Sunday, August 29, 2010

School is Cool!

It's late but that's okay. And I'll tell you why: In fifteen minutes it will be tomorrow. And tomorrow is daughter's first day of (pre) school. Yay, daughter! On a much more somber note, the last thing daughter asked wife before bed was "Can I cry at preschool?" Tomorrow will be an interesting day.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

What Did I Get Myself Into?

As readers of this blog may or may not know, I'm a HUGE fan of The University of Notre Dame (and Notre Dame Football). You also could possibly be aware that, since I started writing this blog, it has been peppered with references to Gilmour Academy. Gilmour is a private school - lower, middle and upper - that was founded by the same fine folks who founded Notre Dame. Gilmour faculty don't mind telling you about the affiliation either. Upper school kids are encouraged to volunteer their time at the lower and middle schools and in the community. There are also regular "field trips" to South Bend. You can imagine my joy when daughter was born and I found out about all this. And then came "The Great Push," during which I made it known that no daughter of mine would ever set foot in a Cleveland school. My friends and family scoffed and said "But you live in Cleveland, so chances are..." To which I replied, Gilmour. And then everyone laughed even harder. And now I know why. I'm all for kids volunteering their time and admiring expensive cars and the people that drive them from afar, but now I'm in the thick of it. Last night was parent night for the Montessori preschool and traditional kindergarten. And wife and I were slightly blown away. Everyone is so expensive looking and their cars cost more than my house. There was a Panamera there and that starts at five grand more than what I live in is worth. There were people on boards and people with foundations and people with three and four kids who all go to Gilmour at the same time. To get a sense of what that many kids means monetarily: Montessori preschool is ~10k. The tuition doubles at kindergarten. And I'm expected to give back. Not just with my time but also by donating money to the school. As I sat there in my Docker's from Kohl's (K-Mart) and looked at women's wedding diamonds that were literally the size of blueberries all I could think was Holy Shite. At the end of the night, as wife and I climbed into the five year-old Corolla, we were reduced to pulling out some classic Stuart Smalley. As an added bonus, it's a St Patrick's Day clip. Go Irish! Oh yeah, I did ask and no, I cannot chaperone a South Bend trip.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

On The Daddy Tip # 15

When I first started working in law enforcement I was afraid to use the radio. I had no trouble patrolling my zone(s), pulling people over or just talking to folks. I just didn't like the radio. Partly it was because I think my voice sounds stupid. Mostly it was because there is no way to get on the radio in a polite way. You just wait for some dead air and start talking. Sometimes you can get out what you need to say and sometimes you get stepped on. Either way, you just do it. When I first started, my department was just stopping the use of coded language. We didn't use ten-codes, we used our local ordinance codes. We had 5-5, 5-7, 4-2, 4-7, 4-1 and others. Only problem with that was the code book had been revised and the numbers changed. New people like me got the new books and, unless you could find a senior person to teach them to you, were lost in the dark about the old radio terminology. Thirteen years later I still don't know which is which for 5-5- and 5-7; one is alcohol and one is marijuana. And here's an anecdote: I once had to respond to backup a guy who had caught a guy doing 4-2 activity. I didn't know whether to go lights and sirens so I drove lit up halfway and dark the rest of the way. Turned out, 4-2 is "deviant sexual behavior" between two men. All of this round-a-bout filler crap brings me to my Tip o' the day: Use regular English around your kids and talk to them like they are adults. They might not understand everything but, when they don't, have a teachable moment and tell them to ask their mother. Wife and I decided, long before daughter was born, to not hide what things are called. That's right, my two year-old knows that girls have vaginae and boys have penises. She does not realize, however, that it is not good social etiquette to ask my wife if the man in line in front of them at the grocery store has a penis. Nor does she realize that, when Dad is in the shower, it is not okay to ask him where his penis is. Those are the finer points that we must work on.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Remember That Guy? Yeah, He's Back....

Contrary to what all those drug companies tell you, depression can be funny. You can be bopping along, ready to enjoy a week and a half of vacation and the next thing you know, you're standing in AutoZone and in walks an Amish guy who puts your "awesome" vacay beard to shame (true story). So it has, or had, been for me over the time I've been away from the blog-o-sphere. I do tend toward the weird side of things and depression is one of them. I think it's just because I think Kurt Cobain was a genius that I suffer from depression and IBS (which I love to call Crohn's Disease), although I have been officially diagnosed with both. The last time I posted, I was getting set to go to New York for a camping trip. Well, that didn't happen. And then I was getting set to go to PA for a camping trip. Some of that happened. I went to PA, I hiked for five hours, I set up my camp, I got lonely, I packed up my camp, I drove home. See, funny. LOL! Usually, when I get down, I function okay. I go to work, I cook, I eat. My main depression "tell" is that I don't want to be seen by people. I don't start drinking, I don't get suicidal and I don't kill other people, I just hide. Kinda like Sasquatch. Because I am the law I can pretty much sit in my office all day and only go out for calls if I feel crappy. Then, it's straight home to cook and eat. One of the reasons why I got rid of my Grand Cherokee was this hide response. It had dark tinted windows that allowed me to hide, lengthening my episodes. So, it was funny (there's that word again) for me to get out in the woods - alone - and get lonely. Luckily for me wife is kinda crazy, too. She can understand my pain, although she still bugs me about the money I spent on camping stuff. In case you're wondering, I'm better now. I'm out in public (even tho I hate people; see: Trip to Lowe's), I'm doing what needs done and I'm actually happy(ish). To top it all off, if you can see and read, I'm Tweeting (@NakiaDJohn). Why? Because I'm awesome! And I'm working on building my platform. What's a platform. Well, kids, a platform is a term coined by writing professionals. In short: it is you. Your exposure in the world, your marketability, your advertisement for yourself. Why am I working on my platform? Cause I write. This blog, and The Lost Ranger, were originally for practice. Just a public writing exercise. Helping me get my thoughts down and out. This, and my super childish imagination, has lead me to start my first novel. I won't tell you what it's about just in case I stop writing (or it sucks) but I'm on my way. I've also submitted a couple short stories; one to Albedo for the Aeon Award and one to Black Static. I've got my fingers crossed and my face to the sun. And it's ninety degrees so I'm going back inside.