this: Please, and I know you mean well and it is tough to find words to express some things, but please don't tell me that God took Ben because He needed another angel. I think we make God look a little like an Indian giver (I know, that's not politically correct) when we say that. The Bible says children are a gift, then we say God takes them away again? Let's agree to say that God welcomed him home? I do believe that...

Ben was a source of unity. I was constantly amazed how many people offered Ben words of encouragement, offered his parents words of encouragement and offered to help in real and tangible ways. A community of support grew from everywhere and without any regard to who it might associate one with. It was all about what might help accomplish the goal. Wouldn't it be a fitting tribute if we could learn that lesson on a broad scale? If we learned nothing else from my man, Ben, could we learn that in proper perspective, most things shake out less important than we've made them? Maybe we could focus more on ways to come together and mend past grievances, and less on grudges and differences? Not to take anything away from Ben, all of our lives are way to short to spend them all selfishly. Find some common ground, learn the power of forgiveness, make everyone feel welcome. Thanks for reminding me, Ben.

And Ben was a fighter. Ben reminded me that real life isn't in the easy moments. Real life? That's the moments you're scrapping to keep it all together. Real life is happening in those times when everything is resting on hope and prayers. Real life is found in those moments when you don't have any other answer but to keep swinging. Swinging with purpose and might. Grabbing for every precious moment, and finding every precious moment its own victory...

Yes, Ben is a very real part of my life. Ben is my nephew. He and his twin brother were born to my beautiful sister and her husband on February 2, 2010.

And this is why my heart is so heavy, I love my sister. I know how precious these gifts were to her family. But, my sweet baby sister, God's gift of Ben will always live on in you and the incredible man God has given you to share this life. I encourage you, keep leaning on each other now, as you learn what life looks like from this point on. It's still a good life! It's going to be different, to be sure, but it is still good.

I'm so proud of the way you looked after your little man. You gave everything, spared nothing, to make sure Ben had the best life he could. Sister, you gave me a new definition of grace in the way you took consistently overwhelming situations and made them seem like they were just today's to do list. I can't remember one time that your thoughtful explanations and updates weren't markedly optimistic and positive. You and your husband are such a wonderful combination of strengths that compliment each other perfectly.

So, later today, they will be celebrating Ben's life in a church in Virginia. I won't be there, at least not in body. But my heart and mind are extended east as they remember that scrapper Ben.

I take comfort that in Heaven we "will be known as we are known," I'm looking forward to meeting Ben...

Dear Stella...

I got your back...

(I suppose I should welcome my new granddaughter with an entry about how beautiful and amazingly wonderful she is. Well, she is. But I need her to know, first and foremost...)

I got your back!

You see, because you are so beautiful and innocent and full of great potential, you need someone you can count on to be there for you. I'm your guy!

This isn't the world Grandad grew up in. I'm so glad you're here, but this is a pretty hazardous time to arrive, my love. You've arrived in The Golden Age of Selfishness. There is so little respect for other people.

One of Grandad's favorite movies is "Blast From The Past." It didn't win any awards. Most people probably brush it aside as fluff... but I love it. Adam, the main character played by Brandon Fraser, has lived separated from the world in a bomb shelter for the first 35 years of his life, and then is suddenly thrown into the world without much explanation. At one point in the movie, Adam explains to some of the people he has met that, "the short and simple definition of a lady or a gentleman is, someone who always tries to make sure the people around him or her are as comfortable as possible."

And he says, "Manners are a way of showing others we care about them."

This isn't the world you have entered, my tiny one. This seems to be a world that is more and more everyday interested only in self. What makes ME comfortable? A world that is so convinced that each person's personal interests are more important than anyone else's, so manners are becoming more rare. I would say endangered, even.

You see it in the way people drive. Traffic laws are more about what is common practice than what is right or wrong. If people think they can win a race between you and them to the place they want to be, they will try to beat you. Or they just figure insurance will replace whatever they break, so they turn in front you even if you have to pull off a trick worthy of Houdini to avoid a collision. Speed limits are suggestions. Your Uncle Jared was told in Driver's Ed to stay the speed of the traffic around him, regardless of the posted speed limit.

You see it in shopping centers, be it the parking lot or the stores. Everyone is racing to be first and to get the best spots or sales.

You see it in the way kid's activities have become all too serious. When Grandad played youth baseball, he was given a t-shirt and a cap. Most of us wore jeans and tennis shoes. It was not the focus of my life. No one screamed at me and called me names laced with expletives if I struck out or missed a play. And I usually went home happy.

Just want you to know, I got your back. I'm here for YOU kiddo.

And before you get to caught up in all the technology, and we've got plenty of it to throw at you, don't ever forget that NOTHING takes the place of one on one, face to face communication. Text me if you need to, but hug me every chance you get. It really is better.

I don't mean to paint a gloomy picture, little one. There are plenty of things to smile at and be encouraged about still around in this world. I usually wear rose-colored glasses myself. But, reality forces me to point out these small deficiencies.

Your Aunt Kaylea is one of the greatest girls in the whole world. She's always gonna be my baby girl! But if you ask her, I think she'd tell you it's true, from time to time you'll need me...I've had her back, too.

You're beautiful, baby Stella...your Mom and Dad will do great... but if and when you need me, remember...

I got your back!

The Dark Side of Facebook

Is Facebook here forever? Now, before you answer, remember Xanga? It took me way too long to let go of Xanga and dabble in My Space. Does anybody remember how to get to his or her Xanga page? Then, I remember thinking My Space was the best that there would ever be. It’s amazing how quickly the world shifts sometimes.

So, now we’re in the age of Facebook. What a great tool to connect and reconnect friends from so many different places. It truly is a great way to catch up and see how everyone turned out, right?

There is a dark side.

As much as I enjoy making new connections. As addicting as pushing the Facebook app on the iPhone can be. There is a dark side. And it leaves me somewhat uncomfortable. Sooner or later it happens. You log in to see all the witty status updates and top news stories, and there it is in your notifications. Someone you really don’t care to reconnect with. And they want to be your friend.

Hasn’t happened to you? You say, “I’ll add anybody!” Fine. The dark side has other ways to find you. You are happily scrolling through the home page reading updates and looking at wall photos, etc. And there they are. Someone you hurt either intentionally or unintentionally. And you get to relive that as you stare at the screen, wondering if to them, you are the person they really wouldn’t care to reconnect with. The human tendency is to remember the past in a positive light. We all hope we have been remembered well, as a good memory. But, sometimes Facebook forces us to accept the fact that it wasn’t all happy.

I have friends/connections right now that I struggle with every time I see one of their posts. My usual reaction is, “I’m removing that connection!” And I probably should. There are certain standards and life experiences that I have adopted, and many that I have left behind. But, I would rather not sow that seed. I’m sure that I have been that person to someone else, and I would like to think that eventually they might come to realize that I’m not that person anymore. So, I would rather hold on to people as long as I can in the hope that I will see through the eyes of one who is forgiven and forgives.

While we’re on the subject, I want you to know that I am well aware that during periods of my life, you would be hard pressed to find anyone more selfish or self centered than I was. I know I was loud and outspoken, but it might have been a cover up for incredible insecurity, a mask for a young man who’s greatest fear was that he was as big of a social handicap as he suspected.

May I take a moment to say, “I’m sorry”? I know it doesn’t change anything. But it is sincere. I wouldn’t have room or time to personally name each of you, and that’s probably for the best! Some of you I have wanted to apologize to for years. Some of you, the dark side has just recently reminded me of that need. Whatever the case, I’m sorry.

And realize, I’m good with never hearing from you if you choose to take this opportunity to forgive. I just don’t want to be on the dark side of Facebook for you anymore…

Eureka!

I think I've finally figured it out. It isn't our fault. I have figured out how old guys transform from cool...well, pretty cool...okay, would you go for at least current...into the stereotypical old guy with no fashion sense.

And it isn't our fault.

Now, we all know the universal male joke. Show of hands for all the guys who have innocently become the subject of female piling on for the lack of ability to match colors (because that matters), or because we hold on too long to the comfortable underwear, regardless of thread count. Every male has felt that humiliation at some point, or will in the very near future. But, what I'm speaking of is the level beneath that.

I'm talking about the guys who wear black socks and dress shoes with their shorts. I'm talking about the guys who think it's acceptable to wear the one piece coverall jumpsuits with the stretchy, elastic belt that connects with the cool metal puzzle pieces. (Parenthetically, my dad and I had a matching set of light blue coveralls when I was five-ish...really) Or even the guys who wear tube socks with 2-inch stripes, with all the elasticity gone so they fall unevenly down around the ankle. How does this happen?

The answer to this mystery can begin to be unraveled with a few questions. Next time you see one of these men you so openly point out and laugh at, ask yourself, is this man a father? I would lean toward a blanket statement that the vast majority are, indeed, fathers. And the follow up question would be, is this man a father of a teenager? Undoubtedly.

There it is. I've exposed the ugly truth. Show me a man who dresses in such a way that his teenaged children are embarrassed, no, mortified at his clothing decisions, and I'll show you a man who has learned to dress out of self-defense.

Let's create a scenario to prove my hypothesis. It's the final few minutes before our father of three has to bolt out the door for a day he will spend hard at work making the life of blissful entitlement his children have come to take for granted. All he needs to complete his wardrobe are his socks. The cool, comfortable socks that he bought just to make his hard day bearable on his poor feet. He opens the sock drawer...empty. Well, empty but for the singles that he hasn't been able to find the mate for since college. Where have the cool socks gone?

Deflated but not defeated, he moves to the closet, thinking that he might move past this disappointment by wearing the new shirt his wife picked out for him. The shirt that hasn't faded from over washing or fallen into permanent collar crease yet. Sadly, after rummaging through the closet for several costly minutes, the search comes up fruitless.

Gone also are several belts and his favorite sports team windbreaker/hoodie.

Where has this poor man's wardrobe gone, you ask? All you have to do is open the door to his kids rooms and sift through the refuse long enough, and I promise you will find almost all of the clothing. It is an age old conspiracy. And I suppose I should accept it. After three kids, representing each gender, I should stop fighting their instinctual behavior, and just accept that this happens.

I get to wear something once. This is kind of like walking the runway at a fashion show. I walk through the house modeling the latest fashion as the kids take notes and make it a point to be on the look out for an opportunity.

Early on, this was a game. The oldest child would take things, but not wear them until he had left the house. He would also take things off either before he got home, or before I got home to notice. This is not deemed necessary by the current roster. They blatantly wear things right in front of me, and wave a hand at any comment I might make.

What hasn't changed is that kids are smart enough not to put the clothing in question back in the laundry hamper to be reclaimed by dad. I wore it once, they wear it once, then it dies in piles in their rooms. And any subsequent reference to the clothing is met with heavy sighs and eye rolls.

So, I made a painful purchase the other evening. I purposefully picked out clothing that I knew, whether from style, color, or label would be deemed too uncool for a teenager to wear. It wasn't until I was waiting in line to consumate these purchases that the revelation hit me. I didn't WANT to wear these items. I had been pushed to buy these items so I would at least have SOMETHING to wear!

And the truth shall set you free. We aren't fashion disasters out of want or callused indifference. We have been mistreated and pushed to this unenviable place. It is a cry for help. Our children have left us with no options or alternatives.

So, the next time you see a sad man walking in public in clothing that you would never be caught dead wearing, count how many years you have until your children are teenagers...it's closer than you think!

I'm spending the morning at Medical Center Hospital this morning with the love of my life.

Yesterday, I was in San Antonio for the Annual Texas Bandmasters Association (TBA) convention when my phone rang. It was the new manager of the Midland store letting me know he was taking my wife to the doctor. An hour later my phone rang again. This time it was my friend letting me know he was with my wife taking her to get a CAT scan for a possible stone in her kidney. So, I packed up the Scion, picked up my Abilene counterpart, and headed for Odessa.

I've never dealt with stones of any kind, but this experience with my wife and all those who helped her has convinced me that there can be very few pains worse.

So, here I am. We've been here since 6:00 a.m. I've watched her sleep. Prayed for her. Played on the computer and phone. And they say that sometime soon, we'll be going in for the super cool ultrasonic laser to break up the 1 x 4 cm stone that is sitting in her kidney causing the pain.

Guess it's a good time to put up the next installment of the summer vacations. After KK and I spent a weekend in San Antonio, my wife and son and I spent most of the next week in Dallas with our really good friends. This was a nice time of conversation, relaxing, and a lot of LAUGHING!

One morning, the guys all decided a tour of the new Cowboys Stadium in Arlington would be fun. So, we loaded up and took the thirty minute drive to the new stadium. It is a HUGE structure. Colossal comes to mind. But we were interested at how much activity was going on. There were tons of cars and people walking around. There were uniformed people directing traffic, and lots of concession type vehicles. We thought, "Wow, people are really excited about this new stadium!"

Jared was pretty stoked when this little Red Bull Mini-Cooper pulled up and two attractive young women asked him if he would be interested in a free Red Bull.

We also saw the Jerry Jones. He was a bigger man than I had pictured him to be. And the plastic surgery is going south pretty bad...

Turns out, we picked the day of American Idol auditions to try and tour Cowboys Stadium. So, they turned us away. We tried to sneak in a couple of different doors to get a look, and most people were very friendly, but the tour...FAIL.

We did go through the Pro Shop, interesting how that was open and going well, and managed to

sneak a few pictures of the interior. I was

surprised that when we were there, they still didn't have any turf down at all. I understand that they put some in a few weeks back for a soccer event.

I've already come to grips with the fact that I won't be able to afford tickets to any games for a while (I never went to Texas Stadium either, however), but it was neat to see the stadium for perspective when I watch them this fall on TV.

JJ spent a day at Woodward trying out his newest tricks and skills.

We also did a lot of shopping. SK found a new coolest place ever to go dreaming. If you've never been to an IKEA store, SK believes that it is the closest thing to Disneyland for adults! We saw amazing things!

One of the great places we ate was called Buca di Beppo. It's a family-style Italian restaurant. SK isn't too sure the food was the best she'd ever eaten, but it was fun. Couple of shots of the gang.

We came home from Dallas on a Sunday, then SK, our Abilene road rep, and I took off on Monday for Indiana to tour the Conn-Selmer plants. More about that next time!

Summer '09, pt. 1

Sometimes I think that I am the mental equivalent to Benjamin Button.

Whereas, unfortunately, I am definitely NOT experiencing any physical reversals as I grow older, and believe me my body has been deliberate about showing me ways I am growing older, I am finding myself thinking more like a child lately.

For so many years, because of my job, summer was just a busy time. There was very little family recreation or trips, etc. And I'm sad to say that debriefing myself from this mindset has taken so much longer than I would have thought. But, this summer, we had a breakout!

The idea was quality, individual time with my kids. My kids are all so unique, it's hard to find a single activity that everyone enjoys. But we planned special weekends for KK and JJ, and mom and I found some time to share as well.

I am typing this on the night of my last official day off for a good while. And I feel like a school kid who isn't ready for summer to be over. I've enjoyed my family so much this summer. It is hard to look back and realize how many summers could have been this much fun, but it's also probably not going to change anything either, hmmm? So, I am thankful for the memories of this summer, and I'm already looking forward to planning Summer '10.

I think the easiest way is to break the summer trips down, so over several entries, I'll try!

First up was KK. KK and I took off for San Antonio in June. On the agenda: father/daughter shopping and "Wicked."

The ride down in the Scion xB began auspiciously enough! Our brand new AC unit quit working in the middle of the night, so at 5:00 a.m. I found myself in the attic checking it out. A quick shower and we got on our way about 5:45 a.m. in one of the heaviest rains we had seen in West Texas in quite a while. The rain quickly put KK back to sleep and we hydroplaned to San Angelo, where we stopped for a little caffeine and taquitos/honey butter chicken biscuits.

Once out of San Angelo, KK perked up and introduced Pappy to John Mayer's live album. Not so bad.

In San Antonio, North Star Mall occupied several hours, and then Pappadeaux was a must. KK loves her some shrimp. Her allergic father settled for chicken.

We made it back to the hotel, and then it was showtime!

KK and I were both familiar with the music of "Wicked," but we both found it very interesting that the story we had created in our minds wasn't entirely accurate. The show had much more humor than we expected. We were impressed with the talent and the sets that were created in the historic Majestic theater.

Got a couple of probably illegal shots of the show and the theater.

After the show, KK and I walked to Starbucks on the River Walk, spent some time walking up and down the river people watching, and headed back to the hotel.

The next morning was an easy, no rush morning, check-out, and off to another mall for more shopping before heading back to the big OD.

It was a fast trip, but KK hasn't worked long enough to have earned vacation time, so we had to squeeze everything into the time she had off.

KK and I have always enjoyed each other's company, and this weekend was a great time to catch up on her life, hear her hopes, and thank God for such a wonderful daughter!

Indefinite article indecision...

Sometimes it amazes me, and is a form of entertainment to many others, the things that will shut my thought process down. For example, looking at the subtitle to this blog, I noticed that I originally had the indefinite article "a" before '07. I had a long argument with myself trying to decide if that was indeed correct, since '07 was technically an abreviation for 2007. But it just didn't read correctly. So after two days of mental debate, I changed it to "an." See my point?

Interestingly enough, I don't suffer these issues when it comes to how I dress. Yesterday was day four of the great spring yard renewal program at our house. Day four was exciting to me, because we were moving past maintenance and upkeep into beautification.

The project d'jour was a new flower bed in the front of the yard. Nothing major, just some color and life for the front of the yard. I remember dad doing a project like this on Mission Mill Ln. I don't remember if the flower bed existed already or if he started from scratch, but it was nice. I am certain I didn't realize how long it took him to do it.

My favorite part of the entire project was walking out in the front yard to get started in front of KK and my wife. KK was mortified that I would walk out the door like that! Oh well...

I've got a few pics to document the project. Notice in the pictures that it keeps getting darker! The Fifth was hanging out with us yesterday as well, and he has a way of throwing schedules off.

The yard started like this:

Notice it's dark now?

Took one more this morning just to take one in the daylight.

The first post...

I'm waiting for the water sprinklers to cycle through. I realize this probably strikes you as an amazingly boring evening, and I understand why you would think this way. But it keeps me on task.

You see, our sprinkler system is at least 20 years old at this point. Most people I know with sprinkler systems now have the cool digital display that looks a lot like most thermostats. Not me! My sprinkler system brain is mounted to the wall in a 1-foot square box with a huge dial that allows you to set the amount of time each station will water. Unfortunately, although it does fine while it's actually on a station, it won't cycle from station to station without a little manual encouragement. So every 30 minutes, I truck out to the garage to advance the little wheel another station.

This means I have had 30 minute blocks all evening to accomplish things. Sort of like your TV shows.

Tonight, it is a necessary task. I mowed and fertilized the yard for the first time yesterday and this evening. I know, that probably puts me behind the rest of the world, but it's just about right for us. So I have to do the sprinkler chaperoning to make sure the fertilizer is soaked into hard West Texas ground.

Tomorrow night we get to apply the pesticides (flea, tick, and other pests). This means we get to let the girls (puppies) in while I apply it. And, by the way, our youngest dachshund is with pups. We're not very excited. I lost an extended battle trying to keep our new neighbors' chihuahua out of our back yard.

I hear that chiweenies are pretty popular. Hope so. Yo quiero Wienerschnitzel.

Many of you haven't had an opportunity to see much of our grandson. The Fifth just had his second birthday in March. We really enjoy the opportunities we have to spend with him. He can be so much like his father, yet so uniquely himself. It's fascinating to see how much he changes from week to week.

This is his newest trick. He's howling like the dogs when they hear a siren. He figured this out pretty much on his own, and it is his newest "go-to" move when he's afraid he might be in trouble. He actually prefers to have everyone do this with him.

This year for my birthday, my beautiful wife gave me/us a set of recliners for the living room. You would have thought the boxes were specially shipped for the Fifth's entertainment. He spent the entire evening closing himself up in the boxes, then patiently waiting for someone to "discover" he was in there, then laughing as if it was the first time, every time. I think there is a lesson to share with the world there. Eventually, it wasn't enough for him to be in the box alone, he wanted someone to go in with him. Everyone took a turn being excited to spend time in the recliner boxes. We managed to sneak a pretty good picture of his family while they were spending some quality time together in the box. This was fortunate, since his dad shies away from cameras on most occasions.

Hopefully, you will all get to meet him before much longer. He's just too much joy to keep to ourselves forever!

So, here's a few more of the unlimited supply of pictures we have of this funny little guy.

(My wife wants me to make sure and explain that he thinks every birthday is HIS birthday. We've had seven different parties at our house this spring, so he knows the drill pretty well by now. She feels like this is important for you to know because she would hate for anyone to look at the following pictures and think we had a "Princess" cake for his birthday! This was KK's 19th, but of course, he had to blow out the candles. They were actually sparklers, which messed with him a little, but he thought it was great!)