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.