The Time I Almost Got Arrested: PART I AND II

I drive into work at 3:30AM each day. Its wonderful having the road to yourself without traffic, without distractions and with a better than small chance of the cell phone ringing unless its my college brother texting me incoherent words as he nears unconsciousness after an evening of drinking cheap beer.

My 40 minute commute allows me time to reflect on current events, the weather (my job), family, quantum theory, stuff like that. Just a few days ago as I passed the only 24 hour Wendys on the interstate, my mind came across the vivid memory of my cross-country driving trip back in 1998 and the second one with my wife back in 2000. It seemed like an eternity ago. A time before 9/11, a time before kids, a time before 90210 went off the air. A time when my wife and I almost got arrested while allegedly sneaking into Zion National Park. All I need to say is: Hungry Girlfriend and not enough money. Ready for this?

When I conceived the idea of traveling across this great land via automobile with my wife, I had the experience of one other cross country trip under my belt spanning grueling stretches of vast interstates of Arizona and Colorado, volvanic ash covered roads of the Black Hills of South Dakota, the cotton fields of Mississippi and a town with a population of 7 in rural Wyoming of which I have a picture. My checklist for the trip included a Mag-Light, pocket knife, money and a Rand McNally among other things. I thought I had thought of everything until we got about half way through our trek when the unthinkable happened.

Driving up I-15 after leaving Las Vegas, I thought of the bright idea of hitting every National Park within 4 inches on my current position on the map. What I failed to take into account in my wave of exploratory impulsiveness was that in Utah, 4 inches on a map isn't a quick 1/2 hour drive like it is in, say Connecticut. Its a 4 hour odyssey!


All I saw on the semi-worn Rand McNally were the green pockets that indicated national parks and plenty of them ready for me to conquer. They gleemed like diamonds; the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow; my reward after a long journey. My wife tried to convince me that this might not be a good idea but I wanted nothing of it. The conversation was like this as we thundered down the interstate at 77 mph (the speed limit is 75 in Utah):


Me: "Look at all of the sights we can see here in Utah!"


My Wife: "Lets try to prioritize what we want to..."


Me: "Hell, we'll be fine. We can hit Zion then right down the road is Bryce Canyon and then a little further east is Canyonlands National Park. No problem."


My Wife: "We better get something to eat before..."


Me: "There will be something near Zion; not to worrry."

That was the last thing we said to one another before we started down the road to oblivion.


10 miles....20 miles...30 miles...40 miles and no Zion National Park.


My wife: "We had better stop at this next rest area."


Me: "Just a little further..."'


Another 10 miles....and another 10 more...


My wife: "Uhhh, where is this Zion National Park? This had better be good because I'm freaking hungry!"


Me: "Almost there."


Another hour and a half and still no park.


You know those awkward moments when no one knows what to say or do. This fast became one of those times. The tension was mounting. The radio was off and I was seriously hoping for some sound to break the silence. Maybe we'd blow a tire or maybe a bird would hit the side mirror. Although she wasn't saying anything, I could feel my future wife crawling up the inside of the car in a despirate plight to locate food. I kept my mouth shut hoping that at the top of each rolling hill we approached marked the entrance to the park. We were out of crackers, the water was warm and our supply of gum was gone.


Finally, just over the horizon, Zion National Park appeared. I was relieved because at this point, my wife was licking gum wrappers frantically while mumbling a veritable plethera of expletives directed at the situation and me.


Don't get me wrong, she had every right to be mad. I acted a little too impulsive and now, we were in the middle of Utah with no sign of any park and my wife was hungry. I knew I was wrong but I ignored her and kept on driving with one hand on the wheel and the other hand on the door handle in the event I had to bail out.


We approached the ranger check-in station where you pay to enter. The only problem was that the brochure said it was $10 for a day, the sign at the station said $30.


Our conversation continued:


My wife: "What the f***!"
I feared for my life.


My wife: "We won’t have enough gas money to get home!"
The volume of her voice now escalating to the level that everyone within 20 feet of the car could hear her if the windows were down.


Me: "Alright. Let’s get up there and ask..." I was trying to frantically calm her down.
In a sarcastic tone, I made the mistake of saying: "Eat some crackers and relax."



My wife: "Goddamnit. this park had better be worth it!"
Although she didn’t say it, there was an implied "or else" at the end. I was visibly shaken.


We drove up to the window. The ranger said that the cost was indeed $30.


Once the amount was confirmed, amazingly nothing was said by either one of us. We were passed words. I purposefully didn’t make eye contact with my wife for fear that I’d either get "The Look" or I’d find her passed out in the passenger seat due to low blood sugar. Quickly taking hold of the situation, I told the ranger that we didn't have enough money and asked if we could turn around just beyond the gate and head back. He said sure.


There was a parking lot about 30 feet beyond the gate so I thought it would be better if I turned around there rather than do a "U’ie" in traffic. I pulled into the lot, decided at the last minute to stop, stretch and think about our next move after we exited the park. My girlfriend/future wife at this point was getting delusional and verbally confrontational with anything that moved. She was hungry and tired and at this juncture, according to her accounts a year later, the flowering tree and shrub in the grassy knoll near the parking lot appeared as a sandwich and chips. The garbage can--a chilled diet coke.


No sooner then I turned off of the car, got up and stretched out, a ranger officer pulled up behind the car.


My wife: "Holy sh**. So help me God, if he......."


Me: "Just be quiet. I’ll handle this."


The officer didn’t want to hear anything. I tried to explain but he wanted nothing but my ID. He ran a check on me presumably to make that I wasn’t a convicted felon.


My wife stood up out of the car and almost started ripping into the ranger. As she stood up out of the car, my life flashed before my eyes. In her present state of dehydration and malnurishment, her poorly chosen words would easily have gotten us both arrested. Thank goodness, she backed down and/or lost the will to fight. Either way, the ranger found that my record or lack thereof was not a threat so he told us to leave the park now in no uncertain terms. He escorted us out of the park as my wife threatened to impale me with a plastic fork.


Finally after 35 minutes retracing our driving, we found a Subway restaruant, ordered a few subs and calmly devoured them in roughly 90 seconds.


The moral of the story: When embarking on a trip without putting much thought into it, make sure your girlfriend or wife has a full stomach and is not thirsty.

The time I almost got arrested back in '98: PART I

ABOVE: X MARKS THE SPOT

I drive into work at 3:30AM each day without traffic, without distractions and with a better than small chance of the cell phone ringing unless its my college brother texting me incoherent words as he nears unconsciousness after an evening of drinking cheap beer. My 40 minute commute allows time to reflect on current events, the weather (my job), family, quantum theory, stuff like that. A few days ago during my commute just as I passed the only 24 hour Wendy's on the interstate, completely out of the blue, my memory suddenly dug up memories of my cross-country driving trip back in 1998 and the second one with my wife back in 2000. Seems like an eternity ago. A time before 9/11, a time before kids, a time before 90210 went off the air. A time when my wife and I almost got arrested while entering Zion National Park. All I need to say is: Hungr girlfriend and not enough money. Ready for this? When I conceived the idea of traveling across this great land via automobile with my wife, I had the experience of one other cross country trip under my belt spanning grueling stretches of vast interstates of Arizona and Colorado, volcanic ash covered roads of the Black Hills of South Dakota, the cotton fields of Mississippi and a town with a population of 7 in rural Wyoming of which I have a picture. (Now, population of 1 as of 2000) My check for the trip included a Mag-Light, pocket knife, money and a Rand McNally among other things. I thought I had thought of everything until we got about half way through our trek when the unthinkable happened. Driving up I-15 after leaving Las Vegas, I thought of the bright idea of hitting every National Park within 4 inches on my current position on the map. What I failed to take into account in my wave of exploratory impulsiveness was that in Utah, 4 hours on a map isn't a quick 1/2 hour drive like it is in, say Connecticut. Its a 4 hour odyssey! All I saw on the semi-worn Rand McNally were the green pockets that indicated national parks and plenty of them ready for me to conquer. They gleamed like diamonds; the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow; my reward after a long journey. My wife trying to convince me that this might not be a good idea. The conversation was like this as we thundered down the interstate at 77 mph (the speed limit is 75 in Utah):

A Ride in a B-17 Flying Fortress

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Mother's Day Photo Project

A few weeks back, I was trying to find a way to package some gift for my wife for Mom's Day. Then it hit me. Why not create a single photo comparing both of our kids at the same age doing the same activity like eating.

A Bevy of Pics

Another Poignant Conversation With My Son

This conversation occurred yesterday evening.

Mom: "Do you need a snack or are you full?"

Nathan: "Nope. Tummy hard as a rock..."

Nathan: "Uh wait." (Nathan feeling his stomach with his eyes peering upwards as he reevaluates his abdominal status) "Now, food in butt. Snack please."

My son's future wife

So a few days ago, my wife was talking with my son about random topics ranging from trucks to his sister to...marrage. How this came up, I have no idea.

Evidentally, he knows what he wants in the woman he will marry, whoever that will be. He says that he wants his future bride to be

"Skinny, boney and ugly with horsehair"

Go get 'um tiger!

Sounds of Parenthood

Think of the highest pitched noise you've ever heard.

Got it.

Play that sound back in your head over and over again.

Imagine that noise coming from your 6 month old. Surprised? Probably not because babies make goofy noises. That's a no-brainer.

Now imagine your 6 month making that very same high pitched noise and you standing 100 feet away wearing ear protection and still being blown away as if an air horn went off.

Yep. That's my daughter Elaina and her newly found talent for screaming for no apparent reason. Her upper octave range makes an opera singer sound like James Earl Jones.

Babies scream. I get it. It happens. Babies scream when they are hungry, have gas, when they're cold or in pain. No biggie. Its to be expected. My daughter? No, no. She screams just because...well, its fun. How do I know? She cracks up after each one.

Her shrieks aren't your typical "goo-goo-ga-ga" stuff. Her ear piercing shrills are legendary. The other day, my wife and I did an experiment. She held Elaina inside in her room as if she was putting her to bed with the windows closed and I went outside and stood in the middle of the backyard to see if I could hear her screams. As if she know what we were doing, she let out one of her best screams right on cue. Sure enough, she was as audible as if I was right there next to her. Remember, I was 110 feet away with 6 inches of insulation, drywall and an exterior wall separating us.

Afterward, her and I had a little talk and I asked her to tone down her newly found "voice".
Her response to my inquiry,

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Once she ran out of air for the scream, she looked at me, grabbed my noise and just laughed.
She is now grounded for a week which I will informer her of when she is eight.

I love my kids. There are the best thing ever to happen to me. Their idiosyncrasies are what make them cute and lovable. But I can do without Elaina's screams and my son's subsequent retaliatory shrills he "performs" as a way of keeping up with his sister. Until that day comes, my wife and I just laugh, grab our EPA certified ear protection and enjoy the sounds of parenthood.

Clarification on Last Post

Evidentally, some of you have taken my last post the wrong way.

I use a sarcastic tone when I write so please don't take every word literally. My goal was not to diminish what my parents went through in raising all five of us (sports, school, etc) but to illustrate how kids demand so much of your attention and mental sharpness . My parents over time learned how to balance out their energy output so as to give us kids as much attention and focus as possible while still getting things done everyday. My parents were NOT lazy in any way shape or form. New parents like me are still learning this art of balance. Overtime, I am sure that I will. I just hope I can develop this trait over time to the high degree that my parents have.

Blenders...Brains...Fatigue

My parents never had energy.

I always wondered why they had to rest after dinner or work. I knew their fatigue wasn't due to some ailment or chronic condition so I thought in my infinite teenage wisdom that they were just apathetic old people that really didn't want to do anything. To them, I thought, the status quo was utopia. An evening after dinner watching Dan Rather or getting ready tomorrow's dinner or hanging out on the deck if the weather was nice seemed to be--in my overly self confident, myopic punk-15-year old mindset about as static and boring as you can get. I remember distinctly thinking, "I'll NEVER be like that when I get older."

Boy was I wrong.

Throughout my adult like, energy was never a problem. I worked during the night, worked out, played sports, went without sleep. It was fun and exhilarating. Even with my first child, my wife and I cruised along with the view that we could handle anything. When my wife and I drove home and walked into the house with our second child on October 25, 2007, everything changed. My mind and body went blank. The energy that I was accustomed to having was suddenly drained. My ability to process information quickly and without hesitation was severely hampered as if someone took my brain, pureed it in a blender and poured it back into my head. I swore I could literally hear it sloshing around at times. Sure it was all psychosomatic but the feeling seemed real enough.

Maybe this feeling would go away after a little bit of time. A new baby was home and maybe I was a bit nervous. Two kids? WOW.

Here we are 6 months after the fact and my brain is still a liquefied amalgam of tissue, nerve fibers and organic molecules that are SUPPOSED to work together to facilitate cognitive ability and memory. I can assure you that aside from holding a job, pouring juice and queuing up old Bob the Builder VHS tapes, my brain no longer works..

There is just enough brain activity left for me to come up to this conclusion:

HAVING KIDS CAUSES BRAIN DAMAGE!

Don't get me wrong. I love my kids. I would step in front of a moving train to protect them...if I had the energy to do it. Its just that having two children is exponentially more time consuming and more taxing mentally than one. Just like I am sure that three kids is 25 times more draining that two, and so on. I was the first of FIVE KIDS so I should be used to a higher degree of chaos. (I use the word "chaos" in the most loving sense) Now I realize why my parents didn't relish extraneous activities. Its not that they didn't want to, say, throw the ball around. They just had no energy left in the tank. They were tapped. Their reserves were on "E" and the only way to recharge was to catch up on world events with Mr. Rather or read the weekly Parade Magazine about some family who has 12 kids and how they share a 3 bedroom house. I always wondered why they always read or watched about something that was more chaotic (world events) then our day-to-day life. It made them feel better. After all, who is having a better day. The family with 5 kids or the family of 12?

I now have an appreciation for what my parents have been going through since 1978 (the birth of my second sister). Its not that didn't have energy as I thought back then. Its that all of their energy was poured into us kids each hour of each day. Sure I understood that my parents went out of their way for us when we were growing up. But it wasn't until I became a father that I realized how great their endless sacrifices were that they made for us. Its not that they had no energy for fun, its that their energy was used up to allow us kids the freedom to have a ,life at the expense of theirs.

For them, incidentally, the child-rearing ride is about to end as my brother is about to graduate from college. My everyday life with 2 kids and mental fatigue is just beginning. I tell my parents what I am going through and all they have to say smiling is:

"Paybacks are a bitch aren't they?"