Things you see in the woods...

Uncle!

For the second time in as many months, I am an Uncle! This time it's via my baby brother Dan Girt. The new clan member is Maximus Leeland Girt, who was officially measured as 8.5 pounds and 21.25 inches long upon ejection from the birth canal.

I've often mused the notion of being an Uncle. I have so many fond memories of my own uncles that I feel I need to pay them homage by being a great uncle myself. My mom and dads brothers (and sister, God rest her soul) were safe examples of the variety of human beings that I'd encounter. They were all very different from each other, having varied interests, personalities, directions in life. And being that they were all family, were also very kind and supportive of me which led to a healthy measure to which I could grow and develop as a person.

I think Uncles and Aunts have an angle on parenting that the natural parents sometimes can't get to. There's that adult connection a child has to an Aunt/Uncle thats still grown up, but separated a bit from the discipline and order that the parents need to maintain. As long as the Aunt/Uncle has good morals and direction in life, they provide an adult relationship that isn't far removed from the parents.

So, I'll wait patiently for the opportunity to take my nephews for walks, or to shows, or teach them how to play guitar. Maybe they'll be into paintball, and Uncle Rick will get to take them out to mow faces. Maybe they'll be interested in music, and Uncle Rick will get to teach them why metal is the superior form of music. Perhaps they'll be interested in smoking cigars. Uncle Rick will be there to point out the good ones, and how not to buy the cheap drug store crap, like I did when I was a youngster.

Some interesting reading...

I just got done reading this book yesterday. It's Clive Barkers latest
offering after being off for a while. The book is 'demon posessed',
and is trying to convince you to burn it before getting to the end.
Eventually you find out that he has a secret to tell, and he
reluctantly does so in hopes to satiate your curiosity and therefore
release him from his prison. Along the way he graphically details the
major events in his life, much of it very gruesome, almost comically
so. He visits his relationship with a much older and grandiose demon,
which ends up being a love/hate style situation. It reminded me of the
chemistry between Lestat and Luis in "Interview with a Vampire"

Anyway, other than the roleplaying books I've been reading, this is
the second or third offering I've made to myself in this renewed
interest in reading courtesy of an old high school friend I visited a
few weeks ago. I remember the love for the new places reading takes
me, but it's going to be a challenge trying to find time to do so, and
learn to tune outrhe distractions when I do.

We have a tent!

And we're prepared to use it!

Our trip to Virginia was nice. On our way home now, unfortunately
during waking hours though. We usually try to drive thru the night to
avoid the extra frustration from our back seat nagrivators.

Where I Was When M.J. Died

I'm sitting here at my grammas house, seeing the news as it breaks. My
father in law is in one of those pointless coversations with my gramma
about whether or not Radio Shack opens at 9am or at 10am, and that he
thinks they open at 9, bu they probably open at 10, and all the
logistic pros and cons of meeting up at 9am or 10am, and how much
earlier he'd have to leave depending on where they are meeting, and
maybe what traffic will be like. I'm trying to tune them out as the
announcer says that another source claims that he is in fact dead.
Silas moans from the corner "when can we change the channel". Five
hours of cartoons and pre-teen sitcoms on a warm sunny day isn't
enough for my big strapping boys. They stare at the remote like a
savage dog eyes up a toddler that happens to wander off into the woods.
My pragmatic side is telling me this is no big deal, in fact it
doesn't look like a big deal. I even have a rather morbidly humorous
post about it on my facebook.

I was never a Micheal Jackson fan, and I would question the
masculinity of any fellow who was. I liked Thriller, and remember when
I first saw the video on TV. It must have been the beginning of my
facination with zombies. But I'd have to say I liked Weird Al's
version better. Deep down I can't deny his talent though. The talking
head on TV compares him to Elvis and the Beatles. Now that he is
freshly dead, and there is no percieved threat to my machismo, I can
safely agree. It's tragic that he died like this, on the eve of what
might have been his comeback tour. It's tragic that he died at all, as
if he could live forever. Would it have been any better had he died an
old man on a ventilator? Or what if he was found dead David Carradine
style? Maybe that would have at least been in step with the crazyness
that has been surrounding him in recent past.

Truth is, he died young, as in he was younger than my parents. In
addition, he was present somewhere, anywhere, all throughout my
childhood. My kindergarten teacher had his album in our classroom. He
was all over TV. He was the permeating backdrop of my early existance.
And it feels hollow to have a highly recognizable piece of my past
pass from this existance. It's as if you pulled up to your old
neighborhood and another of your neighbors houses sits vacant and in
disrepair.

Well anyway, Godspeed Micheal Jackson.

Indoctrinating The Boys

Last Saturday was Fathers day for me. I was more or less kicked out of
the house with the boys for my sister in laws baby shower. I have to
admit I was indignant at first, but I suppose I was actually a little
relieved. Other than the food, baby showers aren't really my gig. We
first went to go watch Up at the Meadville theater. I can't say enough
good things about this movie, so I won't even try. I will say though,
had I been female, I prolly would have teared up in a few spots.
Afterwards we went to Casy's for ice cream. It's a classy joint. The
girls working there are cute and pleasant, an got a kick outta my
boys. We sat under the overcast clouds and ate Nerd Heaven, Mint
Chocolate Chip, and Fudge o'Rama. Best part of it all, the had Joy
Cones. I was a little surprised last week when Silas informed me that
he no linger liked sugar cones and preferred the cake cones. It's
apparent. To me now that it's due to the fact that the cake cone holds
more ice cream. Smart boy.
After that we went to the Diamond Park. Not much there, but we did
look around at all the monuments. I made them read all the epithets.
They were most impressed when I would do the math in my head and tell
them how long the monument had been there. These guys think that 10
years is a long time, so numbers like 80 and 110 are like the sand on
a beach to them. Most impressive was the monument to fallen solders of
foreign wars. I think we stood there for 10 minutes (which is like, 10
years to my boys) talking about the wars and the people who died in
them. I really hope this memory sticks with them. I watched a whole
bus load of pre teen brats giggle their way through the holocaust
museum in D.C. It was rather infuriating.
Our next stop was Shadybrook Park. There was a little honkytonk
birthday party going on. Some of it's attendants clearly thought they
were from the ghetto, but to the trained eye it was obvious that they
probably lived in a trailer off a dirt road somewhere. The boys still
had fun playing on the damp playground, and a little tag and redlight/
greenlight in the broken glass covered basketball court.
Finally, my last stop before heading home was at the house of Mrs.
Wood. We sat around and talked for a couple hours while the boys
munched on chips and watched Harry Potter. Her son, my old highschool
friend John finally showed up and we talked for another hour or so.

It was a nice day.

Bloon Festival in Meadville

Last night was the first night of the 21st annual Thurston Classic in
Meadville PA. We made our way out there with the boys. It was nice to
sit and relax and take in a truely unique sight without having to drop
a wad of cash. The boys were given a preemptive instruction to not beg
for food/candy, and pleasantly enough they stuck with it, for the most
part.
We were probably 125 yards away from where the balloons sat while we
watched them inflate and subsequently glow when the sun dipped below
the tree line. It's an awesome feeling to see something so big that
they dwarf the pilots sitting in the baskets below, but being that
there were 9 of them, it fooled the brain into thinking that they
weren't so large. It reminded me of those fever dreams you get when
you're young and the half dreamlike halucinations that make you seem
like you are infinitely large yet at the same time infinitesimally
small. In my halucinations I was usualy chased by a giant orb too.
Possibly the source of my facination with a certain pair of female
anatomical feature? More than likely. It's all starting to make sense
now...

Anyway, thank God for cheap, easy, and fun family activities.