Haunted

Sometimes people have told me I write about my long board way too often. But only sometimes. Is it my fault that my best friend is a 46" piece of bamboo covered in grip tape and screwed to four wheels? Possibly. And is it my fault that everyone else is usually busy and she's ready at a moment's notice? Possibly. But I don't sew or knit, I don't have a good book right now to read, I lost Captain two summers ago, Adam is out of town, everyone else has family events going on, and I haven't been able to get a hold of Kip. So now who's to blame?! That's right. Canada.

Anyway, I grabbed Mr. Shupe again yesterday and we took our boards up Provo Canyon. Due to the holiday traffic we actually rode our boards up AND down which was (hopefully) a good workout for my extremly tired and strained back. When we hit our high point on the trail everything changed. Some kid went zooming downhill on a board that didn't match its wheels. The wheels were yellow and the board had the light and dark woodie design. Ah!!!! My board!!!! Kate III!!!! I screamed to Ryan that that punk had my board. Suddenly I found myself turned around on the trail, kneeling down in the attack position on my board, chasing down the little thief. It was like Kate IV knew what I wanted cuz we were flying. Passing the bikers, walkers and avoiding the dogs (not all on leashes mind you), I caught up to the culprit and stopped him. And then! . . . I apologized as I immediately recognized that he was not riding on my stolen board. Oh well. Stupid Canada!

The only reason I am posting this story is because last night, the only dream I remember having, was about me finding the person who stole my board. So if you don't hear from me for a while, it's because I think it may be time for me to go to rehab...

Needed

Usually when it's after midnight and I hear the kids' bedroom door open and then close, I can expect to see The Dude slowly try to ninja his way into my room and up and into my bed all the while hoping I don't wake up and send him back to his room.

But tonight, no one came in. Then I heard footsteps on the stairs in the hallway. Someone was making a break for it, albeit a slow one. So I rolled myself out of bed and opened my door. Looked down the hallway. Stairs were clear. So I went up the stairs and there, taking slow, shaky steps in the kitchen was Bubble Toes. I asked her what she was doing and all she could do was mumble. The poor thing was sleep walking. She was convinced she knew what she was doing, but considering she hadn't had a swig of hard liquor in a few days, I took the slurred speech and closed eyes as a good sign she was asleep.

So I picked her up, patted her back and started back for her room. I talked, she mumbled. I held her, she dangled. As I laid her back in her bed and started to pull her covers over her, I realized something. So I climbed into bed and let her rest her head on my chest. Over the years the needs have turned to wants.

"I want a treat."

"I want a toy."

"I want to go play with friends."

"I want to watch a show."

And most of the things she can do by herself.

"I can do it Dad!"

I smiled. Tonight, in her exhausted and weakened state, there were no wants. Tonight was a throwback because tonight, she needed me. So I guess sometimes its ok to cry. Because sometimes it feels so good to be reminded that you're still needed.

Dream Job? That Depends.

One of my favorite songs has been Theory of a Deadman's "Hate My Life". In this lovely light-hearted ballad, they list a bunch of things they don't like in life. But one thing I can't agree with them on is my job. I don't hate my job. I also didn't hate my last job where I spent six years. I didn't even hate the job before that! I know I'll never do my dream job and that's ok. It's daily  description is pretty unique:

A. Run the early morning route as a garbageman.

B. Call an afternoon Dodger games alongside Vin Scully.

B. Put on an early evening Comedy Show.

C. Crime fight and be a superhero to children and the handicapped by night.

Figuring I've got the Dude at home with me for 15 more years and all the promised Daddy-Daughter dates with Bubble Toes, I just don't have the time, and by the time I DO Vin might be retired (please, no!). Where was I? Oh right. But I'm ok with the job I have now. In fact they treat me pretty decent.

So.... I threw my back out last night.

-What's that Davey? But you're only 34! You're too young to have back problems.

-Ha! Thanks, but no. Seriously. I'm too good looking to have back problems.

Anyway, in order to drag myself to work today, I got dressed laying on my back on the floor. Attempted every awkward position known to man to get hygienically ready. Crawled up the stairs to go outside and somehow managed entry into my car. I'm sure by the time I got to work I didn't look like my normal nearly-male-model self. And look what they did! I've had already a handful of people help me out.

Two walked with me from the parking lot when they saw me struggling to walk.

One brought me a breakfast sandwich, a drink and drugs.

One brought me ketchup for my breakfast sandwich.

One helped me do some stretches and brought me more drugs.

One ran to the store and bought me icy hot patches.

One put the icy-hot patch on my lower back for me.

Hate my job? No. Especially not today. But even more especially not as long as I get to keep working with people like this. Can you feel the love?

To The Bastard

Well, well, well. We meet again. Three times in my life I have purchased a long board. And now, three times in my life she has been stolen from me. Kate I was taken right from my own garage. I guess that serves me right for leaving my personal property inside the confines of my own home. Kate II was stolen less than two years later from the coat closet of my church building. I thought if my belongings weren't safe in my home they would at least be safe in the Lord's house. And then this last Saturday... I was skating my usual river trail when I became distracted. I stepped off the board to go for a walk. I placed Kate III sweetly into the bushes off to the side fo the walking trail. Apparently I should have used a fallen branch to cover my footprints because when I returned, she was gone. Kate the IV was created that same afternoon at my local skate shop.

But to the bastard that keeps stealing my long board I say this:

I will find you. You have way too many of my boards now. Eventually I will see my customized board on the trail under your feet. And when I see your act of defilement upon my lovely lady, I will JACRACK your skull down into your spine. I will have fun doing it and make it a long drawn out event. You are the local magistrate of Lannock I will William Wallace the crap out of you. I will Fight Club your Jared Leto self. I will Superman II you like a trucker in some dive diner. I will Quantum Leap you right into the ground (see episode 59, the end scene). I'm gonna put your Karate Kid corpse into a body bag and "Hey You Guys" your goonie face up and down the river trail. And quite possibly the best, I will Robert Downey Jr your Billy Zane. So be ready. I am.

Oh, and I recognize you probably don't read my blog, so that's what makes this so fun. You still don't know it's coming!

Me and Kate III

Three And Ready To Pounce

Well now that Reggie is three I am noticing he is growing up pretty quick. Three seems to be that age where a lot of the baby stuff is left behind. You can see it in his eyes. He looks like he knows he's up to no good. He is learning to be sneaky. Well, at least HE thinks its sneaky. Turns out that moving really slow counts as sneaky in his world and the slower he makes his moves the sneakier he thinks he is. In this video I have just come home from work and found him in the backyard (where he had been for the past 4 hours). Yes he is hanging out in the pink playhouse, but what you don't see is he has converted it into a garage for all of his construction trucks and blocks. Here is the confrontation.

Sneaky Dad VS Sneaky Dude

Whenever we get home from our bike rides Shadow helps me put the bike away. He has happened to notice that next to the bike is where I keep all of the sporting equipment. A year ago it was football. In fact that was one of his first words. But this Spring it's become baseball. So now he asks to play baseball when we finish putting the bike away. Lucky for him I was a semi-professional-quasi-recreational-near-athletic-baseball-softball champion and former t-ball and girls softball coach. And I just watched Ken Burns' History of Baseball just last year. So I'm feeling confident enough in my ability to play catch with a top heavy three year old. If you watch close you will see he hits his ball into the glove twice before throwing it. Just like his uncle Gary would when we were kids in the backyard.

The other way I can tell the little dude is growing up is how shaky the videos are getting. Must be the non-uniform motion of the earth's subtle rotation on its axis. Yep, it must be.

And then one profile shot of my Shadow showing us his double chin, cute big ears, cowlicks in his hair, dimples on his cheeks and his two seam fastball grip. Kind of what I always thought my clone would look like.