mccullochblog

My Invitation to Fly on the Space Shuttle

Sleep experts now contend that the main reason we need to get our quota of shut-eye is that it helps us absorb, digest and learn from what we've experienced in the preceeding day.

On this basis, I would like to set aside a week's sleep to really thoroughly digest what the preceding 52 weeks of my life have taught me. (Note: I mean seven consecutive days and nights, not just nights.)

Given there is fat chance of this happening, I will instead to resort to an old method of adding up the gains and losses of this year in terms of my wisdom, wealth and happiness:

Being 38 in Review

 +Gained: 54,531 airmiles en route to, and coming back from, Vancouver, Chicago, London, Seattle, Tuscany and Budapest.  (Hey, that's not a bad year!)

-Lost: One tree in the back yard due to a mysterious leaf-wilting disease...after which I cut it down.

+Gained: A few more pounds, and few more dollars: neither in sufficient amounts to either medically or financially retire.

-Lost: Touch with contemporary music. Ever heard of Crank Dat by Soulja Boy? No. Me either. But apparently 487 million people have watched it on YouTube.

+Gained: More appreciation for simply being a dad and a husband. Playing with trucks is  cool; assembling ingenious train tracks layouts in the garage is even cooler: being a strong family unit is the best!

-Lost: Countless hours watching "Commodities Corner" on CNBC in the early mornings. Oh, the lengths I go to to stay up-to-date with the financial markets. Pork bellies, anyone?

+Gained: A newfound appreciation for my modest sleep quota...because from December onwards, when our second little offspring arrives, I know I will be getting even less!

-Lost: My last chance to fly in a Space Shuttle. Okay, so the chances were always slim that I was going to get invited to join the crew of Atlantis on the launch pad on July 6th, but I can now confirm that now invitation has been forthcoming with my birthday cards.

+Gained: Many good times with close friends and dear family. There are never enough hours, of course, but keep the invites coming for those weddings, kids' parties, birthday parties, stag dos....just get them in before December!

Last but not least...

Neither gained nor lost: any sense of an impending mid-life crisis! Roll-on 40!

Marking Time

America is obsessed with numbers. The Oscars were not simply the Oscars last week; they were Oscars #83. The SuperBowl is never just "this year's Superbowl"...it's always SuperBowl XXXIV or some such. (Are the Roman numerals meant to make us believe gridiron was played at the Colluseum?) Even the White House is not immune: the 44th President of the United States, anyone?

The obvious explanation for all this 'adding up' is that modern America is not terribly old and Americans feel strangely compelled to hide the fact.

This seems very strange to Europeans like me, because in Europe, basically everything is old. I recall, for example, being on a walking tour of Boston back in 1992 when the guide pointed out that the State Hall there dated back to 1713. "Wow!" gasped the mainly American crowd, but not I. I grew up in a town that had a castle dating back to 1180.

Anyway, I can sympathize with both the numbers obsession (I studied Maths, after all) AND with the desire to hide the real age of things, although in my case, I'm erring on the side of making things seem younger.

For example, i consider that I am still firmly in my mid-thirties, on the basis of the mid-thirties stretching from 32 to 38. I may decide that 39 is also a mid-thirty number when I hit that landmark in June.

That, actually, is more-or-less the reason I'm writing today. I need an awesome destination-location for my 40th birthday next June. It has to be a family-friendly location some place in between London Heathrow Airport and San Francisco international. Any thoughts?

Come on! I need ideas. Washington DC? The Great Lakes? What should it be, friends? Iceland? Newfoundland? I'm open to suggestions so long as the proposals include (a) something cool to see, (b) somewhere nice to stay for a few days...and (c) well, some sort of proximity to an airport!

RSVP!

 

William's First Birthday!

On the way home after his 100th birthday party, William's great grandfather (for whom William is named) said to me with a broad, mischievous smile on his face: "Dave, I wish it could be my birthday every day!"

That moment has stayed with me as a reminder that you're never too old and never too young to deserve a special birthday.

And what better age to start a fine tradition of special birthdays than at age one!?

It was with that spirit in our hearts that Emma and I dragged ourselves out of bed at 6.20 this morning to go and sing "Happy Birthday" to William for the first time in his life.

OK, so it took us a bit too long to get to his room, and by then he had tears streaming down his cheeks, and snot running down his nose, but it all got better from there!

The sing-a-long was quickly followed by two simultaneous webcams with Oma Wil and Grandpa David and Grandma Ann (while unwrapping presents) followed by another webcam with cousins George and Lauren and Auntie Sarah (and more present unwrapping).

After a little exploring of new toys and a brief nap, off we went to Il Fornaio for lunch, where William ate his first ever ice cream (Oh boy, does William like ice cream now!). Then there was just enough time for a little more playing with new toys, before another nap before dinner and a grande finale of chocolate birthday cake before bed.

What more could a one-year-old want?! Happy Birthday, William!...and here's your first "Happy Birthday" song again!