Four Square No. 1060 W. Addison

Normally football dominates my sporting attention in the football. But with the Colts at 1-2, I can't help look towards brighter, more appealing sports topics. Like post season baseball.

Cubs and Dodgers begin Wednesday. I've been told by many "well wishers" (i.e. Cubs fan wannabe's) to enjoy the postseason games while they last, because next week I'll be miserable. Taking their advice, I'm missing a free beer thing with some of the Hoosier Beer.

Instead, the fam at Four Square No. 266 will be at a neighbors house, where he will have Old Style beer and Vienna Beef hot dogs. I'm hoping to consume a lot of Old Style during what will hopefully be a long October.

Or maybe not. That's the funny thing about sports: there are winners and there are losers. Despite the hope I have for the Cubs, there is only a 12.5% chance they will win the World Series. So the odds are against us.

We'll just enjoy it while it lasts. And just keep singing...

Go, Cubs, go
Go, Cubs, go
Hey, Chicago, what do you say
The Cubs are gonna win today.

They want you to pay to listen to their thoughts. I give you mine for free!

I've received many invites in the mail to contribute money to one political candidate or another. For a few bucks, I can come and listen to the candidates at a dinner or cocktail party. I don't have the money to give. And if I did, I certainly wouldn't give it to a political campaign.

I do have a couple of yard signs. I'd love to put an Barrack Obama sign in my yard, but I really don't feel the need to pay $8 for one. If he feels like stopping by and dropping one off, he's more than welcome to. Otherwise, he'll just have to be happy with my vote. And my occasional political post here. But that's as much support as you'll see from me.

On occasion, I think to myself: I should run for political office. I’ve had on-again/off-again aspirations. I’d like to be a statesmen, taking care of my constituents. I’d hate to do the political game though, kissing ass and shaking change out of people’s pockets.

I can’t stand people disagreeing with me (just ask the lovely wife). I have no patience for stupid people. Plus, I’d be calling people ‘dopes’ and ‘dumbasses’ all the time. The public generally doesn't care for that kind of honesty.

I think I'll stick to my day job.

Stubborn, part 2

We had to increase El Presidente’s wean weekend from 48 hours to 72 hours. We had discovered after three wean weekends that he was figuring out that if he could just tough it out over those two days, he could get away with not eating at all. So we bumped it up. Three days, no formula. You will eat, mister. You will eat.

He’s a stubborn ass. Just like his parents.

Stubborn

Before I married the lovely wife, my father shared with me some advice on marriage. You shouldn’t argue and battle just because you think you are right. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the battle doesn’t matter, so why worry about “winning”? Don’t worry about pride; it will just get you in trouble.

Really, it’s a good lesson to apply to life in general. It is not, however, an easy pill to swallow. I’m a pretty stubborn ass. It’s hard to not want the last word or to be right. I want to win, dammit.

But for the lovely wife, I try. I try hard.

Unfortunately, she is also a stubborn ass. And she has tried hard to not have the last word, be right, and win.

Over time, life’s frustrations have taken their toll on us. At home, work, and in between, we aren’t in control of anything in our life. With all the troubles we face, all we desire is to be in control just once. We just want to be right.

So when there is a minor disagreement over something that doesn’t matter at all, we’ve taken to battling over who is right. It can get mean. And feelings get hurt. All so that we can feel in control for just a moment. But whoever “wins”, feels bad about it. And in the end, no one wins.

In order to eliminate sore feelings and still allow each other to feel in control, I think we should take turns being right. So the winner isn’t determined by who is right, or more often, you yells the loudest, but instead by what day it is.

I’m thinking I’ll take the odd numbered days; the lovely wife can have the even numbered.

Only 363 Days until the 2009 Street Fair. Hopefully I'll burn the calories from the 2008 Street Fair by then.

We left town on Thursday, heading to the Bluffton Street Fair for the weekend. We made it just in time for the big Industrial Parade, where El Presidente was able to see tractors and trucks and other large, loud pieces of machinery and equipment. A boy's dream.
I'm a Bluffton outsider. But I'm a big fan of the Street Fair. In fact, I take vacation time to attend extra days. There are plenty of reasons to love it: the dozens of blocks of downtown streets closed off for a week, the thousands of flashing lights, the carnie culture, the rides...
But Street Fair food is the biggest draw for me. There are concessions run by the Midway operator. I normally don't eat at these stands, though I did get a slice of pizza from them this year.

There are stands operated by local groups, like churches, high schools, and organizations. The 4-H booth does pancakes and sausage while the Southern Wells High School booster booth does sloppy joes. A couple of churches do walking tacos. One church does a variety of baked potatoes. And one does chocolate covered fruit on a stick that they call a ZUMstick (Zanesville United Methodist, for those that don't know the lingo).

A local family operates a fish fry stand. They have been for decades. For a while, the family had a rift and there were two stands with the same name. But only one has survived. That's a regular stop for the lovely wife. There are other fish fry stands, and everybody has an opinion on who is the best. But Mettler's is certainly the first family of fish fry at the fair.
But the best food booths are the independents who travel from fair to fair and make a living of it. There's a booth that sells steak tips with mashed potatoes, peppers, onions, and mushrooms. Another sells HUGE tenderloins with two buns. Poor Judy sells nothing but elephant ears and funnel cakes (for the record, funnel cakes are much better than elephant ears... powdered sugar only, please). A couple of old men run a booth with nothing but meats on a stick which are battered and deep fried. Sausage on a stick is a manly meal. And there is a retired couple that run the Queen Apples stand. They spend their summers in Minnesota and their winters in Florida doing fairs and carnivals. When traveling between the two states, they hit whatever fairs they can, including Bluffton's Street Fair.
But by far, the best food comes from Sam's Italian Sausage stand. The trailer is older than I am. And all they sell is Italian Sausage sandwiches. They are spicy, topped with peppers, onions, and tomato sauce. But the secret has to be the grill, which has decades of sausage grilling experience. And it gets better with age. I swear, the sausages this year were the best yet.
Aside from the food, there is the Saturday bar crawl. The nightlife in Bluffton isn't exactly exciting, but one night a year, everybody is out and drinking. The American Legion post (which, like all the other fraternal organizations, open to the public for the night) is a popular place. They started charging a cover charge a few years ago to help control crowds. The younger crowd tends to skew towards the Rittenhouse for their big Street Fair Party. Not me. They are both too crowded for me.

We started at the Moose, where the members stay all night long and give you a look like "you don't belong here". We quickly moved to the Belly Up, a small bar that only opens one day a year and is home to the cheapest booze EVER. And then we moved on to the Elks where the beer selection was slightly better (hello, Amberbock) and Jello shots were cheap. We having met up with a number of friends, including a couple that introduced us to the concept of anal pregnancy, but I'll leave that alone for now. It was a great night.
The lovely wife got very drunk, thanks in part to the magical combination of "Blue Punch" and "Red Punch" at the Belly Up. Don't know what was in those drinks. I just know they were good. The lovely wife doesn't get drunk too often. But I'm glad she did. She really enjoyed it.

There are things to not like about Street Fair. Like any fair or carnival, it brings out the trash. In particular of the white variety. A lot of rude people that give no consideration to others. Carnies that end up in the county lock up for starting a fight on a drunken night.
And you have to be on the look out for bees. There is always a ton of bees at Street Fair. I think they travel with the carnies. Unfortunately, El Presidente received his very first bee sting this year. A painful ordeal, but thankfully, he didn't swell up like the Michelin man, so hopefully this means he is not allergic.

But even with its faults, the Street Fair is a lot of fun. It's hard to explain why it seems to be better than any other church, county, or state fair I've ever been to. Something about the atmosphere that is there. Something about the community spirit of it.

I think it is because for one week, this fair is the center of life in Bluffton and most of Wells County. It lands at the courthouse, it spreads down the streets, interrupting work, school, life. Even the state routes have to make way for the fair.

And the citizens are happy to have it. This isn't just an event. It's a way of life.
And we at Four Square No. 266 will be anxiously awaiting it's return.

You are a Cubs fan whether you admit to it or not

My first love in sports are the Indianapolis Colts. But like 99.9% of Americans, I am also a Cubs fan. I watched the Cubs on Saturday beat the Cards and win the NL Central again. In another week, the MLB playoffs will begin, and we’ll see if they will do well in October. If they do, I assure you, it will not be because of a Billy Goat, a Bart Man, or some other 100 year curse. If they don’t, I assure you the same thing.

While watching FOX’s broadcast, I noticed a couple of signs on one of the outfield building. They read “Eamus Catuli!” and “AC006299”. I’ve seen them many times before and have always wondered what they hell was up with those. But after a few (too many) Old Style’s, I’d forget all about those signs. But Saturday, the broadcasters were commenting about the signs and explaining what they meant. The “Eamus Catuli!” is Latin for “Let’s Go Cubs!”. And “AC” is short for Anno Catuli or Year of the Cubs. The “00” is the number of years since the last division championship. The “62” is the number of years since the last National League championship. And the “99”… well, I’m sure you can figure it out.

I’m sure most Cubs fans already knew that. If they win it all (which there is only a 12.5% chance of that happening), then next year the sign will read “AC000000”. The signs have only been there since 1995, but they are an interesting young tradition just the same.

The Cubs post season begins on October 1st. Given how well the Colts and Fighting Irish are playing, a long Cubs post season is very much welcome.

Spoiled

We have become spoiled, Indianapolis. The Colts have had a winning record since the 2002 season. We’ve been treated to some stellar performances by Peyton Manning, Marvin Harrison, and others. The Colts won Super Bowl XLI. And a stellar stadium has been constructed, with a mural on the north wall acknowledging that it is the house that champions built. Indy loves a winner

But we knew eventually that the Colts would have bad seasons. Peyton and Marvin aren’t the young fellows they once were. Eventually, this football high that we have been riding will come down. And when it happens, I expect a lot of bandwagon fans to fall off. Indy loves a winner. And hates a loser.

But I wasn’t expecting it to be this year. And it still may not be. Injuries have played a big role in our lack of success. But the second half of the Minnesota game, the first half of the Jaguars game, and some bright moments in the fourth quarter have shown that the high powered Colts are still in there. The lack of practice and reps during the pre-season means that the team is just a bit rusty.

Okay, I admit, we can’t seem to stop the run. But when have we ever? That and special teams have always been our Achilles heel. So the Colts are off to a 1-2 start. And the Titans are hot at 3-0. There are still 13 games left as they head into a bye week. I’m frustrated, but I haven’t given up.

I have, however, done away with my damned annual football beard. I don’t know I feel the need to grow a beard for football season. But after the success of the 2006 season, I vowed to have a beard for every future Colts game. The beard is lucky. Well, three weeks in, the Colts performance has been irritating. And so has the beard. So instead of saying so long to my beloved football team, and I just said “Bye bye beard.”

Not for those who are afraid of calories

I had the signature dish at Maxine's Chicken and Waffles at East and Ohio Streets at lunch today. Good stuff. The combo of fresh waffles, peach butter, fried chicken, and maple syrup all in one bite is a knock out. I recommend tossing some hot sauce in as well.

Their fried green tomatoes with southern sauce is pretty tasty too. And they have sweet tea, as any respectable southern food establishment should. It's not for those looking at getting into a speedo next swimsuit season.

Waffles and fried chicken is, of course, a great way to start off a weekend of calorie carnage. I speak of the annual Street Fair in Bluffton. We're on our way soon so that El Presidente can enjoy the parade and show choir concerts tonight.

I'm going to be a fat(ter) mofo by the time the weekend is done.

Two weeks later...

...and El Presidente seems to have taken to pre-school. The lovely wife walked him to school today. He ran up the steps to the front door, entered, went to his classroom, turned, and growled like a lion as he entered.

Don't know why. He does that around the house all the time. He'll put his hands up like claws, stalk around the house, and growl. El Presidente thinks its funny. We tend to agree.

So no crying as mom left. No fussing. Straight to business. Doing what two year old preschoolers do.

Whatever that is.

Another special needs parent speaks

My friend over at Chesterly, who is a father of a special needs child, wrote about his opinion of Sarah Palin and her decision to run for VP in light of 1.) having a 4 month old special needs child of her own and 2.) having a 4 month pregnant teenage daughter.

Only 110 Shopping Days...

Sam's Club had Christmas decorations out for sale. Seriously? We're barely into September.

Looking for something better

When Barack Obama first selected Joe Biden as his running mate, I was concerned. On the surface, he seemed to be just another white male politician and he would knock the "Change" momentum off track. After reading more about him, learning about his background, and hearing him speak at the national convention last week, I'm on board. He provides strength where Obama has weaknesses. And they seem to match up pretty well.

When John McCain first selected Sarah Palin as his running mate, I was concerned. For the Obama/Biden ticket, that is. On the surface, she seemed like an atypical politician. A woman governor from Alaska. The selection appeared to be an attempt to snipe Clinton supporters. After reading more about her, learning about her background, and hearing her speak at the national convention last night, I realized that she is a typical Republican. My right-wing emailing uncle said at a family gathering recently, "Any woman that can hunt moose is alright by me." Apparently moose hunting is pre-requisite to be a Republican. The only things that she and Hillary Clinton have in common are ovaries.

But she does match up well for McCain. She is more conservative where his credentials are questionable, so the right wingers should be satisfied. She provides youth to contrast his age, so she should be able to help pull in reluctant young and female conservatives. And she provides a pretty face to contrast his less than appealing face. But by adding youth, he takes away his ability to argue against Obama's inexperience (even though she tried to last night).

I could only listen to her for about 10 minutes. She has a manner of speaking that makes me cringe, like fingernails on a chalk board. Palin makes me think of The Simpson's Mrs. Lovejoy: "Think about the children! Won't somebody PLEASE THINK ABOUT THE CHILDREN!" She likes the sound of her own voice, likes to sound alarms, likes to condemn those whose ideas don't go along with hers, but doesn't offer any ideas of her own.

I read over the transcript from her speech, and some of the statements just chill me. She referenced 9/11 once, McCain being a POW a couple of times, and imminent victory in Iraq several times (why can't Republicans separate support for troops and support for war?). She bashed on Obama and his supposed lack of experience (what is it that they say about pots and kettles?). And she mocked his grand ideas of hope and change. When you have nothing to offer, knock on those that do and bring them down to your level. That's what her speech was about last night.

But the moment of the speech that severely turned me off I witnessed live on television. It was early in the speech when she said:

"Sometimes even the greatest joys bring challenge. And children with special needs inspire a very, very special love... To the families of special-needs children all across this country, I have a message for you: For years, you've sought to make America a more welcoming place for your sons and daughters. And I pledge to you that, if we're elected, you will have a friend and advocate in the White House."

Governor Palin has a 5 month old son named Trig who has Downs syndrome. As a parent of a special needs kid, I feel for her and her family. Sincerely I do. My son's special needs are different from hers, so what they are going through is a bit different than mine. All special needs kids are different and have a range of severity. So that's a nice statement to make about being a friend and advocate.

But what exactly can you do for those parents? What proposals do you and Sen. McCain have to improve our lives? Aside from the psychological and emotional tolls that special needs can have on a family, there is also the financial toll. Hospitals, doctors, prescriptions, therapists, equipment... they cost money. Lots of money.

I'm lucky that I have good health insurance. I'm lucky that I work for a company large enough that my son's expensive health concerns have little impact on the company's health plan. But my wife used to work at a small accounting firm. And that firm saw it's health plan become more and more expensive, and the premiums kept going up and up, because one employee had a son with grave health concerns. People in the office grumbled about it. They were upset. Because her son was on their health plan, they had to pay more. She most certainly noticed what others were saying.

And there are others. At the NICU, there were parents who couldn't spend a lot of time in the hospital with their child because they had to get back to work to pay for their insurance. At Riley, we see kids everyday who were born to young women. Kids with special needs that ended up with special needs because of a lack of prenatal care. Lack of prenatal care because of a lack to pay for it.

Palin's life experiences should be the source for more political inspiration. Why isn't she clamoring for health care for everyone? Why isn't she calling for better sex education for our children? Why isn't she offering ideas for improvement? I don't know why, but I do know we need more than just moral support in the White House.

In the end, the two tickets are settling in to their places in the world: Obama and Biden on the left; McCain and Palin on the right. In the middle, there is a battle for the swing voters. McCain looks at the right now, proposing to drill in environmentally sensitive areas and play on everyone's fears about terrorists and war and gas prices. Obama looks further ahead, looking for change that lasts, including alternative energy sources and being a diplomat in the world, not a gun slinger.

Essentially, the choice is more of the same or something different. And how you vote is determined if you are hoping for something better or are happy to stay the course.

First Day of School

This is the obligatory photo in front of the school on the first day of school.

Yes, El Presidente is going to preschool. A few hours a day. A few days a week. Crazy.

I took a couple of hours off this morning so that I could go with the lovely wife to drop him off. Last night, the school had an open house/orientation meet and greet. The classroom is filled with toys and fun stuff. There were a couple of little tables with really little chairs. Along one wall were cubbies for his coat and a container to keep his diapers and a change of clothes. And attached to the classroom was a bathroom with the smallest little working toilet you have ever seen.

Last night, he went through all the toys that were there. He found that they have a collection of sharks that he really liked. We left hoping that the sharks would be enough of a draw for him to return the next morning.

So we got the boy up early, because he's not an early riser. We fed him. Let him watch some morning cartoons. And off we went. Once we arrived at the building, he made a bee line for the door, down the hall, make the turn, down another hall, and straight to his classroom. Like he'd been doing it all his life.

In the room, the teachers were doing activities to hold the attention of all the two year olds while their parents left, though one kid was being rocked by one of the teachers. He was having none of it.

There was a little pool with water and rubber duckies that immediately caught El Presidente's eye. He seemed like he would be okay, though he did catch us leaving.

We waited around the corner to see if he started screaming. Not that we could have done anything. To have gone back would make things worse. I guess we just wanted to know that yes, he would survive without us for a little while.

Some screaming was heard. We analyzed it, determining if it was his pitch, his pattern. Then someone walked out with a screaming child. It wasn't ours. We seemed to be safe.

I went to work. The lovely wife kinda hung around with another parent while waiting for the first day to be done. I received a phone call around lunch, "Just letting you know that I got the boy." I heard him in the background yelling, "Home please."

The day was okay. He did have a fit after we left. And because of how easily he gags on top of having a cold and being snotty, he threw up. Welcome to the club, teach, you've just been initiated.

He was upset for the first half of class. He didn't want to draw with the others, which is an indication of how pissed he was, because he loves to draw. His imagination is so active that he can scribble anything he wants. And sometimes, he actually does look like what he says it is.

The second half of the day went better. But he was ready to go home with the lovely wife arrived. So... success? Yeah, I think so. At some point, I'm sure he'll get used to the rhythm of school and that it is okay to be there...mom and dad will come back.

The lovely wife survived too. She was strong and cool and completely with it.

Me? It was hard. It wasn't until a couple of weeks ago that I realized that he was going to preschool with other kids. And I projecting my own school experiences on him and I started feeling anxious about the whole thing. I was stressed out thinking about if he would get along with others, if he would be liked, if he would be big enough to stand up for himself, if he would feel abandoned, if he would... I don't know. What do two year old's feel?

Part of it comes from El Presidente being small and having health issues and being a bit behind compared to other two year olds.

Part of it comes from the flashbacks I occasionally have to my school days. The times I was called upon by the teacher, not knowing the answer to a simple question; or didn't have my homework completed and had to do recess detention; or was pushed around by school bullies.

Or the times I felt anxious and out of sorts, feeling uncomfortable about just being me, a sensation that, I'm sad to say, still comes around in my adult life.

Sometimes I want to take El Presidente and hide him from the world, sheltering him from its cruelties. But I know that would be futile. At the very least, I want him to enjoy being himself and not worry so much about what others think. I want him to be truly confident in himself and bravely face life each day. I want him to be an improvement over me and not inherit my psychotic tendencies.

So, he puked on his teacher the first day out the gate. Big deal. Even with that, he's still on pace to succeed his old man.

Apparently I am getting old

Down in my hometown of Columbus, they have an annual Labor Day concert at Mill Race Park that is a fundraising event for Hospice of South Central Indiana. They bring in a band that was once upon a time popular and now is older and looking at making money at fairs and festivals. I've seen The Association, The Grassroots, The Guess Who?, and other groups that were before my time, but none the less recognizable and enjoyable.

The lovely wife, El Presidente, and I went down on Saturday and hung out with my parents, my sister and her clan, one of my brothers and his girlfriend, and long time family friends (the type that are more like family than friends). The headliner was Jan and Dean, best known for their surf and hot rod 60's songs like "Surf City", "Little Old Lady from Pasadena", and "Dead Man's Curve." Though, to be honest, it was just Dean as Jan died in 2004.

Pretty typical for the Labor Day weekend concert. But it was the opening act that through me for a loop. Matthew and Gunnar opened for Jan and Dean (minus Jan). The Nelson brothers. NELSON! One of the rock band's of my youth, known for "(Can't Live Without Your) Love and Affection", "After the Rain", and "More Than Ever", was playing an oldies concert. Dammit, I'M NOT THAT OLD!

To be fair, they were their doing a "Ricky Nelson Remembered" gig, doing mostly songs that their dad did. Though they did do a couple of their songs. Oh, they also sounded great, by the way.

A bunch of others close in age to us thought it was rockin', based on their woo-hoo's and the lighters in the air. But something was still unsettling about having one of your bands at an oldies concert. I suspect I'll have to just get used to it. But not without bitchin' about it first...

Television

It is safe to say that the lovely wife and I are addicted to television. I think anyone with Tivo is addicted to TV or in denial about it. The lovely wife enjoys shows like John and Kate Plus 8, Real Housewives..., Project Runway, and other shows like those. My drugs of choice include Family Guy, Anthony Bourdain, Top Chef, and anything on Food Network. And generally, it hasn't been an issue with El Presidente. He'll watch TV when we are doing a long ass tube feeding or when he's waking up in the morning and doesn't want to do anything but watch cartoons on PBS. Most other times, he chooses to ignore what mom and dad are watching.

Or so we thought. The other night, El Presidente was running around the house. He'd start in the living room, run into the entry hall, then the kitchen, the dining room, and back into the living room (one of the usual perks of Four Square houses, and a favorite feature of kids, is the ability to do complete laps around the house without doubling back). He'd do this over and over. With each lap he'd stop, wait, say something, and then take off.

It was after a couple of laps that we noticed him stopping at these small toys that he had on the floor. El Presidente had, in fact, put the toys there in a straight line. He'd come up to the line of toys, start yelling to himself, "Set, set, set, set, GO!", and take off running.

It had dawned on us: he had built a start/finish line with toys! He was doing races!

We knew that he watched the gymnastics during the Olympics. He would imitate the flailing of the arms, the rolls, flips, and kicks. But we didn't watch much track and field. In fact, by that time, the lovely wife had grown tired of the Olympics. We watched some, but didn't think El Presidente watched it at all.

Apparently, we were wrong. And it was one of those moments where we said to ourselves, what else is he picking up from TV when we think he isn't paying attention? Those little brains are like sponges, soaking everything up. He's like a parrot, mimicking everything we do.

Suddenly, I have to be responsible with my television viewing. Which is a pain in the ass. There's nothing better than an episode of Family Guy to help with a bad mood due to work. Guess I'll have to save that for late night viewing.

But that's not nearly as bad as the lovely wife's task: cleaning up her language...