Franklinsanity

A crank's musings on family, drink, travel, food & life

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  • Independence Day

    Independence Day

    5 pm, New Britain, CT:  sometimes this blog is more than a little elitest. And that’s authentic, in that some of what makes up Franklinsanity isn’t particularly accessible to the average person, or family. But as I sit here enjoying a quiet moment on a lazy Fourth of July, it’s worth noting three things for the record:

    1. Gratitude and semi-serious snarky outrage can, in fact, coexist. The important part is the gratitude – for my family, the experiences, the people, the adventures and the places that make any of this worth reading, if it is. I appreciate them all. Even the smell of lighter fluid. 
    2. America is always, already, a great country. Great isn’t perfect. Far from it. But it is epic and it’s home. 
    3. I think it was kind of marketing genius, therefore, for Budweiser to rename itself “America” for the summer. 

    Record complete now, on to new topics. The kids have been napping, as have I. Not sure what HHW has been up to – she was working a lot today, which was impressive. I’m not looking forward to the onslaught of email I’ll likely get starting tonight, myself. 

    (Notice how I say I’ll “get” all this email. As though I won’t, myself, send about 50 questions out to various teams first thing tomorrow. If you take it, I say dish it out too. 

    I kid, I kid. I’m just a very curious person and I want to know where the heck we are on that project?)

    But I digress. Dinner and fireworks are on the agenda. And bug spray. The whole family is delicious to bugs. And the East Coast has them in spades. 

    Except for me. My grandfather on my dad’s side didn’t appear to even get mosquito bites. My Dad barely does. I do get them. But they go away completely in about 10-15 minutes. Not so much for HHW, or for my kids. Which is a raw deal for them. 

    I mean, with me as a father the least they could get was some mosquito immunity. But, no such luck. 

    Another thing for which I am grateful!

    HHW is a special case, however. Mosquitos seem to target her posterior and upper thighs. It’s relentless and incredible. So I think tonight, we will perhaps tie some of those burning oil things in Tiki torches to her waist. That will go nicely with the fireworks, if nothing else. 

    Cue the eye-rolling from wife and kids. 

    It’s after 5. Time to go drink some America. Or at least some IPA. 

    PS:  today’s featured image is Quinn’s latest work of art:  Rainbow Cat, Rain Cat, Night Cat, Storm Cat and Sunshine Cat. They make rainbows, rain, the moon and stars, storms and the dawn. In case you didn’t know. 

    As theology goes, sounds pretty good. 

  • Lawn ball

    Lawn ball

    Whocaresoclock, CT shore :  grass right up to rocky beaches; the Sound; a light breeze; a football = solid holiday weekend day for Ted and Quinn. HHW and I stuffed full of fried clams from some authentic local shack. Kids likewise full. 

    Time for a beer!

    Ice cream on way home planned. Miss the dogs, but am sure they are doing ok with Ga and Pap – and Louie. 

    Funny thing I always forget about many northern East Coast beaches – how small they are, how fast they fill up, and how (relatively) warm the water is. 

    (Got kind of cranky at Teddy when he claimed the Sound was cold. It’s got to be 10 degrees warmer than the Pacific near us. At least. But then again he spends no time in flat water that isn’t a pool and didn’t quite know how to get in and under and out of the breeze.)

    Also not used to the the smell of lighter fluid – even at the public grills, it’s not really a Marin scent. (How’s that for a ridiculous statement?) Different fire habits, different coasts, I suppose. 

    Need to go get that beer. 

  • Moves Like Jagger

    Moves Like Jagger

    9:35 am – somewhere en route to CT shore: third row set up, kids jammed in back, coolers packed, brother-in-law and significant other in second row, beach-bound!

    Maroon Five on radio. This pleases Q-boo. She doesn’t know who Mick Jagger is, really, but she does actually move like him. 

    We had to adjust the speaker system to her specifications, in order to pump it in back. Thank god for modern cars. 

    Teddy’s stuffed in his earphones. 

    Onward. 

  • Buoy ball, Gaga and swimming 

    Buoy ball, Gaga and swimming 

    5:20 am, New Britain and environs, CT:  big day for the kids yesterday. Minor pool party – meaning Quinn in the water nearly the entire time, and meaning Ted got to both swim and play buoy ball. 

    What is buoy ball you might ask?  Some kind of bat stuffed into a lobster buoy. With which you hit a big fat softball-sized ball. Bat is super top heavy and makes a loud smack when you connect. 

    Ted loved it. Of course. It involved hitting and throwing a ball. Eventually had his Dad, uncle and friend tuning around the lawn trying to retrieve his hits while he ran improvised bases, literally diving and sliding to avoid being tagged. 

    Quinn swam. 

    Then we switched venues to a private lake beach club place. Ted went sailing with friends’ older kids. 

    Quinn and I swam – back and forth to a diving raft. About 50 times. She is tireless. I got sort of exhausted. Damn fresh water. Where is that buoy when you need it?

    Ted and Quinn also played some kind of pit-bound, ground-oriented dodgeball game called Gaga. I’d never heard of it. Which is a little shocking given that it has been around since the 60’s. They loved it. Also, something involving knocking a frisbee into one of two cans, after a person standing at one can throws it at the other can. Also never heard of it. 

    What the heck happened to horseshoes? At least I know what the f*** swimming and sailing are. 

    Still, fascinating. Kids were basically dead by 930, which is when we got home and about 90 mins past their usual summer bedtime. 

    Today we hit another beach – on the Sound somewhere. I expect full crankiness when we roust them in about an hour. 

    Summer. It’s hard work!

  • Here comes the King

    Here comes the King

    8:30 am, New Britain CT:  in 1979 or thereabouts, Budweiser flooded the airwaves with an ad and a jingle that must have been fairly awesome, since I was 10 and didn’t give a hoot about beer, but was what we now call a total ear-worm. So much so I easily recall it, and its oddly seductive and bouncy polka beat, 37 years later. 

    Yes, math geniuses. I am 47. 

    Looking at the ad now, the jingle did pretty much all the work – the TV ad just is mostly slow-mo shots of Clydesdales trotting through the snow with a giant wagon of Bud. That’s it. 

    But for whatever reason it made a big impression. My parents seemed to think the ad was hilarious – so that was likely part of the appeal. 

    Of course, it didn’t sell any beer in our house. In the 70’s as far as I recall, my Dad – if he drank beer at all, drank Ballantine’s. 

    But it did make me laugh and I do remember it. Enough so that I showed Quinn and Ted the ad on YouTube and told them it made me think of Kingsley. Who is kind of a Clydesdale sized mini-goldendoodle. 

    Teddy could not stop laughing. We now are calling Kingsley “the big number one.”

    Here’s to the big number one!

  • Pool party, baby

    Pool party, baby

    8:02 am, New Britain, CT:  Back when the kids were smaller, we’d watch Yo Gabba Gabba a lot. If you don’t know it, you should. It’s sort of a trippier version of Sesame Street, if that’s possible. 

    At any rate, Ted’s – and for awhile Q boo’s – favorite features musical number was the Aquabats’ Pool Party.  All around inspired. Made me at least smile every time, sometimes even dance around like an idiot, no matter how early it was or sleep deprived I was. Basically, two minutes of inane but also clever joy with little kids. Which as parents all know, is essential to getting through the day. 

    So today, Uncle Sean is having an actual pool party. I reminded the kids about the song yesterday – somewhat to my disappointment they didn’t really recall it. But I told them I’d play the video for them today, to get them jazzed up. Looking forward to that. 

    They’re still in bed, actually. Total shocker, but fantastic given how tired they were. 

    Just me and the animals. JF going to the dogs, as usual. 

  • Commuter 

    Commuter 

    2:25 pm, New Haven, CT – heading into NYC for a day or two. Dressed like a jackass, because, well, it is summer on the East Coast. And it’s much more fun to look like Lenin playing at being Tom Wolfe back here than in SF. 

    Why the heck doesn’t Metro North have bar cars on this line?  

    Yet another reason not the commute by train from CT. 

    Looking forward to a quasi business dinner with friends tonight. Then back to the grind tomorrow, shaking hands and influencing people around our NYC office. Which has great views of the Brooklyn Bridge, but which also, regrettably, therefore, is down by Wall Street. 

    Even now the lunch and dinner options down there aren’t fantastic. Still, the spirit of capitalism will out, even if the Protestant ethic no longer dominates. 

    Better stop raining. Or my hat will distintegrate. 

  • Cocktail hour, NB-style

    Cocktail hour, NB-style

    6:30 pm, New Britain, CT:  sure, this is Connecticut and all. But not all of Connecticut is, say, Darien or Greenwich. 

    Thank God. No offense, friendly CT peeps. But. 

    Here, for instance, is what my mother-in-law and HHW, unsolicited, offered me for pre-dinner drinks. My sort-of joke can of IPA, literally labeled “IPA.”  And a red solo cup of Rose. 

    Does that make it a rose solo cup?

    You stay classy, New Britain. 

  • Tennis, anyone?

    Tennis, anyone?

    5:46 pm, New Britain, CT:  spent more time on a tennis court today than at any point in the last six years, with the exception of our racquet-minded friends Paul and Dot’s wedding. 

    I’ve had a love-hate relationship with the sport. But it felt good to be back out there. Especially with the kids and a hopper of balls. 

    Although I don’t think too much of the giant puffy balls they have for the really little kids. But I guess they are a little easier to hit. 

    In any case, we were out there mostly because of a dispute over a racquet. I got T and Q their own because they’re doing a tennis camp 3 times a week this summer. And during the first week, it looks at times as if Q’s might be a tad too heavy. She bobbles the ball a lot and seems to have some issues holding it straight on the backswing. 

    Personally I think that’s a lack of focus while waiting in line for the drill, based on what I saw. But to verify, we went out today to see how she would do with just Dad and Ted. 

    Can’t frankly see any difference with a smaller, lighter racquet. Except that she seems way too tall to hit with something about the size of a racquetball racquet. When she pays attention and turns her body, she wallops the ball off both sides. 

    The pro feels pretty strongly she needs a smaller racquet. Enough that he mentions it to her, to me, and to my in-laws. And it’s his camp. Not certain it’s worth being old school over, or giving Q a complex. I always wanted the heaviest possible racquet. 

    But so what?

    End of the day, Q and T and I were out there for an hour in the morning. And T and I were back out there for almost 2 this afternoon. That boy loves sports. 

    Now if only we can get the baseball out of his two-handed backhand….

    First world problems. 

  • Lazy Sunday? Not. 

    Lazy Sunday? Not. 

    4:09 pm, New Britain CT:  big day today. Took kids on their first-ever street-to-park bike ride. For the most part, they were excellent riders and listeners. No one got run over, or even came close. Significantly expanded our horizons. Small park is about half a mile away, and has a path exactly a mile in circumference. They did it twice-and-a-half round and biked there and back over hills and many bumps. Not bad, especially for Quinn, who remains on a little 16-inch wheeler. 

    Then a swim. Quinn can now dive. 

    Then washing the dogs. Seems they get into poison ivy. So when Teddy hugs them, he gets it all over. Lovely ROI for his affection. 

    Then some football tossing. And lunch of pizza and grinders. And of course, ice cream. 

    Then a nap – kids were up super late last night with us at a big family dinner. Much dancing to live R&B. Very little beats dancing with my daughter. Except watching Teddy dance with her too. 

    Nice CT summer day. 

    Well, lazy for one person. See below.