New Research. Bull. It’s the natural order.

black and white photography, siblings, brothers, childhood, memories

6:30pm NBC Nightly News last night. Brian Williams shares a feature story on how younger siblings suffer adverse long term effects from bullying by their older siblings. COME ON. Don’t believe everything you read. Here’s some real life case studies involving long term research.

But first, a short bio on my brother. He’s two years my junior. Today, he is married. He has a beautiful wife. Two handsome well behaved, high potential teenage boys. He has a great job and is making a real contribution to the community. A good man.

Roll it back to his teen years. Pudgy, but nimble in dodging blame. Lazy, but quick to vanish when it was time for chores. Shirt untucked and laden with food droppings.  Pants hanging off his a** before it became a fashion trend.  And foreign ooze dripping from his nose, year around.

Case 1: Lazy summer afternoon. We were chased outside to play. I grabbed our baseball mitts and ball. He reluctantly agreed to play. We tossed it back and forth a few times. He then sat down in the grass in the shade and called out: “It’s too hot.”  I walked over, glared at him and told him to “get up.”  No movement.  I’m staring him down.  He’s scooching backwards on his hands towards the tree: “I’m tired. This is boring.” That was it.  I marched back down the lawn.  Stopped.  Took a deep breath.  Turned, and in a single motion unleashed a fast ball from 15 feet away nailing him in the forehead. Based on his reaction, you would have thought I hit him with a Scud Missile. Outcome for me: Capital Punishment. Outcome for him: Appropriate long term attitude adjustment. (One doesn’t forget a baseball to the noggin’.) [Read more...]

Running. With Marc and Eddy Verbessem.

Identical Twins, Euthanasia, Belgium


5:30 am.  59F. Birds up and singing in all their glory.  It’s still.  Very still.

I put on my Adidas running shorts.  Rachel’s scolding from months back surfaces: “I can see your tan line.  They’re too short.  Those are Perv Shorts.  Embarrassing. Go change.”  I growl.   Now, each time I put them on, I’m thinking Perv-Man.  Words. Killer.  What a delicate flower.

What do you want to do for Father’s Day Dad?
I’d like to be left alone for the day.
Really?
Yes, if you could arrange for me to be sitting alone next to Thoreau, at Walden Pond, listening in on his thoughts, that would be a perfect Sunday.”
“Who? What?”
Forget it Honey.  Forget it.”
Have to say Dad, you have to stop your incoherent mumbling.” [Read more...]

Moved.

Frederick Gray 97-year old gets diploma

“It took nearly eight decades, but Frederick Gray is finally a high school graduate. The Watertown Daily Times reports that the 97-year-old World War II veteran was presented Monday with a diploma from Watertown High School during a ceremony at his northern New York home. Gray was set to graduate in 1934 but dropped out a year early to get a job to help support his family during the Great Depression. Gray worked in a factory before being drafted into the Army in 1942. He served in the 24th Infantry Division in the Pacific campaign, earning a Bronze Star. After the war, he returned to his job and retired as head of the company’s billing department. Gray says he never expected to get a diploma and is ‘dumbfounded by the thoughtfulness.’”


Source: kstp.com via Susan.  Thank you.

Are you common? Or rare?

heat map birthdays


The Patriarch of this household is less common (aka “special/rare”).  The rest of the brood would be defined as common based on their birthdate.  About right.  See The Daily Viz for background on study and sample set.  The chart has had more than 250,000 views.  If you want to read more about this study, hit this link.  Still wouldn’t change the end result.  :)


Source: ilovecharts

Related Posts: Yup. I’m Greek.

Water

photography

Circa 1998.

Miami.

July.

Sundays.

Eric is four. Relentless. “Come on Dad. It’s time to go swimming.” Pulling on my hand. “Come on Dad. Dad, come on!”

The marble floor in the bathroom is cool and smooth on our bare feet. I watch him struggle tugging on his suit. His little white bottom contrasting against his milk chocolate tan lines. He lets out a whimper in frustration as he can’t pull on his swim shirt.

We step outside.

We had lived in Miami for four years. The sweltering summer heat was still a shock. Swallowing up oxygen. Mixing with the heavy pool chlorine…filling nostrils and lungs.

10am. 91F. And there is still August to go.

[Read more...]

Disney 2013. A Reflection.

Magic Kingdom

Traffic. People. People. People. Lines. Lines. Lines. Fast Pass. Strollers. Wheelchairs. Electric scooters. Cameras. iPhones. Texting.

Sun. Heat. Humidity. Sunscreen. Afternoon Rains. Ponchos. Sticky.

Hot dogs. Corn dogs. Burgers. Chili cheese fries. Soft serve ice cream. Asian Chicken wings. Spicy Chicken Sandwiches. Coke (diet). Frozen Minute Made lemonade. Turkey Legs (NOT!). Indigestion.

Test Track. Splash Mountain. Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. Tower of Terror. Expedition Everest. Dinosaur. Kali River Rapids. Dad sits them all out. Nauseous just watching.

Old favorites. Kilimanjaro Safari. Haunted Mansion. Pirates of Caribbean. Jungle Cruise. Epcot. Parades. Marching Bands. Fireworks.

Exhaustion.

[Read more...]

Blurred Lines

1976.  July.  Mid-morning.  The stillness of the mountain air foreshadowed heat coming later in the day.  We were stepping from rock to rock heading downstream at Pass Creek trying to locate a suitable fishing eddy.  Aunt Olga grins and asks: “That song.  The one you are whistling.  Do you know what it is about?”  I had no idea but said “sure.”  I accelerated my pace creating some distance, recognizing that there was a message in there somewhere, but I wasn’t going to wait to find out.  She let it go.

I never listen(ed) to lyrics.  Never, that is, until I arrived home later in the day and waited for the song to play again.  My transistor radio crackling out the tune.  Aha.  OK.  Got it now.  Red-faced just thinking about it after all these years.

Gonna find my baby, gonna hold her tight
Gonna grab some afternoon delight…
Sky rockets in flight
Afternoon delight
Afternoon delight
Afternoon delight

2013.  Memorial Day weekend.  Poolside.  Solo guitarist singing wide range of covers: Bruce.  Lumineers.  Petty.  Cash.  James Taylor. Dave Matthews.  ’Wedding singer plus’ offering pleasant background music on a glorious day. [Read more...]

Moments. Hold them.

baby-and-dad-sleeping-590x410

Zeke’s paws are scratching. He’s dreaming.  His body twitching.  I steal a glance at the clock.  1:15 am.  I smile. You go from refusing a dog for 20 years, to the animal taking center stage on your bed. Every night.  What a tough guy.

He knows.  Dogs have a second sense.  Even when he’s sleeping, he hears.

Car door shuts.  It’s Rachel.  Rolling in from her evening out.

I lumber down to her room.  Bathroom door is closed.  Water is running.  I lie down on her bed.  Stare at the ceiling.  And wait.

Mind whirs back to a moment during the week.  I’m driving into Manhattan.  Rush hour.  Traffic stalled.  GPS flashes a 3-mile backup to the Triboro bridge.  Beach Avenue and Bruckner.  Young girl is holding her Dad’s hand.  They are crossing the walkway over I-278.  Her passion pink backpack sharply contrasting with the streaks of graffiti.  The pair offering up a burst of illumination against the grey of the housing projects and the trash lining the freeway.  Their hands and arms sway in unison.  Dad smiling.    She’s skipping to keep up.

That day, Mind was crocheting stitches of a majestic tapestry. One of family.  Of warm spring days.  Of light breezes.  All storm clouds pushed way south.  And the Moment hovered.  All week.

Why this moment?  This was not an impressionist by Monet.  Not a intricate passage by Joyce or a dreamy segue by Murakami. No deep existential words here by Kierkegaard.  Not  a big win at Work.  A Father. A daughter.  A pink backpack.  Walking over a dilapidated bridge in the Projects.

[Read more...]

Riding Metro North. A break in rush hour.

MetroNorth Train
It’s a brisk morning. 45F.

I board the 5:59 am Metro North train to Grand Central.

I settle in with the morning news. Rifling through the papers. Eyes scanning headlines. Going no deeper. Distracted. Then annoyed at my lack of focus. I turn to my work papers to prep for my late morning meeting. Mind wanders again.  I toss them in my bag in frustration.  I lean my head against the window. Close my eyes. And listen.

There’s no conversation. No disturbance of the clickety clack except for the periodic rough jostling of the rail cars on uneven rails. This being no high-speed train.

Conductor breaks the rhythm.

Tickets. Tickets please.”

I pull the ticket out of my shirt pocket.

Conductor stops five rows up.

Sir, these tickets are for non-peak rides.”

Soft voice responds but words are undecipherable.

No, sir. You will need to purchase Peak ride tickets.”

Other riders now rubbernecking to check out the break in morning routine. [Read more...]

Family: A Postcard from 1952

Loved this…back in a “simpler” time.

“Postcard From 1952″ – Explosions in The Sky from peter simonite on Vimeo.

I couldn’t tell you…

grandpa, photograph

My Grandfather. Deda. Walter Cecil Kanigan.

He was born on March 22nd. Yesterday.  In 1909. 103 years ago.

I couldn’t tell you with certainty where he was born. Believe it was in the Ukraine. In a hospital? Home delivery?

I couldn’t tell you what he did as a child. Who were his friends? Did he have toys? A bike? A cat?

I couldn’t tell you of his journey to Canada. Where did he land? Did he ride the rails to get cross country? Was it Spring time?

I couldn’t tell you if he attended high school. Did he learn “his figures?”  Did he know how to write?

I couldn’t tell you how he met Grandma. Baba. Did he ask her Father for permission to marry? Was she his first choice?

I couldn’t tell you his dreams. He mentioned that he wished he could fly. Just once. I couldn’t tell you if he ever flew in a commercial airliner.

I can’t tell you much about Deda.

But, I have moments.

He mixed different cereals for breakfast.

He slurped vegetable soup off his spoon.

[Read more...]

You’ve Still Got A Friend

Thursday.  He was running late for lunch.  My college roommate.  Just like him to be late.  My mind whirring back to college…

Short (very) and stocky build.  Permanently attired in University of Minnesota Gopher sweatpants and an oversized sweat shirt with hoody. Everything hung large.  Everything rumpled.  “Unkempt, having an untidy or disheveled appearance.”  Webster’s should have added his name.  He was the magnetic center – the beating heart – of every college party.  Quarter-bounce champ into Pabst Blue Ribbon at the Alibi.  Ringleader for late night games of Hearts. Out late. (Very)  Up late. (Very)  Blessed with a quick wit and quicker on the ice.  Selected easiest path to graduation: Art. Sculpture. Sociology. Physical Education. And even this was a struggle. Yet, he was never late for hockey practice.  Vote never taken, but most likely to end up next to the curb.

He walked in. Hair salt and peppered grey. Blazer. Blue open collar shirt. Tropical skin tone. (He’s got it together.)

[Read more...]

Morning After Long Weekend

Grab your watch.  How long before you do too?

Yawns from Everynone on Vimeo.

And the winner is…

The runaway winner among all the Superbowl commercials.  Dodge Ram Truck.  And Paul Harvey.  GOOD DAY!

Hanging it up after 45 years…

family, photograph

Here’s my Aunt Olga.

She grew up as the only girl among four brothers. Tall. A striking blond. Remarkable blue eyes. A warm and infectious smile.

She left our rural home town more than 45 years ago to strike it out on her own. The Rebel. A young, single woman. Moving to the big city. Leaving behind a Mother who worried about her welfare. A Mother who took every opportunity to remind her daughter about her angst.

As a professional stylist, she built a deep and loyal roster of clients. Several times over. Her practice supported her love of travel. We’d know because she’d bring back gifts. A “Babuska doll” from Moscow. Maracas from Mexico. A flaming red scarf from Spain. A miniature Statue of Liberty or Eiffel Tower.

She’d come back home to a three generation pile-up of freeloading customers. We’d move a kitchen chair into the garage and she would mow down the Kanigan mullets one by one. Never a complaint. The line stretching around the corner.  Yep, Olga came home for a few days of R&R.

My Auntie. Independent. Industrious. A positive spirit. A generous, big-hearted soul. And, a lady who has suffered through some of life’s deepest disappointments. Yet, those sparkling blue eyes and hearty smile keep it all rooted deep down, with no evidence of flotsam bubbling to the surface.  She’s since found happiness. And a good Man. And no one deserves it more.

Here was her email to clients and friends on her last day of work yesterday: [Read more...]

Merry Christmas

Good morning and Merry Christmas!  As I was getting up this morning, I crossed paths with the kids who were just going to bed.  Instead of the kids hovering around the tree at 5am waiting for Mom and Dad to get up, there was Zeke…locked in on his Christmas stocking.  (Of course, Zeke has to have his own stocking.  Of course it’s monogrammed with his name.) Our bird hunting dog won’t hunt birds, he won’t retrieve tennis balls, he’s scared of cats and the dark, but that nose knows precisely where his treats are.  He wouldn’t break his stare for the first photo.  And after telling him that he had to wait for Rachel and Eric to get up before he could get at his stocking, his shoulders slumped, he dropped to the floor and cried “no fair.”

So, Zeke and I played loops of Sean Quiqley’s Little Drummer Boy at a HIGH decibel level.  Hoping that the kids would eventually roll out of bed and we can get this party rollin’.

[Read more...]

Cat’s left the cradle

Eric-before-after-2012

He returned home for Thanksgiving.  My strapping 6′ 3” son walked into the waiting area.   He had grown.  Looking down on his Dad from a higher elevation.  Adorned with knee length gym shorts. (47F outside.)  Sweat shirt with hoody.  And his hair.  Wow.  Only a Mother can love this slovenly look.  And she does.  I let it ride.  For about 24 hours.  Do you think just maybe you could trim it up?  Dad puts up the fences and guardrails.  Empathetic Mom breaks ranks.  Intuitive Son notices his parents on opposing sides.  Mamma’s boy digs in and expects full cover.  With leverage waning, I grab the last lifeboat …when one feeds at the trough, respect the farmer.   Outcome: No haircut.   And, I now have a Son using hair elastics and headbands aka hair accessories.

He returned home for Christmas.  There he was waiting for us at the airport terminal. Same knee length ratty gym shorts.  (39F outside).  Same sorry sweat shirt with hoody.  And his hair. All intact.  Clothes, hair, shoes…looking matted, dingy and need of a hot shower and wire brush.  Mom first.  Then, Dad gave his Son a hug. Zeke, electrified, and in the midst of a full head-to-toe body wiggle, finally settled after Eric kneeled down to hug him. Of course, Zeke needed to be part of the greeting party. [Read more...]

A Sea of Red. Heartwarming and Human.

2400 Santas participated in the Glasglow Santa Dash run for charity on December 9th.

charity, fundraiser, community, help others, give

Scotland, charity, fundraising, Christmas, helping others, giving

[Read more...]

Happy Thanksgiving from…

Peanuts, Snoopy, Balloon, Urban Magazine


Snoopy at Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in New York City…three million are expected to watch the parade live with another 50 million on television.  Snoopy, of course, is the star attraction. Start time: 9am EST.


Source: URBAN AGENDA New York City, Holiday 2012.  Thank you my Susan for sharing.

Welcome Home. I Missed You.

Hi Daddy…

Rachel:   Hi Daddy!

Dad:          Hi Honey.  What’s up?

Rachel:   Daddy, I scored an 88 on a brutal Managerial Accounting Test!

Dad:          Wow, that’s amazing Rachel.  Well done!  I’m proud of you.

Rachel:   OK Daddy.  Just wanted to let you know.  Gotta run.

Self:           “Daddy.”

45 second phone conversation with daughter on car ride home from work.  Priceless.


Image Credit: Thank you abirdeyeview

Related Posts:

Today, be…

Source: The Magnificent Life of Plants

No Pain. No Gain?

portrait, art, color, progressive

“…maybe that’s the lesson for me today. to hold on to these simple moments. to appreciate them a little more. there’s not many of them left. i don’t ever want that for you, finding things that make you happy shouldn’t be so hard. i know you’ll face pain, suffering, hard choices, but you can’t let the weight of it choke the joy out of your life. no matter what you have to find the things that love you; run to them. there’s an old saying: that which does not kill you makes you stronger. i don’t believe that. i think the things that try to kill you make you angry and sad. strength comes from the good things: your family, your friends, the satisfaction of hard work. those are the things that keep you whole, those are the things to hold on to when you’re broken.”
~ Jax Teller, Sons of Anarchy


Image Source: Sergioalbiac.  Quote Source: gene-how. Post inspired by Another Day in Paradise

Just a few more seconds…that’s all I need.

He arrived late Thursday night.

He looked taller. He looked like he had filled out. It had been less than 60 days. An illusion.

We couldn’t make it to Family Weekend in September. I could sense disappointment. His roommates’ parents showed. They graciously invited him to dinner.

It was a short 4-day week at school this weekend. A trip home before Thanksgiving wasn’t in the budget. Many of his new mates on the floor had planned to head home as they lived within a few hours drive. He didn’t want to make the call. He didn’t have to say it. And he didn’t. He wanted (needed) to come home, even if it was a brief weekend stay. And he could catch up with his sister who was home on break.

Dad and Son engaged in their customary near-monosyllabic dialogue. [Read more...]

She’s home.


She arrived Thursday night via Amtrak.  Traveling alone.  Now in her third year at college.  Time flowing like water.

Tall black boots.  Long hair hanging free down her back.  Carrying a black duffle.  Walking with a quiet confidence.  She’s pivoted following the summer internship in Manhattan.  A bridge she’s crossed.  A new found self awareness…I can play.  I can hold my own.  Her grades have popped up, even raising her own eyebrows.

Zeke’s nose recognizes someone familiar in the dark.  Then it hits him.  Rachel!  His entire body writhing with wiggles…he smothers her with kisses. [Read more...]

Unstoppable

Lorne - unstoppable - bone marrow transplant

This is my youngest brother Lorne.  This photo was taken one year ago yesterday after his successful bone marrow transplant.  He celebrates another year of a remarkable life.  This man, my Brother, carries himself with such grace, with such gentleness, with such kindness and with such optimism – - I shake my head in wonder.  It makes me believe that he was “selected” because of his indomitable spirit and strength.

[Read more...]

Set your alarm (and go)

Jog, exercise, live, quote, quotation, walk, skip, shower, breakfast, water, friends, philosophy, psychology, peace, lifestyle, exercise, fruit, eat



Sounds like a plan for today. (Ex bra, body butter & lotion, tinted cheeks, painting nails, etc.)


Source: fornowjustcarryon via tyleroakley

Today is September 11th…

In  memory of September 11th, grab your kleenex…

He’s Gone.

The countdown started on Monday.  My first day back from vacation.  Rachel is off to school.  And three days from an empty nest with Eric packing up for his freshman year.  (The short week felt like repeated bouts of getting up quickly from reading on the bed.  Disorientation.  Stabilization.  Disorientation.  Stabilization.  Grab an arm rail pal.  Get a grip.  You can’t slow down the clock.)

The Chariot was packed and ready to depart for the 11-hour journey. (No, the King doesn’t pack. The scope of his competency is narrow and deep…and some would argue not that deep.  Best for him to stay well out of the way of logistics.)

It was impossible to see out of the side windows.  Every square inch of trunk and 1/2 of the back seat was stuffed to the roof top.  Changing lanes was a roll of the dice.  Normal humans would invest in a car-top carrier, rent a van, or borrow something larger…not this Cat.  The $500 expense on top of the college tuition was the tipping point.  So, we jammed it all in and off we went.

The King was sitting in a cubby hole behind the driver’s seat.  (Oh, what delicious irony.  My first memory of Eric was driving him home from the hospital a few days after his birth.  I was driving at far less than the speed limit and slipping glances back to see that he was okay.) 

[Read more...]

The Last Supper.

image I was running the rough math in my head. They have been subjected to over 100,000 “course corrections” during their lifetimes.

Wash your hands. Tie your laces. Look people in the eye. Use a firm handshake. Wipe your face. Keep your voice down. Sit up. Comb your hair. Brush your teeth. Pick up your things. Put on clean clothes. Don’t yell. Get along with your Brother. Get along with your Sister. Say please. Say thank you. Say you are sorry. ENOUGH TV.  Read. Get to sleep. Go to the bathroom before we leave the house. Enough candy. Do your homework.  Plus 1000 others.  And, certainly not all of them delivered with finesse or a light touch. When you are molding a sculpture, some rough chops are necessary. And per the King’s rules, as long as the game is played within the fences and by the house rules, all is good.

[Read more...]

Mid-Summer Afternoons…

There was no air conditioning, central, window or otherwise.  There were no large, five-speed oscillating fans.  The one 12-inch fan in the house, hummed like a diesel and was in the kitchen where it kept Mom cool while she was preparing our meal.  Dinner included a cool cucumber soup, vareneki and peach pie – - cucumbers individually pulled off the vines in the garden and plump, ripe peaches picked from our fruit trees. The oven, running all afternoon, added to the oppressive heat in the house.

We had one TV, with one channel, the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation.  Hockey Night in Canada (Saturday Nights) was one of the few programs worthy of watching.  And, in any event, watching TV during the day was taboo.  We had one radio station, and it was country.  (So no radio.)  There was no internet.  No Playstation. No iPhones, iTunes, iPods, iPads, iAnthing.  No desktops or laptops.  No Barnes & Noble, Borders, Waldenbooks or Amazon.  No Kindles, Nooks or Readers.  The Public Library was miles away and I had never set my foot in it.  We had a camera but that was off limits and of little interest. [Read more...]

Running…Away.

5:35am: I’m up and out the door. The rest of the gang is sound asleep   (Day 3 of vacation. Day 1 of running after a week sabbatical.  I needed to rest the jet. Have to say the condition of my knee spooked me.  30 years ago, I could fall from pine trees, slip head long on slimy river rocks fishing with cousins, get chopped on ankle by a nasty Trail Smoke Eater – - and spring back like a slinky.  No more.  Dark thoughts encroach – - will I heal or will this knee-thing be biting me the rest of the ride?)

5:40am: I find the sign for the Mountain Trail.  (There are 3 trails.  Walking. Intermediate. Mountain.  I’m a Man, right?  Mountain it is.  ‘Throw caution to the wind.’  Knee be damned.) [Read more...]

Running. With a bad jet.

Homer Simpson6:15am.  77°F and 89% relative humidity.  I walk out the door and air is thick and soupy. (Hmmmm.  Maybe this sauna will accelerate the decomposition of the Oreo cookie intake yesterday. Count: 16. Yep.  Strapped on the feedbag and ravenously wolfed ‘em down. But lets be balanced here. This was spread over lunch and dinner – not so bad when looking at it this way – a modest amount actually.  I don’t think this even adds up to a full row.)

0.5 miles: I feel a pinch in my right knee.  The pinch advances to bite.  I grimace. (D*mn weekend warrior. I slow the pace but don’t stop.  “Run through it.” I recall the 2007 NY Times article – ‘We want you to keep moving…injured tissue heals quicker if it’s under stress…moderate exercise aids the healing.’ 5 year old article and its stuck with me.)

1 mile: It’s not going away. Limp-running now.  Slow pace further. (So, where’s the d*mn moderate exercise will heal part.  Healing can show up anytime now. I’m almost walking know.  Sweat is raining down…and tastes a bit creamy. (Oreos?)  You would think this humidity would be lubing my knee. Odd, my right shoulder is stiff now.  Oh, yea.  Re-started my push-up routine yesterday.  Man, my entire carriage is coming apart!  Another 1/2 mile and we’ll need to call 911.  As long as I don’t keel over into all of this Goose dung and avoid rolling into the cove…I should be ok.)

[Read more...]

Guest Post: Squirm. Splash. Sink.

After reading Friday’s post (The King loses (again)…), Eric (18, son) was inspired to share a family vacation story.  The fact that he read my post was a head-scratcher…so best to nurture this sudden interest in both reading and writing.  I should disclose upfront, that I fail to see any humor in this story – and I say “story” as I don’t recall this version of the events.  Here it is…unedited and unplugged.  (And yes, the photo is an actual photo of me during the scuba lesson.)

scubaSQUIRM. SPLASH. SINK.

By Eric Kanigan

Anyone who knows my Dad personally can attest to the enjoyment he gets out of poking fun at others, to phrase it nicely (in reality it’s usually a firm jab rather than a poke). For those that do not know him, just imagine a person who loves to relive the details of your painfully embarrassing moments months, sometimes years after they occur. Throw in a mustache to your mental image and presto! You have David Kanigan!

It only seems fitting to return the favor, so it’s time for a trip down memory lane.

[Read more...]

The King loses (again)…

The King’s choice of a summer vacation destination is scuttled. (sigh)

The King’s super-vote is thrown out.  Three years running. (sigh)

The King’s dreams of walking the Pont Neuf will need to wait another year.  (sigh)

Long live the King.  (Long enough to get to Paris)

Pont Neuf, River Seine, Paris, France

In memory of what could have been, here’s John Altman with “Under the Bridges of Paris” from the Soundtrack Let’s Dance:

↓ click for audio (Under the Bridges of Paris)


 


Image: carnetimaginaire via Kiss at Pont Neuf by Quadriman on Flickr.

Related Posts:

A new day, another miracle. All in the eyes of a boy.

We’ve been hanging (HANGING) since lunch time Friday when Theresa rushed out of the office to the hospital.  (HE’S EARLY!)

Well, the stork has arrived.  Alexander Salvatore was born at 11:18 pm last night.  He came a bit early (6 weeks)… and a bit light (5 lbs, 7 oz) – - and he gave his Mom a tough time of it…however, everyone is just fine.  Congratulations Theresa and Dominic!  Strap in for the best ride of your life…

A new day has come
Where it was dark now there’s light
Where there was pain now there’s joy
Where there was weakness, I found my strength
All in the eyes of a boy



Running…with red eyes.

3:30am.  And up.  (Nothing wide-eyed and bushy tailed here.  You have a problem pal.)

Posted my work-inspiration video.  (Was inspired.  For about 3 minutes.  A** firmly planted in chair.  Motivation rating: 1.5 on scale of 10.  Darkness rolls in.  I’m sorry.  That’s disingenuous.  My a** is hanging so low, you can’t see where my a** starts and the floor begins.)

Slash through 50 emails. (Tension climbing with the disposition of each mail.  Look down at meter count.  126 left.  Standing in ocean.  Neck deep.  Taking in water with each wave.  Gagging on the salt water.)

She left the office yesterday after lunch.  A colleague.  Her water broke.  Six weeks early.  No word.  (Damn it, CALL!)

I shut down the email train.  (Rationalizing again.  Maybe I’ll run later.  Nothing in the tank this morning.)

Little red light blinking on Blackberry. (Devil’s tool that little red light.  Blinking.  Blinking incessantly.  It’s not even a pretty red color. Maybe it’s T.  No.  No, it’s not.)

It’s an email from a former colleague.  He’s now in London with his family.  (I haven’t spoken to Steve in a very long time.  What an amazing person and talent he is.  Had no idea he was even following my blog.  Dark clouds fall away.  Mood shifts.  Amazing what a few kind words will do to my psyche.)

“Dave, I hope this note finds you well…Now, I read an article in one of our leading newspapers and felt inspired, when I feel inspired I think of your blog. It’s not the most obvious article that may be worthy of landing on your blog but I thought I would share it just in case you thought your friends would relate to it. As a Dad, it struck a chord with me. Hope you are doing well, and the family is good…..take care……Steve.”

I start panning down the article.  I finish the article.  I’m rubbing tears from my eyes.  I put on my running gear and head out the door.

“It’s not the most obvious article that may be worthy of landing of your blog.”  (Right!)

The story consumed me the entire run. (“You will wish for terrible things; you will pray for your newborn baby to die — not just once, but a thousand times. Go with it, don’t judge yourself, and the storm will pass.”).

If you read nothing else today, take a moment to read the story below.

Running Time this morning? 39 seconds ahead of last Sunday’s pace.  A new personal best.  Steve, I owe to it you for bringing the light back.  Thank you.

Enjoy your Saturday.  That is, after reading the story below.


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Time out with Claire…


Claire Shotter @ Claire Shotter’s Blog describes herself as “a happy workaholic enjoying the best job in the world: Artist.”  And it certainly shows.  Be sure to check out Claire’s blog to see more whimsy, happy, family…


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Rescue me…

Basic CMYKAfter posting my work-out video this morning (For Those Who Suffer, We Ride…), I stepped on the scale to find that I had set a new personal worst…a 12-month high.  On with the running shoes, and out the door…no matter that the air was thick with humidity and threatening rain…I was determined to shake this weight off in one long run.

(Clank) (What is going on with you?) Flashback.

After Rachel left home to go to college, I camped out in the attic.  Meaning, on the couch…curtains drawn…big screen flashing…Friday night after work through the weekend.  This went on for several weeks.

I watched five consecutive seasons of the TV Series “Rescue Me.”  5 seasons = ~ 50 episodes.  50 shows = ~38 hours of TV.   Back to back to back to back to back to BACK. (Obsessive Personality Disorder.  Topic for upcoming post.)

There was no other TV during this Rescue Me marathon.  I took short breaks for meals, showers and potty breaks.  No exercise. No walks outdoors. No Zeke dog walking.  Minimal human interaction.  Just sayin’ – I was hunkered down.  (Who says it’s Moms that fall apart after the kids leave the nest).

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So, let me tell you about my day Dad…

daddy and daughterWeek 3: Rachel’s summer job in Manhattan where she’s interning in a Human Resources Department.  She’s been coming home and thematically asking this line of questions:

How’d your day go Dad?”  (For 19 years, I’d come dragging through the front door at the end of a long day. She’d be lying on the couch watching continuous loops of reality TV.  Not a peep from her on how my day went.  Now she’s asking.  Hmmmm. Until you walked a mile in a man’s shoes…) 

Let me tell you about my day Dad.”  (She proceeds to jabber on and on and on about her day…giddy almost…youthful exuberance.  Anxious. Yet excited.  Learning.  Being stretched into new territory.  Unsure footing.  No worries Honey.  It will come.  It will surely come…) 

Dad, did you read about the Greek vote in the Wall Street Journal?”  (Read what, where? Rachel reading a newspaper?  The WSJ?  I’m getting woozy.)

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If there is a God, he was here today…

Eric & Rachel - Eric's 2012 GraduationScene: Eric’s graduation yesterday.  Sitting among hundreds of parents, friends, and family members. Beautiful…BEAUTIFUL…sunny afternoon.  Whisps of gentle cooling breeze rustled the surrounding trees and the tassels.  I close my eyes and the Eagles’ song Peaceful Easy Feeling comes to mind.  If there is a God, he was here this afternoon.

The mood was set early.  A student on his way to Julliard sang “You Raise Me Up” honoring parents and the faculty.  His booming baritone voice filled our hearts and souls.

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be; Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up… To more than I can be.”

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Reflections (Morn of Eric’s Graduation Day)

Eric and his sister RachelThat’s Eric and his older sister on the right – Eric was 1 and Rachel was 3 years old at the time.  Picture warms my heart.  (Surreal. I stare at the picture.  Seems like yesterday. Where did the time go?)

More than 15 years after this picture is taken, I’m watching the two of them giggling watching a YouTube video.  (There is something about two siblings being so close. I’m MOVED to see it and feel it – Blood loving blood.)

Rachel later eggs me on to post some lighter moments of Eric’s early childhood.  Here we go:

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19 years old, but still Daddy’s Girl…

father-daugher 2It started about a week ago.  Rachel asked me to take her into the city.  She was nervous.  She doesn’t know her way around.  She needed to get her paperwork completed and her picture taken for her summer job.  She asked me again, 2 days later.  And then again. (Why does she keep asking me, when I’ve told her that I would do it? She doesn’t think Dad will show.  That’s it.  All those other times.  One excuse or another usually all tied to work. Couldn’t make it.  Something has come up.  I’m busy.  Mom will take you.)

Thursday night.  She asked again.  I glare at her.  She backs up.

Friday morning.  You can see she didn’t get much sleep.  She’s nervous.  She’s dressed.  OMG.  My girl is wearing a suit.  Nicely dressed.  Professional. My eyes well up.  I have to turn away.

We’re waiting for the train.  It’s early.

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Like Father, Like Son? Not!

Darien High School held its awards ceremony last night.  The Art Department Photography Award was presented to two senior students who excelled in Photography – - and, guess who won!  So, his Proud Daddy has to show and tell.  Not sure where he picked up the skill, because his Dad wouldn’t know which end of the camera to point and shoot.  Here are five of my favorite shots:

add on cd

for disc (6)

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Snoopy on Mother’s Day


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Source: madamescherzo via retrogasm

Guest Post: Eric to Mom

Mom,
 
Happy Mother’s Day! Thank you for:
 
  • Putting others before yourself
  • Killing bugs in my room for me
  • Always being so optimistic and finding something positive to say
  • Making me yummy breakfast
  • Teaching me that winning isn’t everything
  • Being so forgiving
  • Defending me until the end (mostly from Dad)
  • Caring and teaching me the importance of caring for others
    You personify that "good things come in small packages!"
I found this video and I thought you would really enjoy it. (And btw, this blog post is in lieu of a card and flowers – I thought it would be more personal than Hallmark and FTD). Smile
 
Love you,
 
Eric


 

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  1. Wednesday for Women: Who are you calling a Mama’s Boy?
  2. Tic, Tic, Tic…6 months to Empty Nest
  3. He’d grown up just like me. My boy was just like me…
  4. The Believer of Convenience.
  5. Week in Review: Down but not out…
  6. Ratio of Criticisms to Compliments is woefully imbalanced…

Guest Post: Rachel to Mom


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  1. Break away for 1 hour, for one of life’s delights…
  2. Dad to Daughter: You Can Do Anything You Put Your Mind To! (Not!)
  3. Friends, memories and the enormity of Mother Nature…

Just another Friday?

It’s May 11, 2012

My Brother’s birthday is today.  My “baby” brother.

Just another day?

Just another Friday?

Just another birthday?

No.  Not exactly.

Six months ago, today being a reality was a coin toss.

And here we are.

Man with a big heart battling.

A good man celebrating his birthday with his beautiful wife and two strapping young boys.

Life is short.  Life is good.

Happy Birthday Bro.  This song is for you…

 

 

 


Image Credit

Does your family come out on top?

From Clay Christensen’s Life Lessons, Bloomberg Businessweek. By Bradford Wieners

"…How Will You Measure Your Life? is sharpest on staying motivated in your career and, above all, on parenting…To understand a company’s strategy, look at what they actually do rather than what they say they do. The same logic applies to one’s life. For example, ambitious people will reliably tell you that family, or being a mother or father, is the most important thing in their lives. Yet when pressed to choose between racing home to deal with a chaotic pre-bedtime scene and staying another hour at the office to solve a problem, they will usually keep working. It’s these small everyday decisions that reveal if you’re following a path to being the best possible spouse and parent. If your family matters to you, when you think about all the choices you’ve made with your time in a week, does your family come out on top?"

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He’d grown up just like me. My boy was just like me…

Eric (son) and I concluded our college visits last week.  The May 1 final decision date was banging on the back door.  He has 2 excellent choices.  One close to home.  One a plane ride away.  Son like Father is not long on words…and Son has been close to the vest on the final call.  I roll out of bed in the wee hours of the morning today.  Look at the clock…3:50am.  Flip open my smart phone.  Email from Eric.  A rare occurrence.  I sit down.  I rub the sleep out of my eyes.  I take a deep breath.  And I read.

“So after giving it some thought I have my mind set on W.  Here’s my reasoning:

  1. W is more expensive but W’s school rank is higher than B.
  2. W is more appealing in terms of the small class sizes.
  3. I feel that it would be easier to stand out when applying to med/grad school in a smaller school with a reputation for exceptional academics.
  4. I found the living and food situation at W to be a lot better.  Air conditioned dorms. And I’m GUARANTEED to be on campus.  Which is a short walk to class.
  5. The major drawback to W is the distance from home but I feel the educational experience is superior.  I will just deal with the travel and deal with being further away from home.
  6. I felt a greater sense of community at W, and I warmed very much to the southern hospitality.  So this is my rationale.  I’ve been getting pretty excited at the prospect of going to W the past few days, so I think my mind is made up.

So, it’s done.  Mr. Independent has pulled the trigger without so much as a 10-minute discussion with Mom & Dad.

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