Windshield wipers

In recent weeks it has rained almost every day.  Soggy even for Seattle.  And it’s reminded me of the time years ago that we got a brand-new Ford Fairlane station wagon.

My Dad believed cars were to get people from point A to point B.  They were not comfortably furnished living rooms with wheels in which one might listen to a radio or indulge in frivolous playthings like electric windows or power steering.  Car = transportation.  Even so, I was 13 and excited about a new car in the family.  We’d had the old station wagon for ten years, and several delays in the delivery of the new one only heightened my sense of anticipation.

It finally arrived:  “Silver Smoke Gray,” pretty blue steel dashboard, three-speed manual transmission with shifter on the steering column, no radio, all crank-down windows, including the tailgate window.  It was Exhibit A for my Dad’s functional view of cars.

This was the era when it was practical and affordable to “go for a drive,” and we took the new car out for a spin after church one Sunday.  We ventured much farther than our usual routes, onto back roads and into countryside we’d not seen before.  I’ve always enjoyed exploring new areas and neighborhoods, and what could be better than touring in the new Fairlane?

It started to rain.  Almost immediately after turning on the windshield wipers, the bracket that connects the electric motor to the wiper arms broke.  Rain was coming down in buckets and we didn’t have a way to clear the windshield in the gathering darkness.  But it turned out that there was a way.  I lowered myself under the dashboard with my feet up on the front seat and pulled that broken bracket back and forth by hand.  Hadn’t realized that even the windshield wipers on this car were manual.

Seems like it took us at least an hour to get home, which – is – a – lot – of – pulling – back – and – forth – to – keep – the – windshield – clear.  All the sparkle and appeal of that car evaporated in that hour, and it never returned.  In fact, if someone had stopped us along the way that afternoon and offered us two cents for the car, they probably would have had themselves a deal.

That was 1965, and there hasn’t been another Ford in our family since.

Sometimes change sucks

In May Zack started delivering the West Seattle Herald to about 30 customers around our neighborhood on Wednesday afternoons.  His first time doing the route by himself was in the pouring rain, pulling papers out of his backpack, checking addresses off his list, trying to keep everything dry – what a miserable way to start a job.  Susan got a tearful call from our newly-minted carrier, and was able to help him get the papers delivered and figure out some easier ways to do it next time.

Zack settled right into the routine.  His buddies helped him deliver papers.  He struck up friendly conversations with neighbors.  He acquired new customers, earned tips, and wrote thank you notes.  He deposited checks in his new bank account and had his own money to spend on the school band trip to Idaho.  Zack enjoyed a responsibility that belonged just to him.

Now big newspapers are fighting for survival.  Our own well-loved Seattle Post-Intelligencer lost the fight a few months ago, leaving the city with one daily paper that has no soul.  Smaller papers are feeling the squeeze, too.  The West Seattle Herald is consolidating its operations and switching to distribution by mail, and this past Wednesday was the last time neighborhood carriers delivered the paper.

Like millions of boys, having a paper route was Zack’s first regular job.  Like millions of Americans, he recently lost his job.  He’s already had at least one of his customers ask if he’s available for other work, so it’s good that he can see how ‘referrals’ and ‘networking’ and ‘good customer service’ come into play.  It just bugs me a little bit that he had his first taste of ‘unemployment’ at the age of 13.

Learning

This evening Lauren (15) was preparing for a Biology test while the rest of us watched “Marley and Me.”  She took a break and came downstairs to give us a preview of what she was studying.

Lauren understands that she is a visual learner and uses flash cards to very good effect.  Somewhere along the way she determined that she doesn’t respond as well to blue or black writing as she does to other colors, so she made her current set of flash cards with purple and yellow pens.  Don’t ask me.

Allow me one little example of her approach to learning:  knowing that “ventre” is the French word for stomach helps her to remember that “ventral” refers to the front surfaces of any structure.  Same thing with “dos” (French word for back) and “dorsal.”  Lauren thought French and Biology were completely unrelated subjects, then she started discovering connections like these.

* * * * * * * * * *

Our thinking about education has always been that we want the kids to love learning, as that’s something they’ll enjoy all their lives.  Lauren showed us this evening an awesome example of how she’s drinking in facts and information and finding new ways in which to connect pieces of her world.  It’s a great encouragement and delight to see her education actually blossoming – like she is – right before our eyes.

A family’s journey through breast cancer

This is a lengthy post. It consists of 19 entries during the course of my wife’s diagnosis and treatment for breast cancer in 2004. It contains funny and frank stories, things that helped us get through a difficult time, and a look at how a life-threatening condition played out in our family.

April 27, 2004 (update #1)

To the many members of Susan’s Fan Club:

Here we are again, “standin’ in the need of prayer.” We learned this week that Susan has “early abnormal cells of ductal carcinoma in situ” (early stage breast cancer). A cluster of tiny spots showed up on a mammogram last summer, and a second cluster appeared on a follow-up mammogram in March.

Middle school sophistication

Zack (12) rolled his chair into the hall when he heard Lauren (14) come home from school with her friend Colleen. He’s pretty good at keeping a poker face, but he can’t hide the twinkle in his eyes,

Kids, part 4

This little series starts with Kids, part 1; other links at right.

Lauren 9, Zack 6-1/2

A girl at school whacked Zack on the head with a purse that had rocks in it. Tom asked if Zack wanted a “daddy kiss” to help it feel better. “Where on your forehead did you get bonked?” Zack answered, “It wasn’t on my forehead, but it was in the same column.”

* * * * * * *
Mr. Logical begins spelling his name “Z-A-C-K” because “Z-A-C-H” would be pronounced “zatch.”

Kids, part 3

If you haven’t read them, you might want to start with Kids, part 1
and Kids, part 2.

Lauren 7, Zack 5

Lauren was admiring her reflection in one of the big dining room windows. Tom had her sit on his lap and told her the story of Narcissus, the handsome young man who fell in love with his own reflection. He eventually drowned when he tumbled into the water trying to get a closer look at himself. Lauren thought for a moment before concluding: “Boy, I’m sure glad I know how to swim!”  

Kids, part 2

Hold it! This might make a little more sense if you start with Kids, part 1.

Lauren 6, Zack 4

‘Reading’ a Christmas poem to Tom, Lauren rattled off the gifts presented by the Wise Men to the baby Jesus: “Gold, Frankenstein, and myrrh.”

* * * * *
Lauren asked Susan last night if there was electricity when she was a little girl. Yes, we had electricity, but no color TV, fancy stereos, CDs or VCRs. Lauren then asked, “Did you wear bustle dresses?”  

Kids, part 1

Over the years we’ve jotted down things the kids said that have had us in stitches or in tears, and have helped us see the world through their eyes. We’re very glad we did it…

Lauren, age 2

Roads on the Oregon Coast were being repaired after winter storms. When a car passed us driving much too fast on a large patch of gravel, Tom muttered, “Idiot!” Lauren immediately wanted to know what an idiot was. The next night we were driving on the same stretch of road and Lauren asked, “Daddy, where’s the idiot?”