People Watching in Amsterdam

I found out on Friday that I had to leave again for Scotland on Tuesday. Giving me only four days notice was pretty crappy on my boss’s part. Unfortunately as the only non family member of this family owned business this is my lot in life. I had no choice but to go.

So here I am typing this post from the Amsterdam international Airport. The official name of this place s is Schi-something, but I can’t remember. Give me a break on that one. I am working on about two hours sleep.

As I am sitting here drinking an espresso and watching the unbelievably diverse mass of humanity pass me by, I am reminded of a Cheers episode. Yes I am reminded of TV at all times, even in Amsterdam, the Netherlands...er…Holland…er…the Dutch. These people need to make up their mind.

In this particular episode Woody leaves the bar for a week’s vacation. When he returns everyone in the bar asks him about his exotic destination. Woody replies that he didn’t go. He missed his flight. Of course everyone then asked where he had been for the past week. Woody spent the week at the airport and had the greatest vacation of his life. He met people from all around the world. It was amazing.

Of course nobody I have ever met is quite as simple as Woody. I don’t think anyone would actually do what Woody did in this instance anymore than they would repeat any of his other shenanigans. There is, however, some truth to Woody’s view of the airport. There is really no other place that you can see people from so many walks of life all in one place.

While Woody’s adventure took place at Boston Logan I am going to advise a few other places that might be better for people watching. I think a two of the best might be Paris Charles de Gaulle and where I am sitting right now. I am not sure I have ever seen such diversity as I am seeing here in Holland. This airport in Amsterdam is the gateway to Europe, Asia, and Africa. There are people from all corners of the globe.

I am not typically a people watcher, but when you have two hours to kill without a book to read you resort to other tactics. If you add in the sleep deprivation this becomes quite a fun game. You can imagine all sorts of adventures for your fellow travelers when your mind isn’t functioning properly.

I guess my point is that if you are ever really bored and broke, go down to your local airport and meet some interesting people. Otherwise try not to ever get stuck in a sleep deprived layover in some foreign land. If you do then you might post something as insane as this.

Proud of Our Southern Heritage

Being in Europe is always interesting for anyone who enjoys history. My recent trip to Scotland was no different. You can find buildings and castles that have been around longer than the United States at every corner. It is fascinating to learn about the history that these people share as countries or ethnicities. In Scotland I visited Stirling Castle shown below. The Scots have been fighting the English on this very site for centuries.

The Scottish people are proud of their heritage. They fought very hard to keep their way of life in tact against constant onslaught. After hearing about much of their history and seeing the pride in my new Scottish friends eyes, I began to think about my heritage. I, like many Americans, am a blend of many different backgrounds. Much of our family history has been lost along the way. I don't really know my roots other than the southern ones.

I found many similarities among the Scottish people and us folks from the Southern United States. The English look down on the Scottish because of the way they talk. They are considered less educated because of their accents. It may surprise many of my readers from up north, but we Arkansans along with many other southerners experience the same thing. Our accents while sometimes considered entertaining are almost always considered a sign of low intelligence. When Arica moved to Missouri in high school she was constantly ridiculed for the way she talked. She eventually changed her dialect because of the constant pestering. She is of course proud of her Southern heritage, but what teenager wants to be ridiculed every day. That is what it can be like for Arkansans sometimes. For all those that look down upon us I want to let you know that we don't all marry our cousins, and some of us even have shoes.

There are plenty of Arkansas that speak a neutral dialect that could blend in easily in most regions of our country. I am not one of those people. I have a fairly thick southern drawl. I like it that way. I am proud of my roots. I have lived every day of my life in Arkansas, and I hope to always stay. I am proud that I fit most of the country stereotypes like owning guns and driving a four wheel drive. I hope Braden will always be proud of his home state and rural upbringing as well.

Braden will be growing up in a city rather than the country. Of course in Arkansas the country is never far away. I want him to learn about life in Arkansas. I want him to be a country boy like his grandpas and like me. I hope to teach him that you should always be proud of where you came from because that is part of who you are. While my heritage isn't as rich and lustrous as the Highlanders, it is still something to preserve. For that reason I will be handing down all my favorite country sayings to Braden. I will also be teaching him to hunt, fish, and clean his kills.

Of course I can't leave out what is probably the most important thing about being an Arkansan. As soon as Braden can talk I will start teaching him how to call the Hogs. Wooooooo Pig Sooie!

Stand Up Baby

Braden is so active that it only stands to reason that he will start walking as soon as possible. He walks around all the furniture while holding on. He walks along doors or walls or anything that he can use to keep himself upright.

Recently Arica and I have been holding his hands while he walks around the living room. He does this really well. At least he does well until he decides he would rather sit down. Sometimes we only hold on to one of his hands. He can walk that way too although it is a little tougher for him. He also lunges from the furniture to either Arica or me. He can take one or two steps during this move as well.

Today at lunch I was sitting on the floor with Braden. He crawled over to me and put his hands on my legs. He was propped up there looking at me. Then all of a sudden he just stood up. He was standing on his own two feet without holding on for several seconds. Arica and I looked at each other in disbelief as if Braden had just sprouted wings.

So now we know that he can stand if he wants too. Walking is the next step. Pun intended.

Bowling with Dad

"If horse racing is the sport of kings then surely bowling is....a very good sport also."

- Homer Simpson

I have to agree with Homer on this one. Bowling is a very good sport. It is unfortunate that it has achieved a reputation as the sport for fat beer swilling losers. I am thankful in some ways for the marketing genius that came up with glow bowling or disco bowling or whatever they call it in your town. You know how they turn the lights out, turn the black lights on, and pump up the music. Apparently these actions can turn a musty old bowling alley into teenage heaven. While this is terribly annoying if you are actually in the bowling alley, it has surely helped save the sport. Now at least it will be around long enough for me to take Braden out to the lanes.

Bowling has always been a part of my life. When I was a small child my Dad was a bowling machine. I remember sometimes going to the bowling lanes on league nights with him and my mom. The thing I remember most is getting Milky Way candy bars from the vending machine. I also remember one summer trip to St. Louis when my Dad and I spent the entire day at a bowling alley. We were killing time until the Cardinals game later that night, but I remember many details of the day bowling rather than the game. I can even tell you that I bowled a 156 one game and the name of the place was DuBowl Lanes. I think it is safe to say that I have always liked bowling.

Believe it or not bowling has played an even a bigger role than that in my life. After dinner on our very first date Arica and I went bowling. Obviously it went well. It was probably the view she had of me shuffling down the lane and hurling that big heavy ball that sealed the deal. After that we went on to marriage and a child. I wouldn't even be writing this blog about being a new dad without bowling.

Of course I can't wait to teach Braden how to roll a strike. I am sure at first he will use the bumpers, but just until he gets the hang of it. With such bowling genes in his blood he definitely won't need them for long.

Bowling is one of those beer drinking manly sports that I will always love. The list of bowlers who have inspired me is quite impressive. I hope to add mine and Braden's names to this list as well soon. It will be my Mt. Rushmore of Bowling...with an extra head.

My Dad, Al Bundy, Homer Simpson, Me, and Braden.

Depending on Dad

Monday night I gave Braden a bath. Bath time is always fun because it is one of his favorite times. I sat happily on the cold tile floor watching him play. It was one of those occasions when you are completely filled with amazement as you cherish time with your child. Braden's joyous smile lit up my world like a thousand suns at that very moment.

Then terror struck me like a punch to the gut. This beautiful little boy with the entire world in front of him is depending on me. One day he will grow up to be a functioning member of society. How well he is adjusted depends on his parents. Whether he is a good person, a nice person, a successful person, or the complete opposite of all those things is up to us.

I am barely capable of functioning on my own at the age of 31. Just last week I went to the airport to pick up my truck and forgot to bring the keys. Yes you read that correctly. I drove one hour, turned in my rental car, picked up my luggage, and went to get my truck without the keys to the vehicle I was planning to drive home. Then Arica and I had to wait another hour for someone to pick us up. Now does that sound like someone that has any business raising a child.

It's times like these that I am thankful for Arica.