Kintropy In Action

For those of you dads that may be local here in the Portland, OR metro area, check out the First Annual Portland Dads' Family Picnic.  My brother, K, has been working with this group for involved dads (my preferred interpretation for "stay at home dads" since I'm involved, but have to work outside the home).  Apparently, they have over 80 dads signed up for the group, and the group seems to be pretty active & involved.

In fact, if you run into my brother, he'll happily tell you the story of the last meeting:  a night at the pub.  K. arrived in the area via mass transit with some sense of where the pub was.  K has an excellent sense of direction.  I've seen him drop into an unknown city with a map and have it down pat pretty quickly.  On this occassion, though, he walked toward his destination.  And walked.  And walked some more.

Some time later, he called a cab and gave them the location he couldn't quite locate.  And the cab drove him back more or less to the spot he started from.  Apparently, he should've gone a few feet this-a-way instead of that-a-way....  (Oh, the price of a dads' day out plug for K ;-)

Here are the Dads' picnic details.  You can also learn more at the Dads' group website:

• When:  Saturday, Sept 6 from 11am - 3pm (drop-in anytime)
  

• Where:  Pier Park in St. John's picnic area (Portland, OR)

• Food:  Potluck - see site for details.

Our family will hopefully make it.  Maybe we'll see you there - provided we don't get lost (can you tell my brother and I are fifteen months apart?).

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 02:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

When Janette and I first moved in together, we hit the movie theaters every Saturday afternoon.  It didn't matter (most of the time) how good or bad the movies were.  We were getting some downtime, soaking in a bigger-than-life cinematic experience, and getting completely wired on candy, popcorn, and soda.  All was right with the world.

About six months after Gabriel was born, I decided it was time to indoctrinate him in the wonders of cinema.  We headed to the local Bellevue, WA megaplex where he promptly fell asleep.  We wandered into the theater, waiting for The Rookie to start, the infant Gabriel asleep in my arms. 

The local ads played.  Gabriel slept.  The curtains closed and reopened to bombastic coming attraction trailers.  Gabriel snoozed.  The movie began with a quiet, coming-of-age montage.  Gabriel woke with a start and screamed.  And screamed.  And screamed.

Thus ended our first father-son movie experience.

For Hannah, Janette and I waited until about a year ago.  As a family, we descended on the theater, waiting for the latest animated feature to start.  Hannah sat in her wheelchair beside me, then Janette, then me as Janette and I took turns entertaining her prior to the movie's start. 

The movie began.  Hannah considered her options.  She reached out to Mom, then me, requesting removal from her wheelchair.  Then she began to scream.  And scream.  And scream.

Janette and Gabriel remained behind to finish the movie (they didn't - Gabriel got bored half-way through) as Hannah and I strolled the mall, keeping perpetually in motion per the Princesses orders.

Gabriel's theater behavior has certainly improved since he was younger.  He can now sit through a movie with only one gotta-go gotta-go theater break, a few loudly blurted plot questions, and a sugar enhanced need to dance in his seat.  The jury is still out on Hannah, though, so this weekend, when the theater bug hit, we decided to stay home and introduce the kids to E.T. - The Extra Terrestrial.

Warning:  movie spoilers ahead.  Read no further if you have not seen, and wish to see, E.T.

I picked the movie and promptly received a lukewarm response from Gabriel.  Janette and I explained to both kids that we were going to watch a movie together as a family, and Gabriel and Hannah settled in for some enforced family time.

As the movie began, the kids, of course, came 'round.  Gabriel laughed at all of Elliot's and E.T.'s funny bits; Hannah giggled everytime Gertie opened her mouth, particularly when she tried to teach E.T. to speak.  As tension mounted in the last half of the movie, Gabriel paced anxiously.  He settled next to Mom on the couch as E.T.'s health declined, begging for confirmation that E.T. would not die.  He sobbed and Mom rubbed his back.

As E.T.'s health suddenly improved, Gabriel laughed.  Hannah clapped as the action picked up and cars chased bikes.  As the movie closed, Gabriel expressed, and Hannah seemed to agree, that the family movie night had not been so bad after all.

Next, Gabriel requested the special features disk (his end all/be all for all DVDs).  He navigated through it for about five minutes, then proclaimed, "I'm done now.  Can I play Wii?"

And thus ended our family movie night - without any screaming.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 02:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

We had a funny experience at our house the other night. Robert was being a sweetheart and cooking diner. He suggested we listen to the last NPR recording of "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me." It is a comedic game show based on current events. Robert and I both at some point laugh at it when we are listening to it. So we set his MP3 player to play through our under-the-cabinet CD player using a FM modulator.

Meanwhile, Gabriel was in the family room playing a Wii game on our TV, and Hannah was watching our portable DVD player on the floor (They Might Be Giants new DVD). Our kitchen and family room are one big room, so it was a little noisy. I took a dining room chair close to the kitchen counter radio to hear the NPR show while I played my Nintendo DS.

When it was time for dinner, we all paused and went to the table except for Hannah; she had fallen asleep. We had dinner; then cleaned up. Gabriel returned to his game, and I returned to my place by the radio. Robert moved a chair over across from me and started playing his Nintendo DS. At some point, Gabriel saw what we doing. He pulled a chair over by Robert and I, and he brought out his Nintendo DS and started playing it.

Ah, there is nothing like the nostalgia feeling of a family gathered around a radio: with little modern tweaks, of course. Gabriel keeps asking when are we going to do it again!

--Mom

Posted by parents at 09:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (1)

Janette purchased an infant doll for Gabriel to play with before Hannah was born.  She helped him understand it was a girl-doll, just like his sister would be, and encouraged him to play with her and take care of her.  In those early days, Gabriel had a few nights' intense focus on the infant doll:  feeding her, changing her (actually, asking us to change her), and hauling her around the house.  And then the doll went back to the toy box from whence it came.

Sister came.  As part of our in-and-out-of-the-hospital medical dance, Gabriel headed to preschool.  There he met a girl who owned a cat.  One day, Gabriel pulled his pretend sister out of the toy bin and dubbed her "Coco" after his friend's cat. 

Thus, Coco was born.  

Coco has had a varied life since.  She has re-emerged at different times with different roles.  Gabriel introduced her to Hannah (not interested).   A few years later, Coco had a brief, but exciting life as what Gabriel loudly proclaimed as "Suuuuper-baby!"  And then she returned to the bin.  And waited.

This week, Gabriel re-unearthed Coco.  Coco, the practice baby sister named after a cat, the former superhero, has gone through additional changes.  Coco, for starters, is now a baby brother.  Coco also has an interesting lineage.

"Where did your little brother, Coco, come from?" I asked a few nights ago.  We were all piled into the car, seeking a bad-for-us-but-quick fast food dinner.  Janette sat beside me, motioning, NO, don't start.

"Um, God gave her to our family!" Gabriel proclaimed.  Hannah, sitting beside Gabriel, seemed unphased by this extraordinary news.

Janette shook her head.  She knew I couldn't leave that alone.  Gabriel has been poking at God for about a year, exploring.  We've encouraged him to think and feel his way through, helping him search for answers to his own questions on the subject.

"How'd He do that?" I asked.  A groan erupted from the seat beside me.

"Coco came down from the sky!" Gabriel said.

Gabriel and I continued our conversation, exploring the what-ifs of a special-delivery baby like Coco.  I muttered what a hard life a messiah might have, and in an unusual recognition that I was crossing The Line (with some help from Janette beside me), I turned the convesation in a different direction. 

We drove on, completed our fast food order, and headed home. 

It is interesting to watch Gabriel explore the Big Issues:  where do we come from, what will happen to us when we die, etc..  We step in to help him explore (sometimes with humour - see above), but I really do want to encourage that exploration:  not force the stamp of my own beliefs on him.  I recognize that's maybe a lot for an almost seven-year-old to digest, but Gabriel seems to be doing fine with that room-to-think and room-to-invent.

I want the same for Hannah.  She, too, is exploring her world.  Although she sometimes (not as often these days) lacks the words or the expressions, I imagine she has some similar questions beginning to form.  And her perspective on life, death, God, and all of it may be entirely different than Gabriel's.  As Hannah's questions emerge, we'll help her walk through them, too.

In the meantime, Gabriel's pretend little baby brother, Coco, is thriving with the attention.  Gabriel has learned to change Coco's diaper, and Gabriel believes this will train him to help change Hannah's.  Interesting after all these years that Coco's original purpose is, strangely, still intact.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 02:34 AM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

Gabriel has been an amazing big brother of late.

When he builds a fort he wants Hannah to come in and share it with him.

One of his latest ideas is to turn the family room floor into a jumble of all the pillows in the house. He takes the one pillow from his bed. Then he grabs Robert's and my pillows from our room. Next comes the six pillows from Hannah's room. That is followed by the three pillow wedges from various rooms. He tops it off with all the pillows from the couch. Then he proceeds to dive under and recline on them. Then he insists Hannah be put in the middle of it. She rolls around and over them which I believe is good for her spatial awareness. He has essentially made a rolling child's obstacle course. Once he is bored with the rolling and lounging, he starts hiding their toys in various areas beneath the pillows to hunt for them. Hannah just tries to get his action figures and tries to see how long she can chew them before she is caught.

He has started having conversation with her. He does both parts. He gets annoyed when I'm too close, but it is great to watch Hannah's face while these quote conversations are going on. She rolls her eyes sometimes, will clap her hands with excitement or just laugh at him. He loves to make Hannah laugh. She likes to do the same to him.

I must say that this makes me happy. I never expected my children to like each other. I'm an only child and just watched most siblings argue. I know this a honeymoon period. When she starts walking and destroying his stuff, things are going to get real heated. For now, I'm relishing the time of bliss between the siblings.

--Mom

Posted by parents at 12:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

This is Hannah at 5am.  Yes, she will be embarrassed by this picture some time in the future, but maybe that's just a little bit of payback for her many early morning wake-up calls?  Would I be that vindictive?  Maybe.  Ok, yes!  Definitely, yes!
 
Tonight, she was not a happy camper and began crying almost as soon as I started my 2am shift.  With some albuterol, she has settled back in comfortably:  asleep for the time being....
 
-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 01:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

A co-worker stopped by my desk yesterday, admiring my 2 lb Blue Diamond almonds bag on my desk.  We chatted.  Casually, he mentioned his wife had picked up this great snack-pack version at CostCo.  What a great way to help guide portion size, we agreed.

Thus the seed was planted.  I hadn't been to CostCo for awhile.  At home, Hannah was going batty without a trip outside for a day-and-a-half, post-surgery.  I reasoned we could use a post-dinner family trip.  CostCo seemed like the ticket.

So after dinner, we (we being Janette -  thanks, honey!) packed the kids up and headed out to CostCo.  We happen to live within a stone's throw of the what may still be the biggest CostCo store worldwide.  CostCo opened the Hillsboro, OR store as a new concept store:  lots of display space for furniture, those food taster people, etc..  It's quite the browsing and shopping adventure.

We popped over to CostCo, unloaded Hannah's wheelchair & the kids, grabbed a cart, and headed inside.  Hannah was unusually well-behaved and patient as we strolled the isles.  She alternated between looking at all the stuff whizzing by and admiring the highly placed lighting in the warehouse's ceiling.  Gabriel jumped and skipped along the pavement until we advised him to slow down to a walk.  We came, we saw, we shopped.

As anyone who has ever shopped CostCo knows, you go in for one thing, maybe two, and exit with twenty.  I'm usually the first to moan about the total bill while obscuring the fact that many of the unnecessary items in the cart are mine, all mine! 

This shopping trip was no different.  In addition to milk and the almond snacky thing, we purchased blank DVDs and CDs (we were running low), Instant Immersion Spanish DVD-ROM (hey, ten dollars off with the sale ending today), turkey jerkey (makes the night shift run better & low in fat...), batteries, etc..  Yes, most of the extras were for me or for the kids.  Janette fared rather poorly in this trip (sorry, hon).

While Janette checked out, I took the kids over to the snack area.  This is Gabriel's main focus from the point we announce a CostCo trip, walk through the door, stroll the aisles, take the unplanned but mandatory potty stop (announced when we are standing at the warehouse's furthest distance from the restrooms), and prepare to check out.  Schoolwork and reading?  Focus is an issue.  CostCo's snack area?  Focus is Gabriel's first, middle, and last name.

Gabriel, Hannah, and I walked over to the snack area.  Gabriel and I ordered up two churros (his & Mom's) and a chocolate frozen yogurt for Hannah and me to share.  We all sat nearby, waiting for Janette to emerge from one of the long cashier lines a hundred plus feet away.

For Hannah and me, I grabbed two plastic spoons.  We took turns with the chocolate frozen yogurt.  She feinted and jabbed for control of the spoon.  We negotiated, sharing control as the she tasted the yogurt, allowed some to drip out of her mouth, then motioned for the spoon again.  While Hannah and I performed our dance, Gabriel sat beside me, chomping at his churro.

That's when I heard the spoon snap.  Hannah had been chewing on the spoon more than the yogurt.  The snap was short and quiet, but I was paying pretty close attention.  I dove into Hannah's mouth and quickly discovered and extracted the small sliver missing from the spoon in Hannah's mouth.  I compared it to the main spoon fragment, making sure the two pieces fit perfectly together (i.e. no missing remnants in her mouth). 

Mental note:  scratch any non-permanent spoons from the list of things Hannah can put in her mouth (these non-permanent spoons will keep the recently exorcized pacifiers company).

Janette rejoined us soon after.  I relayed the new No-Plastic-Spoons discovery as we finished our desserts. Soon after, with Hannah completely tantrum-less, we headed home to begin our nursing shift.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 02:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

Monday was Hannah's second trache hole closer surgery. She was amazing. She didn't complain as we headed to the hospital. She was calm waiting to check in. In the day surgery room we share with other weeping and disoriented kids, she played the princess. She wanted singing. She knew we had  her portable DVD, and she wanted to watch her Hannah Montana concert DVD not whatever was on PBS. Robert and I, her courtiers, complied.

She was given the relaxation medication before heading down to surgery. Her balance became precarious and she fought laying down. By the time we reached the pre- operation room, her eyes were glassy as she was checking out her hands. The surgeon laughed. "You were given something Hannah, I don't think I've ever seen you that still."

The surgery was quicker then expected. That was new for us, and after thirty minutes, I was called to the recovery room. I was informed that she breathed for herself throughout the surgery. I was so proud. She was waking and her voice was clearer with the trache hole closed. She woke agitated. They put her in my lap to calm her down. Between my singing, her Mp3 player, and the pain medication she was happy.

The nurses enjoyed her player and asked me to turn it up. Within twenty minutes Hannah, was sitting upright in her bed wiggly her head. This is how she dances. Every now and then she said "Go Out."

I think it is one of our fastest surgery trips.

--Mom

P.S. The doctor mentioned it took a bit to get the IV in.

Posted by parents at 11:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Let's give this another try... (Saturday at noon now Wednesday, a week later, at 6pm now)....

After some tons of database issues at our server (Yahoo, if anyone's interested), we may be back up and running.  Thanks to:

*  Barbara at Ther Extras, for letting us know our comments were down

*  The handy search/blog forum that came up when I typed in the error code my computer was shouting at me.  At least it made me think I might be able to fix something (ended up being a problem on Yahoo's end)

On to bigger & better things.  Thanks all for your patience.

-- Rob (Kintropy's Dad)

Posted by Dad at 06:16 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Growing up with Winnie the Pooh, everyone identifies with one character or another.  I was always an Eeyore fan myself.  Something rang both true and absurd in his constant mopiness; it suited me.

I'm not sure to which characters the kids will attach, but I do know one thing:  Hannah will not be claiming Tigger as her favorite.

Last night, one of Hannah's favorite nurses introduced Hannah's new toothbrush:  a Tigger electric toothbrush.  At its base, Tigger sits on a log in an upright, ready-to-pounce position.  His stomach houses the on-off button, and the toothbrush itself sprouts from his skull.  Yes, not only does Tigger have very human traits; Oral B, under what I'm sure is a strict licensing agreement, has transformed Tigger into a family-friendly cyborg!

I was sitting on the couch in the family room when Hannah began to scream.  It wasn't a I'm-not-happy scream; it was a nightmare shriek worthy of B-movie credits. 

I walked back and asked the nurse, "Her head start spinning yet?"  Pictures of Regan danced in my head. 

Hannah's nurse, J, was both comforting Hannah and trying really hard not to laugh, I think, at the strangely virulent reaction Hannah was showing to a toothbrush.  Hannah settled down into sobs for a moment, glanced wearily at the nearby countertop, spotted the toothbrush, and renewed her shrieking.

J worked on comforting Hannah, and as she returned Hannah to her room, Tigger the Terror Toothbrush disappeared.  I walked into Hannah's room, picked her up, and held her.  Her sobs slowly receeded as I sang to her.

Poor Hannah.  Poor Tigger.  I'm hoping she'll find something to love in Pooh.  Or Eeeyore.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 08:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

Don't mistake that twinkle in Hannah's eye for camera red-eye.  The family is singing together in the kitchen, Mom is taking the picture, and Hannah is encouraging us all!

-- Dad

P.S.  Note the Huskies shirts:  football season is almost here.  Preseason football on tv:  can Mom be any happier ;-) 

Posted by Dad at 05:32 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

"Hannah," Janette called, tossing a rolled up ball of fabric into her lap, "put on your shirt."  Janette popped back toward the back of the house - probably Hannah's room - to get something else.

Hannah squinted, processing.  She turned her head right and scanned slowly up and down her arm.  She turned her head left.  She scanned up and down her left arm, turning it as she looked.  Then she looked at me, Gabriel, and Auntie 'O and waited for some assistance.

I clapped for no good reason.  "You got it!  Shirt!"  I was impressed she had made the connection to what Janette had said, had processed it, and had thought through how she might execute the request.

Hannah continued to look at me.  I interpretted.  "Yeah, Dad.  Got it.  Shirt.  Stop.  Really.  You're embarrassing me."

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 02:52 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Up here in the Northwest it has been that time of year where the smell of cotton candy and funnel cakes fill the air. Carnival season is here. In the past couple weeks we have taken the kids to the local carnival and the one just over the border in Washington. I think we are revelling in our new family freedom.

Gabriel has been hopped up on sweets. He loves carnival food. Give him blue cotton candy and an elephant ear and he's a happy boy. (No I don't let him have both on the same day) Hannah's been rocking to the live music. She loves the people watching till she hits a wall and get's way too mentally stimulated and demands to go home or at least to the bathroom to get away from it all.

Something I'm proud about is I got her on a carousel. Gabriel cheered and babbled non-stop to her while she closed her eyes and took in the breeze on her face. She didn't laugh she didn't cry she just absorbed and processed later. I got a hug and kiss when it was done though.

--Mom

Posted by parents at 08:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Last week, I took Hannah to a post op appointment with her ENT(Ear,Nose,Throat) surgeon. I knew we would have some surgery news, but the news he suggested was unexpected. She still has a millimetre size hole in her neck. Hannah won't let it close. I was expecting that the doctor was going to decide to put another stitch in. Nope: it went like this.

The doctor examined her stoma (the hole in her neck). He sighed, straightened in the chair, and backed up toward the sink, resting his right arm on the counter. He looked at the ceiling then stared at her.

Gabriel was demonstrating to the doctor how he could make Hannah laugh. Hannah was laughing at him.

The doctor said "Hannah," [dramatic pause], "what are we going to do with you?"

I laughed. "She always does this to you guys." I'm sure I could see the gears in his head spinning like a person grasping for the solution to a puzzle.

He came to a decision in his head and said, "I'm going to have to go in, cut the whole thing out, and sew it straight."

I interpreted is this as: he is going to cut all the scar tissue out, making a slit in her neck, and then suture those edges together. It is a good idea. Surprising, but a good idea nevertheless. I had a staring off look because I'm a visual thinker. "Ok" I said then my practical side commented "Is that an out patient procedure or will she need to stay in the hospital?"

I'm not sure which he was responding too but he explained further. "Just a stitch won't work because it is healed all the way back."

I visualised this again. The stoma has surface skin all the way around and through to the trachea.

He continued as I adjusted Hannah who was slipping off the examining chair. "It will be a day surgery? Do you have any vacation plans?"

So Hannah is going to have surgery again and all I think about is where are they going to put the IV. Since Hannah has had several surgeries when she was small and she has my fast clotting blood, it is very hard to get an IV in her that works.

It has to be done but it still sucks she has to go through that again.

--Mom

Posted by parents at 10:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

Note:  Not for the faint at heart (or stomach).

Ok, it's not that bad, but I thought I'd give fair warning.  We have a six-year-old boy, and I am about to reveal his secrets.  And six-year-old boys find bodily functions funny (as do their dads).

***

A month of so ago, Gabriel took an entrepreneurial turn:  he decided to open his own restaurant at Bubbie and Zadie's house.  It is an upscale, outdoor venue with a single-item, but daring menu:  rock soup.

Anyone who walks into the backyard while Gabriel is working is drafted into service.  I recently joined him there.

"Dad, do you want to learn how to make rock soup?"

"Eh, well, eh..."

"Great!  Let me show you!"

Gabriel assembled three metal bowls Bubbie and Zadie had donated to his restaurant.  He grabbed a nearby scoop.  "First, you fill this with rocks.  One scoop at a time," he cautioned, looking up at me to confirm I understood.  He demonstrated.  "Now you try."

I took the scoop and contributed one pile of pebbly rocks from the backyard's walking path.

"Good job," Gabriel said.  He took the scoop from me and contributed one himself.  "We take turns," he advised.

After a few minutes, we had three bowls of rocks.

"Next," Gabriel said, picking up a bowl.  "We add the water."  He walked over to the nearby wall fountain.  He dipped the bowl into one of the trickling streams until it was filled to the brim with water.  "You try."

I took a second bowl.  I had only filled this one about half-way with rocks.  I explained to Gabriel that this was the low-calorie version for people on diets (yeah, I'm not much for scooping & playing in the dirt).  I filled it to the top of the rocks with water, eliciting another "Good job!" from Gabriel.

We returned to the walking stone we were using as a prep area.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Let's go on the swing," he offered.  We left our bowls for a moment to use the two-seater, porch-type swing nearby.  We swung a few times, trying different combinations of him pushing off, me pushing off, me braking the motion with my foot, Gabriel looking for the source of the breakage, then admonishing me.

"Ok," he said, "now let's eat."

Gobble, gooble.  Nothing like pretend rock soup in the late afternoon, I thought.

Gabriel made a throwing up sound and turned over his bowl.  The rocks and water splatted and smacked against the walking path stones.

Gabriel beamed, "How do you like my restaurant:  Rock Swing UpChuck?"

I smiled.  "Love it."

Soon afterward, I was reclining on a nearby patch of grass with Hannah.  She and I were talking and singing.  Gabriel stood over me.

"Dad, time to work."

"I'm on break."

"Ok," he said.  Gabriel popped back into the house, looking for more workers to draft into service.

Gabriel played this game for probably an hour before dinner.  He went back outside after dinner to play again by himself.  No sooner had my dad and I finished a conversation about how cool it was that their backyard was a safe place for Gabriel to play by himself, we heard the scream.

I sighed.  Gabriel is an adventurous boy.  Most of our days out end with that sound:  screaming and crying.  It was very, very familar.

Janette and my mom headed out to check on Gabriel.  Soon after, they rushed him inside to the bathroom to clean the inevitable wound.

"What happened?" I asked Janette.

Apparently, Gabriel, while managing his restaurant, came across Bubbie and Zaddie's windmill lawn ornament.  Gabriel spun the wooden windmill blades, admiring inertia in motion.  Then he decided to take a closer look.

Yes, the windmill further taught him about the consequences of interrupting inertia with your face.  

Auntie O' asked Gabriel if he wanted to go back outside and play Rock Swing UpChuck again.

"I'm never playing that again," Gabriel brooded.

By the time we headed home that night, Gabriel had revised his position.  "I mean I'm not going to play that right now, but I might later."

Good news, I thought as Gabriel's former employee, Rock Swing UpChuck would see its star rise once more.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 05:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by parents at 11:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Hannah has her Shows:  Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune.  This is her one hour of tv bliss.  Generally, she perks up during commerical breaks if the music grabs her.  Tonight, a locally produced commerical popped on for a furniture company.

Cue the music:  McHammer - "You Can't Touch This."

Hannah broke out in Tickle-Me-Elmo guffaws.  The fifteen second spot reappeared a minute later.  She laughed harder.

Cue Daddy:  off to the music lair.

Our office is packed with lots of stuff:  too much, actually.  This weekend's project is to get it cleaned up some.  This is also, though, where we store my records.  Thirteen years collecting music, while working in music retail, makes for quite a stack of vinyl and CDs.  Somewhere up there, I was convinced, I had a copy of Falco's Der Kommisar.

Der Kommisar, you ask ('cause I know your are as obssessed about music as I am)?  Rather than grab a copy from somewhere in my old mobile-DJ collection of McHammer's song, I thought I'd go back to one of the major sample sources for the song.  I know, everyone thinks of Rick James' Superfreak as the main sample source, but the bassline always reminds me of Der Kommisar.  So I went searching.  And searching.

"I can't find it," I confessed to Janette fifteen minutes later.

"What?"

"I'm looking for a copy of Der Kommisar."

"Duh-what?"

"Der Kommisar by Falco.  I'm sure I have a copy of it somewhere.  I know I have a twelve-inch of Rock Me Amadeus...."

"Oh, great," Janette sighed.  I had found a Mission, a Focus.  Janette knew this meant potentially hours of searching just to complete the Mission.  She knew I had to complete the Mission, and I would be singularly focused until then.

"I could always buy a new copy," I muttered.

Well, here I am tonight, now the proud owner of cover versions (sigh, not the originals) of Der Kommissar AND Rock Me Amadeus (couldn't find either of them in my records!).  I belong to a legal, subscription mp3 service, and they had decent cover versions of both.

After downloading them earlier, I popped them on to Hannah's mp3 player.  The silly girl's voice at the beginning of Rock Me Amadeus gushed the title, "Oooh, rock me, Amadeus!"

And Hannah laughed hysterically.  I think she found both the song funny and the fact that her mp3 player, long unchanged, had new material on it.  As Mom got her ready for bed, she kept laughing everytime she worked her way back to that song.

When she went to bed, I popped the mp3 player into the bed beside her.  She pushed the button to start the player and beat on the button until she got back to that song.  And she laughed and laughed.  I heard Mom about an hour later notifying Hannah that the player would now be removed from the bed so Hannah could get some sleep.

And I'm sure that went well!

-- Dad

P.S.  Yes, I broke down & purchased an mp3 of "You Can't Touch This" from Amazon.com tonight.  I've loaded into Hannah's player.  I'll bet she'll be surprised in the morning! 

Posted by Dad at 04:15 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)