Walden

Henry David Thoreau is best known for a two-year experiment in simple living, which he began on July 4, 1845, when he moved to a tiny house that he built himself, on land owned by Ralph Waldo Emerson in a second-growth forest around the shores of Walden Pond. The house was not in the wilderness but at the edge of town, 1.5 miles from his family home.

Contrary to popular belief and also contrary to Thoreau’s portrayal of his time at Walden, Thoreau was not really very self reliant at all. He frequently went into town for supplies, to have his laundry done by his aunt, and to go drinking with the boys. On one trip into town, he ran into the local tax collector who asked him to pay six years of delinquent poll taxes. Thoreau refused citing his opposition to the Mexican-American War and slavery, and he spent a night in jail because of this refusal. Thoreau was freed the next day, over his loud protests, when his aunt paid his delinquent taxes. His later essay on this experience and his reasons for taking this stand, Civil Disobedience, influenced such political theorists and activists as Leo Tolstoy, Mohandas Gandhi, and Martin Luther King, Jr.

I suspect that old Henry was simply a run-of-the-mill, garden variety deadbeat; however, this may be because of the grudge that I still hold against him for being forced to plod through his books and essays by a high school English teacher of mine who was infatuated by his beard. Walden compresses the two years, two months and two days time that Thoreau spent there into a single calendar year, using the passage of four seasons to symbolize human development. Part memoir and part spiritual quest, it explores natural simplicity, harmony, and beauty as models for socially and culturally just living conditions. Although not nearly as dry as Emerson’s work, I found Walden to be a bit too holier-than-thou to swallow, containing a long string of self-evident truths that obviously even a tightwad like Thoreau could notice. Thank you Captain Obvious.

Walden Pond itself is another story altogether. I cannot fault Thoreau for his taste in this regard (even if he chose it as a matter of convenience). It is a completely beautiful environment – quite possibly the most perfect pond (a small lake really) I have ever seen. When I lived in Boston, especially during the time I lived in Waltham, this is where I came on hot days to swim in the ever-cool waters. I came here on cold days to walk the trail around the pond and reflect. It is always peaceful here and for me it is a natural place of meditation, still isolated from the outside world by a simple quirk of topography. I still come here whenever I can.

Today we went to the L.L. Bean store, had a nice lunch at a bistro while watching the Patriots beat-up on Tennessee, then drove to Walden Pond. I only wish we could have stayed longer. It is the eve of a new year and as I write Alison is making butternut squash soup. Soon our friend Jared will come over with his mother’s secret potato pancake recipe, which will be our project for the evening and will complete our celebratory feast, which we will eat while watching the foolishness back home in Times Square via the safety of television – good friends, good food and great hopes for the new year. Peace always.

Old Friends

This weekend I am in Boston (Winthrop actually) visiting my oldest friends Jon and Allison. I rode the bus up from New York yesterday - a trip that while rather speedy, was largely uneventful. Jon met me at South Station and we grabbed some lunch in Boston just a block or so off the Boston Common. We rode the "T" back to Winthrop, where we collected their dog Bucklee (my Labradorian friend who is always glad to see Uncle Mark) from grandma and grandpa's house, then headed home to flop on the couch, watch some movies and catch up. Last night we ordered pizza because it was the easiest thing to do, and went to bed early. When I visit here, I sleep on the couch with Bucklee. It is much colder here than in New York, especially because people pay for their own heat, so having an 80 pound dog to cuddle with is a great way to keep warm at night. Unfortunately, this dog snores a bit, but I was able to get a decent sleep anyway.

We have no big plans for the weekend, which is the way we generally like it. We will probably go for some walks along the beach, do some errands and just hang out. Tonight we are planning to go out to dinner and then go see our old friend Scott and his wife Laurell who have a brand new baby girl. Sunday we are planning to go to Walden Pond, which is one of my favorite places in the whole world. I plan to take some pictures and reflect - a lot has transpired in my life since the last time I was there, and I'm sure I will have a lot more to say on that.

Nothing Doing

Today is one of those rare days that I have almost nothing of any consequence on my mind – I consider this a good thing. I have had a nice email chat with my friend Jon about my impending visit to Boston and basically run out of things to distract myself with, so I may actually buckle-down and do some of the paperwork that I’ve been carefully avoiding for the past three days. I am looking forward to going to P.A.X. this evening at 6:45 which is a men’s group that I rarely get to attend anymore (normally I teach late on Tuesdays and Thursdays) and has the added virtue of being Nathan’s home-group.

I stopped by Nathan’s place yesterday on my way home from work to do some more work with him. We figure three more sessions should allow me to finish what I started with him over a year ago. This is kind of a big deal for me, as historically I am great at beginning things (always with the best of intentions) but not so good at the follow-through. As usual, I needed a deadline and his impending move to Australia has provided a significant one.

This evening I will start and complete my packing for the weekend and try to get some sleep – I plan to get a 5am start tomorrow, which will be a travel day. As I said, not much going on today, just missing the little ones and hoping they are well and are having some fun.

Leave the driving…

I’m standing in line to buy bus tickets at the Greyhound/Peter Pan kiosk at the New York City Port Authority on 42nd Street. My annoyance factor has reached that certain critical level that requires me to decompress by putting pen to paper. I have stopped here on my way home from work, hoping to save $19 by buying my tickets three days in advance. My fellow travelers (would-be and otherwise) are not exactly what you would see in the first-class section of a major airline, then again, neither am I. I am a minority here, but I work in Harlem so I am used to this, and have even come to almost enjoy the “uniqueness” that it affords me.

Bus stations are the bottom-feeders in the pond that is composed of mass-transit hubs: one does not stick to the floor at most major airports (or even minor ones). This floor is kind of like those found inside the low budget 24-hour porno-movie houses, like the ones that used to be plentiful only a block or two away from here. There has been a halfhearted attempt made at creating some sort of ambiance – travel posters line the walls showing exotic destinations, well at least those reachable by bus: Detroit, Miami, and exotic L. A. (only a five day ride). Ancient cathode ray tube monitors (most of them work) display arrivals and departures in a faded amber glow. It is a sad and childlike imitation of big-brother airports – no one pays any attention to them anyway, as the busses leave on the hour and missing one means only that you grab a Snickers and stand in line for the next.

Most of the ambiance takes the form of cracked, backlit, injection-molded, plastic signs with duct tape accents. A network of blue plasticized ropes forms the rat maze that the 60 or so travelers and myself herd through, on our glacial way to the ticket counter. Tempers are short.
“I’m speaking English!” one of the clerks snaps, “What else do you want!?!” She is shouting at a small Asian woman of indeterminate age, who looks far too well dressed to be traveling by motor coach. “You don’t even have a passport?… Any I.D. at all?!!” The clerk seems to have had it, but the woman produces some card and the clerk shoves a ticket at her and waves her away, as if shooing a mosquito, mumbling something about “those people” that even I, with a fairly solid grasp of English, find unintelligible. But it is OK – the Asian woman with the nice clothes and expensive looking luggage has secured a number, and even without knowing the language and even though this place was designed and laid out by the insane, she is determined and she will find her bus.

As with any type of travel, there is an air of excitement here, of possibility, and I can sense this in my fellow travelers. It brings out some surprisingly bad behavior. The ticket clerks show an almost super-human patience, an otherworldly detachment in the midst of the chaos. I turn away for a moment. In the main atrium of this part of the station, a few carts peddle products from China – the kind nobody will miss if they are stolen. Bagels, soda and stale sandwiches can be had for a price. A security officer armed with only the Daily News loiters nearby. At last it is my turn and a smiling “Sarah,” as her nametag reads, thanks me for choosing Greyhound. Oozing courtesy in gratitude that I do not have this job and can leave now, I complete my transaction (roundtrip to Boston for New Years, for $49) and I head back to the "A” train and the long ride to Brooklyn.

Christmas-Time Monkeyshines

Daddy must have been a pretty good boy this year because Santa brought him not only one, but two special visits from his favorite little ones. The first of these came this past Saturday, which lasted from 10:30 or 11 in the morning until 5pm. The second visit was Christmas Day from 10am to almost 2pm – and they both were AWSOME! We played, danced, sang songs opened some presents, rode around on Daddy’s back, read some books, watched some shows, ate some yummy lunch, took a long hot bath, colored on our new easel, snacked and played some more! There is so much to tell that I won't even try, but I'll try to hit some of the highlights.

Daddy took the day off on Friday and did what has become the annual Christmas Toys-R'-Us run, which is one of my favorite things in the world to do (I also enjoyed it, knowing that in another couple of years it will be Best Buy that I will be going to, and that those high-tech goodies preferred by teenage monkeys will cost quite a bit more). I was on a mission to get an easel for creating beautiful and priceless works of art, some dolls (a step above Fischer Price little people, but also a step below Barbi - Miranda is advancing at a staggering pace), and a Marble Mania Extreme set for Zach. I stuck to my plan and to my budget and had a fun and successful trip.

We opened a few presents on Saturday, chief among these was our new art easel that Santa had brought. We also opened a beautiful photo album (with family photos already inside) and a combination music book/keyboard, both from Nancy Elman (much thanks!). We also opened two really cool books from Uncle Warren and Aunt Leslie, as well as a really cool Crayola invisible ink coloring set form Uncle Jim and Aunt Lauren (much thanks as well!!). Miranda set right to work at the easel and produced the first of what will no doubt be many masterpieces.

There were lots of games to be played, and we played them all. Miranda rediscovered the tub toys (which led to another installment of bath-time (Miranda likes to drink the bathwater and has to be discouraged from doing so - Zach used to do this too. Daddy likes bath-time, not only because it is very sweet, but also because it gives him a chance to sit down. After bath-time, Miranda decided to play a little dress-up. She found that it takes a lot more than just an attitude to fill Daddy's shoes, but she looked very cute trying to stomp around the apartment in size 10 and 1/2 Timberland boots (aka: shit-kickers).


On Monday (Christmas Day) we opened our special presents: Miranda got four sets of big-girl dolls, with a kitchen set and a living room set. Zach got his pre-assembled Marble Mania Extreme toy (the pre-assembly required four uninterrupted hours the night before, as Daddy put together over 350 parts and followed 47 pages of instructions - amazingly, it actually worked). Both the dolls and the marble thing were hugely successful presents, and both kids were really excited and were good about sharing their special toys with each other, which made Daddy very proud and made Zach and Miranda much more likely to receive gifts like these in the future. Miranda did kind of horde the marbles from Zachy's toy, but Zach was able to make do with a few less and enjoyed himself immensely. (note to self: buy a bag of marbles)

We played pretty hard, so some refreshments and well deserved rest were definitely in the offing, so we had a light lunch and cuddled-up for some leisure time. Daddy's little monkeys were due to travel to Pennsylvania later in the day, so Mommy came by to collect them in the early afternoon. When all was said and done, however, Daddy decided that this was the best Christmas ever! Stay tuned for our next thrill-packed episode: New Years Monkeyshines.

Forty: the new 30?

I keep hearing it said that forty is the new thirty, and I am considering this proposition. There is a word in the Old Testament that comes to mind. This word is “Selah” and its use is similar to “Amen” in that it stresses the significance of what precedes it, however, it is generally taken to mean that one should pause and reflect on what has been said. Although it occurs seventy-one times in thirty-nine of the Psalms, and three times in Habakkuk, the etymology and precise meaning of the word remain unknown. When I hear or read absurdities like “forty is the new thirty” it is time for me to Selah – to pause and reflect.

Having dismissed my class for the holiday break, and having very little ambition to do any further “real work” today, I decided that a search for the identity of the pinhead that coined this phrase might illuminate matters. Like many such slogans, nailing down the exact source was not easy, but I was able to trace it back to a 2005 Reuters article. The article was written about a research study conducted by Warren C. Sanderson of the University of New York in Stony Brook and Sergei Scherbov of the Vienna Institute of Demography at the Austrian Academy of Sciences. This was a scholarly demographic study published in Nature. The researchers found that life expectancies in many industrialized nations were increasing at a rate equal to or greater than the corresponding median ages of the populations of these countries. They argued that this explained the phenomenon of aging populations that seem to be getting younger (at least in terms of their behavior). Selah.

Whoever spun this bit of statistical masturbation into “forty is the new thirty” may never be known (at least by me) but I find it highly unlikely that they were in their forties. Consider the following self-observations: My idea of a really wild night these days is mixing a little regular in with my decaf. I hiss when cellular phones go off in public venues. I punch the person who says, "Denial isn't just a river in Africa, you know" and laugh when anyone uses the word "closure" in a purportedly emotionally insightful manner. I’m temperamentally incapable of using the following phrases: "Oh – My – God!"; "And I'm like ..."; "And she's all ..."; "Whatever!” But, oddly, not "Well, duh." I know harmless office flirting may not be so harmless. I don't want to end up a dirty old man. I know that texting has passed me by. When I stand and stretch in the morning my joints sound like a Chinese New Year celebration. I am less certain of things than I used to be. I think younger people who wear hooded sweatshirts with the hood up look stupid and sinister. I cross the street to avoid them. When in the bathroom, I spend more time sitting on porcelain than standing at the mirror. That time at the mirror is spent worrying about too much hair where it shouldn’t be and not enough where it should. I find solace in birdsong. None of the aforementioned was true when I was thirty. Selah.

Forty: the new 30? I think I would say, rather that forty doesn’t suck the way I thought it might, when I was thirty. Just as thirty turned out not to suck nearly as much as I thought it would when I was twenty-one; In fact, thirty turned out not to suck at all. The chief difference, as far as I can tell, lies in the physical toll that four-plus decades of fast living has taken on a body that was really only designed by nature to reach the age of thirty-five. On the whole, however, it is a good exchange as the experience and wisdom that I’ve gained far offset the aches and pains that I’ve accumulated. How we perceive these changes is a choice that we each must make for ourselves. Is the proverbial glass half-empty?

"As I give thought to the matter, I find four causes for the apparent misery of old age: first, it withdraws us from active accomplishments; second, it renders the body less powerful; third, it deprives us of almost all forms of enjoyment; fourth, it stands not far from death." Cicero.

Or is it half-full?

"People like you and I, though mortal of course like everyone else, do not grow old no matter how long we live...[We] never cease to stand like curious children before the great mystery into which we were born." Albert Einstein.

Selah.

Drug Sniffing Humans?

I saw this one in my daily scan of the science journals that I keep tabs on and thought to myself, "wow, those people at University of California, Berkeley sure have a lot of time on their hands!" I also wondered how well this experiment would have worked if it were conducted in the 125th Street New York City Subway station, or perhaps inside a subway car filled with homeless people, winos and drug addicts who haven't bathed or changed underwear in several years? Maybe they should try it over in Elizabeth, NJ, which is one of the stinkiest places I know of? I am frequently grateful, living where I do, that my sense of smell is as limited as it is. Enjoy the article!

Human Scent Tracking Nothing to Sniff At

ScienceNOW Daily News
18 December 2006
A surprising new study suggests that people can track a scent across a grassy field--at least if they're willing to get down on their hands and knees and put their noses to the ground. The findings are unlikely to put hunting hounds and drug sniffing dogs out of work, but they may earn a little respect for the poorly regarded human sense of smell.

Humans are widely believed to be poor at tracking scents, especially when compared to other mammals such as dogs and rodents. But few had ever put that idea to the test. A research team led by Jess Porter and Noam Sobel at the University of California, Berkeley, dipped 10 meters of twine in chocolate essence and laid it in a field to form two straight lines connected at a 135° angle. Then they blindfolded 32 undergraduate students and had them don earmuffs, thick gloves and kneepads to prevent them from using sensory cues other than smell. When set loose in the field, two-thirds of the subjects successfully followed the scent, zigzagging back and forth across the path like a dog tracking a pheasant, the researchers report online 17 December in Nature Neuroscience.

Nearly all the subjects reported that the task was challenging, Porter says, but four of them got a chance to improve with practice. Over the course of several days, they learned to follow the trail faster and deviate less. Even so, their performance remained well below what other researchers have reported in dogs. Additional experiments with noseplugs suggested that people use two strategies to localize smells: comparing the odor intensity between subsequent sniffs and comparing the odor intensity at the two nostrils during single sniffs.

"This is an innovative approach to teasing out what olfactory abilities humans actually have," says Gordon Shepherd, a neuroscientist at Yale University. It's assumed that after our primate ancestors started walking on two legs, their sense of smell became less acute, Shepherd says. The relatively small repertoire of olfactory receptor genes in primates compared to animals that kept their noses closer to the ground seems to support this notion. However, Shepherd says, the new study suggests that "if we go back on our four legs and get down on the ground, we may be able do things we had no idea we could do."

"Smell is a potent wizard that transports you across thousands of miles and all the years you have lived. "
Helen Keller

"Fish and visitors smell in three days."
Benjamin Franklin

No Time

Today is a very busy day. I am teaching two classes (math and writing) this morning and covering a class for a colleague who is on vacation. I will be leaving the office at 1:30, then heading down to the Fortune Society on 23rd Street in Midtown Manhattan for a meeting of the New York Math Exchange Group (MEG), where I will be presenting a problem that I have created, and giving a talk on problem-posing. My presentation will last from 3pm to 5pm, then I will be off and running again to take care of some errands (banking, pharmacy, and dry cleaning) before arriving home for a quick change of clothes (too bad there are no phone booths anymore). After donning my play clothes, I am being picked up by a friend (or two?) and being driven to Fort Tilden, which I understand is somewhere in the Rockaways (the southern most part of Queens, that sticks out into the Atlantic Ocean). There, I will be delivering a talk on taking a "searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves," which will last from 7:30pm until 8:30pm. At some point this evening I hope to eat, but that may not happen until I get home around 9:30 or 10pm. It's all good stuff, but it is a very full day.

Growing Pains

Spiritual growth is a provocative and compelling phenomenon. Most often, it is conceived in chaos and difficulty, gestates in anxiety and strife, and is birthed in pain. The last are those singular moments of revelation, discovery and transformation, and occasionally of epiphany. Usually, this process is ponderous, happening at a rate that is well below the threshold of human perception. It is analogous to the growth of a tree: after a year or perhaps several, it is apparent that a given tree has grown. We know this because we are able to remember a time when the tree was much smaller than it is now, and engage in reflective comparison. If, however, one tries to observe this growth as it occurs, it will soon become thoroughly evident that human senses are not geared for the task. These processes, common to most aspects of nature, take place according to God's time, which is altogether different in its span, scope and perhaps direction(s) than our own.

Occasionally, circumstances, that The Bard termed "outrageous fortune," arise that precipitate this process on a massively compressed timeframe. In these instances, God's time folds into ours, making years seem as days or minutes, and days become as seconds. It is during these occasions that the spiritual sapling can actually be seen growing into a sturdy tree; the growth is perceptible. The last five months have been a period of outrageous fortune in my life, and therefore of colossal spiritual growth - growth that I can actually feel happening. This feeling was at first frightening, then dizzying, then stupefying and bewildering. It has lately come to be a terrible, miraculous and amazing feeling – a rush if you will, only so much better. Words fail me as I try to describe this, and I am certain that I have failed utterly to convey the intensity of the experience. As I write this, I am in awe.

A little more than a year ago, I listened to a CD with a friend of mine, who is on a similar path. It was a recording of a talk given by someone sharing his experience, strength and hope with an audience in Iceland. I was spellbound by the lama-like serenity this man had apparently achieved. I was talking with my friend Tony about it in the larger context of spirituality not long after, as I learned that he knew the gentleman on the CD. He described this man as a “spiritual warrior.” When I inquired as to what that meant, he told me that these are people who not only embrace change, but even seek out change in order to continue to grow. Being someone who has always been averse to change, I could not imagine going out and, well, looking for trouble as I saw it. I have recently come to understand how this could be, and the feeling of peace that I have now is one that I want to continue to live.

It would be nice if the process were a bit easier, but that also does not seem to be the way the universe works. I have some truly great teachers in my life now and a lot of people who love me and support me. My job now is to remain teachable, to remain worthy of that love, and to improve my conscious contact with the universe so that I may help others get what I have. Much thanks, peace and love to all!

Family-Time Monkeyshines

This past Saturday was witness to a very special edition of Monkeyshines. What made this visit so special was the presence of two very special guests: Grandpa Monty and Grandma Fredi. Daddy's parents made the long drive from Pittsburgh for the sole purpose of seeing their long-lost grandchildren, before heading off to Florida for the winter. It was well worth the trip!

The weekend started out with the addition of a Christmas tree to the House of Miller. Daddy stopped off at the Korean deli on 73rd Street and picked out quite the festive evergreen, then carried it fifteen blocks home. Under the careful supervision of Grandpa Monty (widely considered an expert in the field) we soon had the tree in the stand and nearly perpendicular to the floor.

Saturday started out with some quick errands, then it was off to the Sensory Gym to meet the gang. After seeing Zach into his session, Daddy ducked around the corner to his "cookie meeting" to catch some serenity. We all met back at the Gym at 11:15 to collect Zach, and it was off to see the Grands.

By the time we got to Daddy’s house, Miranda has crashed-out big-time, for a two hour power nap. We put her down on the couch, where she did a wonderful impression of Sleeping Beauty. Zach on the other hand, set right off to business, with the help of Daddy and two doting grandparents. Actually, Zach decided that a bath would be a good way to wash off the sweat he worked up at the gym – so bath-time was the first activity of the afternoon.





We played with blocks and cars, read books, had a nice lunch, watched some Blue’s Clues, worked on our alphabet and numbers, etc. Eventually, Miranda awoke and joined the fun. She had some lunch (I think she will follow in Daddy’s footsteps and be the next vegetarian of the family) and we got ready to head out to the park. But as we were putting on our shoes, Zach made it very clear that he really wanted to stay put, chill-out and take a nice peaceful nap like Miranda had. He fought it a little, but out he went. This worked out well, because Miranda got some of her own time with her grandparents and Daddy. We had story time with Miranda, snuggles galore, and a hotly contested game of “dinosaur-ball” which she thought was the greatest game ever invented, and laughed until she hiccuped.

Our special family-time monkeyshines ended about four hours after it began, when Mommy arrived to collect the little ones. Daddy had a nice visit with his parents during the remainder of the weekend and even got a nice meal out of it. Mostly, we had some good long talks.

We took quite a few photos, and I’ll do the usual image update in a week or two. I bought yet another disposable digital camera at Riteaid, and they were having a buy-one-get-one-free deal, so there will be lots of great pics coming, including the whole Christmas thing. Stay tuned for that – the first Christmas at the House of Miller and Christmas-time Monkeyshines.

And He Smote Them

I was reading a bit of the Old Testament last night and really enjoyed all the "smiting" that seemed to happen back then. It seems to me that the Almighty has left that particular tool idling in the celestial Craftsman toolbox for far too long. Why is this? Did he lose it? Did the switch to the metric system somehow screw things up (pun intended)? God should definitely rediscover this long forgotten means of persuasion. Think of all the things and people that could really use a good old-fashioned smiting. I can certainly think of a few people who would make my "and He smote them" short-list, can't you? I'm not trying to back-seat deify, but one of the attributes of a good manager is to listen to the ideas of his loyal employees. Just consider it a suggestion - I have the list ready.

In other news: today is my company holiday party, which should be very caloric (mashed potatoes, collard greens and sweet potato pie - MMmmmmnnnn!). After work I plan to stop on the way home and pick up a Christmas tree. The kids were enthralled with the small tree in the waiting room of the audiologist's office Wednesday night (by the way, they couldn't get a good read on Zach and said to bring him back in six months). I was on the fence about whether or not to get a tree, but their delight and interest tipped it for me. By the time I get home, Dad and Fredi should have arrived - they are spending the weekend with me, hoping to get a brief visit with Zach and Miranda before they head off to Florida for the winter. Hopefully all will go well, and as planned.

The Endless-Boogie

I was glancing back at my last few posts and it stuck me that they have all been very Zach/medical focused. Although this stuff has been a major focal point for me over the past several weeks, the endless-boogie called life has continued unabated. So how is our hero? What is on his mind? Has he been washing behind his ears and eating his e.coli-free vegetables? Indeed, he has!

Let’s talk about me for a minute, shall we? I’ve been in a pretty good space lately, as I was telling my friend Dr. Zoe on Monday night. I finished up last week on a real spiritual high – I was tired to the bone but surprisingly happy, must be all that good, clean living. I rode that wave through Saturday then came back down to Planet Earth on Sunday. Life is still damn good, but more of a normal flavor of good -happy, joyous and free.

Note: This post in its draft form was quite a bit longer, but developing circumstances have reminded me that I must be cautious about what I post until the legal fun in which I am involved has been resolved once and for all. On that day I shall get down on my knees and thank the universe for its unlimited, timeless and beautiful grace.

More “Doctors” and Such

On Monday, we took Zach to have a speech evaluation at NYU’s Rusk Institute, which is part of the same medical center at which the genetic screening took place two weeks ago. We entered on 34th Street instead of 1st Avenue this time, so I’m not sure that Zach made the connection, he certainly did not seem to be expecting any unpleasantness and was in a fine mood. After filling out all the insurance paperwork stuff, we rode the elevator to the fifth floor where we met Laura Brooks who was the Speech-Language Pathologist that would be doing the evaluation.

Zach charmed her immediately by giving her a kiss as a greeting. There were lots of cool toys and some familiar ones in Laura’s office, so Zach went right in to explore and didn’t mind at all that Mommy and Daddy stayed outside. While the evaluation was going on, we filled out a multi-page questionnaire and medical history on Zach, that will become part of the report that will be written on the evaluation. The evaluation lasted some time – I did not keep track of the time, but I would guess that it lasted between a half hour and forty-five minutes – it was definitely long enough for us to finish all the writing and hang out eavesdropping outside the closed door.

The little guy did great, and we all sat down to discuss the findings, while Zach had his snack. One of the reasons for this evaluation was to determine whether or not Zach has speech apraxia, which is a neurological disorder characterized by loss of the ability to execute or carry out learned (familiar) movements, despite having the desire and the physical ability to perform the movements. It is a disorder of motor planning, which may be acquired or developmental, but may not be caused by incoordination, sensory loss or failure to comprehend simple commands.

Laura said that Zach had some definite characteristics of speech apraxia, but some characteristics that were definitely not apraxic, thus there is no simple diagnosis. This is inline with the evolving/clarifying picture of Zach. He does not fit into any easy category – he’s just Zach. The therapy recommendations that will be in the report, however, will just be more of what he is already getting. The best news to me was Laura’s comment that “he’s so teachable,” which she said in reference to his ability to sit down and focus for a therapy session. The other piece of good news was the recommendation of having a neuro-psychological evaluation and the referral to a preeminent expert in the field. Stay tuned for developments on this front.

In Miranda news (thankfully there is very little news here) our little lady got a Mumps shot yesterday, which I will hear all about later this afternoon when we take Zach to his audiological evaluation (hearing test). After today, we should be done with doctors and such for the year – more coming in 2007. Next up: Zach’s first dentist appointment (he won’t like that one little bit).

Real-time Monkeyshines

Today, as I type these words, I have a beautiful little monkey sitting on my lap, who has just informed me that I am typing on a “puter”. The other is having his usual buffet lunch: going into the kitchen, stuffing his mouth full of everything-free pasta, and coming back into the living room to chew and watch Pinky Dinky Doo on Noggin.
We met this morning at the Sensory Gym, and after seeing Zach start his session and Mommy and Miranda off to get a muffin on a stick, Daddy went around the corner to the Bay Ridge Group to get a little dose of serenity before this fun-filled day. We all met back at the gym at 11:15 and waited for Zach to finish his work. We were just in time to see him ride the zipline and come crashing down into a big landing pit filled with plastic balls.

After collecting our guy, we all headed over to Daddy's house, stopping briefly at the toy store so that Daddy could buy some stickers for our afternoon art project. The monkeys were hungry, so we started making lunch almost immediately. Mommy left about the time it was ready and the real fun commenced. Lunch was pretty routing, though once again, the fruit (especially the assorted melon) was the big hit. We played with all of the toys, new and old, including the tunnels and tents. We made some beautiful drawings that we decorated with stickers, and nobody colored on the walls.

This visit featured some firsts. Miranda discovered the bag of tub toys that hangs in the bathroom and set about spreading them out on the bathroom floor to see what treasures she could find. Much to her delight she found floating Elmo, floating Cookie Monster, floating Ernie and floating Bert. At about this time, Zach happened by and saw all the goodies. Being a practical sort of guy, he figured that it was as good a time for a bath as any, and why not take the tub toys out for a test-drive.

So we had bath-time. Daddy was careful not to get their heads wet because of the cold stroller ride home that awaited, but the rest of both little monkeys got a cleaning.

After bath-time, we opened some more of the presents from Thanksgiving and found some Fischer Price little people, a Fischer Price little people farm set (including a pony!) and a really cool magnetic fishing set – much thanks to all! Another “first” (or maybe “change” would be a better word) was that the kids were extremely cuddly with Daddy and wanted to sit in the chair with me and on my lap the whole time – this definitely did not bum Daddy out. They have always been affectionate, but now they are behaving the same way towards me as they do with their mother. I think that they are just becoming truly comfortable with the new routine, with the “new” environment, and with Daddy. Zach no longer tries to grab all of his cars and put them in the stroller when it is time to go, because he knows that they are his and that they will still be there next time. I don’t think that they think of it as “home” yet, but they are certainly right at home in Daddy’s home.

Mommy returned after a little over three hours and found everybody happy and just chilling out. We continued playing until about four, when sadly it was time for the little people to make the trip down Ridge Blvd to their other home. We said fond farewells, traded kisses and started counting the minutes to our next installment of Monkeyshines.

Please enter any 11-digit prime number to continue...

This is the first entry that I have done completely on my new used computer. I needed another assist from Nathan in order to get the computer talking to the web - I found a wireless network at the office that I could tap into, but couldn't get it to connect. I called the helpdesk (Nathan) and received the following text message: "sudo dhclient eth0" which, when I ran it on the Unix Konsole, worked just fine. When I got home I tried the same thing and guess what? - IT WORKS! The connection is a bit sporadic, but it is good enough and it is free.

This is also my first browsing experience with Konqueror and my first experience using KOffice Works. Both are Kubuntu Linux applications and so far, totally rock my world - they are much more intuitive and much better thought out than their Microsoft (or even Apple) counterparts, though the desktop environment and interface are totally different. The next big challenge will be figuring out the photo editing suite. I should finish up the disposable digital camera that has been hanging around for the past three weeks tomorrow when I am with the kids, and should have the disk by Monday at the latest. Rather than use the raw photos, as I have done here so far, I plan to do a little image manipulation.

I will sign off now and keep this short, as tomorrow is Monkeyshines day. With any luck, you should not have to wait until Sunday to read all about it. Peace and Love, and a special thanks to Susie and Wayne for the hand-me-down.

1f y0u c4n r34d 7h15, y0u r34||y n33d 70 637 |41d.

Well, it looks like I most likely have some more ground to travel before I get my new used computer talking to the rest of the world (at least from home). I am probably going to have to spring for either an Ethernet card or a wireless router (this would be way cooler but more expensive), some discount DSL or broadband service, and a new battery for the machine, as the current one is only holding a charge for about 5 minutes. The computer is still not recognizing the floppy drive, but Nathan thinks that will be “fixable” since the firmware for that is already in the Linux kernel. The hard drive is only 6GB, so an external USB hard drive would be nice, but I am trying to keep my total investment into this machine to $100 dollars or less (I'm already into it for $50 for the memory upgrade), so this does not seem to be an option and I will just have to use my gmail account for my document and image storage. It seems that this project will last well into 2007.

In other news, I stopped by my lawyer’s office on the way home yesterday to finish filling out some paperwork. This has become a kind of routine - if a tad bit surreal – part of my life these days. Her office is in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, in a neighborhood that while trendy now, still has not completely shaken off its crack-flavored character of the 90’s. It is a small office on a side street, with boxes, files and supplies stacked to the ceiling in every available space, and there is always a small group of nefarious looking individuals huddled outside the bodega a few storefronts down. I sit there with the obese office calico on my lap (this cat loves me for some reason and won’t leave me alone) and ask questions, while the five or so associates literally step over each other in the process of conducting business. I always leave with my head spinning, trying to wrap my brain around what I’ve just learned, marveling at the completely obtuse system of conflict resolution that is the American legal system. It is truly crazy, and the fact that it actually works, more often than not, fascinates me. It reminds me sometimes of the financial accounting course that I took in graduate school, and of learning that there were really no “rules” – just a broad framework within which various, and occasionally contradictory, structures could exist. My head spins as I try, not so much to understand this system, but as I try to divine what this whole thing means for my life, my future and Zach and Miranda. I usually get nowhere fast.

I am a true Gemini – by this I mean that I am truly two people (though it often feels like there are a bunch more of us in here) in the same mind/body. On one hand, I am very much a scientist and mathematician, by training and by nature, and see the world in terms of probabilities, functions, equations, hypotheses and experiments. In short, this part of me seeks to solve the problem that is the universe, and though I have made considerable progress along these lines, I invariable run into the paradoxes that arise when logic is applied without sufficient data. On the other hand, I am very much a dreamer and sensualist, floating from idea to idea, from place to place, and from one moment to the next unfettered by worldly concerns and with complete disdain for anything resembling real work. What these two need is some serious couples counseling – this is the gray, the fuzzy logic that I have been seeking, to replace the bivalence with which I used to, and am still inclined to, see the world.

Today I am suffering from almost complete exhaustion, thus the logical, scientific me is basically out to lunch and my inner dreamer/sensualist is really running the show. He is not to be trusted, so I have structured my workday to enable some prayer and meditation, in order to achieve some semblance of an even keel. What I really need is a good meal, some wild sex and a good 12-hour sleep. Two out of three ain’t bad, so there is hope.

It can’t be done…or can it?

The person who says it cannot be done should not interrupt the person doing it.
~ Chinese proverb
One of my colleagues, the beautiful and talented Miss Sara, who is a graduate student pursuing a masters degree in writing, challenged me this morning to write a poem. I know what you’re thinking - “That doesn’t sound like much of a challenge,” and ordinarily you’d be right. The challenging part was to write this poem without using any letters, only punctuation. Ahhhh, I see that you are intrigued – “It can’t be done!” you say – actually, I wrote three, but I can only get two of them to look right in this heavily Html format. I thought I’d share them with y’all:

Hammering in a nail (and hitting your thumb)

!…. !…. !…. !…
!…. !…. !…. !…
!…. !…. !…. !…
!…. !…. #..$@!!&!
…… : (


Stubbed toe on the way to the bathroom – in the dark

..?.?….?……?….
?…?…..?..?…..?.
…?…..?..?…….?.
?….?.?…?….?.…
..?….?..?…!.F@!#!!
. . . . . :’ (


OK, so I cheated a little bit on the second one and used the letter "F", but you get the idea: you don't necessarily need letters and words to write a poem. Sara got the idea this morning from a book of poetry written by various Puerto Rican poets - such are our conversations around the copying machine in the morning. We don't get paid much, but it is fun working with intelligent and creative people (by the way, I had my class study Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's letter to the American people this morning -
http://www.un.int/iran/pressaffairs/pressreleases/2006/articles/13.htm
- some fascinating reading!).

Nerds Like Us

I took the hand-me-down laptop given to me by Susie and Wayne over to Nathan’s on Friday, for a first-class geeking (is that a verb?). We spent several hours working on it (actually he worked and I played with Eliza Jane). After upgrading the memory of this aging Compaq, we set about eradicating anything even vaguely Microsoft related. I’ll let you have it in his words, taken from his blog entry (visit the Eckenrodehouse link on the side) entitled “spreading the love”:

Yesterday, my buddy Mark came over to the house and we installed Kubuntu on his old laptop. Since the laptop was pretty ancient and was still running Microsoft Millenium Edition (silly name if you ask me) I had to do a little bit of geek voodoo to get the computer to cooperate.

Using a Knoppix Live CD of DSL (Damn Small Linux) to boot up and disengage the MSN code, I was able to follow that up with an installation of Ubuntu Linux 5.10 Hoary Hedgehog. Then once that was complete - I used Hoary because it does not have a graphical installer and it does a pretty good job of erasing and repartitioning a hard drive - I was able to boot a Kubuntu 6.06 Dapper Drake Live CD and install that version. Then finally, late at night I went into the list of repository sources in /etc/apt/sources.list and changed all instances of Dapper to Edgy.

Then I ran these commands:

sudo apt-get update
sudo apt-get dist-upgrade

An hour later, the computer had the basic code for Kubuntu 6.10 Edgy Eft installed (it would have been much faster had this laptop had an ethernet connection, instead the install was done completely over WiFi). Some minor changes and then I had completed the process - naturally I take the hard way there could have been a much easier resolution but I had to set it up perfectly!

So now I own a breathtakingly useful Linux machine that is wireless capable, has an awesome array of applications, will play DVDs, is infinitely upgradable in terms of software, and even still has a floppy disk drive (quaint huh?). Of course the first thing I tried was bootlegging in on someone’s WiFi network in my building, only to find that the only one with decent signal strength is encrypted. So I got into my thinking chair and pondered my problem. I emailed Nathan this morning with my big idea:

Dude, so I had another idea (this is usually where the trouble starts).
I realized that in order for me to do dial-up or DSL, I must have phone service to the jack in my apartment. This will cost me additional money that I do not want to spend and a bill each month that I desperately don’t need. Then I had a small epiphany: I could use my cell phone! I found a free dial-up ISP that supports LINUX (Metconnect.com) and registered for it. What I need to do now is get an adapter for my cell phone - I plan to check out the Verizon store this afternoon. My search online made it seem that I was unlikely to find an adapter that will connect my phone to the phone jack in the back of the computer (and the computer does not seem to recognize that it has any modem - another issue), but a USB adapter is available for my phone.
Here is the challenge for your geek voodoo (actually, this may require some serious kung fu): since any software that comes with the phone or adapter is not LINUX friendly, is there a way to get this machine talking to the internet through a cell phone connected to one of the USB ports? With free nights and weekends on the phone and a free ISP, it would be the perfect no cost solution.

If I know my comrade he is on the case – this is what it is all about: just one nerd helping another. Stay tuned, as I’m certain that this computer will be a continual source of blog fodder.

Sunday Monkeyshines (Part II)

I saw our favorite little monkeys briefly on Saturday, when I stopped by the Sensory Gym at the end of Zach’s therapy session to get the debriefing. Luz (the therapist) said that he had had a great session – he did lots of activities and she was working with him on using scissors. The real visit took place on Sunday again this week and it was great fun! Once again, Daddy took a bunch of digital pics, but I still haven't finished the "roll" - stay tuned for image updates.
The little people arrived at 10:30 on this cold December morning, but Daddy's place was a warm and cozy place to get away from all the stress of being a toddler. Zach held the doors for us, like the fine little gentleman he is becoming, as we wheeled the crew in. These two were off to the races immediately, going straight for their bedroom and the toys therein.
I wont bore you with all of the details, just some of them:
Some new activities/behaviors this week included Zach climbing on the dressers and hanging upside-down off of them (he really likes the upside-down show on Noggin). Of course, once she saw her brother doing it, Miss Miranda had to partake of this soon to be banned activity.
Miss Miranda found her first limit at Daddy’s house and cried (got quite pissed off actually) when Daddy refused to allow her to color on the walls and windowsills with her crayons. I realize that standard construction paper is kind of limiting for artistic genius of Miranda’s caliber and I’m working out a solution, perhaps for Christmas.
This visit also featured a two-hour solo flight for Daddy, who did the lunch thing on his own with our little people. Lunch was kind of on the early side this week, as Zach seemed very hungry (he wolfed down three whole bananas before lunch and ate his spaghetti and a whole mess of grapes – must be a growth spurt coming. Miranda enjoyed almost an entire bowl of green beans, lots of grapes and several other delicacies.
After lunch, we opened two more “Christmas” presents that Daddy brought back from the North Carolina Miller Family Extravaganza. This week we found a cool magnetic tow-truck set and a magnetic drawing set which was the big hit. Both little monkeys did some really groovy doodles and used the magnetic stamps to make patterns. Of course Daddy was most pleased by the good sharing that he saw.
Zach did a lot of really good talking and at one point he picked up on of the stuffed cows and brought it over to me and said “cow” which he says like “owww”, he then told me that a cow says “moo” which Zach says like “oooo”. He also did a great job of saying his colors and organizing the magnetic numbers on the refrigerator.
Miranda brought Elmo over and had him go to school with her weebles. She played with her playing cards and dominos, and had a lot of fun making silly faces and sounds with Daddy.
When Mommy returned we all decided to go to the park by the Fort Hamilton High School track. Both Miranda and Zach were very into the big slide that stands alone by the swings and Miranda must have gone down it 30 times. They both also enjoyed swinging on the big peoples’ swings, though Zach gets excited by this and waves his hands in excitement, which has caused him to fall off in the past – we’re working on it.
The day was cold and after only an hour at the park we all had cold hands, so back to Daddy’s house we went. We played some more until it was time to say farewell to each other with hugs and kisses, until our next episode of Monkeyshines.