Chuttumbee #1 Turns 11

Eleven blustery years ago, Paul Sebastian Allessandro Pachikara came barreling into this grand world, bristling with ideas, observations, a hearty laugh and a big heart. I am so very proud of how he is growing up, but a bit wistful at the speed of time.

• He is pure muscle and sinew still - when he raises his arms up, his entire back comes alive with ripples.  He can run 20 mins after school, walk 1/2 mile home and then go for a solid hour of soccer practice on a high school sized field with the only result being a flushed face.
• He is a prolific creator - Minecraft is his current tool of choice.  Concoctions range from a Greek styled hotel, to a dream house perched on a mountain top surrounded by a moat filled with lava, and a train system that zips from this perch, to his hotel, to another villa across the bay. Architecture and design swirl in his head. Dubai airport and the gadgets in the Emirates Airlines 777 were as head spinning as the rest of the trip to India this past December. 
• “Dad, I want to be a polymath, like Da Vinci.”  Paulito is fluent in Lego Mindstorms (just built his first "Sumo-bot") and dabbles in Kodu and Khan Academy coding exercises, and has expanded this year from Piano to also learn Clarinet.
• He’s self-aware.  He truly understands temptation and how it can be easier to avoid it than challenge it, and has gracefully grokked the growing demands of school, adjusting accordingly.
• He’s active yet detached.  He ran for treasurer ("something told me in my heart to do more, dad") including making a humorous poster & speech video, but was not too set back when he lost.  "Dad, Rotum won, she's super nice and everyone knows her.  Oh well."
• He’s filling in the gaps.  He has methodically addressed each part of schooling that was a gap.  God bless JK Rowling and Rick Riordan’s for making reading fun.
• He is still a vivid, engaged compadre. Paul is still a very active brother to Sidd, knows and easily chats with extended family, and keeps a loyal friendship with a couple of other kids, particularly his long-time buddy, Will.

I don't know where the future will go as 6th Grade means no more daily meandering walks home with Sidd (Paul needs to now take the bus), more workload, more juggling. But I am deeply blessed by the chap he is turning into. Life is full of blessings and surprises, and Paul and Sidd are the most humbling yet.

Paul @ 11, © 2013, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

In the Land of Magic and Logic

In the toddler era, magic exists and is real, plain and simple. For example, the anticipation of a visit by the Tooth Fairy for a newly fallen tooth. First she is a mystical being, magically swapping a precious tooth for a well earned buck. A "few teeth later", she is someone from whom a service is expected. Then it transitions to a re-assuring tradition but not one that meets increasing expectations.

And then, logic and knowledge crowd their way into one's conscience. Concepts like "permanent teeth," and how they naturally push out “baby teeth.” Magic of a medical kind, yes, but, well, it extracts a dear expense: the tooth fairy's sparkle fades a bit. As interesting to me is how one does not immediately realize when an "old era" is fading. There's usually a new tradition or habit distracting us away.

Envelope 1: An Early Request, © 2011, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

Envelope 2: Clearer and Bolder, © 2012, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

Envelope 3: Pushing for Too Much, Perhaps? © 2012, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

Happy Holidays 2012 !

Another year has passed so quickly – even Paul now comments about time’s quick pace, “I can’t believe summer is already gone, dad!”

 All Dressed Up, © 2012, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

Sidd, Paul, Molly and I send our best wishes for a very Merry Christmas during this holiday season.  As said in past years, we pray this note finds you safe, sound, healthy and happy. We have been blessed many times over with treasures, time and talents and the year has seen us continue to grow and change.

• Paul is 10 ½, Sidd is 9. Both are still sinewy, almost entirely muscle and bone (the consummate opposite of myself), but now taller, far stronger, and more physical in their sports and rough housing at home. Computers are an expanding presence in their lives, from gaming (like Minecraft), to game design (they took a 2 week computer game design course last summer that they loved), to reading (Nook), to homework - - Paul now uses Word and Excel for his science homework, Sidd watches Khan Academy.
• Molly completed a tour of duty as a Toastmasters “Area Governor,” - - mentoring a collection of Toastmasters clubs and earning the western Washington state “best of” award. What happens in 2013 – we shall see.
• I continue at Microsoft as the company goes thru a pivotal time with the world shifting away from PCs to mobile phones and tablets. As they say, what does not kill you will make you stronger, no?  Two pursuits that consume me are a) guiding our boys’ amazing journey and b) taking photos, and writing about a photo’s related story. I cannot say I put enough time into deepening my skills in the latter – a gap I plan to address in 2013.

There’s Nothing Like Grass, Sunshine, & Whispy Clouds

How history repeats itself!  This time, in Yakima, WA where we joined friends to pick apples and taste wine.

The late afternoon found us parked on a lawn and the youngsters magically took up the very tradition I suddenly recalled vividly from grade school.

That is: meandering conversations while staring up at clouds trundling lazily across the sky, the cool sensation of grass underneath, the dull warmth of the sun above.

What made this possible?  Manitoba-style summers - - 75 degrees Fahrenheit, low humidity, big sky, pure sunshine.  Simply change the location, to eastern Washington.

Enjoying the Sunshine 
© 2012, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

Joel Orbits the Conversation in the Middle 
© 2012, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

The Long Tradition of Siblings Helping Siblings

Brothers helping brothers.  Likewise, sisters helping sisters, and siblings in general helping each other.  It happens across geographies, time and culture.

Here is my dad and his younger brother, Ellisuncle, getting ready for the wedding of my cousin Aruna.  And one hotel room over is my son Paul, with the same intense focus helping his younger brother, Sidd, with his zipper tie.  (Yes, a zipper tie.  Hard to know what sort of help is needed.)

Age-wise, ~60 years separates these two pairs.  Yet a blessed pattern repeats itself.

Dad Helps His Younger Brother Get Ready 
© 2012, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)


Paul Helps His Younger Brother Get Ready
© 2012, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

Partners in the Journey

Here’s an engaging set of gentlemen:  a grandfather and his two grandsons.

Dressed up for a snappy event and ready to make their way thru the evening’s crowd of party goers. 

The younger two have the optimism, energy and unfettered whimsy of youth.  The older one carries the wisdom, appreciation and peacefulness of years of great work helping thousands of patients, staying involved with immediate and extended family, and applying nuanced lessons from many journeys. 

(Perhaps due to my outsized interest in Mafia stories like The Godfather and The Sopranos, I personally saw a benign version of a Mafia Don and two Consiglieri.  I know, I know, it’s a stretch.)

Together they create a rare brew, a natural fit with each other.

 

Sidd Looking Pensive;  Paul in His Hand Picked Fedora
© 2012, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

 

Appa, and the Two Chuttumbees
© 2012, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

Chuttumbee #2 Turns 9

9. Yes, he is now 9.

And, yes, he still tracks his birthday’s like NORAD monitoring an ICBM coming from Siberia. Certainly, things are evolving perceptibly – I did notice he’s not as vocal about the birthday, the excitement is not as unbridled. But unchanged is the underlying anticipation, & birthday related questions that casually arise 10 weeks prior to the event. “I wonder what Susieauntie will get me…” “That would be so cool to have a party when we visit Pappa and Momma in Atlanta, and Amma and Appa in Murphysboro, AND then have one at home.” “I hope Grant comes to my birthday…”

Sidd @ 9, © 2012, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

So how else is Sidd changing? 

• In the past year, some of the magic of his world, and the related initial cast of mystical characters, are under scrutiny.  “Okay Dad, tell me, is Santa really real?”  “The tooth fairy didn’t take my tooth last night.  Maybe she only goes to see really little kids.”
• Computer Games are making a firm presence in his (and his older brother’s) life. Our parental defense is vigorous and so far keeping things in moderation. But computer games have the same remarkable, relentless urge of a cigarette, or shot of whiskey, or a slot machine. I am hoping Kodu and Digipen will channel this energy.
• His social side is increasingly pronounced. He continues to prefer hanging out with people more than visiting a museum or monument.  Less expected: about 6 months ago, he declared that he would take care of getting everyone their juice, water, etc. Then came mixing mango juice with cranberry juice. Seeing the positive reception, he started tinkering with portions and names. “Would you like one of my Red Tornadoes”? That is 4 parts mango, 1 part cranberry.  Keeping the party going, all good people in one happy room, that is his mission.

If there is one relentless anchor (aside from his brother, parents and extended family) it is Legos.  The mythology of Bionicles, the trance-like immersion when using the actual bricks, the ephemeral ideas so vividly created so rapidly by each new contraption.  On many mornings, I seem him up early, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought on how to create a new gizmo.  It is humbling how something so seemingly simple can keep his interest.  (Long overdue is the well earned induction of Legos’ creators into the Nobel Prize’s hall of fame.)

The other constant: his deep engagement with his brother, Paul.  They wrestle together, increasingly chat about school, go round and round with fart jokes until they melt onto the floor from the exhaustion of laughing, and generally show support for each other.  This may change as time goes on, but so far, its been a deep collaboration.

Lego Party = Magically Focused 10 Year Olds

To celebrate Paul’s 10th birthday, we had a “Lego expert” come over and throw a Lego party.  6,000 bricks.  90 minutes of continuous instruction.  Drills on the names of specific pieces.  These boys were in the presence of one of their modern day shaman working the true magic of Lego as they had never seen before.

Outcome:  mesmerized, silent attention.  No fart jokes.  No crazed rampaging, wrestling, throwing, jumping.  Not even a desire for Nintendo, Playstation, etc.  Just hard core questions about why this piece and not that.  Rapid iterating and reworking of the assignment.  The instructor was nothing short of a mystic, casting a spell that Rasputin would have envied.

To add to the sense of mystery:  at the end of the session, all the boys frantically helped the instructor put away the thousands of bricks into their exact locations in the myriad of boxes.  Yes, the same boys who struggle to notice the disarray they create all around themselve on any other day.  Not sure where we had “gone to,” but damn it was amazing.

Once the session ended, it was time for burgers, fries and cake.  The familiar characteristics of time and space returned.  Will we do it again?  Shoot I sure hope so.

Getting Drilled, © 2012, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

    
Boxes and Boxes of Fabulous Bricks, © 2012, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

A Triumphant Day: Legos, Burgers, Cake, © 2012, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

Chuttumbee #1 Turns 10

I am again humbled at the speed of time.  Here we are at Paul’s 10th birthday.  Just “yesterday” he was just a rolly, polly little tike hyperventilating as he considered the thrill of trying to walk 3 feet. 

So much has changed. 

He is far more athletic than say at age 6.  Physically, he is still sinewy as last year; and mentally, he is an abstract thinking lad. More importantly, he is pretty much fearless.  He will try new things, stand up to an opponent in soccer or basketball games, get in front of his class to share his POV, and do so with a smile.  I have hundreds of game photos of him, in the throws of a soccer game, big Cheshire cat smile on his mug.  Even his coaches will raise this – “the one thing about Paul, he is always enjoying his time on the field.”  We should all hope for this outcome when we are immersed in combat, no?  Actually, it must be a bit unnerving to engage him. 

And his somewhat introverted ways shield him (so far) from worrying too much what others think.  I would have never realized introverts carry this advantage without seeing him in action.  He undertakes a course of action because, well, he wants to; other opinions don’t have much gravity.  (How do we preserve this way of thinking?)

Computers and him have some manner of intersection.  Two weeks ago my mobile phone rang.  This is Abe, I said.  “Dad, it’s me.  DId you know you can make shapes in Microsoft Word?  Like triangles and boxes?  It is amazing!”  If that rocked his world, you should have seen his reaction to “Track Changes” in Word.  “Wow!  That is amazing!  I have to use this!”  Really?  What, in your homework?  Are you pulling my leg or does this really wind you up?

Paul’s dramatic manner of viewing the world is articulated elsewhere also.  “Dad, it rained so hard today, it felt like the whole world was weeping!”  Today I say more prayers of thanks for such a treasure wafting its way into my life. 

Paul @ 10, © 2012, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

Counting on Dad

I recall Father's Day back in 2008 when Sidd’s classroom had an event for fathers to join.  I came 5 minutes late.  I was ambling down the hallway in the school and saw his face peaking around the edge of the doorway, hoping to see me.  Immediately, he came trotting out, whispered "come on Dad" in his soft spoken voice, grabbed my hand and led me into the room. 

I realized (once again) how much these small moments count and reinforce our relationships, how I had in truth trivialized it in my head, and how missing such an occasion is a much bigger deal than I had realized.

I had put much less weight into my attendance than he had.  On the way back to work, I said a small prayer of thanks that I had NOT missed this event for some pedestrian commitment at the office - I do that far too often.  Again, good dumb luck had prevailed over ignorance.  Make no mistake, I have certainly had precious moments occur without my attendance.  But I have come to realize the experiences we create with our family and friends are among our most sublime treasures.

Father’s Day, 2008 with Dad, © 2008, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

False Positives

Over time I have come to a sobering realization: all around are relationships at a standstill.  They are not divorcing anytime soon, but they are living in an environment lacking some combination of companionship, intimacy and whimsy. It is akin to an unemployed person who no longer looks for work.

It is best described by a very close friend who, still in shock, shared the comment of one of long time drinking buddies, “Yeah, me and the wife are going to stay together until our youngest one gets in to college. Then we’re done. Definitely we’re getting a divorce.”

For most of my life, I have surmised (incorrectly) from the upbeat mood of a social event that the couples present are engaged and catalyzed by each other.  The shine of the event is literally spillover from the fruits of productive relationships.

But in truth, most if not virtually all these events do not compel spouses to socialize together the way a three legged race requires tightly coordinated, tandem motion to win the race. The social occasions allow interactions as individuals.

This distracts away from the truth of the matter.  One may incorrectly conclude (as I have) that the laughing, ruminating, and listening one sees in the individuals means the twosomes are therefore close, affectionate, and supportive away from this scene. All the trappings of healthy relationships.

What we don't see is the chemistry when the couples are back in their cars, heading home, nor how they engage once under their own roof. Many years ago, a Married Encounter weekend termed this as "married singles." I ponder that observation a lot.

Presence and Absence

My oh my, I am shocked how far away a loved one goes when they die.  I personally find it so hard to get used to the total and complete absence of their physical presence – there is just not a trace of them to be found. I keep expecting them to come thru a doorway, to call, to bump into them at a get together of the usual personalities, to see them at a table sitting. 

Yet, they keep showing up, unannounced, into my thoughts.  It is maddening how I cannot predict the next time a rumination will come into my head that is related to them. Places. Food. Stories. People. They hit me with the speed and sting of a jab by Mohammed Ali. Before I can see it, it has struck and I am lucky if it only stings; many times it feels like a freight train with 117 cars rumbling thru me.  Please Lord, just let me know it is coming, will you? I don’t like it when these remembrances come unannounced and uninvited in the middle of my drive home, a call, or a meeting at work.

Of some solace after a long search was the following prayer, which has helped me greatly:

Prayer for the Dead

God of life,
Those whom we love die,
but our relationship to them continues.
Lead me to be thankful for all that they have shown me
about loving deeply, living wisely, and knowing You.
 
Help me to notice those
moments of my life
when I act, think, or believe
because of something
that they have brought
to birth in me.
 
Remind me to pray for them
and to ask for their assistance
in my need.
 
Even though I miss them deeply,
allow me to understand we still belong together
and will one day embrace again in your kingdom. 
 
Amen

Happy Holidays 2011 !

Another Christmas has blustered upon us, and Sidd, Paul, Molly and I send you a heartfelt Happy Holidays!

As said in past years, we pray this note finds you safe, sound, healthy and happy. We have been blessed many times over with treasures, time and talents and the year has seen us continue to grow and change. (Bored already? Well here’s the whimsical eCard from last year, updated with current photos - - it may take a moment to load.)

The Best Fall Colors in Years, © 2011, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

Meeting Mother Teresa

My mom’s older sister, Monikochamma was in Bangalore several years ago and intent on visiting the Missionaries of Charity location in the city and making a donation.  The autoricksha driver was struggling to find the location and after getting lost a couple of times, finally relented, “It is somewhere close, madam, but you will need to walk now.”

Undaunted, she proceeded on foot, occasionally asking for directions from people in the neighborhood.  This can be exhausting as many will confidently provide directions even if wildly incorrect.  Finally a lady sweeping the front walk waved Monikochamma forward, “You’re close, you just need to go around this corner and in the gate.”

At last she had arrived.  She was greeted by a nun, who gave a tour of the facility and staff.  Monikochamma made a donation and then asked, “Does Mother Teresa ever come to Bangalore?  I know she may be in one of the locations but I would love to meet her if that was at possible.”

“She is not in the building just now as she is sweeping the front of the mission.” 

Monikochamma stood in awe.  Here was an example of the saying “Be the change you want to see in the world.”  The Nobel Laureate was simply deep in her day’s work at the mission.

Mother Teresa, Wikimedia-Commons User Túrelio

Chuttumbee #2 Turns 8

Sidd has now completed the 8th year of the journey he is on and the year was certainly an illuminating one.  With each year, I can see clear lines emerging that crystalize his social, physical and intellectual persona.  The diamond is steadily emerging from the rough.  An observation by one human of another, which in and of itself, is a priceless part of life.

In a nutshell, he’s competitive, a numbers guy (particularly regarding money), selectively lazy, likes little kids, and gregarious, social spirit with a penchant for cracking jokes.

Shaggy Headed Boy, © 2011, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

Competition: He has discovered a fierce sense of competition and beating arbitrary goals he creates (including in soccer). I have noticed that he will observe the expected arrival time on our car’s GPS, and then quietly urge me on, “C’mon dad, just chip it down, chip it down. It says 2:34. Let’s get it down to 2:33.” He remembers that how well he did previously and wonders how the future will be, “I made 2 goals last week, I hope I can do that tomorrow.”

Be Smart With Numbers & Money: For Sidd, numbers is just another term for money, and he likes both, a lot. At his 7th birthday party, my parents gave him 50 one dollar bills and he counted them daily for a month. He and Paul decided to combine their allowances as it will be larger, (which is obviously better according to them) and opening a bank account was quite the excursion. If I had known of and given the marshmallow test back when he was three I think he would have passed. Cindy gave him a Super Lotto ticket for his 8th and the reaction was illuminating. BEFORE: he had myriad questions about success: “If you win the $3 million dollars can you play AGAIN? Really? Wow.” “If I win, I will put it all in the bank account and make more – maybe I will be the first boy to make a billion dollars.” AFTER: Upon finding out that he had not won, not had even one number match, his view of lotteries soured. “So they keep Cindy Auntie’s dollar? That does not sound like a very good idea.” Pondering more and hearing about how you can make more modest gains with stocks he came back to say, “I think I want to learn how to put money into Kinect, that is a pretty good thing and I think a lot of people should like it. Can you show my how to buy stock in that company?”

Lazy, at Times: When there is a task in the house to do, I find that Sidd will linger just long enough to see if Paul will up and do it. If asked, he sounds innocent. “I think Paul is taking care of it.” Bad habit to nip sooner rather than later.

Little Friends: The little man loves little babies and kids. When at a gathering, if will oscillate between rough housing with boys his age, and goofing around with a 2 year that is peering around from behind his or her mom’s dress.

Gregarious?  Yup: The social element comes out loud with each passing day. When asked who he played with at school, the response shows it is a numbers game. “I play with George and his friends during the morning recess, and with Tommy and his friends in the afternoon recess.” We were visiting family in San Francisco and the first night my cousin Rani had a wonderful soiree at her place: perhaps 15 people, all my cousins spouses, came over. Sidd had a ball with Rani’s children and all these people. The next day, the 1st question was, “which party are we going to tonight dad?” When the answer was none, he was undeterred, going to Regi Auntie and asking, “Regi Auntie can we have a party tonight?” He kept at this campaign and the next morning, she finally wrote down a set of phone numbers and handed him a phone.  He took his best shot at inviting folks over. “Hi Shanthi Auntie, this is Sidd. So we are having a party tonight and can you come at 7? It is okay if you have to come at 8:30 or 8 and I think it will be a lot of fun.” Regi Auntie graciously and patiently had him make panacotta with her and other items for the evening.  The  takeaway was triumphant, “I can’t believe this was my very first party. Regi Auntie made the party so good and I got to be host. It sure was fun.”

There Are No Illegitimate Children

My sister Cindy was chatting with my dad about the singer Nora Jones and explaining her lineage.  She mentioned that Nora is the illegitimate child of famed musician Ravi Shankar, and dad became very agitated. 

He clarified that in his view, this is in reality a misplaced term. 

“Cindy, there is no such thing as an illegitimate child.  There are only illegitimate parents.”  Touché.

The Unnerving Speed of Life

I am simply stupefied at the sheer velocity of our existence. Yesterday, I was 6. Today I am 46. Tomorrow I will be 73. Just like that.

I watch in awe as a freight train thunders by me, yet in reality I am on that train, looking out the window as the countryside of my life, experiences, and relationships zips by.

It’s akin to the whisper-quiet experience riding on the Shinkansen or TGV  – fast, noiseless, and less experiential than you want, unless you make an effort on your own part and “open the windows” in some manner.  Otherwise, I cannot hear the movement in my ears, nor feel its passage in my toes, the seat of my pants or in the small of my back. Months, literally years go by in mute. 

But I can “see” the changes if I make the effort to really look and increasingly be aware of the inexorable progress underway. Pudgy babies, turning to lanky youngsters, then questioning teenagers and finally delivered as pondering adults weighing the options in front of them and those left behind.

The 2009 trip to India made this painfully obvious, again.  Why?  Because it had been 5 years since the last visit and 13 since the first one with Molly. Cousins who were toddlers oblivious to the wealth of minutes around them were now in college pondering what lay beyond their graduation.

For some reason Stevie Nick’s song Landslide keeps looping between my ears, particularly where it goes…

I took my love, I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around
and I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
'Till the landslide brought me down
Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love
Can the child within my heart rise above
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life~~~

The Countryside Flies By
- - Abe Pachikara, © 2009, (Click for larger images)

Chuttumbee #1 Turns 9

It is nearly a decade since the “project” we now call Paul was started. :) And now I am belatedly writing about how he has powered, even thundered, his way thru his 9th year in his own quiet way. (Unrelated is the fact that 9 years has passed – how fleeting time is ! )

Gone is the cute, rather round, pudgy-pie he was as a toddler, replaced by a completely new geometry: he’s now svelte, with muscles on muscles.

What remains the same is the exploratory, abstract approach that lets ideas steep for days and weeks, and comes back with comments like “I think Infinity is the God of numbers and zero is the devil.” Such inspection has come to manifest itself in new ways such as increasingly complex Lego creations, writing his own 30 page sequel to a Lego Bionicles book, a steady immersion into the land of writing software (via the utterly amazing Microsoft Research game development tool called Kodu,) and improvising how you move to music. (He discovered that the latter translates to dancing like a madman at wedding receptions which is, well, a whole lot of fun. )

Ostensibly what is completely new is how he has kept his introverted side (he has exactly 2 friends in school, Will and Hrik, who are similarly not huge socialites) yet become increasingly comfortable with the larger cohort of students. His 3rd Grade teacher, Mrs. Christensen, informed us before the last day of school that the class had voted him as their “notable citizen” based on such criteria as “Kind, caring and considerate toward others; strong work ethic; positive and enthusiastic about learning.” My hope is that he can continue to beef up this ability as he moves into the choppy social waters of middle and high school, where I think it will be vital.

So here’s two images – they may at 1st appear to err on more entertaining than representative – one could be misconstrued to be a private school student; the other a budding surfer dude (from Nov 2010). But I see the way he peers deeply into things rather than a boy in a tie, and the way he keeps a bit of a distance via the big shades. All in all, he is blessed with talents and verve, and we are blessed that he has the luxury of time and many treasures to help chart out path ahead.

 

All Dressed Up, © 2011; Hitting the Surf, © 2010, Abe Pachikara (Click for larger images)

Amazing Journey: Please, Avoid the Kid’s Menu

I know folks who will take their children to a fine dining establishment and then turn to the page of pedestrian choices like Chicken Fingers when it comes to choosing what their kids eat.  Why?

How does one go about expanding the horizons of young beings when in action you undertake such confining behavior?

We have gone out of our way to establish a simple approach.  “Take one Tyrannosaurus-sized bite of the items we order.  Then really taste it, feel the texture, smell the aroma, look at the dish.  Feel the hard, soft, hot and cold parts with your fingers. Rip it to shreds in every way you want.  After that, if you still feel it is not something you like, bravo, let’s order something else.”

The result has been certainly encouraging.  Both the 7 and 8 year old have little hesitation trying things.  When the opening question is “What’s a Gyro?”  as opposed to “I don’t like Gyro’s” you know you have a fighting chance.

The world is such a big place.  Every facet has to be approached like it may be the last time you traverse it.  Injecting that mindset into the food we eat certainly seems like like a way to set the stage for larger explorations, no?

Taiwanese Pork Burger, rather than chicken nuggets

Earning Your Success Thru Smart Homework

Paul and Sidd had the good fortune of joining the venerable Scouting tradition known as the “Pinewood Derby” back in March:  transform a block of wood into a car body; decorate as you wish; nail on 4 wheels; race it down a glorified Hot Wheels track.

Before embarking with them on this little adventure, I came across “Physics and the Pinewood Derby” – a DVD of lessons by a physics professor who is a Souts dad.  It was a great $15 investment.  The boys walked away understanding some nuanced concepts in the context of speed such as: center of gravity, and design; rotational inertia, and using 3 vs. 4 wheels; how to check for good alignment and great tires.

This clearly narrowed our effort and over the course of a couple of weeks we created these svelte, 4.96 ounce (the limit is 5 oz) little dynamos.  Along with the build itself, the boys embraced the professor’s test mentality and made choices: notably Paul chose to have 1 front wheel slightly lifted off the track (lower rotational inertia), but Sidd felt this may make the car drift to one side and chose all 4 will be touching.

One small surprise was that neither cared to dress up the car with flames, numbers, etc.  “I just want a fast car, dad” is how Paul summed it up.  Sidd concurred.

The upshot:  out of about 40 cars, Paul’s racer, “Speedy Gonzales” came in 1st in all 8 heats, and 1st overall; Sidd’s “Typhoon” came in 1st in 5 heats, 2nd in 2 heats and 3rd in one very fast one, and 2nd overall.  A 1st and 3rd grader had beat out racers as old as the 6th grade.

When they announced the results, Paul was in particular surprised.  As the more introverted one, it was an unexpected feeling to be in the cheering and limelight among peers, and come to the front front to get his award.

I for one liked their observations and lessons: Both boys commented they were happy to see their brother win.  Both made predictions before the racing began about the various designs, looking thru the professor’s physics lens.  They also learned that how a heat “looks” matters less than the actual numbers in terms of race times.  And to a limited degree, they saw that when time permits it can be mighty useful to learn from the best before you start.

Turning up the heat at the district races… 

The boys went on to the district races in May and were very pumped up.  Now, throughout the build they had commented on winning and I shared that the the prep is what they control, but ultimately it does come down to luck, and the other cars. Most important is that walked away knowing they did as much as they could to make the fastest cars possible.  I also highlighted that the districts would see the best of the best compete and this would be far tougher.

Well, the district races were eye opening, and frankly, humbling.  Other cars won at the end of the day.  Sidd, who has a burning desire to “win”, was in particular was taken aback as he watched the race times and saw that Typhoon was not the top contender.  I wish I had photographed the shocked look on his face as Typhoon came in 2nd and 3rd in the heats.  Going to the districts was not as wildly fun as they had expected.  And being humbled is not the same as the candy of winning.  But I think they walked away understanding there are bigger arenas, and all the diligent prep is for contenders who may be elsewhere. 

 

Speedy Gonzales in the Garage; Typhoon(#30), Copyright 2011, Abe Pachikara  (Click for larger images)

 

Speedy Places 1st; Typhoon Places 1st, Copyright 2011, Abe Pachikara

 

Speedy Stays Out in Front; Typhoon in Action, Copyright 2011, Abe Pachikara

The Race Crew, Copyright 2011, Abe Pachikara

The Pack at the End of a Big Night, Copyright 2011, Abe Pachikara

Firing Things Up at the District, Copyright 2011, Abe Pachikara

“Infinity is the God of Numbers”

So my 7 year old Sidd and 8 year old Paul have been in hot pursuit of superlatives for several months.  One that has left Paul particularly spellbound was my answer to “what’s the biggest number?” - - The notion of infinity has resulted in numerous follow-up questions.

Finally he came up to me and said, “you know dad, I‘ve been thinking and since God is everything, and infinity is the biggest number, infinity is the God of numbers and zero is the devil.”

When asked where zero fit in, he indicated, “see infinity is trying to make you the biggest number, and zero is trying to make you into nothing.  So zero is the opposite of infinity so it’s the devil of numbers.”

I then explained negative numbers and asked where they fit in.  He came back in an hour, “Okay so BOTH positive AND negative infinity are the Gods of numbers, and zero is still the devil.”

I do hope he keeps this abstract way of looking at things, and that I can help remove whatever may obstruct such thinking.

Unwavering Focus

Some pursuits naturally draw us into focus, and are a natural source of exhiliration.  Consider Sidd and soccer.  It is a daily ritual at school during lunch, rain or shine.  And when he runs onto the field for a game, he literally prances around like a bucking bronco. 

Below is a shot sequence from the last game of his 2010 season.  The other team was an all-Latino set of 1st graders who were already well schooled on both the basics and more advanced nuances like double teaming and a liberal amount of pushing and shoving.  An early view into what is to come in later years.

The images show the way opportunity is identified, and in this case, relentlessly pursued in the face of opposition.  His eyes are locked on the goal even as the defense takes him down in the final frame.  The book "Bringing up Geeks" calls out the importance of focusing kids on everything BUT winning and losing: all those other elements are what one truly will gain from playing sports (like the camaraderie, the collective encouragement, the need for a LOT of preparation, the luck that is sprinkled in all endeavors, and the discipline and tenacity one builds).

Fast Break… Abe Pachikara, Copyright 2010 (click for larger image)

The Defense Closes In… Abe Pachikara, Copyright 2010 (click for larger image)

Squeeze Play… Abe Pachikara, Copyright 2010 (click for larger image)

Keeping Focus… Abe Pachikara, Copyright 2010 (click for larger image)

Watching the Ball As You Go Dooowwwnnnn… Abe Pachikara, Copyright 2010 (click for larger image)

The Unbounded World of George DeVoynes

My views of life were shattered in so many good ways in the summers of 1981 and 1983.  This image highlights just one – see the seated and smiling mug of the man standing next to camp counselors Sara Queener and Maria Baker.  George was the 1st of many campers to debunk many assumptions I discovered I had in life.

George and his Wheels - - Abe Pachikara, Copyright 1981 (click for larger image)

As context, the photo is taken at Touch of Nature (TON), a summer camp for physically and mentally challenged near Carbondale, IL.  It was the 1st of the many 2-week sessions; these campers had cerebral palsy, and were 18 to perhaps 60 years old (the upper age was never clear to me).

Now George had some kind of up-front agreement that he never needed to participate in the evening activities like arts, beach, boating, etc.  Rather, after dinner he would wheel himself back to the cabin (a very slow action, to be clear, but George ONLY moved on his own, never wanting help if at all possible; it was a steady but glacial backwards motion, arm hooked over the back grip, looking over his right shoulder).  He would spastically slap cologne on himself, often erupting into a smile over how good he smelled; perhaps change his shirt with the help of his cabin’s counselors, and then wheel ALL the way back past the cafeteria to his Caddy.

Getting in his Cadillac was its own journey: opening the back door; rocking back and forth until he was precariously up on his stiff legs; opening the back door; shaking the wheelchair until it collapsed; somehow dragging it into the back seat; slowly moving across to open the front door; falling in, moving around, getting situated. 

Finally, with big, enticing grin on his face, he would muster the energy to say to anyone nearby, “I…… am…… going…… out.”  The Caddy would back out, and with a burst of energy from the hand controlled accelerator, slide into the evening.

I once asked Butch, “where the hell is he going?”  to which I got a trademark thundering laugh, “Ah where does George go?  It is one of those Touch mysteries, Abe!  Some seedy tavern, local strip clubs, wherever it is a single, virile man would go in the evening.  And George is a pretty determined guy.”

It was the same man, seen thru 2 lenses:  while I saw the cerebral palsy with its inhibiting packaging that surrounded George, what Butch (and other TON veterans) also “saw” was just another single, virile male.  Getting a beer, chasing some skirts sounded pretty pedestrian at that point.

In my incredibly finite brain, large chunks of the world were beyond the boundaries of people “like George” but that was not the case.  And it was a tremendously welcome correction, if you ask me.

Happy Holidays 2010 !

Greetings from Redmond, WA, and a heartfelt Happy Holidays from Sidd, Paul, Molly and myself. We pray this note finds you safe, sound, healthy and happy.

I am always in awe of and humbled by the hundreds of layers of blessings surrounding us. It is life’s version of Teflon coating. As example, waking up in one’s own apartment, condo or home is an obvious and wonderful one. No longer is this an assumed outcome in the US; just between July - September, 930,000 homeowners lost their homes – that is around 4 million whose lives are derailed in this Holiday Season. The fact I am say my prayers from inside a house is the 1^st blessing of each day.

The Four Year Rule

When I was in my mid 20s I noticed I was suddenly interacting much more with my sister Cindy who is 6 years younger, but it was unclear as to why.  Did she suddenly become smarter or was there more to it?  After a lot of thought, I arrived at the “4 year rule” – that every 4 years our personas go thru a metamorphosis. As example, 3 and 7 year olds have nothing in common, nor 7 vs. 11, 11 vs. 15, even 15 vs. 19. The pace of personal development is so earth-shattering frankly. But then we get to our 20s and the pace eases up, a lot. Hence why I only discovered my sisters so late. 

The implication is that an age gap of greater than 4 years means you will not materially “share the ride” with your older or younger sibling.  Each child has what is essentially an “only child” and “oldest child” experience, working from zero insitutionalized knowledge regarding what to expect.

Now when I see young parents with say, a 2 year old, I wonder if they have in mind to have another baby, and if so, when.  Wait too long, and the younger one will only have an older sibling they know of, rather then know innately.

Diamonds in the Rough

It was bed time but Paul had one of those reflective questions, “Dad, why do we do so many things?”

I figured I knew what Paul was referring to, but played dumb. Like what?

“Well, we have to read, and play piano, and kick the soccer ball and other things. I don’t think we get enough time to relax, and you know, goof around like boys do” Once again his 8 year old introspective side had kicked in. Sidd concurred with ruffled eyebrows.

I left them, got Molly’s wedding ring, ran outside, got a rock, and came back. They love superlatives currently so I asked, Do you know what is the hardest rock in the world? It’s the diamond, like in mommy’s ring. See how shiny it is?

What followed was a fierce, concentrated inspection; one that only a youngster can do.

Did you know that a diamond starts out as dull as this rock? But if you rub it and polish it over and over, boy, after doing this for a long time, it starts to shine. Then we give it edges so it captures the light and throws it back at you with all those sparkles.

Sometimes people call an unpolished diamond a “diamond in the rough”. That is what you 2 are – our diamonds in the rough. And all that math, and music, and soccer and other things are polishing you into these amazing boys. We need to make it fun along the way and if it isn’t you tell me.

Paul looked off into he distance as he digested this analogy. “I think I get it now, Dad,” He clambered into bed; it was a start at outlining why he was in the various things he is. But there would be more to discuss, undoubtedly.

Hand of God – Guiding My Detroit Rolling Iron

I can look back and see explicit examples where nothing other than the hand of God ensured my well being.  Here’s one.

I had just finished grad school and had capped off my college days with a late night at the Chicago Blues Festival with my good friend Gunter Frank, who was a med student on a visiting rotation from Heidelberg.  I absolutely needed to drive the 350 miles down to Southern Illinois in the morning, as the next day I had a flight out of St. Louis to Hong Kong and then India for 3 months of vacation.  So on less than 5 hours of sleep, I happily loaded my capacious 1978 Olds 98 with my most precious grad student belongings and sundries, (photos, camera, stereo, albums, clothes) and an antique full-sized bed frame and headboard (that literally fit in the back seat, such was the volume of this ship I drove).  I then pointed pointed my Detroit rolling iron homeward down Interstate 57.  In front of me, both good and bad, was flat, boring, straight lengths of highway.

100 miles into the trip, I could feel the waves of sleep suddenly coming on.  My friends used to call me “narc” as we all thought I had some manner of narcolepsy, so quickly could I fall asleep.  (In truth, it was probably a simple case of sleep deprivation.)  The next exit was about 10 miles away where a coffee would “fix” this issue with a vengeance.  Time for some defensive maneuvers: dial up the radio; light up the rare cigarette; partially roll down the windows on the right so that a cool wind hits the back of my head.  I continued to barrel along at 75 miles an hour, familiar with the conflict underway.

But I lost this one.

As I approached the intersection in mind, I slipped off to sleep.  The car, being essentially a living room on wheels, ever so slowly drifted to the right and into what should have been the shoulder of the highway.  But that very exit I was looking for was upon me.  So the car was lined up with the now widening road.  I awoke just as the exit rose upward, and curved dramatically rightward.  Now things got surreal.  The car shot off the road, down a long embankment, and like a curling rock, slowly rotated right ward in the soft muddy dirt below  The tall wild grass was madly slapping the window to my left as the 98 slid sideways.  I was creating a 25 foot wide swath in the foliage.  Inside the car, I witnessed a slow swirl of clothes, record albums, photos, books.  My material life was being stirred like a martini.

As quickly as this all started it was over.  Silence in the car. A quiet rustling of the wild grass.  The hiss of cars zipping by on the highway.  I had narrowly and completed averted a catastrophe.  To my left was the overpass for this exit – with unforgiving concrete walls and pillars that had been avoided.  In front of me, literally 200 feet away, a diner with a large “Fresh Coffee” sign.  I sheepishly walked trudged thru the soft mud from a recent rain and into the diner.

“Uh, can you get me a tow truck?”  Your car break down or run out of gas?  “Well no, i just drove it into that field by your exit ramp,” I said, feeling phenomenally idiotic.  A friend of the guy behind the counter leaned forward, You fall asleep?  The guy behind the counter jumped in, Don’t ask that! Why are you pokin’ around for?  With a big grin, the buddy said, Shit I did that last year, just wanted to know.

The rest of the journey was uneventful.  I caught my flight from St. Louis to Asia the next day.  But only due to the divine providence that helped keep me in this current life.  Hard to believe my good fortunes.

Polishing Diamonds: Never Order From the Kid’s Menu

How often have you seen the following:  You are at a capable restaurant, with a menu renowned far and wide.  But you notice the younger ones at the party next to you are eating chicken nuggets.  From the kitchen freezer! Prepared in a microwave!  Not the salmon cooked to a delectable nuance.  Nor beef from some remote grassy pasture, or mushrooms good enough for a sitting president.

Funny part is that we are at our most malleable when we are young.  Yet we all too often pass on the chance to create a transcontinental palette in our children due to some queasy look they had at some misty point in the past.  Rather than keeping a firm hand on the tiller, we retreat for frozen lunch food.  Had Tiger Woods dad asked Tiger at the age of 2 what he thought of golf (remarkably, Earl started Tiger down this avenue before Tiger was two) the mystified look of the baby would have killed the whole venture before it has started.

So nudge them into the culinary unknown. Talk of what they will see in Kyoto and have them try Tempura.  Discuss Gaudi’s grand architecture and order up the Tortilla Espanola.  Before you know it, they will be perusing the menu, calling out combinations they like and what to try next.  And you will have broadened their world well before their first excursion across the ocean

One of Joni Mitchell’s Finest

Watching the 2010 Winter Olympics stirred up a few tangential memories…

When I as in the 8th grade my parents sent me to the “International Music Camp” at International Falls, MN.  I asked them to sign me up for the guitar sessions as I had been taking classical guitar for years. 

Those next 2 weeks were remarkable and unexpected in two ways. 

Remember I was a boy growing up in a Mennonite prairie town: truly pure, straightforward; no school dances; no liquor store.  No one was dating someone else in the 8th grade, unlike today.  My friendships we akin to those in Stephen King’s breathtaking novel Stand By Me.  Clean sublime experiences, not exposed yet to so many of life’s ways.

The camp held 2 surprises.  The 1st: my first crush, to another camper, Brenda Bonogofsky from Carson, North Dakota, and this on its own was enough to make an indelible mark upon me.  I mean, that’s what such initial experiences do, no?  (That is a story for another day.)

The 2nd surprise was discovering such greats as Joni Mitchell, to whom I was introduced thru the pot smoking, laid back but hard rocking teachers of our guitar session.  Classical guitar, this was NOT.  And to my delight.   Boy was I glad my dad didn’t know what he was signing me up for!

I learned that guitars were like fine wines, such as the 12 string Ovation one classmate carried.  We journeyed thru the lyrics of such American poets as Neil Young, Crosby / Stills / Nash, and Joni.   The words were like nothing I had come across before and it’s taken years for their meaning to come into view, starting with long meandering discussions with the instructors, with classmates and Brenda.

Here’s one I just heard at the Olympics’ opening ceremony that I always loved, by the inimitable Ms. Mitchell (video below too):

Both Sides Now
(Joni Mitchell)

Rows and floes of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons ev'rywhere
I've looked at clouds that way

But now they only block the sun
They rain and snow on ev'ryone
So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way
I've looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It's cloud illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way you feel
As ev'ry fairy tale comes real
I've looked at love that way

But now it's just another show
You leave 'em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know
Don't give yourself away

I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take, and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall
I really don't know love at all

Tears and fears and feeling proud
To say "I love you" right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I've looked at life that way

But now old friends are acting strange
They shake their heads, they say I've changed
Well something's lost, but something's gained
In living ev'ry day

I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all
I've looked at life from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all

Thank you, Joni, my goodness, what words these are.

A Happy Holidays 2009

Happy Holidays from Sidd, Paul, Molly and myself!

This note comes to you from the lush, coastal, southwestern state of Kerala in India, where we have the good fortune of visiting with family and friends on our first long vacation since 2005. I took this shot as we rode an auto-ricksha back to Molly’s Uncle Immanuel’s place. I LOVE autorickshas: on the one hand their itty bitty 2 cycle engines create a disastrous amount of pollution; on the other other hand, you smell, hear, taste, feel and see your excursions in relative comfort like no other vehicle I know of ; and a good driver will patiently snake thru the most remarkably congested traffic - - “seeing” openings created by the moving geometry of buses, cars, lorries, and motorcycles. More abstractly, this particular scene made me think of how we hurtle thru time and life with friends and family in some manner of capsule - - that is, nested in the trappings of our belongings, with our talents, time and more intangible treasures.

The Journey Forward into 2010, Copyright 2009, Abe Pachikara