A Decade In Review

With 2020 fast approaching, this shall be my final blog of 2019 and the final blog in a decade in which I moved back to Johnstown, got engaged, wed, and had two kids. I am currently working on a project called "happily ever after".

When the decade started, I was not a blogger. I'm not exactly sure what I was. I know I was not whatever I am today. Today, I am a blogger, jogger, and mind boggler often jumbling together writing, exercise, ambition, and adventure. Of course, marriage and daughters have been critical to my jumble, my bumble, and those girls wrestle like it is a royal rumble.

Rhyming and alliteration often are a part of my prose process. And as I write this sentence, my two-year-old is climbing all over me from cranium to clavicle like a crazed creature. I write for pleasure even if finishing a paragraph can be painful. Alas, this decade is almost done.

I wish everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Who knows when I will blog again, but I am sure I'll be back on the bombarded keyboard some time soon.

Stay positive Johnstown.

See you in 2020.

Dad Movie Review: Frozen 2

When Frozen hit theatres in 2013, I was introduced to Elsa and Anna. That was the year my wife and I tied the knot. Now, Frozen 2 is upon us. Elsa, the oldest sister, has striking blonde hair and immense power. Our oldest daughter has striking blonde hair and she can be a power hungry 4-year-old. Anna, Elsa's younger sister, is silly yet brave with strawberry blonde hair. Our 2-year-old is a silly, brave redhead. Thankfully, that's where the similarities end. If my wife and I were like Elsa and Anna's parents, we would have died a horrific death in the open seas (spoiler alert).

And that's where my movie review begins - with Disney's ability to create captivating family films that do not shy away from tragedy. Bambi's mother? Shot and killed. Simba's Dad? Stampede survivor then thrown over a cliff. Elsa and Anna's parents? Drowned. Disney digs at our core. Yes, it is the most magical place on Earth, but at any moment, it could be your final magical moment on Earth.

In Frozen 2, the shipwreck that left Elsa and Anna to rule the kingdom is once again a critical part of the plot. While Frozen had a kingdom of isolation in the mountains, Frozen 2 takes us to a mysterious forest. Once in the woods, there is a lot of music, drama, and comedic timing from a talking snowman.

Olaf is a carrot-nosed joy. He once again is a scene stealer with rapid-fire observations and ideas. Without Olaf, the Frozen franchise would rely too much on a sibling saga and flashing lights. A bumbling snowman balances out the intensity of the adventure.

Sterling K. Brown plays the role of Lieutenant Destin Mattias. Brown is best known as Randall on This Is Us, the show that has become synonymous with crying. There is nothing like watching This Is Us after a long day of work and parenting. You dedicate your free time by watching actors go through a long day of work and parenting. Ultimately, you cry, unsure as to whether you are crying for Randall or for yourself. Entertainment and psychology at their finest. Lieutenant Destin Mattias did not make me cry; however, he is absolutley intertwined in the emotional thread that is Frozen 2.

Frozen 2 gets 2 thumbs up from me, or if you are a snowman, two sticks up. The music once again runs the gauntlet from empowering to somber to triumphant.  The animation is terrific, particularly an underwater sequence that stars Elsa and a clydesdale. The ending, like all sequel endings, makes you wander, will there be a Frozen 3?

If Frozen 3 is released in 2025, will my 10-year-old and 8-year-old daughters still go to the movies with me? I will be in my 40s. I will need some Olaf at that point. Oh dear. I'm starting to overheat.

Well, this blog is over. Time to go watch This Is Us. 

Downtown Dine and Dash

A lot of words starting with the letter "r" have been associated with downtown Johnstown over the past few years. Revitalization. Redefine. Restoration. On the third Tuesday of this November, the owner of Press Bistro used the word "revolution". Whatever "r" word you choose, the best way to describe it is "real".

The pep talk about revolution was part of a Progressive Dinner hosted by Press and Balance restaurants, a culinary collaboration of two small businesses that flank Central Park like suppertime soldiers. My restaurant resume consists of watching Netflix and then using Play-Doh to invent dishes for my daughters. Nailed it!

So, as you can imagine, Press and Balance wanted to impress me, the local Wolfgang Puck. Everything I've ever heard about owning a restaurant is summarized by the consensus that it is hard. Eating at restaurants is easy, especially when you get a babysitter for a Progressive Dinner where you don't have to order. The food just comes out. Nailed it!

This progressive concept, months in the making, was executed to near perfection by the masterminds behind Press and Balance. The fusion of food, family, and friends traveled from one restaurant to the next. Our table shared laughs and reviews. It felt like an episode of Chopped except there was no validity in voting a chef off the show. Everything was excellent.

Three days later, I dashed downtown. After a Progressive Dinner, one's weight progresses. Alas, the annual Ugly Sweater Run is an opportunity to run past Press and Balance and burn off seafood risotto. (I could have lived in that risotto. Built a house there...) Anyway, the Ugly Sweater Run is the 2-mile warm-up to Light Up Night hosted by Discover Downtown Johnstown Partnership. This warm-up was in almost freezing temperatures with wind gusts. My Santa beard was disheveled yet children still offered their support as I maneuvered down Main Street.

Upon crossing the finish line, I freed my beard from the Santa beard. It was a lot of fun and a lot of beard. My family embraced me like an Olympian, partially because my mother was incorrectly telling people my goal time was 10 minutes. Even if I was offered a lifetime of seafood risotto, I don't think I could pull off 2 miles in 10 minutes. My children were not concerned about my time. It was time for the parade.

Parades are such a funny concept. I imagine the original parade pitch had some critics.

"We are going to get a bunch of people to participate in organized traffic. It will all move really slow. Spectators can line the streets and cheer for the traffic. Oh, and this is best in cold weather. We will throw some candy at them. It will be great!"  

The 2019 Christmas parade featured some true entertainers. There was a Grinch on foot that did showstopping creepy work. A shepherd, dressed in blue, did some ridiculous and exceptional dancing on board the Environmental Tank and Container float. Imagine Bethlehem with a disco ball...and an environmental tank. The Peanuts always bring joy to the soul and of course high school band drumming never disappoints my offspring.

Post-parade thee tree light up in all thy glory. Central Park was full of anticipation as the countdown clock summoned a burst of red, green, and silver. My eldest daughter was on my shoulders, the warm-back-up workout after the Ugly Sweater run. There is nothing like having 45 pounds distributed on your shoulders as the colors of Christmas radiate in the autumn air.

The downtown experience is real. While there is a seasonal sensation downtown, a mighty big and bright tree, there are year-round businesses sparking the revitalization / redefinition / restoration / revolution.

Thank you to all those who made Light Up Night a success and to those lighting up downtown Johnstown day after day, all-year-round.

"No" Vember

For those of you that have been a 2-year-old, are a 2-year-old, or are raising a 2-year-old (that should cover all my readers), then you are familar with "No". It is the 2-word chorus of the 2-year-old.

However, rebuttals and rebellion come in much more provocative ways. For instance:

"Stop acting like a child".

My 2-year-old daughter told me that today. Notice there is "no" exclamation on that sentence. She looked me dead in the eyes and made that statement. She made that statement because I asked her to not stand on the toilet seat when attempting to wash her hands. As her body dangerously dangled over the sink, her heartbeat never changed, like some seasoned scuba diver wanting me to just leave her to her practice. There she was, seconds away from cracking her jaw on the faucet telling me:

"Stop acting like a child."

Last weekend, I was running like a grown man. Every November, since 2012, I run in the 5-mile Morley's Run. "No" body questions my authority from Westmont to downtown Johnstown. I was really happy with my time. The next day I discovered that a 60-year-old man finished a place ahead of me. This fact could have robbed me of my happiness, but I've lost to a wide variety of runners before in my racing career; most notably to a 9-year-old named Natasha way back in 2007 ("Stop acting like an Olympian, Natasha)."

Yes, I remember it vividly. That's how PTSD works.

Anyway, congratulations to all the runners, volunteers, and supporters of Morely's Run. As long as my legs work and my house is crazy, I'll be at the Morley's starting line each autumn.

Now, let's run back to the toilet.

Our society has tried to glamorize going to the bathroom by deeming it "potty training". First, "potty" is an uncomfortable word. It doesn't make the learning curve any easier by leading with "potty". It is "toilet training". Everyone needs to grow up and understand that the toilet is here to stay. And, if you don't train properly, you are going to be left in the dust, like me when I lose to 9-year-old girls and grandfathers.

Our 2-year-old likes to procrastinate toilet time by announcing "2-minutes". Now, this is absurd on 2 accounts. One, she can't tell time. Two, she makes no commitment to not peeing her pants during this untimed procrastinaton. It frustrates everyone except her. And that really is what toilet training comes down to: the day you realize that peeing your pants is no longer worth it. I truly believe every human being does a pros/cons analysis as a child. And until the cons outweigh the pros, we pee our pants. And we smile. Which leads me to my final point.

Smiling is the way to go. When you are toilet trained and able to reflect back, there is a whole lot to be grateful for. My pros greatly outweigh the cons. Johnstown's pros greatly outweight the cons.

And when I was a 2-year-old, there was no Internet. There was no place to blog. I am grateful for the opportunity to share my life and share some positivity via the World Wide Web, but I recognize how negative this way of communicating has become.  If you are going to post, do it like a pro. Run with the positive pack. Making rude comments on the Internet is much like peeing your pants. It's messy. It's self-fulfillling. It needs to change (pants included).

Tonight, I hope my girls sleep well and dream big. I'll encourage them to not stand on the toilet seat when they brush their teeth.

Goodnight, Johnstown. Encourage on.

"No, thank you" to negativity.

Festival, Field, Farm, and Forest: Part 2

Festival

Every October our family celebrates the French and Indian War before Halloween. (What?!?!)

Well, here is the thing. In Ligonier, there was a British fortification along time ago. And now, there is a museum that commemorates the fort and the history. And it is recognized as a National Historic site. And generations of people have come to the fort to see what it is all about. And on one particular weekend in October, every year, thousands of people flock to Ligonier for a bunch of different reasons.

When a 2-year-old arrives at Fort Ligonier Days, she tries to grasp the magnitude; the history; the fellowship. She patrols the crowd. She soaks in the drizzle. No precipitation, no matter how strong, will rain on this parade. As the bands start to play and the horses gallop, she spots the reason why she has come this far...

The Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.

Pure joy is when a rain-soaked man in a hot dog costume, waving from his luxurious wienermobile, captures the eye of a little girl. She loves him for what he is - a rain-soaked man in a hot dog costume - and she loves hot dogs, having no concept of the pig they once were. It can only be described as a magical moment between a heartfelt fanatic and a ballpark frank.

I haven't cried in public in a long time.

Field Trip /Farm

That same 2-year-old did not participate in a field trip to Vale Wood Farms the following Monday. She was a bit under the weather, maybe still under a cloud of mist and magic from Ligonier. Alas, my wife and I accompanied my 4-year-old to Vale Wood for two solid hours of pre-Halloween hysteria.

We started with a tractor ride. The weather was perfect autumn - a shining sun, crisp air, and a farmland smell. My eldest daughter was not convinced it was a real farm. She expressed this to me as we were being pulled by a tractor. Her contention was that real farms had more than cows. She was quite disturbed. I reassured her that Vale Wood Farms was real and not some Hollywood set in Loretto. My words were meaningless.

Then, we saw two pigs. Authentic farm. Soon to be hot dogs, but nonetheless, authentic farm.

After the hayride, there was plenty to do. Vale Wood has a water balloon launcher constructed into wooden poles to send gourds into the atmosphere. There is even targets to aim for or small children if you are some sort of madman. Gourd launcher - genius with a touch of danger. If you want to steer clear of flying gourds, the corn maze offers confusion and of course, corn. My daughter was initially bored by the concept, but once we got into the maze, she lit up like a jack-o-lantern. It was a fun walk amongst the stalks. It was time for lunch.

My lunch was pumpkin a la mode. It was pumpkin ice cream topped on a pumpkin gob. It was healthy because A) milk does a body good and B) pumpkin is a vegetable. If you had ever viewed the expanded version of the food pyramid, you would find pumpkin a la mode in fine print at the peak.

Thank you Vale Wood - for the cows, for the pigs, for one great pumpkin party!

Field

On the 3rd Saturday of October, the field was out in harvest glory for the Red Cross Vampire 5K/10K. This annual run supports a tremendous organization. Dressed as a pumpkin, I separated from the patch and enjoyed the sunshine and Halloween spirit. Costume camaraderie was all around.

I treated myself to a maple glazed donut after crossing the finish line. Year after year, race after race, I enjoy seeing the community in motion - on the pavement, on the trail, around town. Runners and walkers set the stage for the next generation so they just don't sit at home and eat maple glazed donuts. Eat maple glazed donuts after crossing a finish line.

Special thanks to the Red Cross for organizing this great seasonal event. Thanks to the Johnstown Running Club for their growing initiative - to organize an exercise-enthused community.

Forest

Saturday afternoon was reserved for Mom and Dad time. Mom and Dad time @ Royal Berkshire, the regal nickname of Berkley Hills golf course. My wife and I hit many a tree, but lost no balls to the forest. It was 9 holes of mediocre, splendid golf. It was our autumn Master's.

As October leads to November, get out and enjoy our landscape while you can. Do not be foolish and prescribe to a myth that there is nothing to do in Johnstown.

Like Frankenstein, Johnstown is alive.

Live it up.

Festival, Field, Farm, and Forest

Festival

The Bedford Fall Foliage Festival could also be named "The Bedford Fall Mass of Humanity Festival". It is that rare occasion where I happily enter into a congested sea of people. On the 2019 Saturday that my wife and I walked the streets of Bedford, the weather was awesome autumn. Everyone and their autumn mother was sipping on apple cider and searching for Christmas gifts. 

My wife and I have treated the Bedford Fall Foliage Festival as our Christmas wonderland. She creates this Santa-style spreadsheet of relatives that have been nice over the last year. I wander thru tents using gut reactions that spruce up in the autumn air. We hold hands as long as we can. Not out of love, but out of safety. It's like Bedford bumper cars on those streets. 

Our pumpkinhead kids did not attend the Fall Foliage of 2019 because they had a scheduled sleepover at their grandparents' residence. Good for them. 

Field

In a land called Schellsburg, there are bison. Upon leaving Bedford, you can quickly adventure out of the mass of people to view the massive beast that is the bison. Standing upon a hillside, one glorious bison was visible from Route 30. Across the street, there is The Bison Corral, a gift shop for the ages. A part of me wanted to be more National Geographic and be in the field with the bison. My wife wanted no part of that. Alas, we walked into the commercial corral. 

I did not make a purchase, but I could have bought Native American artifacts, a coffee mug, and pounds of bison meat. Talk about sprucing up somebody's Christmas. I appreciate small businesses like The Bison Corral. If you find yourself on Route 30, I recommend a stop and the view. 

Also, according to the website, bison can run up to 35 MPH and weigh up to 2,000 pounds. Listen to your wives and stay out of the field. 

Farm

This October Saturday finished at Summer Smiles Honey Farm. Our first Saturday of October was a kid-free autumn adventure so we obviously concluded it by slumbering on a honey farm. In Stoystown, Summer Smiles Honey Farm is there for the taking in all four seasons. 

There are multiple lodging options on this property. We stayed in the "Tiny House". Tiny it twas and it twas terrific. In contrast, the surrounding acreage was expansive and for exploration. I made barnyard friends - human and animal. We shared parenting tips with a couple expecting their first child. I befriended goats. We awoke to Cock-A-Doodle-Doo. Fireside chats occurred outside our chalet. The stars shined. I looked up into the night sky and thought about my kids. 

I thought, if we ever come back here, they can sleep at their grandparents' again. 

Forest

On Sunday, I got back to my roots - my Stackhouse park roots. My daughters have become trail blazers under my tutelage. My 4-year-old understands the concept of Leave No Trace. My 2-year-old sometimes understands that large sticks can be weapons. 

In surrounding countryside communities and neighborhood nature, there is always an opportunity to learn and explore. 

Part 2 of Festival, Field, Farm and Forest will be written later this October. Hold on to your horses and pumpkins. 

Autumn Academics

On the final weekend of this September, and the first weekend of autumn, I drove my family to Plymouth, Massachusetts and back. I, the Clark Griswold of the bunch, did my best to drive safe and learn valuable lessons along the way. Here is my Top 10 lampoon:

10. The back of the bus can be beautiful.

We were not driving to Plymouth to see the rock (incredibly underwhelming). My wife's college roommate was getting married. My wife was a bridesmaid. My daughters were the flower girls. I was Clark Griswold. I was behind the wheel for the entire New England odyssey except for when we rode a school bus to the ceremony.

My daughters headed straight to the back of the bus. There is a country song that goes "there is a lot about life you learn on the bus, how to lie, how to fight, how to kiss, how to cuss". In my recollection, the back of the bus was indeed some sort of bandit cove, where villians and mongrels gathered.

On a sunny Saturday in 2019, I watched two little girls in white dresses stare out the window, side-by-side in angelic harmony. There was no lying, fighting, kissing, or cussing. My 2-year-old was fascinated with the emergency exit for a short period, believing it was some sort of magical lever to a parallel universe. I calmly told her to stop or we would ruin the wedding by falling out into traffic.

9. When in doubt, go see Dr. Seuss.

At the Mystic Aquarium in Connecticut, there is a Seuss quote that reads, "Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better, it's not". 

No pressure, Doctor. We spent a full morning adventuring through the aquarium, getting eye-to-eye with turtles, octopus, and a rainbow of fish. My favorite encounter was with a giant Japanese spider crab. Claw to claw, this aquatic monster can grow up to 13 feet. Yikes.

I encountered the spider crab in the Men's bathroom.

Just kidding.

8. Don't eat the blue lobster.

There was a blue lobster at the aquarium. He was not clinically depressed. He was actually and stunningly blue. The blue lobster caretaker gave us a lot of factoids about the blue lobster, including that you are to not eat the blue lobster.

I think she told us this because my daughters were circling the crustacean's waterway like piranhas. "Sir, can you tell your children to back up. I think they are hungry."

7. If you are depressed, jump on a jumping pillow.

We spent one night at the Mystic KOA in a superb and cozy cabin. When we got out of our Subaru, I led my family to the jumping pillow. We could have spent an eternity on this bouncy innovation. Under the Constitution State sun, our family of 4 bounced up into the heavens like carefree kangaroos.

6. The lobster roll is a winner.

In Plymouth, I ate my first lobster roll. I've consumed lobster before, but never the roll version of the crustacean. When I asked the server for a "blue lobster roll", I was looked upon like some seaside scavenger, a bumbling barbarian from Pennsylvania.

In all seriousness, my lobster roll was red. Red like love. And it was delicious.

5. Nothing beats continential breakfast.

What genius declared breakfast continental? In Plymouth, we had 3 mornings of around-the-world-most-important-meal-of-the-day grub. When you take small children to a continental breakfast, there is so much less anxiety. You don't have to worry about ordering. You don't have to wait. You just take one bite out of a muffin and move on. Dabble in Fruit Loops. Combine juices. Melt hearts by simply being a family of 4 trying to survive a continental breakfast.

4.  I don't care.

During the wedding reception, my wife and I were the only people with kids. Our flower girls were the only girls. As the dance floor caught fire, the band Icona Pop blazed a trail of glory with their song "I Love It". The refrain, "I don't care, I love it, I don't care" echoed in the Massachusetts wilderness. The actual band Icona Pop was not present. DJ T-REX was behind the tunes.

When you are dancing with your family to DJ T-REX and Icona Pop, you have climbed the Clark Griswold mountain and planted a fatherhood flag on the summit.

3. I care.

This actually has nothing to do with my family's most recent trip, but it is worth commentary. Once when my 4-year-old got her finger smashed in a door, I did not emotionally react. One, I did not think the injury was life-threatening. Two, I was poised. When I got her in the car, and she was presumably emotionally stable, she uttered the following:

"Dad, you know how Mom like cares when we get hurt?  You don't care. You like don't care."

And it is times like these when I think of a thirteen foot Japanese spider crab dragging me out into the open ocean.

2. Home is sweet.

We left Plymouth at 7:30 A.M. on the final day of September. We got back to Johnstown around 8:30 P.M. that night. A lot happened in between. God delivered fog and rain to make the final hour a real doozy. In the end, we safely entered into our humble abode. We dreaded laundry. We yearned for continental breakfast. We were exhausted.

Our daughters were eye-pierced excited.

1. Alas, October.

The 10th month of the year is one of my favorites. The autumn air rolls in as the summer sun says goodbye; however, I did do a slip-in-slide on 10/3/19 in Johnstown. It was 80+ degrees and I let the good times flow.

I can only hope October is as good as this September. I love to travel. I love my home.

Be good to your neighbor and family this fall. Treat every day as if it were a blue lobster - rare, awesome, and bright.

Sweet September

Our family of 4 spent the final August weekend of 2019 in Hershey, PA, the "sweetest place on Earth". So, from an astronomalical and culinary viewpoint, it was a critical transition from summer to autumn in our household. I, being the Mufasa of our pride, decided that Tuesday, September 10th was unoffcially our last day of summer. Our children would each attend their first day of school the following day and unofficially no one truly appreciated the extent of my expedition.

Alas, we traversed into Stackhouse Park for one last summer run at creekside adventure. My 4-year-old had evolved into a waterway waterwoman - fully adaptable to rushes of aqua and pools of H2O. My 2-year-old girl is a tempermental salamander hunter. She is Crocodile Dundee one minute, Alligator "No Thank You" the next. Together, they are blessings. 

As we adventured in the creek, my wife provided supervision and support from the trail. When my 2-year-old tapped out, the love of my life signaled for my 4-year-old and I to venture on. As the sun began to set, we all soaked in the last days and rays of summer. The heat was welcomed. The cool of the stream was refreshing. 

Under rocks and in creekside crevices, we found those slippery salamanders. This amphibian hunt was exciting and silly, two adjectives I could attach to all my fatherhood feats. When our adventure was coming to a close, my eldest daughter and I found a surprise in that cool water. A hatchet, with a canary yellow handle, bounced between geological bumpers, awaiting our discovery. I was that Dad emerging from the Stackhouse stream, daughter in one hand, weapon in the other. 

The ride back home was typical; chatty, combative, and precious. My 2-year-old is currently in a stage where Mommy has to buckle her in. Not only are Daddy's buckling skills inferior, they are downright detestable. If you watched me try to buckle in my Saint Patrick's Day baby, you would believe I was a lunatic incapable of compassion and curbside courtesy. If she had to celebrate one more vehicular holiday with me, she would opt to find the nearest cliff. 

Alas, I love my life. I love my kids. I love the vulnerability I sleep with at night. Not knowing what tomorrow will bring. Not fully capable of understanding what happened today. Knowing that family life is my plot.

As summer turns to fall, I enthusiastically look ahead. On September 11, 2019, I picked my 4-year-old up from school. She was innocent. She was awesome. I remembered what September 11, 2001 felt like so many moons ago. 

I am grateful for my daughters' teachers. I am grateful for my family and the adventures we have had to date. Last Sunday, by the grace of God, I stumbled upon the book, A Walk in the Woods. The author writes the following as he hikes the Appalachian trail, streching from Georgia to Maine: "Life takes on a neat simplicity, too. Time ceases to have any meaning. When it is dark, you go to bed, and when it is light again you get up, and everything in between is just in between. It's quite wonderful really. You have no engagements, commitments, obligations, or duties"

On this final day of summer, I felt that simplicity. The joy of being with my daughters. The joy of being with my wife. The roar of the stream. The quiet of nature. 

The 2019 summer was a hoot. There is a unique hooray when autumn arrives.

Support your community and treat every season as a blessing. 

Summer School

On Thursday, August 8th, I started my summer vacation. I attended the Community Foundation For the Alleghenies annual event known as Founders' Day. This year's focus - to discuss the development and growth of our area's trail system. Sitting by my wife, summer vacation was off to a good start.

In 2013, I sat with my wife at this same venue - Peoples Natural Gas Park. It was for our wedding reception and we were the first couple to use PNG Park as our marriage celebration site. 6 years and 2 kids later, our love for our community continues to grow, much like how those trails continue to evolve. The Founders' Day message was simple: trails connect people. My wife and I are living proof of that. 

The next day, we left at 4:06 A.M. for the beach. Family car rides connect people, but if you leave extremely early in the morning, you allow your children to connect with you four hours into the trip. This strategy is an act of love and to maintain sanity. I am proud to say, we executed the plan to perfection. 

Beach week reveals a lot about the family dynamic and the ability to disconnect from routine. Above all, this year's trip reinforced what I have always believed - the Great Outdoors is the ultimate classroom. To see my kids splashing, dashing and thrashing - that is learning at its finest. We were dragonfly chasers by day and crab hunters by night. On our final full coastal day, we took what felt like a safari in a wildlife refuge. We saw great blue herons, osprey, and the landscape that connects Virginia and North Carolina. Our guide was even able to wrangle a cottonmouth snake and teach us about this serpent by the sea. 

When we got back into town, a church message on being "daring" in faith provided a closing touch to the trip. The cottonmouth, venemous and what my daughters would classify as "creepy", is not a fellow to touch. Touch - we not dare. What I am willing to grasp is how important faith and family are to me. Beach trip proved that. Amazing Grace proved that. That 2013 wedding recepton proved that. 

On that Sunday afternoon back from the beach, my parents reconnected with our kids. My wife and I headed for one of those Johnstown trails - the Jim Mayer trail. On our bikes and under a beaming sun, we traveled with the Stonycreek, viewing geese and Coal Tubin' tubers floating down the river. Pedailing by my wife, summer vacation was ending in a great way. 

Get out in your community and connect. Discover trails and support local initiatives. Soon school will be back in session, but remember that Mother Nature is always calling. 

Dare I say it - Johnstown is a great place to live. 

Joys and Jolts of July

July is intense. It is the month we wait for all winter. When it arrives, July steams and scorches. It goes by way too fast. Our family went through blood, sweat and tears in the 2019 July...and we still got some July time left. Here are some of the joys and jolts we have experienced so far.

First, let's start with the kaboom, Independence Day. I did not realize my own independence until I had kids. Once you have dependents, you look back on your life and say aloud, "What did I do before I had kids?" "What was 'free time' and how did I spend it?"  No one answers those questions. You are simply surrounded by fireworks and explosions within your own brain. Every 4th of July in Brownstown, the night sky becomes a colorful bombardment of light as my brain tries to process it all. 

On the 5th, my wife and I went on a tour de force of downtown Johnstown via the bicycle. Our children were still recovering from Independence Day and approved of this athletic date night. We parked the Subaru in Cambria City and pedaled our parental hearts out. First stop - Balance. First order - Street Corn. This Main Street eatery makes a damn good street corn. "Local sweet corn deep fried and rolled in spices, mayo and parmesan cheese". 

You know you are getting old when you start a date with street corn. Or, maybe you feel like its the 1800s when you pedal up and order corn. Either way, the 5th was my Independence Day. I had my woman. I had my bicycle. I ate me some corn. 

From there, we rode to the Inclined Plane, the world's steepest vehicular Inclined Plane. We hopped on and rode that pulley system wonder to the top. We rode our bikes around Westmont before ordering calamari on the deck @ Asiago's. That's right, we went street corn to deck squid. Parents gone wild!

Exactly a week later, we biked again from Cambria City to downtown, this time to destination Flood City Cafe. The fusion of biking and food and music is alive in downtown Johnstown. This movement, both literal and figurative, is starting to take shape. We listened to The Evergreens play at multiple locations throughout July. This female duo takes some classic songs and breathes new life into familiar lyrics. My daughters and I have powerfully danced to their power ballads for years now. We even got to sing Happy Birthday to my wife from the Flood City Cafe stage with The Evergreens on this occasion.  

Bottomline - go into downtown Johnstown by car, bike, or horse and buggy. Eat the food. Support local musicians. Dance. 

The next day, I took my 4-year-old and 2-year-old daughters camping in Bedford. Nestled in the countryside is Dunning Creek. There, on the second Saturday of July, you would have found 2 Dads and 4 daughters. We had tents. We had boats. We had mud. There was only one Mom and her name was Mother Nature. 

It was a great adventure. During the canoeing of Dunning Creek, I was Lewis. My 4-year-old was Clark. My 2-year-old was Asleep. Lewis had to paddle, up stream, and had to paddle around Asleep's body. Clark did not have a paddle, but was full of ideas. Lewis, Clark and Asleep made it to shore. Asleep remained asleep while Lewis freed Asleep from her life jacket. Clark went back to making "mud balls" and throwing them at a tree. Greatness in the The Outdoors. Next up, The Barn. 

The 26th edition of Barnball was potentially the hottest on record. This 2-on-2 basketball tournament is surrounded by hay and a strong sense of community. In 2019, my partner and I gave it everything we had in sauna-like heat. For the second time in my barnyard life, I finished in second place. The traditional and perfect award for 2nd place - Frank's Red Hot. 

The day after Barnball requires water therapy. I attended a Stackhouse Park birthday party. I soaked my bones in the stream like a true pioneer. I caught salamanders for the kids. We turned a watering hole into a celebration. It was a great way to end the weekend and start the recovery process. 

From biking to canoeing to barnballing, I am grateful...for my family, for my health, for my town. 

Finish July joyfully by starting with some good-old fashioned gratitude...

and maybe some street corn. 

Sunset to Sunset

The first official weekend of summer was a testament to the season. The exuberance of youth was matched by the power of parenting. The shine of the sun was followed by the glow of the moon. My youngest daughter peed her swim diaper. When I took it off, there was no shine, no glow.

Here is a weekend recap, and AWAY, WE, GO!

Friday night was the Stackhouse Park Summer Solstice party. We parked in Westmont and journeyed down to the main pavilion for an assortment of adventure. Our children wore swimsuits as creek crossing and exploring was a guarantee. Our 2-year-old was all but diving into the Stackhouse waterway before we had to warn her of the dangers of hypothermia. She was treated by teenage facepaint artists.

There was an informative and creative Leave No Trace lecture designed for kiddos; a book reading by a local author; live music, featuring my 4-year-old's teacher strumming a guitar. The park also has newly installed tree identification posts that my daughters find captivating. Climbing the path back to our Subaru, they charged hills to pretend to identify trees. At one point, our 2-year-old fell down one of the hills she charged. She was reminded of her body paint artwork and quickly recovered.

When we got home, a miracle occurred. Under the light of the moon on our balcony, both kids fell asleep. My wife and I talked for a good hour and enjoyed this crisp Friday night in June. Historically, once 9PM hits, we, the parents, start to get sleepy, especially me. This is about the time when one or both of our daughters tries to prevent sleep through a series of loony behavior. On the first night of summer, we, the parents, won. Twas only a battle, but we reveled in this wartime victory. Bring on Saturday.

The Westmont Presbyterian Church hosted a 5K, aka the Deacon Dash, on Saturday morning. I ran while my children cheered. I was awarded a hot pink Deacon Dash T-shirt that I will proudly wear. At one point, I dashed too far and had to turn around. At the end, I did not dash far enough. This was one of those 5K where no one cares about finish times. It was all for a good cause and a hot pink T-shirt. As the T-shirt reads, "and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us" (Hebrews 12:1). All proceeds benefited the Westmont Family Counseling Ministries. My family benefited from the Farmer's Market going on in the parking lot. We got a farmer's favorite - zucchini bread - for the ride home. Zucchini bread provided a jolt to mow the lawn.

Grass cut and next up - Thunder in the Valley parade. Now, this was a new conquest. My wife and I got on our motorcycles, blasted Def Leppard, strapped our children in the sidecar, and made our way to Main Street. 

The reality - we boarded our Outback. The parents in black T-shirts. The girls in tie-dye numbers. We might have looked more Woodstock, less Thunder, but ultimately, we were parade bound. From my wife's office, we could get a bird's eye view of the parade with a censored ear of the bikes. To our joy, there was a variety of characters on wheels - Batman, Spiderman, Snow White, Grover, and even Merida. Merida is the courageous archer from the Disney movie Brave. Every hard core Thunder in the Valley biker would know that. 

We went swimming after this expedition. My youngest daughter crushed three Freeze Pops after getting her water exercise and then passed out. Sleeping in the sun, it was clear to see that her last Freeze Pop was green. I scooped her - to protect her from the sun's might - and we found refuge in TV golf. It was glorious. 

Then, I had to change that aqua diaper. It reminded me of a couple weeks ago when there was a tornado warning and water rushed into our front yard. It was astonishing. Even Merida would have been shook. We had to recover quickly. The countdown was on for Toy Story 4 in the Great Outdoors.  

As the sun set over Johnstown, a herd of vehicles stormed the Silver Drive-Ins. Arriving an hour early, we were 20 cars deep in a line to see Woody and Buzz once more. I was first introduced to this cowboy and space ranger when I was 11. 24 years later, "To Infinity and Beyond" is as powerfully as ever. The Toy Story franchise is what magic in the movies is all about. To see hundreds of cars on that grassy knoll is something I will never forget. My daughters playing with my 6-month-old niece on a blanket. My 6-month-old niece sitting up and scaring herself when she rolled from a seated position to a blanket face plant. The magic of the drive-ins. 

That 6-month-old was asleep in no time. Our kids watched the entire movie on pure adrenaline and fruit snacks. I was proud of my squad. We had to be one of the few and proud families who pulled off the Thunder parade to Toy Story 4 sequence. 

On Sunday, we decided that Dad and the women of the house needed time away from each other. Not because we were sick of each other; because it was the right thing to do. When I went upstairs to pick up my first born on Sunday morning, she looked at my attire and the first words she spoke to me were these: "Let me guess, you're golfing?"

"18 holes, precious. 18 holes."

When we reunited on the balcony on Sunday night, another brilliant summer day was coming to a close. From Stackhouse adventuring to 5K running to Thunder parading to family swimming to movie going to leaving my family behind to golf - it was a seasonal sensation. 

Blessed with good health, the sun brought out the best in us. I hope that sun continues to shine over Johnstown. I hope we have to continue using the highest powered sunscreen on the market.

Get out in the sun. Get out in your community. 

As Woody says, "Reach for the Sky!"

Father's Day Top 10

The 2019 Spring is almost over. Father's Day is a good day to look back and produce a seasonal Top 10. My daughters, my products, were instructed to rub my shoulders while I type. I am still waiting for that shoulder rub, but without further ado:

10. Graduation

My oldest daughter graduated from 3-year-old academia. Her first year of education at Geneva Preschool was by all indications a smashing success - great teachers, great experiences, funny stories, funny kids. What is not funny? College tuition estimates 15 years from now. Girls, less sundaes, more scholarships.

9.  Open for Business

Idlewild is up and running for the 2019 calendar year. Our family did a weekday night to ease into the amusement park scene. My oldest daughter and I rode the Scrambler, bringing us closer together, literally.  My wife almost threw up on the Merry-Go-Round. Mommy-Don't-Go-Around-So-Good. Our 2-year-old did not follow the rules and regulations on the Doodlebug. The Doodlebug conductor had to stop the Doodlebug.

So, our first trip to Idelwild was just as we planned.

8.  Anniversary

My wife and I celebrated our 6th Anniversary on June 1st. I promised her I would take her to Idlewild to ride the Merry-Go-Round later in the month. "Love is a circle, setting people free, love is a circle, love is you and me" (random poem line I found on Google) (Dad move).

7.  Dedication

We decided to donate the crib that both our daughters used to a church garage sale. We did not consult with our 2-year-old prior to making this decision. While trying to squeeze that wooden mass out of our house, our youngest screamed bloody murder. She collapsed on the floor as we worked our way around her betrayed body. Once we got the crib outside, she demanded to get inside. On our front porch, she jumped in her crib one last time, like a rabid kangaroo. It was cute. It was scary.

The crib was sold for an unknown amount.

6. Annihilation

On the night of a tornado warning, that same 2-year-old slept on the living room floor as hail pelted our home. Her sister danced on the front porch, illuminated by ice falling from the sky. All our mulch flooded into the front yard. There is nothing like being a Dad and watching your mulch mix in with your grass. Abstract art. We have a wooden woodpecker whose wings are powered by wind. Now, we have a one-winged woodpecker.

Dad: "Who clipped my woodpecker's wing?"

Mother Nature: "I did. Go check the basement."


5. Pilgrimage

On the Saturday before Father's Day, our family hiked through Stackhouse Park to Mill House Cafe. And by hiked I mean, I pushed the oldest in a stroller with the youngest in a hiking pack on my aging back. My wife carried a musket and protected us as we made the ascent into Westmont. We traversed fallen trees and befriended bugs. Upon reaching our destination, the parents sipped caffeinated drinks like Lewis and Clark. The girls acted like Thelma and Louise until a banana nut muffin was used as a peace offering.

4. Tour

The 2019 edition of Taste and Tour in downtown Johnstown was a blast. My wife is a mastermind behind the operation. This annual event has become a showcase of all the good things downtown has to offer. Family, friends and neighbors bombard businesses - 44 businesses participated this year - in one big community party. Cheers to everyone who took to the streets that Saturday; to all the small business owners; to everyone working to bring the best out of downtown Johnstown.

3. Flood

For the second consecutive year, I participated in the Path of The Flood 12K. This race, held on the morning of Taste and Tour, is an exceptional 7.4 miles from trail to city streets. I beat my Dad time from last year and got to give my daughters a sweaty hug at the finish line. The finish line was at People Natural Gas Pavilion, the site of my wedding reception.

"Love is a circle, setting people free, love is a circle, love is you and me" (Dad move - repeat yourself until you are acknowledged)

2. Lunar Eclipse

My father had the golf round of his retirement to defeat me in a Dad-on-Dad battle in honor of Father's Day. He played lights out. At one point in my life, I was an angry golfer and getting trounced by my father would have led to rage. When I was in my 20s I thought I could become better at the sport through aggression and profanity. Now, at 35, I just like being outside.

"Double bogey, beautiful day".

1. Celebration

My wife's grandmother passed away in June and we celebrated her life. Her final day on Earth was on Polkafest Sunday, a fitting farewell. Her Cambria City home was a festival headquarters for decades. Her back porch was a festival sanctuary. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people, walked through her backyard - generation after generation, polka after polka.

I have a vivid memory of her sitting on that back porch and just watching my daughters run wild in her backyard. As they scream, she smiles. No words are exchanged, just one generation looking fondly upon another.

Life sure does fly by. I look forward to the Father's Days ahead.

The full-ride college scholarships. The golf round of my life. The shoulder rub.

The should rub.

The shoulder rub.

A-May-ZING

It has been a miraculous May so far. As I navigate through these early parenting years, miracles and mayhem, milestones and madness, all muddle together in matchless glory. This May has been no exception.

First, we had a shocking moment when a 4-year-old and ancient Scripture combined forces. Since she was very young, our oldest daughter has been an energerized member of our small group. The group, centered on Christianity, often happily and patiently takes detours when our energizer bunny hops on scene. Earlier in the month, my wife was reading a passage aloud when the eyes of my wisest lit up like a Christmas tree and her mouth motor started to buzz. 

Initially, her instruction was to "Wait, Wait, WAIT" as if something momentous had just occurred. As she struggled to find her words, a fellowship ring silently and calmly waited for her proclamation. Watching her, you could see the story unfolding out of her circus brain and into the room. She heard her Mom say, "Saul" and the light bulb went off. In the Cliff Notes retelling version, she educated our small group on how Saul became Paul, how his relationship with Jesus changed, and how he decided to live a different life.

It was amazing. Our group just sat there - stunned by this advanced interruption. My wife cried. Our 2-year-old climbed furniture with reckless abandon. Eventually, my wife finished the reading. We learned that our 4-year-old first heard about Saul at Geneva Preschool. It was an incredible testament to the education she has received and to what a little girl can retain.

Fastforward to a week day later in the month when it was not raining (only a few to choose from). I went on a run in Westmont in an effort to train for the upcoming Path of the Flood Historic Races. I ran past Geneva Preschool and onto the street I grew up on. I made my way into Grandview Cemetery and did the perimeter path of this expansive graveyard. When running, I am often flooded with memories, inspiration, and gratitude. This rush to running makes every mile meaningful.

As I exited the cemetery, I attacked the ascent toward the Inclined Plane. In my many years of running, I have countered hills with faith and family. As the years go by, I'm sure the hills are only going to get tougher, but I know what will get me up them.

With the Inclined Plane in sight, I made my final charge. I saw a couple walk out toward their car as I reached my destination. The miracle - the man who looked back to see me coming - was the doctor that brought my girls into the world. My feet were now walking, but my mind was still racing. Thank you, Dr. Khouzami. My daughters have inherited some of your kindness and sense of humor.

That Friday, I went back to the Inclined Plane. I had both my girls. My wife was on a bachelorette party weekend. A summary of her trip is not and will never be available for print. As we waited to board the Inclined Plane, I bought us a pack of Sour Patch Kids. As we ate those colorful, sour children, a rainbow formed in the clouds above Johnstown. It was an awesome view.

Within a few minutes, the rainbow faded and the Sour Patch Kids were gone. Standing their alone with my daughters, it felt like that rainbow was just for us.

Descending down into the city, I began to connect a lot of dots. Life certainly comes with a lot of ups and downs. Holding my girls, we waited in suspense to make that steep journey to the bottom. When that first jolt occurred, my 2-year-old's eyes got huge and she slowly belted out, "What the heck!?!?!"

In the spring and summer ahead, expect some rain, hope for some sun, and maybe, just maybe, you will find a rainbow. Support your community and attack the hills.

Trust me, the view from the top is worth it.

40 Hours Without Mom

On the last Friday of April, my wife departed for a bachelorette party weekend. Twas the dominion of Dad until Sunday morning. Buckle your seat belts. Remember to buckle your children's (at one point on Saturday, my 4-year-old had to remind me that she was not buckled yet). And away, we, go:

Dine @ DQ

Hot eats, Cool treats. Our grand opening to the weekend was a 4:30 PM dinner at Dairy Queen. I actually saw another Dad I know with his two children doing the same thing. I did not even say anything to him. Without any verbal or nonverbal communication, we were locked in to the same Dad early-bird supper strategy.

You know your social life is on fire when you are having a banana split cool treat at 5 PM on a Friday.

Run Them into the Ground 

My hope was to conquer some outdoor adventure post-DQ, but Mother Nature was cold, windy, and rainy. Alas, we drove to the Johnstown Galleria to ride the elevator and escalator. There is also a jungle gym on the lower level that my daughters explored. This climbing complex is tough for a 2-year-old. My youngest needed help getting to the top. Luckily, her 4-year-old sister was eager to help. Imagine a farmer tossing a hay bale.

During this play time, a young boy asserted himself into this sister act. He often made strange, loud noises with googily eyes. I had to entrust my 4-year-old in taking responsibility for her sister and not handing her over to this unidentified extremist. At one point, my wisest politely called him an "idiot".

I did not have time to explain that boys do have an idiotic nature. I did explain that calling someone an "idiot" is not recommended, especially at dangerous heights, especially with your hay bale sister on the expedition.

Buy A Cannon

Before leaving the mall, we bought a minature cannon from Rare Collectibles. It is hard for me to describe why we bought the cannon or what it looks like carrying a cannon out of the mall while trying to herd your daughters to the parking lot. But, we did it.

We bought a cannon, Mom. Top that.

Watch Stuart Little

We ended Friday night with a screening of the 1999 film, Stuart Little. The oldest daughter fell asleep. Then, I fell asleep. Then, the youngest fell off the couch. Then, she regained her composure. Then, she fell asleep.

Stuart Little is a strange movie. Geena Davis and Hugh Laurie adopt a mouse and introduce him to their son as his brother. This is more preposterous than buying a mini-cannon and screaming "Cannon ball coming" on the drive home with your children.


Dash for Donuts

Saturday started with sweet victory. For the third consecutive year, I was awarded a trophy for the Fastest Stroller in the Indiana Donut Dash. In 2017 and 2018, my eldest daughter took the title with me. This year, my 2-year-old donut devourer was my running partner. I ran for 3.1 miles while she slept in the stroller for 3.1 miles. We both ate donuts for glory.

If the Golden State Warriors win the NBA title this summer, it will be the 2nd most impressive 3-PEAT in modern sports.

Discover a Park 

In the afternoon, our tribe of three combined with cousins and attended a park in New Florence. This was new territory for my family. There is always an adrenaline rush to going to a new park. Will the swings be squeaky? Will there be a climbing wall? What new activities are in store?

There are see-saws at the New Florence park.  They were built in the 1800s by frontiersman Daniel Boone. Proceed with caution.

Side Note: Search "Two James Taylors on a Seesaw" on YouTube. That's one of our family's favorites.


Nap Hard

On the drive home from New Florence, both girls fell asleep. This gave me time to unload them at my parents' house and watch golf in the abode I grew up in. I achieved immense satisfaction watching TV golf. That sentence is the purest of Dad comments.

Eat your heart out, Stuart Little.

Party Hard

I invited multiple Dads over to my house on Saturday night. Two of them (God bless them and America) accepted the invite. One brought his two children. The other came a free man. In total, the house had 3 Dads and 4 children, not a great ratio, but survivable.

When it was all said and done, it looked like a bomb went off in our basement. Correction - it looked like a cannon went off.

Welcome Mom 

On Sunday morning, Mom was back. The house looked a little different, but the love was the same. It was a a great sequence of events with my children. They keep me dashing and dancing. They keep me forever young. They keep me yearning for TV golf every now and then.

Easter Top 10

With a 4-year-old and 2-year-old, nothing can really prepare you for Easter. It is a seismic bunny blast. The 2019 standout moments are as follows:

10. Better Living Room 

On Good Friday, we decided to rearrange our living room. This conquest, led by my wife, required teamwork and dexterity. There was a lot of suspense moving the love seat. Anything could have been under there - goldfish, Swedish fish, Nemo, a real fish. No fish were found. There was a broken plastic egg and a wrapped cough drop. It looked like a chick hatched and did not follow doctor's orders, leaving the cough drop and fleeing the living room. 

9.  Friday Night Lights 

To conclude Friday, my wife fled our house to spend time with some visiting family. I stayed in the new look living room with the rugrats. I watched NBA basketball while they used the IPAD to nurture their minds. I typically do not support IPAD use for the kiddos, but it was the playoffs and I knew the weekend was going to be a gauntlet. Everyone won. 

8. Race Rabbits

On Saturday morning, we all participated in the Wings of Hope, a 5K race in Richland. This race has become a family Easter tradition. The previous two years, I ran with the stroller, pushing my oldest and wisest. This year, I was a free running man. My wife did the 5K walk and pushed the double stroller like a bunny beast. I started the race with bunny ears, but due to gale force winds, I had to abandon my hare hearing. Thanks to all the event's organizers and volunteers. Another Wings of Hope in the bunny books!

7. Playground Hop 

On the way home from the race, we stopped at Arbutus Park playground, a real gem in the Johnstown playground circuit. It has a climbing wall, monkey bars, and a bunch of obstacles to almost get hurt on. Of course, there are swings. My kids could live on swings. Earlier in the week, my 4-year-old fell asleep on a swing. I kept pushing her, not realizing she fell asleep. Then, she fell on the wood chips. Then, I got scared. Then, she just got up, made a brief whimper, and asked for help getting back on. 

That's one tough rabbit. 

6. Easter Saturday Nap 

We all got to sleep after the Arbutus park pandemonium. My kids probably dreamed about all the candy they would soon receive. I dreamed about no one giving them candy and providing funds for college. 

5. Egg Dying Party 

That sounds bad. "Egg Dying Party". The funny thing is we attended a party to dye eggs and the table was covered in newspaper. One of the sections - obituaries. Now, that really is an Egg Dying Party. 

It was actually a great experience because the decorating of eggs on Saturday night was a trip down memory lane. I reunited with neighbors who once hosted this event when I was a kid. Eggs were dyed and a tradition lives on. 

4. Easter Vigil 

My wife and I attended the Easter Vigil mass at Our Mother of Sorrows at 8:30 PM. We did not take our children because we are not lunatics. The mass starts with a fire, leads to handheld candles, and ends 2+ hours later. We almost did not survive Dumbo so our girls have to wait a few years before Easter Vigil is in their wheelhouse. 

3. Easter Mass

Before 9:30 AM mass at Saint Michael's on Easter morning, our girls were in the pew, playing with toys, creating biblical scenes. At one point, Jesus, Peter, Buzz, and Woody were together in some sort of traveling discipleship. You can get away with this at Easter morning mass. It's cute. Easter Vigil? Not so much. 

2. Easter Nap 

They both fell asleep during mass. This was the most shocking moment of Easter. Did they already have a sugar crash? What did we do right? I thanked Jesus, Peter, Buzz and Woody as I held my 4-year-old. At the end of mass, my heart was full and my arms were numb. 

1. Rabbit Yard 

We hopped from house to house on Easter and the defining moment was watching kids in the midst of Easter hysteria. In a backyard on Coon Ridge Road, it was like the children's version of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Kids were wandering the yard, some talking to themselves. There was a kid climbing a tree. My oldest daughter was sitting on a large bouncy ball by a large pile of tree limbs. My youngest daughter was hunting for eggs with her hands behind her back, wearing sunglasses. It was overcast and she just wanted people to place chocolate in her mouth. There were random things to throw - oversized frisbee, football, and of course sticks. 

In the end, we made it back home. Easter exhaustion was upon us. Our living room, cleaned on Friday, was now a mess to make more memories. 

Balance

I'll get straight to the point. I am in a small group reading a small book of the Bible, Colossians, this Lent. I am a father of two small girls; the youngest turned 2 on Saint Patrick's Day. A colossal task - balancing faith and family.

I am going to write something that mankind has possibly never read; a comparison of Chapter 1 of Colossians to a 2-year-old's birthday party. Fatherhood and faith are both mysterious. And away...we...go...

For the Record

Colossians is in the New Testament. My first daughter, 4-years-nuts, does not want you to forget about her during this blog. Think of her as the Old Testament. Today, I attempted to serve her Cheerios, knowing that we were out of Honey Nut Cheerios. As soon as that first Cheerio hit her lips, it was over. "This is not Honey Nut", she declared. She did not yell. She declared.

I finished the boring, regular Cheerios. I finished them out of a tiny bowl with a tiny spoon with a big heart.

Gratitude Kickstart

The book of Colossians begins "We always thank God". The author, Paul, frontloads his writing with gratitude. My youngest daughter was grateful for all the buddies that came to her birthday party. Our house was fire hazard full. My wife and I are blessed with a small army of family and friends.

At one point during our basement bonanza, I sat beside my overwhelmed 2-year-old. Politely she asked, "Dad, do you want to go watch a movie?"

I politely explained we needed to party on. She did. Then, she slept from 6PM to 9PM. Then, she was up until 1 AM.

At 7 AM, I read Colossians. "We always thank God..."

Knowledge is Power

Paul goes on to declare (like a 4-year-old Cheerio connoiseur) that the knowledge of God grows. As my daughters have grown, I have learned from my ambitions and attempts. At this birthday party, I created an Irish Ninja Warrior circuit in our fire hazard full basement, believing at one point I could wrangle all the children, spread out all the adults, and announce an obstacle course for the ages.

I never even tried to wrangle. If all of those partygoers could have seen me the night before...walking alone in my basement...envisioning kids triumphantly pedaling through "Paint Can Alley" and ringing the bell on the toy food truck. I could hear the roar of the crowd.

Paul goes on to write in Colossians, "remain grounded and steadfast in the faith". Warriors shall rise. Just not now...not at this birthday bash.

I imagined Saint Patrick looking down on me, laughing at me, and saying, "I've seen a lot of people pull a lot of stunts on March 17th, but this idea is pure madness."

Move Forward

Paul ends the first chapter with the phrase, "striving with His strength that works powerfully in me". As I scooted around that birthday party, I felt deeply blessed. My marriage - my wife - has powered me for 5+ years; my kids have powered me for 4+years; my faith has evolved, and at times, needed refueled; the Bible is an unparalled spark.

The day after her birthday, I was pushing my 2-year-old on the porch swing. She had on pink sunglasses, a winter hat, and her trademark smile. With the sun beaming on her face, I could see through those sunglasses, her eyes tightly closed. Swinging in the wind, I captured a picture of her - peaceful, joyful, and beautifully 2.

Always thank God.

Buy Honey Nut.

Decision Time

Scattered across our table at the 2019 Chamber Annual Dinner, there were playing cards of Kevin Stevens, a key contributor on back-to-back Stanley Cup winning Pittsburgh Penguins teams. On the back of one of those cards, I scanned the statistics of a winger who often found the back of the net and himself in the penalty box. On the first Thursday of March, Kevin explained how the biggest penality of his life was self-inflicted.

Most hockey penalties lead to 2 minutes of alone time. As  Denis Lemieux from Slapshot so eloquently put it, "Two minutes, by yourself, you know and you feel shame, you know. And then you get free."  In 1,470 career penality minutes, Kevin Stevens was freed from the box each and every time. A 10 second decision to get high imprisioned Kevin for many, many years after his NHL days were over.

The addiction part of the story is familar, at least for me. The devastation caused by drug addiction is something I have heard, witnessed, and felt. Professionally, you get used to it; you understand it; you even get numb to it.

The recovery part of the story is the hope. The triumph of recovery is something I have heard, witnessed, and felt. Professionally, you get motivated by it; you understand it is possible; you even get hopeful everyone has a fighting chance. Hopelessness cannot exist.

Kevin Stevens talked brutally candid. Just like one of his checks into the boards, his words were raw and powerful. He recognized he got lucky - that he did not reach for that high when he was a teenager or in college; that addiction did not take his life; that a judge gave him a chance to give back instead of taking his freedom.

Fame brought Kevin to Johnstown to give this speech. His days as a Penguin spark his recovery story. Johnstown has always been a hockey town. Like every other town in our country, it is a recovery town too.

Stories about drug addiction bombard the news, much like how opiates bombard the brain. Addiction has a stigma. Recovery is a struggle. Kevin Stevens - to his credit - has taken that struggle and found purpose.

In our day-to-day struggles, hopefully we all find purpose; we all tell stories to uplift and listen to stories that bring hope.

Decide to be hopeful. Decide now. Pass it on.

February Top 10

February started with a dishonest groundhog and who knows how it will end. Based off of recent weather patterns, Johnstown could get rain, snow, sleet, or an asteroid. Alas, here is my Top 10 for what we have endured and what we have learned.

#10 "The Claw"

Inside our house, movie selection is a passionate enterprise. Often, our children make the selection and watch the same movie repeatedly in order to fully evaluate the cinematography. This film pattern could last months. Our soon-to-be-2-year-old is really into Toy Story at this point in her life, a movie she calls "Buzz". Woody would be so mad.

The most unrealistic part of Toy Story is the claw machine scene. Sid, evil neighbor child, goes 2 for 2 in extracting a toy from the claw machine. Has anyone ever gone 2 for 2 at the claw machine?  Not only does this set unrealistic expectations for children, it is fiscally irresponsible for parents. $1.00 for a 20 second attempt to capture a 75 cent stuffed animal? Also, that claw doesn't even shut. It's a loose handshake.

Multiple times during February I watched one dollar bills disappear. My children were left disappointed and I blamed Pixar for their disappointment.

#9  Lunar New Year

According to the Google calendar on my phone, February 5th was the Lunar New Year. I do not remember celebrating this event nor do I know what I would have been celebrating. I'm guessing it involves the moon and that we were watching Toy Story during this astronomical phenomenon.

#8  Parents O Plenty

My wife and I made a Sunday drive to Bedford during the 2nd weekend of February. Our children, bless their little hearts, were not in the Subaru. They were under grandparental supervision. Thus, my wife and I enjoyed a brunch at Horn O Plenty, an excellent farm to table restaurant. Eating meals with the kids at home is comparable to working on a farm; a lot of tools needed, it gets dirty and sweaty, and there is a surround sound of barnyard noises.

On this Sunday, we dined. It was quiet. It was clean. It was glorious.

#7 Billboard O Dear

On that same day trip, my wife and I were struck by a monstrous billboard in the Bedford sky. It asked, "Are you going to heaven or hell?" It had a number to call. I had so many questions. Who answers the phone? Do you just pick one or do you have to explain? Are results tallied? Does the person answering the phone have to share their answer?

Sometimes the best way to stay positive is to laugh - no matter where you think you are going to end up.

#6 "Galentine's Day"

My wife announced she was participating in a sexist movement known as Galentine's Day. I responded by letting her know I was having Dadentine's Day at home with the kids in protest. She went to Balance for spirits and spirited conversation amongst women. I held down the fort and explained to my girls how a man has to make fire in order to keep his family alive.

#5  Valentine's Day Breakfast

The next morning, my wife and I went to Flood City Cafe for breakfast and rekindled our romance. The warm glow of a fire was near our table. I did not start the fire, but I could have.

#4  Fitbruary

When fitness and February meet, you get Fitbruary. Just like Galetine, it's not a real word, but its catchy. My wife and I are still going yoga strong. On one February Saturday, I joined her for a yoga class at Crossfit Excursion in downtown Johnstown. I went from my private living room studio to a public realm of restoration. Thank you, Jill. It was fun, energizing, and made me want to come back for more. Our family will no longer be putting money into "The Claw" because we need to save cash for "The Crossfit". Sorry, kids. Namaste.

#3 Nonviolent Pinata

I had the pleasure of participating in a 4-year-old's birthday party at Hogue's Fun Factory. Doing a Crossfit workout would be a good parenting warm-up to entering Hogue's - seismic blast of colors, children everywhere, bouncy castles, bouncy pits, bouncy slides, and bouncy germs.

During the climactic end, there was a pinata - with pullstrings. I don't know who invented this change-up to the pinata challenge, but was a game changer:

Pinata Board Member: "I've been thinking about this a lot. Isn't it time to take the bat out of children's hands"

Pinata Board Member 2: "Why? What? That's the thrill. Swing the bat. Feel dangerous."

Pinata Board Member: "I think we are overselling the bat. It's the candy they want. Let's just pull some strings and get parents home."

#2 Nonviolent Warriors

My kids are really responding to American Ninja Warrior workouts inside our house. When the weather outside is frightful, ninja rampaging is so delightful. We roll on the floor, jump on pillows, do jumping jacks, yell, laugh, and cheer on Spring. In March, we hope to be in the backyard, getting grass stains and breaking twigs over our legs.

#1 Nonviolent Polish

This Saturday is Copernicus Night at the Boulevard Grill. It is a night to celebrate Poland and the achievements of Nicolaus Coperncius. It is a night to get a baby sitter. If you have no idea what Copernicus Night is, like the Lunar New Year, just get a baby sitter and drive to 165 Southmont Boulevard in Johnstown, Pennsylvania.

Next Friday will be March. It will be sunny and warm and the groundhog will regain some trust.

Yoga Man

5:00 A.M. is the best time for my wife and I to have 1-on-1 interaction. While it might sound like a startling conclusion, it actually was seized as an immense opportunity. With our children nestled or wrestling imaginary creatures in their beds, 5:00 A.M exploration was upon us!

Good morning, yoga with Adriene. So technically it is not 1-on-1 time. Since mid-December, my wife and I have turned on our smart TV to rise and shine with Adriene via YouTube. I stumbled upon Adriene after pitching to my wife the idea of living room yoga. We had done yoga together before, sporatically at different spots in Johnstown, but never on the carpet that our kids use as a picnic blanket. There is nothing like pivoting out of Warrior 1 and squashing a blueberry. 

Over a month into the practice, we are reaping the benefits. After one successful 30-day commitment, we have moved on to another yoga journey with Adriene. 5:00 A,M. has never felt so good. I have a friend who lives in Seattle and she recently wrote about her fitness path to explain and inspire. Following her lead, here are some things to think about in whatever 2019 journey you are on.

Open Door, Open Floor

"Yoga is not for me" has been uttered by many before. In all my masculine glory, yoga is for me. The man brain might be stuck on the idea that we must be hunters and gathers and pillage villages. Man do not roll out mat. Man do not Namaste. Man, child posture? Man is man. 

The only way to know if yoga is for you is if you try. While Adriene was not my first instructor, she has a welcoming and sometimes goofy approach to this ancient exercise. Her daily practices are often in the 15 to 30 minute range and run the gamut from calming to activating. On some mornings, when my wife and I chose to delay the 5:00 AM start, our kids joined the practice. A toddler can provide additional resistance when trying to do downward facing dog. Have you ever done a push-up with a 4-year-old on your back? It's exhilarating. Namaste. 

The Jolt

Yoga has provided a mind and muscle jolt that is different than any other exercise I have done. Running, weight lifting, and basketball have been my fitness trinity for most of my life. Now, in the heart of my Dad gauntlet, I imagine those three activities as a power triangle with yoga in the center. That last sentence is my first application of trigonometry since 11th grade. 

In our busy day-to-day challenges, especially for you parents out there, 15 to 30 minutes of mindfullness sounds a bit ludicrous. There have been points in my fatherhood where my mind seems full, bursting with worry and nonsense. I have come to appreciate that 15 to 30 minutes of yoga, combined with a commitment to my spiritual faith, has changed the game. 

The Dinner Dad

Dinner with a 4-year old and 1-year old is my 5th exercise. It does not appear on my triangle diagram because it's sloppy. While having a Looney Tunes supper this week, there was a whole lot of jibber jabber. A little bit of eye-spy. A lot of "I want out". At one point, I was shocked by my own posture. Blocking out all the noise around me, I had anatomical amazement . I was sitting on the edge of my chair in this upright, statuesque position. It was as if I was being added as the 5th man on Mount Rushmore. 

I turned to my wife and had her enter into my revelation. "Let's take a timeout from eye-spy and take a look at Dad's verterbrae" (I did not say this out loud, but I clearly tried to draw attention). I attribute this Dinner Dad moment to yoga. The stretching and bending and building I have done since December led to this January suppertime phenomenon. My girls were not impressed and continued to play suspect eye-spy. 

Accountability 

I have the luxury of having an enthuisastic partner on this yoga quest. There are a lot of hurdles to get over if you are just walking into a public yoga class as a lone wolf. In the comforts of my own home, my wife and I have been able to motivate each other in order to find our way onto the mat. Our only hope is that our daughters form some type of alliance for sleeping like my wife and I have for yoga practice. I think once our youngest turns 2 in March, everything will be sunshine and rainbows. This is what I imagine happening. Remember yoga is all about mindfullness:

4-year-old:  "Sister, now that you are 2, it is time that we commit to a sleeping pattern that centers on structured sleep times that maximizes our ability to play during wakeful hours and helps our parents live more productive and sane lives."

2-year-old:  "Sister, I concur with this strategic plan; however, I believe you have been identified as what I would call the "problem sleeper". I am not trying to place blame and I respect that you are the elder sister, but I want this alliance to be built on honesty and a pure heart."

4-year-old:  "Sister, I want to scream at you right now, but I shall resist. I have been watching my parents do this yoga practice and it has helped me calm my own inner-rage. I do testify to the fact that my sleeping pattern has been divisive. I appreciate your ability to express your feelings."

2-year-old: "Sister, that means a lot coming from you. I'd like you to lead with 'I have an idea' for this strategic plan. You are really good starting out sentences with 'I have an idea'. I'll buy what you are selling."

4-year-old:  "Sister, I have an idea. Let's go up to our rooms at 8PM, obviously without parental instruction, and read books on a nightly basis. Let's go to our separate chambers at 8:30PM, say our prayers, and recovene around 7AM the following morning."

2-year-old:  "Sister, I'm in. May I suggest Berestain Bears?"

4-year-old: "Sister, now you have gone too far. I'll pick the literary work. See you at 8."

Yoga has opened up a new reality in my life and allowed for fantasies such as this. 

Expand your mind and body, Johnstown. Namaste your way through 2019!

A 4-Year Education

Today is a graduation day. My oldest daughter is now 4. Since becoming a Dad, a true freshman, on January 10, 2015, I have learned a lot. There are a lot of crazy parts to parenting, but the craziest thing might be how much inner-change occurs once that baby comes out, looking like something from outer space.

The easiest way to look back on the last four years is through pictures - and we have a boatload of options. As for our second child, there are much less options - because she is our second child. It is not like we love her any less.  It is a natural phenomenon not to take as many pictures during Round 2.

Anywho, my favorite picture of our birthday girl is her gazing deeply at a butterfly. It was taken by her school teachers during her first month of 3-year-old academia. My love of nature and my love for her is captured in a beautiful moment - ambitious, young girl meets awe-inspiring butterfly. It brings a smile to this kid at heart; a message from Mother Nature and a growing girl to be forever young. 

Youth certainly does not last forever; however, kids at heart never graduate. They grow, and with each blessing, bump, and bruise, they grow stronger. And through it all, they take time to stop and appreciate the butterflies. 

It has been a terrific four years. If she was forever a three-year-old, I would be in the loony bin, seeing imaginary butterflies along side my loving wife, who would also be having butterfly hallucinations. 

I can't wait until I have two teenage girls and everything is so much easier.

Dad Movie Review: Malorie vs. Mary Poppins

I ended 2018 by watching two movies with a bombardment of interruptions, distractions, and fatigue. This is how I have watched almost every movie since becoming a father. Alas, here is my jumbled review of Netflix's Bird Box versus Disney's Mary Poppins Returns. 

Both of these films are new releases with established female stars. In this corner, we have Malorie, Sandra Bullock. I've watched her on a speeding bus, in outer space, and now, in apocalyptic terror. In this corner, we have Ms. Poppins, Emily Blunt. I've watched her try to take down the Mexican drug cartel, survive in silence as murderous creatures wander the Earth, and now, in a world of wonderment. 

Both films offer atmospheric phenonema. Malorie can't trust her eyes as sight becomes deadly. Children can't believe their eyes when Mary Poppins floats down from the sky with an umbrella. My children could not keep their eyes open for either film. For Bird Box, they simply were not allowed to view. For Mary Poppins Returns, they entered a world of snooze.

I finished both movies with my youngest daughter in my grasp. Bird Box took multiple viewings stretched over multiple days. In the end, I held her tight as the world looked as if it were coming to an end. For Mary Poppins Returns, I found myself dancing in the dark in the back of Westwood Plaza Theatre. She went from dance to drool as we bobbed around like there was no tomorrow. 

Both films are around 2 hours. Neither needed to be that long. As Malorie was desperately trying to live and Mary was lost in enchantment, I was trying to stay awake, while clinging to my child, and getting sweaty in the process. 

Water plays a big role in both films. Ms. Poppins turns bathtime into an aquatic adventure. Malorie heads toward raging rapids, but there is no singing. Some good old-fashioned yelling and screaming, but no singing. In our house, there is a daily mix of singing, yelling, and screaming.In fact, that's a guarantee. Spend a day with us and you get a musical, a drama, and horror show. 

My wife played a big role in both screenings. She was not featured in either film, however; she gave me time and consideration to watch Bird Box. For Mary Poppins Returns, her children fought over her like raging lunatics. That's when Dad had to swoop in and take the youngest to the back of the theatre. I did not want to upset any of the other theatre goers. "Excuse me sir, your wife is being mauled by your children, would you please save her."  

And finally, motherhood is critical to both plots. Malorie's identity shapes as the world falls apart; critical decisions must be made to protect her kids. Mary Poppins swoops in to help a family who misses Mom yet her spirit lives on. When in doubt, thank Moms. They are magical and make the world go round. 

 Cheers to more movies and mayhem in 2019. Survival of the fittest. 

Editor Note: We have too many umbrellas and none of them allow me to fly.