Are You There Rich? It's Me, Mortality.

I try not to think about death too much.

I particularly try not to think about my own death. The idea of my own death frightens me. I'm not really afraid of the process of death itself, or any pain that might be associated with my death. I'm just afraid of what will happen after I die, or more accurately, what won't happen.

There was a time when I could comfort myself with the thought of an afterlife, but I think that time has passed. I still consider myself to be religious, and I very much want there to be a God and an afterlife, but I'm also a pessimist. I hope there's a God, and I hope's there a place for me in Heaven some day, but I'd be less than honest if I told you I was counting on it. I've discussed my faith in this space before, so if you've been reading this blog you kinda already know that my faith has been on shaky ground for a while now. I think one of the main reasons I've held on to my faith as long as I have ( and still have lots of HOPE that there is an afterlife ), is that I just can't imagine not existing. The idea of not existing really frightens me, so I spend most of my life just pretending that I'll always be around. However, every once in a while something happens that reminds me that I'm not immortal.

This time I was reminded by my glasses, or rather my need to get stronger glasses. I'm getting more far-sighted each year. I'm writing this blog post without my glasses on, but I don't think I'll be able to use a computer without glasses for much longer. I pretty much do all my newspaper and magazine reading with glasses on these days ( I got new reading glasses a week ago, and they make a HUGE difference ), and I'm probably going to start using glasses to write code at work ( I use a relatively large font at work, but I'm beginning to notice some eye strain. ).

So, my new glasses are great and all ( It's really nice to be able to see stuff without straining my eyes ), but they are also a reminder that there are some parts of the aging process I really can't control.

I think I've been fooling myself regarding the aging process for a while now. I've been blessed with a naturally youthful appearance, and I've been luck enough to avoid most of the typical aches and pains of middle age. I've got all my hair, barely any wrinkles, and I work out enough that I'm in far better shape than most 18-year-olds ( Yes, I have balky knees, but my knees have been giving me trouble since I've been 16. Thus, while my occasional knee problems are annoying, they don't really make me feel old ). However, there's really nothing I can do about they fact that my eyeballs are elongating. There's nothing I can do about the fact that whatever tissues were holding my eyes in their original shape are now slowly breaking down. Whether I like it or not, and whether I choose to accept it or not, my body is aging. I've definitely aging, and aging only leads to one thing. The Reaper may be pretty far down the road, but he's definitely coming for me.

OK, I'm not even going to try and gracefully segue from the topic above to a new topic. I'm just going to stop. If I keep writing about *that* topic, I'm going to drive myself nuts. I'll just finish by saying that I love life, and I love my life.

Carpe diem, folks. Carpe diem.

Rich

The Sequence

I gave my 6-old son Michael a sequence problem today. I asked him to give me the next number in the sequence ...

1, 4, 9, 16, 25, ...

He didn't have any problem coming up with the solution to that one. Before I could ask him a more challenging question, he decided to give me a sequence problem of his own. Michael asked me to give him the next number in the sequence below:

8, 7, 9, 5, 13, -3, 29, ...

I didn't find the question above too hard, but I challenge anyone else to find a 6-year old who can solve the puzzle above, much less design a puzzle like the one above.

Rich

Hoop it up

A few happy basketball thoughts while I try to get over the fact that LeBron isn't coming to the New York Knicks ...

About a month ago, we decided to get the boys a basketball hoop. Michael had already taken two basketball classes at the local YMCA, and we figured he'd enjoy a hoop of his own ( Of course, Peter's going to enjoy it too, but he'll probably needs about another year of maturity before he'll be ready to learn how to dribble and shoot. At this point, he gets a little frustrated when he tries to play, and doesn't really take instruction well. ).

Of course, getting the hoop, and getting the hoop ready were two different things. I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the most mechanical person in the world ( Well, I do understand all the mechanical principals ( After all, I do have a Master's Degree in Mechanical Engineering ), but I'm really all thumbs when it comes to working with tools. ), so putting this thing together took the bulk of a Saturday ( It also didn't help that the parts in the box didn't match the list of parts in the instructions. I eventually figured out that a 5/16 inch nylock nut was missing from the set of nuts in the box ( There was some completely random nut of a different size in its place. ) After doing some research into what a nylock nut actually was and figuring out where I could get one, I went out and bought the nylock nut the same day.). However, getting that hoop together was definitely worth the effort. Michael was SOOOOO excited when he saw the hoop. He immediately wanted to head outside to play. He stayed outside until he hit 100 shots ( He kept a running count as he hit each shot. ).



Here's Michael with the hoop on the day I put it together ( Note: I set it up at the minimum height of 7.5 feet. It's important to keep the height of the hoop low when kids are first learning. Not only does it help their confidence, but it gets them into the habit of shooting with proper form rather than heaving the ball a basket that's way too high for them to reach easily. Speaking of proper form, take a look at the photo below. ).


I know it's a little bit blurry, but just take a look at that perfect form. Gee, it looks like the guy who taught that kid how to shoot really knew what he was doing.

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( Pausing to pat myself on the back repeatedly. )

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You can't imagine how gratifying it is to watch your kid enjoy a hoop, a bike, or any other kind of "some assembly required" toy, knowing that your own sweat and effort went into putting the toy together.

It all felt even more gratifying at 6 AM the next morning. Michael crawled into bed next to me and asked when we could go outside to shoot baskets. He's been shooting hoops at every opportunity ever since.

About a week ago, I thought it would be good for his basketball development to play a game with me. Of course, we wouldn't play a real competitive game, but I though it might be good practice for him took take shots and play defense with a least a tiny bit of pressure. So, I had to set up the rules of the game in such a way that we could "compete" to the extent that it wouldn't be completely obvious to him that I was throwing the game ( BTW, whenever either of my sons gets good enough to legitimately beat me at something, it will be one of the proudest days of my life. ). So, I set up the games with the following rules:

1) I couldn't steal the ball from him.

2) I couldn't raise my hands above my shoulders to block any of his shots.

3) I had to make all my baskets on the bounce. Any "shot" of mine wouldn't count unless it hit

the ground first - thus Micheal had ample opportunity to block all my shots.

4) All my shots would be worth 2 points, but Michael could get 3 points for a shot if he was shooting from more than about 5 feet away.

Making baskets on one bounce was actually a little harder than I thought it would be ( It's been more than 20 years since I used to win games of HORSE shooting shots like that. ), so we actually played to a legitimate 0-0 tie for a while. However, I eventually got the hang of hitting bounce shots again, and I found that he really couldn't get his shots off quick enough to keep me from blocking them or severely altering them, even if I didn't raise my hands above my shoulders. So, at that point, I had to engage in the subtle art of throwing a game to your kid without letting your kid know you are throwing the game.

It's not quite as easy as you might think. I imagine the techniques I used were similar to the techniques used by crooked college basketball players involved in the point shaving scandals of the 1950's. You need to miss shots by just a *little* bit, and be just a half-step slow on defense. You need to do just enough to lose the game.

I tried to make the game as close and dramatic as I could. We were playing to 15, and I got the game to the point where I had a 14-12 lead and the ball. I dribbled the ball a few times and then directed a bounce shot directly into Michael chest as he stood just outside the 3 point line. As he turned to take his shoot, I moved towards him and swiped my hand towards his shooting hand a split second after he let his shot go. I then looked up a prayed the shot would go in ...

SWISH! ( Well actually, more like THUNK, BOUNCE, THUNK, BOUNCE, SWISH, but the important thing is that the shot did go in. ).

Michael 15, Daddy 14. Game over, smiles all around. I gave him a high-five and a hug and we headed inside to have some ice cream.

It's nice to be a Dad! :)

Rich

Coming Attractions

Do I really need to write a blog post in June?

I guess so - I'd hate to have the first blank month in my blog archives.

It's just that thing have been really busy at work. I have't had nearly the time I'd like to have with my kids on the weekdays, and I even found myself working about 20 hours from home on a recent weekend. So yeah - free time has been short, and when I decide how to allocate the free time I have, I'm sorry to say that my wonderful blog readers lose out to my wife and kids.

Anyway, things should be better at work in a few weeks or so, and when that time comes, I intend to start writing again. Heck, I've even mused about YouTube videos, though I'm not even sure I remember exactly how to work iMovie anymore.

BTW, YouTube came to mind, because a month or so ago a long-time YouTube subscriber of mine sent me a message asking for some advice about life. I don't know if that person is reading this, but I just can't tell you how nice that made me feel. To think that somebody from YouTube land actually thought enough of me to seek out my advice ( after I pretty much abandoned YouTube ) - well it really made me feel like my videos made a little bit of a difference. It made me feel like I wasn't completely wasting my time by making all those videos. I honestly don't know when I'll find the time and energy again to made videos, but the message that subscriber sent certainly makes it more likely that I'll make videos again.

Anyway, enough with the YouTube tangent, I really started this post to talk about my blog a bit ( You know what? I just went back and changed the word "talk" in the previous sentence to "write", but then I changed it back to "talk", because I really do feel like I'm talking to you folks out there when I write these things. ). I just wanted to give you an idea of the things I might be writing about when I find time to write. In no particular order, I hope to write the following posts soon:

1) It's about time I finished up with my story about "What I did on my Spring Vacation". After all, it's already Summer now, and while nobody probably even cares at this point, I probably should finish off that series of posts.

2) Speaking of things that are overdue, I'd really like to post the photos from my California vacation last year. I actually picked out the photos I wanted to post several months ago and put them in a special folder, but I haven't found the time to post them to facebook will all the appropriate annotations. When I do find time, I'll let you know on this blog.

3) Neil's post on LOST got me thinking about TV shows I really liked that never reached a satisfying conclusion. BTW, I never watched LOST. I tend to have bad luck with TV shows. When I get interested in TV shows with interesting plots that promise to reveal lots of mysteries over a series of years, those shows tend to get canceled in one year.

( Editor's ( that would be me ) Note: I had to stop writing for a moment because a HUGE beetle just tried to crawl up my shorts as I wrote this post. I smashed it rather quickly because I though it my might be a roach ( and I wouldn't want a roach to get away and reproduce ), but when I took a good look at it ( I checked Google images for something that matched its shape ), I came to the conclusion that it was probably a violet ground beetle - that is until I read that violet ground beetles are primarily found in the UK. In any case, it wasn't a roach or a termite, so at least I've got that going for me. BTW, I ate a few bugs today at my company Summer party ( They served bugs as a special delicacy - I'm wearing an official "Eat a Bug Club" sticker on my T-shirt right now ). I wonder if my little beetle friend was trying to get revenge for his brethren. )

4) A Different Kind of Shallow - I'm just going to give you the title of this post, and let you guess about what it might ultimately be about.

Rich

What you talkin' 'bout?

R.I.P. :(

It aint easy

Last Sunday, in the course of a few hours, I experienced the highs and lows of dealing with my son Michael's unique brain.

I've mentioned this before, but in case you didn't know, Michael has been diagnosed with being on the Autism spectrum. It's not a severe case of Autism. He's very high functioning, so a lot of people might not even notice, but as a parent, you can't help but notice - and worry about it.

As a parent, you can't help but notice how different his brain works. Yes, different - definitely different. A few months ago, I watched an HBO movie about an Autistic woman named Temple Grandin. Throughout the movie, Temple's mother would remind her that she was "different - not less". That's certainly true of Michael - his brain is "different" in many wonderful ways, but I also know that we live in a world where people who are "different" are not always accepted. There are times when Michael really amazes me, but there are also times when I'm terrified about the prospect of him getting by in the world. He's going to have trouble adjusting to certain situations. He's inevitably going to be teased. There are inevitably going to be moments when he winds up crying. As a parent, thinking about those moments hurts me to the core.

Anyway, back to Sunday and Michael "unique" brain.

I don't want to perpetuate the "Rain Man"/savant stereotype about Autistic people too much, but those of you who have heard me talk ( brag ) about Michael already know that he has a remarkable analytic mind. All modesty aside, I always considered myself to be really good at Math/Physics, but Michael has natural ability way beyond anything I've ever possessed. While we were playing in the backyard on Sunday, I noticed he was picking up balls of different sizes and dropping them side-by-side ( basically, doing the Galileo Leaning Tower of Pisa Experiment ). I walked over, and Michael asked me a question about potential energy. Given his curiosity, I decided that the time was right to introduce Michael to the concepts of kinetic energy and conservation of energy.

So, I go ahead and explain potential energy, kinetic energy, and conservation of energy ( I tell him all about mgh and one-half m v-squared ), and I illustrate the concept with an example.

I tell Michael that a roller coaster with a 100 foot drop reaches a speed of 50 miles-per-hour ( mph ) at the bottom of the hill ( BTW, the way, I'm ignoring all friction and air resistance in these examples. You may think think that this is over-simplifying things a bit, - but hey - he's only 6 years old! ). I tell him that in order for the roller coaster to go 100 mph at the bottom of the hill, the hill would need to be 400 feet high. I explain that this is because a roller coaster car going 100 mph has 4 times the kinetic energy as a roller coaster car going 50 mph ( because of the velocity-squared relationship ), and that because all the kinetic energy would have been converted from the potential energy at the top of the hill ( remember - no friction ), the hill would need to be 4 times as high to produce the speed of 100 mph ( because potential energy is directly proportional to height ).

Of course, you would think this would be an awful lot to digest for a 6-year old. To be honest, I really didn't think he would understand all of this on the first try, so I gave him a problem to gauge how well he understood the concept. I asked Michael how fast the roller coaster would go at the bottom of the hill if the hill was 900 feet high.

About 5 seconds later Michael told me the roller coaster would be going 150 mph at the bottom of the hill.

I was stunned, and asked him to explain how he arrived at the answer, just to make sure it wasn't just a lucky guess.

Michael quickly explained that 900 is 9 times as great at 100, the square root of 9 is 3, and that 3 times 50 is 150.

Wow, you can't imagine how proud I was at that moment.

It's nice to have those proud moments, because it makes some of the other moments a little bit easier to take.

A few hours later, we were in the house, and Michael was playing a video game on the laptop. At some point the game crashed, and a few seconds later, so did Michael's brain.

I don't think "tantrum" is a strong enough word for what happened. I know tantrums. I threw my share of tantrums as a child ( like the BATMAN tantrum - see item 4 in this post ), and watched my younger brother throw lots of tantrums. What happened with Michael on Sunday, was not simply a tantrum - it was a scary example of what can sometimes be so "unique" about his brain.

The best word I can think of to describe it is "irrational". Of course, 6-year olds can be irrational in general, but Michael's behavior would have been considered irrational for a 3-year-old.

...

I've been sitting here for a few minutes trying to decide how to describe this, but in all honesty, words escape me right now. It kinda reminded me of one of the night terrors Michael used to have when he was younger. There was a lot of physical thrashing involved, there was really nothing we could do or say to console him, and he most definitely did not want to be touched. It's rather heartbreaking when you want to hug your crying child, and he responds by kicking at you and swinging his arm at you. When he has tantrums like this, we actually get quite afraid that he might hurt himself. Once when he was 3, he had a tantrum like this, and intentionally ran headfirst into a wall. I know it was intentional, because about 30 seconds after he did it the first time, he wrenched himself out of my arms and ran headfirst into the wall again before I could stop him ( After that, I just laid my whole body down on top of him to keep him in one spot. He spent the next 30 minutes struggling to get out from under me, until he finally exhausted himself and fell asleep. ).

Thankfully, his tantrum on Sunday wasn't that bad ( he's come a long way in the last 3 years ), but it still scared me a lot nonetheless. Not only did he not want to be touched, but he wanted to get "far far away" ( his words ) from us. The next thing we knew, he was running out of the front door of our house. I ran out after him, terrified about what he might do to himself. He had stopped about 10 feet from our front steps. I walked towards him slowly, hoping to grab him before he started to run away again, He backpedaled into driveway, and next thing I knew, he started sprinting down the driveway towards the street. I sprinted as fast as my balky knee would take me ( the knee is still all "spongy" from my personal-best run ) and screamed out "STOP! DON'T YOU DARE RUN INTO THE STREET!" so loud that I think the entire neighborhood heard me. Michael did stop, and before he could move again, I grabbed him. Of course, he didn't want to go down without a fight, but despite his kicking and screaming, I soon had him back in the house. He still insisted on being "far way" from us, but we convinced him that his room far enough away. Thankfully, he managed to calm himself down, and 30 minutes later he was back to being the happy boy that he usually is.

So, yeah - it an't easy. I love my boys, but it's never easy

Rich

Bad, Bad Leroy Brown

Last Friday, while checking news articles during lunch, I noticed a story about Wrigley Field. The content of that article really isn't relevant to this post, but what is relevant is that the article got me thinking about the North Side of Chicago ( where Wrigley Field is located - I took a road trip there 11 years ago ). Thinking about the North Side of Chicago got me thinking about the South Side of Chicago, which immediately made the song "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown" start playing in my head ( The song starts with the lines "The South Side of Chicago / is the baddest part of town. / And if you go there / you better just beware / of a man named Leroy Brown. " ).



"Bad, Bad Leroy Brown" is one of those songs the will always be ingrained in my memory, because I probably listened to it about 100 times in the backseat of the family car when I was a young child. My parents were both born in the 40's ( Dad in 1943 and Mom in 1947 ), and as such, they were among the first generation of parents to really pass Rock n' Roll music down to their kids. My parents pretty much always had the radio on when they drove, and it was always playing the most popular music of the day ( Actually, whether my Mom or Dad was driving, I think my Mom pretty much controlled the radio. Back in the 60's my Mom was one of these screaming teenage girls you would see at Beatles concerts ( She was at one of the Beatles groundbreaking Shea Stadium concerts ) ).

I think there's something special about the memories we develop as a young child. We see the world differently as children, so reflecting on those memories gives us a perspective other memories can't. I think that music makes special memories too. I think almost all of us have our own personal "soundtrack of our lives". We all have memories of special songs which we associate with key moments in our lives. So, with that in mind, I think there's something extra special about the music we associate with our childhood. After thinking a bit about "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown", I started to reflect upon the songs that really caught my attention when I would listen to music in the back seat of my parents' car in the early to mid 70's. I quickly jotted down the first 10 songs that came to my mind. Those 10 songs ( in no particular order ) are ...

American Pie

I said this list would be in no particular order, but I decided to list Don McLean's "America Pie" first, because when I was three years old, I considered this to be my favorite song. I think there's something about the lyrical richness of this song that would enchant just about any small child. Listening to this song was almost like listening to a bedtime story. It was a story I really enjoyed, despite that fact that I had no idea what a levee was, and the song always made me wonder how somebody could possibly drink rye bread.



Saturday in the Park

This may be the best feel-good song of all time. The lyrics by themselves are really feel-good, the music puts you in a good mood as soon as your hear the first few piano notes, and I dare anyone not to crack a smile when the first brass notes play at the 18 second mark. This song ( understandably enough ) seems to be a staple these days at Saturday afternoon baseball games.



Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head

This is just a great song by one of the greatest American songwriters ( Burt Bacharach ), though I must admit that it was the lyrics ( by Hal David, Bacharach's long-time collaborator - Burt did the music and Hal did the lyrics ) that enchanted me as a child, despite that fact that a some of them don't make a lot of sense when you really think about it. I mean - I've always loved the image of the "guy whose feet are too big for his bed", but considering that I've never heard that expression in any other context ( Has anyone actually ever complained that his/her feet were too big for a bed? ), I don't think it makes any sense to say "Raindrops keep fallin' on my head. And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed". That being said, those lines still stick in my head all these years later, so I guess it's a great lyric.



Let Em In

I no longer consider this to be my favorite post-Beatles McCartney tune, ( I think I like both "Band on the Run" and "Maybe I'm Amazed", better than this one ), but back when I was a kid it was my favorite. There's something really kid-friendly about the repetitive lyrics, especially the parts where Paul calls out the names of all the relatives.



Cats in the Cradle

This is another one I loved as a kid because of the way it tells a story. Of course, now that I'm an adult with sons of my own, I find this song especially poignant today. This one can still choke me up a bit. This song really is to music what "Field of Dreams" is to movies. Perhaps only men can really "get" this song ( My wife still doesn't understand why "Field of Dreams" makes me cry. I, for my part, have no idea why she cries at the end of "Ghost'. ), but all men pretty much "get" it.



Love Will Keep Us Together

Did "Captain and Tennille" epitomize the the cheesiness of the 70s?
Undeniable.

Is this song incredibly catchy?
Undeniable.



Superstition

If this song doesn't make you move, you just might be dead.



Rich Girl

As a kid, I just loved the line "You can rely on the old man's money". Of course, as a little kid, I had no idea that "old man" meant "father". So every time I heard this song, I envisioned an elderly guy with huge bags of cash.



Paradise by the Dashboard Light

Considering the subject matter of this song, perhaps it's a bit inappropriate that I liked this song so much as a child. Of course, I really had no idea what they were singing about. I just knew a loved the back and forth during the "Will you love me forever / Let me sleep on it" part.



Squeeze Box

OK, so this song is really inappropriate for a child - but I swear when I heard the lines "Mama's got a squeeze box, Daddy never sleeps at night", I thought they were singing about an accordion!



Rich

P.S. I don't know how many responses I'll get to this post, but if you do respond, I'd love to hear your own lists of childhood songs.