Vicarious adventures

Just finished reading "The Happiest Man in the World", an account of the the life of Poppa Neutrino. Among many other things he built this raft out of scrap and sailed it across the Atlantic with his Salvation Navy.

Random Lunacy

To boat or not to boat..

...that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous expenses,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To sell: to float;
No more; and by a sale to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That boat owners are heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To swallow the anchor, to sell;
To sell: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that boat-less sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this floating coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of waves,
The oppressor's slip fees, the proud man's yard bills,
The pangs of scratched gel coat, the law's stupid rules,
The insolence of the USCG and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a Yachtworld listing? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a dirty bottom,
But that the dread of something after selling the boat,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.

Ms Brody

I've overheard a number of snide comments directed at Sarah since she changed her last name. Apparently there are some women who see themselves as so independent, sophisticated and brave that they are in a position to criticize someone like Sarah for choosing to take her husband's name.

I challenge anyone that dares to look down on that decision to honestly compare themselves to Sarah.

Do they think they are more independent than the woman who has thrice changed careers and excelled at each one? Braver than the woman who finished a marathon on a broken leg? Or maybe they are tougher than the woman who chose to live on a sailboat in New York City with two dogs and a bike messenger through two winters... and then walk away when she had enough. More sophisticated than the woman who can look and feel good about herself without devoting large portions of her time and income to cosmetics and fashion? Do they think her actions are ruled by convention, insecurity or trends? Do those who criticize Sarah really define themselves on their own terms?

In the three years since leaving a successful career in New York to pursue a dream of west coast living she has driven cross-country twice, traveled to Japan (leading her companion by the hand) bought a new home, gotten married, started a family and maintained her professional ambition despite being surrounded by mediocrity at work. All done on her own terms. Eight months preagnant, she gets on a crowded bus everyday and goes to an all boys club of an office in order to pay a mortgage that most American families could never even hope to afford.

She has made a happy and balanced home with a man who has his head on faraway shores half the time. For her love and approval that man has found himself doing things he did not know he was capable of. She is the primary bread-winner, the number cruncher and very often the voice of reason and responsibility... she can also carry ten times her own weight in groceries but thats for another post.

She has the self confidence to dive head first into a decision; changing her name is only one symbol of that confidence. Max is going to know from day one what a strong, independent, brave, resilient, successful and truly beautiful woman is no matter his mom's last name.

Fatherhood Class

My expectant father class lasted only four hours. Two hundred forty minutes may seem like a remarkably brief time to prepare for a lifelong challenge but, not unlike a religious epiphany, its the profundity and relevance of the time that counts.

After the long tedious hours of our childbirth class - where in an effort to gain a tactile understanding of the varying firmness of the cervix during labor we were compelled to touch the tip our noses and the insides of our cheeks - the fatherhood class did no such thing to demean or belittle; it was a reassuring boost to my enthusiasm towards child related matters.

Unlike the childbirth class's instructor, whose accurate description would require cruelty I'm not capable of, the Fatherhood class was taught by an actual real life father. In addition to having done that particular deed, Armin had written a number of respected parenting books, hosts a radio show about parenting, is a former Marine Corps interrogator and best of all, had useful information he was able to convey without treating his students like slack jawed mouth breathers. Regardless of the subject matter many instructors seem to design their lessons for the stupidest person that is likely to attend; if the pupil managed to pull pants on and get to the classroom without natural selection weeding them out, the pace and tone of instruction is geared to that particular lowest common denominator incarnate. Not so with Armin, this guy knew what we wanted to know and simply told it to us. There is nothing like the feeling of satisfaction derived from a veil of ignorance being lifted. Nothing relieves anxiety like relevant information, just as nothing stokes the fire of fear like stupid distraction and meaningless drivel. I remember being thrilled about learning Roman numerals on the very first day of third grade, I figured at that rate I’d have acquired the entire wealth of human knowledge by Junior High.

So, what did I learn that was so wonderful? Here it is: I learnt several baby holding techniques that allow for my freedom of movement and for the babies comfort. We got to practice the holds on little fake babies. I also learnt that baby poo does not stink as long as he’s breastfeeding. Do not shake the baby, throw him in the air or leave him alone on the changing table. Babies may be very ugly when they get out of the womb; acne, blotches, jaundice and weird dandruff are normal and will go away. I learnt all the stages of awareness, what the baby can be expected to do. I now know about merconium, colstrum, placentas and umbilical stubs. There is good vomit and bad vomit, normal crying and pain crying. It is impossible to spoil a baby in the first six months so you should always pick him up when he cries… except when you are angry, then you must put the baby down.