I am going on an Unexpected Journey. I will return in a couple of days, with my musings from the train, and a chronicle of my adventures over this weekend.

-Tex

We’ve got about an hour to kill, as we wait here in Martinez for the train up to Seattle. Both my wife and son are fast asleep, as it’s long past their bedtimes. I myself would love to take a little nap, but I really don’t want to have to wait until almost 11pm tomorrow night, should we miss our train. So I guess I need to think of something to keep my mind occupied, and do enough smoking to last me until the morning.

I wish I could board a train and find at least one car dedicated to tobacco usage. It would be nice. And you could deal with the issue of second-hand smoke by opening up the connections between cars. Just have some sort of ventilation in the (now accurately named) breezeway.

The last time I took a train along this line was two weeks shy of twelve years ago. I was on my way to move in with my best friend due to promises of palm trees. It was in the high 30’s and rainy when I left Seattle, and 60 or 70 and sunny when I arrived in Emeryville.

UPDATE: Our train has been delayed due to some nonsense further down the line. There’s no E.T.A. until the situation us resolved. This basically puts us in an uncomfortable position: The train either needs to get here by 2:45am tomorrow, or not get here until around 7am. Anything in between and we’re going to be stuck in downtown Seattle waiting for the ferries to start running again. Might be time for that nap, after all.

It started raining down here about an hour ago. Looks like the transition to the Great Northwest will be easier than anticipated. Looking outside, I am struck by how positively homesick I’ve become. Just another 27 and a half hours until I arrive in the Land of my Birth.

In about sixteen and a half hours, we’ll be getting on a train and heading up to Seattle for the holidays. My wife is on vacation, and we’re pulling David out of school a couple of days early. I can’t really ever sleep before traveling, so today is going to drag on a bit..

My laptop is packed already, so I won’t be able to do a proper post until about 11pm tonight. To make up for this, I’ll try and post a series of bite-sized morsels leading up to the beginning of our journey.

I, of course, am fully packed. My two companions have yet to do likewise. Probably it has more to do with exhaustion than a dearth of excitement. David is getting over his fever, and Flor had been working herself to death, trying to get everything perfect for our grandson’s 2nd Birthday Extravaganza (although, to be fair, compared to last year, his party is almost entirely reasonable).

I have to run out and do a couple things that I’ve been putting off, as I won’t be back until 2015. Still, I’m pretty sure I can take a nap, both at home this afternoon, and once again this evening after we change trains.

-Tex

…and the only prescription is a couple of aspirin and bed rest.

We were called by the school today to go get the Monkey because he wasn’t feeling well. When we got there, we was curled up in the Nurse’s Office, peeking toward the door, waiting for us to arrive. He was just a little ball of feelin’ icky: Fever, sore throat, nausea. We brought him home, and laid him down in bed to watch Phineas and Ferb as he drifted off to sleep, cuddling up and telling him that he would be okay. Of course, this evening, my wife and I are feeling just about the same, so now it’s about trying to get better before visiting my grandparents.

So we’ll be taking a couple sick days, here at The Vaults.

-Tex

Good morning, everybody!

I’m still working on something that I think is topical, possibly worth reading, and considering the subject matter, I’m trying to get it right. My hope is to have it up mid-week, which will allow me to finish writing it, and discuss it with my editor.

Today the Seattle Seahawks host the San Francisco 49ers for what promises to be an exciting match of Sportsball at 1:25 this afternoon (Pacific). If you are into that sort of thing, I recommend tuning into the broadcast, as it’s likely to be a prime example of sports-like things.

In other news: The Vaults Of Uncle Walt will be travelling to Seattle soon, so expect a clever travelogue as we make our way Up North. I can never sleep before I travel, so my ramblings will most likely be disjointed and sarcastic. So, you know, my usual stuff.

Have a great Sunday, and I’ll see all of you back here tomorrow!

-Tex

And now, the conclusion:

We got back into the apartment with just seconds to spare. David ran straight for the bathroom, tossing his backpack off on the sofa by the door,and leaving a trail of fluttering papers and falling laundry behind him. The bathroom door slammed shut, and I winced as I then heard my wife’s half-wakened grumblings from within the bedroom. It also appeared that the door slamming shut had awakened my grandson, as a plaintive wailing rose above the garbled Spanish cursing. I sighed and retrieved the backpack, walking gingerly toward the bedroom door to see what manner of creature we had roused. As I peeked my head in through the doorway, I breathed a sigh of relief, as Flor had somehow fallen back asleep, the cursing gently dying down to be swallowed by her snores.

Upon exiting the restroom, my son inquired once again about his chances to play Xbox. Running all the options through my head, and considering the volume implications of each one, I decided that letting him play Xbox was the lesser of the evils available to him. He powered on the console, surprisingly subdued in his excitement, and scrolled through the games until he got to Ducktales. I’d gotten the remastered game as an inexpensive birthday gift for myself, but saw how much his face lit up, and told him it was a Christmas present that he could play with early.

A year and a half ago, he wouldn’t even pick up a controller. He just demanded that I play LEGO Star Wars or LEGO Batman as soon as I got home from work. I kept trying to get him to play, but he would shove the controller back into my hand, and said that he just wanted to see me play. It wasn’t until I was almost done beating LEGO Star Wars 3, that I finally got the chance to include him in the game. It was a pretty easy part, and by that, I mean that it was almost inconceivable that he could find a way to screw it up. There were many tears shed, but we finally got to the bottom of his reluctance to take up the mediocre gaming mantle from his old man: he was terrified of doing something wrong. He would rather give up an opportunity to explore the artfully rendered world of Star Wars or Batman in glorious LEGO detail than to possibly not do everything perfectly. Sweet Jesus, the boy is truly mine own son.

It took him a while to get the hang of gaming, and for the most part, I still have to do the hard stuff for him, like manage his in-game finances and beat the Bosses. but he actually wants to play now. Of course, that’s opened up another can of worms entirely, but his hand-eye coordination is improving, as well as his problem solving abilities. Now if I could only find a way to make books as interesting for him, I think I’d be all set.

Together, we powered through most of the levels, with David doing most of each map, and Daddy jumping in at dead end situations and Boss confrontations. I finally called it a day for Xbox when he began getting whiny and frustrated when we couldn’t get past the Final Boss (at least I think it’s the Final Boss. Like I said, we haven’t gotten past it). His shrieks of displeasure finally woke his mother, but it was within a half an hour of when she had to get up anyway, so I’m going to say that Operation: Oh Look, Shiny! was a resounding success. Flor seemed more relaxed at having gotten any sleep, and got ready for her third-to-last shift before taking her vacation. As she was getting ready, I made us a quick dinner, and got the Blu-Ray player set up so that we could watch The Giver. My son and I said our goodbyes as she was walking out the door, and turned away and strode inside and back into the bedroom.

It was only just past 7 when we put the movie on. I’d wrangled David into his jammies, and made the bed, and dimmed the lights. We curled up under the covers, and with a forehead smooch, I began the movie.

“Why is it in black and white?”

“Because Jonas hasn’t learned to see colors yet.”

“Can we watch something else?”

“Dude, you liked the book. What’s wrong?”

“Black and white is for old movies! I don’t wanna watch an old movie!”

“Dude, this just came out. And there’s nothing wrong with black and white movies. Just hang tight, man.”

“Okay, but if I don’t like it, can we watch another movie?”

“I’m watching this one, so if you don’t want to watch, you can go to sleep.”

My son harrumphed, but decided to keep watching. Every few minutes or so, he would ask me what was happening, or what was going to happen. To this I would inevitably respond, that not only had we read the book together, but if he would simply close his mouth and pay attention, he would have a better idea of what was going on. His curiosity mostly satisfied, he cuddled back into my arms and actually watched the movie. A short while later, during Jonas’ training, he got upset at the hunting of an elephant. “It isn’t fair,” he said, “and it really wasn’t nice at all.” I agreed with him, and said that was kind of the point.

Now that he was actually engaged with the movie, he sat up slightly, paying just a bit more attention to what was on the screen. And then, before I knew it, Jeff Bridges was flashing back to Vietnam, and I paused the movie so my son and I could have a little talk about war. He said it scared him, and he didn’t like it when people were shooting other people. He thought they shouldn’t kill anybody. He said he didn’t know what happened when we died, but if there isn’t Heaven, then when those people died, it was just really unfair because then they couldn’t be alive any more.

As the movie passed into its final act, David was alert, but tightly snuggled into me. He was tense as our protagonist raced towards the final moments, and hoped that he would get there before it was too late. The movie ended (in a far more Hollywood inspired climax), and I asked him what he thought. He didn’t think there should be Receivers of Memory. He thought that people needed to be able to love the little babies (he usually finds a way to connect a concept to feelings toward his nephew). and that people shouldn’t hurt each other. And mid-sentence, just as he was going to define for me his unified theory of everything, he just passed out. And it was only slightly past 8:30.

I never have any problems getting him to sleep on Friday nights, and he never has any issues waking up on Saturday mornings. I feel like I should lie to him, and tell him that he doesn’t have to go to school tomorrow (for every tomorrow that’s applicable), and in the morning tell him that they changed their minds, and he’s got to get ready for the day. I feel like such a Parental Unit.

Thanks for enjoying this adventure in three parts. I’ll see you all tomorrow with something a little less Peter Jackson.

-Tex

And now, the continuation:

On the return trip, he began sipping from his sports drink, and I advised him to take it easy, as we wouldn’t be in bathroom range for quite while to go. Amazingly, he didn’t argue. He just screwed the cap back on the bottle and, I swear I’m not making this up, he actually behaved himself all the way to Walgreens! But as we entered the automatic doorway of our local apothecary, I knew it had been too good to last. Almost immediately began the demands to look at toys and to be given candy. And when I picked out my deodorant, the primary reason for our visit (Christmas came early for my wife this year!), he began asking why I needed it. Luckily, before I would have had to improvise an edited version of The Birds and Stinky Bees, he asked if we were getting anything else from that section of the store, like nighttime diapers or… toys. Again, I told him that we weren’t getting toys or chocolates, and reminded him that if he couldn’t pull himself together, he would find himself without a snack. He led the way at a steady pace, head hung in resignation, toward the beverages and snack aisle.

I grabbed a couple snack wraps and bottle of Code Red, while David chose a Lunchable. He tried to convince me that he should get a soda too, since I was getting one, and then caught himself, and said, “You know what, Dad? You’re right. This comes with a Wild Cherry juice. Do you know why they call it ‘Wild Cherry’?”

Before I could respond, he blurted out, “Because the cherries are so Wild!” I stared blankly down at him, as the maniacal giggling had begun, and simply shook my head. I placed my hand upon his back, and did the best I could to guide him the the register before he had the chance to ask for anything else, or worse: attempt another “joke.” I glanced over at the Redbox kiosk on my right, but needed both my hands for what they were doing, and after paying for our stuff, I could use David’s backpack to free them up to browse. So we entered into the line, three back from the cashier. The photo department called out for the next in line, and we were left behind a woman trying to scrounge enough change out of the bottom of her purse to buy a bouquet of drugstore roses. Five minutes (no exaggeration), and a constant stream of my son schilling for the candy companies, later, we were finally able to buy our five items and be on our way. It took just under a minute (including packing everything into his backpack), and we were walking to the rental machine.

Like I said in Part One, Guardians of the Galaxy was Out of Stock (with prejudice) and I began scrolling through the options to find some cinematic delight acceptable to both my son and to myself. His eyes lit up at How To Train Your Dragon 2, but I’ve already purchased it for him as a Christmas present, and have, therefore, become on willing to spend any more money upon it. Most of the other films they had on display seemed wildly inappropriate for him, but then I saw that The Giver was in stock, and remembered just how proud I’d been when we actually got through that book together.

On a side note: From when I first read that book, many years ago, I could only remember the messages of the dangers of conformity and that adults are stupid and not to be trusted. I wasn’t prepared for how Old Man and The Massage it was. I guess if you’ve never experienced anything other than your childhood innocence, then everything is filtered through that lens. My son seemed only to be interested in the parts where Jonas discovers color and the meaning of life, skipping over, in its entirety, the mentions of implied pederasty and having children sponge-bathe senior citizens. Also, I realized that the Divergent series seemed to be nothing more than an expansion on the notions first put forth in The Giver (which I’m sure probably robbed from Dr. Seuss), but somehow made it sexier, and aimed primarily at teenaged girls. Rant concluded.

Redbox then offered me the chance to save fifty cents (OMG! Half a dollar!) if I rented a second movie. I figured, What the heck! and began scrolling through again. David felt this was his best chance to snag the film he wanted, but I decided on the new X-Men flick because who doesn’t enjoy watching stories about time travel, mutations, and Peter Dinklage. My son was, of course, disappointed in the films which I’d selected, but I reminded him of who was paying, and he backed down, just a little.

In all our walking and our haggling over the things which I would buy, we’d only managed to kill just under ninety minutes since the end of school. I allowed my son to talk me into heading to our cool, secluded lunch spot (just behind the Not-Quite-Richmond City Hall). We ate our prepackaged “meals” and talked about the weather. And squirrels. And whether or not he would be allowed to play the Xbox later, since it wasn’t a school night, and he’d been such a good boy that entire day. I told him that we’d see, and stole a cookie from his snack platter while he wasn’t looking.

We finished up and headed home, taking the back roads to heighten the sense of adventure. We played that we were elven scouts on the run from some bedeviled goblin army, and that we had to make it to our castle without being seen by their patrols. This game stretched out what would have been a ten minute walk into something closer to about twenty. I’d managed to buy my wife another couple hours of uninterrupted sleep, and could do no more, as the time had come that David had to use the restroom.

TO BE CONCLUDED…

I had a decent day today. I think I’ve caught up on all the sleep that I’d been missing, trying to transition into a more nocturnal rhythm, and balancing that against having to be awake at certain times throughout the day, because apparently it’s frowned upon to let your child wait an extra hour at his school after classes finish for the day. I have nothing but the utmost respect for my wife, who has been walking this tightrope for the past two years, in addition to entertaining our grandson, and doing laundry, and grocery shopping, and never quite getting around to actually sleeping more than just a couple hours in the predawn morning, and again after she brings the Minkey home from school. I thought that everything was going swimmingly, heading into Wednesday, and that I could keep up with the pace I’d set myself, but when my wife returned to work that evening, my writing couldn’t start until almost 10pm, and by then I was exhausted, having spent almost three hours trying to convince my son that it was bedtime. Yesterday was a complete wash, as I couldn’t even think straight, and everything I tried to write just withered on the page after about 300 words.

So to celebrate a good night’s sleep, I went to Redbox and picked us up a couple movies. Of course, Guardians of the Galaxy was out of stock (and will probably remain so for at least a little while), so I settled for X-Men: Days of Future Past (primarily because of the hilarious send-up Honest Movie Trailers did a while ago), and The Giver, which was my reward to David for letting me get through that entire book when I was trying to read it to him. I was curious to see his reaction to the way movies usually butcher the source material, and see if he would prove himself a true reader with the utterance, “The book was better.”

It was still fairly early in the afternoon, and I could only imagine how little sleep my wife had managed, as she was still awake when I finally had passed out, and yet never woke me up this morning when it was time to take David to school. I knew he actually went to school due to a noticeable peace and quiet in the room, save from the saw mill horizontally splayed upon the bed beside me, when I finally acquiesced to my bladder’s demands for action around 1:30 this afternoon. Knowing that she normally gets roped into volunteering at the school, or volunteering here at home, I figured she’d probably only just laid down to bed, and decided to just go get David, and then take him with me as I ran my errands, so as to buy my beloved at least a couple of hours more to dream.

His class is most often the last class to appear after the final bell has rung (although it’s really more of an automated buzzer that can be heard half a mile away with clarity), unless either we are somehow running a little late, in which case we are chastised for for having not been there since final dismissal, with no acknowledgement of early arrivals almost every other day. And so it goes. I told him we were going on an adventure, so if he had to use the potty, five minutes ago was really the ideal time. He said he was fine, so off we went upon our epic journey through the very heart of Not-Quite-Richmond, CA.

“Where are we going? he asked at least a half a dozen times. “Are we going to McDonald’s?”

“I told you already, David.” I explained for now, the seventh time, “We’re dropping something off at the Post Office, walking up to just past the Subway, and then coming back to get some beverages at Walgreens.”

“But then can we go to McDonald’s?”

I let him put the envelope in the collection box, noting that the final pickup was at 5 o’clock. One errand down and two to go. “Okay,” I said, “we’re going to my store now.”

“Is it far?”

“Just up past Subway, almost to your doctor’s office.”

“But I don’t have to go to the doctor today.”

“Didn’t you have an appointment this morning? Hey, how’d it go anyway?”

“Oh, no… they called Mommy and cancelled.”

“Um… okay, so then…” I paused, not really wanting to ask him any more about it, as his answers most likely wouldn’t get me any closer to the truth than my own imagination. “Well, you know we’re not actually going there. I’m letting you know roundabouts where we’re headed.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

We chatted about how his test in school went, and some of the trouble I got into when I was still in school. We agreed that math is easy, and that it probably wouldn’t hurt him to put a little bit more effort into his attempts at pen(cil)smanship. “So Mommy said that I’m going to get a computer for my birthday.” He said, out of the blue.

“Okay,” I replied, “You know that’s, like, half a year away, right?”

“Well, I was thinking that maybe I could have it for Christmas…”

“If it’s going to be a birthday present, why would you think that you could get it for Christmas?”

“Because I want it.”

“Well, okay then.”

“I also want LEGO Batman 3.”

“I know, honey, me too. But it’s still really expensive.”

“You said I’d get it for Christmas…”

“No, I said that you might get it for Christmas. But I really can’t afford it right now.”

“Maybe Santa can bring it for me!”

“You know he doesn’t do electronics or software, right?”

“What about a robot?”

“Is it a toy, or a real robot?”

“A real robot.”

“Then no, David, he can’t get that made for you.”

“Okay, it’s a toy robot.”

“I think Santa might be able to swing that.”

We arrived at our secondary destination, where I stocked up on cigarettes for my trip up to Seattle, as I’m not going to pay $3 more a pack for nicotine. I got him a Gatorade for going above and beyond the call of childhood, and not needing to use the bathroom even once in the past half hour since I had gotten him from school. Our second errand run, we turned around and headed home, with a pit stop at Walgreens along the way.

TO BE CONTINUED…

So I’ve been working on a few things today, and nothing really seems to be coming together. I’ve written at least one column’s worth, but sadly, that’s the word count from about three stalled projects combined. I’m taking my time on my “Very Special report on Inequality” which I’ll be posting tomorrow, in addition to at least one other counterpoint, which I’m also polishing in preparation. Depending on when I get all my errands done today, I may have something to share in time for an Evening Edition.

I want to thank you all so much for giving me part of your day, and I hope that I’ve entertained or enlightened you, in return. As this Blog moves forward, I’ll try to include more timely responses to events transpiring around me, and even attempt a humor piece or two.

I look forward to your company again, and have a wonderful conclusion to your week!

-Tex