Story from my Father: A hidden advantage to a child on vacation

Danielle and I are going to be doing our first plane ride with Sienna this coming June. Certainly a seminal moment in any parent/family life. Which I was mentioning to my father on the phone last night.

I also mentioned that Sienna will remember NOTHING of the adventure. My father laughed before delving into a story about how he and my mother took my older brother Brian to Hawaii when he was 18 months old.

Since it was 1971 they actually took a series of small flights across the United States, staying at each place for a few days. They bounced their way all to Hawaii.

My father suggested I take Sienna to a beach-type place before sharing his wonderfully hidden fact about children. One that I sort of new, though not to such an extent.

Every morning my father took Brian to the beach while my mother slept in. Brian happily sat on the beach using his chubby hands to propel pieces of sand at passerbiers. People would laugh at the father/son combination. Stopping to chat about this amusing sight.

"You know who stopped the longest? Girls. They'd flock around and play with him. I didn't mind." He laughed one more time, "God, that was a good trip."

Parents. Always giving us advice on everything.

Wayne

The Subculture of a Good Series

Games of Thrones has been a best selling series for quite a few years now. I'm not going to look up the information on wikipedia since I'm in the middle of the fifth book and part of my life includes attempts to minimize being exposed to spoilers.

The series is so complex in its own way that when talking with people who have read more of the series you talk in what seems to be a weird code, What just happened in the chapter you're reading? or Who is the last person to die?

It isn't really a spoiler that people die in these books. That is part of the selling point of the book, to me as a fan, at least. Anyone can be offed at any time.

I read the books on the train - and hold it on the elevator at work - and it leaves me open to conversations.

How many times have you read the book?
That question is from a co-worker who was actually repeating the question that was asked to him by a stranger. It is Tolkien all over again (or Harry Potter) as it isn't that you finished a 500+ page book, it is how many times you've read the 500+ page - or in the case of GoT 800+ pages.

I'm impressed you're carrying that. It was too heavy for me so I bought the kindle.
The current book I'm lugging around, Book of Dragons, does weigh a good 8 pounds. I was an English major so I don't find the book that cumbersome, however the masses may disagree. I was surprised when the woman on the elevator made mention of the weight, though when she got off the elevator my friend then turned to me and asked, "Can I borrow that book? That girl was hot."

Yes, hot woman are impressed by nerd strength in this case.

Can I borrow the book?
Three different people have found out I'm reading the book and are interested in borrowing the first book. I've mentioned that the book is 800+ pages of font barely larger than Atlas Shrugged. Yet people are willing to read it because they're heard about it.

It is on TV
This one really messes people up since the first book of Game of Thrones was on HBO. The world had a collective heart attack when a main character was killed off. There was an out cry actually. Somehow the ending of a New York Times best selling book snuck by the popular collective. Actually I picture people who have read a book egging on the viewers to really enjoy the character just for the reaction.

You don't need to watch the show - and people understand
I will not watch the HBO series since I have images of the characters and don't want to ruin it by actors. It happened with Harry Potter so I'm making sure it will not happen with this. What is cool is that people completely understand.

That is rare.

There you have it though. A subculture where strangers talk to you about the book, cute girls are impressed with your muscles, and it bridges the divide between watching and no watching on TV.

Wayne

Ten Things I'll Tell My Daughter: Things said after being sent home from daycare

Actually this is the second time Sienna has been sent home sick. Since she is eight months into her daycare-hood this is actually a really small amount. Yesterday she was sent home with diarrhea though. Here are ten comments are related to it.

1. "I had to hose her down." Marcel the daycare giver on how bad Sienna's diarrhea was


2. "Evan threw up in the toys. Everyone is pretty sick." Marcel again, when I asked her if there is was something going around.


3. "If it is the middle of the night and she is covered in crap and throwup. DO NOT wake her up. I did that once and couldn't get Danielle back to sleep." Grandma Trudy upon hearing Sienna was sick


4. "Can I leave for work? You've got this, right?" My question to Danielle as she changed a Sienna covered diarrhea diaper


5. "I'll kill you." Danielle's look after I asked question 4


6. "Put her in a onsie. It's one extra layer between her ass and us having to clean the rug." Me as we dressed Sienna this morning


7. "I wouldn't drink that either." Me after I tried to get her the baby version of Gatorade


8. "You've now had three baths in 12 hours. I like your style." Me at Sienna's suddenly clean all the time


9. "We're watching cartoons together." Grandma Trudy on what she is doing while watching Sienna


10. "She ate a lot this morning. For a sick kid." Danielle on Sienna's appetite

We have to keep good humor about this. Otherwise we'll go crazy.

Wayne

Six Times Daddy Got Hurt, Maimed and Nearly Killed

"Daddy you have brain damage!" Sienna is going to utter those words, or some variant there within. She will probably tell me I don't recall being a teenager, never had any fun, and never did anything dangerous.

I pre-present my daughter with a list of Six Times Daddy Got Hurt, Maimed and Nearly Killed. Some were much closer than others, some I was okay by dumb luck and some were keeping a cool head.

Remarkably enough these are the times I remember off the top of my head and the list used to be ten. Only I can't remember four of them right now.

Guatemala
A case of mistaken identity led to a member of the Guatemalan military pointing his handgun at me. Judging by the adornment of his uniform I am pretty positive that he would have gotten off for shooting me. I am also glad I was carrying a copy of my U.S. passport with me at the time.

Sliding Down a Volcano
I tore my labrum, an injury so severe I later required surgery. Naturally I did not want surgery and as Danielle and I headed to Chile for an adventure vacation I received a cortisone shot so I could have a normal time. Part of the trip was climbing a snow and ice covered volcano. The only way down the volcano was to slide down an ice slide and use an ice-pick to stop yourself. This type of climb is dangerous enough that you are required to wear a helmet.

On the way down my shoulder gave out and I spun out of control since I couldn't stop by myself. What we had been told was to throw the ice pick if you slide out of control as you are likely to impale yourself. I threw the ice pick to the side and flipped over as I continued to slide. I then flipped again and found myself going head first and face first down the icy volcano. The cracking noise of ice meeting helmet echoed in my ears and my neck was being compressed on each hit.

I kept my head enough to flip back around and get my feet in front of me. I actually gained enough control that I stabilized. Still out of control I opened my legs enough to let snow in - hopefully creating friction to slow myself.

I distinctly remember that thought. The snow between my legs caused me to shoot off the ice slide and onto a more icy snowy area. I really have no idea how I was going to stopped right until my feet met some frozen volcanic ash.

My legs folded as the momentum was absorbed and for a moment my momentum caused me to stand up. For only a second and then I fell onto my back. I lay on my back, eyes tightly shut, unmoving as I tested various joins to see everything was still intact.

Amazingly enough everything was perfectly fine. Except I opened my eyes and couldn't see a damn thing. During my face plant my snow goggles had filled with snow. I sat up, took off the goggles and gave them a shake - they were cracked. I found myself in a field of frozen volcanic ash and took off my helmet.

Remarkably enough the helmet was scratched up, missing some point, yet perfectly in place. I looked down at my feet resenting again a large piece of ash. Really a small boulder. It was the perfect size for me to hit with my feet and stop me.

Now why doesn't Mommy ever tell this story. She has her own ski accident story that caused her to have shellshock and not being able to go up the volcano. Which is good since she might have had a heart attack watching me tumble and she was needed to take care of me later that night when my body temperature shot off the charts.

Hello, Mr. Tree
On a wet road in Framingham my car hydroplaned off a back road. I braced myself against the steering wheel, hit with enough impact that I broke the wheel, and out of the corner of my eye watched my friend Rob's head meet the windshield and create a wonderful spiderweb pattern as blood flowed. When the Police showed up they casually mentioned I couldn't have been speeding because it I was we'd both be dead.

Rafting
When I was nineteen years old I went whitewater rafting with Tio Brian and some of his college friends. Our raft flipped as we went over a small waterfalls. I actually got caught in the backwash of the small waterfall. I wasn't caught for more than a few seconds except I'm not Aquaman so I found the lack of breathing rather unpleasant.

The life jacket had enough floatation strength that it pulled me out of the backwash as I cycled through. Which is good since I'm not sure I could have executed the How-To-Escape-a-Waterfall-Backwash move (wait until the cycle pulls you to the bottom, plant your foot and push with all your might; in case you ever need it).

A Boat Trailer Falls On Me
As a six year old I loved hanging out near Nono while he worked. He was painting his 22 foot sailboat called The Wench while it was on its trailer. The trailer was balancing against a cinder block.

He must have pushed where he should have pulled because the boat pitched forward and OFF the cinder block. A piece of jagged metal drove into my leg...mostly since I was sitting under part of the trailer.

I remember Nono and Grandma arguing about whose turn it was to take me to the emergency room. This conversation took place as I watched a white towel wrapped around my cut slowly turn red. It only took six stitches to close the wound - one for each year.

That is Going to Leave a Scar
I was helping Tio Brian and Tia Sole move. It was a hot day and as I packed the moving truck I was standing on top of some packed boxes that turned out to be a really bad place to stand. I became dizzy, feel off, and a piece of metal sticking up from a desk sliced into my leg.

I grabbed my leg with my gloved hand, immediately flexed my toes to see if I had sliced a tendon (always test body parts before moving) and thankfully my toes reacted, I then limped to the back of the truck as I refused to look at the leg (never look at the cut as you could pass out).

"Dad!" I yelled. I will take a moment to say that whenever you are injured ALWAYS yell for the person with the most experience. This is usually the oldest person. Chances are they have seen something just as bad and will not panic.

Somehow Nono appeared, quite alarmed at the sound of my voice. "I cut myself," I said as I limped to the edge of the moving truck.

The story is actually funny as if you ask Tia Sole about the story she'll tell you about Tio Brian running around in circles on the lawn when he saw what happened and how two of her best towels were ruined.

The rest of the story explains a lot of how Nono raised his boys. Or explains something about Nono in general and where your sense of humor has its genesis.

Nono, Brian and I piled into the front of the Voyager van with Brian driving, me in passenger seat and Nono sitting almost on top of me while he helped apply pressure. Tio Brian started us toward the hospital and we seemed to hit every single bump. When we would hit a bump Nono would apply more pressure, thereby causing me the only actual pain at that time.

"Ow!" I said at about the fifth bump.

"It's going to hurt Wayne, that is a good sign." Nono's comment is actually true - it is when you're hurt and everything goes numb that you worry.

"Dad, I can take the pain of the cut it's your friggin weight that's killing me. You need to lose a few pounds," I said.

Nono burst out laughing and Tio Brian smiled.

We got to the hospital, I was checked in at the same time that someone who had severed his finger tip came in. When the hospital workers' saw I wasn't going to bleed to death they propped me up - bare ass except for the hospital gown - over a bedpan type device while they went to sew the guys finger on.

Since I wasn't in actual pain I figured the cut wasn't that bad. Not a good idea. I could easily see the muscle of my leg - it looked exactly like a filleted fish and THAT was the point where my face became ashen. Which Nono noticed.

"Don't look, you moron," he said. I then noticed my blood all over his hands, which he also looked down at, "I'm never going to be able to go the butcher again," he added.

Tio Brian joined us and saw that I'd live Nono looked at him and said, "Well, Wayne isn't going anywhere. I guess we should go back and finish packing you up."

Then yes, Nono and Tio Brian left me alone in the hospital bare ass naked with my rear in the air.

In Conclusion
So when I give you advice of carry a copy of your passport, don't speed on wet rules, don't play under boat trailers, don't help family members move, be careful sliding down volcanoes and white water rafting you know why. I promise I won't leave you in the hospital though - even if I am helping someone move.

Wayne

Random Run ins with People in My New York Apartments

Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam.

It sounds like someone was trying to break into our apartment by knocking on our door approximately 3,000 times in a ten second span. I was in our living room on our couch doing my impression of a fat, tired man laying on a couch - performing the part well actually - having just gotten a very cranky Sienna off to sleep. Danielle looked up our kitchen table where she was enjoying her Sunday ritual of "squeezing in the reading of the New York Times when I get a chance."

"Stop that!" I yelled it as I moved from the couch toward the living room door. It wasn't a particularly deranged knocking of the door - if you have ever seen Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory knock on his neighbors door you'll get the idea - and I was mostly concerned that the fool pounded would wake up my child.

However I'm not an idiot either. I looked through the peep hole.

There was a young 20-something in a tuxedo standing at my doorway. In the grand scheme of life looked like someone had tied four twigs together, glued four cotton balls to his head and called it a human being. I shall call him Stick Boy at this point.

I whipped open the door and he was rather surprised to see, well, ME. "What the hell are you doing?"

Stick Boy took a step backward and immediately raised his hands into a mea-culpa. "I'msosorry. I thoughtthiswasmyfriendsapartment.YoumustthinkI'manidiot. I'msorry."

I looked down onto the street and I was a few of Stick Boy's friends by an SUV. One guy, two women, and all of them dressed for some sort of social event.

"What are you doing?" Stick Boy's male friend yelled up. Concerned over what his buddy had seemingly gotten himself into.

"I thought this was your apartment!" Stick Boy yelled back. "I'manidiot," Stick Boy repeated. Backing further away.

"Yes, you are," I said.

Stick Boy stepped through our open outside door - we have two sets of doors, I still have no idea how he got through the first set.

"My daughter is asleep, if you woke her up..." I left it trail off as Stick Boy made his way through the door. I shut it behind him, locked it, and listened as his friend dressed him down for being a moron.

Once inside Danielle and I got to talking about random New York run ins with apartments. Stick Boy isn't even the top five. Living in New York you just run into weird stuff living in apartments, or involved with apartments.

Here are the rest.

The Avatar People
Danielle and I agreed on the price for our Butler Street apartment as had one last meeting left: meet the landlords. Really, a perfunctory moment designed to make sure everyone isn't crazy. As we sat in the real estate office on Smith Street across from our landlords and the real estate agent (who was licking his lips at the check HE was about to receive) about to put pen onto paper...two people on stilts dressed as the blue creatures from avatar appeared.

They pressed their hands and faces to the window of the real estate office and bellowed, "Don't sign the lease! Don't sign."

We still signed. No alien creatures were keeping us from a good piece of real estate.

The Kiddie Pool
I lived in on the sixth floor of a six floor in the East Village during the late 90s. It was a two bedroom apartment and legendary among my friends for its lack of cleanliness.

One fine miserably hot summer evening I was awoken at 2 AM by some loud crashed above my living room. As plaster fell around me I was concerned that there was (a) a possible murder taking place and (b) I was going to get no sleep.

I threw on some shorts, a t-shirt, grabbed my cellphone, headed to the roof, whipped open the metal doorway going to the roof. I would like to pause the story here to point out that this is the type of behavior you do in your 20s - walking to a roof where a crime might be taking place - yeah, I would rethink that (literally) when I reached my 30s.

Story onward.

I whipped open the metal doorway and saw two young men in their early 20s dressed only in tightie whitey underwear jumping up-and-down in a kiddie pool.

"Hey!" I have no idea why I yelled. Probably the lesser known of the fight-flight-scream in shock reaction.

"Hey man!" one of them yelled.

"You guys are caving in my living room!" Like alcohol being consumed, pure shock leads to the truth.

"Sorry about that," the second guy said, "it's hot and we needed to unwind." He took a cigarette out of -- I don't even know where that cigarette came from -- and lit it.

"It's all good. Just stop jumping."

"Thanks. Hey, you want to join us?" The question came from guy number one.

There are many things I will attest to having tried in my life. Frollicking around on an East Village roof in a kiddie pool with two men in their tightie whities is not one of them.

The Dog
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Once again I was concerned about my East Village roof caving in as something was taking place. Once again I went to investigate.

As I opened the metal door I was nearly run over by a dog. Forty pounds of muscle, sinew, and hanging tongue coming straight for me. The dog got to within inches from me and with the grace of gazelle performed a hairpin turn while scooping up a tennis ball - that I certainly had not seen - with its sharp-I-can-eat-you teeth.

Across the roof was my neighbor Jason.

"Sorry about that," Jason said as the dog sprinted back to him, dropped the ball, and headed back out for another pass. "He is a stray and we took him home. We don't have a leash though and he needed some exercise. Did his running disturb you?"

Just a bit Jason. Just a bit.

(Quick add on. Scudder had a habit of walking out of the apartment when I would get home. Jason and his wife's apartment were adjacent to mine. One day as Scudder stepped out Jason's door open, Scudder stepped toward Jason's apartment and found himself nose-to-nose with the dog. Scudder never tried to sneak out again).

Say Nothing
When I lived in Cheever Placer in Brooklyn, once again a legendary apartment due to its tilt. Not a slight tilt either, I could sit in a corner of my living room, roll a ball at an angle and it would come back to me in seconds.

A married couple lived in a building - he an ex-con and she a rather violent probably heading for jail at some point in her life. They were very nice people though, except for when they fought. Terrible. Loud. Violent fights. The police were called several times by the ex-con's mother (who also lived in the building.)

One night I was coming home and heard them screaming at the top of their lungs. They were on the 2nd floor and I was on the 4th floor of the walkup and as I headed up the stairs I came to the unfortunate conclusion that their door was open.

The two of them were in the doorway, in plain sight, slapping away at each and that is when they saw me. Everyone stopped and stared at each other. The fight-flight-scream in shock instinct gained another new level of "say nothing."

The ex-con turned to his girlfriend and said, "Well now EVERYONE in the apartment knows how stupid you are!" He then slammed the door.

I continued on to my apartment. Really, what would you have done?

Yeah, living in New York - and anywhere really, I once opened the front door to the house in Framingham naked because religious people were bothering me - always has an adventure or two. Random run ins with apartments.

I am sure Sienna will come up with her own stories and adventures.

Wayne

About My Nonny...

Someday Sienna is going to ask about her grandparents - or if she is anything like me her greatgrandparents. In honor of Magic Johnson announcing he was HIV positive 20 years ago and a coincidence I give the Nonny post.

I ended up thinking about Nonny*, my paternal grandmother a couple of times in the last two days. Yesterday it was when Danielle and I were discussing Grandparents naming - my father goes by Nono, my stepmother goes by Nona, and my mother-in-law will go by, according to her, "whatever Sienna wants to call her." This morning my co-worker John and I got onto the subjects of old school toughness and grandmother's**. Ergo, you get the Nonny entry.

My Nonny was an Italian woman disguised as a block of flesh measuring 4 foot 6 high by 4 foot 6 round. I never recall seeing her in anything except a black dress, white shirt, thick glasses, and unmoving black curly hair - though pictures show her with a occasional bit of color. She had made a living as a seamstress, which accounted for her incredibly strong fingers and hands. If she grabbed you she GRABBED you and there was no way she was letting go until she wanted to. She was old school in how she dispensed love, justice, and wisdom.

By the time my brother and I were old enough for her to have a noticeable impact on our life, she had been tempered by numerous other grandchildren - or at least that is what we are TOLD. It is a frightening concept to image her at the height of her kickassness powers. She spent about a third of a year living with us - spreading her love between ourselves and various other family members the other two thirds of the year. After my Mother died she ended up getting an apartment about half a mile away from us.

Food is Love...
Like all Italian grandmothers my earliest memories of Nonny involve food. Not in one of those cooking all day events, or homemade sauces, or any family recipe secrets - my memories involve pizza. Specifically pepperoni pizza from Centre Pizza in Framingham. If Nonny was coming over we got pizza. This was a HUGE deal as Papa Gino's was actually closer and cheaper, though Nonny knew we liked the more expensive Centre pizza and the tiny pieces of pepperoni dotting the salty cheese which sat on a field of spicy goodness.

We've Heard So Much About You...
As I already mentioned my brother and I had heard seemingly thousands of Nonny stories. Her old school ways came from being a street smart Bostonian with a love that melded with pride in the form of my two Aunts - Linda and Anne, and her baby boy my father Joey. By the time my father was six Grandpa** was no longer in the picture, which effectively left Nonny as a single parent during the 40s & 50s.

A single parent resulting in a thousand stories. Here are my favorite all-time "Don't Mess With My Nonny Stories."

A Plate of Spaghetti
Nonny was watching my cousin Ricky and asked him what he wanted for dinner. She made him a plate of spaghetti and put it in front of him. "I don't want THIS" Ricky said. Wordlessly she dumped the plate of spaghetti over Ricky's head.

The Tree v Nonny
Nonny was driving her car and slid off the road straight into a telephone pole. The pole fell onto her car roof, crushed it inward, leaving her bloodied and unable to move. She looked ratched unconscious when the paramedics showed up. One of them said, "We have a big one in here." Without opening her eyes she replied, "When you get those pole off me I'm kicking your ass."


Nonny & Boyfriend's
My Aunt Linda's boyfriend Phil was over and in the forbidden upstairs room. Specifically the bedroom. Which is when my Nonny arrived and saw him on her bed. She ran across the room and JUMPED onto him, landing a perfect form body splash. She looked like a fullback hitting the hole and reportedly got good air on the jump. She then chased Phil out of the room, bouncing him down the hallway for being where he was not supposed to be.

No Sympathy for Your Dumb Actions
Nonny was babysitting my brother and I when I was about ten years old. I loved black olives. It was my favorite food in the world and we always had 24 ounce cans of olives in the house. I asked my Nonny if I could have some, she said yes - except not too many - and left me to my own devices. I then ate the ENTIRE can.

Then I drank the remaining olive juice.

Soon after I threw up olive and olive juice all over my bedroom floor - I can still picture the tiny chunks of olives sitting on the wood floor our cat Smokey walking over the remains, giving one good sniff and then sprinting out the room. In tears I ran to Nonny and asked her to make me feel better AND clean it up. "You Son of a Bitch, clean up the mess. I told you not to do it." She then handed me paper towels.

Now, by now stretch of the imagination was Nonny mean. She was quite loving. When my mother died she gave me some practical words of wisdom, "Your mother is dead. It's done. I'm old. You have to help take care of your father."

Practical. To the point.

She had just come up from a different place and really was of a generation where she wanted and needed her children to do a bit better than she did.

Her Practicality on Education...
My mother's family disowned her for a while since she was Jewish and married a Catholic. Very Romeo & Juliet - though without all the death. I once asked my father how Nonny had reacted - seeing as how she was a hardcore Catholic. My father told me that she actually didn't care as long as it didn't interfere with his graduate school education. All she cared was that he did well in school. When my brother was born and my Nana and Grandpa (the Jewish side of the grandparents) heard he would be raised Jewish all was forgiven. Knowing my Nonny, she probably figured she already had enough Catholic grand children anyway.

She was Street Smart & Protective...
Having heard about the street smart and protective stories I actually got to see it in action one particular time. I was goofing around in my driveway with my friend John and I had a fold up knife in my front pocket. All of a sudden from a window overlooking the driveway came a booming voice, "Wayne, get up here!" "What? No. We're going out." "Up here now!" "I said--" "Up.Now.John, go home."

Ticked off I went into the house. She greeted me with, "Is someone bothering you? Why do you have that knife?"

She had seen the outline of the knife in my pocket. She threatened bodily harm to whoever was bothering me. No cops. No questions. Just a name. "No one, is bugging me, Nonny." She looked through me to see if I was lying and when she saw I wasn't, her hand shot out and w

ithin half a second she had me off the ground and was shaking me like a rag doll. "Don't be stupid. You carry a knife and you'll find trouble!"

She took the knife from me and tossed me out of the room. I STILL don't know how she was the outline.

She Respected Courage...
My friends were terrified of Nonny. She could intimidate without trying. One day John wanted to play with me and couldn't find me at home. He then rode his bike to my Nonny's apartment to see if I was there. I wasn't. I thought she would be mad that he went there. Instead of she loved it, thinking he was respectful enough to go there. John is the only friend she would actively ask about and I think it made her doubly happy when she found out his parents were first generation from Scotland. She would always ask, "Is that, Son of a Bitch John coming over?"

Ah Yes, Son of a Bitch...
That was a way of saying she liked someone. You were a "son of a bitch" and somehow it made the person smile. In the days before political correctness she had a mouth on her that wasn't even offensive since every adult I knew about her talked the exact same way. I can't even repeat the words in this blog.

I do know that she gave it was well as she took it.

She was always "Ma" though...
Parents have a way of reducing you to a six-year-old child and my father was no exception as he always said, "Ma" in a thick Bostonian accent that was a badge of honor from growing up in the city. Oddly enough other than his sisters I NEVER heard anyone refers to parents as "Ma" - always Mom or Mommy. Coincidentally no one calls my father Joey - only Nonny and her own part-Boston accent and part-old country accent managing to chew up the word and spit it out as seven syllables.

Yes, Nonny was a tough old bag.

Tough enough that she was declared dead. Twice.

Last Rites the First Time
During an operation to remove a brain tumor she received last rites. She survived. The Doctor declared that she had worn him out and that the tumor was SOFTBALL sized. Which admitted he would not have tried to remove if he had known it was so large.

Last Rites the Second Time
As my Nonny grew old she (reluctantly) was put in a Nursing-type hold in Fitchburg and as she grew weaker a hospital. Looking way too skinny and her skin seemingly translucent and looking like a wrinkling overcoat her heart stopped. As they worked to revive her she received last rites. She survived. Again. When told about it, she muttered the question, "Again?"

Coincidentally my Aunt Anne was in the room BOTH times she was received last rites.

A Final Goodbye...
After the second last rites Nonny was so sick that he little baby Joey was called back from the Peace Corp. She ticked HERSELF off by living and becoming healthily enough that she finally told my father to go away. Among the final words were, ""Don't have a funeral for me. I've inconvenienced you enough and you have a life to live."

She died several months later. There was no funeral. Only the memories of a Nonny who loved her family and lived life to the fullest. She also made me smile.

My favorite all time Nonny comments...

• "Hitting a child is fine. Hitting a kid a lot is not-so-fine. You gotta know the difference."


• "I want you to be happy. If you marry a Jew that is okay. (Long pause) Though if you marry a Christian that'd be better."


• "Jesus died for your sins. If you went to Church you'd understand that. Though the bagels are good at temple."


• "I hope you get all your mother's looks. Not her driving though. She was a terrible driver."


• "Joey, you're my baby and I'll always love you. You're getting fat though."


• On my father's girlfriend Robin moving in with us, "An Italian? These kids are Jewish - she better raise 'em that way."


• On my friend Neal, "Every parent thinks his kid is special. His are wrong."


• On me helping my brother with his paper route at age nine, "Go to school or this will be your job forever."


• Upon meeting Robert Parish in a line a supermarket, "You're tall. You're black. You must be a Celtic. They don't allow other blacks in Boston."

What Does Magic Johnson have to do with all of this?

1991. The world was changing and Magic Johnson just quit playing basketball due to HIV. Nonny comes up to me, "Hey, Wayne, about sex." Me, "uhhhhhhhh." Really, how do you react when your sixty plus your old Nonny comes up to discuss sex. "You know Magic - right? Well, he got the AIDS. If he can get the AIDS you can get it. Wear a condom." 20 years later I STILL don't know how to reply to that.

Sienna. That is your greatgrandmother. The legendary Nonny.

Wayne--

* Interestingly enough Nonny is spelled Nonni and means "grandparents" or "grandfather" in Italian. I have no idea why we called her Nonny. We just did.
** John's family is from China and as a fourteen year old girl John's grandmother used to sneak food into the Japanese prison camps.
*** Depending on the story Grandpa either died of consumption when my father was six or Nonny threw him out of the house for being an alcoholic and he was considered "dead."

Ten Things I'll Tell My Daughter: My Top 10 Video Games

Yeah. I'm loving lists right now. Everyone loves lists. Again, in no particular order I introduce Sienna to video games that Daddy love(s/d).

1. Civilization Revolution My love affair with this game follows the same path as addiction. My friend Mike introduced me to it, my mother-in-law bought me a copy, and I can't stop playing it. I've tried. Lord how I've tried. As a one and two month old Sienna used to sit on my lap and I would explain historical concepts to her using this game.


2. Street Fighter 2 I played this game way too much in High School and was good - then I started hanging out with the Asian kids in the game center at UMass and they took my game to a whole new level. I'm not being racist people, there were ten Asian kids who used to surround the Street Fighter 2 game in the center and beat the heck out of non-Asians (in the game), battle to draws until the final round at which point they would play for real and for some reason accepted me as one of their own.


3. Tetris To this day I am upset that my friend Dennis can beat me at this game. Everyone else I can take. Not Dennis though.


4. Billy Beane Baseball. Danielle was a reporter when she got a test copy of this game for review. I miss her being a reporter as I would free books and games all the time. This game let me be a GM. Sure the AI was flawed and it took me a short time to game the system. Still. I loved it. Apparently I was the only one though.


5. Rampart Someday someone will come up with a console that will allow this game to be a popular home game on the Xbox. It involved a track ball, building castles, and blowing up the enemy.


6. Madden Franchise mode was the greatest invention ever. Ever. EVER!


7. Tecmo Bowl I am convinced that without this game all other sports games would not have come to pass. You can have hours of conversations to this day about what picking each team meant as some sort of reflection of your personality.


8. Paper Boy Danielle destroys me in this game so it makes the list.


9. Ms Pac Man Danielle beat me in this game the first time we ever played. I claim it was because I was outdrinking her with a 2-to-1 ratio in New Orleans. In the subsequent rematch I had her outdrink me by a 2-to-1 ratio (also in New Orleans) and I won. That is correct. I got my future wife drunk so I could beat her in a video game.


10. Legend of Zelda Oh my God did my friends and I take this game seriously. To this day I hear the music and do a combined twitch/smile.


11. (Freebie) Contra I have already talked about this game.

There you have it. Video game dork list.

Wayne

Ten Things That Weren't Cool 20 Years Ago That Are Now

At some point I am going to have to explain cool/uncool/geek/dork/nerd to Sienna. Luckily I have some insight into this subject.

Twenty years I was what was considered a dork or geek. I played chess during lunch breaks and in the morning in the band room during High School, played Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, and oh so much more. What kept me from getting any beatings was that I was also a varsity wrestler. Popular? Good lord, no. Enemies? Not really. Man was I uncool though - at least objectively speaking. Amazingly enough almost everything my friends and I were into in High School are now...well...you'll see.

1. Liking comic books. Oh man were you considered a geek if you collected and read comic books in High School. Now it is a multi-billion dollar industry. Though if you point out how a movie is nothing like the comic book then...you are a geek again. I was reminded of this when the Rocketeer was on the other night and I remembered waaaaaay too much of that move than should be allowed.
   



2. Vampires. A sexy vampire killing people? Man what sort of weird fantasy were you into? Oh, it is called Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Naturally. Or un-naturally.
   



3. Ghosts. If you even said you liked or believed in ghosts then you got a really strange look. Now you can watch Ghost Hunters, Haunted History, or a ton of other ghost movies on tv. I look forward to a show about Atlantis in the new 20 years.
   



4. Statistics. Typical Boston conversation circa 1986. "Wade Boggs is terrible!" "Why? He gets on base all the time?" "He doesn't hit home runs like Jim Rice. He isn't a good enough hitter." "He gets on base 4 out of 10 times. Isn't the point to get on base?" "NO IT'S TO HIT HOME RUNS!" I blame this on Boston not sending kids to school during the 1970s integration crisis. It wasn't much better in 1991 either.
   



5. Non-sports Video Games. Another past time that was for losers or dorks. Say the following to a lot people over 35: up, down, up, down, left, right, left, right, a, b, a, b, select start. If they smile they are your friend, if they frown they are the enemy.
   



6. Flannel. Unless you were into grunge. Then it was okay. This comes back once every twenty years.
   



7. Men Being Sensitive. This one comes in and out of vogue. Back in the day it was SNAG - sensitive new age guy. Or as I would say, "Likely to be upset after Bambi's mom gets shot."
   



8. Saving Money. Using credit cards and accumulating debt seemed to be cool for a while. Heck, you could always pay it later. Couldn't afford it? That is okay there is nothing like an 18% interest! Yes, it sort of looks ridiculous when one writes in out. I saved money so I could go to movies with my friends and buy comic books.
   



9. Video cameras. The only people who used video cameras were in the AV Club. Now everyone has a video camera.
   



10. Diaries/Journal. If you told someone you had a diary 20 years ago they would have laughed at you and wondered why you would admit to such personal information. With blogs, facebook, twitter, whatever-social-network-device-du-jour it is now more common for people to give you a look if you are NOT giving out some sort of personal information.
    



11. (Freebie) Dial up computing. I used to dial in to bulletin board systems on a 1200 baud modem and play Dungeons & Dragons. Even better I was a Dungeon Master for the online version. That is when I wasn't playing Space Wars. I even had a 300 baud connection to an 800 number for the Wall Street Journal for stock quotes. I wish I had taken better advantage of THAT.

As I look at an old copy of a travel journal, I see it talks about missing playing Street Fighter 2 and reading comic books with my buddies during the summer of 1991 as I get ready for college. I've given my copy of Bambi to a friends younger sister in exchange for the use of video camera and with money I saved at my job I bought a copy of a ShadowRun - a role playing game that involves vampires and ghosts. I haven't bought my first Bill James book - though I'll learn about him soon in a newsgroup about baseball - and it'll be nearly a year before a horrified girlfriend buys me my first flannel shirt - though that is only after I . I guess that makes me 20% cool and only 80% uncool.

Now excuse me while I figure out what I am doing uncool today so I can be ahead of the curve...

Wayne

Ten Things I'll Tell My Daughter: Tips for Living a Happier Life

Ten little tips for living a happier life.

Some of these are from books, some from friends, some from enemies, and some I have just figured out on my own.

In no particular order.

1. Make a loan like you never expect the money back. It takes the pressure off yourself and will save a friendship or two at some point.
   


2. If you accept a loan, make a schedule and pay it back accordingly. It takes the pressure off yourself and will save a friendship or two at some point.
   


3. Pick up the bill if you have the means and the other person doesn't. I'm not talking about a weekend in France or something (unless it is your Mom & me, then you pay) I'm talking about if you're at dinner or drinks, or a baseball game. I learned this from someone I did not like very much at the time named Mike, who was a Graduate Assistant. I was with the UMass Hoop Band in Atlanta for the Sweet Sixteen and Mike was with us, we hit the hotel bar, and learned why you should never drink at the hotel bar. We all blew through our weekend per diem and were figuring out where the nearest ATM was Mike took out his credit card to cover the bill. We offered to pay him back and he hit us with these words of wisdom, "Sometimes you'll have the money, sometimes you won't. If you have the money and end up picking up the bill - just do it and don't bitch about it. Because someone will do it for you too."
   


4. Learn to drink your coffee black. Your Great Uncle Bill got me with this one. I was at his house and he offered me a cup of coffee, I asked from milk and sugar. "
   
   Always going to have milk around? Or sugar? Or even a leaf to flavor it?" He managed to spit out the questions rapid fire while simulatenously making it the longest question ever.
   
   Before I could figure out the reply, he gave me his version of the punchline, "Learn to drink coffee black. You never know what you will have but you'll always be able to drink what you've got."
   


5. If you like the price stop negotiating. Yes you might be able to get a dollar or two more -- you might also lose a pretty good deal. I've done both.
   


6. All major purchases should be made during off-season sales, or when you do not need it. Why? You will always get a better price. Even minor purchases should be made during off season times. You know some of those stuffed animals you liked so much as a child? Garage sales, once through the washing machine, hand to child. You're welcome.
   


7. Buy your own drinks at a bar. Well, unless you are at a corporate event and the company is paying for it. Yes, as a woman will be able to get guys to buy you drink and I'll have Danielle do a guest posting on why pay for your own drinks. Conversely, offer to buy a guy a drink. We like this.
   


8. Never argue when you are hungry. Nothing good will come of this other than instead of being hungry you're going to be hungry AND angry.
   


9. Travel as much as you can. Whether it is out of the country, or a weekend trip by car, get out and see as much of the world as you can. You never know what you might learn. Or find at a garage sale.
   


10. Never wear a pink hat to a baseball game. I cannot mention this enough.
    


11. (Freebie!) Do something stupid. You're going to do it anyway so I might as well encourage it. This is different than dumb. Dumb is drunk driving. Stupid is doing tequila shots and dancing on the bar.

Now go live your life, child.

Wayne

Ten Things I'll Tell My Daughter About Baseball Stadiums

As baseball stadiums are seemingly replaced faster than, well, whatever in your life that has frequent replacing for no reason whatsoever I'm not sure I can tell Sienna too much about what stadiums to visit. However there are a few bits of tid (see what I did there?) I can share with her to make her stadium viewing pleasurable that much more pleasurable.

1. No pink hats. Ever. Even if it is free. I will repeat this in my blog entries.
   


2. Try the local cuisine and alcohols. In Chicago it is drink the Old Style. In Baltimore go the harbor and eat a bunch of crabs then go to the stadium and visit Boog Powell's.
   


3. A free ticket is a good ticket. Always. Cancel your plans and go to the game - always worth it. The only exceptions: wedding, taking care of your baby daughter, or late Sunday night games.


4. Sit as close as you can or as far away as you can. You either want a really good view or to hang out with the diehard fans. The closer you get to the field the less likely you are to find a diehard fan.


5. Visit the following stadiums at least once: Fenway Park, Wrigley Field, Citi Field, Yankee Stadium, and Camden Yards. The coincidence that those are the fields I have visited are merely that. Coincidence.


6. Okay, number five is not a coincidence.


7. Ushers and food delivery people accept bribes. This is important if you want to move up in a section or want food or alcohol delivered and don't have in seat service.


8. Go with your friends. Always a chance to get some fresh air.


9. Go to at least one opening day, one home run derby, and one playoff game.
   


10. All of these rules may be ignored if it is cold out. Baseball is not meant to be in the cold unless it is the playoffs or World Series. In that case bundle up like you are going to a football game.

And that is what Sienna needs to know about baseball stadiums right now. Okay, number 10 is a stretch as far as stadiums. Same with number 9. Hey, I ain't perfect.

Just go to the games.

Wayne

A Randomly (Needed) Great Day in Brooklyn

"He is married to someone in the Village People."

I found out that someone I helped hire last year is married to someone in the Village People. When that is only the SECOND strangest experience you have in a week, chances are you are going to need a weekend day to relax.

Danielle and I promised each other that we'd have one day exclusively to ourselves to spend with Sienna every weekend. Or at least really really try. The result is we had the type of day that is similar to so many other days we'll have in our lives. The type of day where, at the end of the day, you are just smiling at everyone and in a really good mood. The type of day that you forget about two days later - not because of any particular event, only because the day was consistently fun.

What did we do? We had no plan other than to do minimal chores.

Slept late (as late as one does with a child), Danielle read the newspaper (a real live newspaper!), I made coffee and then played Civilization, we fed Sienna when she woke up, we put Sienna in her stroller and took her around Brooklyn, we fed Sienna, we went to brunch (sitting Sienna on the table, which is my favorite new game), we fed Sienna some more, then we went around to stoop sales and a huge flea market. We came home. Danielle and Sienna took a nap while I finished my Civilization game. Then we all went back out, picked up some groceries, came home, fed Sienna again (I may have missed Sienna eating at some point), made dinner, fed Sienna and put her to bed.

It was really just a great day of all of us together. The kind of day I am happy I have blogged about since someday Sienna will see this and know sometimes the simple pleasures are the best pleasures.

Wayne

Things I'll Tell My Daughter: What Mommy & Daddy Watched on TV

It is important to explain to Sienna what Mommy & Daddy were watching in 2011. Okay, not really. I just wanted to review the shows in our DVR and I like lists. Unfortunately she will use this list against us in the year 2018 takes place.

ME: Sienna, how can you watch this? It's terrible.

SIENNA: You used to watch HIMYM and it was even worse. Remember that thing - what was it called? A blig you posted on! Oh no it was a BLOG. Whatdoesthatevenmean, Dad?!

Sienna then uses her subcutaneous chip to take over the holo-tv and shows me this entry.

1. Big Bang Theory. A+. Another show that is defying the tradition of sitcoms of peaking, failing when it attempts character growth, and then returning to the tried and true formula. BBT has added two really strong female characters the last two years, an antagonist the form of another female character, and made it that everyone is generally likable. It is like Chuck Lorre figured out that throwing more female characters into a show about how guys reacted to females in the first place might give more humor. That he made the female characters likable is why it works. The rest of the world should take note.
   


2. Friday Night Lights. In its final season this continues to be an A+ show. Or I should say returned to being an A+ show after an A+ first season, an abomination of a second season and a third season that I'd generously call a C. Some PHd student should write a dissertation on how this show managed to make a comeback after overturning most of the cast and becoming 8 million degrees of awesomess. Naturally it is being canceled after this season.
   


3. Grey's Anatomy. A. After two really down season this show suddenly became awesome again. Its secret: it stopped focusing on Meredith. She is a victim of bad writing, so I only half blame her. This show could just do scenes with Sara Ramirez and Sandra Oh and I'd be eternally satisfied.
   


4. The Office. B. Very interested to see what happens now that the main character is gone. Another standby favorite that makes me smile at least three times an episode.
   


5. 30 Rock. B. I like this show. Though I can't really tell you anything that happened this season. Oh yes I can. Matt Damon was on as a pilot. Alec Baldwin also had a baby and somehow the show did not jump the shark.
   


6. Shameless. A-. Every now and then a show comes out of nowhere and catches you by surprise. Anything could happen on this show and I would completely believe it. From teenage sex addicts, to car thieves, to an opening credits that makes you go, Wait, what was that?
   


7. WWE - RAW. C. Hit or miss - though easily fast forwardable. Danielle has her favorites (John Cena and Randy Orton) and I have my favorites (anyone trying to take out Cena or Orton).
   


8. Jersey Shore. A+ (anything without Ron & Sammie) F (anything with Ron & Sammie). I will split the difference and give a C- due to too much of F and not enough of A+. A guilty pleasure. Heck I won't even call it guilty. You have to celebrate what happens and hope your daughter never ends up on this show or any other MTV reality show. Seriously - would I rather have Sienna become a stripper or being on an MTV show? I have asked other parents at work this very question and nobody answers it other than to turn a really weird color.
   


9. Glee. D. After a terrible season finale which was preceded by some really bad and horrible episodes I have to question why we bother with this show. It pretty much killed the goodwill it gained from having John Stamos on a bunch of episodes and Brit Brit OWNING every single scene she is in.
   


10. How I Met Your Mother. D. We watch this show out of habit. A habit that is likely to end as there are still two more seasons to go of the show before we meet the mother. I used to be able to relate to the people on this show. I can also tell Ted why he hasn't met his mother: he is a needy, whiny, creepy, baby.

There you have it. What Danielle and I were watching the year Sienna was born.

Wayne

Ten Things I'll Tell My Daughter About WWE Wrestling at MSG

Danielle has an autographed picture of John Cena in her at office. For a gift I got her the John Cena ringtone and she grins like the cheshire cat whenever someone calls her. I mention these since whenever I told people we were going to watch Raw at Madison Square Garden the day after Christmas they wanted to know how I could make my pregnant wife suffer so.

Suffer? She was the one who bought the tickets and she is the one who chose to get us third row seats. Oh, did I mention she wrote a job into our wedding vows about watching pro wrestling together?

Top ten things/memories/whatevers from last night at Madison Square Garden...during a blizzard.

1. I finally bought an I'm Awesome! Miz t-shirt. I have never ever owned a wrestling t-shirt before. Danielle doesn't like the new style of John Cena t-shirts & said she'd feel like a traitor for buying a much cooler Randy Orton t-shirt since there was supposed to be a fatal four way that night
2. The place was 57% full - most of Long Island couldn't get in since train service had already been suspended. Despite being a house show it was still loud.
3. John Cena fans emit a high pitched shriek equivalent to the noise a dolphin makes.
   
4. When the steel cage was being erected (final match was changed from a fatal four way to Cena v Barrett) I managed to engage referee Charles Robinson in a short conversation. I haven't seen Danielle that impressed with me in a long time.
5. I was one of few people cheering for the Miz. Actually the guy in front of us turned to me and as he grinned said, "So you're that guy, huh?"
6. There were a lot of teenage girls decked out in Cena Nation gear. I say this since I am now much more aware of what teenagers wear. At least it isn't pink.
7. Danielle now refuses to sit anywhere except way up front now.
8. The woman sitting next to us knew all the words to Randy Orton's "I hear voices" song. I was mildly impressed yet fearful
9. The following are impressive finishers live: the Cobra, Starship Pain, and the Bella Twins. Not as impressive: The Throwback and the RKO. That may be the geakiest sentence in a while for me
10. When people wonder WHY you would go to pro wrestling you should take them. It takes the spectacle of a broadway show, tosses in some rock concert, mixes in with the athletics of a football game and sprinkles with the passion of a your team being down but having the ball for the final play.

Did we "brave" a blizzard to go. Absolutely. Did we have to trudge back through snow to get home? Absolutely. Would we do it again? Positively.

Ten Things I'll Tell My Daughter About the Blizzard of '10

For once there is a real live blizzard outside. Usually there is a little snow on the ground and New Yorkers panic. I say New Yorkers in the sense of Manhattan and the surrounding areas; people upstate, such as Buffalo, consider this a minor dusting.

1. Trudging through this to watch pro wrestling from the third row at Madison Square Garden. It was awesome!
   
2. The face plant the Chinese food delivery guy did on Butler street when his BMX bike skidded and lost control. He was wearing a helmet - which is why the story is funny. Yes I did ask him if he was okay.
   
3. Correspondence between my friend Ken and I last night.
   
   Me: Heading to WWE at Msg!
   Ken: But it's a blizzard
   Me: 22 ton F train v 6 inches snow. F train wins!
   
   The F train stopped running at 11 PM as Danielle and I were on our way home. Snow wins!
   
4. Danielle and I jumping into snow banks and snow drifts to avoid cars in the road as we trudged from Burrough Hall.
   
5. Listening to the AC covers barely keep the snow out - we had put on the last AC cover that day
6. Work pro-actively telling us to work from home home
7. Climbing into the bathtub to strip off my snow covered clothes when we got home
8. Being happy to live in an apartment complex and not having to shovel
9. Feeling really bad for the two parents who had a bunch of luggage and two small children when the F train was canceled. I hope the R train got them where they were going.
10. Being really happy that we went to the garden since I get to wear my I'm Awesome! Miz t-shirt and Danielle got to grin like a small child when Cena came out.

Yeah, we're the people who celebrate going out in the weather like this. Such is life.

Ten Things I'll Teach My Daughter about Editing

I'm going to teach unborn baby daughter about editing? Nah, I'm going to teach her about linking to other people's work when they write something that sums up my own feelings.

In this case from @ChuckWendig.

In this case, http://terribleminds.com/ramble/2010/12/06/why-youre-a-sucky-editor/

I'm not even giving a ten things list on this one. Chuck already took care of it. No really. There are ten items in the list & about a million great thoughts.

Really it doesn't matter if you're a screenwriter, blogger, white paper writer, or just a general human being. To me it applies to anyone who ever has to write a critical paper in his or her life.

Have a nice day.

Ten Things I'll Teach My Daughter About Ribs

As I continue the life lessons for Unborn Baby Girl it's time to talk about a great pleasure in life: RIBS!

That's right, capitalized with an exclamation point.

There are fewer things I find more enjoyable than a rack of ribs. They play an important part the pre-courtship of the wifey wife-we were in New Orleans together and she was impressed by my bravery of taking off my shirt (so I wouldn't spill sauce on it) sitting down in the middle of jazzfest and slurping down on some ribs.

Our friend Mike described it as "one of the most disgusting things he has ever seen."

Chances are by the time Unborn Baby Girl reads this she'll recall - probably when she was teething of me bellowing words to the effect of "she's ready!" and trying to feed her a rib.

There are many TYPES of ribs: St Louis, baby back, beef, spare, Kansas City, et cetera, and I highly recommend each and every type in an effort to fully understand the meaty goodness the world has to offer.

Socially speaking there are few instances less pleasurable than having a hunk of ribs with some friends while watching a football game. Especially since a rib bone doubles as an improvised weapon in a pinch.

Here are the ten things I'll teach my daughter about ribs:

1. When discussing ribs, as a Northerner, your opinion is subject to immediate disqualification in anyone living South of Pennsylvania or West of Delaware
2. Some of the greatest rib people are Northerners
3. My favorite all time rib eating moments: forcing down one last rack of ribs at Aaron's bachelor party in Memphis, the Wild Wood rib sampler, Tony's house in New Jersey (a friend's house), and St Louis with Mommy and Sig. A lamb rib in Turkey and my 36th birthday pig roast were disqualified from item #3.
4. Slow and low
5. The quality of meat matters
6. Brine
7. Order of ribs + sports enjoyment: football, baseball, and then...heck turn off the TV ribs and tennis do not exactly work together
8. Do NOT argue Wet v Dry - argue something less controversial like politics or abortion
9. Never wear a pink hat
10. The fact that there is a grill outside your window is merely a coincidence

So there you have it unborn baby girl. 10 things you need to know about ribs. And someday when you're attracted to a bald, chubby, shirtless man slurping on a rib...you get that from your mother.

That is all.

Ten Things I'll Teach My Daughter About Air Hockey

Last night I went to grab Mommy after a work event. Grab is such an overused word in this context - a more specific declarative would be, Yesterday Mommy was at a work event and won a gift certificate in a trivia contest - a co-worker of mine* was meeting a co-worker of Danielle's after Danielle's work event** so Daddy, co-worker Don and third co-worker Greg (yes I changed the names) all went over together.

Wow. I should have stuck with my original statement: Last night I went to grab Mommy after a work event.

Originally I wasn't going to go; however a gift certificate was going to cover the amount for dinner and there were games. I joined Mommy post-event last year and battled her co-worker Richard (name changed) in a single game of air hockey.

A single game since we were both so intense that sweat was dripping off our bodies by the end and oh, I happened to win. Which I indeed proceeded to mention whenever I saw him for the next year.

Ten things to know about Air Hockey. You'll probably be able to find it in the old folks games in the arcade.

1. It is perfectly legal to "accidentally" drop your forearm across the goal and block a shot - it stings though not nearly as much as losing
2. Sliding your paddle across the table to knock the puck into your opponents goal also perfectly legal and if you fail to score you can throw your entire body onto the table to block your goal
   
3. Challenger always pays
4. Never hold a beer while playing. That is a suckers move.
5. If your opponent does #3 it is your given right to crank the hardest shot possible at his or her prone body
6. Table-top air hockey is weak
7. Psychology matters. By psychology I mean trash talk is encouraged - no trash talk is required!
8. Mommy and Daddy played air hockey in New Orleans before we were dating. Mommy legit won when Daddy got too cocky.
   
9. An off-speed shot at your opponents goal is highly effective
10. A broken air hockey table is a sad sight
    

Daddy has a secret he and his friends used to go to a place called Fun & Games and play waaaaaaay too much Street Fighter II and Air Hockey. Captial letters on Air Hockey. The games were so intense that the puck invariably would be flying off the table by the end and it was eventually requested that we stop playing. I'm talking about the ability to purposely hit a puck so it'd fly three or four inches in the air - if you timed it correctly and your buddy was leaning across the table you could hit him in the top of the head.

I didn't tell Mommy's co-workers the above. Mostly as it'd really be disturbing to start a conversation that way when I originally met them. I believe what I said at the time was, I love air hockey - I used to play a little.

So what happened in the great rematch. Number ten happened! When I arrived I learned Ricardo and was 7-1 on the day, so Mommy and I went to find where they were playing.

Two things happened:
Ricardo lost! I'd like to think my pressence through him off. Probably not. Item #8 was always his weak spot and his opponent kept exploiting it.

And the Air Hockey table was taken out of service! I couldn't believe it. I think Ricardo and the others were a little shocked. The game next to air hockey was broken - a car game where you climb into the car and drive - and to fix the game the person had to climb under the car.

Which will lead to Daddy explaining video games at some point.

Either way Mommy and I left. After all, if you can't play Air Hockey, really what is point? Plus the gift certificate wasn't going to spend itself.

That is all.
Daddy (aka Wayne)

*How can I say co-worker when there are approximately 10,000+ employees at Bloomberg - it's like we are all from the same giant town and Don is from an old neighborhood I used to spend a lot of time in except now I just run into him at the mall and we get together for a drink sometimes. Random note of knowledge: I was once told that any gathering of 10,000+ people requires some sort of waiver on why it's exempt from being taxed as a town - I say I was told as I never verified this fact

**Danielle's office is more like a smaller town where everyone outside the town wants to say, I'm from THAT town.