When Did This Happen?

I’m getting old.  I understand that.  My dad was right when he used to hound me as a teenager for all that jumping on concrete and hardwood. Back then it was all about increasing the vertical.  Now, however it’s about my knees and ankles serenading me with the William Tell Overture when I get out of bed.  I’m also getting to like cold weather less and less.  These things I understand.  What I don’t understand is what happened this weekend.


Sunday afternoon was one of those picture perfect spring days, made even more perfect by the fact that it occurred in the middle of February.  We took the girls to a local park and lo and behold found a huge hill.  Who can’t resist running to the top of that? CB and I make it to the top, and I get the bright idea that it’s time to introduce her to “hill rolling”.  I get her lined up sideways, hands tucked, legs stiff, and give her a good push.  She goes soaring down the hill at about 4,000 RPM.  She gets up covered in grass and screaming with laughter.  She runs back to the top and does this about 3-4 more times. 


She then decides that Daddy should get in on the action.  No problem.  I assume the position at the top of the hill, and in no time at all I’m at the bottom.  I’ll have to admit, it was a lot more fun than I anticipated.  Then it hits me.


I stand up, or at least attempt to.  The entire world is spinning, and it feels like someone has just tried to crack open my dome with a crowbar.  I’ve got one eye shut staggering around in the field trying to grab a tree before I fall down.  CB thinks this whole thing is hysterical.


After a few minutes, the earth finally returns to a slower rotation, enough for me to make out where CB’s standing, and I realize that she’s just done this same thing 4 times in a row with no adverse effects.


“Don’t you get dizzy?” I ask her.  She just laughs and tells me no.  She looks at me like I’ve just asked her the strangest question in the world.  So, my question is this?  When does that internal dizziness sensor kick in.?  Age 10, 20, 30?


At age 4 CB can roll down the hill for half an hour and never think twice.  I thought my first time must have been some kind of fluke.  Al’s threatening me as I made my way to the top that if I take one more roll, then she’s driving home.


One last shot.  Was it a fluke?  Let’s just say that I handed the keys to Al as we left. Actually, I think I handed my keys to a small oak tree that I thought was Al. 


I’m getting old.


Maybe I’ve overdone it. CB’s an addict. “Big as Your Face” is now an integral part of her vocabulary. While many of you know how much I can’t stand this town, I will have to admit that the Chuy’s on 183 has the best outdoor seating around.

Some serious concentration from my little “Air Havens”

MK enjoying the scene.

And for CB…Classic Chuy’s Pose

For an Old Friend or Two

As many of you know this blog is done for entirely selfish reasons.
It’s nothing more than a place for me to rant about everything from
politics to eighties tunes. And when you really break it down, it’s
ultimately a medium for me to say “Look how cute my kids are when
they…” But this post will be a little different. This one’s

JV basketball – the mere thought of that phrase is enough to bring the
smiles and the tears. I can honestly say I learned more about people
and relationships during that time of my life than any other – with
the main lesson being that respect your elders thing is a load of crap
– they have to earn it like anyone else. Some do, some don’t.

One that definitely didn’t was our fearless, errr, feckless leader.
Quite possibly the worst coach in the history of the game. In fact,
the only worse candidate would have to be his superior, the Varsity
Coach. Seriously, you’d have to go back to the days when they were
nailing peach buckets to the walls to find a more incompetent duo, but
I digress.

Thinking back on those times now, all I can do is laugh. It’s some
serious inside baseball, but the phrase, “All you little pissants want
to do is ride the bus, poot, and eat chicken fried” is forever seared
in my memory. If that ain’t East Texas, nothing is.

It was inspirational lines like the aforementioned that made those
years special. Not special in a Hoosier’s kind of way, maybe more
like in a Bad News Bears meets Anchorman kind of special. But we did
learn a lot. One of my personal favorites was a lesson in

Our coach, feeling especially spiritual, I guess, led us in a prayer
before one game that was teetering on a full-length sermon. He was
invoking our Lord for protection from everything, help, blessings,
etc… This is all well and good, except for the fact that the next
phrase out of his mouth, after the opening tip-off, which occurred
less than a minute after this benediction, was, “God%*&it Havens! Get
your head out of you’re A$$!!!”


I say all that to say this: I’m a pack rat. What does that have to
do with anything? I was digging through old boxes in my attic when I
came across a wrinkled, folded up piece of poster board. I was about
to throw it away, but even I had to wonder at my own reasons for
keeping such a seemingly insignificant token. I opened it up to find
the following.

I won’t even attempt to explain this sign for fear of losing what
few readers I may still have. But let me say this, “Coach Young was

I apologize for all of you that had to sit through this, but for the
2, maybe 3 people that get that last reference, it’s like finding
Indy’s Fedora under your bed. Enjoy, Mr. Best. Enjoy…

Zoo Fun

We’ve been promising the girls a trip to the zoo for quite some time now.  The weather this past weekend was so perfect that we couldn’t refuse.  Throw in a trip to Schmaltz’s for the old man, and we’re all in.

CB was a little leary of the big cats.  She sides with Nana in thinking these things look best on a purse.  MK however, wasn’t so bothered.

Ok, maybe a little concerned.

CB’s favorite part of the trip?  Hanging with her cousin, Maddy.

CB was loving her baby-sitting gig.

Poor CB, having to keep up with little sis, Maddy, and mommy.  Quite a chore.

The tradition continues.  Anytime we’re near a zoo we’ve got to have the obligatory giraffe picture for Nana.  I had them when I was young.  CB has had her share, and now little sis is in on the action.

The Writer's Strike

This has been a hot topic all over the web recently, but I haven’t really delved into it on the blog. However, now it’s really starting to hit home. This video of “24” is all the proof you need. While this is still by far the best show on tv, it looks like the strike has impacted the series somewhat. I can’t really put my finger on it, but something is just not right.

[vodpod id=ExternalVideo.477207&w=425&h=350&fv=] from s45.photobucket.com posted with vodpod

Food Critic

 I’ve been wondering wht MK might do when she grows up.  I know it’s a little early to start in on such things, but you never know with this girl.  Then it hit me the other night…food critic.  Anyone that shows this much passion for food – gotta be a critic.

Either that, or, for those of you with kids her age, she could film an episode of Elmo’s World.  As in, “Dorothy, this is how Ray Charles eats a cookie.”

[vodpod id=ExternalVideo.477203&w=425&h=350&fv=] from s45.photobucket.com posted with vodpod

Super Girl

A bird, a plane????

No, actually it’s a satin cape and a pink Gap hat. Superheroes are a little different around here.

Preparing for take off.

CB had to step in and show her how the old pro rocks the cape.

Bullets, tanks, kryptonite???? No problem. The only thing that can stop this girl is some frizzies.

It's All in the Genes…

My mom always commented on what a strange sleeper I was. Sleepwalking, talking to things that weren’t there, finding me all over the room – all in a typical night. So, I can’t say that I was all that surprised to find Miss CB like this the other night.

Looks comfortable to me…

I Always Knew…

     We had a Simon in our midst.  We were sitting at the table the other night when Al starts singing to MK – a last ditch effort to entertain her.  Al gets about two lines into the song when MK stops, looks at her, then holds a finger to her lips and loudly says, “SHHHH!”  I lost it.  This was too good. 

     However, while I’m cracking up, CB jumps in and says, “No, mommy.  I liked it.  I really liked it.  I say yes.”  CB then throws her hands in the air and announces, “You’re going to Hollywood!!!” 

     I’m troubled.  I don’t know what’s worse.  Raising an Idol junkie, or the possibility of raising another Paula?