June Jingles and Jolts

The summer season's opening month has delivered these local sights and sounds:

Jingle

We attended the SummerQuest kickoff @ the Cambria County Library for a little mid-June rocking, rolling, and reading. The Evergreens set the mood on the outdoor patio as kids frolicked the grounds. The adventure themed event was perfect for this pioneer. Our library's outdoor upgrades are inviting to inspiring while the programming is consistently creative and colorful. Rock painting power to flower sniffing satisfaction, the Great Outdoors were truly great on this night. On the inside of this book kingdom, we personalized adventurous book markers and then entered a planetarium for a short film. 

Sitting inside a giant inflatable globe, the parents learned a lot surrounded by galaxy children. First off, sitting criss-cross applesauce is hard. As I was learning about the intense training astronauts have to endure just to qualify for intergalatic adventuring, I got hot and bothered by sitting. My astronaunt application would get rejected faster than a shooting star:

NASA: "Tell us about yourself..."

Me: "I don't like tight spaces, I can't sit still, and I just recently realized that sitting criss-cross applesauce is hell. I understand that if I am not sitting, I will be floating. I also like having control. How do you control floating? Also, is there barbecue on board? I love barbecue." 

NASA: "Here is a trail map. Stay on Earth."

While the film played, I fidgeted like a caveman desperate to stand up for the first time while my wife admired the library's floor. Legend has it that child birth has increased motion sickness in her body/brain/being. I tried to comfort her by reliving the moment when I almost passed out the first time I saw an epidural needle. 

After the movie, like good parents, we blamed our kids for our problems and bought them ice cream. 

Jolt

While commanding the Subaru on Franklin Street one mighty fine June evening, I peered over the river wall. Brakes slammed. Bald Eagle. 

I abandoned my vehicle and family - after putting on my four way flashers and safely exiting The Ascent. I did leave my door wide open, but we all make mistakes and forgiveness is a part of marriage. My youngest daughter followed me to see this patriotic bird stoically perched on a river rock. This predator was hunting and peering into the American aqua. 

It reaffirmed I would be a terrible astronaunt and I love this country. 

Jingle

My daughters sung the National Anthem @ a Johnstown Mill Rats baseball game. My 9-year-old was the lead singer and her younger sister was her backup vocalist. They were as poised and patriotic as that river rock Bald Eagle. Their musical talent and stage presence is a testament to so many great teachers and mentors along the way. It should be noted that Dad's driving and shower singing provided a strong musical foundation. 

I also taught them to never sing, shower, and drive at the same time. 

Jolt 

At Yellow Creek State Park in Indiana, I was part of a waterway adventure crew that spotted a killdeer on land. A killdeer is actually a sweet looking bird and not a murderous whitetail. This particular killdeer was a parent protecting a clutch of eggs directly behind a park bench. We got some National Geographic pictures of this wetlands bird and the four dinosaur looking eggs lying in this peculiar shady spot. The John Muir in me was beaming like the sun. 

Jingle 

Our family of four went to the see Inside Out 2 @ the Westwood Plaza this month. The best way I can describe Pixar films is that they have "get you" moments. There are times in life where these incredibly smart animated movies hit home depending on where you are on the journey. Inside Out debuted the same year my first daughter was born - a story about the complex emotions inside a little girl named Riley. Nine years later, the sequel catches us up with Riley as she is speeding toward and through adolescence, introducing a barrage of new emotions. 

Beyond the emotions, characters, and outstanding animation, the soundtrack is brillant. As a Girl Dad, the movie was as heartwarming as it was heartwrenching - the adult audience challenged to navigate through the hopes and perils of growing up, surrounded by the kids we are rooting for every step of the way.  If John Muir would have been inside my brain during that hour and a half, he would have said, "Good God boy, we need to get you to Alaska."

I am so very proud of my girls.

Damn you, Pixar. You did it again. 

Jolt 

Later in the month, we went back to the library to get an education on frogs. This was shortly after my youngest daughter almost stepped on a toad in the backyard. She seems to attract amphibians. There is no rush growing up, my froggy princess. Keep finding backyard beasts while I patrol the front lawn and keep the boys away. 

On this Monday night, the library's adventure series was a Frog Friends workshop where we listened to frog calls, learned about local species of leapers, and even got to watch a froggy feeding. Seated on a chair in the front row, I was much more comfortable than my "Planetarum Caveman Experience (PCE)". Special thanks to PA Woods and Forests for providing the amphibious education!

Jingle 

On the second Saturday in June, we celebrated a good friend who entered into ordained ministry. When a full church, a collection of interconnected community members, sang "Your Grace Is Enough", the lyrics spoke for themselves. But if there was an emotion to pinpoint, it was arguably the most importatnt character from Inside Out 2....

Joy.

As June turns to July, bring the joy. Visit your local library and gain some knowledge. Support local artists and teams. Soar with the eagles and hop with the frogs. Get lost in the magic of the movies. Realize that growing up today is not an easy adventure. Cheer on kids each and every day. Kids, cheer on the parents - we need the encouragement too. Strength in numbers gets stronger with an attitude of gratitude. 

Grateful for community and family. 

Adventure on. 

Crazy over Lazy

Over the second weekend of June, I embraced lunacy. By pure definition, being labeled a lunatic is not complimentary. It would indicate some form of insanity or wild tomfoolery that could be dangerous; however, there are a bunch of examples where a compliment is paid in the form of crazy. A committed sports fan becomes a fanatic taking fandom to a lunacy level.  A basketball guard with tremendous dribbling ability or a hockey scorer who uses his or her stick like a magician has "crazy handle". One might hop on a crazy train or be crazy in love. And the prevailing thought after a June Sunday was "tis better to be crazy than to be lazy".

Let's start from the beginning. I woke up first on this particular Sunday, a common initiation in our household. It was 5:15 AM and none of us were in the house. We were in a tent in the backyard. During the pandemic, the idea of living off the land was adventurous and advantageous. Our girls loved the campfire attraction right outside our doorstep and the parents needed a thrill that was outside the walls that had us boxed in. After years of commitment, camping in the backyard is now a standard operating parental procedure that has not lost luster. It comes with SMORES, the possibility of an outdoor movie, and the guarantee of Dad SNORES. 

A tradition that was born out of the backyard camp was Dad going to Dunkin Donuts to deliver "breakfast in tent". I honored my daughters' request by driving my Subaru on the inaugural sugar rush years ago. Then, somewhere during the pandemic madness, I decided - this is too easy and the world is too weird - I will bike to destination donuts.

Biking from Brownstown to Westmont requires almost immediate hills to humble thy father. On this Sunday I was also up again incoming rainfall. This bike mission felt quite apocalyptic as there were very few signs of life and the atmosphere was brewing for a burst. Alas, it was I bursting into Dunkin. "Blueberry and Coconut donuts, to go please, I am on bicycle. That is why I am sweating at 6:00 AM."

When I reemerged as a backyard hero, my wife and children clapped for me and neighbors sung my praises. Just kidding, everyone was still asleep. The birds cheered. I ate my coconut donut in peace, sipping on coffee and the sweet nectar of Mother Nature. Then, the beasts wobbled out of our monstrous blue tent. Sunday is on like Donkey Kong. 

After I watched my offspring devour the nourishment I heroically provided. It was time for me to leave once more, this time by vehicle. I attended a Sunday morning small group that has become an essential ingredient to my earthly existence. It is often fathers talking, laughing, and lumbering through life's challenges. It blends faith, humor, travel, hope, and a wellspring of coffee. The fellowship truly only has one essential ingredient - a belief in a Creator, a gratitude for this opportunity. 

So, it was I that came home as Donkey Kong post-fellowship. My wife reminded me that she and my daughters had to take a church picture at high noon. I told her, "what if I hike through Stackhouse Park and meet you at the church that I just left an hour ago".  She said "Brilliant, you lunatic" with her eyeballs. I love that look. I get it often. Also, I want to point out - dear readers - I was not going to be in this photograph. My hike was justified. 

The girls took a gorgeous snapshot while I made my way through the forest. Once reunited, my oldest locked in with what I was thinking...

"NOW WHAT TO DO WE DO?!?!"

And then suddenly the Laurel Highlands called out to us - my eldest daughter and me - "Head to the hills of Donegal" (deep voice, not heard by wife and youngest child). Let's Subaru Ascent to Caddie Shak! My wife and youngest daughter jump on board after we explain the calling. 

When I was a young buck, Caddie Shak was Donegal. If you were in Donegal, you were at Caddie Shak. And here I was on #7 at the Olde Mini Golf Course, back in my glory. Sunshine, glorious. Wife, glorious. Children, glorious. Pond frogs, glorious. 

Shot #1: Ball rolls back to me (Out of Bounds, Penalty Stroke)

Shot #3: Ball rolls back to me (Out of Bounds, Penalty Stroke)

Another family of four closing in on me. Awkward silence from my wife. Awkward silence from the family waiting on the tee box. Oldest daughter "encouraging" me not to give up. Youngest daughter can't watch any more of this ramp torture.  

Shot #5: Ball rolls back to me (Out of Bounds, Penalty Stroke). 

Pick up ball. Card "7". 

I was silent and fine until I saw the sunglow on my wife's smiling face. She was fighting laughter... poorly. My kids were already on Hole 8. I was an emotional fragile 8-year-old school boy wondering where it all went wrong. Good news, I recovered. Bad news, my wife got a Hole-In-One on #18 and slammed the door shut on my comeback attempt. Victory is hers. Humility is mine. There was little time for emotional processing. Onward to Grand Prix. 

When we got in line for Go Karts, I did not know what to expect. I did not expect my oldest daughter to qualify as a driver. There I was watching my life flash before my eyes. The Go Kart roar echoing over Donegal like it was the Indianapolis 500. My wife and youngest in the opposite lane, buckling in, a formidable tandem. I was directly behind my first-born, who was equally astonished by being behind the wheel. It was a full lineup of Go Karters. You could feel the energy. A teenage Go Kart expert announced race rules that I could not decipher over the firepower and angst. AND WE ARE OFF!

Here comes a true Dad comment - those Karts have some zip! If Caddie Shak captured my face on that first lap, it would have been a frozen face of "Oh, wow!, Oh, wow?, Oh wow!?!, Oh no!?, Oh yes!, Oh!"

And you just keep going. It felt like we did 500 laps. To see my 9-year-old commanding a Go-Kart amongst other Donegal drivers went from bewildering to blissful. She may or may not have spun out another preteen, breaking the "no bumping" rule. 

"Officer, it is hard not to bump when you are going 100 MPH."

When we left Caddie Shak, my oldest believed she was a better driver. My youngest believed she was a better putter. I don't know what my wife believed. It is hard to read women. I believed we should head to Rockwood and get a bite @ Trailhead Brewing. After trailing most of the day on both the mini golf course and race track, my new nickname could be "Trailhead".

The drive from Donegal to Rockwood was an open country experience; a field of longhorns, an oriole chasing a crow over corn stalks, the sale of maple syrup, topsoil, and firewood around every twist and turn. Upon reaching Trailhead, we were graced with the final songs of a live musical act. I ordered delicious and hearty Italian paninis from The Fat Squirrel Restaurant while my ladies set up shop. Once the music ended, I filtered through the brewery's games, finding the card game, WTF (What The Fish).

13 hours after hopping on my bike, we were in fast-flowing water, shouting What The Fish! in Rockwood. God Bless America.

The girls fell asleep on the ride home. My wife and I looked back on the day that was. We had a lot of laughs. We did not talk about Hole #7. We had a lot of fun. There was one thing left to do before we slept in the house.

We took down the tent.

With Father's Day around the corner, I am grateful for days like this one.  For my wife, who is our engine. For my kids who provide the spark. Crazy about my family, my faith, Mother Nature, and the adventure that is every sunrise. 

Rest up, Johnstown. 

Love lunacy. 

Johnstown Mill Rats Top 10

 In the final week of May, the end of school collided with the beginning of local baseball. The Johnstown Mill Rats, known to be persistent rodents, were back for a 4th season @ the Point Stadium. This was after a winter where there were whispers that the Rats would not be coming back. Have no fear, the Rats returneth. My family was 1st base side for the first two home contests of the year and here is the Top 10:

#10: The First Pitch

There is a nostalgia to baseball that resonates like no other sport. That nostalgia is amplified when the starting pitcher has the first name "George" and a locomotive rolls by on opening night. It looked and sounded like 1964 in that moment. First and foremost, thanks to all the parents who are still naming baby boys George. Hats off to you. Second, let's celebrate that we still have train conductors, or at least I think we do. Not a robot or a super computer, but a real-life human operating a rumbling machine on tracks. As train after train powered by The Point, I cheered for both baseball and train transport. Also, I am actually writing this blog and not having ChatBS write my words for me. Hooray humanity!

#9: The Concession Stand

If my wife and I turned our kitchen into a concession stand, would our children eat more regularly? Also, could this be lucrative? We could drain those piggy banks by the 7th inning stretch. The concession stand is the pearly gate of childhood fandom. Most kids are not what you call "baseball purists". Case in point, during the 7th inning of Game 2, one of my daughter's friends asked me, "What team are we cheering for?" 

#8: "Sugary Nuts"

My 7-year-old announced her excitement for this treat for all of Johnstown to hear. The candied pecan is delicious, but as a father, you have to tone down your daughter's accurate yet somewhat controversial proclamation. You have not lived until you have heard the battle cry for "sugary nuts" from the bleachers. 

#7: Rats Rain

If you thought it was going to be sunshine and rainbows for the Johnstown Mill Rats opening home stand, you are a fool. Johnstown and rats love rain. Our home team started the season 2-0 primarily because of thriving under rain clouds. While the Champion City Kings were warding off hypothermia, the Rats were smiling and blasting the ball into the atmosphere.

#6: Rats Rainbow!

It was a rainbow over the outfield wall in Game 2! A red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet spectacle for all to see. 

Except for my kids, they were at the concession stand driving us into debt. 

#5: "The Squeeze"

In baseball terms, "the squeeze" occurs when a baserunner takes off from third base while a batter bunts the ball. For whatever reason, this is one of the sport's most exhilarating stunts. On opening night, the Mill Rats pulled it off to purist perfection. Back in my Little League glory, I was an accomplished bunter. I never hit a home run because that is obnoxious. Anyone can blast a baseball over a fence. It takes guts and glory to stare a pitcher in the eyeballs, lift your bat horizontally, close your own eyes, pray the ball hits the bat, and then run like hell. 

#4: Tossing

My daughters stepped on the field for both contests, playing in-between inning tossing games. My 7-year-old had to throw a baseball through a tire for one exhibition on opening night. Both girls invested in a water balloon tossing game in Game 2, which also sent shockwaves to the Champion City Kings. They saw two little girls tossing water balloons cheerfully as the rain fell to the Earth. The Mill Rats and their faithful are about to intimidate and then submerge you with water joy. Champion City Kings? More like Defeated Peasants. Dry up and go back to Ohio. 

(I have nothing against Champion City. I'm sure it is lovely).

#3: Milton 

The Mill Rats mascot is of course a rat and his name is Milton. By far, the best on-field antic was when a young boy doused Milton with a water gun to "spray him for ticks" on opening night. This was a hillarious sponsorship deal. Tick removal is no joke yet this got a standing ovation from me. It was Dad joke theatre on the field.

#2: Together 

I am glad the Mill Rats are back. Gratitude to the families who rallied together to make this season possible. I am grateful to have a healthy family in attendance. The weather conditions might not have been ideal, but the company I kept was my favorite. That's my team no matter the forecast. My girls are growing up fast so some slow-it-down baseball puts a lot of things in perspective. You are going to make some errors. You will get some bad bounces. The rain will surely fall. 

But, if you stick with it, and stick together, there is a rainbow coming. 

#1: The Season Ahead

The Johnstown Mill Rats will play into late July. I encourage you to take the family and cheer on young kids playing baseball. Pack an umbrella just in case. Bring plenty of money for the concession stand. 

And most importantly, be a positive contributor to community. 

LET'S GO RATS!

Back to The Blog 2024

 After a lengthy hiatus from the blogosphere, I have triumphantly returned to spread goodness. I am now a 40-year-old writer full of increased wisdom, wit, and self-depricating humor. During my time off from writing, I fell off the front stoop taking out the garbage cans, traveled to Hawaii and Kansas (not the same trip for my geographically challenged readers), and have grown a well-manicured, silvered beard. Or as one grandma put it, "you look like a Civil War reenactment". 

Bless her heart. 

In order to reengage the Internet population and build off my 1860s appearance, let's travel to three basics terrains of community. 

LAND

On this Memorial Day weekend Sunday, a simple message from mass was the hope for a "long life on the land". In our society, 40 is recognized as a turning point birthday that comes with victory and defeat. For every garbage can fall into the grass there is a Hawaii rainbow. I was able to experience both of those moments before I hit "The Big 4-0" and I would like to believe I benefited from the triumph and the tragedy. The Hawaii rainbow is captured in a picture with my beautiful daughters underneath it. The garbage can fall was captured by our security camera. Instead of warding off vandals or identifying trespassing critters, our video surveliance system's greatest use has been repeatedly watching a Monday morning Dad collapse taking out the trash. A truly epic fail that has made so many people laugh and one man acknowledge, thy prime has thy past. 

Alas, I am back on my feet and was back on the course for the 10th edition of The Path of the Flood race this Saturday. I purchased new New Balance shoes for the event. I do not understand how anyone buys shoes online. If there was video surveliance watching me trying on running shoes, it would be a tough watch, but I believe it is necessary. I start out excited, move to confused, retry on shoes as if something changed in the past 30 seconds, and I ultimately get really hot. It is almost more challenging than the race itself. During this one-man Shakespearean shoe play, a friendly teenage worker came back around to ask me "Are you still ok?!?!" clearly identifying I was taking the running shoe purchase to a Death Valley extreme. 

Ultimately, I unconfidently bought a pair of New Balance Tektrels that have the slogan "Revel in The Magnificent Outdoors" inside the shoe. This is an ingenious marketing strategy to reel in the 40-year-old Dad. 

New Balance Shoe Designer #1:  "The Tektrel has a great exterior, but how do we grab the Dads' attention?!?"

New Balance Shoe Designer #2:  "What is on the inside? The part no one can see, except the foot, and the Dad."

New Balance Shoe Designer #1: "Nothing right now..."

New Balance Shoe Designer #2: "What if we wrote 'Revel in the Magnificent Outdoors'?!?"

New Balance Shoe Designer #1:  "Brilliant. Every Dad from the trail runner to the grass cutter is going to freak out."

(End Scene)

In 2022, I did the 8-Mile Run for the Path of the Flood. In 2023, I took a year off because our family of four was traveling to Hawaii two days after the race and I did not want to be sore on the plane. That is responsible parenting. You're welcome, kids. 2024, 8-miles once more, no need to fear the sore. 

Each and every year the Path of the Flood has been a remarkable success thanks to great race direction, dedicated volunteers, and a running community willing to flow like the water. The Staple Bend Tunnel is transformed into a racing cathedral as candles provide a tranquil beam with a sunburst exit into the forest. And then you exit the tunnel, and as one runner summarized, "it is hell from there". Hills and a shadeless landscape to end the race make the outdoor reveling a much more difficult tagline to embrace.

The race ends where my marriage began. In 2013, my wife and I had the first wedding reception at Peoples Natural Gas Park. 11 years into marriage, the celebration continues - as a couple who is grateful for a wonderful hometown community. While she finds running to be punishing and stress inducing, it is a cathartic, cardiovascular mission for this man. An opposition attraction when it comes to running yet a unified belief that supporting local events is our responsibility. Blessed to call Johnstown home and determined to be goodwill ambassadors for the place that will always be a part of us. Great job once again to all the Path of the Flood leaders and volunteers. 

And on Satuday night we participated in another event celebrating YEAR 10. Before she brought two children into existence, my wife helped bring life to an idea known as Taste and Tour. 10 years later, it has become synoymous with Memorial Day Saturday and perfectly paired with the morning's racing event. Each year it gets bigger, sells out, and has become a battle cry for downtown Johnstown. My wife plays the role of General. I am the supportive husband who looks like he fought in Gettsyburg. Match made in Johnstown /Heaven. 

Thanks to all the buisnesses, volunteeers, tasters, and tourers - you are all champions. I hope everyone smoked a cigar Saturday night like they were the 4th place male in the 35 to 44 year old age bracket. 

AIR

In April, we flew to Kansas City, Missouri to visit friends we met in Johnstown. They, a military family, had a brief stay in our hometown yet a lifelong friendship was built inside a church, on trails, in parks, and raising kids one adventure at a time. Our reunions since have taken us to the beach, the Virginia wilderness, and a Kansas farmland. It is amazing how faith and family have no geographic bounds. 

In July, the next airborne adventure will be upon us. Our Kansas City comrades are not on this highly anticipated journey, but two other Johnstown families make up our brigade.  Six parents. Seven children. Alaska, HERE WE COME. 

My daughters are in full support that my beard will be grown fully and magically until we get home from The Last Frontier. Then, upon our return, I will shave it completely and look like a runner who could get 4th place in the under 20 age divison. My wife is more scared of the upcoming shave than the accumulating silver. We all have our crosses to bear. 

SEA

I have not cataloged my "days on water per month" but May 2024 has been aqua advantageous. Four separate embarks on the Stony Creek River this May have yielded water wonderful results. Twice as a canoeist, once on a raft mission to pick up riverside pollutants, and a final family float courtesy of Coal Tubin'. I have canoed the Everglades and the Suwannee River, have tandem kayaked in Canada, have gator toured the Lousiana bayou, and have whitewater rafted West Virginia, but there is something special about having a hometown waterway to explore. 

My wife and I got to experience this year's Stony Creek Rendezvous, an annual tribal trip for whitewater enthusiasts to gather @ Greenhouse Park and throw a Mother Nature party. Our connection this year was via a stewardship event organized by the Watersmith Guild, which sounds majestic and medieval all at once. The guild's website proclaims a mission "to inspire watershed conservation and improve lives through arts and adventure programming."  That mission was absolutely accomplished on the third Friday of this May as dozens of volunteers worked together - to plant riverside trees and then complete a paddle-pick-up of riverbank trash in a coordinated conquest. There was community camaderie in that purposeful paddle. Thanks to my Stony Creek squadron who seized that day. 

Flanking that adventure were my canoe trips that featured everything from a bald eagle sighting to my partner canoeist proclaiming, "We are capsizing!"  Mallards and mayhem on the mighty Stony Creek produced hearty laughs, adrenaline pumps, and an appreciation for our neighborhood's Great Outdoors river. This all led to our family Coal Tubin' this Memorial Day Sunday.

Joining our family of four was my father-in-law in a float for the ages. We started out as an interconnected tube team as this was our daughters first go at the river wild. The Stony Creek sparked my eldest's curiosity as she fired up her motor mouth the minute her toes touched the water. Shortly after the first rapids, I left her to the forces of Nature and her mother. I took her younger sister with me, who proceeded to fall asleep, my angel in a life vest. My youngest was a model of serenity while my oldest dared to ask me "what 365 times 9 is?" at one point trying to pinpoint her currrent days on Earth. 

I sharply answered, "I hate math".

Along our route, the differences between my daughters could not have been more dramatic. One was going to talk us off a cliff while the other would have snoozed over Niagra Falls. One's body could not stop moving, treating the rafts like bumper boats. At the same time, her sister was slipping into an incredible Zen, a bobbing redhead glistening in the sun. I love them both and always will. 

I will always hate math. 

But I cannot end the first blog back with hate. I love to write. I love my family. I am grateful for my faith, friends, and the fellowship that has traveled on land, air, and sea with so many great people to some many great places. 

And yet there is nothing like coming home. 

Positive Johnstown blog is back. Spread good news and keep your head above water. 

(Editor's Note: 365 x 9 = 3,285)

Awesome Autumn Top 10

 This autumn has been awesome. Here is a colorfully worded Top 10 for the season:

#10: Fantastic Fall Foliage

Only one season is known for its foliage. No one says the word "foliage" outside of fall. Stranger danger if you here "spring foliage". This autumn has been a red, orange, and yellow treetop burst. 90% of my ancient Iphone's pictures over the last two months are of my daughters and/or fall foliage. The other 10% of the pictures are photos taken when my daughters gain unauthorized use of my cell phone - this robber photography is for all seasons and will not be tolerated.  

#9: Marvelous Music

On the 3rd Friday of October, our family adventured to Ryan's Artisan Goods for a soulful Spanish musical performance. Atayay Robles played some original tunes while our family of four nourished our bodies with pizza. My 7-year-old daughter and I Crayola colored while rhythmically moving to the beat. I had two years of high school Spanish. She has just begun dabbling in the language; thus, we were on a level translation playing field. 

A day later, my wife and I attended the final concert in a series atop Bottle Works. The Evergreens entertained the crowd with their music and by playing that music as a duo from 1988, the year Beetlejuice was released. Beetlejuice drummed, Lydia sang, and we enjoyed a night out without our precious children. 

#8: Incredible Ice Hockey

After Atayay's calming musical numbers, we transitioned to the barbaric world of minor league hockey. It was a Friday night of soul and violence. My 7-year-old was shot out of a cannon excited to watch the Johnstown Tomahawks. My 5-year-old was initially shot out of the same cannon and then passed out before the 3rd period started. Up 1-0 in the 3rd, the home team was in good position. Then, hockey went haywire. Fluke goal, shorthanded goal, powerplay goal. Down 3-1. Then, it was 3-2. Then 4-2. Then 4-3. Then a final minute where fans screamed, young men roughed each other up in the corner of a skating rink, one lady stayed dedicated to her cowbell, and my youngest daughter slobbered on my shoulder. A symphony of screams and a gentle snore. A hockey night in Johnstown. 

#7: Great Golf 

Any golf in October is great. Any month of the year I golf, it is mediocre. Birdies are rare, pars are earned, bogeys are common. Beyond bogeys are more common than birdies. An advantage to autumn golf is that you can always stop searching for your ball and just admire the fall foliage. 

"I'll take a penalty stroke. Can you believe how colorful that maple is!?" (take picture)

#6: Power Punch Parades

The Fort Ligonier Days parade always has something to spice up the experience. This year we stumbled upon Sugar Frills, an entreprenurial mind blow. Cotton candy with Pop Rocks?  Is that street legal? We actually know the owners of this ambitious undertaking so we obviously had to buy this weapon of mass destruction for our kids. It was wildly entertaining to watch the cotton candy grow and to see Pop Rocks gently patterned on top, like tinsel on a Christmas tree. Our daughters' eyes grew with anticipation. The eyes of the parents grew in fear. Dentists revolted. 

On the way home from the parade, the girls crashed hard in the Subaru. Thank you Sugar Frills for instilling joy and inducing naps. 

Ten days later, the Johnstown Halloween parade required more cardio and less sugar rush. I was the only member of our family not walking in the parade as one of the Girl (Ghoul) Scouts. My job was to gain righteous curbside position and drink a hot chocolate from Flood City Cafe. Mission accomplished. 

My ghouls were at the beginning of the parade, thus we got to enjoy much of the spectacle together once we were reunited. One boisterous young boy demanded that every passing vehicle beep. He would have been arrested if it were not a parade. The only aggression shown to this boy was by a maniac with a chainsaw, another parade stunt you cannot pull off in daily living - approaching a child in a threatening manner with a mechanically-powered cutting tool. 

Never operate a chainsaw while eating Pop-Rocks cotton candy. 

#5: Phenomenal Fest

Stone Bridge Brewing's 2022 Oktoberfest was held on a perfectly crisp Saturday. Seasonal libations, German cuisine, and fall fellowship ruled the day. The end of Franklin Street transformed into a tented community of adulting. Parents told stories about their children, grateful the children were not present to interrupt. When children did come in close proximity, all parents without their kids thought or said "I'm so glad my kids aren't here".

#4: Excellent Education 

A gang of Girl Scouts attended a Stackhouse Park hike that concluded with Mother Nature's greatest gift - candy. All hikers roamed the Earth and learned about trees. Some scouts did more roaming than listening. There are hunters. There are gathers. And there are frolickers. We are all community members and it was a great day to be in the wilderness. 

For the Trick-or-Treat portion of the event, I was one of the candy passer outers. I may or may not have taken an Almond Joy for myself.

#3: Radiant Reptile

On a Wednesday night in October, I took a brigade of women to watch Lyle, Lyle Crocodile @ Westwood Plaza Theatre. I've always been a proponent of watching singing/dancing animals as a stress-reliever. The motion picture industry has time and time again relied on a range of communicating creatures to light up the screen. Thanks to Lyle for a fun loving musical message - sing your heart out and show love to your family. 

#2: Brillant Boneyard

Every Halloween downtown Johnstown's Central Park is staged as the Park Boneyard. A plot of the park is dedicated to death and dancing. A setlist is played by skeletons and zombies appearing on a screen while choregraphed torches flash fire into the autumn air. Our girls stand right up against the rope and we give them their space to enjoy the show. Standing behind them, my wife and I say sentimental things like, "Look how big they are getting" and "we are blessed". 

Shortly after that one of us says, "Touch that rope one more time we are going home." 

or "I'm NOT putting you on my shoulders."

or "THAT'S ENOUGH!" (reader's pick for the behavior that must stop).

#1: Triple Terrific Trick-or-Treat

The Stackhouse Park stroll was just the beginning of our candy circuit. The Community Treat @ Penn Highlands Community College was a smashing and spooky success. The college's employees and volunteers provided an extensive and well-executed Haunted Hallway, craft cafeteria, and trick-or-treat route. We took a picture of our girls with the giant black bear statue to commemorate the event, a traditional photo-op any time we are at Penn Highlands. Bravo Bear and Bear keepers, a heck of a haunt. 

Days later, we attended the Halloween Hullabaloo @ the Johnstown Heritage Discovery Center. Heckofaboo Round 2! This candy craving event included a map if you were brave enough to cross Broad Street. Local businesses were prepared for candy monsters and we made our presence known. In Cambria City Flowers and Brigid's Cross Religious and Spiritual Treasures, we played the time-honored game of "Don't Touch Anything".  A witch came out of the Ryan's Artisan Goods kitchen to provide treat bags. I was hoping for an eyeball stew, but there is always next year. 

Once we got all our map stamps, we headed to Island Cuisine for a hearty meal (no eyeballs). When initially crossing Broad Street we actually stopped at this new restaurant first, got a stamp of approval, and vowed to return. And I am glad we did. Jerk chicken, collared greens, mac-n-cheese, and more hit the spot. We even got a taste test of goat. That's some great goat. I'll never forget the Halloween surprise of my 5-year-old closing her eyes and loving her some goat. 

Pounds heavier, we darted back across Broad Street to participate in the rest of the Discovery Center madness. There were 2nd floor games with my favorite being the putting contest into a pumpkin. I also enjoyed pretending to be a dead man and fishing partner of the skeleton on the 3rd floor boat (classic Dad move..."Honey, take a picture!")

One more Trick-or-Treat scheduled for tomorrow night. Alive, well, and ready for one more route as a family. 

A big thanks to the entire community for making autumn awesome! Happy Halloween!

A Storybook Summer

From an astrological point of view, there are a few days left in the 2022 summer; however, academia and Pumpkin Spiced Latte traditionally crown the arrival of autumn in late August. Any way I seasonally slice it, this summer has been a smashing success. I'll start in spring...

In May, our family of four boarded a plane to Utah. A postponed 2020 wedding anniversary trip was repackaged as a "take your kids to the mountains" extravaganza. Not only did we conquer The Beehive State, we pioneered into Wyoming and Idaho. This westward expansion expedition set the stage for a big time 2022 summer. 

If the 2020 and 2021 summers had limitations or restrictions, the 2022 summer responded with a dynamite blast of free range bigness. I believe my children evolved into more versatile explorers because of the pandemic, so in a weird way, I am grateful for that wacky era of their childhood. Rough and tough moments on the frontier shaped character. For every moment of madness our family had a breakthrough response of gratitude. The purple mountain majesty of the Utah skyline was the the grateful pinnacle for this Dad. 

When we returned to Pennsylvania, school was winding down and summer glory was on the horizon. The blur of the season took us as far south as Virginia for our annual family beach vacation and as far north as Canada. Yes, my wife and I left our children behind for a weekend to attend a wedding in Canada, a border bonkers itinerary that included getting my passport renewed in Detroit the day of the wedding. It was an International Lampoon vacation that will go down as one of the most absurd adventures in our history. Thank you grandparents for protecting our young while we danced feverishly in Canada. 

On the homefront, Stackhouse Park continued to be a consistent community connector. The final Sunday of August attracted a wide variety of human life to Mother Nature for the growing phenomenon known as Art in the Park. Wilderness, art, music, grub, and libations all packaged together near a grassy knoll. I ran the arduous 5K that morning in Stackhouse to ensure no Dad guilt upon devouring the grub. I sprawled out on that knoll post-race and fed my face. Mission accomplished. 

 Art in the Park gets bigger and better each year and the 2022 event was special as it ushered in the newest Stackhouse attraction, Johnstown StoryWalk. This recently designed trail gives familes cardiovascular literary power - a walk-and-read concept snuggly south of the park's play area. My daughters got to be a part of the ribbon cutting ceremony. This was after about 5+ hours of Art in the Park family frolicking, so emotions were running a little high. It took some convincing to read and walk, but we survived.  From the Utah mountains to our backyard park, we just gotta keep climbing. Special thanks to the John B. Gunter Leadership Initiative for bringing stories to life in Stackhouse Park for years to come. 

And while everything written above I consider to be epic, there might have been no greater singular achievement than last week when my 7-year-old daughter caught a hot dog. It was tossed by an Altoona Curve employee. He stood on a dugout. She stood on an invisible cloud of excitement. He looked her dead in the eyes and released a targeted hot dog toss, the tin foil glistening in the galaxy. Her reaction to a clean snag was priceless. A free hot dog. The happiest damn 7-year-old on Planet Earth. Thanks Altoona Curve, you put on a great show. 

On this past Saturday night, we sat out on our balcony and relived the Utah trip - a little trivia from a big adventure goneby. The stories will live on and more adventures will come. Johnstown as home base is a blessing. 

Share an experience and pass on a positive story. 

Welcome, Autumn. See you in 2023, Summer. 

Midsummer Parenting Top 10

 The midsummer parent is unique to the season. Here is my Top 10 on the trials and tribulations of raising young in the heat of it all:

#10: Roomtime

Once the school year is over, the concept of bedtime evolves from a structured sequence of events to watching America's Got Talent until everyone falls asleep on the couch. At some point, the midsummer parent declares "It is time to go to your room."  Our daughters share slumber chambers, so they can travel together. We are not even suggesting that you need to go to bed. We just want you both in one geographic location that gives you the luxury of a bed if you choose to lay upon it. And it cannot be our bedroom because it is ours. Enjoy the Central Air and we will see you at sunrise. 

#9: Water Cleansing 

The midsummer parent can justify why a shower is not needed today. You swam all day? That will work. You ran through the sprinkler? Refreshed by me. You watered the flowers and your feet at the same time? That will do. It is 9:43 PM? Roomtime. 

#8: Pizza

My wife found an Internet proverb that surmised that children once believed Friday pizza nights were because their parents wanted to have a fun tradition. The children now realize it was because their parents were tired. And in midsummer, Fridays seem to happen more often. Like on Tuesdays. 

And Thursdays. 

And definitely Saturdays. 

And Mondays if anyone is open. 

#7: Sunscreen Scavenger Hunt 

In our family, SPF 55 is everywhere - under the sink, on the kitchen floor, maybe behind a shrub in the front yard. Sometimes we like to have a bottle marinate in the Subaru. Nothing like applying magma hot SPF 55 on a midsummer day. I know it looks like a heavy coat of white paint, but it will wash off in the pool. We will ask you, "Did you put on more sunscreen? every hour until the sun goes down. The midsummer parent usually takes responsibility for the first coat and then it is up to someone else. 

"Can someone get my back?!?!?" (everyone in the family)

#6: Coffee

A midsummer parent sometimes thinks or says aloud, "It is too damn hot for coffee." And about 8 seconds later, he or she takes that first glorious morning sip. Sure, it is humid and you are sweating, but you deserve this moment. My wife recently asked me if I wanted Island Coconut K-Cups on Amazon, or maybe it was from the Amazon... The only issue was that they only come in a bulky 96 count. 

I asked what the issue was.

All 96 were delivered by the next day...

By canoe. 

#5: Lemonade

It is important that a midsummer parent provide nourishment to growing kids. Lemonade falls under fruit and is directly under the pizza peak of the pyramid. 

#4: Passport 

A midsummer parent gets invited to a wedding in Canada. He strategizes how to pull this off from childcare logistics to travel itinerary to ensuring he meets Covid standards to acquiring Canadian money. He and his wife devise a bulletproof plan, a majestic midsummer getaway.

The man's passport is expired. He now watches Youtube videos on how to achieve passport renewal in an urgent situation. It is 5:45 AM, 82 degrees, and the Island Coconut tastes less tropical. 

Dad is an idiot. 

#3: Coin Counting     

A midsummer parent might start cashing in coins. There was a coin shortage at one point, everything is expensive, and children can learn that every penny counts. Some Dads separate all the pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters, and the "what the hell is this?!?" currency. They show their kids how you have to package coins into tightly wrapped cylinders and then be proud of your work. 

Then, Mom calls the bank and they have a machine that you just dump all the change into and get cold hard cash. 

Dad is an idiot. 

And is sweating. 

#2: Flip Flop Minefield     

Midsummer is the height of flip flop treachery. They are everywhere, being tripped upon on a daily basis. Most midsummer parents who trip on a poorly placed flip-flop either kick it, don't even realize they just tripped, or protect their coffee. Missing flip flop reports go out on a weekly basis. A lost yellow flip-flop could be found in the car after 72 hours of no one really caring. Sock laundry numbers are way down. The closest thing to a shoe is a Croc and that's an acceptable alternative for almost anything - scootering, playground play, climbing a mountain. 

#1: Midsummer Memories

The midsummer parent is young at heart. He or she understands the thrill of summer does not last forever. Soak it in and reapply. Sunrise to sunset, a blessed time to be a parent. 

"IT IS TIME TO GO TO YOUR ROOM!" (scary screaming midsummer parent)