Cambria County Camel Community College (CCCCC)

Education has gone haywire. So, now is the perfect time to initiate and promote the Cambria County Camel Community College, a nonprofit adventure from my imagination. Throughout 2020 I have created Animal of the Day academia to stimulate the brains of my 5-year-old and 3-year-old daughters. Without further ado, here is my lesson plan and lessons learned from the last hoorah of our 2020 home schoolhouse. 

I prepared a camel dedicated day for the ages. Camels have survived the test of the time so let's get biblical to start. Camels are referenced in Genesis and travel throughout the Old Testament; the methodical wanderers of the desert. This humped herbivore has fascinated humans for centuries. The true test for this Dad was to capture the minds and hearts of two impatient, homebound pupils. 

I led with a cartoon "We Three Kings" video. Not exactly pump-up music, but seasonally solid and a clear visual honoring the camel. I quoted Genesis, "their camels carrying aromatic gum, balsam, and resin, going down to Egypt" and continued by identifying gold, frankincense, and myrrh as the first Christmas gifts. I was ill-prepared for my 5-year-old's questions. I did not put any research into balsam. I brushed off her interrogation with a simple summary: 3 dudes carrying good smelling stuff plus gold to Jesus. What does an infant do with gold?  He invests it. That's what he does. 

Onward to the first worksheet. Working together, my girls completed written work focused on the number 3 in honor of those traverse afar Kings. Upon completion, we watched a video clip that answered the question, "What is inside a camel's hump?" That weird mammal mound is not full of gold. It is actually a hump of fat. It is believed that a camel's hump can store up to 80 pounds of fat! This mini-mountain provides the fuel for camels to trek in some of the harshest places on Earth. 

For parents, school from home can be harsh. But out of the burden, a blessing has risen like that glorious camel hump. The experience has sparked my creativity. It has made me appreciate teachers now more than ever. And most of all, I got to spend time with my girls. Without leaving home, we traveled the world and learned about many of God's wild and wonderful creatures. 

If I told a camel 2020 has been like chewing on a cactus, the response would be: "Yum, sounds delicious". Just do the common Youtube search "camel eating a cactus" and watch prickly plant dining. Evolution and survival at its finest. Camels have developed the ability to chew through the pain in order to get nutrients that help sustain their desert marches. My girls were locked in to this sloppy and awkward meal. 2020 has been quite prickly and awkward. I'm determined to power through the prickly. We march on. Grateful for surviving. Ready for some 2021 thriving. 

Our next worksheet was focused on the number 2, representative of the sisterly schoolhouse bond. My girls have had heartwarming moments and coldblooded quarrels in this academic year. Tears of all kinds - sorrow, joy, delirium, laughter - have been shared by Mom, Dad, and children. Through it all, the number 2 stands strong. It takes 2 to make a marriage work. It takes 2 to overcome the quarrels and stick together when times get tough. It takes 2 to participate in a camel race. 

The mind-blowing apex of my camel curriculum was a BBC video on how present day, high stakes Arabian camels race. Imagine driving your car on the highway. A caravan of camels is speeding along side of you. You have a handheld radio trying to communicate with your favorite camel. You are still responsible for driving a vehicle. You look insane. Your camel hears you. He has a robot on his hump. You are a jockey in an SUV. You believe your camel can speed up. Lazy camel. Using your electronics, you can activate a whip on the robot. 

It is astonishing. Watch it. Even in the most ancient and remote locations on the planet, technology is taking over. Trying to find balance in the tech boom is not easy. It sometimes feels like I'm running in the middle of a camel caravan, on the verge of getting trampled by technology. I just got to keep my feet moving. Keep my family focused on the positive. Avoid being whipped by robots. 

Could you imagine if the 3 Kings had this option? 

First King: "Listen, I've been riding camels for years, I think its time we send the robots. Also, I think I'm allergic to myrrh."

Second King: "Agreed. If the robot can find the yonder star, I'm going to find the yonder couch."

Third King: "For the love of field and fountain, I don't even know who you guys are anymore"

In honor of robots taking over the world, my girls worked together to complete a color the number art project. The picture, a robot, went from colorless and lifeless to a rainbow symbol of sister power. With the adrenaline pumping, we transitioned to dance to an animated video of "Walk Like A Camel". Our living room became a camel night club. It got wonderfully weird. I hurt my lower back earlier in the week so my camel dances were authentic. My camel walk was not a choice. It was a sign that the sun is setting on my athletic prowess.

But, we all need humbled. Even, Yosemite Sam. Our final lesson of Cambria County Camel Community College was Yosemite Sam riding a camel...with a shotgun. For the record, I am not a certified teacher. Anyway, Sam is commanding his camel to no avail. He starts raging and bopping his poor camel in the brain. Meanwhile, Bugs Bunny is relaxing in a desert swimming pool. Sam is going berserk. His camel runs away. Shots are fired. Bugs laughs in the distance.

2021 is not that far away. This will be my last blog of the year. 6 months ago, I wrote a blog letter to 2020 hoping that the year would ease up. Looking back on it all, there have been many Yosemite Sam moments. Our family has had to wander the desert to find the Bugs Bunny paradise time and time again. 

I don't feel the need to write 2020 an end of the year letter. I just want to say "Thank You". 

And if paradise was easy to reach, then maybe it wouldn't be paradise. Sometimes you have to chew cactus and wash it down with a gallon of gratitude. 

My girls graduated from Animal of the Day School 2020. I'm proud of them. I'm proud of us. 

God Bless America. God Bless Camels. God Bless Robots.

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!

The Better Call

 At some point during 2020 we needed legal advice. Our lives had become a cluster and cyclone of chaos. We lost track of time and maybe our careers and sometimes our children. Bursts of enthusiasm were often followed by waves of disappointment. We tried to explain to our kids what we could not understand ourselves. If time was of the essence, we could not even define the word essence. The utterance of "new normal" was like an eternal hiccup. I, myself, have become vomitus to all that is virtual. 

And then we started binge watching Better Call Saul. The immense mission to get our children to bed was followed by a commitment to Saul Goodman, tormented and imperfect like all of us. While I often write about human connection, faith, family, and shared experience, sometimes you just need a good fictious lawyer. Escapism is the tendency to seek distraction and relief from unpleasant realities. Enter Saul, living in New Mexico, The Land of Enchantment. 

There is an undeniable harshness to what we are experiencing. Connection, faith, family and shared experience have been in a heavyweight fight with isolation, doubt, politics, and separation. And we never thought it would go this many rounds. Never thinking that the next calendar year would still cast this formidable shadow.

So, when I am watching Saul I know I am not making a difference. I'm not doing the world a lick of good watching Goodman. It could be argued I am wasting the time that is allegedly of the essence. I greatly wish to travel to The Land of Enchantment one day but for now I am relegated to recliner and dreaming. It feels safe. The phrase "abundance of caution" has become the nauseating spawn of "new normal". "Oh look honey, New Normal had her baby! She named her Abundance of Caution!" 

But, I think we all need to escape every now and then. We all need exit strategies to endure the unknown. Right now, my wife and I, have invested in Saul. We are on Season 2 and if you spoil anything I will be greatly upset. Let me stay enchanted and may my girls sleep through the night. 

And when they awake, I stand grateful for the sunrise. Am I happy that the Elf is back on the Shelf? No, no I am not. Am I growing impatient and insane? Yes, to impatient. Difficult to determine one's own sanity. 

For now, I'll watch Better Call Saul. I'll believe that there are better days ahead. I am blessed to live where I do with the people that I love. 

Stay strong, Johnstown. Goodnight. 

Nincompoop November

 Each day we try to take a moment and express gratitude. This family practice has occurred at the dinner table, at bedtime, and frankly anytime when opportunity strikes or memory serves. Recently, when asked the "What are you thankful for?"question my 3-year-old said without hesitation and with conviction...

"I am thankful for nincompoops."

And a blog was born. Here is the Top 10 Nincompoop Moments of this November:

#10  Hardhead Hardware

Last week I went to a hardware store to buy light bulbs. This was a welcoming opportunity to illuminate my social life. In 2020, light bulb shopping classifies as a social event. I got to converse with a teenage cashier. He asked me, "Do you want a bag?"  I said "Yes" with a little bit too much enthusiasm, as if I had been cave dwelling and this was my first light bulb. Then, I said something that I immediately regretted. After he bagged my bulbs, I blurted out, "AWESOME!"

Walking out, I was overcome with embarrassment. Did I just give a creepy smile to a high school kid, exclaim "AWESOME" and go on my merry way with fresh light bulbs? 

I was left to wonder what that kid thought of me and what has 2020 done to all of us. 

#9  The Zoom Boom 

On some weekdays, our 5-year-old is zooming from 8 to 10 A.M. Then, my 3-year-old zooms from 10:00 A.M. to 11:00 A.M. Then, my 5-year-old re-zooms at 11:00 A.M. Meanwhile, we, the parents, are attempting to eat/work/live/teach/battle. Our dining room is a minefield of worksheets, folders, crayons, scissors, snacks, passwords, glue sticks, actual sticks, and angst. We also received notice that our 5-year-old is expected to wear her uniform Monday-Thursday for Zoom academia. 

And to that I said profanity. 

#8  Casper Prayers     

At some point this year, we acknowledged that Casper the Friendly Ghost was eating supper with us. Since then, we pretend to hold his hand and allow him to join in giving thanks. 2020, the year of poltergeist prayer. Correction - we don't pretend to hold Casper's hand. We hold Casper's hand. Cold as ice. 

#7  Shawnee Showdown

On a gorgeous November Saturday, our family of four traveled to Shawnee Park in Bedford County. We participated in an impromptu 2-on-2 football game on the sand. Dad and 3-year-old vs. Mom and 5-year-old. There were illegal blocks, false starts, and a hip injury (Mom) that did not require medical attention because there was no one to give medical attention. 

Everyone won. Immediately after, I went for a run and left my ailing wife with our children. Survival of the fittest.  

#6   Bison Boom

On the way home from the Shawnee expedition, we stopped to see bison in Schellsburg. I believe there was a part of each us that wanted to run with the bison. To roam free, free from distancing and disease. Susceptible to trampling or being charged yet free. 

Maybe I was the only one daydreaming union with the bison. 

#5  Gutter Check 

My wife held the ladder while I cleaned the rain gutters. I cleared debris. While executing my task, she asked me if I cleared a path so the rain spout could do its job. I was perturbed by the question. "I'm not up here painting the Sistine Chapel." 

At no point did I say "AWESOME" when cleaning the gutters. 

#4  Gut Check 

My wife and I attended an outdoor mass at Our Mother of Sorrows on a November Sunday. Our children stayed at their grandparents' sanctuary. The sun shined on a socially distanced lawn of Christians. I admired a family of 5 as they prepared for mass. Lawn chairs folding. Conversing. Children crawling on grass. And then, the Dad almost tripped on one of the crawlers. It was a Looney Tunes sequence where the Dad buckled and then did this heroic Dad acrobatics to avoid crushing his offspring. Blindside shot from a toddler. 

I prayed for them and was grateful that our kids were not with us. Amen. 

#3 Sic'em on a Chicken

There is a song by Zac Brown Band called Sic'em on a Chicken. It is a ballad, a power ballad, on the pursuit of a chicken. We've summoned this song in times of need. Under the light of the moon and the warmth of a fire, we danced wildly on our back patio to Sic'em on a Chicken. 

A family of 4 brought to life by a song describing the death of a chicken. 

#2  Zimbabwe 

I have an alter-ego named Professor Diddums. I have been making up educational lessons for my girls since March when the virus hit the fan. I had to step my game back up in November after months of relying on traditional schooling. I was particularly proud of my lesson plan centered on the letter "Z". We learned about zebras, our 12th President Zachary Taylor (was not a Republican or a Democrat), and we each colored the national flag of Zimbabwe. 

Take that Zoom. While you locked us in our house, we learned that Zimbabwe is landlocked. Eat your heart out. 

#1  Happy Thanksgiving 

My 3-year-old does not know what nincompoop means. It is a funny word and who knows where she first heard it. She does have an understanding of what happy means. I hope her growing brain is full of happy moments from 2020. I think we have done our best to emphasize happiness and gratitude. We will Sic'em on a Turkey this Thursday. 

And if the 4 of us are together, I'll be happy. 

Happy Thanksgiving, Johnstown. 

Express gratitude daily - somehow, someway. 

What Counts

One of the breakthrough moments of childhood is learning how to count. In adulthood in the United States of America, we have taken counting to new ridiculous heights. We are counting in-person and by mail and by conspiracy theory and by the hour and getting updates by the hour even when there are no updates to give. Adults are outbabbling toddlers from coast to coast in a sleep deprived annoyance that is all too familiar.  

For the record, The Count, resident of Sesame Street, is the best representative of this great nation. When the 2024 election rolls around, I want The Count Live, counting every single vote. I don't care if it takes 2 days, 2 weeks, or 2 months. He will announce each and every vote with joyous and rhythmic patriotism. With no affiliation and a pure love for counting, there will be no controversy. He just counts. Every network and every website and every social media platform is restricted until The Count is done counting. All eyes and ears on The Count. We don't need opinions, predictions, projections, and red and blue maps. 

Absurd? Considering what has transpired in 2020, I think this is realistic. In fact, it is brilliant if I could highjack mass media, ensure one unbiased voice, and subject the populous to simplicity. 

And if there is one thing kids get right, it is being simple. And if there is one thing adults get wrong, it is being simpletons, which by definition, centers on foolishness.

First, we are all winners today. We all wake up winners tomorrow. We live in the United States. Yes, we are divided, but "our" here is a blessing that bypasses so many adults and strikes so many children. My daughters gleamed over seeing a herd of bison today off of Route 30. Were the bison social distancing? No. Did my 3-year-old want to jump the fence and enter their herbivore world? Yes. 

Kids do not define their existence by a person. Or a party. Or a social media account. At least not at the age of my youngsters. I do fear that Faceplant, Instabook, and TockTic will slowly and painfully eat the innocence of youth like ravenous zombies, but this is Positive Johnstown...we shall overcome!

So, this blog is for the kids too young to read blogs. Too young to give a flying squirrel about what I have to say. Too young for left/right, Democrat/Republican, and anything other than macaroni and cheese. Let the good kids of this earth pee their pants while the grown ups poop on each others' political parties. 

And adults do not need to grow up. They need to go back. Go back to experience. Go back to wonder. Go back to an identity shaped by love and learning. 

But, as the bison graze, "we" will undoubtedly babble and bite each other in the field. And it would be offensive to say that in doing so "we" are acting like children. 

Children are still learning. Let's show them "we", the adults, can still learn too. 

To understand that division is not final. That a President - no singular person - defines us. 

The Count, 2024. 

Count your blessings. 

God Bless America. 

 

Vine Vote

 On a recent nature walk, our family discovered a vine that towered into the October sky. It was rooted in the earth and extended beyond our vision; lost in a mix of branches and clouds. From the trail it was conceivable to grab a hold of this Tarzan swing and entrust momentum and Mother Nature. Dad had to try it first. If anyone is going to plummet into the brush, it is Dad. 

While Pennsylvania has been labeled a swing state, our family has swung beyond the reach of the hoopla and hysteria. I recently had a daydream where the next debate was a 90 minute commercial-free recording of a donkey and an elephant. Literally, a donkey and an elephant in the same room. There would be no moderator and no understandable communication (identical to the first debate). I would add a frog (Green Party) just for leaps and giggles; an hour and a half of watching three animals coexist. Probably would have more educational value. 

The value of the vine has multiplied in recent weeks. We've done some combo swings. My 5-year-old braved the autumn air. My Dad reminisced of vine days gone by and then did the vine himself. I've been mid-air and have had trail walkers stunned to see a flying man of the forest. I've had friends reach out and give it a shot. My wife swung out and then took to social media to spread this seasonal swing. 

Of course, there is danger in all of this - much like anything you do on social media. I'm less concerned about the vine snapping and more concerned about human beings typing, losing their minds, and snapping. My platform is to get off the platform. Grab a hold of the vine and appreciate what each day has to offer. Soul search over fact check. 

And that my friends is an individual decision. I'm grateful to have a mind beyond that of the elephant, donkey, and Kermit. The vine has reopened my world to the innocence and splendor of youth. Health - physical, emotional, mental, spiritual - is what counts. Mother Nature has no party or agenda. Flying Dads can unite with flying squirrels without judgement. 

When my oldest daughter completed her first vine adventure, it was just me and her little sister on that trail watching with pride. At the peak of her airborne excitement, she gave us a miraculous smile. I'll hold on to that image for as long as I can. She has grown into a tremendous young lady in a year full of the tiresome and the old. Together - a young lady and the vine - they are the hope. A generation of youngsters who will shape the landscape with wonder and wisdom, out of sight much like that vine lost in the clouds. 

With Halloween and the election closing in, there is a lot to be scared of from poltergeist to presidential. To Johnstown and to the world at-large, I encourage you to not zombie walk into November. Find a vine. 

Reach out and make a memorable experience. Surround yourself with good people. Take time to smile and laugh. Be grateful for the smiles and laughs that swing back in your direction. 

Summer 2020 Top 10

The 2020 summer...a strange season to say the least. While summer extends a few more weeks into September, here is the Top 10 recap to the pandemic bizarro dog days of 2020:

#10: SWIM

As land dwellers, pandemic life demanded cannonballs. In my existence, 2020 might have been my record year for cannonballs. Weary of trying to cut through the national tension, I simply jackknifed into an underwater eutopia, free from the frenzy. Our kids swam like fish and we perfected animal impressions into our aquatic world. I greatly enjoyed morphing into a penguin, a flamingo, a rhinoceros, and a frog and teaching my daughters how to be their best beast. Becoming a wild animal was the perfect release from being a wild human being living in this wild society. 

#9: ZOOM

Zoom, by definition, is to "move or travel very quickly". Our kids are zooming through their childhood and it is a sight to behold. They have developed a sisterly chemistry that at times feels impenetrable. Hours later, they are in a full-fledged civil war that requires a third party treaty. In playtime and wartime, they have each other and we have them. From a safe haven to a madhouse, our house still stands. And when times got extremely tough, we pitched a tent in the backyard and lived together in even tighter isolation. 

#8: RUN 

There can be a solution-focused notion to running. I can't solve the world's problems or my problems in New Balance shoes, but it is more productive than the combo of couch and social media. As an assistant cross country coach, I have observed how running brings people together. As a Dad, I have observed how imagination and feet move together. And while I have missed the community races that have been the backbone to my kinetic energy, it has been a welcomed challenge to keep running through the 2020 gauntlet. 

#7: HIKE

John Muir once said, "Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees". John did not directly tell me that. He died in 1914. I googled John and thought this quote would bolster the "hike" paragraph.

And, wouldn't it be nice if everyone spoke and googled with good tidings? John lived in a different world. He got out the year World War I started. John did not do any online searching. He did forest searching. He was standing amongst the trees searching and theorizing the therapeutic nature of nature. 

I would like to think he would have enjoyed watching my girls lead friendship brigades into Stackhouse Park and to the Staple Bend Tunnel this summer. Being surrounded by trees has been a great defense from being swarmed by the buzz and the sting that is news. 

#6: HUNT

In the forest and in the streets, our summer troop has come up close with creatures. Salamander and crayfish catching in the creek. Coyote howls at night. A neighborhood praying mantis. We traveled to Elk County to social distance from humans and social connect with elk. From snake sights to crab chases, it was a summer full of animals. 

#5: GOLF

As if there were not enough rules for golf, 2020 marked the year when the rule book added a testament. You can only ride in a cart with someone who lives in your household. The flag stick is stuck. The hole is lava. The greens are not so green. Golf had to persevere through drought, health crisis, and of course, terrible golfers. 

My wife and I did sporadic golf dates throughout the summer. My favorite memory is in a couples scramble against no one we birdied a Par 5. I sunk a putt as fire truck sirens blared and a wolfhound cried out into the August evening. It required concentration and an appreciation for the absurd. 

We smiled as I scooped that ball out of the lava. The putt and the noise were a perfect marriage to encapsulate 2020, a loud and silly year. 

#4: CREATE

Two thumbs up to art. As parents scramble to try to figure out what to do with the children they produced, the production that is art has a place in the 2020 mind bender. One of our first public appearances of the summer was at a Bottleworks event where our kids got to paint eggs, play drums, and watch a man carve wooden whistles. It was an indoor/outdoor opportunity to create and reinforce the majesty of hand sanitizer.  

#3: GROW

On most birthdays, my wife and I prefer a shared event over a wrapped gift. Well, 2020 threw a real wrench into going anywhere. So, I bought the love of my life a popcorn plant at the newly opened SEADS Garden Center in Westmont. I know what your thinking - "what a guy" and "what is a popcorn plant and is it buttered?". 

So, here is how the story goes. I wander into SEADS with no plan. The owner observes my clear lack of flora and fauna knowledge. He instructs me to touch a plant and then smell my hand. Typically, I don't follow stranger instructions to touch and smell, but at this point, I'm a desperate husband in a pandemic. Amazingly, my hand smells like popcorn and I have not been poisoned. 

Today, the popcorn plant stands tall in our front yard. I think our marriage is stronger because of it. At one point, we had the praying mantis we found on the popcorn plant. I was so excited and took a lot of pictures. 

I am getting old. 

#2: SHOOT THE HOOPS

Basketball has been the most influential sport of my life. When my 3-year-old called basketball "shoot the hoops" I knew I had a star in the making. Additionally, I am a highly acclaimed assistant "shoot the hoops" coach for a kindergarten-2nd grade co-ed team. The best way for me to describe this level of sporting is a deranged stampede of wildebeest with an orange ball.

There is a great scene from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest where lunatics participate in an outdoor "shoot the hoops". Just watch that scene and pretend everyone is 5-years-old. 

#1: LEARN

If you haven't learned something this calendar year, you probably should just go "shoot the hoops" in an asylum. Through all the stress, frustration, confusion, and disappointment, I am determined to learn my way out of this. Without a doubt, there is a stampede of negativity that is out to trample. Instead of choosing sides or joining a judgmental juggernaut, zoom by ignorance. Follow Dory's lead and "just keep swimming". Get outdoors and grow. Run with the positive pack. Create experiences that give our kids- all kids- hope. 

Autumn is around the corner. Finish the 2020 summer strong. 

Goodnight, Johnstown. 

 

Kitchen Conversations

I decided to talk to characters I found in my kitchen this Saturday. It is raining. Life is strange. Thus, I decided...to talk to characters I found in my kitchen. Social isolation has led me nowhere and led me here. Think of it as a beautiful mess or don't think at all. I used quotes because everything written below is absolute truth from the source, like Wikipedia or CNN or Fox News or The Onion or Sesame Street. Believe everything. Believe nothing. Ok, here we go...

Trix Rabbit

"Silly rabbit? Let's reevaluate who is silly. In fact, from now on call me Serious Hare with a capital H. What are people doing? Have you been hanging out with the Cocoa Puffs bird? I've never experienced anything like this and I've been around awhile. Did you know I celebrated my 60th birthday last year? Remember 2019? It will be remembered as the year before everyone went coo coo. 

Anyway, I'm thinking about running for President. Tony the Tiger is going to be my running mate. Literally, he loves to run. And, he has a habit of saying 'They're Grrrrrrrrrrreat', which apparently is a no fail way to build a base amongst you humans. Also, guess who would be the youngest candidate? 61 years young, kids. 

Silly people, vote Serious Hare."

Sun-Maid Raisin Lady

"Good day. On my box it clearly reads 'Timeless and Trusted'. If there is anything California can count on, it is my Golden Raisins. In fact, what else on this earth is 'Timeless and Trusted' at this point? The only answer is my smiling face and the beaming sun behind me. If that sounds like the words of an egomaniac grape goddess, it is. 

Do you know I am a cartoon creation of a real woman who was born in 1892? Look it up on Wikipedia (100% accuracy rate). My supreme confidence is from the fact that I have zero grams of added sugar and the same number of competitors. No one can compete with my raisins. And I don't talk about them being great because I don't have to. I pick the grapes. I bronze my body in the sun. I am loved. 

William Taft was president when I started. Not a big raisin fan. Big, but not a big raisin fan. He probably would have enjoyed my Chocolate Yogurt Covered Raisins. Sorry Taft, didn't have those in 1912. 

Once again, good day and I am loved."

Charlie The Tuna

"For those of you who don't know me, I'm the Starkist Tuna. I have glasses, a funny red hat, and I represent 'wild caught' tuna fish that somehow is squeezed into tiny pouches. The squeezing into the pouches is not done in the wild. It is done somewhere in Ecuador or maybe Pittsburgh, but not right by the water source. I think. Who knows? Who cares?

I'm sure there is a reason my name is 'Charlie', but again it goes back to not caring. This pandemic has really taken a lot out of me. I've not been sleeping well and I actually took my hat off for the first time since the end of the Vietnam War. 

I respect the ambition of the hare and the grape lady, but I'll be honest. I'm tired. I don't want to run for anything. One, I can't. I swim. Two, like I previously stated, I'm tired. 

I do have one thing to say before I go back to bed. Don't buy the StarKist Tuna Creations flavored as 'Ranch'. That is the purest form of disgusting. 

Kodiak Cakes Bear

"I am the last interview and the least famous of the four. I'm from Park City, Utah and I make 'power cakes' for flapjacks and waffles. I think at one point in time I could have been marketed as 'All-American' but we might hibernate on that for now. My box talks about the frontier and axes. The photo of me on the box is gorgeously vicious. Just add water and I roar into your belly. 

It sounds like there is a lot of roaring out there in that society of yours. I'll try to help you power through, but you can't eat your way though this. Too many flapjacks make Fat Jacks. 

Seriously? C'mon, that was a joke. I'm a kodiak bear selling pancake mix. Please don't overeact. Okay, you already put it on social media. Wow, that was quick. 

Well, I'll just read the side of my box and move on: 'Kodiak Cakes flapjack and waffle mix is meant for those of us who, like the rugged pioneers exploring the untamed wilderness, require nutrition, energy, and great taste to successfully navigate today's frontier'

What do you require? I recommend to pack your life with positivity, to treat everyone like you want to be treated, to share love, and laugh with those you love the most."

Dear 2020,

Dear 2020,

I'm celebrating your halfway point tonight. You have been relentless. Remember what we did on Day 1 together? We were in Walt Disney World. Magic Kingdom. By the end of March, you know where I was? Mayhem Kingdom. Jasmine did not prepare me for this Whole New World. A world where there is no school and no play dates. If I'm wearing a mask in October, it better be for Trick-or-Treat and Trick-or-Treat only.

My 5-year-old knows a song with "quaratine" in the lyrics. How does that make you feel, 2020? Innocence of youth vanished like toilet paper. You know what one of her most embarassing moments was in this calendar year? A 4-year-old knew what coronavirus was and she didn't. I guess I'm the bad parent, 2020. Sorry, I didn't even know what the word pandemic was until this year. I want to go back to simpler times. Like in 1999, when our biggest concern was the Mayan calendar ending civilization.

Oh, and as for our 2-year-old, she turned 3 on Saint Patrick's Day. You know who was going to dress up like a leprechaun at her sister's school and leave a childhood memory for the ages? Me. And that didn't happen. But, you know what did happen? My 3-year-old still pees the bed and I blame you. You messed up everyone's sense of timing. We are lucky we know what day it is anymore. Today is Tuesday. Taco Tuesday. We got them from Taco Chellz, a new restaurant in town. They were delicious. Oh yeah, you tried to doom small businesses and force families to eat together at their dining room tables.

You also have made us even more dependent on technology. Yes, I'm writing on a blog that is posted online. I get it. But, Instagram can be Instagone. Twitter, fly away. Everyone is on an online opinion rampage. Saving grace- America's Got Talent is back. The nightly news, aka America's Got Problems, will be drowned out by four people judging others. 2020, we crave judgement.

Yes, this is Positive Johnstown. I'm trying to provide some laughs. Don't be so serious. Have a sense of humor. I've got an arsenal full of gratitude and I'll unleash it every step of the way until 2021. I know we have a long way to go. Don't worry about who I am voting for in November. If I had to do it today, I'd write in Santa Claus and slam dunk a chocolate chip cookie. If there is one person I want in the oval office, it is that big, fat, jolly man...or Mrs. Claus. Doesn't matter. Either of the Claus.

Tomorrow is July. I'm inviting Santa for a Christmas in July party at our house. I don't know if our friends will be allowed to come, but whatever. Santa can come. His beard is pretty much a mask anyway. Maybe, I'll bring this full circle and invite Mickey Mouse. Maybe he can be the VP...or Minnie Mouse. Doesn't matter. Either of the Mice.

Well, 2020, I'm signing off. Ease up a bit for the second half. I'll speak for all of humanity when I say, relax. I can't tell if you've gone fast or slow, but you've gone in an utterly bonkers direction.

I hope this blog finds you well. I hope you "like" my blog. If you don't "like" it, please don't go on one of those judgement rampages. It is not doing the world any good.

I'll write to you again in six months. Peace be with you.

Pandemic DMV

On Tuesday, June 16, 2020, I arrived at the DMV to renew my expired driver's license. I arrived at 8:29 AM, one minute prior to the opening of the door and the onset of emotion. Here is the pandemic play-by-play:

8:29 AM:  Sun is shining. There are 31 people standing in line. The person in first place is a man in scrubs. We shall remember him as "Sunrise Scrubs".

8:31 AM: I call my wife to simply exclaim that 31 people had beat me to this position in life. Without saying much, she tells me she is trying to take care of our two children and simultaneously be a business woman. Stand your ground.

8:40 AM: I realize that without a hat I am vulnerable. "Sunshine Stephenson" burns easily. I plead for mercy to the family of three behind me. They vow to save my spot in this procession of angst. I jog to my Subaru as if walking would be disrespectful to my fellow Pennsylvanians. I emerge with my "Dad hat", an UnderArmor snapback that only a Dad can wear. Perfect for the DMV.

8:45 AM: The family of three behind me are here for a driver's license test. A teenage girl and her parents in the ultimate heat - driver's test, spicy morning, pandemic...torturous theatre in this final week of spring. I drift back in time and remember my parallel park - the worst parallel park to pass in the history of our nation.

8:50 AM: A woman who presumably works in this box of a building greets the disgruntled. She is pleasant and I give her great credit. To be the "pump up DMV spokeswoman" is no walk in the park. She politely asks why each of us is here. Loaded question. Loaded question.

8:55 AM: I have random conversations with my band of brothers and sisters regarding the "Real ID". I determine I just need my face on a card. I don't care what the classification as long as it is not a "Fake ID". I have a Zip-Lock bag of items that my wife handed to me. It was like when a child is handed their brown bagged lunch except mine has a checkbook, documents I don't understand, a passport, and nothing to eat.

9:00 AM: I'm still outside but the promise of shelter feels more real. I am still not sure if I am going to get a "Real ID" at this point. I learn that you can't actually get the "Real ID" in this box of a building today. You can apply for it and then do some World Wide Web magic. I think then a magician delivers the "Real ID" to your house and pulls it out of a hat. Not a "Dad hat". One of those tall black hats that Abraham Lincoln once wore. President Lincoln never had to get a "Real ID".

9:10 AM:  I am inside. There is no turning back now. I get my ticket. The DMV ticket is not something you typically equate with victory, but it feels like a Super Tuesday with it in my hand. With mask on, I wait for my time to come.

9:15 AM: I am chosen. It is like the scene from Toy Story when the alien is selected by the claw machine. Your life has purpose. Your destiny awaits.

9:16 AM: This guy is talking so fast. I'm digging into my Zip-Lock. He asks me if I am here for my "Real ID". Stunned, I thought that was not an option. He explains more. I'm still elbow deep in my Zip-Lock. He can validate documents behind his shielded supreme station and then can grant me passage IF I have everything I need. He seems confident I have what I need considering the depth of my Zip-Lock.

9:21 AM: Validated. He says, "Make sure you have everything you came in here with." I can't do that because I don't know what I came in here with.

9:23 AM: Phase 2. Same ticket. New claw machine calling. Wait to be called. New room. Wear the same mask, except for the picture. I thought it would have been hilarious if Governor Wolfe declared everyone had to wear masks for their photo ID. First, safety first. Second, the DMV worker doesn't have to say, "Smile for the camera." Everyone wins.

9:26 AM: The picture taker thanks me for being an organ donor. Internally, I thank my internal organs. I accepted this award on behalf of my kidneys, heart, and brain.

9:29 AM: I smile as if I am getting struck by lightning. It has been one epic hour. I am lighting up this ID with crazy eyes and a smile that radiates stronger than the morning sun.

9:32 AM: A man hands me my new license and I am expected to confirm the facts. I just look at the picture and say "all good". This is not my "Real ID". He tells me to exit out the door to the left.

9:33 AM: I walk through the waiting room like a champion. I miss the exit door.

9:33 AM: I pivot and walk back toward the exit like Bashful. I see the sun through the door.

I should have jogged back to my car. I was satisfied, relieved, and ultimately still confused about the "Real ID". With my "Dad hat" on, I realized that satisfaction, relief, and confusion might be the three primary emotions of parenting. Think of them as the green, yellow, red of being responsible for another human being.

I hope I never forget this DMV experience. I hope I never forget my parallel park.

My only "real hope" is for my brain to take home the greatest award of all...

Lifetime Achievement.

Dear Graduates

Geneva Preschool Graduates:

On Sunday, May 31, 2020, you stood in cap and gown under a glorious setting sun. You were blessed with a beautiful evening to celebrate academic achievement. Your ceremony would be streamed, tagged, liked, and dispersed across a wondrous web. Ultimately, you, the class of 2033, landed on Youtube, the social media moon. 

However ... orbiting around your celebration is a country in turmoil. As the ten of you said the Pledge of Allegiance, we, the adults, had to ponder if our nation is in fact "one". Standing like a constellation, you boys and girls looked indivisible. You sounded ready and unafraid. And happy. And maybe you can go out and seek justice for all. But, for now, just be kids. For now, just seek your hiding friends. 

Chase birds. It is much more thrilling than living your life tweet by tweet. Also, chase dreams. Your childhood super power is the gift of impenetrable dreams. Those dreams should never be politicized or criticized. And, even if they are, build character by continuing the chase. Get after it. 

On your graduation night, each of you introduced your "Name Song". Your name matters. Your life matters. All life matters. Keep singing. Spread positivity one note at a time. The music you made tonight drowned out the noise that all too often bombards our adult brains. 

And I would be a fool not to recognize and celebrate your teachers. Their efforts over the last few months were nothing short of heroic. No one could have predicted how this school year played out. They provided cheer and direction when the world was confused and lost. They used a technology called Zoom to educate and jack you up on ice cream before bed. One of your teachers sprang up like Michael Jordan in an attempt to save a balloon from entering the atmosphere on this last hoorah. She came oh so close in an "Air Jordan" for the ages. 

I watched that balloon disappear into the sky. It happened fast. Growing up happens fast too. Make a pledge to each other to enjoy the summer; to spend time with those you love; to continue your education somehow someway, each and every day. Keep what you want. If I were you, I would hold on to faith and a sense of humor. That just might keep you indivisible after all. 

Cassidy. Maggie. Julianne. Arya. Lincoln. Maria. Wyatt. Alex. Reed. Lily. Congratulations.

Strike Up the Band!

Music is an unstoppable force. When venues shut down, bands play on. When tours get postponed, voices can still be heard. Creativity and technology are and orchestra of resiliency.

Some of my initial memories as a father are driven by music - singing to my first daughter on the rocking chair; pump-up music for a Saint Patrick's Day induction for Daughter #2; "Happy Birthday" choruses as those two girls have reached new heights.

Our "Animal of the Day" home school graduation led to "Music May". It was time to rock out some education. Throw out the lesson plans and let it rip. "Animal of the Day" academia was a rigorous and ambitious fatherly effort to provide learning and laughter. There was little planning to Music May, Volume 1. Like a Greatest Hits album, this is the soundtrack of our pandemic lives.

Day 1 - drums. We powered up with percussion from one of the greatest drummers of all-time - Animal. This muppet plays a mean drum. We watched a Youtube video of Animal battling Dave Grohl from Nirvana and Foo Fighters fame. Muppet and man got this party started.

In the mid-90s, children were blessed with The Animaniacs. I remember coming home from school and adventuring with Wakko, Yakko, and Dot. The theme song was pure brillance. Our school covered the saxophone and The Animaniacs theme song line, "Dot is cute and Yakko yaks, Wakko packs away the snacks, while Bill Clinton plays the sax, We're An-i-man-iacs!"

Deliverance is not a family film. The dueling banjo scene from 1972's Deliverance was wonderfully weird for our family. I have to be the first person on Earth to Youtube search for "Animaniacs theme song" and "Deliverance" in a 24-hour span..or maybe in a lifetime span. Banjo night ended with a video of dueling banjo skeletons. Even the dead duel with banjos!

Local Facebook live music has been integral to survival. The Evergreens, Lux and Company, and A Girl Named Tom have blessed our home with sounds and sights. The Evergreens have taken us on a musical tour through the decades. Lux and Company has provided a combination of comedy and melody. And A Girl Named Tom sang to us, from their living room to ours. But, it doesn't stop there.

I have heard my daughter's preschool teachers singing over Zoom to a choir of 4 and 5 year olds. On Sunday mornings we watch Our Mother of Sorrows mass and sing uplifting songs of salvation and faith. John Krasinki has captured the power of music on his show SGN - Some Good News - with musical scenes from across the country or adding music to pictures and videos of triumph over tragedy.

There is only one way to move - forward. So, as we do, strike up the band. Sing your heart out. Capture the moment in song. If you have a banjo, duel. In a recent small group spiritual discussion, again using technology to connect, we talked about the certainty of death and the uncertainty of it all.

I'm not sure if I will one day be a skeleton playing a banjo, but I am determined to live, love, and laugh my way forward. I am grateful for all the musicians who keep music alive.

Johnstown - fill your home with positive lyrics. World, please don't stop the music or in the words of Journey, "Don't Stop Believing" or in the words of Animal:

"YAHAYAHAYAHAYAHA me love the drums!"

Graduation Day

We decided that May 1st would be the Animal of the Day School Graduation Ceremony. Well, I decided that. I have never experienced anything like the past month and a half.

On Saint Patrick's Day, my youngest daughter turned 3. We had a small gathering at our house to celebrate her contributions to the world and to Ireland. Then, s*** got weird. First, profanity and a pandemic go together. I didn't even know what the word pandemic meant until 2020. And I know now that it is scientifically proven that parental profanity quadruples in a pandemic. During a recent rivalry with my wife while watching Jeopardy, I was swearing like the Navy's worst sailor. My kids were present. I was locked into Trebek while my wife was steamrolling me in Double Jeopardy.

Here are some of the other lessons learned.

#1: An adventurous heart cannot distance.

On Monday we learned about squirrels. My 5-year-old and I took our binoculars onto the Brownstown streets to find acorn fanatics. My youngest daughter was invited but she declined in an unappreciated hostile tone. Her rebellion was countered by the elder sister's gusto. Her blonde hair was flowing in the wind. She was instantly captivated by the promise of finding a squirrel.

This simple mission - find a squirrel - was a result of having to simplify. I will cherish those fifteen minutes for all my days. We weren't looking for an endangered species. We weren't doing anything historic. But, we were doing it together. This sudden change in daily living has made me appreciate the little things. The little things are huge.

We found a chipmunk, a member of the squirrel family. I've found so much more over the past six weeks. Thanks, daughters. You are my adventure.

#2: We all have garbage.

Tuesday was Raccoon Day. These bandits are much more than garbage thieves. Known as nocturnal foragers, they do what it takes to survive - even if that requires trashing your trash. April was an emotional garbage heap. Trying to sort through this mess has not been easy. What has made it easier is knowing that an entire community of people across the planet is in the same heap. Not the same boat. Don't get in a boat right now. Wait it out. Just be you in your garbage.

Garbage and Namaste both have 7 letters. Coincidence? I think not.

#3: This stinks and it is funny.

Social isolation stinks. Skunks stink. Wednesday was Skunk Day. We watched an incredible video of a Flagstaff, Arizona skunk who got his head stuck in a yogurt container. I use "his" because only a man skunk could do something so idiotic. A woman skunk would have used a spoon. Police officers were called to the scene. The skunk was blindly running in circles in a parking a lot.  Spoiler alert - the yogurt was expired.

Spoiler alert - the police officers freed the skunk and did not get sprayed!

I would have never looked up "skunks" on Youtube before this health crisis. Laughing is not a virus cure, but it is epic medicine.

#4: The best defense is hope.

The final video of our Animal of the Day series was from Planet Earth 2. It was the astonishing footage of a baby iguana against all odds. Separated from family, the iguana knows it is surrounded by snakes. The snakes have horrible vision. Freeze. The best shot at staying alive is to stay still. That is until a serpent gets too close. Run like h***.

As a family we cheered on the iguana. I knew the outcome. My kids and wife did not. You could feel the living room tension. It is only about 30 seconds of survival, but it feels like an eternity. The iguana freezes, fights, and flights. Survives.

I don't know what the outcome of this pandemic will be. I do know that the last six weeks has been a blessing. I've learned from my wife, my daughters, and the animal kingdom. On Graduation Day, we did what we do best. We got real weird.

We went into our basement. We turned off the lights. We got out balloons. We rocked out to Metallica's Enter Sandman. If you thought Animal of the Day School was going to end with a keynote speaker and "happy tears" you need to get your s*** together.

Mic drop.

We start Music May School next week.

Metallica Monday!

Zoo Keeping: Week 5

We had quite the week in our abode academy. The range of emotions this month has been a gauntlet - April showers of joy, frustration, and confusion. The one constant - prioritizing physical activity. Keeping the kids and us parents moving has been critical to maintaining sanity. Also, it ensures that I won't have to go out and buy new shorts for the summer. Alas, with an emphasis on physical education, here is the week that was:

We leaped into the school week with Frog Monday. First off, the amount of frog material I had at my disposal was ludicrous - lily pads worth of amphibian resources. The only resource I needed for the frog race was the neighbor's hillside - thank you neighbor. My daughters and I hopped down the hill with no true finish line. My 3-year-old morphed from frog to woman and finished the activity on two feet. My 5-year-old did some sort of froggy Army crawl. Be all that you can be, frog.

Rhino Tuesday was a super charged event because it coupled with a Zoom ice cream party. Let me rewrite that sentence - Rhino Tuesday was a super charged event because it coupled with a Zoom ice cream party. Bonkers.

Do you know what else is bonkers? There is a white rhino and a black rhino and they are both gray. Thanks, scientists. I'm not certified in teaching or science, but who named these monstrous creatures? The biggest difference between a white and black rhino is the shape of their heads and what they eat. They are both herbivores yet they dine on different vegetation. Neither eats ice cream.

In order to earn our mint chocolate chip and moose tracks, I led "Rhino Yoga". We used our prayer hands to stretch out and eventually established our horns. Then, we did something you don't often see at a yoga class...we ran into each other. There is nothing quite like rolling out your mat and then pretending you are a rhinoceros in a violent power struggle.

I had a bowl of both mint chocolate chip and moose tracks.

My 5-year-old got to celebrate life with her exceptional Geneva Preschool teachers and her classmates. Her excitement leading up to the ice cream party and her focus during the event was truly powerful. Technology continues to give us opportunities to connect. Ice cream continues to bring joy and is scientifically proven to enhance education.

Flamingo Wednesday was a debacle. Our pupils were quarreling as if they were still rhinos. I, the professor, also was not in the state of mind to teach. The show must go on. We did Calypso the Flamingo yoga on Youtube courtesy of Cosmic Yoga. It absolutely helped ease the tension in the classroom. Lesson learned - exercise can help you get out of your rhino mood. Half the battle is simply making it to the mat.

Our final school day of the week was Turtle Thursday. We used exercise playing cards to get out of our shells. "Turtle Taps" was a lesson on how tapping different parts of the body is a way to calm our minds and reduce stress. Tapping, a technique used in acupuncture, creates a sensation that soothes. I thought about doing actual acupuncture but my wife decided that I should stick to what I know.

The other exercise was a yoga shape called "Turtle". The card read, "quiet, safe, inside". My 5-year-old did a terrific turtle. My Dad turtle card would have read, "loud, unsafe, inside". I imagined ending up at the hospital and having the following exchange:

Doctor: "What happened sir?"

Me: "I was doing a turtle yoga pose."

Doctor: "Are you the same guy who did rhino yoga on Tuesday?"

Johnstown, stay active. Leap like a frog. Power up like a rhino. Even on dark days, shine bright like a flamingo. And, when the stress is mounting, do some turtle taps.

And if you have not laughed yet in this blog, here is how a 3-year-old starts off a game of Guess Who?

Mom: "Ask your first question."

3-year-old: "Are you wearing pants?"

Namaste.

Zoo Keeping: Week 4

One month into home schooling, we have come to a crossroads. It snowed this week and a lunatic fox has been seen wandering our neighborhood. People are going crazy. Foxes are going crazy. Craziness abounds. 

Without further ado, here is a recap of Week 4 in our animal kingdom:

Tuesday kicked off with a giraffe and a giraffe has a powerful kick, capable of killing the king of the jungle if he tries to attack. "Field trips" were a part of each school day and we traveled to Tanzania to learn about giraffes and their African habitat. We also learned about how giraffes enter into this world. 

Over five years ago, I entered into the world of parenting. Everything was so new and the possibilities were endless. For new parents of 2020, I hope there is still that burst of endless possibility even if we are all under a canopy of uncertainty. And this is certain - a baby giraffe has a shocking entrance into the world - a mother giraffe gives birth standing up. The initial second of a giraffe's existence is around a 5-foot fall to life. 

Each and every giraffe does not hit the ground running. They just hit the ground. But, then they get up and they grow to become the tallest animal on Earth. In order to reach great heights, you got to build from the ground up. 

We learned about elk on Wednesday and traveled to the rugged landscape of Utah. My wife and I had scheduled our 7th anniversary trip to Utah this Spring. Our marriage has been full of adventures all over this great country. We won't make it to Utah in this season, but hope is not lost. Plans get changed. Adventures need rerouted. What is important - my adventure team is all healthy. Physically, I was not in Utah on Tuesday but never doubt the power of a childlike imagination. My oldest daughter and I made hunting rifles out of big sticks. We painted them and pretended we were elk hunters. We also vowed to shoot the lunatic fox if he showed his lunatic face. 

In my front yard I traveled to Utah with my 5-year-old.  Never let your imagination be in isolation. I learned that from my daughter as we fired front yard rifle shots. Note to reader - the fox is still at large.

On Thursday, we headed back across the Mississippi River to the Bluegrass State. I rode a horse one time and one time only and it was in Kentucky. I was with my wife. We did not have kids yet. My horse was Maverick, a true pistol. I recall him not liking puddles, making me extremely nervous that I was going to be launched into the Kentucky wilderness. Maverick would see puddles with his monstrous eyes and make these beastly bursts to dry land. It was a trail ride with a small group of strangers - other than my wife - and of course I was last in line on Maverick and his puddle phobia. 

Even though travel is on hold right now, I am grateful for trips down memory lane. I can close my eyes and see myself - with my eyes closed sitting on Maverick - holding on for dear life - praying for no more puddles. I am thankful for a life full of travel and to Maverick, my maniac mustang.

Friday concluded with penguins. We expeditioned to Anarctica. Now, more than ever, we are like penguins. We are huddled up at home waddling around. Penguins are remarkable birds simply for the fact that Antactica is their home. To survive, they make phenonemal treks and sacrifices, but to penguins this is no phenomenon - it is their way of life. Our way of life has been thrown upside down, but we are hanging in there - and there is something fun and phenomenal about it all.

We did penguin yoga where we did side stretches and worked on our waddles. We learned about emperor penguins and the humboldt penguin off the coast of Peru. From the beginning of the school week to the end, our family of four traveled all over the globe. We used the globe that we purchased from Riek's Country Store in Brownstown to illustrate how far we had traveled. Riek's, a mainstay in our community, helped us go to communities all over the world. Thanks Riek's and to all the small businesses that make Johnstown a great place to call home.

I'll end with an imaginary scene. The Emperor penguin, we shall call him Wolfe, of the emperor penguins had to walk out onto an arctic ice sheet and address his fellow penguins. He had to explain to them that effective today, their kind will be practicing 6-feet of social distance. His penguins, who were already waddling and yammering in a mile long huddle, continued to waddle and yammer in extremely close proximity. He then stated that everyone can still go fishing since it is life-sustaining; however, you need to wear a snorkel. The crowd continues to waddle and yammer.

Baby penguins had no idea what Emperor Wolfe was talking about. They started asking their parents if they could get their own microphones and if they could still slide across the ice on their bellies. Parents tried to stop this sidebar yammering, but the kids were not listening. Emperor Wolfe also said that a seal volunteered to deliver fish to the penguins if they did not want to travel to the water. He worked for the local ALDI and was described as "trustworthy". Kid penguins pointed out that seals eat penguins, but the parents were not listening. Emperor Wolfe asked if everyone could remain calm.

And as the sun was going down, all the penguins decided that it was best to start this social distancing. They all had their own opinions on the declaration yet for all penguinkind, they understood what needed to be done.

And because of their teamwork and communication, penguin life moved on. They all lived happily ever after in a "new normal" penguin society.

The End. The Beginning. One day at a time.

Zoo Keeping: Week 3

When I initiated the "Animal of the Day" education plan I knew my resources were robust. Our home is full of wildlife art and crafts. As I gathered materials and momentum, it was clear I had a colorful curriculum to produce "Bear Week". The Easter Bunny would be preceded by five glorious days of bears.

And as I colored, researched, and lesson planned, I found hope in bears - their survival; their will; their uniqueness. 

Sunday started with the polar bear. A baby polar bear is born into a world of bitter cold and ice. For over two years, a mother polar bear protects her young from freezing to death, starving, and from arctic wolves. On some of the harshest places on Earth, a mother's determination and instinct are what keep polar bears roaming and roaring. 

When social isolation began, our family of four started roaming and roaring, room-to-room. Instead of scanning endless miles of ice sheets and glaciers, we observed paths full of piles. We set out on laundry expeditions. We discovered that "working from home with a 5-year-old and 3-year-old" is a synonym for "not working". But, like polar bears, we adapted. We got fierce. To survive these elements we had the ultimate element - perseverance. Being together is not harsh. It is a blessing. Think like a polar bear mother. Never give in. Never give up. 

Monday was the black bear. Black bears are found all across the United States. We learned about the true story of "Miracle", a baby black bear saved by a wildlife rescue team in Arkansas. There was little hope when the 5-pound cub was found. Alone and sick, she would have died if someone did not try to help. Five months later, Miracle was 90 pounds and released back into the Arkansas wilderness. 

I am grateful for all those people trying to help right now. There will be more stories like Miracle's. Stories about doctors and nurses and first responders and volunteers who helped those in need.  Like black bears, those stories will be scattered across the country. I am not sure when we will be released as a society, but for today, a sincere thank you to every medical professional on the planet. 

Tuesday was the grizzly bear. Grizzly bears stand on the river's edge and patiently wait for salmon to make their silly upstream swim. Each salmon needs to get airborne in order to find passage. Grizzlies know this. To watch this Mother Nature event - in slow-motion on YouTube - you appreciate the patience. Grizzly bears fail most of the time when salmon fishing, but they stay still. They stay calm. They are disciplined. 

Distancing is frustrating. Feeling stuck is physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually draining. You feel like you are never going to sink your teeth into that salmon...but you stay on the river's edge. It's uneasy not knowing how long this is going to take. And sometimes doing very little requires the most energy. Think like a grizzly bear. Be patient. Your time will come. 

Wednesday was the sun bear. The sun bear is the smallest bear on Earth. It climbs great heights in the rain forests of China and India. The sun bear is rare and rarely seen. Its distinctive golden chest resembles the biggest star in our sky. 

While there is a general gloom in our world right now, the sun still shines. My girls and I have been climbing trees and running in the yard like a bunch of damn sun bears. You rarely see a grown man down on all fours dashing down a hill. We are not climbing great heights yet we are finding greatness in the little things.

Thursday finished with the giant panda and the koala bear, a comedic combo to culiminate Bear Week. 99% of a giant panda's diet is bamboo, which leads to almost constant pooping. While we, as humanity, are feeling sorry for ourselves, just know that a giant panda woke up today prepared for a terribly unnutritious regimine of bamboo eating and vigorous pooping. Meanwhile, the koala bear has never really even woken up. It sleeps up to 22 hours a day. And, it is not even a bear - it is a marsupial. Talk about an identity crisis.

We watched the movie Sing to bring Bear Week all together. A koala named Buster Moon says it best, "Don't let fear stop you from doing the things you love!"

Have a Happy Easter, Johnstown. Draw inspiration from bears and marsupials. Live differently yet love the same. Make the most out of this social hiberation.

Giant pandas even poop while napping.

Zoo Keeping: Week 2

Marching into April, my wife and I continue to try to provide Maslow's hiearchy of needs to our children while engaging in psychological warfare. Week 2 of home education provided the following academic and zoological kabooms.

A chameleon's tongue mimics the action of a bow and arrow. This color changing reptile is an expert tree hunter using its launching tongue as a weapon, surprise attacking bugs. The smallest chameleon is so tiny it can sit on the head of a match and is called the leaf chameleon. Leaf chameleons are also pyromaniacs. 

The king cobra snake will eat a mongoose. A mongoose will eat a king cobra. They are both predator and prey to each other. My girls and I watched a Youtube showdown of this nature combat. With sports being indefinitely postponed, it was nice to watch some competition. I will not reveal who won. Our family won, that's for sure. 

The blue whale is ridiculously big. A newborn blue whale average 3 tons and can stretch up to 25 feet long. Imagine the size of the epidural that whale doctors have to use during pregnancy. I almost passed out when I was introduced to the epidural hours before my first daughter was born. Keyword - almost. 

My firstborn was 7 pounds even. That is 5,993 pounds less than your average baby blue whale. 

On our school day that concentrated on wolves, we all took turns on our balcony howling. There is nothing like a wolf howl into the sunshine. Typically, wolves howl at the moon but these days are far from typical. So, we howled at the biggest star in the sky. We may have alarmed a few neighbors, but they will get over it. Social distance howls are recommended by Dr. Mother Nature. 

Friday concluded with a zany lesson on snails and slugs. We made slugbots (slugs morphed into robots) and had a TV show called "Snailed It" where we made snails out of Playdough. All sorts of animals try to eat banana slugs, probably because they are full of potassium. We watched a Youtube video where a snake and a raccoon each take a shot at a banana slug lunch. One succeeds. One does not. Sticky suspense. 

Each day is a blessing. Fill it with learning and laughter. To conclude Friday school, my 3-year-old stated, "We are real teamagers."

God help us all.

Next week - BEAR week!

Zoo Keeping

At the end of last week and in the midst of distancing, I initiated an education plan inside our abode. The centerpiece of the plan was an "Animal of the Day". And since the inaugural animal (red fox), there has been a zoological zest to combat our captivity. Here are some of the things we have learned, from our animal kingdom to yours:

The female red fox is called a vixen. I have called my 3-year-old, reddish-haired daughter many things, but never a vixen. According to a dictionary, a vixen is "a spiteful or quarrelsome woman." My 3-year-old is in fact a vixen. 

The octopus is a unique creature of the sea. We watched an amazing video of the ingenious way an octopus steals crabs from a fisherman. Youtube search "octopus steals crabs from fisherman" and recognize the world's most intelligent invertebrate!

 Do you know the difference between an alligator and a crocodile? Do you know there is a cousin of those reptiles known as the caiman? Our daughters now can differentiate between alligator, crocodile and caiman. There is only one place in the world where they could find an alligator and crocodile sharing the same habitat. The answer - The Florida Everglades. I've been there. One of the most memorable experiences of my life. 

Elephants belong to complex social groups led by a female aka the matriarch. My wife was the teacher on this day. I glued a photo of my wife to construction paper and then I drew the outline of an elephant. My wife's head was now inside the head of an elephant. Then, my 5-year-old executed a painting of our matriarch. Masterpiece. Initial design by man. Creation by woman. Inspiration - my woman. This is probably the only way you can compare your wife to an elephant and gain appreciation. 

There is a website where you can listen to an array of owl hoots. After practicing our "balcony hoots", my daughters and I critiqued hoots from the Great Horned Owl to the Barn Owl. If you traveled to the North Pole to find the Elf Owl it would not be wise. The Elf Owl actually is found near the border of the United States and Mexico. 

Starfish are not fish. Fish have backbones. Starfish do not have backbones. Neither do jellyfish. Do you know who eats jellyfish tentacles like spaghetti? Turtles. No sauce, no sting. Bon Appetit. 

My wife and I were once at an ostrich farm in Aruba. During the last two weeks, I've daydreamed about running wild with ostriches. They can run up to 43 mph. In my daydream, I am faster. Also, I dream I can fly. Ostriches cannot fly. 

The golden eagle can have a wingspan of up to 7.5 feet. We used a tape measure to demonstrate that incredible range. Again, I imagined flying. Minutes later, I was pushing a vixen and her sister in a Radio Flyer red wagon. Dads cannot fly. 

During a torrential downpour, I picked up Saturday night dinner from Luna Azteca in Westmont. Bon Appetit, parents. While in the parking lot, a bird of prey swooped right in front of my windshield and landed on the neighboring building. Like a crazy apocalyptic Dad, I stood in the rain and photographed a perched hawk. The golden eagle is on the flag of Mexico. Chicken flautas would be on my flag of fatherhood. 

On Sunday morning, we enjoyed The Evergreens latest homebound concert, a dedication to The Beatles. I colored a Winnie the Pooh page that read "Life is simple in the Hundred-Acre Wood". Beside Pooh and Piglet staring into the stream, I added "Bright eyes cheer the heart; good news strengthens the bones" (Proverbs 15:30).

Ostriches have acute eyesight, able to see predators from miles away. I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I am indeed not an ostrich. I can't run as fast. My neck is not 4+ feet long; however, if I keep pulling that Radio Flyer, I might extend something. Alas, my bones remain strong. 

Johnstown, wake up each morning with bright eyes. Cheer someone else's heart. Be a good news teller. Parents, teach your kids daily even if sometimes being stuck in the house is like chewing on jellyfish tentacles. 

Monday is another day. Animal of the Day: "The Chameleon!"

Spring Saturday Top 10

Sheltered. Secluded. Survival. In troubled times, humor needs to shine like Saturday's sun. This all happened in a 24 hour springtime span:

#10: Professor Daddy Diddums

Alter-ego. From now until question mark, I am Professor Daddy Diddums. Don't worry about the name or why we started school on a Saturday. This is a makeshift operation. I am the educator. My daughters are my pupils. They would not respect my classroom if I were Dad. When I become Professor Daddy Diddums, I am Harvard educated and my students value my wisdom. We have an animal of the day (octopus) and we combine multiple disciplines, including gym and art. Special guest today - Bob Ross on Netflix. Thanks, Bob. Let's color this canvas!

#9: Geography Lesson

At one point after school my 3-year-old was looking for me. My wife told her I was on another planet. My 3-year-old found me in the dining room. She declared, "Dad, this is not Jupiter. This is a home."

#8: Teaching on the Trail

Before lunch, my daughters and I made the Stackhouse Park descent via the Brownstown Trail. It was rocky and riveting. My 5-year-old warrior was on foot. My 3-year-old was strapped to my back. I pushed our adventure stroller the whole way knowing I would need it for the ascent. My favorite teacher of all-time is Mother Nature. There is no one like her.

#7:  Words Not Needed

As I was making my way back to my front yard, I was Dad sweating; pushing a 45 pound sandbag and carrying a 30 pound potato sack. I looked up and saw the bright lights...of a Fed Ex truck. As it drove by, the driver gave the most empathic thumbs-up I have ever received. I could see his smiling silhouette through the window. In this era of social distance, it was an incredible man-to-man moment. Respect, Fed Ex driver. Respect.

#6: Coast-to-Coast Connect

Throughout the day, I made calls to friends across the country; from Washington State to South Carolina; Portland, Oregon, San Francisco Bay and Greensburg, PA. Friendship is a blessing. Keep fighting the good fight Mary, Dave, Tim, Ben, and Jeff. Miles apart yet in this together.

#5: Mac-and-Cheese Connect

The apocalyptic meal of choice is mac-and-cheese. It satisfies each and every soul unless you don't have a soul. And if you don't have a soul, this blog can't help you.

#4. Tent Thrashing

My daughters love when I fold a tent in half and shake it psychotically with them in it. From the street, this is terrifying theatre; a grown man just violently vibrating a tent. But, inside the tent, there is pure joy and madness. And, I will thrash that tent until they ask me to stop. Or, the police command me to stop. I thrashed the tent from approximately 3:00 to 3:15 PM on Saturday. Great bicep workout. Johnstown Police. Respect.

#3: Wagon Ride

After dinner, our family of 4 went on a wagon ride. I pulled. My daughters rode. My wife pushed. 50% of us got a cardiovascular workout. 100% of us got fresh air. 0% of us were in the house. 100% win.

#2: The Evergreens Live

This Johnstown duo has enriched our lives with music, positivity, and friendship. They put on a Facebook Live performance on Saturday night that was the essence of resilience. The music will keep playing. The connection shall not cease. Our family put on our Evergreens T-shirts. We got weird. We connected. We appreciated. Amanda and Laurel - your melodies make magic. The evergreen tree often towers over its competition. Ladies, keep growing, keep going, and keep playing!

#1: Together

I have a hard time staying in one place. Today was no exception, yet this week has been unlike no other I have experienced on Planet Earth. Yet, I still have faith in Mother Nature; have the love of family; have the support of friends; have a community I call home.

Love and laugh. My 3-year-old peed on a yoga mat this week.

Namaste.

Stay Positive

The lead story every day moving forward will be the number of confirmed cases. Each community will attempt to confirm or collect positivity without much connection. It is going to be difficult and unpredictable. I'll respond with predictable positivity. It might not be easy yet if there is anything I want to teach my kids it is this; every day, your lead story, can be gratitude. Choose to be grateful. 

I was in the middle of writing a blog related to all the positive experiences I have had recently in Johnstown when life began to change. My kids had a blast on Leap Day at the Heritage Discovery Center in Cambria City. That same night, my wife and I attended an annual tradition, Copernicus Day at the Boulevard Grill. Jacob plays an amazing accordion. Even if you are bunkered down in some basement, keep playing Jacob.  Our family attended Nature Works, an event where Bottleworks transforms into a maze of natural and recreational wonder. We had fun and observed - for the 3rd straight year - a community on the move. 

Now, we are quite still. It is weird. It is alarming. It is uneasy. Stackhouse Park remains my refuge. I have gone on many a March hike, listening to the birds chatter. One day, I walked snow covered trails in the morning only to walk green paths in the late afternoon. Talk about dramatic change. 

In the days and weeks ahead, individuals, families, small businesses, and big plans will be put to the test. Health, security, risks, and rewards will overwhelm our world. Point out the positive if the overwhelming is transforming to overpowering. 

My youngest daughter celebrated her 3rd birthday on this Saint Patrick's Day. She was healthy. She felt secure - two loving parents, a strong sister, and a Mr. Potato Head Hulk - yes, there is a Mr. Potato Head Hulk. If you have lost all hope, welcome back. There is a Mr. Potato Head Hulk. 

My daughter risked jumping off her bed and waiting until the last second to go pee. She played until she was overwhelmed by the need to nap. We have had three rewarding years of her. 

Here we go, Johnstown. Take care of yourself. Take care of each other. Support small businesses. See the bigger picture. Call upon Mr. Potato Head Hulk when you need him most. 

No matter what happens, be grateful. 

Dad Movie Review: Sonic the Hedgehog

Last Sunday I took my 2-year-old daughter to see Sonic the Hedgehog. She met a 3-year-old man at Westwood Plaza Theatre for a matinee. His father drove him to the cinemas. It was classified as a date and was chaperoned by two fathers from the Sega era. Please enjoy this review of the fuzzy blue hedgehog.

To begin, Sonic came into my world when I was about 7-years-old. When Sega Genesis unleashed this peculiar mammal to the video game universe, it provided immediate thrills. A few years later, in 1993, Ace Ventura: Pet Detective was released. Sonic and Jim Carey can credit the early 1990s for the height of their popularity. Sonic dominated the video game scene while Carey followed up Ace Ventura with The Mask and Dumb and Dumber in the same calendar year. Amazingly, two + decades later, Sonic and Jim share the big screen in an epic adventure.

My daughter did not care about that rich history paragraph. Any opportunity to go to the movies is fantastic. "Thanks Dad for the star-crossed storyline. Now, get on with the blog."

Legend has it that this film was delayed for quite some time because of how the blue hedgehog was going to come to life. Sonic had to be redesigned and there was outrage over his appearance. And let's face it, if we can't get a live-action Sonic right then there is no chance at world peace. Ultimately, I think they did a good job. He is brilliantly blue and blazes around for under two hours.

That is the first win - under two hours. It should be illegal to make a movie over two hours for a child audience. It is inhumane. Paramount Pictures gets a star simply for a 100 minute showtime.

Jim Carey acts as the villian doctor. His character is also insane, which might be more of a characteristic of the man, not the actor. He scared the date to some degree, but never enough to cause pure panic. And - spoiler alert - Sonic outruns Dr. Robotnik. And that really should not have spoiled much. If you had an inclination that Sonic would die during the movie, maybe you are insane.

The film takes place in the Pacific Northwest which had me daydreaming about adventuring in that part of the country. While I was lost in that daydream, I imagined climbing mountains and crossing streams. I imagined glorious sunrises and serene sunsets. I imagined my children chasing Sonic the Hedgehog somewhere on the other side of the Mississippi River far away from my wilderness conquests.

And that my friends is the magic of the movies. Sonic gets "2 Paws Up" from me because hedgehogs have paws. My 2-year-old had a civil date with her 3-year-old prince. Two Dads had some level of matinee peace, which does not solve the world's problems, but it is a step in the right direction.

Johnstown, let's all race to personal greatness. Lead by example. Make your own unique magic.

Godspeed.

Heritage Discovery Center Top 10

Our family invested in a family pass for the Heritage Discovery Center this year and it is paying big dividends. This Johnstown museum and interactive play space has become a communal explosion of exploration. Here is the first Top 10 of 2020:

#10: Put on your Hard Hat

There is plenty for children to conquer at this Broad Street bonanza. And for courageous adults, there is opportunity to turn back the clock and celebrate the splendor of youth. Inside the Discovery Center, you can be a pediatrician, a train conductor, and an executive chef. You can own a grocery store or plan a fashion show. You can be anything you want to be.

Many would say, I am not built for the coal mines. Physically, yes, I am built for mine life. I am short and shifty; however, I am quite incompetent in various forms of manual labor. I'm also a fierce opponent of occupations significantly above or below sea level.  I never in my life wanted to be an astronaut or operate a submarine. I like Earth's air.

So, when I started navigating the coal mine fun zone with my daughters, I had some trepidation. Quickly, and with short and shifty vigor, I got into a mining groove. I was role playing. I was referencing the seven dwarfs. I was a Discovery Dad.

And then, I banged my head off of a pipe. More specifically, off a screw on the pipe. My 5-year-old, playing the role of mining doctor, assessed my injury. She reported it was safe for me to go down the slide despite the blood. So, I held on tight, to my head, and made my way down the dark slide and into the light of other parents. I played it coal mining cool and headed to the bathroom.

Upon looking into the mirror and taking a good hard look at my life, there was only one thing I could do. I, a boy, emerged from the Boy's Room and asked an employee for a band-aid.

Today, there is a purple foam protector covering that screw. It is a tribute to my bravery.

#9:  Arts and Crafts

This is more my speed. Coloring a miner is much more gratifying than mining. I have established a reputation as an Arts and Crafts guru. This was after I established a reputation as an idiot in the coal mine.

#8:  Immigration

On the first floor, you can pretend to be an immigrant. The last time we were there we did something that was quite common when people immigrated to America - we lost track of someone. Our 2-year-old was M.I.A. for a brief interval. We were leading this wolfpack of parents and wolves and we lost track of our second born.

Long story short, we found her and she earned her citizenship. We love her more every day.

We never lost our first born.

We do not plan on having a third.

#7:  Hot Dam

A kiddo favorite is the exhibit where you can build a dam and see if it can withstand a force of water. It is an excellent opportunity in engineering and psychology. You discover which kids are going to make positive contributions to society and which kids will intentionally flood a town and laugh at catastrophe.

#6: Super Market Sweep

My daughters love creating their own Aldi. The super market gives children the opportunity to shop, run a register, and run into each other. Typically, my 5-year-old charges $1.00 for every item. Jug of milk? $1.00. Eggplant? $1.00. Single egg? $1.00. My 2-year-old does not indicate pricing. She slashes prices completely. She just stands behind the register and moves money and vegetables around. Sometimes you get a bag of squash and cash. Sometimes you get squat.

#5: Train Sweeping By

If you are lucky, a real-life train will go by while you are at the Discovery Center. At least one parent has to announce that a real-life train is in eyesight. Without any words being exchanged, every parent thinks the same thing: "One of us has to declare that a train is out there. Someone do it for the kids."

I've been that parent. I think I have actually whispered it. "There is a train".  It is usually when I am coloring by myself.

#4: Inclined Plane

A real good arm workout is turning a wheel to move the Inclined Plane replica. I used to belong to a gym and do a range of free weight exercises. Now, I operate a toy and tell other Dads it is a good workout. I actually said that the last time we were there. "It is a good workout".

I am probably starting to scare some kids, "Mom, why is that man spinning that wheel so hard? Is he sweating?  Is that the same guy who had a band-aid on his head last Saturday?"

#3: Feed Me

In the play kitchen, there is a table set for four. If you play your menu right, you can sit at the table and kids will feed you pretend food. They bring over terrible combinations of grub. Taco with a donut? Perfect. Corn on the cob with ketchup? Thank you.

The best part about it - you do not have to clean up. You just walk away. And for whatever reason, the kids often clean up themselves and ENJOY it. They work together. They take pride in keeping a clean kitchen.

It will never happen in real life.

#2: The Making of Steel

The grand finale of all our Discovery trips is watching this documentary in the theatre. My kids love it and they love taking new buddies to this cinematic wonder. They promote the steel out of the movie, which you would think would be a hard sell. But, my daughters project this genuine grandeur that excites the crowd every time.

Critics say it will "Steel your heart" (Dad joke).

#1: Families

The best part of the Discovery Center is the family-friendly and educational atmosphere. Whether you are a parent or a kid, it is always nice to learn in your community. Being together as a family is a blessing. Being together with other families is a blessing too.

I hope to see you at the Discovery Center some time soon.

All aboard!!!!!!!!!!

Basketball Dads

On Saturday, I competed in an intense Best of 3 basketball series. A 2-on-2 game that meant nothing yet in that gym we left it all on the floor. I talked to my wife about it at the dinner table that night. Basketball has filled my life with so many smiles.

The next morning, basketball legend Kobe Bryant died in a helicopter crash. He died with one of his daughters and left behind three more. I keep thinking about his wife. Thinking about a dinner table without a Dad. It is a devastating thought.

Watching Kobe play was often devastating. I always have loved basketball and I never loved Kobe. He was cocky. He was relentless. He was often the hardwood villain in Hollywood purple. I grew up in the basketball era that he shaped. He inspired others to play harder and he made it easy to root against him.

All of that is meaningless now.

His life and his legacy will be discussed at great Laker length. Our culture is consumed by tributes after tragedy. The mass media will create a cyclone of file footage, testimonials, and reactions to what no one could have predicted or planned for. And all I can think about is that empty dining room chair.

Kobe was a competitor and a Dad. That is meaningful now. When I received a text from my brother about Kobe, I was immediately stunned and surprisingly shook. My brother and I used to play 1-on-1 in our parents' driveway as if it were the NBA finals. Now, we are both Dads who visit that same house we grew up in. Our Dad has been elevated to Granddude, the proud grandfather to three little girls. The basketball hoop is no longer up, but the memories will forever be on that lane toward the garage door.

Basketball will be fine without Kobe. The game also will survive even if my brother and I never lace it up again on that hoop dream driveway. In a fast-paced world where my daughters are growing up faster, the news of Kobe's death gave me pause. The unimaginable nature of his passing is countered by an imaginable future - for his family and for mine.

Johnstown is a long way away from Los Angeles - in probably every imaginable way. Yet, for basketball Dads, maybe tonight you feel a weird closeness to Kobe. To be a Dad is to be flawed, to be part superhero and super duper vulnerable. In Positive Johnstown, Positive L.A., Positive Wherever You Are spirit, the tragic loss of a superstar is an opportunity to put on that superhero cape.

I am grateful for all the basketball games I have played. I look forward to the next time I step on the court.

But most importantly, I look forward to that next dinner with my wife and daughters.

Dad Review: Disney World

The World Wide Web is rich in Disney World reviews. This is just another Dad making a magical mark on summarizing the beauty and the beast that is The Magic Kingdom. Without further ado, here is my Top 10 after one glorious day in the kingdom:

#10  Rescue Ranger

The last time I was in Disney was 1986. My parents drove from Johnstown to Orlando. The airplane had been invented yet my father decided that automobiling would be more thrilling. I bet it was. Unfortunately or fortunately I have no review of my first Disney experience. I was a 2-year-old and my brain does not have the capacity to recall 1986. This is not an indictment on my brain functioning; it is how the human mind works, Peter Pan.

The mind of a child is quite comparable to the thinking cap of the chipmunk. Thus, I brought a Dale hand puppet for this adventure. This Rescue Ranger is from my wife's youth and he brings an unparalleled pleasure to my 2-year-old. Plus, chipmunks fly free on Southwest.

This is the last time I will use the word "free" in reference to the Disney trip.

#9  Buzz Off

Our brigade was 6 deep - myself, my wife, my in-laws, and my two daughters. You would be Goofy to believe anything other than a 2-to-1 adult to child ratio is smart in order to withstand Walt's empire. The scale of Disney is breathtaking, heart pounding, and feet pounding - a lot of mileage in the magic.

Our first ride was the Toy Story spinning craze of color, noise, and toys. We were firing a weapon to infinity and beyond while accruing points in an unexplainable war zone competition. My kids loved it.

When they asked to do it again at the end of the day, the collective sentiment was "No, space ranger". I would rather have a snake in my boot than wait two hours to do that again.

#8 Big Mermaid

The Little Mermaid ride was a big production and the one I found the most visually impressive. Even the line was fun. That's the real magic @ Disney - you start appreciating the geography of the line. "This has a nice scenic zig and zag, great design". "Didn't see that turn coming! Deceiving!"

The Little Mermaid line winded through a cavern and led us to a shell of a good time under the sea.

#7 Mickey Mouse Doughnut

Just before meeting Alice (Wonderland fame), we shared a team doughnut shaped in the form of Mickey Mouse's skull. It was pink frosted, sprinkled, and full of gluten. Alice did not seem to judge us as we devoured the pastry. She shouldn't. None of us fell down a rabbit hole.

#6 Alice's Tea Cups

Just before eating the doughnut and meeting Alice, we spun violently in one of her tea cups. If we would have done this in the reverse order, I would have thrown up in a rabbit hole.

#5 Parade Pass Out

At 3:00 PM, my 4-year-old slept through an incredible parade. I was on the pavement sitting criss-cross applesauce with her body extended over me. People were stepping on my hands. My wife was holding my 2-year-old and my 2-year-old was inadvertently kicking me in the neck. At one point, my wife dropped her phone on my head. Despite all this, I fell asleep for a solid minute. I had my sunglasses on, but beneath the shade was a stealthy Dad getting a quick snooze.

When the parade started, we tried to wake up my eldest, but that did not work and was a risky attempt. She is known to go Mad Hatter when wakened from a nap. You would think a parade literally a few feet away would wake our Sleeping Beauty, but her slumber is unrivaled.

So, I sat with other children and was wowed by this parade. It was the Hall of Fame of Disney on the move. At one point, a live-action Tinkerbell made eye contact with me and gave me a fairy wave. I captured this on my cell phone. After looking at the photo, I could not determine what was more creepy; the look Tinkerbell is giving me or the fact that I was criss-cross applesauce and took the picture. Also, I had my daughter's crown on my head, which I totally forgot about. It was on top of my baseball hat.

I did not realize this until another princess looked me in the eyes and said, "I love your crown!". I wish someone would have taken a picture of my face in that moment. Confused. Shocked. Embarrassed. Disney.

#4 Dynamite Dumbo

Dumbo is the only ride we did twice and it was because of the line. Not because the line was short (there are no "short lines" in Disney, Donald Duck). It was because the line had a circus gym mid-line to crawl and climb through. Genius? Dangerous? Both?

The only reason we got back in line the second time was because both our girls wanted to smile, climb and fall all over the big top. Two ears up to the Dumbo diversion!

#3 The Astro Orbiter

My 2-year-old screamed magic murder the entire time we were on this ride. She sat with her Pap. And by sat, I mean attempted to throw herself out of a spaceship. Despite the audible horror, I enjoyed the sky high view from my spacecraft. I sat with my wife. Her eyes were closed the entire time due to the revolutions...or maybe the romance. I had my arm around her as I overlooked the kingdom and listened to my second born beg for mercy.

No one wanted to do this ride a second time.

#2 Pluto on Earth

When leaving the park after the sun set, there was a bombastic block party led by Mickey. Humans and mascot animals were dancing to a high-octane sing-a-long, surrounded by floats and flashes of light. My 2-year-old spotted a pulse-pumping Pluto, who was dancing as if it was his last dance as a dog. She slowly walked up, inches away from his paws, and stared at him. No dance. All judgement of a crazed canine. In this magical moment, my daughter looked like the lunatic.

#1 Memory Bank

Years from now, who knows what any of us will remember. Memory is unpredictable and precious. I cannot conclude that Disney is the happiest place on earth, but nothing makes me happier than being with my family - in the orbits, through the lines, and to that finish line none of us can accurately predict.

Disney is all about waiting, wondering, and wandering. Sounds a lot like life itself, for people and for those chipmunks out there just trying to find the next nut.

Thank you, Walt Disney. Thank you, family. Thank you, Dale.

The magic is not in the kingdom. The magic is in the characters that make up your cast.

Good night, Johnstown.