Flooding in Harrisburg

See spot. See spot run. See spot swimming in his own front yard in flood waters. Swim, Spot, swim!

March Illnesses: a poem

There once were two children beside us, Who, when given medicine, would fight us, Though both Amy and I Wished to soothe their pinkeye And the youngest one's tonsillitis.

WANTED: One (1) drop-in or slide-in range, soon

Amy's been somewhat less than excited about the range/cooktop included in the purchase of our current home. So, I'm sure there's some part of her that's not altogether saddened by the fact that it died on Sunday afternoon. Yep, while eating lunch, we heard a really loud pop coming from the kitchen. My guess is that the bottom element cracked or something, because it now generates no heat. The cooktop still works, as does the broiler (but who uses that?). But as GE's website lists no available replacement parts for this 18-year-old oven, I suppose we'll be making a trip up to hhgregg in the next few days.

[UPDATE 12/13/07] Much to Amy's chagrin, my Dad was able to locate a dealer that had a replacement element for our oven for a mere $30. Sorry, Sweetheart—looks like you'll have to hold out for the kitchen remodeling after all.

Fun at the Fair

Last year at this time I was in Romania, which was a neat experience, but it meant two weeks of missing my wife and kids, and missing the annual Cabarrus County Fair. I purposed at that time to do everything in my power to make it out to the 2007 fair. So this evening — on the anniversary of a very somber day in American history — we chose energetic family together-time over quiet reflection, and fulfilled that goal.

Now, Amy and I had taken Gavin to the fair in 2005, when he was two years old and right at 36 inches tall. Aidan was only months old back then. But now, two years later, Aidan is where Gavin was at the time. That makes him eligible for many of the rides at the fair, and made the whole idea of the thing that much more exciting. So tonight after work, we packed the kids into the car, grabbed a fast bite of dinner, and headed off to the fairgrounds.

The first thing Amy and I noticed was that there seemed to be more rides than there were in 2005. The second thing we noticed was that we needed to take out a second mortgage on our home to cover the anticipated costs of the evening. Rides take a minimum of three tickets per ride, per person. 24 tickets cost $20. So, for a yuppie foodstamp the family could ride maybe two rides. Ouch. Fortunately, for $15/person, you could get an armband which granted you unlimited rides. Clearly, it was the best financial decision we made this week.

The boys were, shall we say, a bit excited. But honestly, they demonstrated stellar behavior the whole night. They patiently waited in lines, didn't try to drag us from ride to ride at a harrying pace, and were respectful of both each other and those around them. Surprisingly, they weren't really afraid of the rides we rode, either. Two years ago, I remember Gavin crying a bit on one ride that did a fair amount of spinning, and so I expected similar responses from Aidan tonight. But there was none of that — both boys loved all the rides (save for one that Gavin and I did together that neither of us liked much because it was literally difficult to breathe while on it). Ferris wheel high above the tallest trees in the area? No sweat. A smallish roller coaster with hills and thrills? Rode it twice.

Fifteen years ago, as a student in the Cabarrus County school system, I couldn't have cared much less about the fair. And I certainly never dreamed I'd actually be looking forward to it. I guess that belongs on the growing list of things that inexplicably change when you become a parent. I suspect we're not alone in these types of transformations, nor that parenthood is finished transforming us just yet.

But for now, I'm anticipating the 2008 fair!

(Mostly) wallpaper-free!

Amy and I finally came to terms with the fact that we would never, ever, get around to finishing the wallpaper removal task in our house. So a couple of weeks ago, a crew from SouthEnd Painting (in Charlotte) came in and spent three days removing wallpaper from, floating, sanding and priming the walls of our kitchen, living room, dining room, and the downstairs half-bath. The crew was professional, very respectful, and did their best to keep our home orderly and dust-free (which is no easy task in jobs like this). And the end result met our expectations (also no easy task). Of course, it pained me to write a check for the cost of this service, but as my friend Fitz observed, Amy and I "finally recognized the value of our time."

Unfortunately, I'm not able to give quite the glowing review of the whole process that I'd like to.

I noticed shortly after the crew left our house that the glass break sensor in our kitchen (part of our home security system) was not functioning. Upon removing the front panel (just as I'd shown the crew leader how to do the previous day) I noticed that one of the microphone lead wires was missing, and that the microphone itself was sorta shoved up into the backing instead of in its proper mounting location. I called SouthEnd to report the damage. I wasn't sure if this kind of damage was covered by the service plan we have on our security system, so I told SouthEnd that I'd get a quote for the repair or replacement of the sensor. If there was no charge to me, then no harm, no foul — SouthEnd Painting wouldn't hear another thing about it. Otherwise, they'd be responsible for any costs incurred in the repair. I also advised SouthEnd to ask their work crew about the damage, just to make sure there was no dispute on the responsibility. I called our security provider, got the quote ($150), and relayed that to an assistant at SouthEnd, again advising that they verify the quote by calling our security provider themselves.

A few days later, I got a call from Todd, SouthEnd's owner. What happened next was simply unfathomable — after admitting that the work crew had claimed responsibility for the damage, and acknowledging the cost of the replacement, Todd had the nerve to suggest that they send me a check not for $150, but for only $125. "Why", I asked incredulously, "would I cover $25 of damage your crew caused after just writing you a check for over a hundred times that amount?!" Todd replied curtly, "Well, it doesn't hurt to ask — I'll send your check."

On the contrary, Todd, it does hurt to ask. You just lost the business I'd intended to give you for the upstairs of my house.

Gavin and Rapunzel

Aidan was having an off morning with his basketball routine, only hitting 20% of his 15-footers instead of his normal 80%. So I started playing guitar and singing a made-up song to try to encourage him not to get frustrated when he missed his shots. While doing so, I was reminded of a song I composed and sang to Gavin when he was just a baby. Here are the lyrics.

The Ballad of Gavin and Rapunzel
by: C. Michael Pilato, December 10, 2003

It was a late hour / When Gavin approached the castle with a flower. / It was a late hour / When he tried to save Rapunzel from the tower. / But a witch was waiting there / When he climbed that rope of hair. / And she warned Prince Gavin his vision would fade / And that she'd banished fair Rapunzel far away.

It was a dark minute / When Gavin's flight the witch tried to inhibit. / It was a dark minute / When he toppled toward the thornbush and fell down in it. / As the witch had prophesied, / The thorns tore into his eyes. / And so in blindness Prince Gavin did roam / Miles and miles away from his princely home.

It was a grand second in their lives / When Gavin's face Rapunzel thought she recognized. / It was a grand second in their lives / When stumbling through the desert he heard her beckon through her cries. / And all of those painful years / Washed away in Rapunzel's tears. / Then all of their sorrows turned to laughter again / And they lived happily ever after. The End.

I admit the subject matter is a little advanced for a six-month-old. We haven't made a habit of exposing our boys to graphic storytelling or anything.

Oh, wait. That's not true. We do read them the Bible...

South Mountains State Park

South Mountains State Park has been a favorite day-trip destination of mine for about fifteen years. We took the family up there today (Memorial Day) for some hiking and escape from daily life. Well, Amy, Gavin and I were doing all the hiking; Aidan had it easy. Nothing says, "I love you, son" like strapping him into a backpack frame carrier and toting his extra thirty pounds of weight a half-mile to the base of a waterfall, 150 steps straight up to the top of the falls, then a mile back around and down to the starting point again. And nothing says, "You need some exercise, man" like the pounding heart and heavy breathing that hits you about 100 steps into that bottom-to-top climb portion of the trip. Were those vultures circling overhead, or was I imagining things?