PAgent’s Progress

I feel a little better about the whole Art Museum brouhaha, since I noticed that both Kevin Allman and Lisa had chimed in on other Portland Metroblogging threads to complain about children being in theaters, restaurants, and bars. So, they’re not really mad at me for bringing my kids to the museum, they’re mad at me for having kids at all. Or at least, for letting them out of the house so they could be inflicted upon innocent bystanders.

If I had realized that this was a case of parents vs. kid-haters, it honestly wouldn’t have bothered me nearly so much. I’ve run into plenty of folks online that simply don’t want to be exposed to children, ever, under any circumstances. They resent having to share occupancy of any public venue with the little rascals.

This dislike is usually framed as a problem with “those parents”, the ones that let their kids run roughshod through the restaurant, flinging handfuls of mashed potatoes about, or who sit obliviously as their spawn shriek nonstop through the entire movie. But hell, everyone hates those folks. No, the difference is that when you try to suggest to these folks that there are kids that are well-behaved in public, thanks to parents that set standards of behavior and enforce them, they continue to hold the position that they shouldn’t have to suffer because YOU decided to have kids.

This makes me much calmer. You see, I might be prone to apologizing for a lot of things, but having my children isn’t one of them.

As far as this next generation goes, I see my children as being part of the solution, not part of the problem. I think that by trying to nurture children that are literate, well-rounded, and bright, I’m doing my part to save the human race. I know, you can’t control what your children do. I mean, they might even become lawyers (gasp!). But if they did, at least they would hopefully be ethical ones.

I also cling to the outdated concept that human society works better in general when we all try to look out for each other’s kids. Being a parent is hard, and those little buggers will try to get away with anything they can. So we will often ask our neighborhood children questions. Questions like: “Where do you live?” and “How is your mom doing these days?” and “Where are you going with that cat?” It’s important.

And finally, under the category of enlightened self-interest, I have a vested interest in these little yard apes becoming productive members of society. Once I’m a geriatric old codger, these are the folks that will be running the place. This is who is going to show up when I call the police, or go the hospital, or even go shopping. You may hate them now, but eventually they will be in charge.

So, you might consider treating them with a little more respect. You never know what they’ll remember when they grow up.

This is a Thai commercial for ceiling tiles. It made me snort out loud.

via Neatorama

I was talking to one of the guys behind public press the other night, and he was picking my brain about the local blogging scene. At one point he said “I guess in order to be a blogger you have to be pretty extroverted, huh?”

Which was pretty funny. I’m about as introverted as they come. If I actually thought about the number of people that read the words that I put down here, I’d be freaking out. Blogging is a wonderful way to self-publish the little drips and drabs that percolate out of your creative mind, or to share the odds and ends that you stumble across. It can be a great way to create a little synthetic community with people you would never otherwise encounter. But it is not easy for those of us that struggle with insecurity.

When I embarked upon this little vanity project, I wondered if I would be able to take the heat. I’ve belonged to a number of online communities over the years, going back to the Usenet newsgroups. I’ve seen the kind of damage that a persistant troll, or even a short-lived flame war can do, and I’m reluctant to make myself a target for them. However, the folks that have wandered into my little corner of the internet have for the most part been gracious guests. Heck, most of them come and go without leaving anything more than the fact that they accessed the page. And some of you I have come to consider my friends.

Now, if you look over to the right sidebar, you can see a widget that lists my most recent posts at Portland Metroblogging. When I was approached to become a Metroblogger, I was really flattered. I was amazed that anyone thought enough of my little blog that they wanted me to talk about living in Portland. However, I was concerned about being relevant. After all, I’m in my forties, I have two kids, and a desk job. Metroblogging is about being young and hip and trendy. About going out and listening to live music. About shopping at the right grocery stores, and driving the right kinds of cars. And everyone seemed to want to talk about urban development, and Portland politics, subjects I know nothing about. I didn’t think I’d have anything worthwhile to say.

But I gave it a shot. And I was kind of enjoying myself. Now, not so much.

My most recent post over at Metroblogging Portland has generated a really unexpected reaction. As my wife pointed out, if I had related that same story here in my personal blog, it probably wouldn’t have generated much of a reaction. But I posted it over there, and now I have had to deal with some comments that are frankly taking me by surprise, and which I have trouble not taking personally. I never thought of myself as inconsiderate, or a bad parent. I’ve always tried to be a good citizen. But I’ve been taken to task by (among others) Kevin Allman, a By-God real journalist. Who am I to disagree with his conclusions?

Frankly, I don’t need the extra pressure of trying to come up with decent ideas for posts at Portland Metroblogging. But more importantly, I don’t have the energy to deal with that kind of public criticism. Blogging is easy if you have a terrifically thick skin, or an ego the size of Jupiter. Alas, I have neither. Whatever gratification I get from putting my words out there just isn’t satisfying enough to put up with feedback like that. I have enjoyed the interactions I’ve had with the other Metrobloggers, and I think Metroblogging is a wonderful idea. But I don’t think I’m cut out for it.

I’m not going to make a decision tonight. Maybe not even this week. But I’m going to think long and hard about whether I really want to continue being a part of Metroblogging.

I am really starting to love this strip.

The boy and I entered a hobby shop the other day. I try not to go into hobby shops, because it is all too easy to decide to pick up a new hobby. This hobby shop was no exception.

On one side, of the store is the RC car and airplane section. Wheels, controllers, engines, props, you name it. Everything you might need to enjoy a radio-controlled anything is right there. On the opposite side of the store is the model train section, with every gauge of track, every type of artifical landscape you could imagine. In between is a cornucopia of potential interests, from model-building to model rocketry.

I am always drawn to the models. I went through a model-building phase when I was a kid, mostly spacecraft. I always enjoyed putting the models together, but then I would get really frustrated when it was time to paint them. I could never get them to look like the perfect scale model depicted on the box. Instead, mine looked like crap. Plastic crap. With obvious brush strokes and beads of extra glue at the seams.

But I did enjoy some aspects of model-building, and so I like to cruise the aisle and see what is available. I went through the car section (never very interesting), through the model ship section (more interesting), to the aircraft models (now you’re talking), and started looking for the spacecraft.

When I was a lad, you could construct an “Eagle” from Space:1999, fighters from UFO, the space shuttle, the lunar lander, and of course, the USS Enterprise. But the only familiar model I could find in this store was a set of “adversaries” from Star Trek. Everything else was some type of spacecraft or mecha from an anime or manga I’d never heard of. Everything else.

Wow. I’m getting old.

So, I was a little dispirited. I looked at the Estes rockets, but my heart wasn’t in it. I wandered over to where my son was playing with a Brio train set in the model railroad section. My gaze drifted upward, and I saw them.

Wooden ship models. The were arranged along the wall above head height, big cardboard boxes with beautiful pictures of sailing vessels on them, their names ringing down from history: USS Constitution, the Cutty Sark, the Santa Maria, the Bluenose II. I immediately compared the experiences I had with plastic models to the time I had spent helping the boy with his derby car. There was no comparison. Working with wood was so much more satisfying. And more forgiving.

The models were arranged by skill level, level 1 to level 3. I got the attention of an employee, and asked them if I should really start with a level 1 model. After all, I had some experience with modeling, and I wasn’t some child. He answered immediately. “Oh yes. Even though the level 1 kits are easier, there’s still some modeling to do. You can still spend several weeks on one.”

Hmmm. After much consideration, I settled on the level 1 version of the H.M.S. Bounty, infamous site of the Bligh mutiny. According to the box, when I’m done it will look like this:

I picked up some fine grit sandpaper, and a bottle of cyanoacrylate glue, and headed home. Once there, I opened the box to examine the contents.

Holy crap, what are all those tiny little pieces?

Ah. See, an “easy” kit like this is usually considered “easy” because it includes a solid hull. You just have to paint it. You don’t have to build it from ribs and planks from the keelboard up. However, all of the other fittings, and the rigging, of my Bounty would have to be built from their tiny, tiny, little component parts. Whoo-boy.

Well, I’ve started already, and I’ve actually completed the very first baby step. It’s entirely possible that I will actually continue this project, and there is a small chance that I might even complete it. Perhaps to give myself some incentive, I might just create a ‘Bounty’ page where I track my progress. Maybe.

I’ll think about it.

I’m pleased to report that I was able to spend some quality time with both children this last holiday weekend. It’s possible to make that happen, as long as I don’t try to have quality time with both of them at the same time.

Around Valentine’s Day a local girl scout troop will invariably put on a “Daddy-Daughter” dance. The girl and I have gone to a couple of them, and while it’s fun to get dressed up, the two of us aren’t much into the dancing, and the music is usually too loud. In fact, last time we ended up leaving early and going to Haagen-Dazs. So this year, we decided that instead of going to some silly dance, we’d just go out to dinner.

To make it more of a special event, I picked a restaurant that neither of us had been to before – Benihana. So, Saturday night we got to enjoy the teppanyaki show. As I hoped, she got a big kick out of the theatrics on the grill, and even better, she enjoyed the food. She had hibachi steak, but after tasting the shrimp appetizer, I think she may get shrimp the next time.

After dinner, we wandered around Linens ‘n Things, just being goofy, then went to Cold Stone Creamery for dessert. The evening was topped off by a trip to the pet store to see the puppies and ferrets.

Although I had Monday off, my wife’s girl scout troop was scheduled to have babysitter training in our family room all day. And by all day, I mean 8:30 am to 4:00 pm. Knowing that discretion is the better part of valor, the boy and I bugged out early and went to the zoo.

As I think I’ve mentioned previously, the best time to hit the zoo is early in the morning when it is cold and wet. True to form, we got to see a lot of the animals being active. For example, I got to see both of the new cougars, for the first time. They were snoozing just on the other side of the glass viewing window. Magnificent animals, both of them.

After cruising the entire zoo, we had lunch at Skyline Cafe. Whenever there’s a competition, this place always comes in among the top three ‘best burgers in Portland.’ I’ve always wanted to try one, and by golly, they DO make a pretty damn tasty burger. After lunch, we wandered a little more, ending up at a hobby shop (more on THAT, later).

I really enjoyed both outings. I often feel guilty that I don’t spend more alone time with the kids, because they really seem to enjoy it. And I enjoy it too, if for no other reason than we genuinely have a good time, and I don’t have to yell at either of them at all. In contrast, if you try to do anything with both of them at the same time, they just start picking at each other and pretty soon they’re driving each other nuts.

Early on, we decided that we ought to keep them from physically assaulting each other, in part because they have always been so big and strong. Unfortunately, that strategy seems to have backfired. Instead of calmly using language to work out their differences like civilized beings, sibling relations seems to have escalated into all-out psychological warfare. And I fear it will only get worse.

Sometimes I think we should have just let them pound on each other.