Archive for March, 2007

There goes the neighborhood

March 31, 2007 By: nooccar Category: House

We enjoy our neighborhood and last year decided to invest some money into our house and stay awhile. The people are nice. We have the quiet, single guy who never leaves his house, the talkative neighborhood gossip who was here since the first house was built, the odd neighbor whose kids smoke pot in her yard, and we have the girl whose mother had bars put on her window so the boys wouldn’t climb in late at night. Now this girl was quite odd for a few years and we’re really only see her late at night sitting on random boys’ cars out front of her house smoking and drinking who-knows-what. Anyway, in the last few months she’s gotten friendlier and always says hello to us. She dropped out of high school and doesn’t go to college, and she has the sweetest mother.

Last week I discovered this girl in a neighbor’s yard pulling weeds. Where we live everyone has desert front yards and in the spring there are a ton of weeds. A landscaper said he’d pull them all and clean it up for over $100. So I saw this girl’s mother and she said the girl had been bored and had been pulling weeds. The nosy neighbor said the girl is bipolar and is on new happy pills. So I came home last week at about 10pm and she was out pulling weeds in the dark. I went over and told her to do my whole yard and we’d pay her well. I think she agreed to it. I wasn’t too sure. Most of the conversations I’ve had with her have been like discussing painting with Dali.

Friday night on the way out for the evening, there was this girl. Pulling weeds in little black hotpants and a skimpy tank top. I thanked her for pulling weeds. When the babysitter showed up, the only thing she asked was "Who’s the naked girl in your yard?"

Purses & Bracelets

March 23, 2007 By: nooccar Category: Claire, Parenthood

This morning Claire and I were headed out to see Momma at work, and before we left the house I kept telling her to go get her milk from the coffee table. She kept giving me this odd look and finally went into the living room. If you’ve ever been a parent, then you know that it’s a HUGE problem if your two year old gets amazingly quiet and you can’t see her. So I headed toward the living room to find her coming towards me. Wrapped up in her little arms were her crayon, coloring book, milk, Snow White trading card, bracelet, and cell phone (Pap pap’s old one with a dead battery). She gave me this look like, "Dada, ALL OF THIS HAS TO COME WITH ME OR I WILL FALL OVER RIGHT NOW!" So we found a really really huge bag and put everything in it. She could barely carry it to the car, and even though I had an idea of where’d I’d like to go run our errands, I decided the first stop was going to be Goodwill where I would find her some kind of Claire sized purse that she could put all her stuff in.

We headed straight there, and started walking through the store until I found the luggage/purse/bag rack. I first found a Winnie the Pooh kid sized backpack, but we’re not really hooked on Winnie the Pooh and the colors were Pooh poo color. While looking at that one, another caught my eye. It was this horizontal stripped pale blue, navy, pale yellow, and payne grey dealio that just needed a Kate Spade logo on the side to finish it off. The price said $2.19 so I tossed it to her. It took a few minutes, but she forgot about the Pooh bag (Thank, God!). We paid for that and a few Daddy toys before heading to the truck. She immediately filled up her purse with her stuff from the larger bag and had no problems with zipper. I told her to say "purse" and she said "Puuuurrp".

We went off to see Momma at work. Claire clomped in with her barrette holding back her hair, her bracelet on her wrist, her spaghetti strapped shirt over jeans and Crocs, and Daddy in tow.

Japanese Tea Gardens

March 20, 2007 By: nooccar Category: Uncategorized

March07_SanFranscisco183, originally uploaded by nooccar.

I just love this picture of Donna and Claire at the Japanese Tea Gardens in Golden Gate Park. I had not been here since I went with Dan a decade ago, and I love sharing this with my family now. If someone told me then that I’d be back in a decade with my wife and two year old daughter I would’ve wanted to hurry up and get there so I could meet Claire. (Donna I had already met by then.)

San Francisco

March 19, 2007 By: nooccar Category: Friends, holidays, Leisure, Travel

No matter how often I fly to San Francisco I cannot believe how much I love that city. The first time I flew there was in late 1996 for New Year’s. Dan and I visited there and stayed in San Bruno. Somewhere on my laptop I have pages and pages of entries from when we were there and the rain and the youth hostels. I loved that trip and have gone back 4 more times since then. I went back for a few days to hit the aquarium and the city in 1998, then I took Donna up there a few summers ago. Last April I was up there for a conference and got together with my friends for dinner. Now this past weekend I was able to take Claire to California. We have wonderful friends who have lived there for over 20 years who went to high school with my mother. Actually, they knew each other since diapers. MaryAnne & Susan have been there for 25 & 20 years respectively. MaryAnne & Susan have begged us to bring Claire up since last year, so we decided to take Claire up for Spring Break.

We were staying back at MaryAnne & Bill’s house where they have a nice sized house with a guest wing in Redwood City, CA about 20 miles from the City. MaryAnne had asked us what we wanted to do while we were there, and I really had no real clue. I’ve done the really touristy stuff, and this trip was balancing friend time with sight seeing time. We never had to fly with a car seat before so we bought this fancy schmancy bag and everything, but when we got to the gate Southwest told us we could stick Claire and her seat in a plane seat since there was a ton of room. That was cool, and even though she didn’t sleep, we still didn’t have to hold her while she squirmed for two hours.

The first day was to the Monterey Aquarium where we’d show Claire all the Otters, Sea Lions, and fish. I was there in 1998 for a few hours by myself, but it was nothing like it was this time. There was interaction and games, and we were armed with our new free Babies R Us stroller, so we were set. We beelined it for the tide pools where Claire could stick her hands in the tanks to touch starfish and maybe a Bat Ray. Daddy got to touch the Bat Ray but it wouldn’t go close enough to Claire. It was as if it knew she may over eagerly jump into the water and ride it around giggling. The other thing she began doing about this time (or a few days earlier) is saying "What that?" "What doing?" She will point and point and point at things and scream "What that!?" at the top of her lungs, and MaryAnne pointed out that the answers are as vast as the universe. If the door green, or is it a door, or is it a portal from space to space. What is it? That’s a good question, Claire.

Friday we spent with Susan, Maryanne’s sister. I’d not been to the Haight since 1997 and Golden Gate Park the same winter. Susan has been in California for 20 years and never went there either, so we piled into her Monterey and took off. Claire fell asleep along the way, so the two of them sat in the car outside the Japanese Tea Garden while Donna and I went to explore. We found a cool botanical gardens on several acres. Each part was a different part of the world and the plants that grew there were indicative of that region. When Claire finally got up, the four of us tramped into the Tea Gardens and looked around for a couple hours before dropping into a couple wooden stools to have some green tea. Next we hit the Haight, where the hippies and everyone else gather on the corners to sell their wares or to buy someone’s Else’s. There was some story I once knew about everyone living with Jerry Garcia down the street from that very corner, but I couldn’t remember the whole thing. But even without the story, Donna was excited about the shopping and spent too much money on jewelry and a jewelry holder in the shape of a model’s dress from a hip-hop guy who had no idea how much to charge. We walked the Upper Haight for another two hours before hitting the Fish Market in SanMateo for dinner. I was adventurous and had Muscles, Oysters, Squid, Clams, Scallops, and Halibut. All of which was over priced and good (for $25 I had probably 4 oz of fish!). We had a yummy dinner before Claire crashed on the way home. It was a long day.

Saturday Bill and MaryAnne acquiesced to humor the internal tourist in me and agreed to take Claire to see the Sea Lions on Pier 39. We stopped by a ~100 year old apartment building Bill’s family owns in Cow’s Hollow where we dropped off some sinks for upgrades, before parking out near Ghiradelli Square. MaryAnne wondered why we were parking so far up the coast, but I though nothing of it until later. We stopped in the coolest shoe store that sold Merrel’s & Keen’s, but Donna didn’t find anything for her trip to Europe this summer and MaryAnne had been looking for a shirt to buy Claire. There was a cute pink hoodie that looked like it would fit a three year old. The lady wanted $7.99 for it, and the fog had rolled in, so Claire got it. We rolled the sleeves and she was cute as a bear. We loved it on her. We were hungry and wanted to get some chowder. I’d remembered going to Boudin’s last spring, so we searching and Donna was worried we’d never find it. I finally called and it was another block down along Fisherman’s Wharf. Everyone wanted to sit down, but the restaurant was about $10 more than just eating in the cafe line on the first floor. Claire was crashing soon, but we still had to see those sea lions. MaryAnne was cold and tired, so she said she’d sit with the truck that Bill had now trudged back a mile to get. MaryAnne parked their ’92 huge ass Suburban that was a big as Moby Dick (which was cool since she parked near a Wyland Wall) in a bus lane while we walked to the pier. The pier has gotten even more and more touristy since I was there 10 years ago, but it was still cool. Claire slept part of the way, but then woke to see the "puppies!" which is what she calls every animal she doesn’t know. The sea lions weren’t close to us, and that sucked, but the view was nice. Sail boats adorned the bay from Pier 39 to Alcatraz and out towards the Golden Gate. By this time we were all worn out, and were ready to head out of the city. We took a short drive up Telegraph Hill to Coit Tower for a photo op and then headed out of town.

Today we sat around did very little. We did go to the farmer’s market this morning, and I really wish I lived somewhere less southwest-y and cooler. Ryan and Laura moved to Oregon & North California is beautiful but God-awful expensive. Donna reiterated not wanting to be in the desert forever, and I agree. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon, but it’s something to consider. Somewhere with rain, green foliage, trees, hills. Somewhere we can sit out on the porch and just enjoy where we live so much more than all of this. It’s March, and before I go out tomorrow I need to find shorts somewhere stored away. We’re back now from our trip, and it was wonderful. Everyone already misses us, and Claire did get her own seat on the plane. Daddy & Claire slept all the way home, and we’re looking forward a quiet week around the house.

Picoult, Jodi Nineteen Minutes

March 13, 2007 By: nooccar Category: Books, Reviews

From time to time over the course of the past year I’d see Jodi Picoult books on the shelves at my favorite Barnes & Noble, or I’d read reviews of books like My Sister’s Keeper in my "Entertainment Weekly" magazines I keep in the bathroom. But I never really thought I’d read any of her books. Nothing actually caught my eye, until last weekend.

While in Baltimore a colleague’s young daughter mentioned that Picoult had a new book dealing with a high school shooting. Was it too soon? I don’t think it was. 9/11 was more recent and they had three movies about that, and this book doesn’t attempt to be Columbine (or the plethora of other school shootings) but it does address the same issues. Upon my return to Arizona, I went on Amazon and searched for the book. I knew it was fairly new and Picoult wrote it. Scanning her titles, I came across Nineteen Minutes and immediately knew it was the correct book. No one needs to be told where she got her title.

A few days later when I opened the book to begin it, the first page said "March 6, 2007" and chills crawled up my spine as I glanced at my own watch that read "March 7, 2007". Even before I began the book, I knew it could be now. It can be here. It can be anywhere. My wife hated high school and I, personally, relive it daily, but what would happen in this book? It began with a journal entry from Peter Houghton, a slight boy who was terminally teased in a small New Hampshire town by everyone from his best friend from kindergarten to his own older brother. The novel begins in media res with the school shooting and then we begin our story of how he got to this point. Picoult simply tells us where we are in the narrative with chapter titles like "First Day of Kindergarten" or "10 Days After".

As I began this book I was confused by the plethora of characters introduced immediately, but as I read, I realized they would all play important parts to the narrative of the novel. For example, Alex Courmier is the mother of one of the survivors, a girl named Josie, who witnessed the murder of her boyfriend, Matt. Alex a law student and later a defense attorney who got pregnant out of wedlock and didn’t want to keep her baby. Eventually she gave birth to Josie, and later became the sitting judge on the shooting trial. And Lacy, the midwife who loved watching babies born into her arms, commented on how much potential children had, but later when she raced to the school to make sure her only living son was ok, she was informed he’d been taken into custody for killing 10 students and wounding 19 others. And Patrick the investigating detective who lived alone and had no real life outside his job; the man who rushed into the school, arrested Peter Houghton, and carried the blacked out Josie out the front of the school. And Jordan, the defense attorney, who agreed to take the case while holding his own infant son because everyone should have a fair trial.

The book weaves these characters and several others through the narrative that led up to "That Day" and then forward in time through the trial and culminating in the one year anniversary, as two characters stand at the old site of the shooting where, in a newly renovated atrium, 10 white chairs sat for the 10 victims. They watched the world continue around them and discussed the hopes, dreams, and despair from a town trying to heal itself from years of hurt.

Growing Up an Accountant

March 12, 2007 By: nooccar Category: Claire, Parenthood

I park in a dirt/gravel parking lot next to the tennis courts at work. Typically when I park the stroller next to the truck after work, Claire tries to slide down under the safety bar. I end up lifting it so she doesn’t scratch her belly. This time, as I packed all my bags, papers, and empty coffee mug in to the truck, Claire picked up an empty Gatorade lid and an empty water bottle lid. She took one and scooped rocks into it, then she poured her little pile into the other little lid. She kept doing this like she was sharking martinis.

I stood there for several minutes smiling and watching her play in the dirt, but then I realized that if we didn’t get a move on it, we’d be late for my evening job. I grabbed her and she wouldn’t let go of those little lids for all the rice in China. She held onto the lids like hermit crab pinchers and wouldn’t let go. Eventually I pried them from her hands, and she screamed and screamed!! I felt badly for her, because I felt like she’d never be creative because I stopped her from playing in the dirt. I felt like Rosseau was rolling over in her grave, and I felt like I just made her be an accountant like my dad, who has no creativity whatsoever.

DadBloggers: Feb post

March 10, 2007 By: nooccar Category: dadbloggers

I totally forgot to link to my Feb 2007 post. So here you go.

Pollack, Neal. Alternadad

March 10, 2007 By: nooccar Category: Books, Reviews

We had dinner and Red Lobster tonight after finally breaking down and buying our first umbrella stroller, and while we waited for our deep friend shrimp and shoved Cheddar Bay Biscuits into our daughter’s gullet, I mentioned how much I loved reading Alternadad by Neal Pollack last weekend. Donna told me I should write a review and send it to Doug at Even though I recently posted there, I wrote the following review after we got home. I am sure Doug will post it soon, but I wanted to put it here, too.

Pollack, Neal. Alternadad (2007)

 As a high school teacher I come across new books all of the
time, and recently when I was reading Time magazine on my throne there
was a column written by one of my favorite columnists (James
). The topic of that article was about
Gen-Xers growing up and having children, while trying to maintain their youth
and ideals. Poniewozik mentioned a new book called Alternadad
by Neal Pollack, whose most recent book is about coming to terms with marriage
and having children while still maintaining his own identity.

 My wife and I have read for years now, and we use
to talk about Jon & Heather Armstrong like we knew them personally.
Pollack, in Alternadad, writes like he could be the male version of
Heather Armstrong. I began this book on a cross country flight and read over
half of it before I landed. That weekend while I was at conference I finished
the entire book. It began with Pollack dating various women and running around
town to a plethora of concerts. It continued to him meeting his wife and her
getting pregnant. And it culminated in the experiences of trying to raise a
baby and toddler on the Austin city limits.

Pollack, who has written several non-fiction books, pours
his own experiences as a stay-at-home father trying to raise his son and live
his life with his family. It details the time they lived in Texas before moving to Los Angeles, and, as a father of a toddler, I found the book strikingly funny and sincere.
From the travesties of day care to the in-laws brushing his kid’s teeth with Bordeaux’s butt paste, we should all read this book.


March 05, 2007 By: nooccar Category: Travel, Work

Toward the end of the last semester I received a brochure in
my mailbox regarding a leadership conference in Baltimore, MD.As the NHS advisor at my school, I knew we were horribly lacking in this area
so we took the appropriate forms to the principal to sign. I’d not been to Baltimore since 1998 when
a friend was going to art school down here, so I was eager to go back.

So Thursday evening I jumped on an airplane with two other
colleagues and fly out of the Valley of the Sun. It was odd not having to juggle
water, food, diapers, toys and Claire. It was just me and a book. The book was Alternadad by Neal Pollack. I’d never
heard of Pollack before, but he sounded familiar, and the book caught my eye.
It’s a book about an early thirties dad who has a toddler son who he wants to
raise without giving up his own pop culture proclivities. I read half of it
before we hit the east coast. It’s hilarious and it doesn’t matter that he has
a son and I have a daughter. Poop is poop.

As I read, I had this sense of dread washing over me, like
wanting to crawl out the airplane window and rush home to see Claire. My throat
felt like it was going to close and my ears burned. I love my wife and miss her
when we’re apart, but I think because Claire is part of me, I am even more
connected to her. And damn did I miss her at that point. I had to force myself
to think about the excitement of going to a conference, not paying for it,
doing some sight seeing, and learning something new at a conference.

One thing I like about going away in the winter time is the
weather. We checked into the hotel and went looking for food. While it was 10pm
in Phoenix, and it was not after midnight in Maryland. We eventually
ordered delivery Italian before slumping under feather blankets in the early
morning light.

Friday morning Beth decided she was driving in to DC to
lunch with her daughter. Beth had rented a car and brought Penelope with her.
Penelope is the GPS system her husband bought for her, and damn was the
convenient. We had used it last night to get from the airport to the hotel and
she planned to use it to go to DC. Beth wanted to go to the Folger’s
Shakespeare Library, and since the last time I went it was closed, Erica and I
decided to join her. We didn’t initially mean to go to Washington DC on this trip, but we found ourselves on I-95 headed south.

Brian and Susie lived in Maryland for a year early in their marriage
and I tried to go the Folger then, and this time I decided not to miss it. We
started there, but the room was closed for cleaning. We took a mini-tour and
then hit the gift shop. While we were still shopping, the room surprisingly
opened. We were able to visit the room and even see the reading room in the

 Afterwards Beth was leaving to meet Katie for dinner, and
now we were on our own. It was lunch time and the last time I was there in 2005,
we had eaten at this wonderful little sandwich shop on Capitol Hill. After
walking down towards Pennsylvania Avenue,  there it was again! Cosi’s on the corner was
sitting there with it’s orange sign and line of college students &
congressmen shoulder to shoulder waiting for sandwiches and salads. We got in
that line and had a wonderful lunch.

 Afterward we just started walking. We didn’t have a map, but
I could see the Washington Monument  so that was our beacon. We took several pictures of the Capitol Building before seeing the Natinal Botanical Garndens off to the left. Erica wanted to
go inside, and we asked if it was free. Since it was, we walked through the
gardens and took pictures before heading down the Mall. I was bummed that the National American History Museum is closed (and won’t open for another year and a half), but we didn’t know when Beth would
call after lunch. I picked up a few trinkets and made my way towards Washington’s Monument
that looked a lot closer than it really was. Beth called by the time we got
there and met up with us. She had parked at the monument, and we decided we’d
walk to the Lincoln Memorial.

If you’re not familiar with Washington DC then you’d not really know how far it is. And we’ve never been to DC in the
winter either. The reflecting pool had been drained, and what better chance did
we have to walk down the center if not now? So the three of us trudged down the
center of the reflecting pool from the Washington Monument to the Lincoln Memorial. We did a quick walk through the WWII Memorial, and
after seeing Lincoln, we walked to one of my favorite memorials,  the Korean War Memorial.  I have no idea why I like it so much, but it’s just a cool place.

 Erica & Beth also wanted to visit the FDR Memorial,
which was nearby. I couldn’t remember exactly where it was but we had a bit of
an idea. We began walking towards the Tidal Basin and found the memorial. The last time I was there it was covered in fountains
and water, but this time it was all empty. Afterward the ladies decided we were
going to walk the entire circle of the basin back to the car. They decided it
was the same distance either way. Even though I was sore and tired, I acquiesced
and we took off towards Jefferson’s Memorial before walking back to Washington.  By the time we rejoined Penelope I was tired and wanted
nothing more than to sit. And that’s what we did. We sat on the beltway for two
hours to get to Baltimore.  That night we had a nice seafood dinner after registering
for the conference and listening to the evening speakers.

 Saturday morning Erica and I spent the morning and later the
afternoon with the National Honor Society Director, which turned out to be very
good. He supplied us with information we just didn’t know about the society. We
learned several things we did well and several things we weren’t doing.

 Later in the evenings we walked all over the inner harbor
and hoped to see the lunar eclipse but it was a little cloudy by dusk. I bought
Claire two shirts and Donna another trinket before we hit a place called
Phillip’s for dinner. They claim to have all crab all the time, and that’s what
they had. We had crab cakes and crab dip. We drank Menage a Trois with Beth’s
daughter’s friend Arnold, and then I was just done with the day. I think part
of it was the sun & wind. I felt wind burn, looked sun burned and I was
just too warm.

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