Marathon

So after three days of more or less excess, fun and general slothfulness, Cindy, Brother Dan, Sister-in-Law Jill and I rolled on down to catch the Chicago Marathon on Sunday morning. Unbearably cold and damp outside, with temps in the low 40s, we enjoyed the irony of grabbing breakfast at the Addison street McDonalds before heading over to watch what is arguably one of the supreme accomplishments of athleticism and sport.

We grabbed spot on the corner of Addison and Pine Grove near the 7 1/2 mile mark to wait for our friends -- Phil Sheridan and Bart Goldberg -- to make an appearance. Phil (top photo) was running his third marathon of the year, well on his way towards running one marathon in every state in the union, and was cruising along with the 3:10 pace crowd. Bart (bottom photo), in his first marathon, running in support of AIDS research, came by some time later, back with the 6:00 crowd, still happy and motivated and wanting to stop for a photo with Cindy. So many people dressed in costume and simply had fun with the challenge that even Brother Dan and I got to talking about how we could get in on the fun in years to come. We discussed all manner of costuming we could bring to bear on the "cheering from the sidelines" approach. "Or we could just run it one year" Dan said.

Run it we could. Now, some of our readers will recall I've been down this road before, with pretty much no results. But it seems to me there's something noteworthy in the challenge, and it bears further thought.

At the very least, it occurs to me that the marathon is a nice metaphor for life. I'm hardly unique in thinking that, I know, and recognize that it's well-traveled ground to consider a marathon in this way.

But I think that for the longest time, I've been looking at life as a series of sprints, delivering intense bursts of energy and expecting nearly immediate results, and I'm not sure that's gotten me all that far down the track. So I find myself wondering this morning how it would be if I took more of a marathoner's view of the road ahead, recognizing that our dream of a magical and perfect life here in Chicago isn't going to accomplished in one swift movement. Hell, I find myself wondering how life would be different overall if I'd thought of this sooner.

Still, it seems as good a way to approach life as any other. Let's just hope there's not a nasty surprise at the finish line.

In Praise of Reesie

We spend a fair amount of time on this site covering Aidan's adventures and accomplishments as she's quite the active and entertaining lass, but it is in no way to suggest that Reese is any less charming or amazing, as I'm sure she'll tell you, just as soon as she gets the hang of "talking." Reesie has been a delightful source of entertainment and fun, and we love her so. She's exceptionally tall and athletic, with a natural quickness that I think has developed as a means to evade her sister. She's quite smart, and though she can't answer us with words, she's hip to all of our commands. She loves to perform her little Reesie jokes, which she laughs at deeply, throwing her head back with a big "ha ha ha haaaaa!" She loves her sister to death, following her every move at times. She likes to hand me the remote control and give Cindy the telephone. And she's really good at saying "No!"

There was a time where we as parents thought "How could we ever find room in our hearts for two babies?" Of course now, I can imagine our life no other way than with our Reese. She completes our family, and we love her so.

Lion Around Town

Our costume-based fun in Chicago continues, this weekend featuring Aidan the Lion's visit to Chicago's annual Halloween parade. With visiting brother Dan and his family in tow, as well Granny Lynne, we had a lovely, if slow-moving, morning at the parade (we'd been celebrating Cindy's birthday the night before in Lincoln Sqaure at the Huttenbar the night before). The city basically closed down State Street for half an hour and let anyone who was dressed in a costume roam the streets. Here Aidan and a local chapter of the Superfriends watch and enjoy the spectacle:
After the parade, we went strolling around the Loop, first to the "Halloween Village" set up in Daley Plaza, then back towards the car, which we'd left in the lot under Millenium Park. Reesie enjoyed a ride in the stroller, but Aidan rode on my shoulders the whole way, beaming broadly at passer-by, roaring little roars from time to time. Nearly everyone we passed looked up at her and smiled. Some folks stopped to comment, a few tourists snapped a picture. Granny Lynne says it's because she looked so cute, her little lion-tail hanging down my back. I just think it's because most adults, no matter how cynical or jaded, know or remember the special magic of being a little kid in a fun costume at Halloween, riding around town safe and happy and warm on Daddy's shoulders.

Roaaararrrrrrrrr!!!!!

Record Upholder

So a popular Anderson family story tells how Grandpa Harry used to sit in the basement at 1219 with little Cindy on his knee, talking and telling stories, and he would record their conversations. On one of these recordings, Harry breaks wind and tries to cover it, but 4-year old Cindy is too crafty for him and calls him on it. It makes for good listening.

I thought of these old recording sessions as this morning I sat in the basement at 1219 with little Aidan on my knee, talking about various things she liked. I recorded the conversation on the computer for fun, and then through a little bit of goofing around with the software on the Mac, came up with this recording. (You man need to give it a minute to load on some machines, and if you can't hear it, try clicking here as well.)

I'd like to think, had Harry had the technology, he might have gone a similar route.

Mamma Mia

During the short course of my relationship with my iPod, I have found it to be, at times, eerily prescient in selecting the right songs for the right moment, shuffling the music I own to form a veritible soundtrack to accompany life events, with frequent serendipitous timing of tracks. What then, to make, of this afternoon's spin of the iPod wheel?

I should back up momentarily. Our Jeep totally in the crapper, in the shop now two weeks, with no end in site, our rental car burning money at an absurd daily rate, I flew to Minneapolis this morning to retrieve our Jetta. After a stop out at the house to get the car and collect a few additional items, I bid our Golden Valley home adieu once more and headed out of town.

As I drove, it occurred to me that perhaps this drive would be my last major car trip from Minnesota to parts unknown while still an official resident of Minnesota. I cast my mind back to all of the wonderful people we've known in Minnesota, the years of memories, the fun times. I cast my eyes to the skyline, first of downtown Minneapolis, then to St. Paul ahead. It was a Moment with a capital "M." Solemn. Thoughtful. Stirring. Deeply moving.

And what did the iPod give me for accompaniment to this moment?

ABBA's Mamma Mia.

Perhaps oddly appropriate, I don't know. There wasn't much time for reflection, as the whole moment dissolved into that one scene from "Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle" with the Wilson Phillips song.

And yet, the iPod redeemed itself, offering "Eastbound and Down" as the immediate follow-up. Life is like that sometimes. You've got to dodge and you've got to duck 'em, but you've got to keep that diesel truckin.'

Watch ol' Bandit run.

Pretty As a Princess

Last night, Saturday the 14th, the local community center was transformed into an enchanted castle, and all the fair maidens of the kingdom were invited to attend a Royal Ball. Naturally, I obliged our very lovely Princess Aidan, who was resplendent in her Ariel princess gown. Here we are, just before the ball:



Also on hand were Prince Charming and Cinderella, who, once they found each other in the crowd of nearly 60 Princesses (through the careful matching of dainty foot to delicate shoe) danced the night away, not only with each other, but with all the Princesses of the land:



Finally, after much dancing, and cookies, and punch (of which Aidan enjoyed some 7 or 8 sugary cups), it was time for more dancing and running around in some very ladylike ways, and a few unladylike ones to boot -- who knew Princesses could belly slide across the slick dancefloor with such ease? Still, there was still time for photo ops, such as Aidan and her pal from ballet class:



And although I wasn't Prince Charming, and though I was not unique in wearing a suit (all the Daddies dressed up, some going so far as to wear tuxes and buy corsages for their Princesses), it was a really wonderful night with our gal, and I'll always treasure the fact that instead of wanting to hoot and hollar for Cinderella's attention, Aidan wanted nothing more than to dance with here Daddy. "C'mon daddy!" she shouted. "Let's dance!" So we did, and I enjoyed it, and didn't once think about that "big dance" that waits for us out there, many years in the future. For now, the shoe fits.

Snowing Again (and Other News)

So I was in one of the small phone conference rooms here at the office this morning, looking out at the sun playing across Lake Michigan, and reached up to close the blinds slightly, the glare messing with the computer screen. Blinds adjusted, I looked back out at the lake and thought, "Hey, snowing again!" I then puzzled at the strange shape of the flakes, only to realize it was just chunks and chunks of dusk falling off the blinds.

In other news, Aidan is getting excited about the big "Princess Ball" this weekend at the community center. All of the girls "in the kingdom" have been invited (once Mommy paid and signed us up) to "meet the Prince" and "see Cinderella" at the Ball on Saturday night. So, we've been fretting over what ball gown to wear (we've settled on a flowy pink number like Ariel wore in "The Little Mermaid.") Aidan has already told me that she believes I will look very handsome at the Ball.

Rolling over to Target last night, Reesie and Aidan played a new variation on the "No No No" game, in that now Reese asked the questions. "Bleek lurp blopp?" she'd ask. "Bleek lurp blopp!" Aidan and I would affirm. "Gobb gopp plllllppptttt?" asked Reese. "Yes, gobb gopp pllllptttt!!!" we'd shout. Good times.

I couldn't see if Reesie was doing it in the car, but now when she laughs, really laughing hard, she'll dramatically throw her head back and close her eyes and laugh like some maniacal movie villain. She also does a great job singing along to the Spongbob Squarepants song, hitting the chorus with a mighty "Spa nah sca paah, spa nah sca paah, Spa nah, Sca, Paaaaaaaahhhh!" It's good stuff, people.

Well, It's Snowing

Angry little flakes, snarling around the banking buildings below. The 12th seems earlier than normal for the snow, even for Chicago and the lake. On the upside, we'll never again know winters so cold as those in Minnesota. At nice, the ice weasels come.

Winners and Losers

Spent the afternoon yesterday with my ol' pal Hoffelt. First up, went and caught a showing of the latest 'Jackass' movie. As one of the cast members says, following the consumption of a type of 'horse fluid,' echoing my own sentiments: "I feel ashamed of myself, I really do."

That evening Hoffelt rolled out his semi-annual poker game, and after an evening of battling, and employing my unique style of card playing, which I like to call "looking lost and possibly retarded," I came out the winner. Tidy bit of cash, too.

And to follow up on the Homecoming news from Park Ridge, Maine South (Go Hawks!) beat New Trier (boo!) 47 to 40. Go team.

Homecoming

While returning from the neighborhood Krispy Kreme location this morning, Aidan and I noticed the big sign by the High School proclaiming "Homecoming Parade 10am!" Aidan was intrigued, never having seen a parade of any nature, and so being as casual as a man can be who is still wearing only his pajamas, his face coated with donut glazing, I pulled the rental car into the parking lot and made inquiries of some of the teen girls working the lot as to the route. They gave us a map and some very nice buttons which read "Homecoming Odyssey 2006!" and hurrying home to collect Reese and Cindy, as well as to put on some pants, we made our way to a little spot not too far from the High School at the start of the route.

Fall comes to Park Ridge, dressed like a teenager in a bird costume.

The great thing about being near the start of the route AND being the only little kids on that stretch of the street was the ridiculous amount of candy tossed our way from the passing teens in their parents' cars covered in chinze and hasitly painted butcher paper to look like little floats. And Aidan figured out the trick of it quick too -- the more she shouted "Go Park Ridge! Go Hawks!" or "Go Maine South!!!" the more candy they'd throw her way.

In just 14 or 15 years, I'm sure this will be Aidan and/or Reese, if they're not riding the cheerleader truck or the Homecoming Queen Camaro.

It was as beautiful a fall morning as I could remember, and it got me waxing nostalgic to other autumnal parades I have known in my youth. How many of just this exact sort of parade did I find myself hauled from one end of Wisconsin to the other to participate in, first as a marching saxaphonist, and later as dashing drum major in an all white get'up with some sort of half-assed cowboy hat and a giant red feather on top? Did I ever look this happy:Don't worry, band kids! It'll all turn out okay in the end!

Then, what we should have done, was go right on over to the high school for an afternoon of football, but came home instead to take Aidan to the park. Wound up at a football game anyway -- the local "pee wee football and angry father shouting league" was having a game when we got to the Park. "Anthony!!! Anthony!!! Stick that guy!!! Get him! Get him! Get him!!!" a man presumably Anthony's father yelled to the oblivious 5 year old on wobbly legs furiously rushing in the opposite direction of the play. But we watched the spectacle for a bit anyway, enjoying a hot dog and cokes from a rather elaborate vendor set up for such a small sporting event.

Work Begins

Almost forgot to document a fairly important milestone here at 1219: work began this week on the rehabilitation of the property! The concrete slab patio (which was eventually discovered to be two concrete patios, one atop the other, 20 inches thick of concrete) that had slowly been sinking into the earth, causing rain water to pool and funnel that water right down into the basement, was removed. The first of many projects to come.

Ladies and gents, raise your gin and tonic to honor the passing of what undoubtedly once was the site of many occasions for other gin and tonics. Fare thee well, giant concrete slab.

No No No No No

One of the Lawrence sisters' current gags goes something like this:

Aidan: (To Reese) "Do you like milk?"
Reese: "No." (Laughs)
Aidan: "Do you like water?"
Reese: (slight pause) "No."
Aidan: "Do you like stars?"
Reese: "No."

And on and on this goes. Tonite, on the way home from Moretti's in Elmwood Park, which is fast becoming our "Waterfront" or "Firehouse" here in the Chicagoland area (Don't know what the hell I'm talking about there? Call my mom, she'll tell you all about the restaurants the folks used to take us to as kids...), Aidan and Reesie played the "No No No" game for nearly 15 minutes.

That was followed by the Cindy-inspired "Fluuuuuuoooooooo shot!" game, wherein you say "Flu" like you're some spooky ghost, in recognition of the fact the girls are getting their seasonal flu shots on a date near Halloween. So there we'll be, all saying "Fluuuuuuoooooo-oooo-oooooooo shot!" and then we'll pause and Reesie will say "Eeeeyeewwwooooo! Ockht!!!" It's good stuff.

In other news, working my way through James Ellroy's L.A. Quartet of books. Good stuff as well, though it's surprising the amount of steak I'm able to put away at dinner, just moments after reading one of Ellroy's vivid descriptions of a crime scene during the trip home on the el.

I take the El everyday, which is great, and the girls have relied on our Jeep. As mentioned earlier, there was some mishigosh with the Jeep earlier in the week, and it's been in the shop every day since. We first took it to Walton Chrysler Jeep in Skokie, where they kept it for 3 days and returned it to us in worse shape than when we brought it in. Let's be clear, everyone that works there sucks. That dealership sucks. And they can all burn in hell for all we care. We managed to get the Jeep to another dealer, which was much cleaner and nicer and the guys that worked there had fewer pussy sores, only to learn today that because the problem with the Jeep is covered by warranty, and that the shitbirds at Walton had started the warranty repairs, DaimlerChrysler demands that the repairs have to be seen through to the end by those morons. So the guys at the Good Dealership had to tow the Jeep up to f'ing Skokie to the morons there to finish repairs. God only knows if we'll get a working vehicle back.

Still, it's a beautiful night here in Park Ridge, the moon is shining big and bright, and because I haven't filled my life with enough pointless celebrity gossip trash this week, I'm now going to retire to catch "Best Week Ever."

Truth be told, it's been pretty a-ok.

Dinosaurs Kill Me

I was mad about something tonite, I really was. Like, fifteen minutes ago, I was exceptionally upset about something fairly troubling to our life here in Chicago. Give me a minute, it'll come to me...

It may have been that the basement here is flooding again (another big storm here tonite, and the water just gushing in between the drywall and the concrete). Or it may have been that the Jeep is having transmission problems that weren't there before Granny took the truck out for a spin (she assures us it's not her fault). I'm pretty sure it's one of those two things.

It probably was the flooding. And I think I was going to look up an image of Noah's Ark and make a little joke with a photo attached about the flooding. And all was well with that stupid little plan until I came across an illustration of a dinosaur standing next to Noah's Ark, which naturally led into a site about Dinosaurs and The Bible.

And now, twenty minutes later, I'm sitting here so damn mad about all of the online "information" concerning how dinosaurs roamed the Biblical Garden of Eden and how the earth is only 6000 years old and how scientists are stupid and prone to making mistakes. I'm sure the sort of parents that deeply believe this stuff look at scientific information with the same skepticism and wonder how can parents that love their children teach them this stuff.

But honestly, how can parents that love their children present the world to their children in this way? It's ridiculous! Even if you're of a particular Christian world view, I would think that the God you Love has created a world of richness and diversity that has room for intelligent and rational thought and not this complete nonsense.

Sigh. Calming now.

At least we didn't fake the moon landing.

SCMODS

Early in what remains one of my all time favorite movies, The Blues Brothers, brothers Jake and Elwood find themselves driving through a residential neighborhood, discussing the fate of their band. They inadvertantly run a red light, are stopped by the police, and when asked to step out of the vehicle, Elwood floors it and a desperate chase ensues. Stirring stuff.

So yesterday, we're standing out on the front lawn, discussing all things Park Ridge with the neighbors across the way, Lori and John, and Lori mentions being a life-long resident of Park Ridge, and that her childhood home was featured in The Blues Brothers. Turns out the entire sequence described above was filmed in Park Ridge, and upon further review this afternoon, I'll be damned if that isn't delightfully true. As the sequence begins, the Nelson Funeral home is seen across from the Shell station where we frequently fill the ol' Jeep with gas, right near South Park where the girls play. There is a large sequence of cars looping around each other at the intersection of Devon, Talcott and whatever the other street there is, where we are quite frequently. Good stuff.

Confirming all of this today through the power of the internets, came across a site that lists all of the filming locations in Chicago, including the famous shopping mall chase. That mall, by the way, appears to be still there and just waiting for a visit.