Call It What You Want...

• You knew Michael Jackson was trouble WAY before he hit the news (as were Ric James, Tina Turner, Ozzy Osbourne...)
• Your snow fort turned to ice
• You knew how many steps it took to get to school
• Mosetraps on the windowsill make sense
• You got on the wrong side of the librarian during the summer reading program
• You've ever saved the ice
• You can tell the difference between Louder Than Bombs and We Shall Behold Him
• You've visited Sausage City
• You know songs about the Greek God Pan, J.S. Bach, and Mrs. Goldfarb, but nothing current
• You've made scriptural reference to the book of Hesitations (more than once)
• You have a favorite Old Testament judge
• Smedley von Sturdley was practically a member of the family
• Your most stylish clothes came from Bargain Center or a rich cousin
• There were adults who were afraid of you
• Anything is big enough to fight about
• There's always another garage sale

Feel free to add your comments as well.

On another note, perhaps I could convince the webmaster here at newpics.org to add newpics.org/fugue to revive the greatest novel of our time...

Lots of happy things...

Tim got the new elliptical machine properly calibrated, and I had a nice "fat burning" workout. Tim has the idea to make a poster to mark down when we work out, to keep track and keep us motivated. It's a good thing to hae a chance to do some working out. Before we moved, I had a membership at a women-only circuit-training-based fitness club; loved it, but it only took 2 minutes to get there. More of a job now, so I can now go downstairs. I'll keep you posted.

Carrots. Oatmeal. SWEET POTATOES. Three of Mark's favorite foods. There are few things cuter than that little boy, orange food smeared all over his face, holding his spoon in his mouth, smiling, bouncing in his high chair, squealing with glee. The other thing that is so cute at meal time is when we hold the spoon out about nose level and he opens his mouth wide to have the next bite -- maybe too quickly! (Daddy discovered that trick...)

Now that Mark can sit up mostly by himself (still toppling but only very rarely), he needed some NEW TOYS. We were shopping on Saturday and checked out a toy store. You know the toy you're holding is going to be a hit when the baby in the Bjorn is flapping wildly (more like his cousin than ever). So now Mark has the Fisher-Price "Activity Atom". Rather noisy, flashy lights, goofy music.

In addition, Mark got some new clothes, and some new books. He got an "I SPY" alphabet book and a terrific DK math book, with counting, adding, subtraction... Lots of fun. He loves his book -- as a snack...

Friends. We visited Saturday with Andrea and Leo and their girls, Audrey (4 1/2) and Aislinn (3 months). It was fun to see them. Audrey and I are great pals, and my pet Aardvark (invisible of course) and hers get along famously. Mine went with her and hers when they went to China last year. Unfortunately my aardvark has been a little neglected since Mark's arrival, so he's staying with Audrey's for a while. And Mark and Aislinn were caught holding hands...

And then there's a day Mark got to spend with his friends Auntie Kim and Chase. Gratitude from me, since I went to work, and a nice fun time Mark got to have, too. Chase knows the word "friends" now, and uses it to describe Tim and Mark and me, and also the kids on the sticker on the bus, and just about any other group of people. I'm just glad he knows we're friends.

Friends are good. So are a good workout, new toys, and sometimes even carrots.

And they did. (Sort of.)

"Why can't someone have a radio station that plays that great 'old' Christian rock music I used to listen to?" I asked. A new radio station started in Indianapolis, playing current Christian "rock" music, but it's a far cry from the good stuff I liked and spent my hard-earned money on as a youth, bands a few proud people recognize the names of, like Undercover, Steve Taylor, the 77s... And those are the big names. The Swirling Eddies have a small but stalwart following. Should I continue? (I needn't. If you recognize those names -- or know me -- you know the rest...)

So imagine my joy when dear Tim was listening to internet radio, and I heard a familiar line "...the lust, the flesh, the eyes and the pride of life..." I can remember not that many years ago sitting in a sparsely attended concert in the gymnsium of a small Baptist church in southern Indiana hearing the plaintive voice of Mike Roe singing those words, the same night I learned that Gene Eugene had died. The station earlier had been playing a song by Larnelle Harris, which I made fun of, though I should have made fun of myself for having recognized it. I decided that any radio station -- internet or otherwise -- that plays old 77s can play whatever else it wants. (Incidentally, I started paying attention to it when I heard the final chorus "He's riding with you all the way... all the way..." from Daniel Amos' "Shotgun Angel". Having worn out the cassette I had of the album by that name, it was nice to hear it again.) 

Throughout the afternoon and this evening, I have discovered that the playlist is fairly limited, but has some swell stuff. I heard old Petra (please note: OLD. Before that horrible ICYC they played...), another 77s, some Steve Taylor, and, joy of all joys, the aforementioned Eddies. ("I'm sitting here chatting with Coco the talking guitar...") I can overlook The Second Chapter of Acts, a bit too much Russ Taff, and "Rocketown" by Michael W. Smith played forty thousnd times if they actually play the Swirling Eddies.

So if you feel like a little walk down 1970s and 1980s Christian music memory lane, go check out live365.com's Classic Christian station: http://www.live365.com/stations/182405. You might have to listen to a little more cheese than you wish, but I think hearing someone give a nod to all those GIANTS of Christian music can be afforded a little license.

This takes me back to some serious fun times: dancing at Taylor ("no dancing here") University to The Choir, interviewing Undercover at Cornerstone (and having the lead singer remember me after the show), front row at Steve Taylor in Holland MI ("I figured since this was the Squinternational tour, it was appropriate for me to come to Holland"), the previously mentioned night in Avoca, a thousand times through all those tapes (I can't even lift the box they're still in), trading music with Chris -- who was sooooo cool -- in college, actually meeting someone who'd heard of the Swirling Eddies and then making up a concept for a terrific "Outdoor Elvis" music video (rumor has it, by the way, that Outdoor Elvis can be spotted in outer Prentiss Bay in Lake Huron...), and the shock and amazement when my boss at Conner Prairie admitted that he knows who the Choir is (though he was not yet at student at Taylor the first time they played there, and I was in southern Illinois the second time).......

The rambling must end. It's bedtime.

Mark celebrated his fifth-month birthday by getting his first full-blown cold. A "productive" cough was accompanied by the requisite stuffed nose. While he used to tolerate the nose syringe when he could see it coming, it has now become one of his chief adversaries, along with its cohort, the cough medicine dosing syringe. So much does he despise these characters that he tried to reject his friend the Tylenol doser. It took some convincing, but the Tylenol is back -- sort of -- on his list of friends.

I think about how miserable I am when I am sick -- which I'm working on right now as well -- and wish I could make it better for my little guy. I hate for him to have to cough and cough and not be able to understand that those coughs will do good. And I really feel bad that he can't appreciate the good work the bulb syringe is doing for that pesky snuffly nose. I feel triumphant when, well, when it's successful. But he doesn't seem to share the joy. Instead he cries, which makes him cough more and makes his nose fill up again. "Swallow the medicine," I want to tell him. "It'll make you stop coughing so much, and it'll make your nose feel better."

"While you're at it, Little Boy," I have to add, "How about letting yourself fall asleep and enjoying that nap you need so much? It, too, will make you feel better, and I promise there will be no amazing things that you miss while your little red-rimmed eyes are closed."

We visited his friend the doctor yesterday, and she reported that, yes, indeed, he has a cold, but that we're doing all the right things. He played with her and talked to her and acted all happy to see her. If nothing else, he's a charmer. There were several other sick babies hanging around the waiting room, too, so I know that we are not alone in working on this cold. And I know he'll be back to the "Happy Baby" soon.