There were seven of them spread out between two cars, and they all were going to live forever; you could tell by the way they drove that little white angels were sitting on their shoulders and babbling fervent prayers to God in a state of near-if-not-already panic.
Boys - or should I say Young Men? It's so hard to tell these days when they all look like children to these ancient eyes, even the ones fully grown and surrounded by their own children. Children with children, indeed.
But these young men were exercising their God-given right to challenge the laws of physics, daring the tires to maintain their grip on the ice-covered road as they bobbed and weaved their way around the slower, tentative clumps of fearful winter drivers. Those of us who have lived nigh on to forty-five seasons carry enough memories of tragedies or near-tragedies to dissuade us from ever casting temptation in the face of natural law; we've seen firsthand the fickle twist of fate and chance that grant another day of life to one fool, and end it all for another. These boys have not lived long enough to learn the proper respect for the immutable probabilities.
The sheer stupidity of it broke me from my stressful reverie; whereas my mind had been occupied with careful analysis of the short patch of road in front of me as my vehicle crawled slowly toward its destination, the suddenness of noise and movement in another corner of reality jarred me into instant awareness, and I looked in the rear-view mirror to behold two cars rapidly approaching from behind with what seemed like missile-like speed. In an instant, they were gone by on either side, and then ahead of me, swerving one way and then the other as they passed all the other cars within view. At one point, one of the cars even left the relative safety of the right-hand side of the road to pass on the left, in the lane reserved for oncoming traffic.
My ears anticipated the crash of metal on metal, and broken glass. But none came.
Odd, but in the instant in which they were close enough to be in plain view, my mind recorded the pertinent facts as though saving up for some future inquiry by an officer of the Law:
"Yes, sir, there were two cars, one was a silver four-door Mercedes Benz, late model, looked two to three years old at most, the other a chocolate-colored Lexus sedan, couldn't have been more than two years old. Four boys in the Mercedes, one in the back seat had a full head of curly hear, nearly an Afro. Three boys in the Lexus, the one in the back was leaning from one side to the other like he wasn't belted in. They all appeared to be laughing and joking with one another. They were all of them looking at each other between the cars, egging each other on, daring each other to take a chance. I'd estimate they were going no less than sixty miles per hour when they passed me. Passed me like I was standing still ..."
Due to the straightness of the road, it was possible to watch them for quite a few moments; they carried the race at least as far as the next big light, a mile or so down the road, but that only slowed them down a second or two, and then they were off and running again, searching for Mr. Death.
Shivers ran through me as I watched it all, and it wasn't so much that I could identify with the feeling of being young and reckless and unacquainted with the nearness of tragedy, although there was a bit of wistfulness in the remembrance of a time when I, too, had been immortal; it was more the thought that my own sons might one day neglect the common sense they'd been granted and the lessons they'd been taught to pursue with their friends the unmoving, uncaring highway that beckons them all with tales of freedom and power and sated desires, and then rolls them around on the ground like dice to see how close to disaster they will come.
God grant them the wisdom to refuse that ride.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Valentine's Day Gone By
I have failed miserably in my quest to be a romantic person.
There was an article somewhere on the web the other day - or was it in the paper? - about the degeneration of the male initiative towards romance due to completion of the "conquest" on which all the energy and focus was spent. In short, once a man gets married, his creative drive in those areas wavers, wobbles, and then falls completely apart.
I'm not in complete agreement with the theory, but there are some aspects of it that ring true. When a young man is looking for that special someone, generally there is much more available time and energy for those pursuits. A young unmarried person is not so caught up in the complexities of family life, the financial challenges of arranging for the future education of offspring, the halfway-through-life questions of "where am I going with my career?" and "what will I have accomplished when all is said and done?" and the overwhelmingly depressing realization that the best years of the physical body are long gone. Rather, a young man is caught up in the deep curiosity for the unknown, the mystery that surrounds someone of the opposite sex, the anticipation of dreams that may come true (and the concern over dreams that may not).
Nowadays it is not difficult to find the energy or the time for creativity and romance, but it is extremely problematic to find them both at the same time; they rarely occur at a common point. Most of the energy of the day is spent at work, dealing with the ever-increasing responsibilities of the workplace, or in dealing with the offspring as they are now old enough to warrant a higher level of attention on the part of the parents. By the end of the day, though there is still time enough to spend on creative pursuits, the energy is gone. Indeed, many a night I find myself sitting on the couch next to my Lovely Lady after the children have gone off to bed, barely able to compose a simple sentence, slogging through websites on the laptop or listening to the drone of the evening news, all the while knowing it would be best to just go to bed.
St. Valentine's Day was dramatically undertoned this year, perhaps partly because it took place on a Thursday and I was working late anyway, and partly because I was nearly completely exhausted, mentally and emotionally, from all the responsibilities of management at work. Yet it would've been inexcusable to come home with absolutely nothing to offer my Lovely Lady, who puts up with so much and receives so little in return.
The thought of flowers and chocolate had occurred to me, but those kinds of things do not speak well for me; the fragrance of flowers brings on sensations of sneezing, and chocolates, while pleasing to the taste, have their own kind of guilt attached (as we are all trying to maintain our physiques).
Yet there was another idea which had occurred to me sometime last week, a little thought in the back of my head which had popped into being after visiting a bookstore to purchase The Three Musketeers for Adam (who has a book report due soon). There were many books in the bookstore (isn't that odd?). And there were quite a few for which it might seem that my Lovely Lady might have an interest, chiefly in area of biographies of those people for whom she has some high regard. Might it not be possible to give to her a gift of books, so that she might have something more long-lasting than roses or chocolates? Might not that be seen as something more useful, more instructive, more entertaining, more logical?
Ah, therein lies the rub. St. Valentine's Day is not intended for usefulness, instruction, entertainment, nor for logic. It is intended for such colors, lights, feelings and textures as would convey ideas of love and romance and sentiment and passion. Roses, poetry, candelight, aromatic incense, and soft music - these are the things which should surround the Day of Love.
But, alas, the majority of my energy and creativity were gone; what little remained was sufficient only to get me through the late-evening bedtime rituals of prayers and kisses for the children. The only spark of mischief left in me was to place the gifts on the little table next to the couch while she was otherwise occupied upstairs with the girls so that she did not find them til she came down again.
It seems that as the years go by, my ability to plan ahead for such things as these withers away, especially as more of my mind is taken up with concerns of work (a hazard of improving situation). Each year, I promise myself that I'll do better the next time. And each year, the day finds me unprepared yet again.
Thank God for my Lovely Lady, who forgives much of her feeble-minded husband! She is truly "a wife of noble character", and deserving of so much more.
There was an article somewhere on the web the other day - or was it in the paper? - about the degeneration of the male initiative towards romance due to completion of the "conquest" on which all the energy and focus was spent. In short, once a man gets married, his creative drive in those areas wavers, wobbles, and then falls completely apart.
I'm not in complete agreement with the theory, but there are some aspects of it that ring true. When a young man is looking for that special someone, generally there is much more available time and energy for those pursuits. A young unmarried person is not so caught up in the complexities of family life, the financial challenges of arranging for the future education of offspring, the halfway-through-life questions of "where am I going with my career?" and "what will I have accomplished when all is said and done?" and the overwhelmingly depressing realization that the best years of the physical body are long gone. Rather, a young man is caught up in the deep curiosity for the unknown, the mystery that surrounds someone of the opposite sex, the anticipation of dreams that may come true (and the concern over dreams that may not).
Nowadays it is not difficult to find the energy or the time for creativity and romance, but it is extremely problematic to find them both at the same time; they rarely occur at a common point. Most of the energy of the day is spent at work, dealing with the ever-increasing responsibilities of the workplace, or in dealing with the offspring as they are now old enough to warrant a higher level of attention on the part of the parents. By the end of the day, though there is still time enough to spend on creative pursuits, the energy is gone. Indeed, many a night I find myself sitting on the couch next to my Lovely Lady after the children have gone off to bed, barely able to compose a simple sentence, slogging through websites on the laptop or listening to the drone of the evening news, all the while knowing it would be best to just go to bed.
St. Valentine's Day was dramatically undertoned this year, perhaps partly because it took place on a Thursday and I was working late anyway, and partly because I was nearly completely exhausted, mentally and emotionally, from all the responsibilities of management at work. Yet it would've been inexcusable to come home with absolutely nothing to offer my Lovely Lady, who puts up with so much and receives so little in return.
The thought of flowers and chocolate had occurred to me, but those kinds of things do not speak well for me; the fragrance of flowers brings on sensations of sneezing, and chocolates, while pleasing to the taste, have their own kind of guilt attached (as we are all trying to maintain our physiques).
Yet there was another idea which had occurred to me sometime last week, a little thought in the back of my head which had popped into being after visiting a bookstore to purchase The Three Musketeers for Adam (who has a book report due soon). There were many books in the bookstore (isn't that odd?). And there were quite a few for which it might seem that my Lovely Lady might have an interest, chiefly in area of biographies of those people for whom she has some high regard. Might it not be possible to give to her a gift of books, so that she might have something more long-lasting than roses or chocolates? Might not that be seen as something more useful, more instructive, more entertaining, more logical?
Ah, therein lies the rub. St. Valentine's Day is not intended for usefulness, instruction, entertainment, nor for logic. It is intended for such colors, lights, feelings and textures as would convey ideas of love and romance and sentiment and passion. Roses, poetry, candelight, aromatic incense, and soft music - these are the things which should surround the Day of Love.
But, alas, the majority of my energy and creativity were gone; what little remained was sufficient only to get me through the late-evening bedtime rituals of prayers and kisses for the children. The only spark of mischief left in me was to place the gifts on the little table next to the couch while she was otherwise occupied upstairs with the girls so that she did not find them til she came down again.
It seems that as the years go by, my ability to plan ahead for such things as these withers away, especially as more of my mind is taken up with concerns of work (a hazard of improving situation). Each year, I promise myself that I'll do better the next time. And each year, the day finds me unprepared yet again.
Thank God for my Lovely Lady, who forgives much of her feeble-minded husband! She is truly "a wife of noble character", and deserving of so much more.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Floating Finale
James didn't hang on to the fever very long, just long enough to stay home a couple days. He wasn't exactly thrilled about it; he's really enjoying band, and the novelty of being at home wore off quickly.
We went to the pool three times week in an effort to get Adam his First Class rank in Scouts; the swimming requirement was the only one lacking. But the boy was having serious difficulty floating. Comes from not having fat on his bones.
Since James was sick anyway, we skipped Scouts on Tuesday to spend some dedicated time in the pool, just myself and Adam.
It was snowing pretty good on Wednesday, so we didn't go anywhere that night.
James was all better by Thursday, but it was also a snow day, so the kids were out of school, but by evening they were getting antsy and needed to go out and do something, so I took them to the pool again. Besides, Cheryl was hosting a party at the house for one of our church friends, so to reduce the overall noise level, out we went.
Everyone had a great time, but we still didn't do much in the way of floating.
Friday was a regular school day (finally!), and everyone was feeling better, so off they went. That evening, Cheryl and I went on a date: dinner and a Beatles concert! Of course, it wasn't the real Beatles, but it was still a good concert.
And it was still snowy.
Saturday was a very busy day. Adam had his ACT test (we force him to take at least major test a quarter to keep him in practice, so he'll be ready for high school and college). As a reward, he got to go to Steak'n'Shake. Then I had to go to work for awhile. And then ... back to the pool! We had arranged to meet with another Scout family to go through the swimming requirements for 1st Class and 2nd Class, and I was intent on getting it done.
It also happened to be the Chinese New Year celebration at the school, plus the Sweetheart Dance, so the place was packed. And it was still snowing! We had a bit of difficulty finding parking, and the snow was a bit thicker than I'd counted on, but we made it inside and got into the nice, warm pool.
We got to practice in the big pool (6'8" deep), which was not quite as warm as the family pool (4'5"), but that didn't cause a problem for anyone. Except Adam took quite a long time to ease himself into the water. That's the problem when there isn't any body fat to keep him warm. But once he got in, he was OK. He did his floating thing, and then he played 'drowning victim' for the other two, so everyone got through their requirements. Now Adam is all set for his 1st Class rank, and James is well on his way to 2nd class! Yay!
Due to the crowds and the snow, it took us quite a while to get back home, but we managed it. And then we celebrated our success with hot chocolate!
Can't wait til the next Honor Court. It'll be nice to have some new ranks complete!
We went to the pool three times week in an effort to get Adam his First Class rank in Scouts; the swimming requirement was the only one lacking. But the boy was having serious difficulty floating. Comes from not having fat on his bones.
Since James was sick anyway, we skipped Scouts on Tuesday to spend some dedicated time in the pool, just myself and Adam.
It was snowing pretty good on Wednesday, so we didn't go anywhere that night.
James was all better by Thursday, but it was also a snow day, so the kids were out of school, but by evening they were getting antsy and needed to go out and do something, so I took them to the pool again. Besides, Cheryl was hosting a party at the house for one of our church friends, so to reduce the overall noise level, out we went.
Everyone had a great time, but we still didn't do much in the way of floating.
Friday was a regular school day (finally!), and everyone was feeling better, so off they went. That evening, Cheryl and I went on a date: dinner and a Beatles concert! Of course, it wasn't the real Beatles, but it was still a good concert.
And it was still snowy.
Saturday was a very busy day. Adam had his ACT test (we force him to take at least major test a quarter to keep him in practice, so he'll be ready for high school and college). As a reward, he got to go to Steak'n'Shake. Then I had to go to work for awhile. And then ... back to the pool! We had arranged to meet with another Scout family to go through the swimming requirements for 1st Class and 2nd Class, and I was intent on getting it done.
It also happened to be the Chinese New Year celebration at the school, plus the Sweetheart Dance, so the place was packed. And it was still snowing! We had a bit of difficulty finding parking, and the snow was a bit thicker than I'd counted on, but we made it inside and got into the nice, warm pool.
We got to practice in the big pool (6'8" deep), which was not quite as warm as the family pool (4'5"), but that didn't cause a problem for anyone. Except Adam took quite a long time to ease himself into the water. That's the problem when there isn't any body fat to keep him warm. But once he got in, he was OK. He did his floating thing, and then he played 'drowning victim' for the other two, so everyone got through their requirements. Now Adam is all set for his 1st Class rank, and James is well on his way to 2nd class! Yay!
Due to the crowds and the snow, it took us quite a while to get back home, but we managed it. And then we celebrated our success with hot chocolate!
Can't wait til the next Honor Court. It'll be nice to have some new ranks complete!
Monday, February 04, 2008
Skiing, Tubing, and the Price of Fun
Yesterday was a wonderful day. Church in the morning, skiing and tubing in the afternoon.
We took the kids out to the nearest ski area for the afternoon. The boys and Deborah went tubing, Mary and I went skiing, and Cheryl sat in the lodge and read a book. The temperature was just right, hovering around freezing but with no wind to speak of, so while we were surrounded by (and falling on) snow, we didn't get cold or uncomfortable.
The kids tubed for several hours until they wore themselves out, Mary did as many runs on the easy slope as she could, remembering everything she'd learned from her lessons last time, and I had the chance to go on the intermediate slope and not fall down at all.
When everyone was ready to go, we headed back homeward, but stopped on the way at Krispy Kreme for a dozen assorted doughnuts; so when we arrived home, it was time for donuts and hot chocolate. And a warm fire in the fireplace. And Calvin & Hobbes books.
All in all, it wasn't too bad of an afternoon, financially speaking. We saved a little bit of money by purchasing the 4-hour pass instead of the full Day pass; and the tubing is quite a bit less than the skiing package. Still, it's not something we'll be repeating every weekend. I'd rather save up the money so we could do it with the entire family next year at the reunion.
This morning, James woke up with a fever, so perhaps the price of fun was a bit higher than we'd thought. He probably picked it up from his sisters, as they've just finished their own bouts with this cold or flu or whatever it is. But certainly being out in the cold for a few hours, soaking his head (and hair) in snow didn't improve his immune system. So it looks like he'll be out for a few days.
We took the kids out to the nearest ski area for the afternoon. The boys and Deborah went tubing, Mary and I went skiing, and Cheryl sat in the lodge and read a book. The temperature was just right, hovering around freezing but with no wind to speak of, so while we were surrounded by (and falling on) snow, we didn't get cold or uncomfortable.
The kids tubed for several hours until they wore themselves out, Mary did as many runs on the easy slope as she could, remembering everything she'd learned from her lessons last time, and I had the chance to go on the intermediate slope and not fall down at all.
When everyone was ready to go, we headed back homeward, but stopped on the way at Krispy Kreme for a dozen assorted doughnuts; so when we arrived home, it was time for donuts and hot chocolate. And a warm fire in the fireplace. And Calvin & Hobbes books.
All in all, it wasn't too bad of an afternoon, financially speaking. We saved a little bit of money by purchasing the 4-hour pass instead of the full Day pass; and the tubing is quite a bit less than the skiing package. Still, it's not something we'll be repeating every weekend. I'd rather save up the money so we could do it with the entire family next year at the reunion.
This morning, James woke up with a fever, so perhaps the price of fun was a bit higher than we'd thought. He probably picked it up from his sisters, as they've just finished their own bouts with this cold or flu or whatever it is. But certainly being out in the cold for a few hours, soaking his head (and hair) in snow didn't improve his immune system. So it looks like he'll be out for a few days.
Friday, February 01, 2008
No Snow Day Today
The kids were all disappointed today because school wasn't cancelled, even though there was plenty of snow on the ground and more in the air. But in this part of the country, a little bit of snow here and there doesn't count for much. So long as most of the buses are able to make it in, and most of the teachers, they won't cancel school.
They'll be thankful later when they realize that the snow days take away from their summer vacation.
Actually, it's quite fun to walk to school in the snow, or at least walk to the bus stop. There's not a lot of wind so it's not like they're in a blizzard; they can pommel their friends with snowballs and toss snowbombs at the occasional car passing by. And it is a nice, cozy feeling to be all wrapped up in layers, warm and safe, while tromping through the snow in boots.
It wasn't quite so much fun when I had to swing by the school to drop off Adam's field-trip money he'd forgotten, since the roads hadn't been cleared quite to my level of comfort; and even though I wasn't sliding around, there were moments at a couple stop lights where the car hesitated before gripping the road and making forward progress.
But taking it slow and easy was the rule for the day, and it only added five or ten minutes to my morning commute (of five or ten minutes), and no further problems were experienced.
And when the kids get home, they can use up all that extra energy shovelling the driveway. And the walk. And then they can build forts and have snowball fights and sled down the hills and get soaking wet. And then come in for some hot chocolate, a warm fire, and some Calvin & Hobbes books.
Ah, sweet snow.
They'll be thankful later when they realize that the snow days take away from their summer vacation.
Actually, it's quite fun to walk to school in the snow, or at least walk to the bus stop. There's not a lot of wind so it's not like they're in a blizzard; they can pommel their friends with snowballs and toss snowbombs at the occasional car passing by. And it is a nice, cozy feeling to be all wrapped up in layers, warm and safe, while tromping through the snow in boots.
It wasn't quite so much fun when I had to swing by the school to drop off Adam's field-trip money he'd forgotten, since the roads hadn't been cleared quite to my level of comfort; and even though I wasn't sliding around, there were moments at a couple stop lights where the car hesitated before gripping the road and making forward progress.
But taking it slow and easy was the rule for the day, and it only added five or ten minutes to my morning commute (of five or ten minutes), and no further problems were experienced.
And when the kids get home, they can use up all that extra energy shovelling the driveway. And the walk. And then they can build forts and have snowball fights and sled down the hills and get soaking wet. And then come in for some hot chocolate, a warm fire, and some Calvin & Hobbes books.
Ah, sweet snow.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)