The rest of the family was gone for several days visiting various historic sites in Norway. So, I had the castle to myself for a few days – sweet!
I kicked off my shoes, grabbed a glass of grape juice, and headed downstairs to my domain.
From the first day we moved into this house, I was allotted four of the seven downstairs rooms to do with what I wish.
The first room is my Grandmaster room. A small, dimly-lit room, it has only one item at dead center – a hand-carved, pewter chess set under glass, with special lighting. I’ve really enjoyed chess these last few years, and I am starting to get some wins at the local chess club.
The next room is the Lord of the Rings room. Also small with gallery lighting, the walls are decorated with a few collectors’ swords, framed images of the cast and an original Ring Wraith cloak from the cast and set of The Lord of the Rings.
The next room is the apple-themed office/computer room. Through the French doors is my pride and joy – a dual processor, G5, Apple tower with dual 30” LCD screens and a 5-Terabyte Raid storage system.
The last room is merely the family room. But it does have a nice state-of-the-art surround sound system, theater lighting, widescreen HD and two rows of cinema style seating. I have a one-half-scale authentic popcorn machine in the back as well as fountain pop (just two choices though).
With the kids gone, it was definitely time for a nice action movie. I decided to fire up the popcorn and selected The Matrix from the shelf. I turned the volume way up and settled back for the experience.
(This is usually the point where I wake up.)
My eyes opened and I saw that the old water stain on the ceiling had returned. And those cobwebs in the corner were back too. Some clown took my glass of juice and left me a warm grape Shasta. That’s when I realized that, for reasons I cannot recall, I was back in my old house again, and the kids were upstairs jumping and yelling. They must have come back from their trip, early. Then it sunk in — this WAS my house and they never went to Norway.
I have never been and will never be allotted four downstairs rooms to do whatever with, primarily because we don’t have four downstairs rooms.
My hand-carved pewter chess set in the Grandmaster room is actually a plastic and vinyl, rollup set under the couch ($9.95 at Walmart). What’s worse, I am handily beat by 11-year-olds at chess club.
My Lord of the Rings room is really just the 3-DVD set (not the extended edition either), mixed in on the shelf with a more impressive collection of Strawberry Shortcake and Buzz Light Year movies.
The spacious apple-themed office is actually just a homemade desk jammed in the corner of the living room, piled high and teetering on disaster. By the way, a mere 17” screen and one processor, thank you.
My family room does have almost surround sound – that is, with one speaker missing (one of the kids ripped it down). There is no cinema seating, no widescreen, no HiDef, no fountain pop and we use microwave popcorn (the cheap stuff). And if someone wants to come over and identify the smudgy, sticky goo on the TV screen from kid fingers, I would appreciate it. I’m not going near it. I’ve seen what my kids do with their fingers.
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| A daydream now and then never hurt anybody. And when I wake up, there is really no need to be down about reality. Everything is relative. Put a spin on it, not unlike a white house press secretary, and violà, it sounds way better.
For example my two-year-old, Karsyn, seated in her high chair, was showing signs that she was finished with her peanut butter and jelly (PB&J) course, and was starting to play with her food. Thinking that this was a good time to introduce desert (cracker or cookie), we asked her if she was interested and she affirmed by saying, “Cacker peas”.
She then proceeded to hold up the last mangled scrap of PB&J (looking then like something from an industrial accident) for us to take away. Karsyn always wants previous courses cleared from her tray before the new course arrives. If we don’t grab it in time, she will drop it on the floor. This sequence of events is a real bright spot for us.
You might be asking, what could possibly be bright about this verbal exchange and being handed a yucky table scrap? Well, here’s where the spin part comes in.
Previously, Karsyn simply chucked her food in all directions. Sometimes she did this because she was finished, and other times to see what sort of “splat” sound it would make. Additionally, when asked if she was ready for a “cacker” in the past, she would not only unload the scraps on her tray, but she would remove the half-digested mush ball from her mouth and hand that to us as well. As Don King would say, “Fannnnnnntastical”.
You see, everything that wasn’t already swallowed had to go to make way for the beloved “cacker” of happiness. We have come a long way from table-scrap chucking and partially digested mush balls, to the beachfront property of table scrap handoffs. Now, wouldn’t you be encouraged to have beachfront property instead of mush balls? It’s all relative.
I deploy this theory of relativity whenever possible. If one of the kids comes cryin’ to me about a near-death boo-boo on their finger, I grab another one a couple of fingers down and pinch it. Right about the time they say “hey”, I stop and quickly ask, “Now, does your other finger feel better?” You might not believe this, but they actually look down at their original problem finger and think about it and give a hesitant “yes” (relative to the throbbing in their newly aching finger). Sure, the affirmative response from the child has a bit of a “you’ve lost your mind” tone to it, but the initial ailing finger is now nothing special — and we are moving on with our day.
At the end of the day, my chess set is not pewter, but it is extremely portable. I do get to see the Lord of the Rings now and again in high quality, almost surround sound. And the Apple computer I do have can produce full Terabyte DVD projects with ease for a few hundred preschool parents. Life is good.
And when you factor in the upgrade from the partially digested mush balls to the beachfront property of table-scrap handoffs, I am most certainly living the dream.
Although, I’m having a hard time spinning the sticky goo on my TV screen. Anyone who would like to swing by the Twin Cities and identify it gets a free finger healing.
Just puttin’ it out there.
That’s my report from the “Big City”.
Brian in the Big City
Employee #0090698
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