Audrey Funny Stories

Here is the story that Audrey told us at dinner today:

Audrey has a pet shark that, sigh, misses her. His name is Splash. His last name is Hammerhead. They made friends together in the ocean. All the (note the eyes searching the air for the right word) "oceaners" were very nice. She and Splash even rode on a sting ray. Splash is purple. He's going to do a circus at our house tomorrow, and jump through a hole in the air above a swimming pool. (We do not have a swimming pool. Details.) Splash is going to climb a ladder, jump off the diving board, do a flip and poke a hole with his tail in the top of the circus tent. Splash can write. He is old enough to use a marker. And to go to Operation Purple summer camp. He is friends with Bubblegum Icecream Bear. Splash is currently doing lots of stuff. Fishticks and sharksticks are his favorite food. He shares his sharksticks with Audrey. He has five packs of them-Audrey says they're really good when he lets them cook for four minutes. Splash lifts the wall clock up to the ceiling-he is that strong. He is friends with Jack, the dog. Because they like to play with each other. When Audrey brought Jack with her, he was happy about that. Dad brought Audrey a car that was popular: a Camowo. AKA a Camaro. (Inferring from the context clues, that is how Audrey and Jack got to the ocean to visit Splash.) Splash has teeth-sharp teeth, but he doesn't bite Audrey. He has four teeth. Splash is super good. He doesn't bite and he doesn't jump. Splash has a super cape that is purple. His super power is to push his bum down and lift his fins up alternately. (Audrey demonstrated this and it is an upside push up with leg lifts.) Fortunately, Splash is Audrey's size. He is larger, just like her. Jack and Splash and Bubblegum are all friends. Splash can open the front door without keys; he uses his tail. Ta-da, and poof, the door gets unlocked. (Recall that last week we had to break into the house with a toy credit card from someone down the street.) Splash paints and files Audrey's nails. Then he bends the nail file in half. Stay tuned for another installment of the story of Splash. She is going to visit him tomorrow in her favorite purple outfit. She thinks he will roll over for her tomorrow.

BTW, Audrey picked out "Twilight" to read at Barnes and Noble today. I told her that she has to be older to read Twilight. When I picked the book up from her in order to put it back on the shelf, I realized that she had picked out the Spanish language version. So I told her that she could not read this Twilight because it was in Spanish. She said that she could read Spanish because, "Zapatos." I couldn't see her face, but she might as well have been saying "Duh" and it sounded like she was rolling her eyes. Zapatos means shoes.

The Boston Bucket List, Part I

Everyone has heard the term "Bucket List." We have a sort of Boston bucket list of all the things I want to do before we move. Being a natural at manoeuvring around the city on the "T" and going to Fenway Park to watch the Red Sox are on the list.

Yesterday afternoon, I rode the T for the first time. The tickets cost $2.00, but since all I had was a $20 to pay for the train and parking at the station, a handful of dollar coins rattled around in my bag the rest of the evening. I had to ask a foreign college-age guy how to buy my ticket because I could not figure out the machine. Once I realized that I should be ordering a subway ticket and not a commuter rail ticket, it was much easier. Who knew that I was on a subway that never technically went underground. My "train" suffered from electrical issues, so we stopped a few times along the way. The lights and AC were turning on and off, and the drivers were yelling indiscernible things to each other, running through the train, stopping to talk to the drivers of the trains going the opposite way. Finally, the driver yelled something I could understand: they were renaming the route to "The Fenway Express." Fortunately I do not have an iPhone 4G, so I could make a call to Neil, who was waiting for me at the last stop before Fenway, to change plans. I got off the train and followed the mass of Red Sox shirts to meet Neil and walk to the park. The parking downtown was $30. My parking at the T station was $6. I cannot figure out why anyone would park downtown...

We had seats a few rows behind first plate, and I thought I should dress nice for my first trip to Fenway. I was even prepared with my flippies to change into for the 5 block walk to the ball park. The humidity was a surprise, though. I might as well have been in Texas for the sweat ruining my freshly blow-dried hair. The girls wearing Red Sox tshirts and jean cut-offs who were sitting in our seats saw my white pique slacks and made faces at each other. When I made eye contact with one of them, and her eyes got wide, her friend looked up. They realized that I knew what they were communicating to each other. They had the decency to look slightly ashamed. Neil missed all of this while he was trying to determine where we should sit. We sat behind them, and while Neil was corroborating with another fan that those girls were in fact in our seats, he happened to knock his soda onto the floor in front of us. The girls freaked out, but only their sneakers got wet. Neil felt horrible, especially when we had to kick them out of our seats five minutes later because someone needed the seats we were sitting in. I felt less horrible for them. As I explained to Neil later that evening to help him feel better, there's this thing, it's called karma.

I enjoyed my first trip to Fenway; it reminded me of hanging out at Aggie baseball games with Neil before Syd was born. I found it very relaxing. I was happy that I bought a $1 bottle of ice cold water outside the gates because the water was $4 once I crossed through the line. It's amazing how the magic of Fenway extends to its bottled water. It was interesting how they scanned bags and tickets on the street outside the park so that you could walk through all of the stores and restaurants outside of the park. What a great idea-Fenway can offer a greater variety of food while still pleasing the baseball purists who only want peanuts, popcorn, and hotdogs to to be sold inside the park. Although I was not a Rangers fan before moving to Boston, I had to keep myself from clapping for the Texas team. It seems like I should watch some ESPN so I know who the good Red Sox players are next time. And I should wear shorts and a tshirt and running shoes and a pony tail. The guy who checked my bag was not phased by the espadrilles I was carrying. I never changed back into those three inch sandals and ended up with my pants rolled up to avoid sticky diet coke and other things that might have stained the hem of my new pants. All in all, I can't wait to go back!

On an unrelated note, my favorite kid-ism is the term "Mommy Gun." It is a concept similar to calling "Shot Gun." Whoever calls "Mommy gun" first gets to sit next to me. It makes me smile every time I hear it.

Learning from our mistakes

If you have read my blog, you have heard me rant about the horribly inefficient and poorly executed post-Katrina financial aid. Remember those debit cards for $2000 that were given to practically anyone from the Gulf Coast region? Remember the amount of fraud that occurred and that the government is still attempting to recover that money. Even as a cap was successfully placed to contain the Gulf oil spill, the media railed against BP for only paying half of the claims they had received.

"Give them $25,000, give them $50,000 while you work out his claim," said Plaquemines Parish President Billy Nungesser.

What? It's a claim for $5,000. From what I have read, there are people who cannot receive their check because they fail to fill out the forms correctly. I am sure that there is a back log on the paperwork, as well. Our own Needham library has a back log of library books getting checked in that stretches back five days. People do have to go home at night, eat an occasional meal, get paid. While it seems like only medical and surgical residents and pilots have legal work hour restrictions, BP cannot work their claims department to the ground.

Some government officials say that an empty marina is more proof of lost wages than paperwork. These bureaucrats are thrilled to demand someone else empty their coffers to please the people that they themselves cannot. I do not understand why these people cannot apply for TANF, Food Stamps and WIC, unemployment checks, and even short-term Medicaid or a county hospital system gold card to meet their acute needs until they receive a BP settlement check. Why aren't we hearing stories about the government helping these people? Oh, wait- it's because our government of lawyers sees a deep pocket. (Sorry to my lawyer friends and family that actually have integrity. This gross generalization excludes you.)

What company in the world hands out money without a paper trail? Consider the process of making a return at Target: you practically have to give them your entire family's social security numbers and hand over your first born to receive a refund. Any single item over $20 does not deserve a refund. And if you have made three returns without a receipt in a year, you are not permitted to return anything, even for a store credit. And BP is supposed to hand over $20B without verifying anything?

These obtuse bureaucrats are the same people who railed against Enron and Bernie Madoff. Wasn't Enron's undoing the ability to hide their dishonesty in their paperwork? And yet, at every turn, there are people who demand this of BP.

Please, BP, learn from our mistakes. Do not be bullied into throwing money at a problem.

The Animal Farm and Global Warming

On Sunday, July 11th, The Washington Post ran a great article by Stan Cox about our over-dependence on air conditioning. We learn that air conditioning dependence is a vicious cycle of heat waves resulting in increased AC usage, which, in turn, releases toxins into the environment, which leads to global warming. And so we turn on the AC again. According to the author, it is unconscionable to depend on air conditioning when we are not experiencing a heat wave.

Our planet would be better served if we patterned our lives after the "simpler times" of the previous century. Well, maybe not the part where abortion and drugs were aberrations, but the part where we suffered mercilessly in the heat, walked to the grocery store every morning to buy fresh food for dinner because we did not have a Frigidaire, and hung our laundry outside in the sun to dry. And used an outhouse.

And possibly, some people, who were in charge, would be exempt from this because they would have important business to attend to downtown. Or across the country. Or in France. (Oh wait, no one does business in France. Not even the French.) Fortunately for us, the author is more idealistic, and less hypocritical, than 98% of the heads of Big Gov't and Big Business.

Here is my favorite part of this insane article: the author's take on how rationing air conditioning would effect the business sector.

"In a world without air conditioning, a warmer, more flexible, more relaxed workplace helps make summer a time to slow down again. Three-digit temperatures prompt siestas. Code-orange days mean offices are closed. Shorter summer business hours and month-long closings -- common in pre-air-conditioned America -- return.

Business suits are out, for both sexes. And with the right to open a window, office employees no longer have to carry sweaters or space heaters to work in the summer. After a long absence, ceiling fans, window fans and desk fans (and, for that matter, paperweights) take back the American office.

Best of all, Washington's biggest business -- government -- is transformed. In 1978, 50 years after air conditioning was installed in Congress, New York Times columnist Russell Baker noted that, pre-A.C., Congress was forced to adjourn to avoid Washington's torturous summers, and "the nation enjoyed a respite from the promulgation of more laws, the depredations of lobbyists, the hatching of new schemes for Federal expansion and, of course, the cost of maintaining a government running at full blast."

Post-A.C., Congress again adjourns for the summer, giving "tea partiers" the smaller government they seek. During unseasonably warm spring and fall days, hearings are held under canopies on the Capitol lawn. What better way to foster open government and prompt politicians to focus on climate change?"

Where is Normal Rockwell when we need him? Can you not just imagine a delighted Nancy Pelosi under the canopy fanning herself to keep her make up from running down her face? On the other hand, I can imagine America's most powerful CEO's hoofing it to work, walking up all those stairs to their corner offices, using an abacus because computers use electricity, which run on, gasp, fossil fuels. No one would wear suits, so there would be no way of guessing which person was the CEO or the secretary or the janitor. What a model of equality.

Did you know that there is a "Take Back Your Time" movement? Google it; on their website you can print out posters to hang...somewhere. (France is their favorite model: employee and environmentally friendly. It has worked out pretty well for everyone involved over there. Greece, too.) As expressed by the TBYT leaders, communes and universal health care are a natural extension of this low AC, environmentally friendly lifestyle.

Certain aspects of living a simpler life, such as eating delicious, fresh food, living within your means, being a good steward of the Earth and it's resources, and spending quality time with your family beget a sense of abundance. Great blessings come when we live conscientiously and with integrity. But when the government forces us to choose a certain path, that seemingly little loss of freedom quickly translates to the loss of inalienable rights granted by our Creator.

One hallmark of Facism is that there is a group of people making decisions because they know better than the public. As in Hillary Clinton thinks that it takes a village to raise a child (The government needs to run commercials in public places about how to care for a child. BTW, it takes a village to support the parents, mom in particular, as they care for their child.) As in the government should tell us what an acceptable level of comfort is. (Turn that AC off until it hits 100F outside.) As in the government should tell us where we should live and what transportation to use. (Urban sprawl is a big no-no. You don't need that back yard, that's what a community park is for. Oh, and trade in that gas-guzzler.) As in the government should tell us how we can best pursue happiness. (You should not go into business unless you want to help a struggling non-profit. You should not go into Law. You should go into a service, like a teacher or a nurse or a maid. You don't want creepy student loans.)**

Unlike the romantic ideas of this Washington Post author, we all know that sacrificing to save the environment is the burden of the little man. Just ask Al Gore. The oceans would never dare rise all the way up to his curb on the beach in Malibu. George Orwell says it best, as always, "ALL ANIMALS ARE EQUAL, BUT SOME ARE MORE EQUAL THAN OTHERS"

In conclusion, I grew up believing that the role of government was to perform those tasks that were too big for private industry. Roads, money, defense. It turns out that protecting the environment is a pretty big job. The role of the government is central to this important debate. Should they use their political capital and influence to dictate thermostat settings? What a waste.

**Both President and Mrs. Obama have made statements to this effect in the past few years.

PS-If the government had less regulation on the Oil and Gas industry, we would still be in the same situation in the Gulf. So, for all of the money the government spent regulating this industry, we have nothing but an entire ecosystem and millions of lives destroyed. Fabulous. I'd like an itemized accounting of that budget, Mr. Obama and, to some extent, Mr. Bush. Thx.

Beach Day

At the beach outside of Essex.











Ainsley hangs out on the rocks, looking in the tidal pools for little snails. She found two small ones and one rather large one. She named them Mr Fluffernutter, Mr Pricklepants, and Peepers were their names.







Zach jumps off the rocks into the freezing water.

















This might possibly be my favorite picture of all time.

July pictures

The face of mischief.

















Zach in his Boston Red Sox hat.












Zach running at track.












Zach and Audrey watch fireworks on the 4th.













We wonder what Audrey is thinking about.

Pictures from June

Zach and Audrey at the Smithsonian.











Zach was happy to find C3PO because Darth Vader was "sleeping" in the back of the museum while we were there.

















Neil took this picture from the base of the Washington Monument.











Sydney and a few friends on the last day of school.











Ainsley and her best friend from school, Cassidy.