We've Got Spirit! Yes We Do!

City school is not all bad. I’m trying very hard to forget everything and just be positive. This helps:

This week has been Spirit Week at Sam’s school. It ends tonight with a spaghetti dinner put on by the 4^th and 5^th graders. The spaghetti could very well be green and I wouldn’t care. Because Monday was Crazy Hair Day. Sam’s hair was too short, but he wanted a wave in front – just like Tintin. But Monday was also a school play. One in which co-anchors Sam and Katie reported the class news to the entire school. I wanted so badly to walk over to see him, but when I told him of my plan, I received a shake of the five year old head.

“It’s a School-Only play, Daddy. Parents aren’t allowed.”

Tuesday was School Colors Day. Leah managed to find green and grey shirts that actually fit him. Wednesday was Silly Hat Day. Sam wore one of our super-long Christmas caps. Thursday was Pajama Day. Sam would prefer to wear pajamas all day long for the rest of his life, so this was complete Nirvana to him. Today is Sports Team Day. Sam has been talking about today for an entire week. But not just talking. At random points he has walked up to me and asked, “Daddy, can you tell me what Friday is?”

At first, I was slow to catch on. I told him that it was January 31.

“What else is it,” was the response.

“Is it Sports Team Day?”

“YES!!!!!!!!!!”

On Monday, Sam decided he would wear his Patriots shirt over his Red Sox shirt (that I bought for him, so shut up Amber) and his Yankees hat. We said nothing. It was Spirit Week after all. By Wednesday though, plans had changed. And this morning, Sammy went off to Sports Team Day in his very own sports team uniform – his T-Ball shirt and hat.

And it’s not just Sam. Aidan and Noah are coming into their own as little schoolboys. Every morning, Noah practices writing his name and gets a sticker from his teacher. Aidan made a construction paper snowman with a buttoned vest this week. Except that his snowman was clothed on both sides.

They both break out into song at any given moment now. While listening to a Phil Collins song on the radio one morning, Noah shouted out, “Mommy, this is the Tarzan singer!” For those of you who don’t know or remember, Phil Collins recorded the soundtrack to Walt Disney’s Tarzan. This was the only other time that the boys had ever heard anything by him.

But best of all, their not-so-little minds are expanding every day. Last night during dinner the three of them had a discussion on bombs and explosions, complete with sound effects. When Sam made a particularly good exploding noise, Noah tried to give him the appropriate compliment:

“Good blow job, Sammy.”

The Aftermath

So the twins are at school again today. We didn’t move. We didn’t fly away. And although my reaction yesterday stemmed from having to stew in my office for most of the day thinking about the incident, and I realize fully that this kind of thing happens in suburban settings as well as cities, I still can’t help but want to never ever, ever put my children into that building again. After hearing the full account of what happened, I give full credit to the school administration for acting swiftly and properly to ensure the safety of the students.

I am in my office, less than 3 miles from their classroom. But I feel as though I am in a different world.

In my career, I have had things thrown at me and thrown things back. I’ve hurled profanities that would burn your ears off should you have ever heard them. I’ve even had threats against my well being. It’s part of my world. I don’t deal with the niceties of corporate culture on a daily basis. But this morning I feel as though my job is a quilting bee compared with running the gauntlet of growing up in today’s society.

To every school teacher I know: Pam, Aimee, Martha, Lucy, Mark, Brandon, Julie – God Bless you and the good work you do.

I'm Done With This Place.

The kind of violence that you read about and don’t breathe because it’s so unthinkably horrible brushed past my children today. Today, an eleven-year-old kid brought a gun into the twins’ school.

Luckily, eleven year olds are inherently stupid about most things in life, and this kid was no different. He showed it off to other kids on the school bus, and they promptly turned him in when they reached the school. It doesn’t change a single thing.

Ed. note: Portions of this entry have been deleted at the request of a reader. Thank-you all for your comments.

Ooh Es Mas Macho?

I promise some coherent thoughts farther down. . .

1. So, I guess the answer to the question above would now default to Lorenzo Lamas. RIP, Mr. Roarke!

2. Tippi Hedren and Rod Taylor are somewhere cowering in a corner of their retirement villas, screaming incessantly, and Alfred Hitchcock is looking down and smiling. . .

3. It is really, really, really cold.


So the boys have settled nicely into school. And I have lasted almost an entire week without getting fired. For the record, at my previous place of employment I was canned 4 times. Twice by my boss, but I never listened much to him anyway. You hear that, Bob? That's right! I'm 5oo miles away now, and I can write whatever I want to! I'm not afraid of you! Or your wife! I might be a little scared of your daughter, though. I digress. Apologies.

Despite our continued life craziness (we're not in our apartment yet - all of our stuff? Still in boxes.), I have to say that I still feel unbelievably lucky. I get to drive Sam to school now. He starts school just early enough that I can drop him off and drive around the block to my office. We take the same route each day, past the General Mills plant where they make Cheerios. By the way, if anyone reading this know ANYONE who works for General Mills, please see if they might be able to arrange for a tour of the Buffalo Cheerios plant. I . . . that is . . . we desperately want to see how they are made. We also see the Buffalo Fire Boat every day. It's cool.

Another very nice little perks of my present job is that I have a clicker. This is not a magic clicker, but it does allow me entry into the Heated. Underground. Parking Garage. My little VW diesel loves, loves, loves being warm all day. I don't even have to put my coat on when I leave work. It is quite wonderful. Oh, and did I mention that all of the people I work with sail? Yup.

I am also putting some good karma back into the world this week. I actually get to hire someone for my project down in Maryland. And hopefully, when I start my New Hampshire project, I will get to do the very same thing there as well. With so many people looking for work, and more layoffs every week, at least I can help a little bit.

If you consider yourself one of my friends and are upset that you haven't heard from me, first, you should know me well enough by now to know that I suck at keeping in touch. Second, fear not. I am trying to reach out to everyone I can think of to say hi and catch up on where life has taken us. I promise I'll get to all of you. As long as I have your contact info.

Fare Thee Well New England Shore

I’ve been intermittently staring at a blank white page on my computer screen for most of the morning now, trying to find the motivation/inspiration/punctuation (wait, what?) to post a real, honest-to-goodness blog update that consists of words and thoughts rather than links, embeds, and bullet points. Over the last year, every blog I read on a regular basis has slowed posting to the point of non-interest, mine included. Why? What is the reason for this national, irrational ennui that seems to be sweeping over us? Is it just that we have all grown tired of trying to inform the masses about our daily thoughts, hopes, and dreams? Has the Facebook/Twitter/IM/Chat phenomenon altered our communications so much that my life at any given moment can be summed up in two sentences or less? Or do I just not care anymore?

My life, my family’s life, is not one that can be summed up, all consideration to Inigo Montoya aside. However, setting time to actually write something I consider being of some value to the reader is more of an issue now than it used to be. Life getting in the way? Status Updates are the ready-made solution.

Here’s mine for today, not summed up at all:

Oh my God, here we go again.

Yup, for the fourth time in eight years, we have moved. The difference is that this time around, we moved out of necessity. Back in September, just about six months after everyone had realized that Indian casinos were not recession-proof, my position here at Foxwoods/MPTN came within reach of the grasping claws of our failing economy. My contract was not to be renewed for the upcoming year.

Throughout my career, I have never had any difficulty finding employment. I have been met before I walk out the door with at least one job offer. This time, however, things were different. In the past four months, I have sent out over 50 applications, been in contact with no less than 10 recruiters, and have only had two interviews to show for my efforts.

I am very good at what I do. There is simply not enough development and construction happening to accommodate the ever-growing number of professionals who are now looking for work. At one point, I was told by one recruiter that he could not even place an executive with 30 years of experience.

Faced with the real possibility of having to find interim employment, we made the decision to leave Connecticut and move back to Buffalo. We have more family support available there. We have property there. We would be able to move into the house next to Leah’s mother. And our cost of living would decrease significantly. Unbelievably, the job market in Western New York is actually better than that of Southeastern Connecticut and Rhode Island, so there was a better chance for me to find a position up there anyway. Based on what I had received for feedback, there was also a real chance that I would end up having to travel for work beyond what my family could do or what we were comfortable with. Being in Buffalo would give Leah and the boys the security, and support they would need if I was forced to work somewhere they could not go.

So the weekend before Christmas, we packed up a moving truck, and I drove across New York State again. All things considered, the move went amazingly smooth.

We were then blessed with the best thing to come out of this craziness, and that was Sam being admitted to the Elmwood Village Charter School. It is considered the best school in the city right now. There was one opening available for the entire City of Buffalo, and somehow the Gods smiled down upon us and granted him admittance. Sibling preference assures that Noah and Aidan will go there next year as well. The twins are now in a great full-day pre-K program on the Buffalo State University campus.

Then, one more piece of good fortune. One of the two companies that I actually had interviews with offered me a position last Friday. I accepted and will start my new job this coming Monday. In Buffalo. About two blocks from Sam’s school. I’m going to be building hotels all along the eastern seaboard for a private firm whose owner used to take his children sailing in Mystic during the summer.

So despite the frustrations, the worries, the anxiety, the fights, the tears, and the endless hours of hopeful speculation and contingency planning, things seem to be working out. We will miss our friends and family in Stonington/Westerly very much. But we will return for long vacations in the summers. My brother Chris’ mother-in-law put it best.

“You were meant to live in Connecticut for a reason, now you’re meant to live in Buffalo. Life is going to happen whether you like it or not. And really, it’s only a drive across New York.”