Bus Ride

My brother-in-law Nathan is a fine fellow. He endured a few years of torture and teasing from me while I dated his older sister (and my future wife Michelle), and sometimes I think back at the practical jokes I pulled with a bit of regret. A very little bit.

I never had a brother of my own, so I took out years of little brother treatment on him. Sometimes I had to manufacture scenarios and situations to tease him about, sometimes they landed in my lap like manna from heaven.

We all used to live in Gaithersburg Maryland, and one of the things our community was most proud about was their public transportation system. Ride-On busses were everywhere, and almost anyone in the town or it’s outskirts could walk out their front door, and be at a Ride-On bus stop in a couple minutes. The network of routes could take you almost anywhere. For students it was ideal- if you missed your school bus, you could hop on a Ride-On and still make it to school on time. Each route was 2-way, every bus stop had an identical sign or shelter across the street. One side took you in one direction, the other side in exactly the opposite.

One day Nathan missed his school bus. He checked to make sure he had 50 cents, and waited for the Ride On. The bus pulled up, Nathan climbed on board, paid his money and had a seat. As the bus started to roll Nathan asked the bus driver “this bus does go to Seneca Valley High School, right?”

The bus driver said- “This route does have a stop at the school, but your headed the wrong direction. You have to go to the other side.”

Nathan said thank you, then stood up and walked the two steps to the other side of the bus and sat down.







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Taxes

For the last many years I have had a tax refund. Not this year. Based on advice from some lovely friends I took the plunge and set up my witholding to bring more of my money into my pocket each pay period and not let the federal government ride on my hard earned money all year.

Great advice.

I am preparing to write a check for an insance amount of money to Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid (Congress holds the purse strings, right?) for my personal taxes for tax year 2006, PLUS, another insane check to them for my quarterly 2007 filing for my new company.

If you want to help me, start randomly clicking on advertisements on my site. I could use the 40 cents...quick.

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Watch The Glove, Turn The Body, Throw The Leg, Snap The Hand, Grunt

Tonight was L’s second game ever as a fast-pitch softball pitcher. She got her second strike out of the season, and managed to not hit any batters in the head.

The title of this post is the mantra I am drilling into her head. Watch the glove. Stare at it. Become one with it. Don’t aim, just watch it. Turn the body towards first base as the pitch flows (she’s left handed), throw the right leg out as far as possible towards the batter, release the ball with a snap letting it roll off the fingers and yank the hand up to the shoulder, and finally, let out a low-pitch grunt for effect and to psych the body into throwing faster. Simple, yes?

It sure seems so now, as her dad/coach. It wasn’t so simple when I was 12 and pitching baseball. The perspective one has years later is like a blaring bright light- so clear, so crisp. If I could go back 28 years I truly think I could be a great pitcher. I get it now. Listen, think, focus, put 100% into every try. When I was 12, it wasn’t nearly as simple. I recall my mind reeling. Wondering if I would throw wild and hit somebody. Worrying I would make a mistake and people would laugh. Trying to step through the motions methodically, when what I really needed to do was make them natural. A part of me. Second nature. Just remembering to try my best with each throw. I get it now. I didn’t then.

Its like most things in life. When we are THERE…in it…living it…we struggle so much. We make rookie mistakes, we slack, we don’t understand that each day, each effort, each thing we decide to do is the BIG LEAGUES. We are in it, and don’t even know it. Marriage. Parenting. Work. Our spiritual life. We, or at least I, stumble through it like a 12 year old baseball pitcher all lanky and uncoordinated hoping that at least one out of 10 pitches gets over the plate. With the years comes the understanding. Spotting mistakes, understanding what is needed to ‘nail it.’

But its too late. By the time we ‘master it’ our time in the game is over. What we have is experience and understanding that we try, try, try to get our kids to use for their benefit. Please God help me understand I’m in it now. Right now.






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I Need A Day To Myself...Quick

Having trouble getting ahead. There is about 20 hours or so of work I need to get done between now and 9AM tomorrow.

Problem? There are only 16.5 hours until then. This is how it is shaping up:

Easter dinner with the family (us 6 plus my mom and dad, sister and her husband and 2 kids, and sister-in-law)= 4 hours

Helping K study for her math test=1 hour

Sleep= 6 hours

Today's blog= 5min

That leaves just under 5.5 hours to do the 20 hours of work I need to get done. I'm in big trouble.

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An Average Week

A series of mildly funny occurrences occurred during our somewhat normal week (the only thing really out of the ordinary was my trip to LA, spring softball games being cancelled due to below-freezing temperatures, and mowing the lawn in jeans, boots, layers of clothing, a jacket and gloves).

Today on the way to out to dinner a fire truck drove by with lights flashing and horn blowing. The driver was drinking a Coke and A called from the backseat of our van
“Hey- that guy was drinking and driving!”
We had all seen the truck and the men in the front seat as it drove by, and Michelle said
“Its ok honey, he was just drinking a Coke.”
“He was still drinking and driving. You shouldn’t do that. We learned about that” A said.
Michelle asked her “So, every time mommy is drinking her bottle of water while she’s driving do you think I’m doing something bad?”
“Yes. I just was afraid to say so”

At dinner, the same Mexican restaurant I wrote about in my recent post “Sam The Fireman,” it seems the staff all know us now. The waitress asked Michelle as we sat down “So, where is your sister? Is she coming? Is the fireman coming too?”

At a softball game this week a young 11 year old kid hit on my daughter K (13 years old). Here is their exchange:
Boy: Hey- what’s your name?
K: K
Boy: My name is B. So what you doing out here? It’s a nice night, isn’t it?
K: My sister has a softball game
Boy: So how old are you? And what do you do for a living?
K: I’m 13, and I guess I go to school for a living. I’m in 8th grade
Boy: I’m 11. I’m in 6th grade. So you wanna go somewhere? Walk around and hang out?
K: No thanks
This kid has guts. He’s going places.

Last night the whole family went to Kohls. Michelle had a $40 coupon that was expiring, so we decided to use it to buy a new coffee maker. I warned the DigitalRich Crew that we were absoltely NOT going to shop around the store and turn this into a normal "girl shopping" thing that would stretch into a 2 hour clothes-trying-on, home decor pondering night from H E double toothpicks. Under NO circumstances would we be shopping for ANYTHING ELSE other than the coffee maker, then we were out of there. We went straight to the coffee makers and I found nothing I liked. I did however buy a lovely pair of deep rich brown loafers with a slight lift and supple leather.

Today I mowed the lawn in sub-freezing temperature. 4 hours speeding along at 8MPH in the cold with winds of 20MPH hitting me in the face was enough to freeze me to my bones. I mowed from 11AM until 3PM and missed lunch while on the mower. I went inside after finishing and though I was starving, the most important thing to take care of was my frostbitten body and washing off the stench of mowed grass and mower exhaust. I turned the hot water all the way on and climbed into the shower. After 30 minutes I still felt cold and didn’t want to get out, but I was extremely hungry. Michelle came in the bathroom to get something and I asked her if she could make me a sandwich and bring it in to me in the shower. Yes, I told her, I was serious, and was sure I could keep one hand dry and the sandwich out of the hot water stream I refused to leave. She wouldn’t do it. She said it was too weird.






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