Now Departing From Gate 1...

Ahhh...

I Could Not Agree More

Trip Coming Up? Bring On The Plague

Certain members of our family are developing a cozy little habit of becoming messily ill whenever a trip involving airline travel is involved. Were it only the flight itself, the issue could be isolated to motion sickness, claustrophobia or some other such identifiable cause. No, we delight in being awakened in the middle of the night just prior to departure by the unmistakable sounds of peristalsis gone horribly wrong, followed by the surprised and dismayed cry of the perpetrator. Leaping from bed to rescue the afflicted, the scene that awaits regrettably always fits the mind's eye. To spare you the details, it always involves washcloths, new sheets, and Fabreze. As we try to comfort the fever-soaked urchin, we cannot help thinking ahead mere hours to the adventure that awaits us: miles upon miles locked in a seatbelt, surrounded by dozens of people who silently accuse us of being those people, the awful ones who would take a sick child on an airplane to infect all aboard. Well, if we purchased tickets months ago, we're not staying home.

Sick in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve, with a present-laden flight to Oregon on the evening of Christmas Day following a full day of opening presents at home? Check. Sick (all over Daddy) at the airport early in the morning before the first flight of the day of a cross-country adventure? Check. Here's evidence of that particular day, almost exactly one year ago:



It is April again, our time for trips thanks to Kelly's extended vacation schedule. It also apparently signifies the beginning of "eww, gross" season. Last week, Kelly missed all but one day of soccer camp by coming down with an unexpected flu. Having thought the rest of us survived, we were proved wrong when Cheryl suddenly came down with the same thing early Easter morning. Now, two days ahead of our trip to [stay tuned], Michael decided to share his lunch with his carpet, which would be only mildly annoying if he hadn't already eaten it several hours before. We are hoping that our luck has changed, though, by getting our illnesses out of the way a convenient number of days before the actual flight.

No, I haven't gotten sick. Why do you ask?

Grownups Just Aren't Very Smart

At dinner this evening, Michael colored the branches of a tree on the restaurant's children's menu very well, varying the application of the brown pen skillfully to thick and thin branches alike.

"Michael, those branches are phenomenal!"

Glare from tot.

"No, Daddy, they're brown."

Star Wars, Redone

In this remake of the first, er, fourth movie, the special effects don't quite keep up with the original, but the acting is far more convincing.

Happy Birthday, Kelly!

Nine years old today. There is something about that age that even the child recognizes. She told us, a bit wistfully, that she knew she was not a little kid anymore. She's right, up to a point. For me, though, I don't think I'll ever lose sight of the little kid in her that she used to be. I hope she never does, either.

Play Ball!

The crack of the bat, the snap of the ball in the catcher's mitt, the whiff of grass, hotdogs and beer, and the glare of spring sunshine ... it is springtime in America again.

And just as a J.D. Drew injury accompanies a tantalizing display of talent, so does fantasy baseball shadow "reality" baseball. I have complicated matters more than perhaps I anticipated this year, as I now have two fantasy teams in two different leagues. Each league follows different scoring and roster procedures, and I have very little overlap in personnel, so I, like a traveler pondering whether the iron he may or may not have left on will reduce his house to smoldering rubble, will probably spend much of the season trying to figure out whether I properly set my lineups each day for both leagues. Mistakes are inevitable.

But it's baseball, so it's all good. Tedious updates on my championship runs to follow.

Please Turn to Hymn Number U2...

I remember the days when U2 albums were sold in Christian bookstores. It seems that a few churches have decided to reach out to the Gen X crowd by substituting U2's anthems in place of traditional fare:

Episcopal parishes from California to Maine are holding “U2 Eucharists” in an effort to make their services more attractive to young people interested in rock music and social activism.

At the Grace Episcopal Church in Providence, Rhode Island, the Reverend Robert Brooks welcomed worshippers and then added some unusual advice – he warned them to protect their hearing.

“If the sound’s an issue, we do have earplugs available,” he said.

Ushers handed out complementary ear plugs and fluorescent glow sticks for this communion service punctuated by the Irish band’s rock music.

Multicolour streamers flew over worshippers’ heads at this service. Children danced by the altar. Plasma-screen TVs illuminated the gothic sanctuary. Some people sang and clapped. A few looked puzzled.

.....

A similar U2 Eucharist in November proved popular at All Saints’ Church in Atlanta. Organiser Laurie Haynes Burlington said she and her husband planned on 300 worshippers. About 500 showed up.

“We totally ran out of bulletins,” she said.

I feel so bad for the children's choir that gets booed off the altar so that the headliner will start.