Donuts with Dad

This is going to be a short and sweet post. I took some time off this morning to attend Goobs' preschool's event "Donuts with Dad." The dads were all invited to come in and share mini donuts, chocolate milk, and sliced bananas. There were about 20 dads in the classroom, sitting in little chairs, enjoying donuts with their children. There were dads in suits, jeans, and warmups... There were short dads, tall dads, big dads, and small dads...and I was the old dad. There were dads in bean bags in the corner reading stories and dads doing puzzles...Dads were everywhere and it was great. I'm glad I took the time today to spend it with my son and all the other kids and dads.

Daddy's Back...with comments

Luckily, I've got this coworker, who knows a lot about a lot... He looked at my blog, fiddled with something, and kapowie...I've got comments again. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves...I'm feeling verklempt... Then comment to me...about my last few posts.

Help me...

For some reason I lost my comments with the last two posts. I'm new to this game...can anyone help me? If I don't have comments on this post...if you've got an idea with blogspot, go to my last post with comments to help me. God, I'm an internet klutz!

Daddy's pride...

What I like about me!

I'd like to thank Angie from "Barbed and Wired" for a recent post regarding body image. I realize she is coming at it from the female perspective, but men have got some of the same stuff going on in their heads too. And...by gosh, it aint pretty. Well...at least I've got some of the same kinds of ideas rolling around in my head...and I'm a guy.

I think the biggest problem that I face is that I don't see the big picture, which is my own humanness/humanity. I don't see the forest...hell, I don't even see the trees...I focus on an oblong knot on the trunk of a nondescript pine tree deep in the thick of the forest. What does that mean...I hyperfocus on the faults that I see so much, that nothing else of me exists. It's like...what's wrong with me defines me. So, who am I some days? According to my fault focusing mind, I'm the guy with the gut, overly pointed nose, graying hair, drying and sometimes flakey scalp...with ADD, who drives his spouse and coworkers crazy with his behavior, tangental thinking and limited organizational ability. It's not a pretty picture, and that's what my mind tells me is me...nothing more.

I guess the key is that I can't believe my own bullshit. There is a God up there (I really do believe that) and he created me...the last time I checked, the big guy upstairs didn't make a giant shit sandwich with the name of Steve.

What Angie asked folks to think about was to find things about themselves that they liked...It could be physical or otherwise. So... I had to sit down and think about what I like in me. It's so much easier to just list the imperfections...they just roll off of the tongue. I have to think about this. Ahha...I think I've got a few things I really like about myself.

1. I like my calves. The fat that settled around my midsection, didn't travel south to my calves. They are strong, lean, and defined. They were made through running, biking, and ruck marching in the military. I recall about 10 years ago, when I was single, some of my female coworkers commented on them when I was wearing shorts one day. It made me feel good. I'm holding on to that memory...

2. Everyone in my immediate family has big, beautiful brown eyes but me. I have pale, sparkling blue eyes. They've been said to dance when I laugh. The kids got J's gorgeous brown filipina eyes. They've got small and fine features, so theose brown eyes dominate their faces. I'm the odd man out...with the small blue eyes...but I'll keep them.

3. My voice...somehow I was born with the ability to sing. My dad was the original tipsy Irish tenor. I just carry that on without the tipsy part. I sang in church as a younger person and was always told to keep up with my singing, however life has conspired and made me a busy man with only time to sing in church with the congregation and in the shower. J has told me that she wants the kids to have my voice. That makes me feel very, very good.

4. J tells me that she thinks my thin lips are sexy...and that when I'm serious I have this lisp thing going on. I don't get it or try to speak that way...it just comes out. I've heard myself do it and I think it sounds kind of stupid, but if my wife likes it...I guess I'll just keep up with the serious, unconscious, very small lisp.

5. Finally, I think my kids are absolutely beautiful. They partially came from me...so something good has to be going on there!!!

Well, there you have it. Things that i like about me. I think there are more, but I have to work and I don't want to fry my brain in the effort.

J's B-Day and Other Things of Note

Just a little addition to my last post-Last night I got home from teaching my class at about 9:00. I changed into comfy sweats and plopped down on the sofa next to J. I realized I was still hungry, so I went to the pantry and grabbed the first thing I saw. That just happened to be a box of Fruit Loops. So, there I was munching on dry Fruit Loops when my wonderful wife chimes in with, "I read your blog where you were complaining about working out and eating crap. Why are you eating crap?" There I was...sitting on the couch...flat cold busted with a mouthful of Fruit Loops. Then she tops it off with this..."Those aren't for you anyway. They're for the kids!" I sulked back to the pantry and put the cereal back. So kids...what's the moral of the story? Is it not to eat crap? Is it not to get caught eating crap...or is it not to blog about eating crap? I'm not sure, but I guess I won't be eating Fruit Loops in front of the TV with my wife when I get home from work anytime in the near future.

Today is J's birthday. Since she reads this blog, I can't reveal any plans for the evening. I really want to go out of my way tonight to treat her right. She's an awesome woman, mother, and partner. She gets cranky with me now and then, but that's to be expected...because I am Samok (Bisaya for Pain in the Ass). For all who are curious...It's pronounced like this...Sahm-Oak. She puts up with my samok ass, and for that I'm grateful. Needless to say, I've talked to the Dean and I'm leaving early today to get things in motion. I'm fired up for the evening...

This is always a weird time of the year for me. I did mention in the blog just recently about my father's death and mom and stepdad's wedding. Yes, it's J's birthday today, but it's also the day my dad passed away in 2000. My dad's birthday was also the 26th. The 29th is also my mom and stepdad's anniversary (the same week as dad's death-note we were all at peace with that...including dad). Our anniversary also falls on January 20th. It's always kind of a weird time for me. It's like this giant pot of joy and grief all stirred together. When I explain the end of January to coworkers or friends, they just kind of look at me and say...Whoa...that's a little weird. Yeah, it's not a normal turn of events, but it's my family. We've never been run of the mill, so why should this be any different? So, I'll shed a few tears for my dad, hug my wife and give her gifts and the love she deserves, and have a really good time this weekend.

And Bonus of Bonuses...It's going to warm up here in frozen tundra land!!! It's supposed to actually be above freezing for a day or two. I might have to run outside in a pair of shorts for a minute or two...just to remember what it's like to wear such items of clothing. The older I get, the more I think WINTER SUCKS!!! Please take me to a south sea beach...NOW!!! Why did my ancestors come to such a sorry ass, frozen piece of land such as Minnesota. Did they think...Oh, let's go to a place as miserable as the old country? Were they stoic northern europeans, who believed that suffering was the way to redemption? I seriously think that my existence here is due to Lutheran guilt and the belief that pain brings one closer to God. Now, you're probably wondering why, in the name of everything good and warm, did I bring my wife (from a tropical island) back to the land of my ancestors after being gone so long? Hey...it's all about family. I guess I love them and I missed them. So...here we are...a wonderful family of four...shivering. The twin cities are a very good place to raise kids. It's clean and I think my kids will do well here. It is actually a good place to live...But, why...why...why...does it have to be so freaking cold here? Okay...I'm done whining. Let me dream about being on the beach...and oh...pass me the tanning butter...will ya?

I'm back at the office today...Back in the saddle...ridin' on the trail...herdin' the students. Gotta love it.

I took a little break from the whole fitness thing and now I've been getting up early in the morning again to stay healthy. I was listening to the radio this morning and another report came out that exercise does increase heath (duh) and delay mortality significantly (double duh) in middle aged men. I'm a little older than the run of the mill daddy with a four year old and a two year old, so I'm constantly thinking about that. I'm exercising, but unfortunately my affinity for crap that's bad for you may negate some of the good work that I am partaking in.

It's dark and cold when I climb into the car and make the five mile drive to the gym. I truly do enjoy the atmosphere of people taking positive measures regarding their health, so I can't say it's a cruddy experience when I get there. I'm laying of the swimming in the winter, just because I'm a weanie and I don't like being cold and then jumping into the water. I'll lift weights one day and do cardio the next. It should break things up so that it won't get too old.

You know the problem with exercising always is that I want instant results. I want to look like an athletic man, perhaps a triathlete, but I want to look that way right now. Okay...I've taken a couple of months off of regular exercise because of my busy life. Muscles that appeared toned and tight, now are a bit fleshy. I've had to use the next notch in my belt and I'm not happy about it. I want to go out right now and exercise my ass off and get back to where I was only a few months ago. The sorry fact of the matter is that things take two things...time and dedication...plus all the crap that I like to ingest has to go bye bye...It's a use it or "gain it" proposition...because I sure as hell didn't lose anything over the last two and a half months.

J commented that she needed to get going again. Maybe we need a couples recommitment to exercise. It was so easy when we were first married. We were childless, had some cash, and definitely had the time. There was this great gym in Seoul that we spent probably an hour and a half to two hours a visit, five to six times per week. The layout was cool and the locker room was top notch. You could have had a five course meal on the mens' locker room floor, it was so clean... We did our own things, challenged ourselves, and laughed at each other. Now, life has changed so much. There is no time in the day to do that together...hell the only time to do things is so early in the morning, that most humans would kill a person for smiling and saying "Hi."

Life is good...changes happen...and you can't do what you once did easily. I know that to remain vital, I've got to exercise. I just want people to whack my knuckles when I grab a big mack or an extra handful of Doritos.

At Home Today

I had yesterday off, but here I am at home again today. It's daddy's turn and I am up to the challenge. What do I mean by that? The Bun had a fever of 102.5 yesterday, so she's being held out of daycare today as well. Something about waiting 24 hours if your kid had a fever. Well I'm here to tell you that today there is no fever and she's running around is if nothing ever was wrong. Daddy's here anyway.

She's just gotten to sleep after lunch. She always takes a decently long nap after lunch. She ate early and started rubbing her eyes, so we finished up with her grapes and corn dog and she toodled off to bed without so much as a complaint. I wish her brother were that way, but getting him to bed is a task not for the faint hearted. It takes all of my strength and patience to get my son to bed for naps and at night. Getting him out of the bed in the morning is even more trying, but that's just a cross we have to bear with him. Oh well...

This morning we've watched the video that she calls "Yellow Monkey" a few times, played with playdough, chased each other, had daddy rides, and cleaned up more than once. That's a pretty standard morning. I filled in the gaps by doing some laundry. I have some more to do now, so i don't want to take too much time on the computer. If the commanding general comes home and her private first class has not done his appointed duties-I gotta vacuum too, she won't be happy. She has this uncanny ability to get crap done around the house when she's home with the kids. Daddy on the other hand creates more of a mess than what he was left with. I'm trying to rectify the situations she's come home to in the past. Well...I have to run. I bid you all a warm hearted adieu. Have a good one out there!

Change of Plans

It's bitterly cold up here in the northland. So much so, that we've abandoned plans for our weekend/anniversary/J's birthday ski weekend. We called the motel yesterday and cancelled our ski package weekend. My mom and stepdad are leaving for Mexico next weekend and won't be back until Feb. 10th. I just got off the phone with my mom and we've rescheduled the whole thing for mid-february. So, I guess it will be called the late anniversay/J''s birthday/valentines weekend ski trip. We're both bummed, but freezing our butts off isn't what we envisioned for the weekend.

So, this weekend is one to hunker down in the house, get blankets pillows, lay on the sofa and loveseats and watch a bunch of cartoons with the kids. I'll make my famous microwave carmel corn, have tombstone pizzas, drink pop, and just be lumps. To tell you the truth, it sounds like a good weekend to me. We'll make the best of it. We are determined to ski though. We've bought all this extra crap/skiwear, so we are definitely going skiing, come hell or high snow!!! It's just not on our timetable.

Change of topic...

Since we are two blocks away from the downtown Target in Minneapolis, I find myself there quite a bit. I went in just to get some office munchies and I briefly walked through the menswear section. It's okay to say it...I just don't get fashion today. I realize I'm out of touch. I actually embrace my out of touchedness. Okay...here's my question. Why are people buying things, by that I mean mens' clothing) that is new, but looks like it's had the crap beaten out of it and worn over and over? Why do you want to by something new that has the look of used and crappy stuff? There were t-shirts, hoodies, jeans, and sweatshirts that all looked like goodwill should get rid of them...I was through Macy's the other day and I saw the same thing...probably moreso with the fashion t-shirts that they were selling on the second floor (I pass through Macy's via the skyway when I go to the IDS Center's Crystal Court to get a Sola Squeeze sometimes). Every one of the shirts looked as if laid off grape stompers (with clean feet of course) with nothing better to do were hired to jump up and down on them until they were sufficiantly beaten looking. The sick thing is that these beaten up articles of clothing, especially at Macys, are completely out of my price range. I don't get why you don't buy something new and just wear it until it looks like the new stuff at Macys? I know...I know...the really worn stuff will be out of style by the time it gets worn out enough to be on mannequins at Macys.

It's kind of dumb, but that's what I thought about this morning...just that kind of random thought that pops up now and then. Usually, when these thoughts come out I have to push them back down because when I verbalize them in the office, the women (and I mean all women, I am the only guy among six people in a smaller office of cubes) usually roll their eyes and tell me I've fallen off of the deep end. I guess that's one of the reasons I blog...because of women. There are two females at home...and then five here at the office. I love women...they are wonderful...they bring joy to my soul...They are the best thing about being a guy...but sometimes letting the real me out in front of them is a little hazardous. So...I'll just keep blogging.

Storytelling

One of the things I envy about certain people is their ability to tell stories, by either writing or putting it out there verbally. Storytelling is a craft that I think is underrated in today's society. Sure, we modern human beings sit in front of screens and are entertained by a variety of programs on TV, in theaters, on stage, and via the internet, but I'm convinced we are passive consumers and expect to be entertained mostly by the drivel that we've become accustomed to. I am as guilty of that as the next person. My day is so hectic that all I want to do is sit in a catatonic state in front of the TV screen when I get home later in the evening. My imagination is set aside at that time so I can be spoonfed reality shows that most folks find so fascinating. The latest offering of this complete stink is "Celebrity Rehab" with Dr. Drew.

To tell you that I am not culpable in keeping this show off the air would be a lie. I watched the first episode because I was indeed curious. I will be honest to admit it, but I won't be watching it again. First, let me give you some background on the show. Celebrities, if you want to call them that, are in a southern California residential rehab center. These folks , and I'm not sure who most of them are (the only one I'm really familier with is Jeff Conaway, since I was in high school during Taxi, and I watched it a lot), want to change their lives and are in the rehab. I'm sure there's some sort of payday attached to it as well, so I question the motivations of these participants. The one redeeming thing I saw during the first episode where these folks going through detox...not a pretty sight, and the result of Conaway's smuggling something in, taking it and having a siezure. He was reduced to drooling and babbling in a wheelchair. I hope some folks were able to see the mess that alcohol and drugs can create in peoples' lives. The rest of the show seemed completely worthless to me. What have we become if we readily watch this kind of stuff? We've turned into catatonic, voyeuristic vultures, only responding to the contrived shit in the lives of psuedo celebrities living in a house together, choosing a mate from multiple applicants, getting sober, or going through therapy.

Getting back to storytelling. I was at the gym again yesterday morning and decided to go into the cardio cinema. I saw that the movie being shown was "A Walk in the Clouds." I went in and thought I would just marginally pay attention to the movie. It appeared to be a "chick flick" and I didn't want to invest myself in it. I mean...it had Keanu Reaves in it...so I thought...I'll just look up at the screen every little bit to take my mind off of the work. Okay...I was wrong again. From the moment that I walked in, the cinematography just sucked me in...The story was simple, yet compelling. Keanu's bad acting didn't destroy the film because the cast of players was indeed strong. Anthony Quinn had a wonderful role as a grandfather, stringing Reaves on longer and longer. Just seeing a portion of this film picked up my day yesterday. It's great how a simple story and wonderful visuals can give vibrancy to a person's mood. It gave me a sense of hope. It's wonderful when a storyteller can inject life into a day. Things like that make me look for storys to hear.

Oh, the joys of parenting

I gave J a call this afternoon when I had a little time here at work. I found out that Goobs had a case of "sticky fingers" in Target this morning before he was dropped off at preschool. I guess he liberated a small ball from the store and J found it when she was strapping him into his car seat. She promptly marched him back in there and they returned the ball. I suppose this is a rite of passage for children and parents. Goobs now has this notch in his little gunbelt...He's got his little preschool shoplifting merit badge. I kind of wish I would have been there too, so I could share the experience. It's nothing to be proud of, I know. But...I do feel like we belong now...we're part of the grand parenting family...those who've dragged their kids back into the store with something that hasn't been paid for.

I know there are other issues that will come up in the future... Playing doctor with the neighbor kids...throwing dried dog or cat poop at a sibling...making inappropriate noises at restaurants...getting tossed out of class (just like dear old dad)...experimenting with inappropriate pyrotechnics that one of the uncle's bought in South Dakota or Wisconsin...getting busted toilet papering a school friend's front yard...you know...the stuff that kids do during their formative years. Maybe I'm being naive about what young people will do...I'm scared about stuff on facebook...internet predators...booze and drugs (lord knows...Samok Daddy was far from angelic). I hope our kids have simple problems. I want them to come to J and I with their fears, worries, and troubles. I know they're only two and four, but I suppose it's never too late to make the impressions as parents that are positive. Man...I hope and pray J and I can be that kind of parenting couple. Toss a coin in the fountain and say a prayer for us...we'll do the same for all of you with kids. It's such a crap shoot as to what will happen in the future. Good luck everybody!

Ahhhh Monday

so, here it is Monday morning. I've just jumped off of the commuter bus, stepped into the office, plopped down on my ball and flipped on the computer. So, what's been happening at the Samok abode over the weekend? Interesting stuff, of course.

Goobs put on some jeans this morning, and suddenly they're too short for him. It's true, they do grow up fast. He's becoming really slim and tall. Of course, I'm referring to a four year old, so you have to forgive my lack of perspective on my own progeny. The Bun has been watching a great deal of Dora and Diego. Three weeks ago, she was running around, saying Daddy, Mommy, Help me! Now, she's becoming a little bilingual. Instead of saying it in English, she is now saying it only in Spanish. We hear "Ayudeme" at least 50 times per day. J and I were up watching TV in the livingroom on Saturday night and we were surprised to hear a small girl's voice and "Ayudeme" come out of her bedroom. We waited to hear it again, but there was nothing but silence...It was kind of funny...I know she's watching Dora and Diego, but I am kind of hoping that some Bisaya will pop out of her mouth sometime soon. It's just a small hope.

We've started this kind of goofy habit on Saturday nights. At 10:00, we turn the channel to AZN and watch Music Bang. AZN is a cable channel that brings over Asian programming, from news and soap operas to movies and music programs...all from various countries throughout Asia. Music Bang is produced in the Philippines and predominantly has videos from the Philippines, Korea, and Japan. The VJ/Host is a young woman who seems like a US hapa, by the name of Malaya Lewandowski(the name's pretty darn Polish, if you ask me). J says that Malaya's got a really irritating voice...It doesn't bother me that much...of course, she's gorgeous and I'm a guy, so I'm not too overly focused on her voice. I don't know why we watch this show on a regular basis, but it seems like a little bit of a lighthearted time where we can just hang out on a Saturday night. We're on the sofa just watching...sometimes not listening to the music a whole lot, but just commenting on what we see. Besides, J usually gets a footrub if we watch Music Bang, so she's not complaining.

We've come to the conclusion that a lot of the Korean videos (mostly the ballads) are overly mellodramatic and cheesey. We saw one a while back about a girl in a wheelchair/mermaid and her boyfriend that went way incredibly over the top. Some of the filipino videos are a little on the weird/funny side, with visuals and symbolism that I'm just not gettin', but I'm okay with that. They're fun for the most part. Some of the Japanese videos seem like the directors are trying new cinematic stuff...Again, I'm not sure what the messages are, but hey...why not enjoy them anyway.

This last Saturday eveing we say two things that made me stand up and notice. There is a very unique group of women/musicians (I want to make that distinction, because I think too many people in the music industry today are not musicians) from Japan. The name of the band is "Pistol Valve." It is a ten woman group of former music school students. This is a combination ska/hiphop/ brass band that really rocks. After seeing them, I dialed them up on youtube and saw a live performance of a tune called "Fo Fo Fo". I don't understand a damn thing, but those girls really put it out there on stage. I also saw an underground hiphop group from Korea. I can't remember the name of the group, so all I can do was describe the video. It seemed like it focused on the feeling of alienation that most people have...certain actors in the video were walking around with clouds above their heads. Suddenly the clouds would spout rain on those folks...so there were multiple people in the video being followed around by mini rainstorms. I thought it was quite creative. Much better than the balladeer who was waltzing with his broom throughout his pretty little cottage (another cheesey Korean video that we actually like to laugh about)

I think we'll keep watching Music Bang. It's goofy...cheesey...and the VJ has that irritating voice, but it maybe takes away a little homesickness we get now and then. I like the routine...So I guess I know where we'll be most Saturday nights.

Here it is Friday afternoon and things have finally quieted down a little bit. I'm able to sit down and put a few words in the blog. It's a nice feeling to have the ability to do that. The problem is that I don't know what I want to post about...the mind is a blank slate...tabula rasa...There's air between my ears...I feel like I've moved into a state of deep "duh."

I will say this...it's the heart of winter now. I know that J and I are going on our ski weekend next weekend...and I am really looking forward to it, even though weather reports have said that next weekend the bottom is going to drop out of the thermometer. We've still got the hotel room with the Jacuzzi and that sounds pretty good. We'll dress warm, ski (beginning lessons for her) and sit in the Jacuzzi...of course we'll have some good food too... It's going to rock... a little romance...outdoor beauty on the slopes...good food...It's a recipe for a fantastic weekend. The grandparents have got Goobs and the Bun...so, we've got all the angles covered. We just want to stay healthy through it all...no broken legs, no twisted knees, nor bruised backsides.

The thing is this...I am dreaming about beaches, exotic fruit, hammocks, and diving again. It's been almost a year since we went back to Davao. It's not fair...I want to run my toes through the sand and lay in the heat. I want to be in a place warm enough where I can sit in the darkness and not shiver. I wonder what it would be like to be independently wealthy...so I could travel here and there without so much as a thought. It's just a thought, albeit a fleeting one.

You know...there's got to be a way to travel for free...some sort of special trial deal...maybe we could offer to be in charge of international documents that need to be sent from Minneapolis to Seoul (Hey, I know it's not a warm place, but it's home...) or Manila...or transport super secret computer chips from the US to a top secret hidden lab in Fiji. Maybe we could be secret shoppers to beach hotels in Phuket or Boracay. There has to be a way...I just can't think of it now... J and I need to sit down and concoct a method that would have airlines beating down our doors, wanting to give us free tickets to any tropical destination in the world. I want an umbrella in my coconut juice...I want to smell like sunscreen...I want flip flop tan lines on my feet. Somebody help a poor boy out...Maybe you have some money that you want to donate to the Samok Family to send us somewhere warm... Dig deep...give from your hearts...help a poor family get warm...Give Samok Daddy a sunburn, help J learn to swim this year...your assistance will help give the kids tans...It's not too late to give...from your heart...

Ha ha ha ha....

Spooked

I am tired today. Really friggin' tired. There's a reason for it. I'm not sure how I feel about the reason, but I'm going to write about it anyway. Folks can either think I'm slipping off of the deep end or maybe they won't, but here it is.

I worked a very long day yesterday at the college. It was the first day of the quarter and students need their advisors for schedule changes and other fun stuff. New students need assistance and it's just a long and stressful day. I truly was beat and needed some rest. I got home rather late, grabbed some leftovers, and sat down with my wife in front of the tube. The kids were down and it was just J and I...nice and relaxing. Here's the deal...I shouldn't watch certain TV shows if I'm really tired. We both kind of like "Paranormal State" on A&E, which is about a paranormal investigative team at Penn State. I went to bed soon after the program about a haunting dealing with dogs dying and possible ritualistic killing of pets. It really really really disturbed me. My eyes were drooping, so I went off to bed and J stayed in the livingroom to watch a little more TV.

I was in the process of drifting off to sleep when those disturbing thoughts from the TV show began invading my thoughts. They weren't clear thoughts, but a blurry hodge podge of frightful feelings that I couldn't really put my finger on or identify. J crawled into bed next to me, and started snoring almost immediately. I started to get an upset stomach...that nasty uneasy stomach that people sometimes get when fear creeps into their minds. I had to get up. I went into the livingroom and flipped on the TV, It was midnight and luckily Anthony Bourdain was in an outdoor market in Kuala Lampuur. I watched that for a while, settled my nerves and headed back to bed. I said a short prayer and focused my thoughts on traveling to some new resort in the Philippines (that always works to relax me). I finally fell asleep...but that wasn't the end of it by far...

I suddenly woke up to what I thought were footsteps toward our bed. Of course, my immediate thoughts are that Goobs or the Bun have come into the bedroom and want to climb into bed with us. That happens pretty regularly, so it's not a big issue...but...I look over on the other side of the bed and there's not a kid there wanting a hand up to the bed. I got up and checked the house at night...calm...nothing out of order...the kids were deeply asleep. I went back to bed I then looked at the digital clock next to the bed...It's 3:00 am- THE TIME ACCORDING TO PARANORMAL STATE (DEAD TIME) THE TIME THAT IS SUPPOSEDLY THE BUSY TIME FOR SPIRITS...Footsteps...oooh...a little weird.

Here's the weird thing...I suddenly began smelling cigarette smoke. Our house is smoke free. Now, you'd probably think that this might bother me, but it made me feel more peaceful. I got the feeling that this visitor...if I'm not losing my mind...is my dad. My dad, when he was alive, was for most of his years, was a practicing alcoholic. The smell of cigarette smoke at night and the sound of snoring were the signs that my dad was alright and at home. For most of my formative years that smell let me know it was okay to fall asleep...I didn't have to silently wait for my dad to come home. He did almost burn the house down once, but that was with a gas stove and a pot of chili...although he probably could have set the house on fire with a lit cigarette. Nevertheless, it was a calming thing for me. I smelled the smoke...or at least I thought I did...smiled and drifted off to sleep. I felt like a little boy again.

Now, shift to 4:45 this morning. The Bun got up and it was a bad morning...She was crying and shrieking. Nothing made her happy...holding her...nope....milk and cereal...no way Jose...rubbing her back...sorry charlie...no dice. I did think I heard her say "Grandpa" at one point. That made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Okay...so now I was thinking my dad came to visit last night. He will have been dead for eight years later this month.

I really didn't believe in the paranormal until the week that my dad passed away. That, in itself, is a story that I need to share to make it clear that this seems like it really might be dad coming back for a short stay. Here's that story...

My folks had been divorced for a number of years, but still had an amicable relationship. If fact, we still took family vacations together...which I admit was kind of weird, but it worked for us. Mom had been dating "Bill" for a long time. Dad liked Bill and approved of the relationship. I got a call in September of "99, with my mom telling me she had gotten engaged and they'd be getting married on the 29th of January. I said...I wish you well...take pictures. I don't think I'll make it back from Seoul...plus...I was going on vacation in February and spend a month with J in Davao. They were definitely cool with that...but things changed. Thanksgiving of '99, I got another call that my dad had gone in for a check up and they found a spot on his lung. He was then diagnosed with "small cell lung cancer". My father's health deteriorated quickly. He told my mom and Bill not to change their plans regarding their wedding. They complied with his wishes.

I got a call from my sister-in-law in mid January of 2000 that I needed to get my butt home in a hurry. My plans completely changed. I flew home hurriedly and was able to spend one week with him before he died on January 25, 2000 (it's weird because the 25th is J's birthday and the 26th was his birthday). As per his wishes, the wedding went on. Good Shepherd Lutheran Church in Owatonna MN held my dad's funeral on Friday, January 28th, 2000. On Saturday, January 29th, 2000 (the very next day) I walked my mom down the aisle in the very same church for her wedding. That's weird in itself, but wait...it gets better.

My dad used to hang out at this coffee shop-candy shop in Owatonna for lunch. He made friends with the crusty, old, loveable waitress (I can't recall her name today). They would always sip coffee, tell off color jokes, and laugh together. As a favor, she told me that she was going to keep a filled cup of coffee set at the end of the diner bar as a tribute to "Dickie". Dad would also go over to her place and they'd have coffee at her kitchen table. The waitress did this with a cup of coffee at her kitchen table at home also. She came up to me on Monday following the funeral/wedding with this odd look on her face. She left that cup of coffee for dad at her kitchen table -she left it there at the beginning of the day. She came back late in the afternoon, and to her amazement...THE COFFEE WAS STILL WARM!!!

Okay...there's more...On the morning after the funeral (mom's wedding day)...I was lying in my old bed...in the basement. I was completely warm and comfortable. I felt good...I had cried...I hugged my family...I felt love and knew that dad was in a good place. I also knew that today was a big day. There I was...all warm and comfy, and I heard a whisper..."Steve"...It was not frightening at all. The tone was loving. I got up and looked around. There was no one downstairs. I went upstairs and found a note...my mom was at the hairdressers to get ready for the wedding. She had left over an hour before. I was alone...yet I knew I had heard a voice.

Finally, at the wedding ceremony... Let me backtrack just a bit. We had taken pictures prior to the ceremony. There were quite a few pictures of mom and Bill lighting the unity candle together. There was no problem lighting the candle before the ceremony...but during the ceremony, it was a completely different story. They tried over and over and the candle absolutely refused to light. My brother, sister, and I were sitting in the front row and we all began giggling. We shared with each other that dad was probably behind the candle, blowing it out. Dad had a sense of humor and was always joking. Mom and Bill had to give up on the unity candle after spending what seemed to be five minutes trying to light it. We tried lighting it after the wedding and it fired up right away...so...you tell me...was dad trying to inject a little of his humor into the festivities???

All of this, combined with last night's fun...kind of leads me to believe that Dad might be visiting. I think he wants to see his grandkids and also to see if his firstborn is doing alright. He never got to see me get married and he never had the joy of holding Goobs or the Bun. So, if it is Dad...I'm not going to stress. We made our peace before he died and I know that he did the best he could with the cards he was dealt. Of course, this all could be in my head. Either way...I think I'm cool with it.

We'll see what happens tonight.

More Travel Channel

It's Friday morning, I'm at my desk, and I can hear my coworkers either milling about in their cubes or chatting amongst themselves. We've got students coming back to school on Monday, so the energy level in the office is ramping up a tad. A lot of my coworkers have been under the weather. I was feeling a little crappy too, but I'm muddling through. I took the day off on Wednesday and just laid on the sofa with no energy, enduring a headache and nausea. I'm better now, but still not quite right.

If you've read my blog from earlier in December, you might have read that my dream job is to be a guy like Anthony Bourdain, who's got a travel program (No Reservations) and goes from country to country and meets with locals, hangs out, and eats. What could be better? On Monday (New Year's Eve) , the Travel Channel had a "No Reservations" marathon. On Monday morning, I was still in my jammies, Goobs was enthralled with his new "V-Smile" educational game with the small TV we bought the kids and the Bun was busy hammering on something near me in the living room.

I flipped on the Travel Channel out of sheer habit, and there Bourdain was, somewhere in Seoul, in a Pojang Macha (a street tent/bar-eating establishment), eating ttak Dongjjip (chicken butt) and knocking back soju. He was being taken around Korea by a young woman by the name of Nari. Nari took him to a variety of different places...an arcade in what looked like Myongdong, various bars and eating establishments, and a noraebang (singing room) that was decked out in pink with stuffed animals around the place. The one real thing that stood out about the whole thing was that Bourdain was "blasted" almost the whole time. The soju never stopped flowing through the whole debacle. Nari even took him to a combination yontan (charcoal) factory/ natural sauna to sweat out the alcohol. Following the sweat, samgyupsal (pork) was served with the obligatory soju chaser-for breakfast no less. By the end of the program, I felt hung over and I was drinking orange juice and eating toast.

Korea, more specifically Seoul, holds such an important place in my heart. It's where I had a pivotal change in my life...where I grew up...where I believe I learned to be a man. The funny thing about my personal transformation is that Seoul is where I first learned how to live life without alcohol. Odd, since alcohol seems to be such an important part of developing personal relationships with friends and coworkers. Maybe that held me back from becoming closer to some folks there...Koreans have a word (Jung) which kind of translates to "deep bonding." Perhaps I missed out by not sharing the experience with getting drunk with a group. I know that some folks off on official occasions when asked to drink and I refused. I did come up with the story that I had an allergy to alcohol...which is definitely true. I think some of them felt sorry for me that I couldn't fully dive into deep bonding with them. I think I'm a better man for it...even though I lost out on a little "jung." I've climbed mountains, sipped tea in peaceful settings, smoked cigars on rooftops, been obnoxious in noraebangs, played soccer, skated, cooked, ate...and always had a hell of a lot of fun. I can remember all of it...and I never puked during any of those experiences. I hope that Anthony Bordain got to see and do some of the cool things that I had the pleasure of taking part in.

My son's wisdom

Goobs came up to me yesterday and said, "Dad, you know dogs don't need seatbelts." I just smiled and told him, "Yes, that's true."

Thank God for kids like him that give adults a chance to ponder the world after hearing their statements.