Sit back and let your mind get blown by the genius of this man.

I’m pretty wiped out, so all I have to say is that I love you, Kristen. And here’s to many more awesome years together.

Day 06 → Something you hope you never have to do.

As I was thinking about this post, it began to dawn on me how incredibly selfish my answer to this question is. And how utterly unrealistic it is.

I hope I never have to watch a loved one die. Okay. There it is. It’s cliche and lame, and I know that, but it’s still my answer all the same. I do not fear death. I never really have. What I fear is living alone. My parents or my brother or my wife dead, and some how or other, I’ve survived them all. I hope I never have to see that happen. Even though I know I probably will, for some at least.

It’s an undeniable fact of life that it ends. I fear not that end for me, but for them. Because it means I’ll be left here alone. I know, right? That’s pretty disgustingly selfish, but I can’t help it. I really just can’t imagine how things will be without them. We may not always agree or get along, but dammit, we’re close. And I depend on all of them. In some way or other, anyhow.

I hope I never have to watch them die. I hope I never have to figure out how to pick up the pieces and move on. I hope I never have to sit in some church alone amidst the empty faces sitting around me. I hope I never have to give a heart-felt eulogy when I won’t even know how to feel inside.

I hope I never have to. But I know I probably will. And I hope I can handle it when I do.

December 10 – Wisdom Wisdom. What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out?

While it may seem silly and whimsical, I would definitely have to say that my wife’s and my Disney vacation was the wisest decision that we made this year. Sure, it cost us some money that probably could have been used a little more pragmatically, but we had such a good time. Relaxing, having fun, not having a care in the world.

With some stress having built up over the previous few months due to various life situations, both at work and at home, we needed to go just have some fun. We rode Space Mountain, we laughed with Monster’s Inc. We had some wine and food at Epcot. We got to see the best concert ever. Got to meet a pretty awesome dude.

Refreshed and recharged, but vacation tired, we returned home. Returned to “real life.” But, at least for me, with a new set of memories, a new set of experiences, which made the day-to-day a little more bearable. A little lighter. A little more fun. And that made the money and the travel entirely worth it.

Perhaps not the most financially sound decision, but definitely the most wise.

~~
So. You’re turned 70 this year. That’s 7-0. I’m turning 22 this year, which means that you’ve known me for just a little less than a third of your life. For some of those first years, I probably owe you an apology, but if it’s been this long, you’re probably over it by now anyways. I’ve been spending the last few years in college, and let me tell you, I think they’re missing some things. I’ve learned some of the most important things in life from you, Grandaddy. Here’s a categorized list.

Driving: No matter how many wheels the vehicle had, which has been somewhere between 2 and 6, you always let me have a turn driving it, even if I did so poorly. But more than that, you taught me what those One Way signs really mean. The arrow, I learned one day in Colorado, is merely a suggestion! If you turn against the arrow, that’s okay, so long as you only go one way. “One way.” They didn’t teach me that.

Architecture: What seems to me a precise art, a careful measuring and delicate balance of wood, nails, and the occasional shim, is boiled down to a simple phrase. A phrase which everyone else seems to have wrong. See, in College, they’ve taught me “measure twice, cut once.” No, no, I tell them. The real secret to fine architecture is, “Aww. It’ll be alright. It’ll never be noticed on a gallopin’ horse.”

Medicine: If you cut yourself, or scrap a knee, or break your arm, or crack open your skull, there is one camp granddaddy remedy that cures everything. A genuine article, it probably even cures cancer, but nobody seems to know its magical properties but Grandaddy. Whatever ails you, put a little Camphophinique on it, and it’ll be all better.

What’s more, splinters and stickers need no fancy processes for extraction. A gentle tickle will take care of the problem, with no pain, no muss, no fuss.

Cultural Awareness: College is supposed to be a time when you learn of opinions and secrets from the world over. Well, believe me when I tell you, I received more multi-cultural education from my Grandaddy than I’ve got in college. The wisdom of the ages was passed down, it seems, solely through Granddaddy. His endless supply of old Indian tricks taught me how to mark a cut line with a nail, how to open a stuck jar, how to draw a straight line without a square, and if given enough time, I’m sure I would find no end to the ancient Indian wisdom he carries with him.

Philosophy: While my college classes have given me some pretty tough questions to answer, I have always triumphed. I have found answers, and given them due thought. Some of the hardest-hitting questions have, once again, come from my granddaddy. Questions I have known since I was a wee lad, but have yet to formulate answers for. Really, think about it. Just how much wood COULD a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood? We may never know, but I bet the answer is there somewhere in all that Indian lore.
He is also never content in giving away answers. He is determined that we children figure things out for ourselves. When one of us would ask, “What’s that for?” “This?” He’d smile, “This is for making little boys ask questions.” A regular Aristotle he is.

Literature: I owe my love for English to Grandaddy, even. Through my classes, I have read many different poets and authors, but none have stood against these simple poems of my youth, rattled off effortlessly by Grandaddy.

Time Management and Goal Setting: After a long day of grueling elementary school, he had one question for us. A question to get us thinking about what we were doing, and how to best use our time. “What did you teach them in school today?” Unfortunately, we were too young to know better, and we answered, “Nothing.” He would look at us, and ask, “Well what’d they teach you?” Again, we’d answer “Nothing.” “Well, what did you go waste a whole day for?” At the time, we all laughed, not knowing any better, but you know, as I see it now, he’s got a point there. There’s something to do, and there’s a time line in which to do it.

High Fashion: Thus far, I have heard nothing in school about how I should dress, or what sorts of clothing is best. Grandaddy, however, is always on top of things. The essentials include a good pair of clod hoppers (ones which make you run faster, of course. If they don’t make you run faster, why’d you get them? Hah, there’s more of that Grandaddy practicality.), some ‘spenders to keep your britches (a sturdy pair of blue jeans) up, and a baseball cap. Fun AND functional.

Quality Assessment: No matter the type of product, there is one benchmark that is applied across the board to judge the worthiness of a given product. If that product doesn’t work better than windshield wipers on a cat’s rear, it certainly isn’t worth having.

I don’t even want to think where I’d be without my Grandaddy’s teaching me everything I’d need to get through life successfully. They certainly haven’t let us in on any of these secrets in school.

For as long as I can remember, I always looked forward to what I would learn next from Grandaddy. I always remember looking up to him in awe at how much he knew, how much he’d done, and how strong he was. Well, honestly, I still do. I might be taller, but to me, he’s always going to be Paul Bunyan. The Jolly Green Giant. Santa Claus. Atlas. He’s always seemed larger than life, always ready with a clever turn-of-phrase, a helping hand, a pat on the back to let you know that you are doing well, even when you don’t always do well.

Whenever I find myself feeling a bit overwhelmed and like I’m just not going to make it, I remember those big, strong hands of his grabbing me out of the snow after we turned the snowmobiles over after a blizzard came through. I remember my Grandaddy who can do anything. Who was always at basketball games, cheering, whistling. You could always hear his whistle, no matter how loud the crowd. I remember that I’ve got him behind me, patting me on the back, letting me know that I did well. I remember that I can grab onto his hands, and he’s strong enough to pull me back up, pour on some camphophinique and push me to keep going.

I haven’t ever been as appreciative of that nearly so much as I should have been, and as I write this, I realize how often I take him for granted. How I never call and see how things are going. How I don’t make time to stop by when I’m in town. But you know what? Despite all that, I know, I KNOW, that if I showed up at the door, and I needed him for something, he’d do it. He’s never let me down, and I don’t expect he’ll start now.

Happy birthday, Grandaddy. From all of us to you. And best wishes for many more to come.
~~

Who were you thankful for yesterday?

We got up Friday, intending to go do our souvenir shopping, which I wasn’t too pumped about, but she wanted to do, so you know how it goes. We went out, grabbed a cab to Bryant Park, where we had some delicious food from a place called ‘Wichcraft, and ate in the park while it snowed. While this may sound romantic, it was more cold than anything else, so we quickly finished and headed on our way.

We got stopped by a guy selling tickets to a comedy club, and we figured since it was our last night, why the hell not. We got the tickets, and went on our way. Shopping was pretty uneventful, too. There’s lots of stuff, most of it just utter crap. Lots of stuff that costs too much. Just lots of stuff, period. We got her siblings some “I <3 NY” shirts, got her mom a spiffy Statue of Liberty shirt. Then we got some cool gifts.

We went to the giant M&M’s store in Times Square, where they’ve got nearly every color M&M you can imagine. My dad’s a Baylor alum, so we got him some dark green and gold M&Ms. We also got him a shirt that says “I need a bailout” since he’s been so outspokenly against them. Next, we crossed the street to the giant Hershey’s store. There, we got my mom a large hershey’s bar, with our picture on the wrapper. We also got a souvenir bucket filled with Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups for her dad.

Those were the gifts I liked getting, because they were more than just a T-shirt. They actually meant something. In any case, we had fun, spent too much money, and that was that.

Afterwards, we went to drop all the stuff off at the Hotel, where we proceeded to nap for a few hours, instead of just a few minutes as we’d planned. At that point, we still needed to run by the Gershwin theater to get Kreestone a Wicked hoodie, go eat at Mars 2112, and get ourselves to the comedy club. Well, the Gershwin wasn’t selling merchandise, and there was too long of a wait at Mars 2112, so we ended up eating at Cosi, which had some amazing sandwiches and pizza.

After that, it was off to the Broadway Comedy Club. We ended up being a few minutes early, so we had to wait a bit before being seated. We learned something then: If you do not want to be right up on the stage, where the comedians can, and will, pick on you, don’t get to the comedy club early. We were, literally, front and center. I could have reached out and touched the comedians.

We heard 4 comedians there. There was the emcee, who was pretty funny, and 3 “mainline” acts. Of the three, there really was only one who wasn’t funny. While there’s a good deal of room for crudity and whatnot in comedy, his was just over the top. Often, what makes something funny is that it’s right there on the line, often a little past. That’s why it’s funny. Neither something too far over, nor not close enough, is funny, and he fell into the former category.

I should mention that per the stipulations of the ticket, we had to purchase two drinks per person during the show. This is, undeniably, how they make their money, since admission for two people was only $20.00. The drinks were expensive, but believe-you-me, they weren’t watered down. No, no. Strong drinks, (mostly) good comedy, and front-row seats made for a great last hurrah in New York.

We got to bed, packed up, and the next morning we caught our flight home. Home. Here in Texas, things work a lot differently than they do in New York. First of all, you can get Dr. Pepper in every restaurant. This was not so there. In fact, we only found two. Secondly, you can go get a meal in Texas ridiculously cheaply. I mean, we stopped in for dinner on our drive from the airport, and we both got entrees (not something we did in NYC We split nearly every meal). For about half the cost of most of our meals in NYC, we had soda and two entrees. Now, really, what’s up with that?

In any event, it was a great trip, but we were glad to be home once we made it. I’ve only got one more NYC post, and it’s about the restaurants, so stay tuned!

NYC Aquarium!

Weird fish!

Seahorses!

Fur Seal!

Sea Lion Show! His name is Osbourne

Dancing!

Jumping!

Face!

Cyclone! This was a ride at Astroland, near Coney Island.

Kristen, on an escalator at the MoMA!

The Iris Exhibit! This was a HUGE 3-walled video with relaxing images and sounds, with a HUGE eye-shaped couch in the middle. You were invited to sit down, lie down, stretch out, sing, dance, whatever.

Same exhibit.

These are the pictures. I hope you enjoyed them. All in all, the trip was great, also, in the future, expect a post about restaurants, and the Honeymoon Day 6 post.

We wandered around for a while, eventually sort of just running into tons of signs with writing we couldn’t read that looked vaguely Asian in origin, so we figured that was the place. We walked around, looked in some shops at fake Louis Vuiton, Coach, Gucci, etc etc. It was all well and good. We found a little sketchy looking restaurant, went in, and discovered that nearly everything was written in Chinese. Well, there were some English names on the menu too, but it was, by far, the minority language. We ordered a couple things we recognized, Chicken Lo Mein, and Sweet and Sour Chicken, and waited for the food. It came, and we both decided it was the best we’d ever had. P.F. Chang’s, eat your heart out.

We bundled up again, and went to find this store we’d heard about. It’s called YunHong, and they sell Chopsticks. That’s all. Chopsticks. It sounded lovely, so we set out to find it. It would be an understatement to say we did a poor job. We walked all over, went the wrong way down the streets, etc etc. Then, I panicked. I realized I left my camera bag at the restaurant. We were next to a small courtyard, so Kreestone sat down while I rushed back to the store. I walked back to our table, interrupted the conversation of the people sitting there, and asked about my bag. Fortunately, the waitress saw me come in, and came and got my to tell me they had it at the front desk. *whew* As soon as I realized I wasn’t carrying it, I figured it was gone, but thanks to the wait staff there, I got it back. Cynicism: 0, Humankind: 1.

We continued on our way, on our quest to find the shop, and while we ended up walking about 10 blocks more than we needed to (with all the wrong-waying), we finally found it, and it was amazing! There were some absolutely beautiful chopsticks in there, ebony with silver gilding, mahogany, etc etc. They were absolutely beautiful. We ended up getting a set of 6, bamboo with jade ends. They’re beautiful. (Again, pictures and such later. No camera cable.)

We got back home, rested a little, and got ready to out to our second show of the week: Avenue Q. If you’re a fan of the off-color, non-politically correct, sarcastic humor, then this show is for you. I laughed more than I’ve laughed in quite a while. As with Wicked, if it comes your way, SEE THIS SHOW.

We went back to the Stardust for some shakes, then we turned in for the night. 5 excellent days, just a couple more to go before we return to real life.

Closed on Tuesdays? Really? This is New York City, dammit, the city that never sleeps! Or closes! Right? RIGHT? In any event, we checked out the MoMA shop across the street and figured out what we were going to do instead. We decided to go see the New York City Aquarium, because, hey, fishes and things are cool. We figured out what trains we needed to take and set out to head there.

We got on the train, and waited. And waited and waited and waited. We were on that train for nearly an hour before we got to the stop we needed, but it was well worth it. The aquarium is close to Coney Island, and while this is the third time I’ve been to NYC, I’ve never been down to that area. Really, I was taken aback. There’s something very different walking down a boardwalk than walking down broadway. Rather than being surrounded by an ocean of people, we were more or less alone, with the city on one side and a beach on the other. I guess I should know better, but when I think about NYC, I don’t think beach.

In any event, we saw all sorts of cool fishes, and other marine life, but the best by far was the California Sea Lion show. I’ve got some pictures, but I don’t have my cable, so whenever I get back home, I’ll make one big photo post, (like Ree over at The Pioneer Woman does). The show consisted of a number of his tricks, and I don’t care if it was designed for kids, it was a hell of a lot of fun.

After that, we hopped the hour-long train back to the hotel, got ready, grabbed a pretzel, and saw Wicked at the Gershwin Theater. I’ve seen the show before, in Dallas, but let me tell you, the NYC company absolutely blew them away. The show was phenomenal, even if Galinda accidentally threw her wand off stage and Elphaba accidentally whacked Fiyero in the head with her broom. If you’re ever in New York, see this show. That’s really all there is to it.

Despite the fact that Kreestone and I were being a little cranky yesterday, it was yet another great day.

We descended into the first subway station we found and consulted a map to figure out how to best get there. I say consulted, but the more accurate description would be more along the lines of “stared in wonderment at all the myriad colored lines crisscrossing the city.” We finally figured out how to read the thing, discovered that particular station didn’t have the trains we needed, and we headed back above ground.

We walked a couple blocks to the appropriate station, purchased our 7-day passes, and continued to the platform. We guessed at a train, not really knowing if we needed to go “uptown” or “downtown,” as we had no idea what those meant in relation to ourselves, but fortunately, we guessed correctly, and in short order, we found ourselves in front of the museum, just across the street from Central Park.

We entered the museum, and were immediately met by two equally terrifying things: Three dinosaur skeletons, toothy grins, erected there just before us, and a school field trip. Younglings, bedecked in coats and construction paper signs prominently displaying their names and the school what owned them. I briefly prayed the dino-fossils would come alive and complete the nightmare, but they just stood there, grinning, earless and eyeless to my plight.

In any case, the museum was interesting. We walked all over, laughing and giggling at the human history sections, largely because we’re still seven-years-old, and find boobies and penises scandalously funny still.

After that, we headed over into Central Park where we deigned to find somewhere to dine, but the park is huge, and we had minimal luck, so we went back to the street vendor in front of the museum and had a couple “dogs” (to use the vernacular). These were scrumptious.

We then hopped back on the subway, headed downtown to try our hand at an equally (if not more-so) phallic museum. (Yes, that pun was intended, thank you.) Downtown, on fifth avenue is a smallish, discrete building bearing the name “Museum of Sex.” We heard about it on the website of the museum/attraction passes we bought, and it sounded interesting enough. The first floor was an exhibit on the sexual habits of animals. To our surprise, there’s rather a lot of homosexuality, masturbation, and all sorts of other sexual acts of the animal world. Who knew there was documented homosexuality in koalas?

In any case, this was where the interesting part of the museum ended. The second floor of the museum was pretty much gratuitous pornography, although the exhibit on the history of sex toys was sort of interesting, too. (Remember the old egg beaters? With the whisk on the end of a device that you turned with a crank? Well, they pretty much used the same idea for period vibrators)

After that, we’d walked up and down countless flights of stairs, across countless city blocks, and through countless museum rooms, and we were tired, so we hopped a cab back to the hotel, where we rested up a while before heading out to see a bit of the night-life in Times Square. We walked all over, and took some time to stop in at the public ice rink at Rockefeller Plaza. The time we took was not so much to quit walking as it was to watch people bust it on the ice. Good times. We were pretty tired, so we grabbed some dinner and turned in. It was a pretty good day, I’d say.