Road Variety

Cedit: Google Maps

Even though this map represents a Saturday morning filled with parental errands, it also is a significant bit of fun for a suburban dad like me.

I get to drive downtown to the art school and hang out for a few hours, pretending that I am hip. But when that was done, I drove back towards home and dropped Sarah at Easton to hang out with a friend, and then drove to pick up Grace from a different friend's sleepover and then dove back home once more through Westerville.

Hardly used the same road twice--which is a favorite goal of mine when I drive.

Resigning myself to my faults during a walk in the woods

Thanks to Grace for running the camera during the shooting of this walk in the Cherry Log residential woods.

Sorry that the footage is grainy in spots. But you all know what the woods look like, right/

Discussing Car Games While Driving a Car

It's the most meta video yet . . .

Thursday, June 2, 2016

Traveling has gotten easier as the kids are older. The amount of stuff you have to take with you definitely decreases (which pleases my mind and eases some of my anxieties around driving long distances.

And the kids tend to take care of themselves for the most part. They've got their phones, and music, and occasionally some discussions to keep up happy.

Things are really pleasant here in north Georgia. It's warm, but not oppressive. And the trees everywhere are great. It should be a wonderful weekend, celebrating Bill and Cheri's 50th wedding anniversary this Saturday.

I'll do my best to post more video of the celebration--as long as it doesn't bother people. So, more to come.

Party Month 2015

 It's been an eventful Party Month--as they often are. (For those of you who may not know, the stretch of the calendar from late June through late July is called Party Month at our house. Why? Well, it encompasses Grace's birthday, Lynda's birthday, Lynda and my wedding anniversary, and Sarah's birthday.)

Party Month 2015 ALSO included a family trip down to Ft. Walton, Florida for some beach fun with the rest of the Martins. So, as I said . . . eventful.

We started Party Month off with a celebration of Grace's 12th birthday. I know that I say this every year . . . but I really love how Grace holds such a fierce attitude toward life and towards herself. She expects the best and the most out of herself. And while that sometimes generates feelings of frustration, I want her to hold onto her high standards and keep up the fight.
It's no secret that over the years, the quick temper that she inherited from me has caused clashes between us. But I'm very happy to say that those kinds of problems have diminished so much as she has aged and matured.
You might think that her middle child status might be a problem. But then you don't know Grace Martin. She's never going to allow you to overlook her. (And you totally should not. She's a special person and is only getting better.

As June transitioned into July, the family packed up and we went to the beach for fun with family in Florida.  I hope that everyone had as good a time as I did. And I hope Florida got to appreciate hosting the 2015 Official Hat of Summer for a few days. While we were there I hung out on the beach, played in the surf, went fishing with my brothers and my dad and enjoyed lots of good food and family time. While we were travelling down South, we also had the chance to finally eat at Amy's SASS restaurant in Thomasville and to see the new Thompson twins in Waycross. The food was delicious (as expected) and the babies were cute (as predicted). It is too bad that we can't be with family more often. But I hope we made the best of it when we have the chance.

While we were in Florida, Lynda and I observed our 20th wedding anniversary. We got to go out by ourselves and had a really great dinner--with incredibly fast service--at the Red Bar. It was highly recommended by many people that we talked to and I definitely wasn't disappointed by the experience.
(I feel that much of this stuff isn't really news to you guys, because we've already posted these pictures and made comments on the Facebook pages while it was happening. But the institutional pull of WWYG?! and occasional blogging demands that I try to put some of these events into a different perspective anyway. Maybe I did a better job describing Party Month in years past when my digital focus wasn't pulled onto different platforms and social media services so often.)
And there are many, many more things to say about the 20 years of happiness that Lynda and I have shared. But I'm hoping to focus on that stuff later this year . . . when bigger plans for a anniversary-dedicated trip can be discussed. So, just assume that I know I'm incredibly lucky.

Once we got home from Florida, it's time to settle back into the rest of the summer and look for fun before the mid-August first-day-of-school arrives. Part of THAT effort was when Grace and Sarah and I stood in line outside Columbus' Ohio Theater to experience a bit of the Paper Towns movie pre-release madness. The weather wasn't too hot or rainy and the crowds were amiable and excited. We were treated to a 19 minute preview of the film and a question & answer session with author John Green and three members of the film's cast. I think we all had fun experiencing a bit of Nerdfighteria IRL. Maybe it wasn't as intense as the Pottercast visit back in 2007 . . . but it was still fun.

And then, as happens each year . . . Party Month comes to a close with Sarah's birthday. This year she is turning 15 and is firmly established in teenagerdom and high schoolery. And as is often the case, her birthday overlaps with some other event. In years past it was either our church's Vacation Bible School or when she was out-of-town at a summer camp. In 2015, it just happened to be both of those things at once!
So, she wasn't here when the big day came. But we'll find a way to celebrate after she (and Grace) return from Procter Camp this weekend.
From my perspective, I think Sarah is handling her teenage years pretty well. There are definitely highs and lows--but she is holding onto a pretty clear understanding of who she is. Unfortunately, she is just having to wait for other people to catch up to her. And I dearly wish it could happen faster. Sarah is funny and smart and engaging and great and I really want more and more people to understand that. Someday they will. And we can say we knew it first.

So, goodbye Party Month 2015. It was a good one.

For those of you who aren't on Facebook, you can visit my Why Won't Your Photo?! site to see some of the photos that I took during my trip to Israel.

Today I've posted a series of shots taken during my first day in the country while Lynda was working. I walked from Tel Aviv, along the Mediterranean coast to the old historic area of Jaffa.

I created a sorted list of posts that highlight the photos that I took in Jaffa. You can access the site from this link: Why Won't You Photo?!\Israel.

Cesarea, Haifa, Acco

Thursday night after Jerusalem, some of Lynda's coworkers began their trip home to Ohio. On Friday, Lynda and I went with a few of our remaining trip-mates to take a tour north from Tel Aviv to visit some of Israel's Roman Era past.

We left the hotel at 7:15 and boarded the tour bus with some strangers, then left for our first stop at Cesarea, an old port city built from nothing by Herod the Great back in the First Century A.D. Herod built a sea wall and constructed a deep water port for trading ships, making Cesarea an important port on the trade routes between Rome and the Far East. With the port in place, the city grew large by the standards of the era. But, as I can tell from my visit, the Mediterranean Sea can be a turbulent place. 

Even though Cesarea grew to feature an amphitheater, a hippodrome, and lots of impressive buildings and towers, the sea won in the end. One storm that was too strong damaged the break wall and the harbor was also broken. Combined with the growing decline of the Roman Empire, Cesarea began a slow decline and the population began to go elsewhere. 

Our tour took us to the amphitheater, across the excavations of the remaining portions of the hippodrome, and gave us the chance to see some bits of the decorations from when Herod lived by the sea. The tour guide and driver--named Menachem--also showed us a cornerstone of a house that (supposedly) Pontius Pilate built to gain favor of one of his superiors. I admit that I wasn't paying as much attention to all that Menachem was telling us because I was intent on taking pictures and looking for interesting stones to take home. (Don't worry, I never pried anything out if a wall, but made sure to only collected rocks that we were walking on. This probably ensured that it was trucked to the site fifteen years ago during a rehabilitation of the tourist site.)

Also, Menachem was very conscious of keeping us moving from place to place. We did have a full schedule of places to see and driving in between, but there was the added pressure of getting places and finishing before Sabbath (Shabbat) began at sundown. Not that Menachem was particularly Orthodox--that I could tell--but when a fair portion of restaurants and services shut down for the next 24 hours, there was a stopwatch on us.

In Cesarea and for the rest of the day, Menachem would lead the group from location to location, give a five-minute lecture on why we were seeing what we were seeing, then let us loose to wander and take photographs. He normally gave us five minutes . . . ten if the spot was bigger or somehow more complicated. I tried my best to capture the feel of places, but the camera lens always narrows the field of experience and the eye's memories are always so much more impressive. (I also never figured out how to get the Panorama feature to operate on my camera.)

I also tried to keep including my touring friends in the pictures. Though it might make some of them harder to use later in my "btw" country profile on Israel, I didn't want my memories to be confined solely to rock, wall, and water. I am quite sure I got a large percentage of that, I hope the himan experience will also come through. (As soon as I can download things from my digital camera, I'll point you to those banks of captioned photos.)

After Cesarea, we continued the drive to Haifa, where we were supposed to see the Ba'Hai Gardens. But due to the rains that happened off and on during our drives, the series of steps that led down to the gardens were viewed as too slippery for touring and the gate had been closed before we arrived. So we took pictures from above, looking down at the crescent of the city built up along the shore of the Mediterranean and coming up the hills towards where we stood. It was a pretty remarkable view, even so. 

[Side note amongst all of the memories and thoughts--our guide told us of a saying about the cities I experienced during the week there: "In Haifa, they work; in Jerusalem, they pray; in Tel Aviv, they party."]

From Haifa, we drove to Acco, where we saw a former prison building from some time in the past--I don't remember what Menachem said about that. But what was especially interesting about that was while the prison was being used, one prisoner tried to tunnel out of this cell and in so doing, uncovered an entire underground structure beneath the prison that dated back to the Crusades. So we toured through the cavernous halls beneath the prison. I couldn't help but think of the halls of Rohan or the mines of Moria as I walked between the big columns, the vaulted domes in the ceiling above and the like. (And the fact that they were doing reconstruction and restoration work on some of the columns and areas around us emphasized the "unnaturalness" of the experience.)

Acco wasn't the overwhelming experience of Jerusalem or the scenic experience of Cesarea. But it was a nice place to walk, experience history, and be around the people of Israel. Tourism is an isolating experience, and at times, you can feel very foreign and very "managed." The anthropologist in me doesn't like to feel so separated from everyone around me, emphasizing my difference. But it was a bit unavoidable in this circumstance. And since this was my first immersion into a foreign country and I wasn't prepared to try driving a rental car on my own and didn't have the language skills to so it alone, I think this was a good first attempt. Maybe if I ever go back to Israel, Lynda and I (and the kids?) can do more exploration on our own. But for the first experience, being managed worked well for us.

After the Crusades experience, we went for lunch at a cafe in Acco. Here was one of the more enjoyable moments of this day, as we talked one on one with some of the other tourists on this trip. While eating falafal, I found out that I was sharing a table with a couple from Melbourne, Australia who stayed in our Tel Aviv hotel when it was first opened decades ago. We also got to know a young German man staying in a Tel Aviv hostel and traveling alone while he took a break from his medical studies. Finally, we met a young Chinese woman who was in Tel Aviv for business and had extra time to explore the country. There were all nice people and good lunch companions. It was pleasant to spend some time talking about our own experiences and breaking down the barriers of our diversity. Later that evening, when we all departed the bus, we could say goodbye to each other with a bit more meaning.

The last stop for this day of touring was probably the most interesting and impressive--the Grottoes at Rosh-Hanikra.

Supposedly, when he was young Menachem swam here with his friends, and based on the pounding of the Mediterranean Sea into the cliff-side, he must have been something of a daredevil during his youth. We rode the cable cars down to the grotto entrance and our guide informed us that when he told us to go, we had to walk quickly along the pathways carved into the cliff side going down and around at sea level.

I was glad that there was a handrail, because the tunnel floor was slick with rain and sea mist. In a few spots, I might have lost my balance if not for holding on. But I had decided to take my iPad down here with me, to capture video of the tide pounding in and out, so I was also worried about dropping it. (I didn't.)

Menachem was intent on hurrying us through, but at one point, he was paused right in front of Lynda. I think he was waiting on people in front of us to move. But as we stood there, the seawater surged up from a tunnel behind us and flowed down the tunnel towards us. With our backs turned, we didn't know it was happening until we felt the water hit our feet and soak up to our ankles. There was a lot of unexpected shrieks and laughter.

Lynda wasn't entirely happy about getting her socks and shoes wet, but I thought it was a fun surprise. When we got back to the hotel that night, we used the bathroom hairdryer to prevent the sneakers from mildewing and after all, everything worked out fine.

It was a long day of travel and sightseeing, and when we got back to Tel Aviv, the sun was going down and Sabbath was underway. This was driven home when we got to the hotel elevators and found this sign waiting for us.

Dear guests. The left elevator is in a Shabbat position. For your convenience, please use the right elevator. Enjoy your stay. The Management.

As Brian explained to us, an elevator in the Shabbat position moves automatically from floor-to-floor, one level at a time. This allows the Orthodox to ride the elevator without doing "the work" of pushing a floor button. I loved this small window into the culture all around me. Just another example of how fun a trip like this can be.

Jerusalem--the Old City

After Lynda was done with her work on Wednesday, the company paid for them (as well as Matt and I) to take a tour of Jerusalem. We left after a brief time at the Tel Aviv office and took a tour bus w/ guide into the city. Along the way we learned some brief history about Israel.

Once in the city, we stopped at an overlook of the many hills that make up The Holy City. Our guide--who's name I never heard--showed us the area of the Old City within the walls, as well as the hills making up the Mount of Olives and another Mount that I can't now recall. After this orientation, we drove down into the city and entered the Old City at the Jaffa Gate.

Then we walked through the inclined, narrow alleys that are lined with a dizzying number of merchants selling everything from scarves to jewelry to trinkets to olive wood carvings to souvenir plates, to food, to whatever. (You know, some people had warned me about security issues in Israel, but I was more worried about the merchants and the prospect of haggling than I ever was with muggers or terrorists or whatever. But, unless you saw something you wanted, you just keep on walking, right?)

And speaking of walking, there was a lot of it to do in Jerusalem. As I said, the streets of the old city were more like ramps going up and down. There were steps cut into the inclines, with narrow inclines set between steps. I thought that the ramps were placed there for strollers, but when I passed a mother lifting, lifting, lifting her own stroller I found that wasn't the case. Whether it was intentional or not, the moped riders were taking the most advantage of them, quickly maneuvering through the crowds and going up and down.

I wonder if the ramps were a new addition to the streets in a renovation some decade past. It is always a valid question when visiting a tourist city, even one as ancient as Jerusalem--and maybe even MORE valid in such a place . . . how real is what you see? Certainly the buildings are real, and that is a spectacular experience to see the inside of the Church of the Holy Sepelchure, when before you've only seen photos. The building has stood since the Middle Ages and millions have passed through it. The mosaic art on the walls and the architectural detailing are worth every moment. To count myself among those to have seen it is so meaningful. But, was Jesus nailed to the cross in that corner of the building, hung to die only five feet to the left of that, then laid in a tomb that is--unexpectedly--another twenty-five feet to the left of that and down some stairs? Really?

To say that the Bible never gives the impression of such proximity is, obviously, a useless argument for or against. I've always believed the Bible to be a good approximation of the life of Jesus and a guideline of how to live a Godly life. It can't be taken as a verifiably accurate description of how it really happened. And especially not for the most critical moments that must mean the most. As with other aspects of religion, the believer must act on faith and live in hope. So, is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre a shrine or an amazing museum and recreation? My historical objectivity must claim the latter, and that does not weaken my spiritual experience.

Maybe that is why it felt more meaningful to visit the Temple Mount later that day. Here was a historical place filled with actuality AND spiritual depth. Here I could take a short prayer, place a tourist yarmulke on my head, approach the Wall, place my prayer, touch the stones, and think about where I was, how I got there, say a prayer of thanks and hope, and look into the twilight with people all around me.

Thinking back, this moment, alone in my own personal silence, was the biggest blessing and the greatest gift. (I am choking up and tearing as I try to explain it.) I am so lucky to have the beauty of my life and to have the chance to have that moment is built upon the love, work, and friendship of so many people in my life, past and present. I hope they can be assured that I am grateful to them for the role they play in my life.

Old Jaffa on Wednesday

Karen's husband Matt accompanied me to the city of Old Jaffa on Wednesday morning. We walked along the paved walkway, south to Old Jaffa, which sits on a small promontory bluff above the sea.

I didn't read all of the historical signs available, but I think that among the many peoples that have lived and controlled Jaffa in the past, the French are among them. This assumption is partly based on the fact that the historical markers used to point out important sites is a statue of a Napoleonic looking soldier. The soldier stands with his arm out, holding a sign that says Historic Site and something in Hebrew.

Matt and I walked up and down the twisting alleys and steps throughout the morning, taking lots of pictures of the old stone walls, trees, doors, and things.

It is a funny thing that tourists do--what might I think if someone walked into my yard, stopped, and took a picture of my front door for some reason? But I've never lived in a historic, picturesque, town on a bluff above the Mediterranean Sea . . .

At one point, Matt wanted to takes picture of an interesting tree that was down some steps within a courtyard. We met a woman at an art studio that immediately began talking to us and ushered us into her studio, closing the door. We learned that she was the daughter of the artist who began the studio--lots of silhouette imagery of Jews in traditional black clothing in front of white backgrounds. Some had a layered, 3D effect. The art was nice, I guess, but felt a bit too . . . immigrant? Not native or based on history? Something that was aimed at tourists possibly?

The woman we spoke to was from New Jersey, actually. She seemed to enjoy speaking English to someone--but was also hoping to make a sale, I'm sure. Her elderly parents lived above and were getting to old to manage all the stairs up and down to the studio space. She was helping them sell the studio so they could find a more suitable place to live at that point. (She was not a recent arrival in Israel, though. She went to university at some nearby city and did seem to enjoy living in Israel. Things were just in transition for her and her parents.)

Matt and I left after a few more minutes and continued our wandering. It was a beautiful, bright morning with cool breezes coming through the alleys at some spots to keep us cool.

Just before noon, we walked to the Roman Catholic church that dominates the plaza at the top of the bluff. We walked in St. Peter's Franciscan church for a few moments and I took some photos of the painted ceiling (the Keys to the Kingdom among other symbols) and the altar decorations. After only a few mental, however, the Franciscan priest appeared and ushered us out. He said that the church was closing (for lunch, maybe?)

Matt and I then took a break, ate some fruit and nuts and drank water. We watched a family get some pictures taken by a fountain across the plaza where we sat. The fountain featured lots of kid-friendly, cartoonish characters, some with water coming out of mouths.

The leader of the group we were watching was very loud and boisterous, which I understand is very Mediterranean . . . but he was really telling everyone what to do in such tones! Quite dominating! It made me wonder if the family had been traveling and taking pictures for days and he was saying something like "Just ONE more by this fountain! Hurry UP grandma, over HERE! Yes, right HERE! Hurry!" (You know, like you do when you've been sightseeing a bit too long.)

On our way out of Jaffa, Matt was asked to take a group picture of some Israeli teens wandering through. (There was no school that day, or it was a holiday celebrating trees--sort of like our Arbor Day. At the Time To Know office where Lynda was working that day, they planted a new tree.)

Two of the teens were girls in the military, providing their mandatory service to the State. They were in uniform and one carried a rifle. I had been told it was not allowed to take photographs of the military, but Matt and I guessed that if they ask you--and seem to be off-duty?--maybe it's no big deal?

On the way back to the hotel in Tel Aviv, we wandered through the shopping district, a bazaar-like maze of shops selling everything from second-hand furniture of all sorts, to shoes, tee-shirts, restaurants, restaurant-grade kitchen equipment . . . everything with no rhyme or reason. Everything is so non-corporate and individualized, it appears strange and haphazard to me. But it had a fun energy as well.

Eventually, we made it back to the hotel, footsore and with aching legs. I went up to my room, got out of my sweaty clothes and lay down in the hotel bathrobe to nap and watch some TV. I dozed a bit and also ate fruit provided by the hotel in honor of the holiday being celebrated.

It was a great first day. Today, as I write this, I am in the offices where Lynda has been working this week. After they have a few meetings, our group is being taken to Jerusalem for the afternoon. So much more excitement is yet to come and be described. Stay tuned!

Breakfast

There were many varieties of food in the hotel restaurant today--eggs, pancakes, fruit, cereal in concession to westerners. But there were also quinoa salad, broccoli tops (spicy, surprisingly), creese spreads, sliced vegetables, salmon, and much more.

This is a fancy place, so I don't imagine this is "normal" breakfast. But it more closely resembled a swank church pot luck or a spread of hors de oeuvres at a party. An interesting beginning.

NOTE: I thought it gauche to take a photo of the food, so no picture. Maybe I'll get over some of that tourist hesitation or I'll have no memories.

Today, while everyone else is working, Matt (Karen E.'s husband) and I will walk to Old Jaffe and look around. More pictures will result from that.

The Long Awaited (1st) Post About Our Trip to Disney World

It's perhaps hard to believe that our family trip to Disney World occurred almost two months ago now. And it's more than likely that everyone who needs to hear about the details have already heard them. But, I'm going to try and capture some of the trip here anyway.

(And while were at it, does anyone out there want to troll back through my posts and see how many of them I start with an apologetic tone? I've gotta work on that.)

ANYWAY . . .

We were down in Georgia for my brother's wedding. It was because we were already (more than!) halfway to Orlando that we decided to tack the Disney World trip at the end of the established wedding trip.

And can I pause here to note my utter astonishment when I mapped the route from my home town to Orlando, FL and discovered that it was less than five hours south?! I immediately felt cheated! How could I have lived SO CLOSE to the Happiest Place on Earth my entire childhood . . . only to visit it once with my family? Clearly they didn't love us . . .

But, to be fair, I did get to go two other times--once with a friend when EPCOT was new (and still enticing, but more on that later) and a second time for Grad Night 1990. YEAH! Grad Night! I'll have to search back through my scrapbooks and find the picture taken of me at Grad Night '90. But more on that later.

So, after the wedding festivities, we packed ourselves back into the van and drove south for the (SHORT!!) trip to the Magic Kingdom.

We arrived in Orlando in the mid afternoon and drove into the park's vortex soon enough. But before we were sucked completely below the Event Horizon, we stopped at a grocery store and picked up some kitchen supplies and breakfast foods for our cabin kitchen. We were planning to stay at the Fort Wilderness campgrounds, eating our first dinner there that night and then each morning making our own breakfasts before heading off to the park for the day. Once we got into the campgrounds and registered for our cabin, we spent the rest of the day settling down in our rooms, unpacking, and preparing our dinner of spaghetti.

That night, our first planned Disney thing was to gather with other Ft. Wilderness residents for the Campfire Jamboree with Chip 'n' Dale. So, Lynda gave Hannah a bath and put her in her pajamas--figuring that she'd get tired and fall asleep before we got back to the cabin. (This was the first misinterpretation of what Hannah would do during this trip.) Then, rather than catch one of the buses that drove through the campground, we chose to walk--which we never chose to do again during the next several days we stayed there. It was a bit of a long walk from our cabin, situated near the the entrance to the campgrounds, to the central area where the Jamboree was to be help. But we didn't know that yet.

So we gathered together the chocolate bars, graham crackers, and marshmallows that we'd bought earlier today at the grocery store and set off into the dark night. Using a flashlight and a map of the grounds, we eventually found the area where the two campfires were already burning and smores were already being made. I bought 50 cent dowels to stick the marshmallows on and we got to having some fun. After jocking for position amongst all of the families, I put together enough for everyone to have one (or two) of the smores (if they liked). After that we found a spot in the crowd and were led in some sing-alongs with Cowboy Bob and Chip and Dale themselves. Everyone was having a good time and Hannah danced along to the songs in her PJs. After the singing was over, Chip and Dale circulated through the crowd, "saying" hello to each family in turn and signing autograph books.

Collecting autographs was a new development since I was first visiting Disney World years ago. Apparently it's the thing to do to get a small notebook and whenever you get the chance to see a character in costume, get your picture taken, and get an autograph. I'm not sure how the "characters" can see well enough to sign, but they are surprisingly good at it. For each day we were out and about, we were always on the look out for signing opportunities. We did quite well, actually.

After the visits from the chipmunks, the last event of the evening was an outdoor theater viewing of a Disney movie. That night it was Monsters Inc. We stuck around for the first thirty or forty-five minutes of it and then decided to walk back to the cabin to bed down for the night.

The next day . . . our first day in the Magic Kingdom . . . was going to start early. So, we needed our rest.

Away

I'm going to be travelling with the family for the next week and a half.

First will be my brother's wedding down in South Georgia.

Then we'll keep on going down South and land in Orlando for several days of visiting Walt Disney World and the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.

There will surely be lots of exciting details, observations, photos, and much much more.

But I won't be sitting at a laptop very much to do long-form blogging.

So, you really (REALLY) need to be following me on Twitter to stay abreast of all the fun.

If you simply WON'T consider joining up on Twitter, you can come back here and click on the WWYTwitter?! tab at the top of this page, which shows you my most recent tweets.

If you are already a Twitter fan, why not follow me and get all of my amazing insights thrown right at you as soon as they come out of my head? Just hit Twitter and search for my handle http://twitter.com/#!/dtm1971).

You'll be glad you did.

BEDAu Day 17: Most atypical song?

So, as I was driving down to Louisville over the weekend--alone, remember since Lynda and the girls had leaft a day earlier--I was flipping around on the radio, testing out the "repaired" satellite radio in the van. And for the time that the Sirius was coming through nicely, I flipped over the the "80s on 8" channel and the "90s on 9" channel and I alternated back and forth between the two as mediocre songs forced me to switch.

And, at some point, midway to Louisville on I-71, I flip back over the "90s on 9" to avoid some terrible 80s song that even nostalgia can't redeem . . . and I get House of Pain.

And when you hear House of Pain, that can (most likely) only mean one song.

"Jump Around."

And as I always do, when "Jump Around" shows up . . . I listen.

I've got it on my iPhone. It's in my iTunes. I just really enjoy that song.

And as I listened, I thought to myself whether it would surprise others to know that I really, really like "Jump Around." Does that fit whatever image of me they have? Would they consider this atypical of David?

So, here is my question to you tonight (or whenever you get around to reading this). What do YOU think is a song that you believe is something at odds with how you believe others perceive you? Is there a song that you absolutely love, but you think others would be surprised to learn of it?

Leave me a comment describing how you would answer these questions.

BEDAu Day 15: Do I have to?

Well, do I?

Since I already let yesterday go without a post, this might give me permission to just move on. But only missing one day does not equal failure. We may fall short of the goal, but the effort remains.

We returned from our brief visit to Louisville today. We saw cousin T. marry L. with much rejoicing from the H. extended family. There was no time to do much else and see things in Louisville that I've not seen before (such as the campus where my mom went to college, just down the road from where Cousin T. is now attending seminary and where Lynda's dad also attended seminary.

It is interesting how all of our connections may possibly entertained if we stretch them far enough and look within them deeply enough. And yet three (or four . . . or more) lives intertwined this weekend--two by choice and more by circumstance.

It can be a good lesson to remember as we work and play and live together all the time. We don't always agree and we sometimes rub each other the wrong way. But we are sometimes more connected than we realize. Understanding that can make our problems end more quickly.

And that's all I've got to say tonight.

-- Posted From My iPhone (so, I apologize in advance for any typos I missed)

The last few weeks

I know that I have a few FAQ questions that are waiting to be answered, and I will do so (thanks for the submissions!), but the last few weeks have been unusually "interesting," so I thought I would actually generate some content of my own by describing what I've been up to.

First, Grace and I were in a car accident two weeks ago. It was on a Monday night and I was taking her to her Daisy Scouts meeting a few blocks down from our house at the local elementary school. Lynda, Sarah, and Hannah were already on their way to church for one of the weekly Lenten book discussion meetings. As Grace and I were leaving our neighborhood and turning left at the four-way stop onto Spring Road, the offending driver came barrelling right at me. I saw her coming right at me in the corner of my left eye and had just enough to to think that she wasn't even attempting to slow down for the stop sign facing her. I stomped on the gas and attempted to avoid her, but it was too late. She came straight through the sign and hit straight into the driver's side passenger door--right where Grace was sitting behind me. The station wagon spun about 180 degrees and we ended up in the middle of the intersection facing diagonally into the lane that she had just driven through.

In those brief few seconds, I heard Grace scream and then it was over. Once the car stopped, I turned around to see how Grace was doing. She was shouting something like "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!" but then she stopped and heard me as I asked if she was okay. She was.

I tried to get out of the car, but I couldn't open my door. I crawled out of the passenger's side front door and tried to open Grace's door. But it was already crushed and the top of the door was sticking out of its frame. I went back around to the other side of the car, opened the door, and crawled inside to get a good look at Grace. I immediately saw that she had a small bump in the corner of her left eye and the beginnings of a bruise that was running down a streak on the side of her face. But she wasnt bleeding and it seemed that she was mostly okay.

I got out to survey the damage and try to figure what to do. And there was another bystander who stepped up and helped me keep calm and make sure that things were stable. It was really nice to have complete strangers take time out to help. We waited for the police to come and I finally located the offending driver's car off to the side, parked on the side of the road past where the accident originally occurred. The driver was staying in her car--either because she was simply waiting, or because she was worried about whether Grace had been injured, or I don't know what. But throughout the entire process of turning in information and talking to the police she stayed away. (It was probably precautionary, but I didn't blame her for staying away. It wasn't because I was mad. I just didn't know what to say to her and I was more worried about Grace. She remained lucid and calm throughout and I stopped thinking that she was injured. But I made sure that the arriving EMTs took some time to ask her questions and make sure there weren't any concussion problems.

Once all the paperwork was done, the tow truck was there to take the car away for evaluation and the policeman drove Grace and I back down the block to the house. I kept an eye on her for the rest of the night to make sure that she didn't pass out or anything that might indicate some concussion symptoms.

And after that it was the ordinary bureaucracy of determining what to do with the damaged wagon (it was determined to be totaled by the other insurance agency), finding a replacement vehicle, and figuring out how to pay for it. Most of this was done during Holy (Easter) Week, helped mightily by Lynda's dad. (Her parents were visiting during that time.) By the start of this past week, we had settled on replacing the station wagon with another (newer) minivan, figuring that our current minivan (main car) will probably also need replacing in the next few years so we'd have another one ready to roll by then. It is a Chrysler Town & Country and has a few nice features that wasn't featured in the Dodge Grand Caravan that we bought from the Thompsons a few years back . . . but still retains all the features we liked about that van.

I enjoy the time spent getting used to a new car, the new buttons, features, radio presets, and such. It is a prototypical "male" time for me and I do my best to live up to the expectation. The only problem is that all cars today--especially the more complicated ones--have HUGE key fobs that instantly make your keys into a snarled mess that reminds me of how girls use to gussy up their keys back when they were in 6th grade. (Something I never did as a 6th grade girl.) But, such is the technological life.

*****

For the past two-and-a-half days, I 've been traveling (as you might have surmised from my Twitter and Facebook posts). It's unusual for me to do that, so I enjoyed the difference. But I am glad to be home and even more glad to have a day off at the end of the week to close our my kids Spring Break. Next Monday everything resets back to normal and I dive headlong in my new work project.

I hope I am able to resurface sometime before Christmas.

Creatures are stirring

. . . especially in the kitchen.

Broadcasting from Cherry Log (note, two words), Georgia, direct from Nana's kitchen, it's ME making another white chocolate cheesecake. Everyone loves it and I think of Ruth every time I make it. So, spread the love and widen your belt.

Twitter traveling

Many other members of the digirati go Web silent during their holiday travels. But not this guy.

If you follow me on Twitter (www.Twitter.com\dtm1971) you see many travel posts. I'll also cross-post these on Facebook if you frequent there (www. facebook.com\david.t.martin I think--or the picture of yours truly to the right.) And I may add ideas here on WWYG?! as timing allows.

So, stay informed as we go South. Happy Christmas to all.


-- Posted From My iPhone (so, I apologize in advance for any typos I missed)

Frog statues

When we visited the Chicago suburbs a few weekends ago, I had fun with the girls searching out all of Aunt D.'s frog statues.

I took pictures of all that I could find with my iPhone and thought it might be fun to share it with y'all.

Enjoy!

Chicagoland

We're in the Chicagoland area today as a pilgrimage to the recently late film director John Hughes . . .

No, really we are here for a post-wedding Midwestern reception for Lynda's California cousin. Part of the Thompson clan and the brides family are here in the Chicago area.

After an interesting drive through the mean streets of the southern Chicago metropolitan exzurbs, we hit the right roads north and made it to Lake Zurich (??) yesterday afternoon. We enjoyed finding all of Aunt Diane's frogs and now, today, we are preparing for the guests of honor to arrive.




-- Posted From My iPhone (so, I apologize in advance for any typos I missed)

GA Aquarium

In case you haven't been following my efforts on Twitter (cross-posted on Facebook), you might not know that today the family headed down to Atlanta (pretty near the headquarters of Adult Swim, if that means anything to you) for a trip to the Georgia Aquarium.

(Big time thanks to Lynda's parents for coming along, purchasing tickets, and generally helping corral the kids through the crowds.)

It was pretty nice, though--I have to admit--not as spectacular as I wanted it to be. (You can read more about the Aquarium here.) Don't get me wrong, it was pretty dog-gone cool and is a nice addition to the downtown tourist area. But I wanted it to be EVEN MORE cool. You got to walk through a tunnel with millions of gallons of water above you, fish of every type, size, and shape swimming above you. And yet, I wanted the tunnel to be longer. I wanted the crushing weight of the water to be higher.

I'm hard to satisfy, I suppose.

But I think the kids really enjoyed themselves. They oohed and aahed in all the right places. They were appreciative of the size of the whale sharks and manta rays and beluga whales. They enjoyed the touch pools. And the 4-D movie that fairly beat you over the head with environmentalism not seen since Disney's Pocahontas? Well, even I have to admit that the 3-D effects were very effective and the additional sensory layer of blowing soap bubbles, jets of unexpected air, and occasional mists of water made for an enjoyable movie. (But "Deepo" had better watch his back. Nemo's gonna sneak up on him and crack some dorsal fins pretty soon.)

In the end, we all survived a tourist outing. And even though lunch was shocking expensive and didn't offer lots of variety, we had a good time.

The most dastardly part of the entire aquatic affair was that we had to pass through the Gift Show to exit the complex. Truly an evil layout. (And I guess I shouldn't complain, as we didn't end up buy any stuffed animals on the way out. The kids must have either been tired or delirious from something.)

But I did manage to see this gem of a shirt on the way out.