The Monday Morning Epistle

Jacob turned 14 last Wednesday, and his birthday was celebrated with due honor and accolades, plus a generous dose of video game technology. Alex asked for the day off and even baked Jacob's birthday cake, so after a special request dinner of take out Chinese, the entire family gathered around our new fireplace to watch the birthday boy open his cards and gifts. (Or in Monkey-Boy's case, offering to help unwrap something every 3.5 seconds…) Jacob was thrilled to receive several new games for his Nintendo DS that he's been asking for, and quickly disappeared up into his room as soon as politeness allowed; since it was a school night, the rest of us weren't too far behind him. It wasn't until the next morning that we realized that Jacob's birthday cake was still sitting—pristine and untouched—on the kitchen counter! Mom made up for this glaring oversight by giving the boys permission to have cake after school, and by the time we got home from work, the birthday cake had been mortally wounded and the Gruesome Twosome were strangely uninterested in dinner.

Mary & I were thankful for unseasonably warm weather on Saturday, as we both attended the Air Force vs. San Diego State football game; we had been invited to tailgate with some of Mary's friends from Northrop-Grumman, but I had already volunteered to be there with the Knights of Columbus. The firm that provides security for the Air Force Academy pads their ranks with ‘paid volunteers’, and with 6 home games × 12 Knights per game × 8 hours per Knight × $8 per hour, the Academy is almost single-handedly funding our Council at St. Patrick's. I spent my entire shift wearing an electric yellow 'Event Staff' windbreaker and directing traffic into (and later out of) parking lots, which was actually kind of fun. The only down side was that I was closest to the main entrance, so I was charged with intercepting oversized vehicles and culling them out into a special lot. In other words, every time a monster RV rolled in, I got to jog out into the middle of two lanes of heavy traffic and hope that the driver noticed me waving before I got run over. Luckily, the RV drivers were all paying attention—they must be used to being frantically waved at in parking lots—so I survived the morning without incident. The same yellow windbreaker also got me free entrance into the stadium, so I was able to enjoy some of the game with Mary and her rowdy friends, but had to leave early because event staff go back on duty at the end of the 3rd quarter. Since the game was turning into a rout (the Falcons eventually won 55-23) we weren't the only ones leaving early, and the outbound traffic ended up being much less congested than normal. All in all, it was a rather novel way to enjoy a crisp Saturday in November, and help keep the Knights of Columbus solvent.

Sunday was Alex's last classroom session with Master Drive, and he theoretically could get his driver's license as early as next week. The ‘theoretical’ part is due to the fact that he's only logged about half of the 50 hours behind the wheel that he needs; all of those times when a parent offered to let him drive—but Alex was ‘too tired’ or ‘too busy’—are now coming back to haunt him. He made a token gesture at suggesting that we sign off on a work of fiction, but knew the answer was going to be “______ no!” before the words were even out of his mouth. So Alex is now faced with the uncomfortable prospect of having to continue to ride his bike to and from work for the foreseeable future, as the weather gurus happily forecast our first major snow storm later this week.

KidBit: During a round of family logistics planning at the dinner table, Mary reminded Alex that the 8th of December was a holy day of obligation, and that he needed to make sure that his work schedule left time for attending Mass. Alex's first mistake was to admit that he had forgotten what the holy day was, but the fatal error came when his teenage attitude took over and he huffily announced that he also didn't care. Alex now owes us a one page essay on what holy day is celebrated on the 8th of December; he also understands all too well that if he blows it off, it's going to be a two page essay tomorrow. Nonetheless, as a gesture of fatherly love (and to rub salt into Alex's imagined wound) I left my dog-eared copy of Catholicism for Dummies at his place at the table this morning…

PotW: The birthday boy contemplates his own mortality. (That, and it was about 6 o'clock in the morning…)

Until next week…Tschüß!

,,,^..^,,,

2007.12.09-15:18