Spinning My Wheels, Finally Gaining Traction

Things are starting to calm down somewhat on my end, after a couple of weeks where it felt like I was constantly spinning my wheels. Work has been non-stop busy, and this is a good thing. The bosses have given me a couple of new things to handle that I might actually enjoy - if I ever get my other stuff done so I can attack them. I am a little worried about the future of the company I am working for though. We have lost out on some big contracts due to an ex-colleague's rampant under-cutting, and the heat is starting to be felt.

The car saga has finally come to a close - for now. Was stuck at the house all weekend afraid to move the thing until I could get it back in the shop. They got the latest glitch dealt with, this time a vacuum hose which was re-inserted improperly. This manifested itself on Friday when I tried to turn on my defroster to deal with my rain-induced foggy windshield - only to have the max air conditioner come on full-blast, fully blinding me and almost causing me to wreck my car. I am strongly considering trading it in now that it is fixed but I know I'll get hosed in the deal.

I do feel like a giant heel. There were some people that I was supposed to get in touch with or go see over the last week and I have been so fried in dealing with the car, the night job and trying to help my parents (first time internet users) get up and running that I have forgotten about some important commitments. My apologies everyone. Things should now start to settle down some for me.

The adjustor was quite the annoying little man. In our first few conversations, he relayed to me no less than 10 times that he was "an Episcopalian" who was going "to be honest with me". Frankly I could care less if the guy was cannibal moon-worshipper, I would hope that the honesty would come standard. He did seem to be a pretty honest guy, although I caught heat from my mechanic over his approach style. The insurance company finally agreed that the car was struck by lightning, and I'll at least get to recoup some of the small fortune I have had to dump into the car in recent weeks. Now, something is popping in the suspension. Wonderful.

Had the DVFFL draft at my house on Sunday, and it went well. The hour or two leading up to the draft tends to be very hectic for the Commissioner. Giving guys directions, printing forgetful guys last-minute research material, getting your own stuff for the draft organized...it can cause a nice little headache (it did). Throw in a cranky one-year-old who refuses to go down for his nap while his Mommy is out food shopping and the headache becomes a four-alarmer. It was all worth it. I love the league, the guys are great, and we usually have a pretty good time. I look forward to draft day every year, and this year did not disappoint. We played some cards afterwards but the results of that game are unimportant, but I will be gunning for neighbor Dan when we reconvene the home game early next month.

My niece (Super-Kid Gabby) started kindergarten on Monday and I am happy to report that things went pretty smoothly. My Mom says she got on the school bus as though she had been doing it for years. Gabby hasn't had a lot of interaction with other kids, so we were somewhat worried about how she'd handle it. So far, so good! I am really proud of her. And while I completely disapprove with my parents methods a lot of the time, I am proud of them too. If not for my Mom and Dad, Gabby would most likely be a ward of the state. I need to stop spazzing on them so much. They are a lot better with Gabby than they were with the four of us, but I still wish they realized how much harm they can do to a kid by saying certain things or acting certain ways in front of them. I didn't expect things to go as well as they have so far, so maybe they can get even better still.

[Currently Listening: Toots and the Maytals (feat. Willie Nelson) - "Still Is Still Moving To Me"]

Feeling Old, Getting Misty, The Man Is 1 Today

Today is The Man Zachary's birthday. Our little guy is a year old, and I have no idea where the year went. His first year has gone by fast. Too fast. He is developing so quickly, I find myself feeling as though I missed most of his "baby" stage. I sat in my living room last night and reflected on the past year and how lucky I am to have such a beautiful son. Then it hit me. There are people that are dear to me that haven't even met him yet. This is what has me torn somewhat today, between happiness, thankfulness and guilt.

A year ago today I was at the hospital with Kim, who was very much in labor. She had gone into labor on the night of the 22nd, but Zachary was not ready to come out and join the party. I remember a complete inability to get comfortable in the two-chair makeshift bed I put together while trying to watch "National Treasure" on the laptop. Kim was in a lot of pain, so I really couldn't complain. The room was very chilly, but I didn't mind that much. They gave me blankets, although they were for short people and my giant feet were cold. Kim would get her epidural late the next morning, but Zachary continued to delay the proceedings. Around 5pm on the 23rd, the doctor came in and described Zachary as "ornery" and said that Kim could either agree to a C-section or we could wait as long as another full day before he might be ready to comply. Around 5:45p they took Kim in to the Operating Room, and they had already started by the time I arrived. I will spare the gory details (and man, were they gory. I am WAY tough for not passing out after what I saw. I was too tall for the surgical screen to block my view. Holy crap.), but our little guy came into the world at 6:05pm.

Everything that has happened between then and now has been a blur. Between the baby, my working two jobs and handling the various things that adults have to deal with (around-the-house stuff, errands, cars getting struck by lightning, etc.) I have lost track of a lot of people that are near and dear to me. I am embarrassed to report that the bulk of my interaction with friends is through email and MySpace. No matter how busy one gets, there really is no excuse for this. There is a significant handful of my closest friends that have not met Zachary. For this, I deserve to be dragged into the street and beaten about the head and neck with large blunt objects.

Granted, there have been some valid reasons for my lack of sociability. Between the two jobs, the baby, and the everyday things the average adult homeowner has to deal with (around-the-house stuff, errands, cars getting struck by lightning, etc.), there isn't a lot of time for getting out and about. Some people blame my wife for my not getting out much. This has nothing to do with her. Kim rarely gives me a hard time about going out. The blame for my lack of face time with friends lies solely with me. As big a factor as those I just listed is my having a tough time facing people of late. I had a most-embarrassing DUI two Augusts ago that still has me gun-shy about going out. The stunt I pulled at my last job is what really has me shame-ridden and afraid to face people. I feel like a sub-human for allowing myself to sink to that level. Some people tell me to not beat myself up, that there were some valid reasons for my doing what I did - but there weren't. I had taken a lot of pride in re-creating myself as a disciplined, prioritized guy that could be counted on when needed - instead of the drifting, seemingly-always-in-need, wayward soul I was through most of my twenties. I was wronged, but what I did to retaliate was stupid, dangerous and something I will be ashamed of for the rest of my life. I need to get myself over this. All of my friends that I have spoken to about this have voiced their support for me. None have been judgmental. Obviously the problem is me. I want to apologize to all of my good friends that I have been more-or-less hiding from for so long. There really is no excuse. I hope you guys can forgive me.

I will say that I am one proud papa. Last night Kim called me upstairs to look at the particular way Zachary was sleeping (which was uber-cute) and I got a little choked up. I am a very lucky man, car getting struck by lightning notwithstanding. There are people all over the world who can't have kids, and a year ago today Kim gave me the most beautiful son I could ask for. He has a great personality for a kid - very engaging. He has been ahead of the curve for the most part developmentally, and he is all kinds of cute (I can take no credit for this because he looks exactly like Kim). Becoming a Dad has definitely re-snapped me into shape priority-wise. However, my friends ARE a priority, and from here on out I will be doing a better job of balancing my life. It really is a disgrace that I don't spend any time with certain close friends. I have to fix this, and fix it soon.

[Currently Listening: Metallica - "Nothing Else Matters"]

So Much For What I Believe - Frappin' Car

I have been mulling over a piece that I have been wanting to write for a couple months now, something that gives a synopsis of who I am, where I've been and what I believe. My son is about to turn 1, and my plan was to get all of these thoughts down as a written time capsule of sorts. This whole plan has been figuratively flushed down the commode by an overwhelming never-ceasing conundrum that is seeking to destroy what little shreds of sanity I have left - my f$#&*%! car.

Kim and I live in a development that is as visitor friendly as Calcutta. Parking is at a premium, so much so that each household is designated assigned parking spaces - two spaces per house. My designated space happens to be the only one that sits directly under a tree. There is only one tree on our street, and I am forced to park under it. Normally my biggest concerns are hygiene related, as my Blazer is constantly covered by bird poop and pollen. Some people name their cars. I haven't found an appropriate female name-equivalent to Charlie Brown's friend Pig Pen.

A few weeks ago, my favorite tree in the whole world was struck by lightning in most spectacular fashion. Since my car was parked directly underneath it (as typical Vince luck would have it), the electrical system in my car was...affected. Upon removing the tree limb from the hood and starting the car to move it out of harm's way, I noticed many of my dashboard warning lights were on. My hopes that these were just "dummy" lights or a simple short-circuit in the fuses was quashed upon taking the car to the mechanic. The car has been back to the mechanic FIVE times since the lightning strike, including this morning's drop-off. A quick list of everything that was fried in the car as of yesterday: alternator, battery, brake module, computer and all sorts of other things related to these components. So far the damage is hovering around $2000.00. Things looked to be fixed after yesterday's 900-plus dollar round of repairs - until this morning when my car lurched and my "Service Engine Soon" light came on... I am waiting to see what the damage is today before calling the insurance company, and I must say that my confidence in the mechanic that has been working on the car has been shaken somewhat. How many times do you need to fix something before you get it right? Needless to say this has been a very frustrating handful of weeks, and still no end to it in sight.

[Currently Listening: The Cars - "Just What I Needed"]

Lilly-Livered Land Lubbers

I have always had a pretty good memory, so good in fact that my cousin Mark used to make fun of me when we were kids for bringing up stuff that happened years prior. However, as I get to be an old man (33 going on 65), some of my memories are getting hazy - and there are some that sometimes feel like maybe I dreamt them. This past week at the shore, one memory in particular kept coming to mind, and I caught myself wondering if I had the details of what transpired correct in my head. Today, after talking to someone else who was there, I have my confirmation. I'm not crazy, and this really happened.

It was the summer of '88, and I was in the Outer Banks with the Alessi family of Overbrook. They had always been very good to me, and it was through their extreme generosity that I took the only two vacations of my childhood. They had brought me along to North Carolina the previous year as well, and I had one of the best times of my life spending the week with my friends Tommy and Jamie, and their parents and two younger siblings. The first day we arrived it was raining pretty heavily, so we were stuck in the rental house playing Boggle and reading the house books (one of which was "Jaws"). The second day the sun was out and we were extremely psyched to get into the ocean - we arrived at the beach only to be greeted by wooden "Hammerhead Shark Warning: Beach Closed" signs. On the third day, the signs were gone - and we were free to go into the water. Mr. Alessi had picked up a yellow and black two-man raft for the boys to use, and we couldn't wait to try it out. Naturally, all three of us (Tommy, Jamie and I) piled into the raft and began paddling out over the breakers.

We got a good distance from the shoreline and were feeling pretty good about ourselves. We were admiring the distance from shore that we had attained when one of us (as best as we can remember, Tommy) felt a bump from under the raft. "Did you guys feel that?", asked Tom. Neither Jamie or I had noticed anything. Less than a minute later there came a second bump, and there was no mistaking it. All three of us froze, not moving a muscle except for looking out of the corners of our eyes - out over the edge of the raft. Then came a third bump - and this one shook the raft somewhat. Very shortly thereafter, a fin rose out of the water not 5 feet from the right edge of our raft. This was all we needed to see, as once the blood drained from our faces Tom and I put the paddles in the water and "paddled like crazed idiots". I assure you two teenagers from West Philly have never paddled faster than we did - not even at the Dad Vail Regatta. When we got to within 100 feet of shore, without any announcement whatsoever, Tommy leaped from the raft and swam for the beach. Jamie and I froze in shock (Tom's account: "at the last second, I jumped out to manually pull the raft to shore"). He did indeed help pull us in from the shallows, but an announcement on his part prior to taking this action would have kept me from yelling "Tommy, NOOOOOOO!" at the top of my lungs.

Upon our sweet return to land, we found a pretty good-sized group of people (including the Alessi parents and younger siblings) snapping away with their cameras. A few of them, including Mrs. Alessi, rushed over to and asked rather excitedly, "Hey! Did you guys see those dolphins? You guys looked like you were pretty close!". All three of us responded at the same exact moment and in the same exact pitch: "DOLPHINS?!?!?!?".

Our faces must have been classic at this moment of realization. We had apparently paddled right into the midst of a school of dolphins. Dolphins that apparently wanted to play with us. I have agonized over this from time to time over the past 17-18 years. I mean, how many chances in your life (unless you are an Onassis or something) do you get to just hang out with dolphins? Something my old friend The Admiral said today helped ease the pain: "Let's face it. We're not qualified to tell the difference between a shark fin and a dolphin fin. And when something nudges your little raft, you don't ask questions". He was right. The "crazed idiots" reaction and escape tactic was the right move. Less than 24 hours after a hammerhead shark warning, discretion was the better part of valor.

Thankfully this incident occurred before the ultra-availability of video cameras and the YouTube.com revolution. We would have been immortalized as the three city kids paddling with our arms flying faster than Fred Flinstone's feet while driving, with afraid-to-blink eyes as wide as saucers, screaming and cursing and near-crying for a five-minute stretch that felt like it lasted an eternity. It probably looked so funny that we might have taken the place of the monkey that passes out after smelling his own butt video that was passed around by everyone during the infancy of email and the World Wide Web.

After our heart rates slowed and we got over the initial shockwave of shame, we attempted to paddle back out to where we originally got nudged. But alas, our sea-bound mammalian friends were nowhere to be found.

(As an aside, I actually wish someone HAD gotten this on tape. I don't think my retelling captures the fear or the hilarity of what transpired. I mean, three city kids paddling for their lives from what they thought was a shark attack, only to find out in fromt of 50 people that they had actually successfully escaped a school of dolphins? It would be classic video.)

[Currently Listening: Blondie - "The Tide Is High"]

Vacation Has Changed

We got back from our week in the O.C. NJ late Saturday night. It was a most interesting week, and while I can't say the batteries are recharged, as it were, I can say that it was a huge learning experience.

The first lesson learned this past week is that vacations with young children are not relaxing. The first part of the week was rough. Kim and I were at each others' throats the first few days as we adjusted to life at the shore with an 11-month-old. Tension levels were already high as we weren't sure how we would be received after the whole blow-up over the neighbor's tree, and we did very little to minimize them upon arriving at the beach. Good relations with our neighbor were re-established quickly, but it took us a few days to settle into a routine with the baby, the beach, etc. We didn't do al ot of what we normally do when we are shore-bound, and a lot of that was due to having to work around the baby's schedule. We will be more prepared next time, for sure.

We had near-perfect weather for the week, with a spectacular thunderstorm thrown in on Monday night that was incredible to watch. I took my neighbor to another house where his family from out-of-town were staying and got to watch the lightning out over the ocean - which was as impressive as any fireworks show I can remember. Temperatures were down all week from the nasty heat wave of the previous week, and we just missed the green fly invasion that made life miserable for beach-goers that week as well. The wind was an issue, and we had more trouble with beach umbrellas than two college-educated people should. We ended up buying two during the vacation. #$&*! flimsy pieces of crap...

We got down to the boardwalk a few times, and that is always fun. We entered Zachary in the "Pamper Scamper" on Tuesday, and it was quite the event. His age group (12 months and under) had the most entrants, and it was split up into 6 heats. He was in the first, and could have won it. In the Ocean City version of the crawling race, babies are placed by their parents in the middle of a big parachute, then goaded by said parents to crawl to the edge - with the first to touch the sand declared the winner. The Man Zachary's race was one of the cutest things I have ever seen. At the start, none of the babies paid attention to their Moms who dangled various sundry items about in (most futile) efforts to lure their offspring to the edge of the parachute. At the start of Zachary's heat, not one of the babies moved towards their parents. They all sat and looked at one another. It was awesome. Zachary just sat there staring at one of the female babies he was sitting next to. Once she started crawling, he followed her. He ended up darting past her and two other kids who ended up heading in the same direction. Zachary beat all of the other kids to the edge, then stopped. He sat down and looked back for the little girl he had been following. Her mother had thrown a cell phone onto the 'chute and Zachary realized it wasn't his, so he just sat there for about 10 seconds. The little girl touched the sand and Zachary touched a second or two after she did. He got a very nice 2nd Place ribbon and had his name published in the local paper (I bought two copies!). It was very cool. If the excitement I felt watching him participate in an event in which he clearly had no idea what was going on, I am going to need a pacemaker once he starts playing sports.

Wednesday afternoon we took Zach to the Cape May Zoo. It was much better than I expected. I recommend it to anyone looking for something non-beachy to do on a family vacation at the Jersey Shore. Thursday night Kim's cousin Jena came down and we all went to the boardwalk, where it was Family Night. They had various live bands playing, and Zachary loved that. We danced to a most-cheesy "reggae" band and had a good time. Jena and Kim took him on his first amusement park ride (some bear-themed cup-and-saucer monstrosity) and seemed more concerned than entertained.

The second half of the week was much better to us than the first, and all-in-all it was an alright first family vacation. Vacations will be different now, with the onus shifting from relaxation and enjoyment to survival. That being said, I am glad to be back - and now its time to catch up on a week's worth of work and fixing all of the things people did wrong in my absence. I return to the office today to the steady pounding of hammer drills coming through the wall from the office next door. Ah, Monday...

[Currently Listening: Cornelius Brothers & Sister Rose - It's Too Late To Turn Back"]

One Busy Grizzly

It always seems that the work week leading up to a vacation is always crazy. I am in the middle of one of these weeks. I am trying to get all of my ducks in a row in order to minimize the damage my co-workers will do to my routine in my absence, while the monthly billing is due for my night job as well. Prior to last night, the Man Zachary was having a rough time getting to sleep at night due to some intense teething - which led to me staying up with him until close to 2am on Monday night. All of this is leading to one pooped-out camper in yours truly. There is light at the end of the tunnel though, as me and the fam will be leaving early Saturday morning for Bill's place in O.C. NJ - my first real vacation in a few years, and our first with the baby. He has loved the beach the first two times we have taken him, and my goal is to avoid him taking any more wave facials on my watch. I am such a bad Dad.

I took one of those 18-question multiple-choice quizzes entitled "What animal best suits your personality". These quizzes are usually cute and they are a great time-killer. Why I took this quiz when I am as busy as I previously stated I have no idea. I am a slacker. I filled out the quiz and got the following result:

What animal would best suit your personality?

A GRIZZLY BEAR.

You are the Grizzly. A strong, but good willed person who is in touch with both people and your surroundings. You like the social life, but you also like quiet moments alone simply relaxing and doing nothing. You have an inner temper, which when lashed out upon any unsuspecting victim - can be scary.

Did I mention that this was a simple 18-question multiple-choice internet quiz? Combine this quiz result with the lyrics to the great Social Distortion song "I Was Wrong", and you have me in a nutshell. I thought I was deeper than that, but hey, if the shoe fits...

Wife committed me to dinner last night at Victory in Downingtown which left me feeling bloated and unattractive. Great appetizers, great beer and so-so kinda blah sandwiches. I hadn't had anything resembling a heavy or dark beer in quite some time, and while they were good they hit me like a brick. I needed a break from the end-of-month night job paperwork, so the outing was most welcome. It pushed a lot of the workload to yet another night but it is a sacrifice I was willing to make. Vince miss beer. Beer good.

[Currently Listening: Dance Hall Crashers - "Sticky"]