Isaac Updates.
For those of you who don't get regular Isaac updates, here's the scoop.
1. At his Babysitter's the other day, he turned to her, looked up, and said, and I quote: "Hubba Hubba."
She was in tears laughing when she told us, and it took us some time to figure out that Hubba Hubba is the unlikely name of a character on the british Children's Show 'The Hoobs." (It's done by Jim Henson's workshop, and is really quite...well...surrealistic. But that's Frank Oz these days, isn't it) The wierd part was, that he hadn't seen an episode for about 4 weeks.

So he was just standing there, probably glueing glitter onto a piece of paper, and his brain was processing a Hoobs episode from four weeks ago, and out came "Hubba Hubba." Honestly, I don't know where he gets it.

2. Isaac is now into several phases simultaneously.
a) The "read it again?" phase, where we get the joy of slowly memorizing Isaac's entire library.
b) The "Not yet" phase. Somewhere he picked up "not yet" instead of no. So he isn't really being defiant and saying No when we ask him to do something, he is just procrastinating. So he says "Not yet!". Again, I don't know where he gets it.
c) The "want to help" phase. For instance the other night Isaac insisted on helping mommy season the pasta sauce. She handed him the garlic shaker, probably expecting a few judicious shakes, and he promptly extended his arm over the pot, turned the shaker upside down, and held it there. By the time Noelle was able to react, we had a REALLY authentic Italian dish. If by authentic you mean it really puts hair on your chest. Which is ok for me, but awkward for Noelle, and just plain wierd for Isaac.
d) The "It's not tasty" phase, where he won't eat anything we put in front of him. He just pushes it away and says "It's not tasty." Again, I don't know where he gets it. We have tried everything, from bribing him with dessert (anything involving raspberries, I don't know WHAT we're going to do in the winter), to sending him into the living room to sit quietly until we're done (which produces a louder, more piercing whining noise than if a West Jet 737 were spooling up in the living room). Nothing works. We just have to wait for him to come to the conclusion that his whining and complaining will not work, and that if he wants the Raspberry and Marscapone cream cheese filled crepes (don't ask), he will have to suffer the indignity of eating some Chicken and Mashed Potatoes in mushroom sauce.

I mean, it's not like we're poisoning the kid.

3. One of his favorite games at night before he takes his bath, is to lie on Mommy and Daddy's bed, and play with the Polished Stones that I picked up for Noelle over the course of several visits to Las Vegas.

Now before you accuse me of being a total lump, Noelle happens to have an interest in Geology, and used to have quite the rock collection when she was young. And besides, what the hell else was I going to get her from Las Vegas? One of those clocks with dice for each hour of time? Not a chance. :)

So, he plays with the rocks, and is slowly learning all of their names. His favorite one, however, is "Amethyst", which he can say quite clearly. It's embarrassing, he's going to be in Kindergarten, and the teacher will hold up a pretty stone, and say "What' this?", and all the kids will say, "It's a pretty rock.", and Isaac will stomp his foot and say in a high pitched tone, "No it's NOT. It's a Lapis Lazuli!!!!"

And then he'll get beaten up at Recess.

But there's really nothing I can do at this point to protect him, other than have Auntie Jo teach him Karate as soon as he has enough coordination to stand on one foot. At this point, that's my only hope.

So that's the news at this point. More as things (such as Isaac's disturbingly large brain) develop.

Mayoralty Race
So it's civic election time coming up soon in Ontario. Where we get to decide who will be in charge of whining to the province and the feds about offloading of services.
In Hamilton, in Ward one where I live, there are a few issues.
1. The race will be acclaimed, unless anyone is insane enough to run against the guy. He is really one of two honest, hardworking politicians in all of Hamilton City Hall, and is all but worshipped in the terribly progressive ward where I, and most of the University professors live.
2. The Mayor, is without hesitation, the most corrupt politician serving at his level in Canada. There may be a reeve of some backwater logging town who breaks more rules or takes more kickbacks, but said reeve has probably never PLEAD GUILTY IN A COURT OF LAW TO ELECTION FRAUD.

Yes, you read that right. The man is human garbage. And to make matters worse, his punishment was to write an article in a major international Civic Leaders magazine describing how he had learned his lesson, and from now on would run a clean campaign.

HELLO!!! Why don't we just put up a sign at city hall. One qeue for "Peons", and one for "Developpers." And I DON'T mean software.

It's a disgrace.

So I am encouraging our provincial leaders to allow us to write in candidates. They can do it in the States, and I think it's a damn fine system. Does anyone remember just after U2 released Joshua Tree, when Bono was written in on so many Presidential Ballots that he came in third place? See. The people had spoken. Imagine how much more progressive and responsible the U.S. government would have been after a term with Bono at the helm. I wonder if he would have taken off his sunglasses to take the oath of inaguaration. But I digress.

Anyway, I want to be able to write in the candidate of my choice. Specifically, Rex Morgan M.D. I have been following this comic strip on and off for several decades now, and as far as I can tell, the good Dr. is the only one in the comic on a regular basis who is not a lying cheating scumball. And I'm thinking that if that's the type of people he is used to being around, he would be PERFECT for Hamilton's city hall.

So if you are in charge of rewriting the Ontario Municipal Act in the next few years (I honestly have NO idea who is reading this thing these days, so I can hope, can't I?), please consider allowing us to write in candidates.

After all, it's all about the will of the people, isn't it?

Bath Time
So I was giving Isaac his nightly bath tonight, and singing away to him like I often do (Singing in the bathtub!), and it occured to me to ask:
What do 50 Cent and Snoop Dogg sing when they are in the shower.

They musn't rap. That would be silly, and here is my theory why.

Both of them are consumate performers, and so they take their rap performances very seriously. And for those of you who have ever been to a rap show (I've been to only one), you will know that lyrically the artist rarely strays from what's on the album, it's all about the spectacle...seeing them in person, posturing and gesturing in their most machismo fashion on stage. It's also the intensity of their delivery, all these things are what make a rap show either good or bad.

For the record, the one act I have seen, is, of course, Public Enemy. And also for the record, it was one of the three best shows I have ever seen. Chuck D, who must have been in his 40's by then, had more vocal stamina than any Opera singer I have ever worked with, and his delivery, and stage presence were undeniable. But in the end, he only deviated from the normal lyrics once (During Black Steel in the Hour of Chaos...ask me about it some time), and the rest of the time it was Chuck weaving back and forth across the stage, with Flavor Flav adding his verbal jabs, and the S1W's at the side of the stage doing their routine with their Samurai Swords (Canada Customs wouldn't let their fake guns into the country). The whole thing was amazing. As was the intermission, when Flavor Flav came out on stage, took out his Gold Teeth, and started eating fried chicken. I couldn't beleive it. Then my friend next to me, a guy with probably the most hip hop cred in Calgary at the time, starts busting a gut.

"We paid $20 each to come see this joker eat fried chicken. That's Brilliant!"

But I digress.

So these two (Dogg and Cent respectively), I do not feel would be able to do much of a half assed job of performing any kind of rap. Which leads me to beleive that they would not rap at all in the shower, because all of the aforementioned posturing and machismo would simply look, and feel ridiculous if you were standing naked in a porcelain stall with water running over you and a soap-on-a-rope hanging from the faucet. I don't care how many bullet holes are in you, you'd look like a goof, and their respective egos would not allow that to happen.

So what do they sing in the shower?

My theory?

Showtunes.

Specifically, the masterful works of Rogers and Hammerstein.

I was once talking to my friend (the one above from the P.E. concert) about my secret love of country music, and he said that he couldn't get into it, mainly because there was just nothing even vaguely black about it, and for him as a Caribbean Canadian, to watch skinny white chick after skinny white chick prance across the stage in painted on jeans and a halter top just did nothing for him. There was simply no point of reference.

I think the same could be said of Rogers and Hammerstein. Not only is there nobody even vaguely black in the Sound of Music, but the songs and arrangements are so quintessentially 'white', that it is entirely possible that they had not even MET a black person at that point in their lives.

And don't even TALK to me about Oklahoma.

That's whay I figure 50 Cent and Snoop Dogg and their ilk sing that sort of thing in the shower:
a) It would be a totally guily pleasure. Far more scandalous than if they were into inappropriate touching with 18 year old girls, shooting people, or smoking drugs...oh wait a minute. Anyway.
b) I can think of nothing that would more effectively restore my faith in Humanity and all things good than to crack the door to Snoop Dogg's steam filled bathroom and hear his reedy tenor belting out,
"OOOOoooooo- Klahoma every night my honey lamb and I,
Sit alone and talk,
and watch a hawk,
making lazy circles in the SKYYYYYYyyyyy!"

Doesn't that do your soul a world of good?
Does mine.

Revelations
So I've been on a communication skills course for a few days now, and in that course we have been talking about, and identifying which mental state, or 'ego state' to coin a psychological term we tend to use when communicating.

Mine, for ther record, are: Spontaneous child (SURPRISE!) and Nurturing Parent. However, I seemed to have developped an instinctive critical parent/angry child response to certain situations.

For instance,
In class today, we did a role play where we were videotaped responding to a certain situation. We were given a chance to prepare our questions and determine our objective for this discussion in advance, and then we role played it with one of the facilitators.

It all went fine and dandy, and then he threw me a major curve ball, and I got kind of off track.

So he turned the tape off, we all discussed (yes, this was in front of a group of 8 people...and being recorded on video tape) how I had been pulled off subject, and how to get back.

Then we resumed the role play, and recording.

And during the course of the next few minutes, something happened that I'm not entirely sure about.

The facilitator, acting as someone I work with, said something, and I'm really not sure what it was.

Because I responded in what I thought was a totally reasonable way, and everyone kind of leaned back in their chair...as if...to get out of the way of a small atomic blast.

And the facilitator got a little pale, and then gradually let me off the hook lightly and ended the role play.

We then discussed what had happened, and I really had no recollection of what I had said that had caused such a stir.

So an hour later or so I got to watch the video tape of myself responding to this question or comment Greg had made.

Oh my.

So apparently, when someone gets my goat, I revert to the harshest most sarcastic "critical parent" mental state there is, and proceed to talk to them as if they are a very small lump of green putty with an even smaller brain made of grey putty, and I wish to make it abundantly clear that if they were to be crushed under a homeless person's heel tomorrow, not only would nobody mourn, no one would even notice.

Damn! It was harsh.

So to anyone I have ever made to feel very small and insignificant, I would like to take this opportunity to apologize. I realize now that I have an absolutely acid tongue when pissed off, and I'm sorry if I used it on you.

Except for Craig Kembley. You deserved it. If that offends you, come see me after you've been paroled.

Damn, there it is again!

I guess I always knew that I had a bit of a razor tongue when upset, I had just never witnessed myself using it on someone there indisputably on a video screen...someone whom I respect quite a bit, who was playing the part of someone else whom I also respect.

I guess I can be a little condescending sometimes, can't I?

What was it Socrates said? Or more importantly the Oracle in the Matrix?
Know thyself.
Oh well, live and learn.

More cuteness, and not-so-cuteness.

So while Auntie Sib was here, Isaac seems to have developped a particularly annoying habit. Namely replying to everything we say with "eh?" with a particularly nasal up inflection. You know the sound.

So he would say, "What's that?"
and I would reply, "It's a car."
"Eh?"
"I said, it's a car."
"Eh?"
"You heard me Isaac, a car."
"Eh?"
and so on.

Now deep down inside, I know he just wants adults to repeat things so he can learn the words, but frankly, he knows enough words. We were looking at a scale of language development for toddlers, and he is, for all intents and purposes, at a 3 1/2 year old's level. He would be at a four year old's level if he could use the past tense, and he's starting to figure that out.

So frankly, I think he has all the words he needs for now. He can aquire any new ones without the benefit of "eh?"

Also, the other night, we asked him, quite innocently enough, "Are you almost ready for a bath, Isaac?"
He replied, "Almost."
Where does he get this stuff.
Oh, and now he's hopelessly addicted to the Thomas the Tank Engine web site. Grr. Because he can't quite figure out how to point the mouse, it means endless hours of me sitting at a computer staring at inane Thomas themed memory card games.

What was it Louden Wainright III wrote?
"Being a dad, can sure make you mad, man it can sure drive you crazy.
It's as hard as it looks, you gotta read 'em dumb books,
and you end up despising Walt Disney."

'nuff said.

Other than that, he is still the cutest creation to ever walk the earth. He is in his "Dad's the greatest" phase, so he wants me to "Come play trains?" as much as possible. He would be quite happy if I were to quit my job, and stay at home with him all day pushing a little toy Thomas around a wooden track. Hmmm. The thought has merit.

Also, for Sibavaughn's edification, we seem to have moved past "Horsey," a game which Biba brought to new heights as she trailed up and down the hallway of our house with Isaac pulling his little wooden cavalry soldier on wheels, and Sib following behind with the wooden farm animal set on wheels that Danielle bought him for his first birthday.

Thankfully, wonderfully, mercifully, we have averted most of the "Horsey" games since then with "Let's play Thomas!"

What is that old saying about the lesser of two evils?

Anyway, I love being a Dad, I really do. His favorite book right now is "Papa Please get the moon for me" by Eric Carle, a gift from his Step-Great-Grandmother (Clara). It has two of my favorite elements, a) A father doing the impossible to please his offspring, and b) Sound astronomical theory about the phases of the moon. Ok, so it's pretty close.

Anyway, we have read it ever day now for going on about two weeks. That book I don't mind. We needn't mention Goodnight Moon.

911 Post
So I figured it's appropriate for me to weigh in on this solemn occasion, especially in light of the considerable US bashing I have done here from time to time.To clarify my position, I love Americans. Hell, I am one (ok, half one).

One on one, and even in moderate sized groups, Americans will for the most part, give you the shirt off of their backs, and throw in a home cooked meal for you, if you need it.

Americans outgive Canadians in terms of charitable donations by a huge margin, and not just to arts groups, but even to organizations like the United Way. And don't even talk to me about tithing to their churches.

I think my view of Americans was neatly summed up by the events that immediately followed Katrina, another recent US tragedy that was exasperated by a clumsy (ok, Keystone Cops) government response.

The two contrasting stories were of the absolute Hobbesian state of nature (Hobbes declared in the 1800's in his book Leviathan, that life without a strong governing presence would be "evil, nasty, brutish and short") that occured in the convention center. It degraded to the lowest form of Human exsistence I think the US has seen in centuries. This was mainly...ok, almost entirely due to the federal, state and civic governments totally inadequate response to the crisis, and general foot dragging once the scope became apparent.

On the other hand, was the couple from further north in Louisiana, who packed up their motorhome, which was basically a giant kitchen on wheels, and headed down to cook some gumbo. One hell of a lot of gumbo. They talked some kind hearted supermarkets into donating supplies, and fed all who asked for several weeks, if not months. All on their own dime, all on a volunteer basis.

Why? Because they had done the same thing during the 9/11 cleanup for the workers there, and thought it would be a nice thing to do for the Katrina victims aswell. Man.

So the point I'm trying to make, is that Americans for the most part are the kindest, most generous people in the world, but if allowed to gather in large groups and choose their own government, that's where the whole thing falls apart. They are easily duped by slick talking politicians and their campaign managers, and almost always end up electing politicians who are bought and paid for by either special interest groups or big business.

I know that sounds really condescending, and I don't mean it to come out that way, but P.T. Barnum said it best, when he allegedly said (some dispute whether or not he actually said it), "Nobody ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American public." Unfortunately, the Republicans seem to know all the buttons to push...or at least seemed to until Iraq started unravelling on them.

We'll see what happens in November.
Until then, and always:
God Bless Americans.
I'll leave it at that.
J