I was in Graul's earlier this week for one of my daily visits. You could say that I'm a poor menu planner and kitchen provisioner, but I prefer to view my frequent trips to Graul's as the European approach to grocery shopping. Not buying it? Neither does my family, but that's just how I roll.
At any rate, as I made my first daily pass through the produce area, my pal, Ron, greeted me as he weighed my bag of shallots (ooh - sounds really haute cuisine-ish, huh? - just an ingredient from the latest quick recipe ripped from the pages of Real Simple magazine - recipes that always leave my family starving). He informed me that in a few weeks, Graul's will finally install produce scales at the checkout, and we will no longer have to have our produce weighed by the guys and Donna in the produce area.
I was surprised to find myself taken aback by this news. When I first started shopping at Graul's over eighteen years ago, I made the standard newbie error of not getting my produce weighed before checkout, not just once but over and over. Even after I got the hang of it, there were many times when the kids were little that I missed weighing something in the mad rush to get in and out before one of the little angels destroyed a shopping aisle or threw a world class tantrum. The folks at checkout would always patiently (and sometimes not so patiently) take the unweighed item over to produce to remedy my blunder.
Over the years, I have fallen into a comfortable routine of starting my shopping in produce, having a chat with Ron or Pat or Donna as they weigh my apples or broccoli, and discussing the current evening's dinner experiment with them. At checkout, I occasionally find myself behind someone new to the Cape or a visitor who does not know the drill, and I always feel just slightly superior to be an established "local" with my produce already weighed and labelled. The process that vexed me so in my early Cape days has become one of those unique Cape experiences to which I've adapted and even come to embrace.
Well, there's no stopping progress, even at Graul's. Ready or not, they are busting into the... late... 20th... century...? with produce scales at the checkout counter. Who'd have thunk! No more can we munch on our grapes as we shop, safe in the knowledge that they've already been weighed and priced so it's not really stealing. What will be next? Self checkout? Dear God, please no...
I guess progress is a good thing, but it makes me a little sad. I will miss Donna and her crew manning their posts at the scales as I pass through (sometimes two and three times a day...). I hope they will still find tasks to do out in the open so I can continue to bat around my dinner plans, but it won't be the same. I may have to pay them a visit in the back room, although I'm not entirely sure I want to know what goes on back there...
I guess somewhere, the fat lady has sung. Other than a hundred and fifty or so more revolutions around the Earth and one more gliding brick landing, the space shuttle program is at an end. The final liftoff of Atlantis this past Friday is the last time we will see a space shuttle blast into orbit.
My husband and I couldn't resist the offer to go watch the finale, so we hauled the kids down to the space coast in hopes of a timely liftoff. The weather was terrible when we arrived in Florida on Thursday evening - pouring rain and thunderstorms. By sunup Friday though, Mother Nature had dried her tears for the demise of the shuttle program and granted us a grudgingly pretty space coast morning on this most final of launch days.
My previous blog post about attending the launch somehow caught the attention of a BBC News producer (the blogosphere is a bizarrely random realm). They wanted to carry live updates from the shuttle launch on their website and feature the impressions of miscellaneous bloggers about the launch and the end of the shuttle era. I was asked via email by a nice woman named Jamillah (straight out of a Beatrix Potter tale) if I would send email updates and pictures from our viewing area at Jetty Park. She also requested an introductory writeup about me and my interest in the space program for their site and then a follow up once everything was said and done.
Anglophile and wannabe journalist that I am, I jumped at the chance, not really having any idea how to accomplish this. My cell phone has been dying a slow death, and I knew my iPad would be impossible to view in the bright Cape Canaveral sunlight. I emailed Jamillah Puddleduck the requested bio and slapped together thoughts on the shuttle program before heading out the door to Florida. Here is the BBC link to my initial writeup.
Following the launch on Friday, I had ample time in the airport thanks to an extended weather delay to pen(?) a wordy follow up on my iPad. Mother Nature was in a much more disagreeable state by that time - spent her good humor on the shuttle. The requested three to four hundred words became many more, blatherer that I am. I don't think I can sign a greeting card in three to four hundred words...
My new BBC friends took my meandering email submission and edited it down to an even more incoherent blurb which you can find here. This is what my original writeup said in is entirety:
Wow! I had a gut feeling that this launch was going to happen today, but I have a lot of gut feelings that don't pan out. When we arrived last night, it was pouring rain, but the forecast called for a clearing on launch morning that appeared to be perfectly timed. I was optimistic. I heard my husband up during the middle of the night checking to see if the fueling of the external tank had gone as scheduled. It had, and we were one step closer to launch.
We awoke to a few glimpses of sunshine peeking through a thin layer of overcast skies. Radar showed a line of thunderstorms well west of Orlando and no threat to our morning. Still optimistic, we threw on our beach gear and hopped on our bikes.
Our first stop was Grills Tiki Bar for breakfast. It has been a gathering place for locals and NASA folk for years. The flat screen was tuned to NASA TV, and everyone was talking launch.
Next we headed over to Jetty Park where the masses were gathering. It was a festival atmosphere with tripods set up all over and spectators vying for the prime spots on the pier and jetty rocks. We couldn't hear the broadcast of the NASA launch director from where we were, but I checked in with the NASA website and Facebook page for updates. From our own observations, the weather was getting better by the minute - confirmed by NASA.
The only issue we were aware of was a concern with the Return to Launch Site criteria. Weather has to be clear enough for the shuttle to return to the space center for landing in the event of a failure of the main engines. I confess, while I would never wish for a shuttle engine failure, I have always secretly wanted to view a successful RTLS. Launch and landing all in one viewing. It's doubtful that circumstances of a failure would ever allow such a maneuver to work, but in theory, it would be pretty cool. The criteria were ultimately partially waved, and the count continued.
As launch time approached, we all turned our eyes to the northern horizon. As the seconds past the designated launch time ticked away, nothing happened. The crowd waited in relative silence with the same question in all our minds - where's the shuttle? We've seen a lot of things go wrong in the final seconds before liftoff over the years, and it's almost always a show stopper with a short launch window.
Just as we started to despair of a scrubbed launch, we heard shouts from the folks tuned into the launch count. 5-4-3-2-1!!!
Sure enough, there she came like the grandest bottle rocket you ever saw glowing brighter than the sun in the distance. The crowd erupted in cheers as Atlantis shot toward the heavens. The booming, crackling sound followed shortly after - just as impressive as the view. Against all weather odds, the skies had cooperated for this final launch of the pride of the American space program.
As we hopped back on our bikes and pedaled away, the elation of the launch suddenly gave way to a crushing sadness. It was just for a moment, but the finality of it hit me full in the gut as we left the final launch behind. I'm utterly uncertain about what and when the next big thing will be. NASA still has plenty of good work to do for the time being, but nothing will capture our hearts and imaginations like the space shuttle until the US once again sends astronauts into space.
Safe travels, Atlantis. Thanks for the memories.
The slight delay was due to a sensor reading from the launch platform that turned out upon further inspection not to be an issue. I had quit videoing when the shuttle didn't appear and then had to scramble to get my iPad back into video mode. I just caught the shuttle as it came over the horizon, and recorded most of the ascent until we lost it in the clouds.
I quit recording when it went out of sight to save on file size, but the accompanying sound reached us shortly thereafter, prolonging the experience. At fourteen miles from Jetty Park to launch pad 39A and a speed of sound of roughly five seconds/mile, it was over a minute before the sound caught up with the sight. The visual was fleeting, but the rumble and crackle stayed with us as we made our way back to our bikes.
While we were waiting for launch at Jetty Park, I emailed several photos of the scene with some comments to the BBC crew. Shortly before launch, they emailed to ask if I could do some live, on location interviews with spectators via cell phone for their show. My fantasy role-playing game suddenly took a quantum leap from print journalist to girl-on-the-scene field reporter for the BBC! I had no freaking clue what I was doing, but I was game to have a go.
On our way to Jetty Park
People on the jetty rocks and pier
Jetty Park Beach
People lining the Jetty Park Pier in the distance
Alas, my technology failed me and others in attendance as cell phone signals began to drop out from pure system overload. No calls or texts were getting in or out readily in those last frantic minutes before launch. Texts that we sent to our friends viewing from the space center and vice versa did not arrive until ten or fifteen minutes later.
I did manage to send the BBC folks part of the launch video I took with my iPad. It somehow made it across the Atlantic via email almost as fast as Atlantis did by rocket fuel despite the severe broadband congestion. My dream of signing out from an interview with a jaunty "Christy Roberts, Cape Blogger, reporting live from Cape Canaveral for the BBC... " was not to be realized, though...
Heady stuff, but all pure flight of fancy. I am back to the terra firma of reality this week with kids to send off to theater and sailing camps and a house to ready for an in-law visit. In nine days, Atlantis will also be back to Earth, and she too will be left with only dreams of the stratosphere from her Earthbound home on display at Kennedy Space Center. It was fun while it lasted... for both of us...
Happy Fourth of July, Capers! I've been out of pocket on a family Grand Canyon adventure that I will blog about in upcoming posts. At the moment, I'm trying to get to the bottom of four huge suitcases full of dirt, grime, and sweat courtesy of the great American West.
It was a spectacular trip, but when temperatures hit 120 degrees in Phoenix the last day, we decided to cut it a day short and head back to the heat and humidity that we know best - just in time for the July 4th festivities. We don't have anything planned since we didn't expect to be home, but it's nice to have a day or two to decompress before the work week begins. Vacation is great, but coming home is even greater.
We do have firework plans at the end of this week, however. We couldn't resist the temptation to get one more look at a shuttle launch, and this time, it will truly be one more look. Atlantis lifts off this Friday, July 8th at 11:26 AM, and it is not only her final launch, but the final launch of any space shuttle. We had not planned to try and attend, but a friend who has never seen a launch twisted our arm and asked us to join him. It didn't take much of a twist.
Atlantis Ready for Final Launch
Those of you who have read my past blog posts know that I am a NASA junkie. It's hard to imagine who would not be, but I realize NASA has its detractors. For all those who claim supporting a space program is a waste of resources, I would challenge them to find a government R&D program that has produced such a return on investment for the public. I'm talking a powerful combination of national pride and technological advances that have had a direct impact on the way Americans live and breathe. For me and my family, NASA has been our livelihood for over 20 years and our passion for as long as we can remember, so yeah, perhaps I'm a little biased.
Anyway, to get a look at the grandest firework America has ever produced, you will have to wait four more days past Independence Day. Cape Canaveral and the greater Space Coast are going to be a complete and utter zoo come Friday, but we are gluttons for punishment and are going down just for the one day before heading back.
If anyone else expects to be in the area, we will be at Jetty Park this time, along with a gazillion other space buffs. We won't have the view that we did for the Discovery launch back in February from the Space Center viewing area. My husband was able to pull one more center pass out of his hat for this one which we have offered to our friend who has never seen/felt a launch up close.
Instead, we will take it in like the locals have time and again over the past 30 years - from a beach chair on the space coast - assuming, of course, that all goes according to schedule. Worst case, we sit in a beach chair on the space coast with nothing but blue sky, sand, and surf (and a few thousand other sentimental space fanatics). Still not a bad deal.
For those of you who are going to make the roadtrip down, I found some great information on a Patch site in Bloomingdale, FL (Tampa area) that you will find useful. Here's the link:
And last but not least, I've uploaded the slideshow/video I put together from our viewing of the final Discovery launch as a thank you to our hosts. A Fourth of July tribute to the ultimate American Firework.
Postscript:
Atlantis will remain in Florida at the end of this final mission. She will be on permanent display at the Kennedy Space Center for the public to visit. A tour of the Space Center is always a worthwhile activity and will be even more so once Atlantis takes up permanent residence there.
You know, early last year when the President announced the cancellation of NASA's next generation manned space flight program, Constellation, it was initially interpreted by many as the end of manned flight for NASA. The death knells were sounded by news anchors and analysts for American manned spaceflight. Since then, the news coming out of NASA has mentioned development of manned flight vehicles for missions to asteroids and Mars and refitting of the Constellation Orion capsule for 21-day manned missions. All of this was proposed in the President's speech at the Space Center in April, 2010, but all we heard was no Constellation or shuttle follow on.
This does not sound like the end of America's manned space flight program to me - just a gap like we saw between Apollo and the Space Shuttle. Maybe it's wishful thinking on my part, but I don't believe the launch of Atlantis on Friday will be the last time we and our children and our grandchildren will see American heroes liftoff into space flying the NASA meatball. The destination has been changed, but the dream of manned exploration of the solar system is alive and well. Stay tuned, space fans...
I am usually terrible about planning in advance for Father's Day. The days before are typically spent scrambling around trying to come up with a good gift idea for my husband or grabbing a last minute card for my Dad. Every few years, I come up with something good and get it together on time, but mostly it's a pretty slapped together occasion.
This year, I thought I had it covered way ahead of schedule with respect to my husband. About this time last year, I learned that tickets were going on sale for the 2011 US Open to be held at Congressional Country Club in Bethesda. The final day of the US Open is always on Father's Day, and I thought it would make a fine gift for the family to take Dad to the tournament. We have all been trying to get good enough at golf to play a round with him, but our games are not improving very quickly. I figured our best shot (no pun intended) at enjoying 18 holes of golf as a family on Father's Day would be as spectators as opposed to searching for errant balls in the woods.
I was feeling pretty pleased with my plan until a few months ago when I learned that my son's week of Navy soccer camp would run from Sunday through Thursday as opposed to Monday through Friday. Not just ANY Sunday but Father's Day Sunday. Ah well, I thought, we will just drop Henry off at camp early and head over to Congressional as a threesome instead of a foursome.
Well, as the day approached, and I received the registration instructions for soccer camp, it began to occur to me that it might not be that simple. It seemed important to get Henry settled in being his first ever "sleep-away" camp, but registration didn't even begin until 10 AM, and we were expected to provide our boys with lunch the first day before handing them over to the Naval Academy camp staff. This midday checkin would effectively cut our day at Congressional for the US Open in half.
So last week, I brought it up to my husband so we could discuss the game plan. It became clear pretty quickly that trying to do both was not a good option. The logistics were just too complicated. Without hesitation, my husband, good father that he is, said not to worry about the tournament. We would just find someone else to enjoy them and enjoy our own leisurely day getting Henry checked in and then watching the US Open from the best seats in the house - the big screen, high-definition TV in our air-conditioned family room.
And that is where we sit after a morning in downtown Annapolis. We are now about to watch Rory McIlroy tee off at Hole 1 and have a go at making history. They say he could be the next Tiger Woods. At 22 years old and 14 under par going into the final round of the US Open, he may well be, though Tiger's 14 majors will be tough to match. Let's just hope he doesn't wind up careening down his driveway in his boxers with his wife in pursuit wielding a golf club...
Meanwhile, my brother-in-law and nephew are enjoying our Congressional Trophy Club tickets to possibly see history made by McIlroy in person. Our loss is their gain. I told my nephew I was delighted that they could use them, but please don't embarrass us by doing an eyebrow dance in the background of a camera interview with McIlroy. Don't know what I'm talking about? Check out the smart-a$$ kid in this video - too funny:
As for our Father's Day morning in Annapolis, the whole family helped Henry move into his USNA digs. He was happy to have his sister there to organize his closet, his Mom there to make his bunk bed, and his Dad there to give him some last minute tips from his own Navy camp experience. Another year, I would be OK with sending him on with a friend, but this first year, I'm glad we were all there to see him off properly, even if it meant sacrificing the US Open. Henry didn't get to see the best golfer in the world, but he was reminded that he does in fact have the best family and Dad in the world.
Of course, that's how many of us feel who have been lucky enough to be raised by good fathers - fathers who are always there for us when we need them, always setting a good example and giving us useful advice. Here's to all the Dads dropping their kids at camp, teaching their kids to play golf, or thumping their kids on the head for doing or saying something stupid - that was MY Dad's specialty.
Speaking of my Dad, I posted this picture of me and him on Facebook this AM in a lame attempt at some kind of Father's Day gesture in the absence of a gift. I thanked him for always making me feel safe and loved. His example made it possible for me to recognize the qualities in my own husband that would one day make our children feel safe and loved. For me, that's really the bottom line with respect to good fathering - that and a few well placed thumps on the head.
Me and Dad
Happy Father's Day to all you Cape dads. Hope you're enjoying the golf or the Gold Cup soccer or whatever your favorite pastimes might be. As I've been writing, Rory has birdied Hole 1, shot par on the 2nd and 3rd, and birdied the 4th. At a record breaking 16 under par, he's well on his way to providing his father with one heck of a Father's Day gift.
I'd love to hear about your great Dads in the comments. Feel free to share!
I somehow managed to miss the Strawberry Festival Parade, despite planning to be there 20 minutes in advance. I don't know where I got the idea that it started at 10:30. As we pulled into the shopping center parking lot at 10:10 to get a prime spot, my daughter, ever observant, noted that the road was littered with candy, and the fire truck that usually brings up the rear of the parade was already passing by. I wish I could share with you the look of disgust on my kids' faces. "Really, Mom?". Ah well, if you blink, you miss the Strawberry Festival Parade, anyway. I love our home town parade, but the Rose Bowl Parade, it's not. We will be on time next year (queue the kids' eye rolls).
As for this year, we parked the car in front of True Value and followed the tail of the parade down to the Festival on foot. I told the kids that instead of watching the parade, we would actually be in the extended parade. That might have worked on them as toddlers, but my big kids didn't buy it.
Once we got to the park, we checked out the festivities and said hello to all the folks manning this booth and that. We also enjoyed the music set by our friend Dirk Schwenk and his band (sounded great!). It was pretty darned muggy, so after grabbing a yummy strawberry shortcake and placing a silent auction bid on a cute beach cruiser bike in the clubhouse, we headed back up Cape St. Claire Rd. to the shopping center.
Here are some pictures from our day. The first ones are from our time at the Festival on land. The latter ones are from the water, courtesy of an evening boat cruise along the Main Beach and into the Little Magothy. No thunderstorms. No cold weather. No sunburn. Lots of sun, friends, music, food, drinks, games, crafts, dogs, and princesses. I call that a fine day at our fine Strawberry Festival. Post your photos on the Cape Blogger Facebook page and let me know your favorite part of the day.
Flower made from plastic bottles.
SPCA cutie looking for a home.
Girl scouts paired up with SPCA.
My daughter is not a scout, but
she has some lovely friends who are!
Dirk Schwenk
Schwenk and Band
Sodas for Sailing
Me in the Beer Garden
Festival Fun
Henry's Tattoo
My Bike (didn't get a call that I won...)
The Reason for the Revelry
Hazy Crazy Main Beach
Cotton Candy!
Kids Enjoying the Water
Strawberry Festival From the Water
Makeshift High Dive
(Cape kids are smart enough to jump feet first!)
I am not condoning this but looks like fun!
"Hey Mrs. Roberts, where's Henry?!"
Missing all the fun, apparently!
Little Magothy Entrance/Water Park
Hey, are those water toys?
Where did the kids go?
Somebody must have run them off.
Asbury Park has Springsteen, the Florida Keys have Buffett, Jamaica has Marley, and Cape St. Claire has our own Dirk Schwenk! Yes, the Cape has an up and coming musician/singer/songwriter to add to our ranks of talented and interesting local folk. Actually, Dirk has been honing his craft as a musician for some time, but with his solo performance at last year's Strawberry Festival, and now this year with his new band backing him up, we here in the Cape are just getting to know him as an artist.
I first became acquainted with Dirk as many of us Cape parents become acquainted - at the bus stop. During the school year, it's a morning gathering place for parents and kids from kindergarten through 3rd or 4th grade. The kids are always dressed for the day and ready to go, but as the year drags on, the parents show up with their cup of coffee in progressively more casual attire ranging from workout clothes to full on pajamas and slippers. (I have been known to show up in my turquoise-blue-with-pink-ice-skating-elephants flannel PJs.) The bus stop is a nice opportunity to have a quick chat with the neighbors while we wait for the freedom that comes with handing our kids over to the care of the public school system.
Despite a couple years of bus stop exchanges and the odd neighborhood Christmas party, I was unaware that Dirk was a musician. When we first met, he told me he was a lawyer specializing in waterfront related cases (good choice for this area). His wife, Stefanie, runs a top notch preschool out of their home around the corner called Best Beginnings. They have two boys, Connor and Luke, who are winding down 5th and 2nd grade at Cape Elementary, respectively. Who knew that the guise of an ordinary, nice looking, enjoyable Cape dad was just a cover for the next Cape Idol?
Music has long been one of Dirk's interests. He discusses it in his responses below to a set of questions I sent him for this post. Like most of us with hobbies or talents that we dabble with in high school, he didn't choose to pursue it in a serious way, instead following the more conservative, reliable path of an education and professional career. This is the wise thing to do in most cases. While there are exceptions with mad talent and drive that find success "following their dream", there are many more who don't and are left having to pick up the pieces.
The nice thing that I've found with blogging and that Dirk appears to be finding with music is that once you achieve a certain comfort level that those years of study and career-building or home-making afford you, you again have the opportunity to pursue those hobbies that you once put on the back burner. You might well even discover new ones. And by comfort, I don't necessarily mean financial comfort but a comfort within one's own skin - a recognition of what is important to us and the experience, maturity, and courage to give voice to it.
I wouldn't trade my work career at NASA that resulted from my math and science training, and Dirk clearly values his work as a lawyer (and it pays the bills!). I am very much enjoying, however, the side opportunity to tap into my inner-writer/journalist, and I see a parallel to what Dirk is doing with his musical interest. It's a second chance to explore that fantasy career that some of us set aside for more practical considerations.
Those of us with families and responsibilities may not have the time and energy to dedicate to a whole new career path (although some do successfully), but we certainly can make time to cultivate our talents and passions on a smaller scale. We do the things that we love to do best and often it's those things that have the most meaning and impact to ourselves and the people around us. If nothing else, it makes us more satisfied and well-rounded people and nourishes our spirit.
What hobbies have special meaning to you? Music, photography, cooking, writing, sports, painting, sewing? Maybe a little of everything! I would love to hear about the interesting talents my Cape neighbors pursue. Tell me about them in the comments.
I'll quit and let Dirk tell you more about himself and his music. Below is the list of questions that I sent him and the responses that he so generously provided. Join him at the Cape Strawberry Festival this Saturday, June 11th. Dirk will be performing at 11:45 with his new yet-to-be-named band, and according to his recent Facebook post, "should not totally blow." I'm anticipating better than that from our local lawyer turned troubadour. Any of you planning a big party this summer better line him up!
I will be at the Strawberry Festival as well to hear for myself. My kids will be manning one booth or another between youth sailing and girl scouts (my daughter is not a scout, but her friends have asked her to join them). I will be at the Broadneck Patch table/booth with the other Patch bloggers (a blather of bloggers? a bevy of bloggers? a blunder of bloggers? a blight of bloggers? - if you don't get this, it's because you haven't read my previous post A Murder of Crows!).
OK, now I'll let Dirk speak (his responses are in italics). Thanks again, Dirk, for taking the time to provide thoughtful answers. Best of luck Saturday!
So, I know from our bus stop days that you and your wife, Stefanie, have 2 boys who attend CSC Elementary. What grade are they in now? I’ve lost track since my two went to middle school.
My boys, Connor and Luke, are finishing 5th and 2nd grade right now. Connor will be at Magothy Middle (I think!) next year.
How long have you guys lived in the Cape, and where did you live before that?
We moved to the Cape in the Spring of 2005, when it began to sink in that we would need to send our children to school. Before that, we owned a house in Eastport and rented for a long time near the stadium in Annapolis. We have been together in or near Annapolis since about 1992.
What brought you to this neighborhood?
We liked the big trees, the schools, the water access, and the more casual atmosphere. We were also strongly influenced by the fact that my Mom and Stepdad live here.
When I first met you, you told me that you were a maritime lawyer, by trade. Are you still practicing law, or have you left the courtroom behind (quit your day job) for your musical career?
I am still practicing law. Mostly I am working on cases involving waterfront property and water access, nowadays. I can't really see going to a full time career in music, as the grind of travel is not really what I love in life, and I love my lawyer-job, too, but I am very glad to have people hear the music. Its nice to feel like I shouldn't hide that anymore.
I actually had no idea that you were a musician. I see on your website that you played in a band back in school. Have you always been involved with some kind of band, or are you just getting back to it?
I have always played something -- I can remember Mommy and Me music classes when I was very small; I played clarinet in the band through high school; I started bass guitar in high school and guitar shortly after that. I learned and wrote in college, and had various bands then and for several years after. I took a long break up until a few years ago in which I did not play outside the house and pretty much everyone knew me as a lawyer or a sailor or through sports. I have always felt very shy about telling people about my music, and I was positively horrible about getting gigs. Just in the past few years I have started to play in front of more than just family again.
How long have you been writing music?
My senior year of high school, my buddy John Metters -- guitarist in the band I played in in high school -- came to me with a chord progression and a title: "Ode to Backseat Cushion." I took his idea, moved things around a bit, and came up with a song I still think is pretty good -- it certainly captures where our minds were in high school, and I still play it sometimes. Since then I have always written songs. Most get tossed in the garbage, but hopefully find one or two decent songs a year. Since I have been back focusing on music, I am writing more, but time will tell whether the new songs are really good enough to keep around.
Do your boys play musical instruments? Stefanie?
Not really -- I am hoping to get Connor going on bass guitar so that I can turn him loose on my other band, Generation Gap, but so far that has not really reached top priority. They will sing with me sometimes, if they are of a mind.
Do they think it’s cool that Dad is in a rock band?
My boys are pretty tough critics, but at least they don't seem to mind. They like a good party, so that helps.
Who are your band-mates, and how did you meet?
Right now the band consists of Phil Runk on bass and Curtis Cunningham on drums and myself on guitar and vocals. Phil and Curt have played together in various bands all the way back to college. I met Phil at the Lake Claire beach one day when I was sitting around playing guitar -- he is a Caper as well. We decided to try to play a few songs to see how it went, and here we are ... about to debut the thing at the Strawberry Festival.
Where do you practice and how often do you get together with your band and practice?
Phil has a complete band set up in a room in his basement and his wife and Mom have been good enough to allow us to bang around down there while they cover his kids. As a band we have been getting together about once a week -- we'll get together twice this week before Saturday. The first day that Phil and I met, he told me that whatever it was that I was writing, it would not be too hard for them to learn. Luckily, he has been right, and even introducing songs that they have never heard before, things have come together surprisingly fast. We will not be perfect on Saturday, but we should be pretty good.
What instruments do each of you play in the band (the kid across the street from me plays drums if you’re in need of a drummer – may as well put him to work if I’m going to have to listen to him practice anyway…)?
See above, but Phil also plays guitar and other string instruments, and I play bass in another band that is playing on Saturday, Generation Gap. I am just OK on bass, but it is a very fun group of people fronted by Dan Tobin from the Cape. And I've heard your neighbor is pretty good!
Did you have formal guitar training, or did you just teach yourself? Do you play any other instruments?
On guitar, I took one semester in college, but for the most part I am self-taught. I did learn a great deal about music and presentation of music playing in band and singing in middle and high school musicals. My high school band teacher, Mr. Brown, was excellent, and really emphasized that we had to use dynamics and tempo to capture a song. I am sure he would be surprised to know I learned something from him, since I hardly practiced and wasn't very good, and he eventually had to kick me out for getting in trouble on the band bus.
How does Stefanie feel about your pursuit of a musical career? Is she your biggest fan, enthusiastically supporting your dream, or does she roll her eyes a little and humor your musical hobby? Maybe a bit of both depending on the day?
Stefanie is my second biggest fan after my mother. (Aww - comment injected by Cape Blogger) She would probably be my biggest fan, but she is worried that I will get a big head and that I will not help get the boys ready for school or unload the dishwasher. She does support me greatly in everything that I do, and without her support there wouldn't be either a legal career or a band. I wrote the lead song on current CD "I've Been Thinking" for her and about her, and I am still somewhat stunned and appreciative that she picked me out of the available guys on the planet. (Once again, Aww...)
Who are your favorite musical artists?
Right now, I love Ben Harper and Jack Johnson because they are all putting out new songs that resonate without engaging in anything that is too formulaic or too conscious of trying to be popular. I have great respect for Tom Petty, Paul McCartney; Paul Simon and that generation of songwriters that are still putting out good music 40 years into their careers. I love outlaw country -- Willie Nelson and Johnny Cash especially -- and the Rolling Stones. Mostly though, I love good songwriting in almost any era or genre -- I can cry about the passing of Bob Marley pretty much any day or time.
I know you workout a lot at Big Vanilla (because I'm there so much...right?). Do you use an iPod or mp3 player, and if so, what are 5 songs on it (come on, tell me the embarrassing ones – I confess I have John Denver, Little River Band, and Celine Dion on mine – now you go…).
I am sure that if I had an ipod, I would have embarrassing things on it -- I like John Denver and I would have all sorts of country and punk music I probably shouldn't admit to. I don't have an ipod though, because I always put them through the wash and ruin them, and also because I like to chat at the gym more than I like to work out. In a vulnerable moment, you could get me to confess that I think I should know the pop music they play at the gym, just in case Big Dreams came calling.
What other gigs have you and your band played (old band and new), and what would be your dream gig (I’m not talking the Verizon Center or Wembley stadium – locally speaking).
The new band's biggest gig so far was in Phil's backyard for a crowd of about 20. My old bands played some of the bars in Chestertown and Annapolis, but none that are even in business anymore. My dream gigs ... Well, even this time last year it was just to do a party or two as a solo guitar player, so things are being ratcheted up a bit just lately. But all of my dream gigs are outside with a nice crowd, maybe some sand and a water view. Locally, next year I would like to do some of the things like Bands in the Sand and Eastport-A-Rockin -- the festival atmosphere appeals to me much more than a late-night bar.
I love that you did the photoshoot for your website at Fairwinds Beach.
I think it’s such a pretty spot (the subject of my blog header photo, as well). Did you have those done professionally, or do you have a talented photographer in your life?
I love that beach, too -- its my favorite place in the Cape. The pictures were taken by Heather Mckay Bowes, www.heathermckaybowes.com, who lived in the Cape until last year. Her profession is photography and her passion (as opposed to her bread and butter) is photographing musicians. She did me an incredible favor taking those shots on one of her last days before she moved. Having met me in person, you can see what an incredible job she did!
I actually took the photo for my blog one morning when I dropped off my son for sailing camp. I believe your son(s) participated, as well, and I see on your Facebook page that sailing is a hobby of yours. Do you have a boat and/or get much opportunity to sail?
The boys are in Cape sailing, and we get out some casually on various boats, but as far as serious racing, I have hung up my sailing boots for now. I sailed on my high school and college sailing teams, and Stef was crazy (and supportive) enough to let me use some of the money that we got for our wedding to buy a small racing boat, even though she was not a sailor. She and I actively sailed and raced during the 12 years that I was not doing music, and got pretty good. When we were in babies, racing was a great weekend escape and a time to work together as a team. We are always looking for ways to get out on the water, but our race boat is for sale.
What’s your favorite thing about Cape St. Claire?
We love all the beaches and water access and we love the more casual neighborhood feel.
Those of you who were big M.A.S.H. fans like me back in the day might remember an episode where Radar tries to impress a visiting nurse who is sophisticated and into classical music. The advice he gets from Hawkeye and Trapper is whenever he is at a loss for a response to something she says about classical music, just say, "Ahh, Bach...". This may be one of the single best pieces of advice I've ever heard. Plug in any significant artist, philosopher or scientist who comes up about whom you have no freaking clue and nod your head with a knowing look.You might just get away with it - or not. It didn't work out so well for Radar.
My own knowledge of classical music is fairly limited. It is constrained to the pieces of music that I encountered while taking piano lessons growing up and the music appreciation course I took in college to meet my humanities requirement. I can identify some of Beethoven's greats, the odd Chopin Waltz, and several of Bach's inventions, and I can play a few passingly well, but I have never become intimately familiar in any kind of depth with the great works of the classic composers.
As for my family history of piano lessons, my mother played piano growing up - mostly Methodist church hymns. She saw to it that I played piano, and I, in turn, have seen to it that my daughter plays piano. Musical talent does not run strong in our particular line of the family, but each generation has acquired the skill through brute force. I made an attempt with my son, but after months - make that years - of tears and fights on the piano bench, I waved the white flag and called a truce, as did my mother before me with my brother (who plays guitar quite well as an adult, so I hold out hope for my son's musical future).
My daughter, bless her, has not enjoyed taking piano lessons either, but she seemed to recognize early on that as the next in the line of piano playing women in our family, this was non-negotiable. She has been taking lessons with the same teacher since she was five years old - ever since my Mom sent the old piano to live with us.
Me at the then new piano.
Don't let the smile fool you.
We first met her piano teacher, Emiko Tanabe, through the Peabody Preparatory at Maryland Hall back when I had delusions of grandeur about my daughter's future career as a concert pianist. After a few years of us making the weekly commute across town, Emiko left The Peabody and became an instructor at Anne Arundel Community College. At that point we switched to private lessons out of her home, which became wonderfully convenient when she moved to Cape St. Claire several years ago.
Having Emiko in the Cape could not be more ideal. She is a fabulously talented and accomplished pianist, and somehow she landed right here in our very own neighborhood. We are incredibly fortunate to have her in our community. A couple of times a year, she plays locally for free and collaborates with many of the other talented musicians in our midst. Over the years, she has accommodated all of our needs and schedule requests and has exhibited remarkable forbearance in the face of a student who has put a minimum of effort into her piano study. I know some days, she must feel like putting in earplugs to avoid listening to Mr. Bach get butchered. Aghhh, Bach...
Despite the lack of practice time and summers off, my daughter has actually become a very good pianist. Her fingers are much more nimble and lithe than mine ever were, and the dearth of practice has made her into a pretty decent sight reader. I credit Emiko's lovely, mild temperament with keeping her at it this long. My goal at this point is simply to maintain the musical knowledge that she's acquired by sitting down a few times a week to play and by attending the half hour weekly lesson with Emiko for the exposure to her wealth of knowledge and expertise. I'm hoping Kathryn will one day be able to say, "Ahh, Bach" with a little extra confidence and a sincerely knowing smile having played a piece or two written by the man himself and having heard Emiko play it as exquisitely as it was intended.
Playing piano also comes in handy to torture family over the holidays. Here are a couple of our early greatest hits that we recorded for the grandparents (the second got cut off - I'm sure it was our best performance ever):
This past weekend, it was time for the yearly piano recital that Emiko holds for her students at St. Margaret's Episcopal Church. It's the one time of year that I insist my daughter put in the extra time to work up her selected pieces properly. I'm past being embarrassed for her or myself if they do not sound passable, but I hate to disappoint Emiko. I knew as the day approached that it was not going to be a flawless performance. My daughter made a valiant effort to perfect her waltz and sonatina, but it was clearly a bit too little too late. I made my peace with this before leaving for the recital.
Or so I thought until we took our seats in the church, and I looked up to find none other than the Tiger Mother herself and her family in the front row ahead of us. For those of you who aren't familiar with Amy Chua's book The Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, it describes her hardcore approach as an Asian woman to mothering and the exacting standards to which she holds her two daughters. Seated ahead of us was a carbon copy (in the most superficial of ways) of Chua's family - the Asian mother, the Jewish father (I'm basing this purely on their last name, so I could be mistaken) and the two lovely, polished, poised daughters. Add in the Asian mother-in-law, and they were a force to be reckoned with. Suddenly, I wished that I had cracked the whip a little more leading up to the recital, but it was too late. We were about to get schooled.
Well, of course piano recitals are not competitions. I listened with delight as the steady stream of little to big pianists marched up to the shiny black grand piano and nervously laid their racing hearts out on the keyboard. They were all thoroughly entertaining, and I admired the courage and composure displayed by each and every one through the occasional sour or forgotten note and ensuing pauses - some serious character building moments. The kids play in order of experience from new students at the beginning to the more accomplished students at the end. My daughter was third from the last with, no surprise, the Tiger Mother's girls following her.
I think the thing I admire most about my daughter is that while she does not like to perform in front of an audience, when she does, she is utterly fearless. I am a quivering bundle of nerves on stage, but I have never seen her hands shake, and this recital was no exception. While she made the few mistakes that we knew were inevitable due to lack of full preparation, the parts in between were truly lovely to me, and my heart swelled to watch her confident posture as her hands floated over the keys. I can only dream of how beautifully she could play with a Tiger Mother at the helm. Nonetheless, I was tremendously proud of her effort. As she returned to her seat, she shared a fist bump and a smile with her brother which seemed to put it all in perspective.
The Tiger Daughters finished out the recital in spectacular fashion, but even they proved to be human. Their pieces were the most advanced of the day, and they both played splendidly, but they made their share of noticeable mistakes. The younger daughter was technically dazzling through her sonatina, and the elder daughter was fluidly graceful throughout one of the loveliest Chopin nocturnes I've heard (I only know it was a Chopin nocturne thanks to the recital program - "Ahh, Chopin..."). Despite the couple of incidental flubs, I didn't see any sign that their family was any less delighted than we were. When it was all over, the Tiger Parents were every bit as proud of their cubs as we were of ours. I promised Kathryn I would not post the video of her performance, but here she is afterward VERY happy to have it over:
Post-Recital Smile
Hopefully my daughter will come away from her years of forced piano playing with a rudimentary ability to carry on a superficial conversation about classical music. My friend whose son also played in the piano recital (Beethoven's 5th - recognized that one!) attended a violin recital for her other son the following day. She texted afterward to tell me that the Tiger Mother and her family were also at the strings recital. The older cub ALSO plays the violin quite beautifully. D'oh! I knew I should have made my daughter stick with playing in the school orchestra! Oh well, she will just have to go through life faking her knowledge of brilliant violinists with an, "Ahh, Itzhak..."
Here are a few quotes about music I stumbled across online that tickled me:
"When a piece gets difficult, make faces." -- Arthur Schnabel (to Vladimir Horowitz)
"Get up from that piano. You hurtin' its feelings." -- Jelly Roll Morton
"Nothing soothes me more after a long and maddening course of pianoforte recitals than to sit and have my teeth drilled." -- George Bernard Shaw, Irish playwright and music critic.
And in all seriousness:
"Use the talents you possess, for the woods would be very silent if no birds sang except the best." -- Henry Van Dyke
Is it me, or does it feel like we leapfrogged over May straight into full-on summer? The weather went from cool, rainy, and windy to Africa-hot in what seems like a matter of days. We could have used a few more of the lovely mild temperatures that we enjoyed here and there. I can hardly remember them now. The cancellation of the Blue Angels just added to the sense that May didn't happen. Now it's June 1st, and I couldn't tell you where May went.
Thankfully, the Cape pool opened this past weekend. Even more thankfully, my kids are now old enough to drop off on their own with a friend or two. The crowds and the prospect of putting on a bathing suit did not appeal to ME especially, but I was desperate to get the kids out of their PJs and away from their video games. My son was eager to go. He loves playing dodge ball in the volleyball pit. My daughter was less enthused, but got interested when her girlfriends invited her.
I actually considered leasing our membership this season because we haven't been using the pool a lot in the past couple of years. When the kids were little, we spent much of our free summer hours at the pool, but their interest has waned some as it has become less and less cool to frolic with Mommy. I held on to the membership this year in hopes that maybe with their increasing freedom to come and go on their own, they would choose to use the pool without me schlepping along. This past weekend was a trial run, and I hope it is a sign of things to come. They both enjoyed the better part of their day hanging out with friends poolside. I enjoyed the better part of mine cleaning out my closet.
The heat has also put a dent in my exercise routine. I'm having to confine any running to mornings and evenings or risk falling out in the street with heat stroke. I did loops through Atlantis yesterday evening on whatever side of the street was shady. My mistake was running after the holiday weekend. All the trash that was put out for the regular Tuesday pickup sat out in the 90+ degree heat all day since the collectors weren't coming until Wednesday. Holy cow, that was some smelly post-holiday trash. If the heat didn't do me in, the smell almost did. For the record, Atlantis trash stinks just as bad as Cape trash.
I hope all of you are finding ways to beat the heat. I think the worst of it is about to break. This weekend is looking much more manageable. Fingers crossed that the highs stay under 90 for the June 11th Main Beach festivities the following weekend. I can remember a Strawberry Festival or two with cold, rainy and foggy weather. Let's shoot for conditions somewhere comfortably between that and Africa-hot (got that weatherman...).
This past Sunday, we finally made that trip over to Annapolis for lunch by boat. It was our first cruise down Ego Alley of the season. Even after 17 years of boating, docking is never without peril to pride and property, and the stakes are that much higher with a crowd of onlookers. Ego Alley will separate the seasoned boaters from the amateurs, and will even make fools of the seasoned ones now and again. On this day, we were pleased to score a spot on the wall and tie up without incident.
We enjoyed a lovely lunch in the outdoor courtyard at Reynold's Sly Fox Pub. Since we had Laika with us, we needed a place that was dog-friendly. Afterward, we made a stop by Kilwin's for ice cream and candy before returning to the waterfront.
When we were almost to the boat, my husband remembered that he needed a couple of items from the hardware store (when does he not?). This is not the first time Stevens Hardware has come in handy. You never know when you might need a new rockfish bottle opener, spray hose nozzle, or red, white and blue carbine clip for the planer boards. I waited outside by the door with Laika and window shopped while the boys picked up these "necessities".
While I was biding time, my eye was drawn to the shiny copper weathervanes on display just inside the door. This is not the first time they have caught my attention. In particular, the majestic great blue heron in flight had captured my fancy, and I have been secretly plotting to get one for the top of our detached garage for some time. As I gazed longingly at the heron, I noticed a bright green sale tag hanging from his beak and got a little more interested. When my husband finally emerged from the store, I handed him the leash and went to check it out.
Copper Heron
Well, the price was marked down to suit, and having a birthday approaching, I asked the nice lady if she would get one for me from the back. When she returned, she deposited a tremendous but lightweight cardboard box at my feet. I leaned out the door and asked my husband if the box would fit on the boat. He gave me the "really?" look but was a good sport and carried it across the parking lot to the boat. We got a few odd looks from the aforementioned onlookers as we hoisted it over the rail, but it fit securely in the cockpit, and we cast off from the Alley with our booty.
Great Brown Box Containing Great Blue Heron
On Tuesday, in lieu of going to watch the Blue Angels as we and the rest of the city of Annapolis had originally planned, my husband climbed atop the garage and installed my new weathervane. He carefully aligned the two directional plates using a compass, and sprayed the pivoting rod with ample WD-40 to allow the heron to readily fly head-on into the slightest breeze. I was delighted with the result. In truth, the heron might be a little oversized for our garage, but I think he looks mighty fine soaring over it. Now, I need only look out my window toward the garage to gauge the direction of the prevailing winds.
Life-sized Copper Heron Will Oxidize to Blue-Green
If only it were so easy to assess all of life's prevailing winds and know what they will blow our way. The wind that gently pivots my heron can occasionally lash out in devastating fury. Parts of our country have recently born the brunt of some of these catastrophically damaging winds. We were all heartbroken for the Tuscaloosa area among others several weeks ago when hundreds of tornadoes tore through the midsection of the nation, and then even more horrified in recent days at the 6-mile long swath of death and destruction that ripped through Joplin, MO, the deadliest single tornado in recorded US history. And the storms continue to come, spawning new funnels across the country almost daily, it seems.
The images from Tuscaloosa and Joplin are reminiscent of the tsunami-wracked areas of Japan in terms of the level of complete and utter devastation. Even with much more sophisticated forecasting tools than a weathervane, meteorologists and seismologists are still unable to accurately predict the fiercest of winds and waves. They are some of the worst that Mother Nature can exact upon us. Click here for a remarkable and dramatic before and after graphic of the area surrounding the Joplin high school. It's mind-blowing.
Those of us in Cape St. Claire have had our own fairly recent brush with a tornado. While the F1 that skimmed across Severna Park, Arnold, and the Cape in September of 2006 was nothing to compare with the multi-vortex F5 that hit Joplin, it left that signature path of damage and debris unique to tornadoes. It is the closest I hope ever to come to a full-blown tornado. My husband and I watched from our deck as the sky turned wild and green. When the leading edge of the storm arrived, we ducked inside for cover from the hail. I watched from a front window of the house as he watched out back.
The back is where the hovering twister's path crossed our yard. My husband saw the bottom of the suspended funnel wring the crown off our largest tree, a rock solid beech 60 feet high and two feet in diameter, just as I heard the telltale "train" sound. Although I had never heard this sound, there was no mistaking it. We simultaneously yelled for the kids to get in the basement.
This is what we found when we ventured out to assess the damage - a yard littered man-high with large branches from three topless trees. The tornado had apparently taken a right turn over our yard, sparing our favorite tree. My kids claim it was because the tree face scared it (see picture below). It's as good an explanation as any for nature's caprice. Again, this was nothing compared to the Armageddon scene in Joplin, and not even as bad as some of our Cape neighbors fared, but a big mess for 30 seconds of ferocious wind.
Debris Field
Topless Beech Tree
Looking Up the Yard
Looking Down From the House
The Tree That Turned a Tornado
Closeup - "No Tornadoes Shall Pass"
Once the shock of what had happened became reality, we went about the business of cleaning up and contemplating life without two of our oaks and our steadfast beech tree. The residents of Joplin have lost much more, but they will do the same in their own time with the help of their family, friends, state and nation. The fact is, while the prevailing winds may spin and knock us around, they don't, in fact, prevail. Human kindness and resilience do.
Reinforcements Arrive with Chainsaws
Helping Hands
I hope our new windward heron never has to stare down a tornado, but if he does, at least we will know what direction it's coming from. Sending healing thoughts to all the folks in tornado central. If you have a dime to spare toward tornado relief, I've put the link for the Red Cross donation site back on the right sidebar. Some of you may also have relief campaigns through your work direct deposit like my husband's company. Do what you can if you can. The favor will be returned if and when it's our turn, God forbid.
