I hope Stevie Nicks likes Latin America...

Despite my general devotion toward new wave bands like New Order, The Cure, Depeche Mode and the Pet Shop Boys, I confess I also have an odd fondness for Fleetwood Mac. (Also Supertramp. Might as well confess that, too.) So it is with some bemusement that I thought of their song upon seeing the random "news" story that I actually participated in.

If I live to see the seven wonders,
I'll take a path to the rainbow's end.
I'll never live to match the beauty again.

Yep, it turns out that Peru (along with Brazil and Mexico) is now host to one of the New Seven Wonders of the World. (Let's not debate the fact that Macchu Picchu ain't all that "new," all right?) Admittedly, I actually voted in this, buoyed by some hype on NPR about the surge in voting for the Christ Redeemer. What amuses me is that five of the ones I voted for were actually chosen (although, admittedly, I went for the Acropolis and Angkor Wat over the Christ Redeemer and Chichén Itzá). I really have no vested interest in this, but I still find it amusing.

Reality bites

My son loves everything with wheels. Trucks, cars, backhoes, vans, station wagons, bicycles, cement mixers -- and tractors. Yes, there was an entire book from the library on tractors. There are several in the house. Tractors are amazing things.

Here is a picture of Xan on Cape Cod in a little trailer behind Grumpy on the tractor.

You should really click to get the blow up the picture to see the poor kid's face.

Here's the funny thing: apparently, he's taking a shiner to Grumpy's Harley. Wait until that thing gets turned on.

I supposes

You may notice how blurry this photograph is. I tried my damnedest to get a screen shot from this sequence that was relatively clear -- and in all of them something is blurred. That's how exuberantly kinetic this sequence is.

While watching this yesterday morning (before the 4th of July parade, and before -- sniff! -- the mom and the boy went up to Cape Cod, leaving me down here to wallow and work), I remembered that we brought up this sequence at dinner with El Pájaro, La Torre Alta Metachuck, and Konroad (sorry, no nickname for you, hee) the night before. Angela pointed out that, according to Xan, this -- and only this -- means "movie" so far; El Pájaro asked if I could recite the words to "Moses Supposes." (I did so, although later I realized I had done so "erroneously.") She casually mentioned Xan's attempts at dancing, then said, "Just wait until they can do it together."

Yesterday, while watching it, I realized that this was actually a great idea.

Except, given his propensity towards Cosmo -- and come on, who doesn't want to be Cosmo? My students love Cosmo! The man can walk up walls! Seriously!! -- I realized that if we were to do this scenario, I would have to be Gene Kelly.

Not that Donald O'Connor is any easier, let me tell you, but Kelly has some shoes to fill.

So I did start to google "adult tap classes" (which brought up precious little, save for some Joy of Motion stuff -- can anyone advise on adult tap? please??). Hey, it would also be exercise. Plus, my walking step could get even more percussive. This may take a while, but stay tuned.)

(Oh yeah, if anyone wants to know how I'm doing all alone with the cat, I will point out that I couldn't fall asleep last night, so I straightened up most of the house before finally collapsing around 3. And, sans child around, still woke up at 7. Damn.)

Gloating/Not gloating

My son is two-and-a-quarter years old and sat getting his haircut the other day without shedding a single tear. Primarily distracted by the hair-dryer across the room, he sat still until the whole event was through, only then calling for Mama. What a little gentleman!...

...who, three days earlier, woke us up by bringing a book for us to read -- a book that was goopy to the touch. At which point we realized that that container of Vaseline that we thought was too high for him to reach was, in fact, not high enough at all. After six baths over two days, most of the Vaseline was finally out of his hair.

The other day, our son defied what all the books say about kids his age, proudly declaring, "I try olives!" before gobbling down (several!) pitted, marinated kalamatas with relish. This gives him about a 25-year jump on his dad in the olive-eating category (also the raw-tomato-eating category). Our boy is adventurous in food...

...which is good given that his dad had a hard time eating from the major head-butt he got from his son, so hard that he got a major fat lip that brought about tears. The boy then gave himself a bloody nose (and currently only has one elbow without a scratch on it) and nearly bestowed a black eye on his mother from a unintentional fist. Don't send us donations; just drop off the Ace bandages. (Upon telling this story, we learned of a colleague whose now 17-year-old jumped off a coffee table onto his father's resting body on a sofa, cracking three of his ribs. Given that Xan has done this already, we may have something to look forward to.)

Taking pictures of the back of your head

When I talk about experiences at the Telluride Film Festival, I often mention the wonderful surprise that was Yi Yi, a thrilling three-hour film set in contemporary Taiwan. You have to understand that another Taiwanese film that had something to do with dragons or tigers was also in the festival; we all knew that that martial arts adventure was going to hit it big. Yi Yi was the opposite: quiet, introspective, thoughtful, building up an impressive story around a family trying hard to connect. As it happened, it opened in our little Masons theater as our first screening; while it was not that well-attended at first, everyone who saw it was floored by it. The film quickly became the film to see, the film that everyone (including me, especially me) would tell other people about while waiting in line. As it happened, Yi Yi also closed our theater, a screening where we sold out and turned away nearly 100 angry people who desperately wanted to see this really magical film.

Which is why I'm stunned now, up late grading papers but about to head for bed, as I read that director-writer Edward Yang has just died, leaving Yi Yi as his final word. The movie features Yang-Yang, the young boy seen above, who takes pictures of the back of people's heads because he wants to take note of the things that people don't, or can't, pay attention to. I am saddened that Yang won't be able to show us such fascinating elements anymore.

George Wu has a wonderful review of the film in Senses of Cinema.

Summer reading buddies

Actually, for these two, I'm not sure "summer" is a necessary factor. Xan has been clamoring to see pictures of him and his friend Boone all morning. I decided to let everyone else in on the idea.

"O Shenandoah, I long to see you..."

This weekend, we took Xan camping to the Shenandoahs. We realized it's the first time we've gone camping since Angela was pregnant; we also realized it's the first long amount of time we've had with each other for a loooooong time, given the major last push I've done to get the slavedriver evil thang book out on time. (Indeed, for those keeping track, all edits were made and the whole thing was sent out on Thursday for the next step in the process.)

We had a ton of fun and Xan had a fabulous time in the tent (particularly on the second evening, when we encouraged him to go to sleep by giving him a small flashlight to hold). Big Meadows campground turned out to be (a) farther from the actual meadows than we anticipated but (b) not as over-run as we thought it might be, particularly since we lucked out with a super-cool tentground way on the periphery. Xan made friends with a 4-year-old named Eli who had superhuman strength ("I have the strength of Batman and Superman and Spiderman! All together! I can pick Xan up, you watch!" This, in response to Xan scampering up the hill.) and we had personal encounters with raccoons, deer and Philadelphians. And we didn't even look at either a cell phone or a clock the entire time. Fabulous. Brilliant.

In the meantime, some scenes from the fam communing with nature:Look! A big meadow!

The kid and his mother, up a tree

On the Rose River trail, Xan shares the secret that there is no movie theater nearby.

A real nature boy

Yes, we really did hike the trail!

There is something else we learned. During our big hike, we had the following conversation:
"Hey, Xan, did you see the bear?" (There really was a bear and her cub, which we saw at a distance.)
"A bear. And deer."
"Yes, we saw a deer as well."
"And a tiger."
Blink. "A tiger?"
"Yes, a tiger. A red tiger."
"A red tiger? Where do you see that?"
"The red tiger gives me candy."

At this point, we looked at one another, baffled. Any ideas as to what this refers to would be greatly appreciated.

And this is why I can celebrate today!

And a happy Father's Day to all the other dads out there!

The best exhibit at the National Zoo

Seriously. Who needs animals where there is a backhoe? A backhoe!!!

I mean, really. Naturally, we were entranced by this for several minutes.

Please place that "Absent Minded Professor" sign here. Thank you.

"Hey."

"Hey there."

"Um, so did you drive in this morning?"

"No." Duh. Of course, I didn't.

"Where is the car then?"

"It's not in the driveway?" Oh crap, someone stole our car?

"Um, did you remember to drive home last night?"

"No, I me-" Wait. Yesterday? When I was late to class and drove in and dropped Xan off and you and he went home on the metro, and I stayed late so I wouldn't have to walk in the rain, which means the car is still here on campus which means that it's PROBABLY GOING TO BE TICKETED RIGHT NOW??!!!!! "Ohmigod. I gotta go."

"You are unbelieveable."