Watch Out For Things That Go Bump In the Night

The latest time-when-I-wanted-to-scold-my-kids-but-could-barely-keep-from-laughing happened just tonight.

Zak and I were in the family room watching Mythbusters, while Danelle and Taryn had gone upstairs to watch So You Think You Can Dance. At some point Taryn came down to get herself a snack, and I vaguely remember keeping half an eye on her while she got a plastic knife from the kitchen drawer, strawberries from the refrigerator and a small plate. She sat on the couch and cut the tops off the strawberries while Zak and I watched Adam and Jamie blow up steaks, then went back to the kitchen before heading upstairs again.

We got done with Mythbusters around 8:30 and the sun had by now set, but there was still a little bit of ambient light. So I didn't turn on the kitchen light as I went to put Zak's water cup in the sink, and WHAM. I smashed my broken wrist right into our silverware drawer, which Taryn apparently never closed after getting her knife.

It hurt, but not like I re-injured it or something. It was more annoying than anything. So I went upstairs, put on a stern face, waggled a finger disapprovingly at Taryn and said, "SOMEBODY left the kitchen drawer open after they got their knife to cut their strawberries. And I banged my broken wrist right into it!" I even brandished said wrist at her for emphasis, as if to remind her of its existence.

Taryn frowned a little, cocked her head to the side and replied, "But daddy -- you shouldn't have banged your broken arm into it. You should have banged your OTHER arm."

Impeccable logic, as we often get from our little pragmatists. I suppose I should just be happy that Taryn goes for fresh fruit when she wants a snack.

Memorable Concert Moments: Lollapalooza 1991 and 1992

So the 2008 edition of Lollapalooza was this past weekend, and the show got more buzz than I can remember hearing about it in years. Perry Farrell's brainchild has definitely taken a long, strange trip since its 1991 inception. And my own first couple of attempts to attend met with varying degrees of success.

When the inaugural lineup was put together I was flabbergasted. Some of my favorite acts were part of that initial tour -- Jane's Addiction, Siouxsie & the Banshees, Living Colour, Nine Inch Nails, Ice-T & Body Count and Violent Femmes in particular. The closest the festival was scheduled to be was in New Jersey three days before my wedding.

Perfect timing, right? Well, not to Danelle. Try as I might, I could not convince her that going to the show would have no effect on our impending nuptials. She was afraid I'd get beat up, or we'd have relatives in town that it would be rude for me to ditch, or I shouldn't take another day off of work right before our honeymoon or any number of a zillion other nightmare scenarios. There was no talking her out of it -- I wasn't going.

Of the two events I'm certainly glad I chose our wedding over the concert. She did make it up to me by performing homemade karaoke versions of a couple of Living Colour songs for me on our first anniversary.

The next year we moved to Dallas, and the tour was back and coming to town. The year two lineup was arguably even better than the first, with Red Hot Chili Peppers, Ministry, Ice Cube, Soundgarden, The Jesus and Mary Chain, Pearl Jam and Lush all on the main stage. I had no plans to get married again so my there were no apparent conflicts. I bought my ticket right when they went on sale and eagerly counted the days until I could wash away the last remnants of the previous year's disappointment.

Then as the glorious day approached, a conflict arose. Danelle's grandmother was having her 80th birthday party the same day.

I truly felt Lollapacursed. But I'd already bought the ticket, and we had dinner with Danelle's grandmother regularly. So I convinced myself that skipping the party for the concert was no big deal. Besides, Danelle's dear sweet Mamaw would completely understand, right?

I explained the situation to her, and her dear, sweet words still echo in my head to this day.

"That's all right, hon. I only want people there who want to be there."

Stunned doesn't even begin to describe my reaction. I'm not even sure what I said in reply, if anything. What reply is there to that? That's light years beyond "Do these jeans make me look fat?" on the no-win scale and right up there with "Do you still have a drinking problem?" There's no way out. Game over.

I went to the concert and had a great time, and I don't think there was any lingering ill will between Mamaw and I through her passing a few years later. I went to the next two Lollapaloozas, too, before losing interest. But not before enjoying the likes of Smashing Pumpkins, Beastie Boys, Arrested Development, Green Day and Rage Against the Machine on the main stage. The second stage also introduced me to great acts like Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E, The Boo Radleys, The Pharcyde and Shonen Knife.

But the most unforgettable Lollapalooza performance for me by far came from Danelle's Mamaw. If I ever get invited to someone's 80th birthday party again, I'm pretty sure I'll make sure to be there.

UPDATE: Danelle and Nana both informed that Mamaw never actually got over my snub, and continued to bring it up long after the fact. Sorry, Mamaw. :(

The Summer of My Content

My three-month sabbatical comes to an end tomorrow with my official return to the workforce. Specifically, I'll be starting my new role as Sports Channel Manager for Examiner.com -- exactly the type of opportunity I hoped would be out there for me when I decided to leave the Broncos. Not that I need any further evidence of the existence of God, much less his grace, but this whole experience really couldn't have worked out much better.

I got two months of decompression and self-indulgence, spending May and June doing things like hiking, biking, going to movies and chaperoning field trips for the kids. Then right on the eve of becoming Mr. Mom I went and broke my wrist. But instead of lowering the quality of my time with Zak and Taryn, I think the injury actually enhanced it by forcing me to ratchet down a bit to do things that were more within their speed and ability.

This whole time Danelle was not only incredibly busy at work but also training hard for her first triathlon. If I'd still been working she probably would have had to make not only professional sacrifices from time to time, but also probably wouldn't have been able to make all of her training sessions. But as it was she could both keep up with her job and get herself ready for the Tri for the Cure. Her race was this morning -- conveniently enough -- and she handily beat the goal she had set for her time. I couldn't be more proud of her.

Throughout the entire three months I was also conducting a job search -- networking, sending resumes, going on interviews and all that fun stuff. I prayed for just two things during the process -- patience to accept that whatever happened would do so in God's time rather than my own, and the ability to present a clear and accurate vision of who I am and what I can do to potential employers and get the same in return from them. I turned down a couple of second interviews for opportunities that didn't feel right, and I missed out on a couple that I felt very good about. But where I ended up couldn't have been better if I'd scripted it.

With all the Lord did for me this summer I shouldn't be surprised that He also provided an opportunity to serve Him. I was approached back in June by a friend from church, Tony Blake, about providing PR assistance for a new local affiliate of a faith-based charity called Love INC. After learning a little more about what they needed I happily agreed, and so far have been able to assist them with some media exposure, collateral development and promotional ideas. It's been terrific to use the skills God gave me this way, and I expect to continue helping them out going forward.

I'm going to keep this blog going, too. But probably not at the same daily frequency I've been able to keep up since launching it. If you were a chef for a living, would you want to cook every night when you got home? Still, I've had too much fun with this to give it up for good. If you're really lucky, less quantity will result in better quality. ;)

Perhaps most amazingly of all, the first time I seriously thought that maybe I wasn't enjoying being a homemaker any more was a couple of Wednesdays ago. The very next day I got a call with the Examiner.com offer. Answering prayers that have actually been voiced is one thing. But doing the same for ones that haven't technically been asked is way more than anyone could really expect or deserve.

Some will say that these are all just fortunate coincidences, or self-fulfilling prophecies or just plain "dumb luck." But I see God's handiwork every day, in everything from the eyes of my children to the love of my wife to the majestic Colorado scenery. And I saw it manifest in these past three months, too. I just hope I can repay Him in some way for all the blessings He's given and continues to give me.