Quote of the Day: Duchamp on Tools

This week was my annual book shelf cleaning week. I dust the shelf, dust off each book, re-organize as needed and decide whether to keep or sell any books. While I was thumbing through an old book, I found an old note in my handwriting on a folded, beat-up Post-It note:  

"Tools that are no good require more skill" - Duchamp

Life is like....

Life is like a jigsaw puzzle, except you never can tell what the picture will be.

Life is like pizza, you can never have enough.

Life is like the pool, the further you walk, the deeper it gets.

Life is like a flower, precious and delicate.

Life is like cheese, sometimes, it stinks.

Life is like a gray cloud, you never know if it's going to bring rain or just get in the way of the sunshine.

Life is like a dirty diaper, you don't like changing it but you know you have to.

Life is like candy, sweet, but dangerous.

Life is like a day at an amusement park, just when you're having fun, you realize it's time to go.

Life is like a book, it can gather dust on a shelf or it can cultivate your mind.

Edit: In 2015 I wrote a follow up called "Death is like..."

Saturday Night Special: Wild Flower

I am a child of the 80's. I wasn't into music all that much as a young adolescent. However, the staples were there. Micheal Jackson's Thriller, listening to the Beastie Boys, watching MTV when my parents weren't home, typical 80's memories.  I would record rap and pop music off the radio during the "Top Five at Nine" countdown but my first "real" foray into rock music was Electric by The Cult. My sister had brought the tape home from a friend.

I was around 12 when I first heard "Wild Flower" and I had never liked anything like this before.  I ate up the silly lyrics, the driving drum beat, and the guitar solo. It made me feel rebellious but it wasn't so dangerous that I would get in trouble over listening to it. I would play it on my Walkman (along with "Love Removal Machine") over and over and over though the ages of 12-14. I would sing (quietly) and work my air guitar like a master. I am still surprised my sister or parents never caught me prancing around with my Walkman on to these songs. (I did get caught screaming along with STP my senior year when my parents came home early from something).

Now, The Cult feels like a guilty pleasure. It sounds nothing like what my taste eventually settled on, but it helped introduce rock music to me and it's still a nice little diddy. Enjoy, my people. 

Fragments from Ethiopia: Trip # 2

So last year we went to Ethiopia for the second time to pick up our son.  I was going to post about this last year but when we got back we were lost in the haze of coming back with a baby, then I lost my journal that I had written while on the trip...so I waited....and waited...and then I found it (in the bathroom!!).  It's likely my memories are corrupted beyond the point of recognition but then again, we all filter reality as it's happening anyway. So, without further adieu....

Our first trip was back in July to meet our son and make our appearance in court. This time, we were back to take care of the US Embassy side of things and take our son home.

On the long plane ride over I started reading more adoption parenting books and generally freaking out.  I hadn't really worried about things up until this point.  Please don't misunderstand, it's not that I didn't consider them, it's just I didn't worry about it. Now, reality was setting in. 



This is me. With the largest jar of nutella  you have likely ever seen. This was on our layover in Frankfurt..

We arrived at night and quickly got to our hotel and straight to bed.

The next morning when we got to see our son, he was asleep, which mirrored our first trip. So, we chatted with some of the other couples who were staying on-site for their first trip, emailed family, etc. Then, we finally got to see H. It was (of course) clear that he didn't remember us one bit. Maybe he knew something was up, maybe it was that he had just gotten up from his nap but he was not the happy-go-lucky little guy the last time we saw him.  I wanted to stay and visit on site as much as possible (as it felt safe) but the agency prefers you to start that bonding right away.  We said some quick good-byes to his caretakers and we were rushed out back to the hotel.

Well, it turns out just K got shipped back to the hotel as the other fathers were going shopping and it seemed this would be a good time for me to get free transportation to go shopping. We went to a local tourist market, a coffee shop (Tomoca) and Kaldi's (the "Ethiopian Starbucks").  I had a good time visiting with the other fathers but in the back of my head I was thinking about K and H. I was wondering what was going on and wishing I had a working cell phone. I said a few quiet prayers, hoping for the best.



We loved the sambusa (with the lentils not meat).

When I got back to the hotel, I found out K was having a tough time with H after all. I felt terrible but what can you do?  We just hung out in the room the rest of the day, getting to know our H all over again. He is naturally a very pleasant kiddo, so that made everything a little easier than I would have imagined. What can I say? He's a sweet boy.

We snacked for dinner as I had brought up Kaldi's during the late afternoon and went to bed early, expecting a long night. To our surprise, H woke 3-4 times, ate, and actually went right back down. Felt like a Boss when it was my turn. Our little guy was up early at 5:25 but it was all good because we had gone to bed early and our body's clocks were still adjusting. We played in bed for a good while. Those few months where you can actually play in bed with your baby are so sweet and fleeting!



H looks so crazy tiny here.
"They grow up fast" is the most true cliché EVER.

We were off to our US Embassy appointment. The traffic was, as expected, crazy. It took about an hour to get to the embassy and at times involved cutting through bumpy back alleys and dodging people, animals, and cars.

Our appointment was ridiculously easy and very fast. We had a celebration lunch back at the hotel (pizza) and some cokes. In the afternoon we just hung out and later we snacked for dinner as we were both full from lunch and very tired. We were still hunkering down, as we had all been on an emotional and physical roller-coaster. This is despite the fact that everything up until this point had gone as excellent as could be imagined. We hit the sack at 8:00 PM!

 


The Coffee. Oh, the coffee. It was so good everywhere you went. Even though by most standards I am, indeed a "foofy" coffee drinker here at home, not so in Ethiopia.  One little cup like this and you're done. Two of them and you might get the shakes.

 The next morning we were enjoying our breakfast when a guy walked into the hotel, talked with the front desk and started walking right for our table. The thought occurred that this might be the owner but it turns out he was with Children's Hope Chest. We had arranged to meet with our sponsor child but the details had been sketchy and we thought that we had never received final confirmation before we left....so apparently, we had confirmed. It was agreed I would go and K would stay with H. I felt bad because, I was leaving again, but off I went.

The CHC rep was named Alex and he made me feel comfortable as he was a genuinely nice guy. We talked other about life, fatherhood, adoption and Addis traffic. We headed to the Merkato section of town. It's an extremely busy area of town that supposedly includes Africa's largest open-air market.  It's not the scariest part of town but it's not the nicest either. Once our taxi parked we walked literally off-the-beaten trail where the "real" Addis is teeming with real life. Basically the buildings were shacks built ingeniously with whatever scrap that could be procured.  We passed a shack that was packed to the brim full of men and it was so dark it was hard to tell what was going on.  I later found out this was a crowded bar (keep in mind this was 9:00 AM local time). We finally made our way after a few blocks to a church where we would meet our sponsor child and her father.

Our sponsor child was extremely shy as she is a 7-year-old and has nothing in common with this white American. Luckily, I had gifts from our two daughters (two shirts, a scarf, stickers and home-made cards) that I think she really liked. It was a bit awkward but you know, it was great to meet a real person that our family is helping! If I had had any sense, I would have asked if he had the time to hang out a little more and take me into the market, but I was eager to get back to K and H.

Trying to sneak a picture of the alleyway without getting people's attention.

When I got back to the hotel I spent some time with H but as our time in Ethiopia was dwindling, I decided to leave around nap time for one more excursion.

Our hotel was near the Hamlin Fistula Hospital. We had heard the hospital sells craft items from the women being served, so off I went seeking some souvenirs and adventure. It was literally down the street so my "adventure" wasn't too interesting.

Tours were only held on particular days and this was not my day. I asked him if I could still purchase some of the goods and after a phone call I was granted permission to enter. Turns out there were a group of Australian medical professionals who were touring the facility and I was welcomed to join them. The Australians were exceptionally nice to me as well although I ended up repeating my answers to the same questions to four different people.

We had seen a PBS special about this very hospital, so it was pretty cool to see the same places I remembered from the film. The questions the doctors and nurses had were a little more in-depth than I would have liked but I couldn't complain as I felt pretty lucky I was in on the tour. The grounds were beautiful but there were signs everywhere that reminded you photography was not allowed.

As we entered the back end of the facility I pointed my camera off campus to get a few pictures. Of course, a member of the tour told me photography was not allowed. I ignored him but really lost my nerve after that point...I didn't want the shame!  Of course, I wasn't going to take photos of the patients but you know a few rotten eggs have to ruin it for the rest of us!

We had begun the tour with a lecture and a Q & A, and the guided tour was starting to drag on and on...the thing was I had no way of contacting Kathryn about where I was or what was going on. As far as she knew, I was just going to buy some stuff and get back to the hotel. I quickly bought my stuff on walked back to the hotel as soon as I could.

That night we had dinner with the other family adopting that was staying at our hotel. They were adopting older twins (age 5-6). The hotel food was pretty good, everything took forever but that's just Ethiopia for you.  We talked with them for a good while as all the kids were being good and entertaining themselves. The staff at the hotel were pretty great. Supportive, kind, helpful, you name it....I didn't know if this was because they are nice or they wanted our money. Either way, it worked for me.

This night I had trouble going back to sleep after the first feeding again. I think I managed a little under 5 hours of sleep. Not what I wanted heading into a 23-hour travel ordeal starting the following evening....besides the sleep issues the whole experience with H was going extremely well. H was pretty delightfully charming most of the time. He was adjusted to us and had only a few crying spells the entire time.  We were (and are) so blessed to have a happy little guy - I almost felt like we somehow were getting away with something because it wasn't a nightmare. This isn't to say it was a piece of cake because babies never are, just that my "bad expectations" paid off!

The next day we took it easy, so easy I barely remember anything from the morning. That afternoon I walked to a Kaldi's about a half a mile away to get some lunch. It was a nice, uneventful walk. The only white person I saw was at Kaldi's but no one even turned an eye at me. I bought some "muze" (bananas) on the way back and rain threatened me on the way back but all I got was some light rain.

K enjoyed a traditional coffee ceremony as I went upstairs with H so he could nap. After a nap, I experienced a strange experience of the hotel not wanting us to pay in Ethiopian birr (they flat out refused at first, wanting US dollars, which I only had about 10-20 bucks on me). They eventually relented as I explained I didn't have the money to pay them anyway. 

It seemed like the last two hours in the hotel flew by, and off we were to the airport. It was crazy traffic and it took about an hour to get there. The stress of being in the crazy airport having to go through customs, etc. with a new baby was a little overwhelming.  

It was crazy but not too crazy. It was a long trip home (and a long boring story that I'm not going to repeat here). Suffice to say, H was incredible. He basically was so freaked out he slept most of the time for the first 12-14 hours. It felt like we won the gold medal in adoptive flight homes....so not what I was expecting.  Once we arrived in DC the little guy was winning smiles left and right. We missed our flight from DC to Houston as our flight left Addis a little behind schedule and the line at customs in DC was insanely, frustratingly slow. 

When we got home the new chapter of our lives finally started. We could work on finding our new "normal". I am happy to report that this year with H home has been amazing. Life is hard sometimes, there is no doubt but right now in our lives when we aren't cleaning up vomit, having children scream at us, and feeling exhausted, we are very, very happy and blessed.  We wouldn't have it any other way.

Blog Redesign BLOWOUT CELEBRATION Pic Dump

I redesigned the blog tonight - I think the old one looked a little too much like 2002.

I know all my long-time readers (all two of you) might be really shocked.  Here is the list of things I changed:

New Logo: I  took 5 minutes to make the logo go from terrible to not as terrible.

New Colors: Wow, thanks google.

New Banner/Description quote: Pretty much sums it up right there.

Here is a mini-pic dump to celebrate the festivities. Free cookies for everyone!!!

 

 

Fragments For Rent

We had just finished dinner tonight and it was the fourth quarter of the Texas A&M-Alabama game when my 7-year-old daughter started rooting against the Aggies. I told her if she didn't stop she wouldn't be getting dessert.  Does this make me a terrible dad or a true Aggie? I vote both. And, yes, she stopped because she knows better to call my bluff.

Am I sad the Aggies lost? A little. I figured their defense was pretty terrible so I expected a loss but was hoping against reality most of the game (especially after being up 14-0). Very happy they came back to make it respectable. Besides, I was cured from Battered Aggie Syndrome (BAS) last year and I did not relapse today.

I am working on two long posts at once. I have few more posts already planned in my head. I bet you are so PUMPED about that. I am.

Ready for the fall weather to start. Texas sucks sometimes. Actually, a lot of the time but don't remind me.

I had one of those Aerosmith songs stuck in my head a few weeks back (I can't remember if it was Amazing, Cryin' or the other one). So I ended up watching the whole Alicia Silverstone trilogy videos. Man, such great videos.  Brought back memories of staying up late in my room, hoping the videos would come on because Silverstone looked so cute and well, truthfully, they are a great songs. Go ahead and look them up on YouTube. I'll wait.

Well, what's the point of talking about it without pictures? I always used to cringe at that belly button piercing scene. I have  this weird thing about not wanting anyone to touch my belly button. Just found out I have a slight case of Omphalophobia, the fear of bellybuttons, or more exactly of people touching my bellybutton. Just a slight case though, I can't say I would get nauseated if someone touched mine, I just get really uncomfortable. Happy to know I am not the only weirdo in the world.  

 

Ok, are you back?

Ahem...

I had a dream last night that I was in line at a greet-and-meet with Weezer to promote their "new album" that doesn't exist entitled "Strange Children" (not too shabby a title if I may say so myself). I was in line with two pals of mine and I was basically a whole douche as I was talking trash about modern Weezer and how much better they used to be.

ADOLESCENT GOLF MEMORY FLASHBACK TIME

I watched the A&M game at my folk's house and during a commercial my Dad checked in on some golf tournament. One of the dudes flipped his club on the ground after a bad shot. This brought back my memory of playing a par-3 golf course when I was 13.  Why was I playing golf? I dunno maybe it was my idea of REBELLION at the time. My friend Adam and I borrowed our dad's clubs and Adam's mom dropped us off one Saturday morning.  After two or three holes, I missed a gimmie putt and I pounded my putter into the green about four times.  To be fair, it might have been five.

Of course the owner just happened to be driving by in a golf cart and he lays into me. "How could I do this? Why didn't I have self-control?", etc. etc. He went on to say if he knew any better "he ought to kick us off his course". In fact, as I remember it, it was this mention in his tirade that gave him the idea to kick us out. And there we were, expelled from a golf course because I threw a tempter tantrum on the 3rd hole.  Adam had to call his mom to pick us up and we started walking down the road before she got there because we were just too embarrassed to stick around any longer.  I don't think I ever told my parents because I knew I would get in trouble. 

Ta-Ta for now.  Here's a racist Superman cartoon from the 1940's because, you might be a history teacher and want to show the kids what it was like back in the day. Either that or you're a racist.