She Got Me On That One

Sometimes Charlotte gets an idea in her head, and she just can't let it go. She has been asking to run through our garden sprinkler for the past three months. We have told her every time that it's just too cold outside today. And we weren't lying; it's been a raw and dreary spring.

Char again asked if she could run through the sprinkler last Saturday, and I finally said yes. The temperature was around 70, it was bordering on evening, and I knew she'd be too cold to enjoy it, but I relented. Sometimes you just have to let your kid be disappointed, and hope they learn something.

I set up the sprinkler in the front yard, and let her have at it. Char could tell it was waaay to cold to play in the water after one pass through the twirling streams, but she would not admit that to me.

Her solution?

"See Dad? It's not too cold. I can still play in the sprinkler!"

The View From a Three-Year-Old

I recently found this digital camera at the Hope Ministries Thrift Store (or "The H Store" as Char likes to call it.)

The Sony Cyber-shot only cost three dollars, but I suspect that's because it didn't have a battery charger or a cord to connect the camera to a computer. Amazon and four more dollars solved that problem.

Since the camera works well, but there's hardly any money invested, I gave the Cyber-shot to Charlotte. She's always trying to take her mom's digital camera, but we're rightly afraid that she'd break it. This is a fun solution, and honestly, I'm curious what kind of pictures a three-year-old will take.

Last weekend we traveled to Garden City to place flowers on my dad's grave, and then we had a picnic at my cousin's acreage. Here are some pictures taken by Char. (We use my t-shirt blanket for picnics.)

Like most little kids, Char likes picking dandelions and giving them to her mom. I like how the dandelions ended up next to the flowers on Char's sandals.

Here's a picture of our dog. Char is practicing with the "flower button" (the close-up, or macro function).

Here are two pictures taken last night right before bath time.

When Char pushes the camera's button, she smiles at the electronic "click" and quickly looks down at the screen to see the picture she has taken. Usually she giggles at the results. It's a good time.

We've got a few mini-adventures planned for this summer, and I'm looking forward to seeing how Char's camera records the events.

Reminds Me Of A Poem

As seen at the Farmers' Market:

Sorry, I'm not going "'round the corner" to see your fudge.

Getting A Little Sliver On The Way To The Farmers' Market

"Sliver" is one of my favorite songs by Nirvana, so I was pretty pumped to find a cover version on one of Charlotte's Casper Babypants CDs. 

Charlotte likes it, too. 

I think it's cool that Nirvana bassist Krist Novoselic plays on the Babypants version.

"Sliver" by Kurt Cobain 

Mom and Dad went to a show
They dropped me off at Grandpa Joe's
I kicked and screamed, said please, no

Grandma take me home [x7]
Wanna be alone 

Had to eat my dinner there
Mashed potatos and stuff like that
I couldn't chew my meat too good 

Grandma take me home [x7]
Wanna be alone 

Said, why don't you stop your crying
Go outside and ride your bike
Thats what I did, I killed my toe 

Grandma take me home [x7]

Wanna be alone

After dinner, I had ice cream
I fell asleep, and watched TV
I woke up in my mother's arms 

Grandma take me home [x16]
Never take me home [x2]
Grandma take me home
Wanna be alone

Taking Charlotte To The Bar: The Ripple Effect

A couple of years ago I had a sophomore tell the class that his hobby was racing in the 250 Motorcross class. My response was, "Cool! Motorcross is such a tough sport." He smiled at the recognition, so I continued the conversation, "You've got to have such quick reflexes and great coordination, and I don't have either. Were you just born with good balance?"

Without missing a beat, he replied, "No. I got my balance from taking ballet lessons."

The boy sitting in the next row snapped his at head around in surprise, "Ballet lessons?"

The other steeled his expression and growled through gritted teeth, "Yeah. Ballet lessons." His tone ended any teasing that might have started. I was impressed.

Later, in Connections (UHS's name for homeroom), I told his ballet story. When I was done, one of the senior girls in the room happily chimed in. "That's awesome! I know I wouldn't have my golf scholarship if I hadn't taken ballet!"

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, ballet teaches you body awareness. How to hold your head, how to move your arms... it's where I got my golf swing."

Then another senior girl joined in. "I was told that one of the reasons I'm so good at speaking Spanish is because I took ballet."

"How does that work?"

"Well, they say if you learn to pronounce words in a second language at an early age, then you'll have a good chance of being a good speaker in any foreign language. Ballet positions are all French." These are the kind of conversations that a father of a one-year-old stores into his memory.

Fast-forward two years, and we're taking Charlotte to her first dance lesson: a ballet lesson. No, I didn't give her the idea to take ballet. All of Char's heroes all take ballet.

The Peppa Pig gang takes ballet lessons.

So does Fancy Nancy.

As does Charlie's small, but very funny sister, Lola.

So, taking ballet wasn't my idea, but I sure support it.

Here's the very serious ballet dancer (and her dog) preparing for her first lesson.

Here's the normal Charlotte (and her dog) preparing for her first ballet lesson.

  Showing off the leotard.

At the studio, getting some help with the ballet shoes.

Char started out a little shy and unsure of herself.

But then the instructor, who is very good with little children, shut the door to the studio. Charlotte does much better when she can't see Mom and Dad.

Luckily, the studio has a two-way mirror. Daphne, I, and the other parents took turns peeking through the glass to watch and to laugh.

Twice Charlotte ran out of the studio and over to me. She hugged my legs and exclaimed, "I'm so excited! Ballet is so much fun!"

Will these lessons help Charlotte become a dancer, a golfer, or an eloquent speaker? No clue. But I do think Mom will say "No" to motocross.

In A Flash

Because I wanted to take pictures with an old Kodak Instamatic camera, I recently learned how to load 35mm film into a defunct 126 film cartridge. I have nothing against digital pictures. I think the digital camera is one of the most convenient inventions of the past 20 years. But I have to say that I really like the look of these "lomo" pictures.

Here's a lomo-maggie shot taken in our back yard.

But instead of just being satisfied with my Instamatic, I went looking for other 126 film cameras to play with. 

That always happens to me. Sure, that original Xbox console looks to be a steal at $4.99, but by the time I buy controllers, a power cord, a cable to connect the Xbox to a TV, and a few decent games I'm down about fifty bucks. But would I buy a complete Xbox system at Goodwill for $50? Nope, I'd walk right by thinking only a fool would pay that much. But who's the fool?

Maybe I should rethink my thrift store shopping strategy? I'm not really saving money am I? Oh, who cares. I shop there because it's fun, and I don't know where the journey will take me.

Anyway, I decided I needed a 126 film camera that had a built-in flash because I didn't want to mess around with flash bulbs, and I don't want to be restricted to taking pictures only on sunny days. I hunted around and found these cameras for sale on etsy.com. 

The total cost with shipping was $30, and I didn't think was too bad, considering the Kodak camera on the right is rated as one of the finest Instamatic cameras ever produced. That's not the camera I was after, but it's a cool bonus. 

But boy was I disappointed when the cameras arrived. The Instamatic 500 was in okay shape, but the Keystone camera with the flash didn't work at all. Here's the message I sent the seller.

I wasn't all that nice, but I felt like I had the right to complain. Within an hour the seller responded by sending me a partial refund. That was fast, and I had to admit she seemed more honest that I had thought. I felt better, but I had spent $18 on cameras I didn't need, and I still didn't have one with a flash.

The next Saturday Daphne, Phaedra (Daphne's sister), and Charlotte went shopping, so I mowed the yard and then hit a flea market. That's where I found a Keystone camera just like mine. And this one was broken, too! The shutter button was stuck. I don't know why, but I opened the back cover to look inside, and that's where I spotted this little, metal lever.

When I pushed it to the right, the shutter button popped up, and when I pressed that button down, the camera took a picture. Crap. This camera wasn't broken, and I bet the one at home isn't either. 

When I got back, I checked my camera, and of course the little lever made my button pop right up. Man, I felt like an ass. Because I didn't know enough about these cameras, I had rooked an honest woman out of her money.

The only thing that kept me from immediately owning up to my mistake was that flash. I cleaned the battery contacts with steel wool and rotated four different batteries through without any success. It still wouldn't work. So, the camera was still technically broken. Wasn't it? I checked the Etsy ad, but I couldn't find any mention of the flash at all. I did see that she had listed the cameras "as is". She could have easily played the "as is" card and refunded me nothing. 

I had to suck it up, and admit I was a dork. My integrity is worth a lot more than a little embarrassment and a few bucks. After getting Charlotte to bed, I placed the camera next to the computer, and I sent the seller an explanation and her money back. She deserved both.

After hitting the "send" button, I closed the laptop, and picked up my camera. I was about to carry it to the basement where I'd hide it in my closet, but then I noticed something.

The "ready light" for the camera's flash had come on. That didn't seem possible, but I pressed the shutter button, and the room was momentarily bathed in an explosion of white light. 

I couldn't quite believe it. I waited a few seconds and watched the red light slowly grow bright again. And again the flash fired when I pressed the button. Since then, I have tried the flash several times on different days, and it has always worked. So I wouldn't be lying when I typed this, I just tried it a moment ago. There are probably a lot of explanations of why the flash now works, but I know which one I'm going with. 

I told my friend Tim this story, and when I finished he broadly smiled and said, "Congratulations. You passed the test."

A Bright Spot On A Rainy Day

Just because I want to remember how Charlotte made up songs and sang them with abandon.

And because I hope she always will.

Downtown Farmers' Market 2014: Going to the Dogs Edition

Finally! May is here, and the Downtown Farmers' Market has opened. For six months we can travel downtown on Saturday mornings to walk the streets, buy the food, and pet the dogs.

Daphne and Char like the sweets.

But I'm all about the meat. You can't see it, but there are two types of cheese inside this Käse Wurst, and they're waiting to squirt up my nose when I bite in. The pretzel bun is a great compliment.

Unless the place is crowded, I'll stop by Chef Steve's stand for a kabob. Charlotte's beginning to like these too, and she'll take a few bites while the kabob gets passed between Daphne and me. It's really comforting to watch your child enjoy the same foods as you do.

We start at the parking ramp and then make our way down the southern side of Court Ave. Before turning around at Walter Street, we stop and get a BLT Pita. This too gets passed around. I used to think the combination of thick bacon, fresh greens, chopped tomato, garlic, mayo, and pita bread couldn't get better. But I was wrong; this year they added avocado. I'd tell you how good this tastes, but my mouth is full.

Yes, Char enjoys the food, but what she really loves is the dogs. On the opening morning of the market, it was like a big dog show. And by that I mean big dogs.

Char calls this "dog sniff".

Daphne's dad had a Newfoundland just about this size, and we couldn't pass by without giving this Newfie some love.

Our dog Maggie is Great Pyrenees, but this big guy weighs about 60 pounds more.

Char was really intimidated by his size.

Charlotte got to give this tall guy a treat.

Do you see that black strip of fabric across the dog's nose? It's part of his Gentle Leader, and it acts as a leash for dogs that pull too hard when you try to walk them. Maggie has one, and it has made a night and day difference when walking her. She can eat and drink when she's wearing it, but some people will mistake it for a muzzle, and avoid us. If you see a dog wearing a Gentle Leader, you can assume he's strong, but don't think it means he's dangerous.

Before we left, Char sat on this giant Dutch Letter sign for a rest. I said from behind my camera, "Hey, give me a smile." This is the pose she struck.

Where does she learn stuff like this? I asked her, but she won't tell me.

Ever Notice That The Barn In The Middle Looks Like It's On Fire?

In 2009, Iowa police officers were informed about a person who was selling drugs from their car. To initiate the traffic stop, the officers used an old law from 1984 that required drivers to display a "full view of all numerals and letters" on their license plates. Since the suspect's license plate frame covered the county name, they were able to stop his car and search for drugs – which were found. But as expected, the 25-year-old law was contested.

Last week the Iowa Supreme Court ruled 5-2 in favor of the law. So, if any letters on your license plate are even partially blocked by a license plate frame, you can now be ticketed.

Dang! Does that mean I have to take off my ironic "I'd Rather Be Golfing" license plate frame? I don't want to remove it, but I don't want to be pulled over, either. I think it's time to break out the hacksaw and the metal file.

I like it. You can still read the message, but now I'm obeying the law. And this solution makes a statement of its own.

Whoops. Looks like I better get rid of the metal that's covering the "I".

There. I should be safe now.

Photo Album Memories: Welcome to My Room Edition (August '74)

It's time to drop that needle on the Barry White vinyl.

"Well, hello ladies. My name is Brent."

"What can I do for you? A guitar serenade? Music from my baseball jewel box? I have beautifully framed art... of me. Or maybe you'd like play Fisher Price Family House?"

"C'mon, kick off your shoes. Stay awhile."

Photo Album Memories: The Audio Selfie Edition

I've got a large container full of my parents' old photo albums in our basement. The family pictures were taken approximately from 1970 to 1980.

If Mom had given me the albums a decade ago, there's a good chance I might have "misplaced" them. But after losing family members, I have realized the power of photography. Our memories can be skewed, subject to prejudices, or simply faded. But a photograph is a memory you can hold in your hands. A family picture is the best shot you have of seeing the past as it really was. And if you lose the photo, that accuracy is gone for good. Thank goodness Mom held onto these photo albums for so long. To me, they're a treasure.

But that doesn't mean I can't have fun with them.

Here's a photo from Thanksgiving, 1974. I'm the five-year-old in the bottom left of the photo and my sister Michelle - second from the right - was seven.

In case you don't recognize the technology we were huddled around, it's a cassette recorder. Kids today might not have much use for an old tape recorder, but they were so much fun back then. It was quite remarkable to press record, say a few lines, and then actually hear what you sounded like to other people. Those home recordings were the audio equivalent to taking a selfie.

I remember recording myself singing along with songs on the radio, or in groups like the one above. I'll bet someone up there just sang the chorus to "Sunshine on My Shoulders" onto the tape.

VCRs didn't exist in the early 70s, but you could hold the recorder up to the TV's speaker and record a whole Scooby Doo episode. Later you could reenact the cartoon with Barbie dolls and Star Wars action figures, not that I ever did that. And I don't know how many times I tried to record the theme music for M.A.S.H., only to have it "Ruined!" by Mom yelling in the background that it was time for dinner.

My favorite story about tape recorders came from a guy I teach with. He had a childhood buddy who hid the recorder behind the family's toilet so he could record his father in the bathroom. Later he'd play the tape for friends on the big stereo in the living room. He called the tape, "Dad's Greatest Hits".

Oh man, that's funny.

Friday at the Swap Meet

Last fall I was told that there's a swap meet at the fairgrounds, and they'll have a bunch of parts for old Volkswagen Bugs. Currently I'm looking for a driver's side front fender. I checked the fair's website, and the swap meet looked promising. In a promotional photo from last year's meet, I could see three VW hoods, a rear deck lid, and an apron.

Back in February I put in a request for a personal day on May 2, and for three months I've been crossing off the days on the calendar waiting for the swap meet to come to town. 

I was wearing a hooded sweatshirt when the gates opened at 9:00. The sun was out, there was no wind, and the temperature was 52 degrees. It was a perfect morning; just look at that sky. 

It took about 45 minutes to walk past all the vendor tables, pickup beds, and auto parts picnics. When I had come full circle, so many new vendors had begun laying out their wares I was able to make a second pass and find it just as interesting. I kept checking my watching and laughing to myself that I wasn't at school. 

The closest thing I found to a Volkswagen part was a manual for '63 Beetle, so that was a bit of a disappointment. But I had so much fun picking through all this cool stuff; I hardly cared.

I think this is a 1956 Chevy.

The pin striping on the helmet is neat.

This place had all kinds of stuff for sale. Gas cans, floor jacks, bedpans... used bedpans? That's kinda gross. I think I'll be keeping my ten dollars in my pocket.

A girl in my junior high class had an older brother who built one of these from scratch. She used to complain that all he ever did was "play with motors in the garage", but that dude was the envy of most of the guys I knew.

Another old bedpan? Who collects these? I started thinking that bedpan people must be pretty weird, but then I realized I was taking pictures of old bedpans, and that was probably just as weird. So, I stopped doing that.

Vintage trail bikes are still cool.

So are Schwinn Sting-Rays.

Seriously, this is a muscle bike seat. It looks like it was stolen off of a 70's Harley chopper. (Pro tip: If you are talking to a person with a vintage bike, don't embarrass yourself and say that's a "sissy bar". They'll shut you down quick. It's a "strut".)

I had one of these when I was a kid. Your Hot Wheel car passed through the tunnel, and the speedometer would tell you how fast it was moving. It was as accurate as the recent weather forecasts, but still a lot of fun.

In the 80's, the Cragar S/S mag wheel was one the coolest wheels on the road. My sister dated a kid who had a set on his jacked up, '78 Camaro. That car was so bad ass.

So, did I buy anything at the swap meet? No, I brought $400 in cash, hoping to score some VW metal, but that wasn't to be. I didn't leave empty-handed, though. After taking the above picture at the "car corral", I spotted this key chain in the grass. The corral was at least 50 yards from the rest of the swap meet, so I don't think it was bumped off a dealer's table. 

As far as souvenirs go, it's a lot better than a bedpan.