Weaning, on a Jet Plane…

My beautiful wife is from Germany. Someday, I’ll tell the story of how we met and fell in love. But for now, I’ll just say that she is a native German speaker, and had not had any experience speaking American. She’d learned English English in school in Germany, so she learned a lot of what she knows now by living here. To my credit (I think), I only blatantly took advantage of this once.

One day she was singing Leaving on a Jet Plane by John Denver. I sang along, but munged the lyrics to be leaning on a jet plane, and made up a story about how the guy singing the song was waiting for his flight to leave a hangar, and was just leaning against the plane while he was waiting. I kept a straight face, and she bought it. I walked funny for a week or two after she found out, and I swear my coffee tasted like saliva for a month or two after that. You don’t wanna mess with my wife. She’s nice. But she gets even. And she’s sneaky.

IB is still breast feeding. She feeds once in the morning, at nap time, and bedtime (and sometimes during the night). It’s definitely less than she used to, but she still depends on the boob. Specifically, it’s the right boob (just in case anyone was curious). During the day, she drinks watered down juice, and eats pretty much what we do at mealtime.

My beautiful wife is done. Our beautiful toddler is not.

So the question is, to wean or not to wean? When should it happen? What’s a good way to go about it? IB does not drink milk at this point. Even chocolate milk goes in, and then comes right back out. Do we just endure a few months weeks days of screaming until she’s over it, or should we just let it happen naturally?

I should clarify my own position in all this: I really don’t have one. I’m happy to have my wife’s milk duds (her words) converted back into her former maidenly bosom, but for me, the holy bond of breast feeding is non-Dad territory. Baby blanket? No problem. I can even dispose of binkies. But breaking the bond between child and mother at this most basic level is where I draw the line. I will support my wife, of course, but we’re both curious to know what you think.

I can’t blame you if you don’t have an opinion, seeing as I don’t myself, so here’s an alternate question: what’s your favorite John Denver song? Everyone has one, right?

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

The waiting is the hardest part
Every day you see one more card
You take it on faith, you take it to the heart
The waiting is the hardest part

Back where I’m from (the 80s), Tom Petty was huge. And, for better or worse, his songs carried me through some of the most difficult moments of my angstacular teenage life. I certainly felt like a Refugee in 1980 as a sophomore in high school, before finding my place as a band geek. After my parents sold their house in Spokane, Don’t Come Around Here No More played in my head whenever I smelled lilacs or burning aluminum (we lived near Kaiser Aluminum’s Trentwood facility). Free Falling perfectly described how I felt in 1989, between jobs and trying to make it in Seattle. And in 1990. And 1991.

Today, Tom Petty is once again keeping me company at a critical time in my life. As I wait, I’m reminded of how many people have helped and encouraged me, and kicked my butt when I’ve needed it. I’m positive that I’ll have good news to share, soon. To my bloggy friends, RL friends, and family, thank you.

The waiting is the hardest part.

Boom Boom Pow

I’m a big fan of gimmick rock. I loved bands like Kiss, who would use any excuse to set off a flash pot on stage – not to mention the awesome makeup that was imitated faithfully by the boys in my neighborhood every Halloween during my early teen years. I also loved the ‘glam bands’ of the eighties – the bigger the hair the better. Poison comes to mind, as perhaps the greatest hair band of all time, in my opinion.

I had a couple of ideas for gimmicks of my own. One was based on the ever-increasing trend to overuse bass in music production. Always one to jump to the logical conclusion of a trend (no matter how ridiculous), my plan was to invent a 5-story bass drum with a hydraulic hammer. In a live concert, the effect would be incredible, the sound from the drum literally causing everything within a square mile or two to vibrate. I’d call the new musical style (sure to copied by everyone) “Boom,” and a new musical genre (or fad) would be born.

My second idea would take a bit more work. Imagine a Youtube hand-held video of a deserted corn field somewhere in Kansas. Lights appear in the sky, a UFO descends, and an alien band beams down and plays a couple of alien-sounding songs, that somehow conform to the conventions of “Earth” music (I-IV-V chord progressions, instruments that sound vaguely like electric guitars, etc.). The only audience would be a small group of fifty people that happened to be driving by the corn field that night, and also happened to spread the word via Youtube or their own blogs. The goal would be to perform in an open-air stadium, complete with the UFO effect. I guess I should contact David Copperfield…

Hey, I’ve been gone for a while. I was hoping to blog about how I’ve found a job, and everything is A-OK, but this is not the case. My most recent interview was with Amazon.com, and while I thought I was a good fit, Amazon.com thought otherwise. I checked their whole site, but was unable to even buy a job. Seriously. But my job search presses on, and we are no immediate danger of losing everything we own and love. I guess I felt a little embarrassed about still not having a job, but it feels good to blog the truth – show my face again, warts and all. I can’t promise I’m back for good, or even that I will have interesting blog posts, but I’m here today. To my faithful friends who have tried to keep in contact with me over the last year, I’m sorry I haven’t returned more love until now. Thank you all. I have no idea of where I’m going from here, or what our little lives have in store.

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