Prom Prom

Just about a month before High School graduation!

Rah Rah Ree! Kick 'em in the knee! 

Rah Rah Rass! Kick 'em in the other knee!

Yeah, there are some classes left, but mostly it is about finishing strong - socially.  Buy a Year Book, get lots of signings from classmates, get ready for life changing events, like Senior Prom.  The reality is that the academic year is shot - and everyone knows it from the principal on down to the Life Skills teacher.

Discrete inquiries have been made as Grant passes through the living room with ear buds plugged deep into his skull; "Son, do you think you will be going to Senior Prom this year?" 
"Yeah. Probably."
"Will you being taking a girl or anything like that?"
"Maybe."
"Speaking for you mother and me, I am glad that is settled.  Goodnight."

Observing the adolescent life is much like watching a duck in a pond; mostly what I notice is Grant sitting for hours at the computer with his ipod hung from his temples, similar to a duck idly floating in the pond.  But like the view of the duck from below the water's surface, you will notice furiously paddling feet; likewise, the serene continence of youth may not reflect at all the furious complexities swirling beneath the life's surface.

Later, another discrete inquiry on the subject of Senior Prom, elicited a half-formed plan from Grant to ask Emma to go with him to the Prom.  But there was a problem. The problem was that Emma no longer lived in town, in fact Emma no longer lived in the hemisphere.  Emma lives in New Zealand.  It now appears that the limousine charges to import Emma for the prom would be a bit rich.  Emma was an exchange student and friend of Grant's, who returned home at the end of last semester, though Emma may return to Garland for graduation ceremonies, she won't be in town for prom. 

On second thought, Grant opined that girls can be way too complicated.  It is dicey as to whether one can correctly read their minds, live up to expectations and make all the right moves for a whole, entire pressure-packed social evening.  He and his buddies considered the consequences and dangers of being formally attached to just a single female for the entire evening and opted to go with the "group strategy".  This "group strategy" has been used as a survival strategy by small fish fleeing from barracudas, wildebeests fleeing from hunting lionesses and employed with similar success by less socially savvy school boys when thrown in amongst graduating Senior Girls in expensive prom dresses.  Any social awkwardness can be diffused amongst the group much more readily than within a formal couple, and with social pressure lowered while employing the group survival strategy, the boys have a much better chance at enjoying the evening.  Though, it is acceptable to pair-off for a "picture date"; where a couple will stand in front of the camera and record the moment, two-by-two.

With no formal pairings for the prom, money is saved, expectations lowered and the peaceable kingdom where everyone can be "just friends" reigns.  Grant had his plan in place and all was well with the world.

Then, one Sunday evening, Grant was asked  by Kerrie to accompany her to the Berkner High School Prom in Richardson, the next suburb to the west.  Of course, being imbued with more social grace than many of his peers he accepted.

Just when he thought he had it all planned out....
Keep those duck feet paddling below the surface, because now he has two prom ponds to navigate.

Senioritis

Crazy. Distorted Priorities. Devoid of honest value.  Dysfunctional. Out-dated.
All terms that apply to our High School educational system.

My opinions and ideas for solutions for a fix to the education we tax payers provide to our youth goes way beyond the narrow scope of this blog's subject matter; but who can blame a young man from taking advantage of what the system offers?

This week, across the state, it is TAKS Week.  A mandatory Test of Academic Knowledge and Skills.  State officials keep changing the test acronym and the rules to fix the results, making schools and students look better than they are, thus defeating the whole accountability in education concept for which TAKS was devised.  One quirk that benefits the above average students (like my kids) is that High School Seniors who have met the minimal standards on the TAKS test are not required to take the end-of-year tests in April.  Thus, since the whole school is occupied with administering the TAKS test for grades 9-11, the 12th Grade does not have to show up until 10:30 from Tuesday - Friday of this week.  This is a 3 hour sleep-in gift for Seniors.  At 10:30, they have to report so they can be counted as present, and thus maintain funding from the state, which is based on attendance.  But after the students are acknowledged present (keeping state funding intact), there is no reason to stick around campus since no classes are being conducted, so they drift away for a "long lunch".

Faced with a 4-day week of acronyms, Grant organized a group of friends to substitute IHOP for TAKS on their first day of no-school school.  A leisurely breakfast, then off to school to have their noses counted for funding (non-educational) purposes, and then a day of Ultimate Frisbee in the park.

It is good to be a Senior.

Senioritis: There is No known cure; but but it is recommended that symptoms be indulged by allowing those afflicted to sleep until mid-morning, upon waking they should be plied with carbohydrates soaked with sugary syrup, followed by afternoon activity in the Springtime sun.

OMG IHOP B4 TAKS N the AM, OK?



Exploding Easter & Hoppin-ings

Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they were on their way to tomb and asked each other, "who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?"

But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away.  As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed.

Account of The First Easter

The Gospel of Mark (16:2-5)

Not that I wish to make any grandiose claims or messianic comparisons between the Gospel accounts of the unexpected empty tomb of Jesus on that first Easter morning with what went on in my kitchen oven on Easter morning of this year - but, I must admit that I and the dog were both alarmed.

Sue was still part of the celebration at Preston Hollow Presbyterian, while Grant was packing up from his gig with Impact, where he plays bass guitar for the band during worship at First Presbyterian, Richardson.  Sue had baked an angel food cake the night before, reasoning that those rude angels always seem to be showing up unexpectedly around Easter, it is best to have some angel food for them just in case they come to our house. Unannounced.  Don't want to look like Mary Magdalene and get caught unawares.  So, with dessert already done ahead of time, it  fell to me to get the Pascal Feast started while the others were still away.

The main course this year (something new) was corned beef.  I went online to get directions for time/temp for a 3 lb brisket.  While marveling at all things corned beef available on the web, I stumbled across rave reviews for corned beef slow cooked in Guinness Irish stout beer and brown sugar.  I did not have the proper beer bottles, and doubted I could find a liquor store open on Easter Sunday morning, so I substituted a jug of wine from Misters Ernest and Julio Gallo.

Easter, all the old has passed away, and behold all things have been made new. 

A new table cloth, best china set and silver place settings were laid out...

WHAR-RUUUUMPH!

My, my, what is going on in the kitchen?

The dog, who was lying peacefully near the front door, was ready to spring up and run for the hills, his eyes were bugged out, his mouth was drawn so taught that his jowls looked like crumpled foil torn from a chocolate bunny, and while he usually pins his ears back when nervous; this occasion, I believe his ears had actually crossed behind his skull, left ear on the right side, right ear on the left side.  I left the dinning room and rounded into the kitchen to find the oven door blown open. 

It is an Easter Miracle! 
The pseudo-sacrament of the empty tomb! 
Just as the women found the stone sealing the tomb of Christ unexpectedly rolled away that Easter morn, I too found the sealed oven holding corned beef brisket unexpectedly open.  I peered inside the now open oven and beheld a brisket arrayed in dazzling silver (i.e. wrapped in aluminium foil).  The nature of most of the miracles recorded in the Gospels is that those seeking the Kingdom of God see and comprehend the miracles, while those doubting the power of God continue in skepticism and miss the signs of God at work.  Was I visited by angel?  Was this a sign?  While I believe in the empty tomb and the resurrection; I think several cups of wine mixed with 3/4 cups brown sugar set at 425 degrees (F) creates explosive alcohol vapors, but does not an angel visitation make.

I poked a few holes into the shroud of foil and resealed the oven door.  A few minutes later, the same phenomena, only less intense.  But, still enough to send the dog trotting discretely upstairs, far from the Exploding Easter Happening.

Pyrotechnics aside, everything did get cooked and set before our family table of three pilgrims.  Our pascal Feast included:

• Corned Beef Brisket (cooked with drama)
• Garden Fresh salad of lettuce & tomatoes (picked from the garden moments before)
• Artichokes
• Asparagus
• Rice Pilaf
• Fresh baked Focaccio Bread
• Strawberries
• Riesling wine & "Red Stuff" (Cranberry juice + 7-Up)
• Dessert (from the Easter Basket): Jelly beans, rock candy, M&M's, Chocolate Bunny & Angel food Cake

We feasted on fine food, gave thanks for all that we have been given and celebrated God's Grace.

Jesus loves me, this I know --
But I am not so sure about that Easter Bunny

Suite Deal!

Our first attempt at celebrating a delayed 25th anniversary with a getaway to Fort Worth on April 14, was fumbled by the Hilton Hotel [see Heartbreak Hotel; April, 2011].  Reservation for a room were confirmed, but to our dismay, the Hilton was overbooked and I choose to negotiate with manager for price cut and upgrade accommodations for a return the following week, April 21.

I called ahead this second time to make sure we had a room to our specifications.  The clerk assured us we would be find everything as requested.  Upon arrival in the lobby early Thursday evening, I asked for the manager with whom I had dealt with the previous week to let her know we had returned after having our reservation sold out from under us the last time.  She said she thought we would be pleased once we inspected our upgraded room, but if not, call the front desk and she would accommodate us.

I provided a credit card and we were given the keys to Hilton Room 1530. 

Portrait in JFK Presidential Suite

Actually, Room 1530 is more correctly referred to as rooms (plural).  We had been booked into the Presidential Suite and also linked to a bit of history.  The Fort Worth Hilton was where John and Jackie Kennedy stayed on November 21, 1963; after giving a speech in the Hilton ballroom that morning, the Kennedy motorcade left Ft. Worth for a parade in Dallas and by that afternoon, many would argue, an age of  innocence and optimism ended for America.  Though the Kennedy's stayed on the 8th floor of the Hilton (I am guessing the 15 Floor was an addition some time later), Room 1530 in known as the JFK Presidential Suite. 

Our Dining Room for a night in JFK Suite

Bed Room Suite
Very Comfortable

It was stunning and quite fun to open the double wooden doors, enter a hallway lined with photos from the Kennedy Whitehouse; at the end of the hall, cloakroom and water closet on the right; then a lavish dinning room and wet bar opens to the right of the hallway and a living area on the left, both hung with large chandeliers from a 15-foot ceiling.  Behind these two spacious common areas, decorated with a Kennedy portrait and numerous photos; were two bed rooms.  We selected the king-sized bed with luxurious bath area with step-down large tub.  Separate queen beds were available in the other room, but we were not sharing with anyone that night, so those bed remained unruffled.  We estimate the JFK Presidential Suite was about the size of our house.  As we walked out of the hotel for dinner, I stopped by the from desk to express my satisfaction with the upgrade -- and I had to ask; "What would be the listed charges for a night's stay in Room 1530?"  The clerk provided a little drum roll, and the manager said it would normally be let for $2,500 per night - base rate.

After sleeping in the next morning, we dressed in the bathrobes provided by the Hilton and documented a views of our upgraded room - living like the other half for a night.  Pretty fun.

Looking Ambitious in the Morning
Outside Presidential Bed Room Suite

Kennedy Motorcade
Photo Collection in Entry Hall

Reclining in Suite Living Area



Morning View from Living Area
JFK Suite

The JFK Suite also comes with breakfast in the exclusive executive lounge down the hall on the 15th Floor.

Having a hard time making Breakfast by 9

For our night in Fort Worth, an inimitably walkable, and comfortable town, we strolled out of the Hilton lobby and went exploring for our dinner.  We settled for a fondue restaurant six blocks north of the hotel, and ordered the 4 course dinner, including a cheese fondue with bread and vegetables, six items for the main course, including shrimp, scallops, tuna, chicken, pork and bacon-wrapped beef.  A raspberry chocolate fondue for dessert. 

In the morning we checked out and landed in the museum district, where we toured the Amon G. Carter Museum of American Art where they had a very enjoyable exhibition of the Hudson River School painters, known for their luminescent landscapes.  We then walked over to the world class Kimball Museum and viewed their European paintings (including the first know painting by Michelangelo) and their collection of Buddhist art.  A late lunch back at Sundance Square in Ft Worth, where Sue found a glutten-free Chicago-style pizza place. 

While we were out of town for Thursday and Friday, Grant saw the opportunity to take advantage of a nest devoid of parents. He asked if he could have Sam and Collin over, and was given the thumbs up. "You never tell me 'No'", said Grant, in what appeared to be a mix of appreciation and awe.

The first order of business was to purchase Nerf tomahawks, and have a battle at the local park (not that we need say anything - but Not inside the House). While acquiring their weapons, Grant saw six 4-packs of the fabulous key lime soda, a rare commodity - and bought them all and brought them home. The Three, kept the house in some semblance of order, but I found the recycle bin half filled with empties - empty Stewart's Key Lime Soda and IBC Rootbeer bottles. They watched a couple of movies late into the night, but when they put in a Robert Duvall soccer movie around 4 AM, they all promptly fell asleep. The party guests were gone by Noon-thirty.

Trinity Trek

Audubon Center on the Banks of the Trinity Rover
South of Downtown Dallas

Yesterday, our Friday Fling was an exploration of urban Dallas, Saturday was a flip to the other side of the same coin, a rural exploration of Dallas environs.  After a brunch among scents of numerous roasted coffees at Cafe Brazil, we set out for the recently opened Audubon Center build in the reclaimed Trinity River bottom land.  We hiked along cattail rimmed bird ponds, down to the banks of the muddy Trinity and back through Juniper dominated floodplain groves.

Join us a leisurely stroll on the interwoven trails of Dallas' Audubon Nature Center:

The trail begins in wetland habitat



We subscribe to Turtle Philosophy:
Nothin' better than a sunny Saturday at the edge of the pond



Friday Fling

Unlike in the Eagles song Hotel California, "where you can check out anytime you like - but you can never leave"; at Elvis' Heartbreak Hotel, you can leave.  In fact, in our Heartbreak Hotel experience at the Ft. Worth Hilton (see: Heartbreak Hotel, April 2011) we never really did check in, but we did leave (and in a huff).  Then, after a late dinner, we returned to Dallas that Thursday night.

Getting up Friday morning from our own bed, somewhat late, we opted to have a 'staycation' in Dallas, rather than visit the attractions in Ft Worth, as was our original Friday plans.  For something new, we decided to visit a section of Dallas that we had never seen before, North Oak Cliff neighborhood.  NOC is on the south bank of the Trinity River and has many homes an businesses that date back to the early 20th Century, and has developed an identity as a somewhat bohemian community replete with small restaurants and art galleries clustered in the 'Bishop Arts District'.

We lunched at bodega Bolsa on their patio and sipped pinot noir alongside our sandwiches.  We then wandered into the the Bishop Arts District and ducked into many of the shops, and as usual, scratched our heads wondering how these galleries make a go of it selling chihuahua skeletons with feathers tied to the bones (List Price: $575).  Should the proprietor try and interest me in a purchase, I might tell him: "You know I just LOVE what is being done with this piece! I admire the bold statements and subtle perception that is brought out in art - but to be honest, the chihuahua skeleton just doesn't bring what I need to tie everything in my bedroom together."

Now for something more in-line with most people's taste; we walked a few blocks and opened the door to the chocolatier, Dude, Sweet Chocolate.  Free samples for all who enter.  We tried their unusual 'earthy offering' that included mushrooms with the chocolate toffee and other more prosaic concoctions and opted to buy a box of chocolates with a variety of unusual center fillings.  We do not need a host from the Heartbreak Hotel to put little chocolates on our pillow, we can now do it ourselves.  After chocolates, it was a mid-afternoon snack stop at the Greek Cafe.  Iced tea and baklava for each.

Just as we sat down for our snack, Sue's phone rang; it was a stressed and harangued friend who was upset and about to quit her job and she needed to talk.  Sue disappeared out the cafe door to take the call outside.  After awhile the proprietor came by and inquired, "Where did your wife go?"  I shrugged.  He then proceeded to tell me about how he had big fight that morning with his wife, only to get a call from her later informing him that she was in the hospital (as the story unfolded, she was in for a scheduled routine check up).  I listened as best I could to his story, related in a thick Greek accent exacerbated by the flopping of his dentures.  Now I was enjoying a classic Greek snack and a classic Greek tragedy.  Both finished upon Sue's return.

By afternoon, the wind-whipped sky had turned to a murky, pink-tinged gray.  The strong wind gusts of up to 50 mph had blown in the red dust from West Texas along with smoke from several large brush fires 70-100 miles north and west of the DFW Metroplex.  The local news reported that evening that the Main Street Arts Festival in Ft Worth had been closed down over several blocks as the wind ripping through the downtown canyon and shredded several exhibitor's canvas booths and sent art pieces flying.  Maybe hanging around Ft Worth that day was not all we thought it was cracked up to be.

Heartbreak Hotel

Heartbreak Hotel -- Fort Worth Hilton

Elvis sings of about dwelling at the end of Lonely Street in Heartbreak Hotel where;

Now, the bell hop's tears keep flowin'

And the desk clerk's dressed in black

Well, they been so long on Lonely Street

They'll never ever look back.

My Good Idea:

With our actual factual wedding anniversary date spoken for with other commitments (see: Connecting Dots & Connecting Stripes; April, 2011); my good idea was to postpone the celebration of our 25th Anniversary for about 15 days to coincide with a four-day empty nest.  Grant would be out of town for 4-days playing with his high school orchestra at the Panama City, Florida Music Festival (see: The Music Man; April, 2011), we empty nesters could really celebrate our 25th Wedding Anniversary over a multi-day stretch.

Bride and Groom discussed possibilities, and decided that since Sue has Friday's off, we could get a room Thursday night in Fort Worth, visit some international caliber art museums and enjoy some of the many cultural attractions and restaurants within walking distance around our downtown hotel.  Our planned date coincided with the big Main Street Arts Festival.  We tried to book online with Hilton Honors Points, but found the Hilton all booked up on 14th.

My Good Idea - Plan B:
Rather disappointed that Plan A did not work out, I made reservation for the following Thursday, April 21. We could still do a Friday Fling, tour and dine as originally planned, but the empty-nest weekend around the house would be preempted by Grant's return to our family. Our son would be able to take care of the dog in our absence. Reservations were made online, points were awarded for booking a room 1 week after we really wanted it. "Be flexible" - it has given us a good 25 years.

My Good Idea - Plan C:

Plan C looks a lot like Plan A.  It was suggested that I keep trying to book a room online for the 14th, in case there were any cancellations.  And try I did.  On Tues. afternoon, the 12th, my reservation for 1 Room (non-smoking) with 1 Bed (King size) were confirmed.  I emailed the bride at work that we were good to go on the 14th - back to Plan A!  This is what we wanted and persistence paid.

After a very bad day and too long of a day at work for Sue, things were mostly put back together and she came home and finished packing.  We were free and the problems of our day were in our rear view mirror. 

Except for the delay in front of us because some bozoita was texting and ran her car into the concrete median barrier and shut down all lanes of traffic.  Once rerouted off the highway and around the single-car smash-up, we were free and the problems of our day were in our rear view mirror.

Except for the minor difficulty in navigating the one-way streets in Ft. Worth as well as having many blocks closed to traffic for the Main Street Festival.  Once we did some zigging and zagging, we found were free and our problems were in our rear view mirror.

Except that when I walked to the front desk and told the clerk that the Sunesons were checking in, she began to twitch and strain her face muscles and motioned for the manager to come to her computer while she continued to punch various keys.  I had left the rear view mirror with the valet service, so it now appeared to me that we had another problem in front of us.

"I am sorry Mr. Suneson, but all that we have for you tonight is a room with 2 queen beds, is that all right?"

No, I said sternly, I have confirmed reservations for a room with a single king bed.  Well, she said that they could sent us to another motel 12 miles north of downtown that has a king bed.  No, we have confirmed reservations for downtown, so we could walk to several of our venues around downtown; it is unacceptable to find my confirmed reservation are not being honored.

Meanwhile, a father, mother and daughter where in heated discussions with another clerk fumbling with the computer next to our clerk's.  While I was furiously insisting on having my reservation honored, I took in part of the the other family's dilemma; they were just in from Omaha, had reservations at the Hilton so they could check their daughter into one of the local universities (Texas Christian Univ.) - only they we being told that there was no room available for them, despite their confirmation number.  Voices were being raised in stereo across the front desk.  The Omaha family insisted on an explanation, and was told, "Hotels, like the airlines, are allowed to overbook, in expectation that some times people will cancel their reservations, so this is what happen to you and why you do not have a room tonight."  Wrong answer.  Mother was almost in tears, daughter was upset and the clerk was fortunate to still have her head connected.

Sue and I stepped back from the front desk to counsel among ourselves and consider our options.  As we stepped back from the polished cherrywood counter, which was now acting as an insufficient barrier between young cowering clerks facing an uncertain future at the hands of frothing angry families, another party stepped into where we were just standing.  They were part of a wedding party booked at the Hilton and were told that, true, they did not have a room despite having reservations.  The howling along the front desk was now moving beyond stereo and was on the level of Dolby THX Surround Sound.  "Oh my!" belched the woman in the wedding party, "and Claire hasn't checked in yet either, and she is THE BRIDE!  Did you give away her room too!?"  No, no, the Bride has a room; but sorry we have overbooked....

My Great Idea:

If a football coach kicks a successful field goal and puts 3 points on the score board, but then benefits from a penalty on the play that would give him a second shot at scoring a touch down for 6 points; the coaching maxim is, Never Take Points Off the Board.  Keep the  lesser but certain outcome.  I had earlier in the week received an email from the Hilton asking me to confirm or cancel my reservation on the 21st (Plan B).  I did neither.  I was not going to give up anything until I knew it was of no value. Don't take points off the board.

Since we had to go to Plan B and reserve the date of April 21, rather than our preferred April 14 date; I actually had two Hilton reservations in play.  My idea of holding all my cards until the last possible moment in the event I would have to play them if things took a bad turn, was in hindsight a great idea.

My Brilliant Idea:

From our out-of-earshot distance in the middle of the lobby, I watched the small band of huddled clerks and their stressed manager acting as if they were gazelles surround by cheetahs that were about to verbally rip them to pieces by scowls, snarls and letters to the management.  With no appeasement possible for their disappointed and angry guests, I returned to the front desk and beckoned the manager.  I told her that their policy and minimal offer of putting us up north of town was not at all acceptable.  But, I do have a valid reservation for next week and I will give up our room tonight with its 2 beds, to this family (from Omaha) if you upgrade my next week's reservation and cut the price.  With obvious relief and a sigh of salvation, she said we would have an Executive Suite and then added a complimentary breakfast to the package, she would take off $100 from the quoted rate for our original room.  She wrote her name and personal number on sheet of paper and confirmed our reservations and comps for next week, "call before you arrive and I will personally make sure everything is in order".  The Omaha family rushed over and thanked us profusely and shook my hand heartily and wished us both a happy anniversary.

That settled.  We wandered down Main Street at 9 PM, found Mi Cocina with a patio.  I ordered two margaritas as we poured ourselves into our patio chairs awaiting an order of Carne Asada and Bacon wrapped Shrimp Brochettes. 
"Say, Love, was today more stressful than your wedding day?" 

"My wedding day was fun!  This day has been a grind."

We drained our margaritas and drove back to Dallas in a hail storm, but my bride was asleep from the margarita and a long day. 

A more than a long day's worth of problems were now in our rear view mirror.  This time I mean it. 

I tucked her into bed and suggested we kick off a celebration tomorrow once this day is behind us.

The Music Man

Grant, as a High School Senior, has been growing into and out of several identities over his high school career.  He gave up football after his freshman year and tried out for, and made the JV Tennis team in his junior year (but lost out on a spot as varsity player in his senior year).  He began with a schedule heavy into IB classes (International Baccalaureate), but found the cost/benefit ratio to not be as advertised by the counselors, so moved into an AP (Advanced Placement) dominated set of courses.  He left Spanish III mid-year for a shot at working with the Journalism teacher (with his parents approval), despite the dire warnings from the counselors that told him that a high school diploma without four years of Spanish was a guaranteed path to slackerdom and ultimately living a destitute existence in a trailer set up on concrete blocks in a flood plain. Through his differing academics tacks, the one thing his mother strongly encouraged [insisted] was that he stick with orchestra.  He has not passionately embraced the cello, nor put in the practise time to be Honors Orchestra first chair, though I am told by people that know such things that he has a "good ear" and superior technique.  But for Grant, he has made many of his closest friends from within the Mighty Owl Orchestra (MOO) - and for Grant, that is a good enough reason for sticking with the cello.  [His mother always suspected he would find a good group to hang with in the orchestra room]

I suspect one other motivating reason for his 4-year affiliation with the philharmonic set is the annual Spring Orchestra Festivals.  Mr Peacock, the ever-patient and consummate professional Orchestra teacher allows his young musicians to vote on which High School Music Festival to attend each Spring.  Last year, Garland attended a festival held near the snow covered ski slopes of Colorado.  This year, the selection was made to return to Panama City, Florida.  The stipulation from his parents was that this time he had to pay his own way.  After a bit of a shock to consider laying out such a sum, Grant dug deep into his savings and registered as part of the 40-plus students to travel to turquoise water and white sands of the Gulf Coast.

Wednesday evening, April 13, the bus' belly was packed with cases of violins, violas, harps and cellos, and once the bases were loaded, the Mighty Owl Orchestra struck out on the road fun and adventure.  The bus left around 8 PM with the students dressed in comfy sleeping apparel as they traveled through the night to from Dallas to Panama City, on Florida's panhandle.  The competition is Friday, and that leaves several days and nights for the other attractions included in the itinerary, such as visits to Shipwreck Island Water Park and shows at the Gulf World Marine Park, all while staying in a cheap motel on the beach with a bunch of your wild friends.  Grant, as a senior and veteran of these trips, plans on staying at the scheduled parks as little as possible and will break back to the hotel with his buddies for good ol' free time on the beach. 

Oh, Panama City!
It starts with P and rhymes with T,
And T stands for 'Trouble'
Right here in Panama City! - Not to worry,

The orchestra group is mature and well-behaved (mostly) and Mr. Peacock, also a seasoned veteran of these trips is cool.  The bus is loaded for the return trip on Sat, afternoon and the MOO pulls back into HS parking lot mid-afternoon on Sunday.



Grant arrives to load cello and tux onto the bus for
MOO Spring Festival in Panama City, Florida

 This is the time of year when student lives accelerate and choices have to be made.  The one complication to Grant's travel with the orchestra was that he had a schedule conflict.  Earlier he had place second in the District in a UIL Journalism competition (see: Feature Story; March, 2011) and Regional UIL competition was scheduled for the Saturday. April 16 at Baylor University in Waco, Texas, 100 miles south of Dallas.  Initially, Grant thought that his high placement in the UIL Journalism competition was going to give him a pass to miss a day of school while trying to advance to the State level.  But once he had all the facts, it was give up a Saturday and drive to Waco with Mr. Forrester (Journalism teacher) for a writing event, OR get out of school for 2 days, travel with many of his good buddies, mess around on the beach and have good times across half of Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama and Florida while dodging tornadoes.   He had his new frisbee and bathing suit packed in a flash without a second thought.

With Grant traveling for 4 days, we, the parents, get to practise empty nest syndrom.  I am thinking this 4 day excursions could be fun for Everyone.

Homefolks Hopeful, Homeful & Homeless

This is the season when all God's Children and all God's Creatures need a home.

Just this morning I saw a Robin with a beak so full of gauze and grass, so focused on gathering nest-building material that she barely hopped away from my wheels as I drove past her on my way out of the neighborhood.  The ants are also busy with fresh mounds of fine, black dirt as they too build and expand their subterranean homes.

Inga, away at the University of Oregon, has been diligently searching, along with 2 other gals for a place to live for their Junior year at the University of Oregon.  Roommate Jasmine has been adding to her elaborate spreadsheet since January, evaluating potential house rentals and apartments.  There are columns for rent price, and a rating scale for space feng shui, kitchen size, laundry availability, building manager's temperament, acceptance of pets (just in case a cute lemur needs a place), vicinity to campus and all other variables the ladies are considering.  In the give-and-take of putting together the ideal matrix among the three girls, Inga lobbied for a close-to-campus priority (along with low rent), while the other two were a bit more swayed by "charm" or curb-appeal as the realtors call it.  Once all the variables were weighted and the columns summed, the they did mange to reach a consensus.

Inga called and said she needed the money to make a deposit by Monday, April 11.  I transferred the funds to her meager account and I received a text message at work Monday afternoon; "I'm housed!" (I am glad that she put that "u" in her message).  A big relief to get that chore put to bed so she can concentrate on all the other moving parts of campus life.

Her new place is 300 yards from her current apartment, so it is right across from campus.  As described, it is more like a small 3 BR house, rather than an apartment.  It is built into a slope, so the complex has two levels, they have the upper level.  By finding a good place for next year early on, they have the complication of still having a lease that goes through September at the old place while their new lease begins in June.  Inga is hopeful that by working with management at the old place that she can sublease to folks who will be in Eugene for an extended environmental conference over the summer.

Grant too needs housing for his upcoming freshman year at the University of Missouri, Columbia.  We were recently updated and informed on the Mizzou housing process a couple weeks ago when we attended a Mizzou information event [see: Connecting Dots & Connecting Stripes; March 2011]. Grant will begin in the dorms, and the dorm he will be assigned depends upon which Freshman Interest Group (FIG) he selects.  Mizzou offers a large variety of FIGs which link incoming freshmen to others of similar interests, and places them in the same dorm and also enrolls them into several of the same classes during their first year; all in an effort to build identity and support during one's first year away at school.

During our introduction the other night, we were told that when it comes to housing, it is based upon your FIG selection, and when it comes to FIG selection, it is first-come-first-serve, and that FIG selection begins with online registration on April 11 at 4 PM (CST).  We were told to be prepared with your top 6 FIGS as thousands will be applying for the 15-20 openings in each FIG, and you will not likely get your 1st choice.  After attending to some other Mizzou business online Saturday evening, I noticed the University web page warned that the server would be down for maintenance on Sunday.  I thought to myself, is it really a smart idea to take down the system 1 day before thousands will rush online to select their FIG?  But hey, what do I know?  They have Ph. D.'s in computer science and information technology out the wazoo at a large university.

I guess they are not concerned.

I texted Grant from work at 3; "R U Ready to sign up for ur FIG at 4?"
He was.
I came home about 6:30, and saw him at the computer; do you have a place to live at Mizzou? I asked.
No, he grunted.  "The system won't let me in."
He was homeless. 
I figured he was going to be sleeping in a big white tent on the quad, port-a-potties on the right for men, on the left for women.
He finally made it to the second screen around 6:40, but the system locked up on him again.  He decided to log out and try from the beginning again.  Still homeless.
After some time, he got a message on the screen: "University of Missouri Website is experiencing technical problems - Please try again in 2 Hours".
We broke for dinner.  After dinner he was able to log in and he was able to get his first choice FIG.
A Home at last. Thank God almighty! Home at last!

Inga has two homes currently.
Grant has finally secured a home in the dorms for the Fall.
Our home will soon be a place for the kids to visit the old homefolks.