RIP Dr. Cade

From Jack Stripling of the Gainesville Sun:

Dr. Robert Cade, the lead inventor of Gatorade and a University of Florida professor, died Tuesday morning, his family confirmed. He was 80.

Along with a team of other scientists, Cade created the popular sports drink in 1965. Since that time, Gatorade has become a boon for UF, generating $150 million in royalties for the university and helping to establish UF as a premier research institution.

Dr. Jim Free, who worked under Cade in the creation of Gatorade, said Tuesday that Cade was first and foremost a kind man who made it his mission to spread knowledge.

"His contributions were so multiple that it's just hard to cover them," Free said. "His main contribution is that he was a very nice, decent, generous person, and that he was dedicated to education. He was a real educator, a real researcher and a real academician and held a real place of honor at the University of Florida because he spent his whole career there teaching and doing his research. The things he's accomplished have been amazing."

The story of Gatorade has become the stuff of legend, in both the worlds of sports and business. The drink was produced to help Gator football players deal with the sweltering Gainesville heat, which was leading to intense dehydration. It became much more than one team's secret beverage, however, and is now the "official" sports drink of the National Football League, the National Basketball Association, Major League Baseball and several other significant professional sports groups.

Of late, Cade has been the recipient of many honors bestowed by the university. He was inducted into the Gators' athletics hall of fame recently, and just this month a plaque was erected on campus proclaiming UF as the "birthplace of Gatorade."

Back to work

After spending a nice Friday with my aunt and uncle and cousin, we got all packed up and were ready to leave Saturday morning. In fact, we were in the van, waving goodbye, and backing out of the driveway when my uncle noticed a large puddle of fresh oil. For some reason, our van had developed a bad oil leak. It didn't leak too badly when the van was off, but when the engine turned on, it was like opening a faucet.

Saturday of a holiday weekend is not the easiest time to find a mechanic, especially out in the boonies. We did find a Pep Boys in Albuquerque that had a mechanic on duty until 8 pm. The next step was getting the van towed there. It took a couple of hours, but finally we had the van at Pep Boys getting looked at.

Uncle Doug and I waited around till they did the oil leak diagnostic. There were 3 leaks, and all 3 required special order parts. Then came the big blow: they couldn't get the parts until Monday. I called Cristina and discussed it, but we really had no choice. We would have to stay in Tijeras until Monday and hopefully get back to Phoenix late Monday night (actually, early Tuesday morning). I'd miss at least one day of work, the kids would have to miss school, and Cristina would miss her first day of work at a toy store (that's another story...stay tuned).

Uncle Doug and I got back to their house in time for the second half of the UF-FSU game, which Aunt Lynn was recording on DVD for me. I didn't really miss that much because the previous game, Tennessee vs. Kentucky, went into 4 overtimes. They weren't even airing the Florida game till that was over. I'll have to download the game to catch the first half.

After the game, Uncle Doug had an idea. They were already planning to go to Tucson in a few days. He said we could drive one of their vehicles to Phoenix on Sunday. They would pick up our van on Monday and drive it to Tucson. Then, at some point later in the week, we could arrange to meet halfway between Phoenix and Tucson to swap cars. It was an incredibly generous offer which we decided to take him up on.

So here I am at work now. Monday morning (well, it's actually 12:30). Pep Boys should have the parts by now and be working on our van. I hope it all goes smoothly for my aunt and uncle to pick it up this afternoon (or evening).

It was a fun trip and I'm having a hard time getting my head back into teaching. But that usually happens the day or two after a holiday break.

Thanksgiving in New Mexico

I'm trying to think. In all my adult years, I don't think I've been anywhere where it snowed for Thanksgiving. I've spent Thanksgivings in Florida, North Carolina, Arizona...even New York City and Costa Rica. But I think this might be a first. We're in Tijeras, New Mexico right now, and there's about an inch and a half on the ground.

We're staying with my Uncle Doug and Aunt Lynn, as well as my cousin Mark. We left Phoenix after work on Wednesday and arrived at their place about 2 AM. We thought they'd be in bed, but they were up, playing dominoes.

Thursday was, of course, cooking and eating day. I made the mashed potatoes and corn casserole. Mark made mashed sweet potatoes. Sofia and Aunt Lynn made the cranberries and green bean casserole. Uncle Doug cooked the turkey. It was kind of nice to not be responsible for the turkey for the first time in 5 or 6 years! Uncle Doug's dressing was excellent. Here's what my plate looked like:

It was so good, I had another plate of seconds just as full as the first. I should have been a bit more moderate, because afterwards, I felt way too full. In typical Thanksgiving fashion, I snoozed a little bit while Uncle Doug was showing us his digital photo album.

We had pie a few hours after the meal. Aunt Lynn had baked 3 pies: pumpkin, pecan, and apple. I overdid that as well, having a small piece of each. Later on, the kids had a small dinner of leftovers, but I was done for the day.

We're staying till Saturday morning. Today, the kids have been playing in the snow. Our friend Tara bought Vivien a coat and little boots, so we've been using those here in the cold weather. The boots don't stay on very well, and she won't walk very much when we've got them on her, but the coat is great. I won't say that she likes the coat, but she certainly doesn't mind it. And it does keep her warmer.

When Bella wakes from her nap, we're going to drive into Albuquerque and go to some museums.

I hope everyone is having a nice Thanksgiving!

Playing Uno

The New Cats

Cristina was at the vet's office last week to pick something up and she saw a flyer for 2 free cats. One of the employees at the vet's office, Charley, just got married and it turns out her husband is allergic to cats. So she's looking for a home for them. They are about 4 years old, house broken, great with dogs, fixed, full shots,...the whole works. She thinks they are brother and sister. They were found together about 2 years ago, either lost or abandoned and, if I'm remembering the story correctly, someone turned them in to the vet's office. Charley wound up taking them home and would have kept them if her new husband wasn't allergic (they didn't know till he moved in).

We had thought about getting two cats this time around anyway. Since we go away for long periods of time, it would be nice for there to be 2 cats to keep each other company. I'm sure Coco went a little stir crazy by himself when we'd leave for 6 weeks. We figured we'd probably get a couple of cats from the humane society, but that would still cost at least a hundred dollars a piece. And these were free. Hmm...

What made this seem like destiny is that Charley also has 2 French bulldogs. So these cats are completely used to that breed of dog. That boded well.

We went to see them last Friday and we brought them home.

There names are Ling Ling (the girl) and Cash (the boy). We liked the names and decided not to change them. Besides, if we had to give up a pet, it would be painful to know that his/her name was going to be changed. Charley teared up a little when we loaded them into our van, and when I told her we were keeping the names, I sensed that that made her feel better.

Here's the kids letting them out of their carriers for the first time in our living room.

Ling Ling


She supposedly comes when you call her name in a high pitch


Cash (named after Johnny Cash) likes sleeping in the garage


Actually, he likes sleeping just about anywhere

Evolution of a fan

Most of you know that I’m a big Gator football fan. But many of you who have known me for years also know that wasn’t always the case. In fact, there was a time when I didn’t care that much about football at all. So, as Cristina often asks, what happened to me? How did this happen?

Sounds like great material for a blog.

I’ve been giving this a lot of thought the past week and I’m ready to analyze my evolution as a Gator football fan.

First of all, it didn’t happen overnight. And it wasn’t just one thing, but rather a combination of many things (at least 6).

In high school, my friends and I went to football games as a social activity. We sometimes watched the games and enjoyed them. I especially remember a homecoming game when Dom’s now-brother-in-law, our quarterback Joe Kane, made a big play that electrified the crowd. I don’t remember the play, but I know it was a big deal. Maybe he scrambled and ran for a touchdown. Something like that.

But in high school, I didn’t watch much college football, and the only NFL games we watched were Super Bowls. Going to high school an hour from Gainesville, though I wouldn’t have called myself an outright Gator fan, I had a little bit of Gator stuff (a Gator sweatshirt and a Gator blanket). When I chose the University of Florida for college, the football program had no bearing on my decision. I got accepted to UF, USF, and UCF, and I picked UF because it had more prestige.

My first year at UF was coincidentally also Steve Spurrier’s first year as head coach. Throughout my 4 undergraduate years, I was mildly bewildered at the Gator football frenzy. I went to a few games, but usually just observed from a distance. In fact, I remember hearing the roar of the crowd in the stadium from my dorm room, less than a mile away.

So let’s break down the pivotal factors that transformed me.

• Being immersed in the culture

Living on campus during the excitement of the dawn of the Spurrier era didn’t immediately transform me, but it had an effect. In fact, I lived on campus for about 7 years total (1 year in Trusler Hall and about 6 years in Married Student Housing). Just through sheer osmosis, I soaked up a lot of Gator football.

• My father-in-law

When I married Cristina in 1993, I became a part of a family that included a major Gator fan. Ramon was a UF student in the late 70’s, so he was an old-school fan from that great run in the early 80’s. Cristina remembers her dad taking them all on a victory cruise down University Ave. in 1984 when the Gators first won the SEC (the championship was later taken away due to NCAA violations). Frequently throughout the mid 90’s, we would be at my in-laws’ house while a game was on and I would watch the games with my father-in-law. In doing that, I started to become more familiar with players, Spurrier’s offensive genius, and the storylines that transpired week to week. By 1996, I was pretty much hooked. Not yet a full-fledged nutso, but hooked to the point that I desired to watch the games. Or at least the big ones.

• National Championship 1996

Here’s one indication of how my viewing habits were evolving. I remember being in North Carolina for a funeral in November and watching the UF/FSU game in our hotel room. UF had been undefeated, and with agony, I watched our potentially-perfect season be tarnished by our arch-rival by a slim margin. I don’t remember whose funeral it was exactly (it was one of my grandparents, but 3 of them died within a short period of time, so it’s all kind of a blur) but I remember that game.

I remember vividly watching the Gators win the SEC the following week (which was almost a foregone conclusion by that point…we pretty much owned the SEC) and then the rematch with FSU for the whole enchilada.

Winning the National Championship, and all the hoopla that goes with it, further pushed me over the edge.

• UF vs. LSU, 1998

I was slipping further and further into my Gator addiction, but I was still somewhat of a closet fan. Cristina didn’t realize how serious it was getting. To her, I was still the disinterested non-fan that she’d met in 1992.

When we hosted an exchange student from Germany for 4 weeks in the fall of 1998, I decided it would be a cool experience to take her to a Gator football game. I mean, if you’re only in the States for 4 weeks, going to an SEC game in the Swamp with 90,000 crazy fans is an experience to remember. I got tickets from another teacher at GHS.

She had a great time, and though it wasn’t my first game, in a way it was. It was the first game I had attended as a bona fide fan. We had pretty good seats. I soaked in all the traditions in a way I never had before. I screamed till my voice was gone. Jesse Palmer broke his collar bone, but it was a great win. I wasn’t really sure how to get tickets, but I knew I wanted to go to more games.

• GHS football

By now, you can see that many factors went into my transformation, but this is the one that Cristina blames the most. In 1997, during my first year teaching at Gainesville High School, I was approached by the head football coach. He asked me if I’d sign on to videotape all the games. I would technically be on the staff as an assistant coach, and I’d be compensated as such, but my duties would only involve taping every game (including JV) and making 3 or 4 dupes right after each game.

I did this job for about 4 years, and it happened to be a stretch of time when GHS was extremely good. These were the Clinton Portis, Ian Scott, Vernell Brown years. I was exposed to a side of football that I’d never been a part of before. I shot the games from up in the coaches’ box, where I was often side-by-side with the assistant coaches. For certain away games, I would sometimes be in the locker room before and after games. I saw players getting taped up, getting treated for injuries, sometimes even crying after tough losses. I heard the usually mild-mannered coach’s fiery pre-game speeches during the playoffs. And of course I witnessed lots of the camaraderie and fun that goes hand-in-hand with a winning program.

As the team videographer, my duties extended to making highlight tapes for team banquets, as well as for players to send to colleges. I made Clinton Portis’s college tape. When Vernell Brown was the quarterback, he’d come to my classroom every Monday after a game and get his own copy of the game to study. I saw these young men not as faceless players on a TV screen, but living, breathing, emotional young men doing amazing things on the field every week. My respect for them, and the game itself, grew a lot during those years.

And, of course, my passion for Gator football grew exponentially.

• Gainesville sports talk radio

This last point may seem insignificant, but it isn’t. When I started getting more and more interested in Gator football around 1997, I started tuning in to AM sports talk radio when I was in the car. I’d never been a fan of radio (music stations) in Gainesville, so I usually listened to NPR. But on Mondays after games, I would listen to the local sports pundits break down Saturday’s game. Before long, from August through February, I almost exclusively listened to sports talk radio. Eventually, it became my year-round, dominant, in-the-car-alone programming of choice. And in Gainesville, 90% of the sports talk radio is devoted to college football. Gainesville is a college football town, plain and simple, and people who listen and call in to these shows just don’t care much about baseball or hockey. In the spring, talk would drift a little to Gator basketball (and my love for that grew as well) but you could always hear some Gator football talk, 365 days a year.

When you listen to sports talk radio, you naturally become a bigger, more-informed fan. It gets you thinking about things you wouldn’t have thought about otherwise. It keeps you updated on injuries and how practice went. It allows you to memorize players’ names (and how to pronounce them). It gives you insight on opponents and what the perceptions of other teams around the country are. Then it’s a snowball effect. You get more knowledgeable from listening to the radio, so you have a broader interest in other teams and games. And the more other games you watch, the more you want to listen to the analysis in the radio. It’s a cycle that gets bigger and bigger. So when something happens like Appalachian State beating Michigan, I don’t need a TV commentator to tell me how huge that is. I know it because I know about the different college divisions, the national championships of a school like App State, and the tradition of a powerhouse program like Michigan. I can look at that score and be flooded with the deep implications that the score evokes. And then, even more, I enjoy listening to the pundits analyze the bigness of it all.

The cumulative effect of listening to more and more sports talk radio is that it pushed me from avid fan to complete college football nut.

I remember when my cousin Eddie and I first “came out” to each other that we were both diehard Gator fans. I was helping him move to a new apartment in Gainesville, and I had sports talk radio on in my car. I sort of sheepishly turned it off and explained that I mostly listen to that. He said enthusiastically that that’s all he listened to also. From there, our relationship blossomed with a newfound commonality. And to this day, we still chat and text each other on game days. When I got an extra Gator jersey when the team was here for the National Championship in January, I sent it to Eddie. When we move back to Gainesville, I look forward to going to some games with him, even if I need to drive down to Tampa to pick him up. He’s my cousin by blood, but he’s my Gator brother.

When I moved to Phoenix, one of the big disappointments was how the sports talk radio shows here spend so much time talking about the NFL, the NBA, and baseball. That kills me the most. I can handle some NFL and NBA talk (in fact, it’s made me a bit of a Phoenix Suns fan) but they’ll spend entire shows talking about major league baseball. My eyes gloss over and I usually change to NPR. My apologies to my baseball-loving readers, but the only thing more boring than watching a baseball game is listening to people talk about baseball.

Phoenix is a big sports market. I guess it’s comparable to Tampa, in that it has the big 4: professional football, baseball, basketball, and hockey teams. But as such, college football gets little airtime. And even then it’s mostly Arizona State and the PAC-10. Yawn.

So I guess that’s it. I didn’t mean for this to get so long, but now hopefully you understand how I got to be the way that I am. And even Cristina has accepted the fact that I am a college football junkie. She still wishes I wouldn’t watch so much TV on Saturdays, because it causes the kids to be rowdy and sometimes keeps us from doing things as a family. But she’s gotten more and more tolerant of it. I try not to give her a hard time about her Oprah, and she tries not to give me a hard time about my college football.

It’s kind of funny, but I probably know more about the Gators now than my father-in-law. He lives in Costa Rica now, so he’s even more out of the Gator nation loop than I am here in Phoenix. So that’s weird sometimes. I’m not saying I’m a bigger fan than him (he taught me the wonders of Wilbur Marshall after all) but I probably know more about the team right now. For example, does he know who Percy Harvin is? I’m sure he does. But does he know how to get Percy Harvin’s autograph? No! Heh heh.

And though I didn’t give it a bullet point, having children has probably added to my fanaticism. As soon as Sofia was a few years old, I had a great excuse to go to Fan Day and get autographs. When she was about 6, I took her to her first game at the Swamp. In 2003, we had reached a new milestone: the entire family went to a Gatopr game together. It’s only happened once. This was before Bella, of course. All 4 of us went to the UF/FAMU game. It was pretty cool. When we go back in ‘09, I hope all 5 of us can go to a game. Hopefully it will be Tebow’s senior year (fingers crossed).

And one observation I must acknowledge (though Cristina might deny it) I’m slowly converting Cristina. Evidence? She went crazy buying Gator gear this summer when we went to Gainesville. She agreed to getting our annual family portrait taken in Gator gear. And she probably knows more about Tim Tebow than she ever knew about Wuerffel, or Johnson, or Brindise, or Palmer, or Grossman, or Leak. She’s the one that talked me into sneaking into the trophy room at the stadium this summer, for God’s sake. I love that woman.

Enough. I could go on and on. How else to end a blog like this but with these two words:

Go Gators!

Time to change

Last week, we got a notice from our health insurance company that our premiums are going up $100 a month. The same week, we got a notice from the same health insurance company that some blood work Cristina had gotten done (to the tune of $600) was "under review" and we needed to give them some further information before they could process the claim further.

Meanwhile, we had received Michael Moore's Sicko in the mail and had yet to watch it. Last night, we finally watched it.

We need universal health care in the United States.

It is crazy, infuriating, and embarrassing what we deal with here in terms of health care. I knew it was bad, but the movie really brought it home. It's an excellent film, too. Accessible, very funny at times, and very moving. I hope everyone who reads my blog will do me the favor of at least renting the film.

There is a bill for universal health care that is gaining strength. Think about this: we've spent almost a trillion dollars on the war in Iraq. It will cost about 100 billion a year to give every American free health care. If we can spend the money to fight a war, we can spend the money to keep our citizens healthy. And it's so much more than just keeping healthy. Peoples' lives get destroyed by medical bills in this country. Some people can't get needed procedures because they can't afford them. People go bankrupt because they have accidents or illness. Our system is sick and inhumane.

See the movie. That's the least you can do. But if you are willing to do a little more, write your representatives and ask them to co-sponsor this bill, H.R. 676. Don't know who your representatives are? Well, then you're like most Americans (including me). But Michael Moore's website makes it very easy for us.

Click here to see who your representatives are and whether or not they already support H.R. 676. If you want to write them, there are links so that you can easily send each representative a note, either asking them to co-sponsor the bill or thanking them for supporting it.

And click here to fill out a simple petition that will be sent to your specific Senators and district Representative. There's a place to write a few comments, but even if you just send it blank, it will help.

Today, with the Internet, it is so easy to write your representatives. Remember the old days, when you had to find their addresses in the front of the phone book (assuming it was recent enough to still be valid) and then hand write or type your letter, and then address an envelope, put a stamp on it, and stick it in the mail? What is our excuse now for not writing? It costs nothing and can be done, literally, in less than 5 minutes. We're willing to spend hundreds of dollars a month for insurance premiums but not a few minutes to achieve something better?

Why do we put up with this crap?

Even in a great democracy such as ours, people are controlled by fear and hopelessness. That is exactly what our current health care system creates. Fear and demoralization keep people from voting, which is why we have such a low voter turn-out in supposedly the greatest democracy in the world.

And to the health care professionals in my family who may be reading this...please see the film. It does not denigrate your profession. In fact, it will hopefully make you just as fired up as I am.

I want a better system for my kids. I shouldn't have to plan a move to Costa Rica to seek medical treatment if a catastrophic illness happens in my family. We can do better.

Alex's School Photos

A few weeks ago, Alex had his school photos taken. He requested to wear a tie. Since he doesn't own a tie, I gave him one of mine. We don't buy school photos, since we're very good about getting professional portraits taken on our kids' birthdays. But the proofs were so cute, I had to scan them before returning them.

Sad Realization

The day I came back from Florida, Coco got out of the house, which is not unusual. He's always been an indoor/outdoor cat who loves being outside. We always brought him in at night, and only on rare occasions would he spend a night outside. In fact, he has never been gone longer than a day in all the 8 years we've had him. So after two days of not seeing him, we started to get worried. I put up "Lost Cat" fliers on the mailboxes, we talked to neighbors, we checked the pound. No sign. We drove through the neighborhood, looking for Coco, dead or alive. Nothing.

It's been 10 days now. And as sad as it is, we've kind of given up hope. It seems that Coco is gone.

We've lost several pets over the years. Our first two dogs died from getting hit by cars. Sofia's hermit crab died. But Coco had been our rock. He was our first family pet and we'd had him the longest. He was hitting middle-age, so we were starting to think about the fact that we would only have him another 8 years or so, at the most. This loss was certainly unexpected.

In a way, 10 days doesn't seem very long, like we shouldn't write him off yet. But he's never been gone this long, so my internal realist is telling me to let him go.

And I don't blame it entirely on getting a new dog. Sure, Coco didn't care for dogs, but he lived with Lily for about a year. And he was getting along pretty well with Vivien. One time I had Viv in my lap and Coco came up beside me to be petted. So I don't blame it on the dog.

Strange thing, none of us are too emotional about this, even though we loved that cat more than anything. I think because we don't know for sure what happened, the emotional impact is lessened. It's far more disturbing to find your pet dead in the road than to just have them mysteriously disappear.

It would be easy to blame ourselves: we shouldn't have let him go outside. But the way we see it, we gave him the best of both worlds. He loved being inside with us, and he loved enjoying the outdoors. Yes, maybe he would still be with us if we had never let him go out, but we know he's lived a far happier life for the past 8 years having it both ways. 8 years of blissful life are better than 16 years of cooped-up unhappiness.

Instead of assuming he's dead somewhere, I think I prefer to think of Coco as moving on, like when a kid leaves for college. Maybe he wanted to see the world. Maybe he found another life that gave him something we couldn't. But I'll always miss our big fat Coco, his big flabby boobies, his dog-like affection. He was my sole companion in the moving truck on our 3-day trek from Florida to Arizona, and didn't complain despite his disdain for riding in vehicles. He often slept on our bed, curled up in the crook of my arm on cold nights.

Yep. He was special. I doubt there will ever be another cat quite like him.

Family self-portrait, taken in bed one lazy Saturday morning

Home

Okay. Some of you have heard rumors of major life changes for us. Others may have just sensed that something was different. We’ve been keeping our plans mostly to ourselves, but I think we’re solid enough in our decisions now to go ahead and go public. So here’s the big announcement:

We’re moving back to Gainesville.

There’s no problem or emergency. No one is dying and we need to be close to them. I haven’t lost my job and I do actually like teaching here in Phoenix. So let me explain. It’s kind of a long story, so bear with me.

You may or may not remember the reason we moved to Phoenix. Cristina has been a stay-at-home mother for the past 11 years, and while she loves that job, she knows that our children will eventually grow up. She has had aspirations all along, interests she is passionate about, things she’d like to do professionally when the kids are all school age and she is ready to rejoin the school/career world. For many years her dream was to become a naturopathic doctor. There are only a handful of schools in the country that are accredited, highly reputable schools for naturopathic medicine. After researching the schools, she decided Southwest College of Naturopathic Medicine in Tempe, Arizona was the best fit for her. She started working on her pre-requisites in Gainesville…and then we unexpectedly got pregnant. All schooling went on standby. Then my parents needed to sell the house we were living in, so we decided to take the plunge and go ahead and move to Phoenix. It was a smart move. It gave us a few years to get settled, figure out the kids’ schools, and establish a network of friends before she started the program. Plus, teacher salaries are better out here, so we were able to buy our first house.

Isabella is now 3, and next year she will begin pre-school. During the past 3 years though, Cristina has had a lot of time to think about her future and, more specifically, the trade-offs that will naturally occur when starting up full-time rigorous school again. She’s been nervous, and at times a bit depressed, at the thought of what going back to school and then working full-time would do to our family dynamics. The schooling is intense, basically like medical school. There are even statistics on the high percentage of divorces that occur during naturopathic medical school. Scary stuff. It’s not that we think our marriage may not make it through 4 years of medical school, but the writing is on the wall: it’s a huge lifestyle change that can have positive or negative repercussions.

Those of you who have kids may be thinking, “Well, my wife works and our family is fine. Cristina shouldn’t be afraid of what-ifs.” I hear you, but it’s not so much about being scared, as it is a preference or priority thing. And I can relate to it, because I’ve lived it. Why have I been a teacher for going on 12 years, instead of doing something in the TV/film industry, which is where my passions were in college? It’s quite simple, actually. I stick with teaching because I love the hours and what that affords me with my family. Of course it helps that I actually enjoy teaching (most of the time). Cristina and I have often discussed whether there’s a different career path I would like to pursue, and every other thing that interests me requires such a significant sacrifice of time that I’m not willing to do it…yet. Nothing is set in stone, but while the kids are still so young, I like having, essentially, the same hours they do.

This summer, when we traveled all over the country, I think it really hit Cristina that her heart and soul belong in the east. As her desires for Southwest College have waned, her desire to move back east has gotten stronger. (I’m just glad she came to these decisions before we got into more major student loan debt, since Southwest College tuition is about 20K a year!) I don’t mind what she does as long as she’s happy. We’ve survived for 12 years on one teacher salary. We can just keep the status quo until she figures out what she wants to do. I’m fine with that.

A few weeks ago, when everything seemed to be coming to a head, we had a long, heartfelt chat and we came to the tentative decision that Cristina would not be going to Southwest College. Not in the immediate future anyway (never say never). We sat on it for a few weeks to see if, given time, that decision felt right or wrong. So far, it has felt right. Cristina says it’s like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. I must admit, I kind of feel that too.

There are some other natural healing things that Cristina is very interested in getting trained to do, which don’t require the same type of commitment and sacrifice that Southwest College does, so she’s in the process of exploring some other options. She’s currently slotted to do training next year in Jin Shin Jyutsu, which is an ancient energy therapy. Stay tuned.

With Southwest College out of the picture, there is no compelling reason to stay in Arizona. Alex goes to a Waldorf charter school here, which we would have to give up if we went somewhere else, but other than that...we're ready to go back east. We hadn’t really come to any decisions about where we might move. With the housing market temporarily on the decline, we knew we’d need to stay in Phoenix a few more years until we could sell our house for a better price. Plus, the kids are in great schools and we don’t want to pull them out immediately. Our old master plan was that after Cristina finished naturopathic school, we’d move to Chapel Hill, NC. We like that area, it’s a small college town (our favorite type of town), just a few hours drive from most of my family, plus Cristina has extended family in the Raleigh area. So the natural conclusion would be to move to Chapel Hill.

Then I went to Gainesville last weekend with Alex. And I guess I had a kind of epiphany.

It didn’t really start until Sunday. I went to see Jim Owens, a teacher friend of mine from GHS, and a real kindred spirit. I meant to just pop in for an hour and say hello, catch up, that sort of thing. Nearly 4 hours later, I finally left and suddenly had this strong voice inside me saying that maybe we should come back to Gainesville. It’s not like Jim did a sales job on me…he just answered some questions I had about things like retirement (whether my years in Arizona could be applied to my Florida retirement), and what’s been going on with the TV Production program at GHS (it’s practically dead). We talked about all kinds of stuff, and while we talked, we walked from his house down to a little gyro restaurant near campus. Maybe it was a combination of the beautiful fall day, and the walk through the heart of Gainesville and campus, and imagining the really strange concept of returning to GHS to rebuild my program… But the more I thought about things, the more excited I got. Every angle that would have been a deterrent to coming back seemed to have a silver lining. For example, there’s no Waldorf high school in Gainesville, and Sofia is at a really good academic/fine arts 6-12 charter school now. But… what if she went to GHS? They now have the Cambridge Program, which is a magnet like the IB program. She could do that, get an excellent prep for college, and also have access to some things that her current school doesn’t offer, like sports and art and…TV Production. And it would be awesome for her to take Jim’s Humanities class. The thought of her going to the school that I teach at is appealing too. As you all know, I have some experience in this area, having gone to a high school that my own dad taught at. It can be handy at times (riding together), and at the very least, comforting to know that a close family member is right there, everyday.

Monday morning, before Alex and I flew home, I went by GHS to see a mural that one of Jim’s students had painted on his classroom wall. It was also a good excuse to see him one more time and say hi to anyone else there that remembered me. I hung out in Jim’s class for about 30 minutes while he was teaching. Just observing his class made me long for those kinds of students. Attentive, hard-working, obviously from well-educated families. Like I said, I like teaching in Phoenix, but it can be tiring to teach inner-city kids from low-income, immigrant families. I’ve never really thought of it as all that hard to do, but the fact is I just don’t connect with them as well. I don’t share their lives or have much in common with them. It was different at GHS. The kids I taught there were more like me. And that can be comforting and comfortable, if that makes sense.

On a whim, I popped in to see the principal. It’s the same principal who was there when I left, so he knew me (even remembered my first name after 3 years, which is always a good sign). I don’t know why, but a briefly spilled some of my thoughts and things that we’ve been going through in our plans. And he said if we come back to Gainesville to give him a call. A great sign.

There have been a lot of changes at GHS, many for the worse, and I doubt I’d get a full-time TV Production program again. At least not at first. After my replacement ran the program into the ground, the administration scaled it back to one class. The guy who teaches Web Design, a friend of mine, has been kind of stuck with it, though it’s not his baby and he’d be more than happy to give it to someone else. I imagine that I’d teach English at GHS and maybe 1 class of TV Production. I’d be fine with that. Sunday night, I couldn’t sleep because I was thinking of ways to build the program back up. I’ve done it once, and I’m totally comfortable and confident in doing it again. All I need is money, and I’ve got some ideas already on how to get that. But I digress…

Of course, in coming back to Gainesville, I could apply to any high school. Buchholz is the “nice” school in town. But I still have a lot of friends at GHS, and it has special meaning for me. I taught there for 7 years, and they were the best, happiest years of my teaching career. I can’t imagine moving back to Gainesville and not teaching at GHS. It just wouldn’t feel right. And, oh yeah, Cristina graduated from there. How cool would it be for Sofia to graduate from the same high school her mother did?

For the first time in years, maybe ever, I feel like Gainesville is where I want to raise my kids and live indefinitely. I know I’m not that old, but I feel comfortable with the notion of buying a house there and just settling in, not on the lookout for where we might be in a few years. And though it may seem trivial, these thoughts occurred to me too: though I like Chapel Hill, and I’m from North Carolina…I don’t want to go to Tarheel football games. I want to go to Gator games! If I’m going to live in a little college town, I want Gainesville and all that goes with it! If we moved to Chapel Hill, I know part of me would always be longing for Gainesville. So why not just give in and move there to begin with. Those that really know me know that it’s a fact: I’m nuts for my alma mater.

I didn’t used to think I liked Florida that much. But living somewhere for 23 years, the most formative years of your life, has an effect. Yes, the humidity is unpleasant. The bugs are annoying. The pay is low and people drive too slow. But it’s home. And after living in Phoenix for 3½ years, I realize that more than ever.

I’ll miss being just 5 minutes from a major airport, that’s for sure. I’ll miss good old Trader Joe’s. And I’ll miss the cool, sunny, crisp winters here. I won’t miss the 115 degree summers. I won’t miss the blazing sun with no rain in sight for months. I crave those Florida summers where it thunderstorms every afternoon. I love the idea of being a 30-minute ride from tubing down the Ichetucknee River. I look forward to being just a day-long road trip away from my family again. After driving 7000 miles this past summer, the thought of driving from Gainesville to Asheville seems like nothing. Living across the country can give you some perspective like that. And I know I can speak for Cristina on this one: I miss trees. I haven’t said that too much during the past 3 years, because I knew it would only make it worse for Cristina, but I do miss trees and greenery.

There are always trade-offs when you move somewhere, but sometimes being away for a while helps you appreciate things even more. To recycle a cliché, if you love something set it free, and if it comes back to you it was meant to be…well, Gainesville set us free for a few years and I realize my love now. I’m ready to come back.

So that brings us to present day. Here's the plan so far. I’ll teach here at South Mountain for the rest of this school year and the next. We are tentatively planning to move back to Gainesville summer of 2009. That gives us about 18 months to pay off some debt and allow the housing market to rebound some (hopefully). Even if the value of our house doesn’t get to where we want it by then, there is the possibility of renting it out when we move and then selling it later.

We also need those 18 months to pay off some debt. I’ll be taking a significant pay cut to come back to Florida, so we need to trim our expenses back to a minimum.

With a summer 2009 move, Sofia would be about to start 8th grade, Alex would be ready for 3rd grade, and Isabella would be ready for Kindergarten. I’m not sure where Sofia would go for 8th grade (P.K. Yonge is always a possibility, and there are other charter schools we might explore) but no matter where we live in Gainesville, she could come to GHS for 9th because I’d be teaching there (thus, a zoning exception). Plus, since the Cambridge program is a magnet, she’d have a zoning exception for that too. Alex and Isabella could go to Expressions Learning Arts Academy, where Sofia went for Kindergarten and 1st grade. It’s a good school.

Cristina will get some experience practicing Jin Shin Jyutsu while out here and can hopefully take that experience into the Gainesville market. Jin Shin Jyutsu practitioners typically earn $60 to $120 an hour, depending on the market. That would help balance the lower teacher pay, for sure. So there it is. Those are the updated, earth-shattering changes that have been coming for a few months now. If you’ve actually stuck with this lengthy blog to the end, you are either really vested in our lives, or you are really bored! Whatever the case may be, you may now comment at will.

Toddler Dialing

Isabella has a habit of playing with my cell phone.  This morning I got this
email from Burt, in Florida:

at 7 am your time, i kept getting calls from your cell.  nobody talked
on the other end - but i was driving and ended up leaving the cell in
my car to work out.  there were several calls logged from your cell
with 3 voicemails with no data.  i ran it through a
full-voice-spectrum analysis and discovered a little mumbling from
someone identified in our databases as "Bella"....

haha - I've heard of drunk dialing - but never heard of toddler
dialing.  So I figured this was one of several possibilities:

1.  wayne has lost his voice and had Bella with him.  he was trying
morse code but could not remember the code quick enough for the
message.
2.  wayne fell asleep with the phone on his hip kept rolling over onto
the redial or send button and once he rolled over onto Bella.  This
made her mumble during one of the calls.
3.  Bella set her alarm to get up before everyone else so she could
jump on the cell and call a few friends.  strangely enough one of her
friends' numbers was similar to my number, and she kept getting it
wrong.
4.  Bella found your phone and was intrigued with the "send" button as
your call to me was the last one made before her early morning
shenanigans.

haha.  good stuff.  I am just glad the time swing comes this way and
not the other way!

Sorry bout that, Burt!  Too bad she didn't at least have a conversation
with you!

Weekend Close-Out

Sunday morning after breakfast, I went over to Jim Owen's house. Jim is a friend of mine from Gainesville High School, and really the only GHS person I've kept contact with since moving to Arizona.

I decided to leave Alex with his grandmother, since he would just get bored while Jim and I talked.

The plan was to chat with Jim and his wife Claude for about an hour, then return to Jarue's to run some errands. After about an hour of chatting with Jim, though, he suggested we walk up to a gyro restaurant and grab some lunch. It was such a nice, crisp fall day that a walk to campus sounded great, especially since we could chat and continue to catch up.

During our walk and lunch, we talked about all kinds of things...the reader's/writer's workshop that I've been teaching, changes in Gainesville, the people who are still around at GHS and in the district, our new dog, Cristina's plans, the kids' schooling...

By the time we got back to Jim's house, I realized that I'd been gone more than 3 hours. As I was getting on the bike to come home, my phone rang. It was Alex, wondering where I was. Jim had wanted to show me a mural on his classroom wall that a student had painted, but since time was short, we decided he'd send me a picture instead. I finally said goodbye to Jim and Claude...and then the bike wouldn't start. I had left the lights on and the battery was dead. Luckily, I was now a pro at jumping motorcycles. Jim had cables, I hooked it up to his truck, and it started in no time.

Back at Jarue's, Alex was ready to run errands. I had considered using Jarue's car, but Alex really wanted to ride on the motorcycle, so I agreed. Without a full-face helmet or a windshield, riding the bike for any significant distances is not the most comfortable ride for me. Anything over 35 mph and I'm squinting severely due to wind. Tears flow freely and my face gets all red. But I'll take one for the team.

My errands consisted of delivering DVDs of our summer pictures to 4 people. I had phone numbers for them, but only 2 of the 4 answered. We delivered those 2, and then went to the house of one of the others (Cristina had given me directions). Though they weren't home, I left the DVD on the wreath on the front door. Alex swinged on their swing a little bit, helmet still on. It looked funny, like an overprotective parent sending their kid to play with a helmet on, just in case.


Because I had unclear directions of where the 4th person lived, I gave up on them. We returned home.

Elena had requested that I cook something for them while I was there. I asked for requests, and she asked for quiche. I had made a shopping list for them, and when I returned, they were ready for me to cook. Elena could do some of the prep work, so she did a lot of the chopping and cooking while I was gone. Her boyfriend Jamie was there as well as her friend Leigh. We were going to play Scrabble while the quiche cooked.

Scrabble was fun. Though Alex can't read yet, he busied himself with tile distribution (he tried to help me cheat once by handpicking a letter I needed, but the others caught him) and he helped me with a few words. The quiche finished right around the time the game did. I think Jamie won.

The quiche was pretty good and I made 4 of them, so there was enough for everyone to eat their fill. My biggest complaint about ordering quiche at restaurants is that the portions are always so small, and quiche is not exactly a very filling entree. So I prefer to make a bunch of it at home and pig out. Elena made brownies, too, which were yummy.

The next day, Monday, was packing up and flying home day. After breakfast, though, I decided to run up to GHS to give Jim that last DVD that I hadn't been able to deliver. I hadn't planned on giving him one, but it seemed pointless to take one back home. Plus, he would probably enjoy it.

I got a visitor pass at the office (still a weird concept) and went to Jim's room. He was surprised to see me, but he was glad to be able to show me the mural, which was a spectacularly nude rendering of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden (Jim teaches Humanities). I asked if I could hang out for a little while and watch his class. They were wrapping up a documentary on Vietnam and then analyzing the lyrics to Springsteen's "Born in the USA" (which, when you really pay attention to the words, is not the patriotic-anthem-used-to-sell-bluejeans that you might think it is). He asked his class if any of them had me or knew me. Only one kid raised his hand and asked if I had been the golf coach (I had). I had coached his older brother. Pretty wild.

I gave Jim the DVD and said goodbye again. Before heading home, though, I wanted to see a few other GHS people. I popped in on Wiley Dixon, the principal, who was happy to see me. I chatted with Mary, the secretary, for a good while, as well as Ruby Baker (my old department chair) and Shari Shaw (the media specialist that had once taught TV Production there before I came). Finally, I headed home and packed.

Alex and "Wita"

Alex requested to play at a park, and knowing that we had about 10 hours of traveling ahead of us, it was a great idea. So we went to Westside Park for about 20 minutes. While there, I saw one of Cristina's old friends who had moved away but is now back in Gainesville. I got her contact info for Cristina.

We met Elena at Ward's Supermarket, because I wanted to get a couple of things to take home and on the plane. As if Gainesville wanted to make one last point that my connections there ran deep, I saw yet another former student of mine as she was getting into her parked car right beside ours. I couldn't remember her name, but she got out of her car when she saw me and we chatted.

Elena arrived late, so we had to get out of town quickly. I wanted Zaxby's one time before leaving, though, so I grabbed some from the drive-through and ate it while I was driving. It was delicious. No Zaxby's in Arizona.

I failed to do two things during this brief trip to Gainesville: get some Krispy Kreme doughnuts (the closest KK to us is Las Vegas...a 6 hour drive) and eat at Maui Teriyaki (a request my sister Mary had made). Oh well. Other than that, though, the trip was a complete success. I pretty much did everything I'd set out to do, and then some.

From the time I got on I-75 at 39th Ave. to the time I stopped at the departure gate was 1 hour 45 minutes. That's pretty good time, If I say so myself, and I didn't get a speeding ticket! Despite a long security line, we got to our gate with time to spare. I didn't know if this flight to Cincinnati was oversold, but just in case, I told the guy that if it was, we'd volunteer to get bumped. He looked relieved and asked "Are you the two heading to Phoenix? I've already been working on an alternate route for you." So instead of flying to Cincinnati and then Phoenix, we got 2 $200 travel vouchers, flew to Atlanta, and got to Phoenix only 30 minutes later than previously scheduled! A perfect bonus to the perfect weekend.

Game Day

The game started at 12:30, so we got up kind of early. I made a big breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon.

The bike started up just fine and we met Burt and Tyler at the Performing Arts Center parking lot. Then, my master parking plan went into action.


We all got into Burt's car, me driving, and drove up to the stadium. There, I dropped Burt and the boys off. While I waited in traffic, the team buses went by and I realized that we were going to miss the Gator Walk. The Gator Walk is a relatively new ritual where 2 hours before the game, fans make a big tunnel from the buses to the stadium entrance and all the players and coaches, dressed in ties and suits, walk through this gauntlet of praise, most with their game faces already firmly on. It's a chance for fans to see the players up close and a nice little motivation/adrenaline inducer for the players. The plan was to get to the stadium early enough to take part in this, but we just barely missed it.

I drove back to where the bike was parked and parked Burt's car. Then I hopped on the bike and rode back to the stadium, where motorcycle parking is a piece of cake. I parked right across the street from the stadium. We played a little football with a ball Burt had brought, then made our way into the stadium.

First we found our seats, and then walked down to the edge of the field where the team was warming up.

The boys had a great view about 20 feet from where the quarterbacks were warming up. As soon as the players went into the tunnel for the final pre-game prep, Alex and I went to the nearest concession stand and bought a couple of bottles of Gatorade. It was a perfect day temperature-wise, but a little hot in the sun, so we'd already worked up a bit of a thirst.

We said temporary goodbyes to Burt and Tyler, as their seats were a bit away from ours. We got settled in our seats a few minutes before kickoff. Alex was taking it all in: the band, the cheers, the short movie on the jumbotron that comes before the team runs out of the tunnel, and of course, the team running on to the announcer saying "Heeeeeeeeeeere come the Gators!" It had been 4 years since I had last been to a game, and I always get cold chills when they run out. It's hard not to, with the fevered pitch of 92,000 fans screaming full-force.


I had had mixed feelings about how the game might turn out. Our defense has looked so bad the past few games that I was mentally preparing myself for a possible (shudder-to-think) homecoming loss. But alas it was not in the cards. The defense looked reinvigorated with a new defensive tackle and the offense, our team strength, was clicking on all cylinders. Before long it was obviously going to be a blowout. Even though Vanderbilt is typically the SEC doormat, they almost always play us tough, and just 2 years ago they almost beat us in overtime.

Percy Harvin was a beast and actually set a school record as the first player ever to run for over 100 yards and have over 100 yards receiving.


During halftime, Alex requested nachos. When we lived in Gainesville, I would bring Sofia to games and she always got nachos. I think that was sometimes part of her motivation for going to the games...the nachos. So Alex followed suit nicely. Sofia would be proud.

What are the odds: I saw a girl at the game, sitting 2 or 3 rows in front of us, that had been my student at GHS. 92,000 people and I'm 10 feet from a former student. I couldn't remember her name (even though I had her more than 1 year...I'm getting old) so I couldn't call out to her to get her attention. She left the game a little early and passed right in front of me, so I tapped her on the shoulder and we said a quick hello. "I thought you were living out in..." I finished her sentence: "Arizona. Yeah, I am. Just came for the game." It was cool.

The game couldn't have been better. Exciting plays, no one got hurt, and a bigtime win for the Gators. After the game ended, we met Burt and Tyler. We had one more goal to accomplish before leaving campus.


I had previously read on a message board that you could hang out near the player exit after the game and talk to some of the players and get some autographs and photos. In anticipation of this, I brought a mini Gator helmet. Throughout the game, I had it attached to my belt, as no backpacks or bags were allowed in the stadium. It was a little cumbersome, but if we could meet the right players, it would be worth it. For any other players who we might want autographs, but not on the helmet, we bought a post-game score card. I had brought a Sharpie, too, so we were set.


We hung out by the players' scooters instead of with the small mob of fans near the exit. That way, once the players were through the crowd and getting to tehir scooters, Alex and Tyler could go to work. The boys were great. They weren't shy at all, and we even coached them up on nice things to say to the players like "good game" and if the player had a big ice pack taped to their shoulder or knee, they could say "hope you feel better soon."

The tricky thing about getting autographs is that it's often hard to know who the players are. When they're not in uniform with their name and number on their back, it can be anyone's guess who they are. I could recognize a handful of the guys that we saw, but many I had no idea. I've never liked the thought of asking a player who they are and then deciding whether you want their autograph or not. That's kind of rude. I'd rather have something like a poster or a score card that you can get everyone to sign and then sort out who all you got later.

I knew we wouldn't see Tim Tebow, since he's so popular that he gets secretly whisked off my security (the message board guy had clued me in to that). There are a very select few players that I would have sign my little helmet. Tim Tebow, Percy Harvin, Andre Caldwell... I figured Percy would be our best chance, since I knew that he rode a scooter. I prepped Alex. I told him that if I see Percy Harvin, I'll give Alex the helmet and he's to ask Percy to sign the helmet. Soon enough, I had a Percy sighting, and I gave Alex the helmet and had him go to work. Thankfully, Percy is an extremely nice guy and though he was held up by the masses taking pictures and getting autographs, he signed the boys scorecards...and my helmet. Victory.


Another highlight of the autograph session was seeing one of my former students, Curtis Carr, who is a walk-on defensive back. I chatted with him for a little while, mostly catching up on his brother, whom I had as a student for 3 or 4 years. I only had Curtis one year, but we chatted as if we were old friends. I made his highlight tape for college recruitment (his parents paid me).

Finally it was obvious that no more players were coming, so we headed back to the bike. Our grand total on the scorecards was 22 player autographs and 1 coach (offensive coordinator Dan Mullen).

I rode the bike back to the car, then brought the car to pick up the guys. Time for some post-game grub, and I had chicken wings on the brain. Funny thing, Burt and I had been out of touch with Gainesville to the point that we didn't know where the best place for wings was anymore. Burt liked Joe's Deli (closed) and he mentioned a place called Buffalo's that we used to go to that closed long ago, even before I moved to Phoenix. The only places I knew weren't in the general vicinity. So we cruised up Archer Rd., looking for something. The boys both needed to pee badly, so instead of picking a place quickly for the sake of a bathroom, we stopped at Target and everybody went potty.

We finally settled on Gainesville Ale House, though I'd never eaten there before. But places like that don't usually screw up chicken wings. It was packed, naturally, and we got on the wait-list for a 45-minute expected wait. The boys were going a bit crazy, so we drove to a McDonalds nearby and used their playground for about 30 minutes. Didn't even buy anything. Heh heh.

Dinner, like the rest of the day, was perfect. Burt and I split an order of 50 wings and they were as great as I could have hoped for. The boys had cheese pizzas and we all shared a basket of fries. Several other games were playing on the multitude of TVs there, so we got to follow a few other games while we ate.


It was getting late, and Burt and Tyler still had to drive back to Orlando. Back at the Performing Arts Center parking lot, we threw the football around a bit more and then said our goodbyes. It was a pretty extravagant treat to fly across the country for a game like this, and I don't know when we'll be able to do it again, but I hope this won't be the last time. It won't be.

The Perfect Weekend Begins

I've been back from Florida for 3 days now and I'm just getting around to blogging about it. It was a great weekend, and I've wanted to do it justice, so I've been slow as I caught up on work and sleep. But I guess I shouldn't put it off. As the Reduced Shakespeare Company says, "you don't have to do it justice, you just have to do it."

I'll start with Thursday. We got to Sky Harbor Airport right on time and got checked in. I had bought some Burger King for lunch and we ate that at our gate. It was awful. The only thing worse than fast food is cold fast food.

The plane ride was uneventful. Alex enjoyed the in-flight movie Hot Rod, and I tried (unsuccessfully) to sleep. The night before I had gone to see Transformers at the IMAX theater with my friend, Peter. So by the time I got home and finished packing, it was about 3:30 am. Alarm went off at 6.

We had a 2-hour layover in Atlanta and luckily there was a little playground near our gate. Alex could burn off some energy before re-boarding. It turned out our flight from Atlanta to Orlando was oversold. They were asking for volunteers to take a flight the next morning. I quickly calculated that if we flew in the morning we could still make it to the Homecoming parade, so I volunteered to give up our seats. They would give us a hotel voucher, meal vouchers, and two $400 travel vouchers. Sweet deal. Unfortunately it was not meant to be, because at the last minute they got us on our original flight. Oh well.

An integral part of our weekend plan involved using my brother-in-law's Harley to get around. I even brought Alex's helmet from home. Friday morning, I tried to start up the bike to no avail. Dead. I suspected that it was the battery, since Elena doesn't ride. She just starts it up now and then, so maybe it went too long in between starts. I wasn't sure if you could jump start a motorcycle the same way you can a car, and my mother-in-law has no Internet access. Meanwhile, it was almost parade time, so Elena drove us up to University Avenue and dropped us off. We hadn't eaten much breakfast, so I bought a couple of bagels at a bagel shop.

The parade was fun. Pretty much just like I remembered it. Dr. Cade, the inventor of Gatorade, rode in a Gatorade-colored old car (see pic). One of the quirky highlights was seeing a guy on one of the floats that looked like Dom's brother, Nick. I snapped a picture really quick and then called Dom to confirm. Sure enough, Nick works for a radio station in Gainesville and was on the float. Small freakin' world.

After the parade, we called Elena and she picked us up. It was time to get the motorcycle running, because I definitely needed it for Gator Growl. I called Cristina and she looked up "jump starting a motorcycle" on the Internet. Elena and I tried unsuccessfully to push start it, and when that didn't work, we hooked it up to the truck battery. The key to jumping a motorcycle from a car is that you don't start up the car. It took a little while, but finally the bike started up and we were in business.

Jarue warmed up some North Carolina barbecue for an early dinner and then we got dressed for Gator Growl.

I had tried to explain Gator Growl to Alex ahead of time. He had heard "fireworks" and "laser show" and was pretty much content with those expectations. When it kicked off with 3 parachutists landing on the field, that really set the tone. Alex was attentive throughout all the skits and presentations. The comedian, Frank Caliendo, was actually really talented and funny. Even Alex was laughing at his impersonations. When it came time for the grand finale, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Alex was a full blown Gator Growl professional. Afterwards, though, he asked me where the lasers were. I guess laser shows haven't stood the test of time. So 90's.

On the motorcycle ride home, Alex did the Gator chomp to any and all people who we passed. It was about 11 pm by the time we got home, so we crashed pretty quickly. Tomorrow would be a big day. The game.

Alex waving my cell phone (like a lighter) during Free Bird

Trick or Treat

Don't have much time to blog, as I'm packing for Florida. But I thought I'd throw on a couple of photos from tonight's activities.

Like father like son.

We trick or treated with our friends, Lindsay and Wesley Hand. Hey, Alex! Stay in character, son!

I look really threatening with that IKEA bag in my hand, don't I?