A Special Performance

If you haven’t figured it out yet, music is a big part of my life. It’s something I actually had to fight to keep involved with. Not in a “Fight Club” kind of way, but there was a period of time where it would have been very easy to cut my losses and say farewell to being involved in any form of music aside from iPods and youtube videos. Lucky for all of us, MTV has taken the steps to remove it from television.  Aww….poor VJ’s….remember VJ’s?

About a year after we moved to Idaho, I went to the local Highland Games. If you’ve never heard of a Highland Games, feel free to consider that normal. It’s a Scottish festival consisting of music, food, dancing, and the actual games (yes, one of the events is where they throw the big stick). It’s a great time, and a place where no one looks at you funny for wearing a kilt. A rare thing indeed. It was there that I happened upon the Boise Highlanders, a very established bagpipe band here in Idaho. Here’s where things get, well, slightly insulting. In a way.

I’m a drummer. In the most loosely formed sense of that word. I don’t consider myself amazing to watch. I’ve had almost no real training. What I know has been gleaned from years of being in contact with people who are better at this craft than I will ever be. I’m okay with it. Is that the insult? Nope!

When I saw the Highlanders for the first time I looked at Melissa and said, “I could play with those guys.”

It’s not that they are bad or anything, but particularly from a drumming standpoint they do things to be on the easier side. We play slightly basic bagpipes tunes, and we do it as well as we can. We even have fans! It’s been an amazing experience so far, truly.

Along we our fans, certain organizations have become very attached to having us perform for them. Which brings me to a story that leads to a very special performance this weekend.

Every year we are invited to perform at a festival in Ontario, Oregon. It’s called “America’s Global Village Festival” and from an entertainment standpoint, the Highlanders are certainly a main attraction. This year I was unable to attend to due to some things we needed to do with the boys, and perhaps someone was looking out for me and my family.

Barely into the performance this year, a little punk kid and his cousin, who were high on god knows what, jumped the curb onto the grass in their car and drove directly into the grand stands.

Let me say that again. They drove into a crowd of people with their car. Smashing a section of stairs that sent metal shards flying, hitting a member of the band, and pinning a THREE YEAR OLD BOY, between the car and bleachers. A 91 year old woman was hit. No deaths, but once all the counts and recounts were finished, almost 30 people ended up in the hospital. Most with minor injuries, 3 severe, one enough to be air-lifted to a larger hospital.

The driver was laughing and smiling during, and after, this terrifying ordeal. Laughing. While a 3 year old boy cried for help.

His passenger attempted to get out and simply walk away. He was “placed” back into the car and kept there by a member of the band. Two other members of the band, who are police officers, ran and shut off the engine to the car, taking the keys, and began to move the car back so people could get free.

The park is located directly across the street from the local hospital and first responders were there in minutes. Lots of luck that day.

This weekend the Boise Highlanders are putting on a free concert, at the same park, in the same location. While it’s open to anyone, we have made attempts to ensure that those involved with the crash have been invited. As well, the city will be honoring the first responders.

I don’t put this information out there to brag about the group, though clearly while we may be small, we have some amazing people involved. I want to put out an invite to anyone reading who might be in the area, and perhaps one of those reminders that we all need from time to time.

A three year old boy…that’s William. The bleachers…that’s where Melissa and the boys would have been, no doubt about it. Think of it as circumstance, luck, divine intervention…whatever you want. The point is that you never know what might happen next. Hug your babies.

For the concert: It starts at 3pm at Lion’s Park in Ontario, Oregon. If you find yourself close enough, and have the time, I hope you’ll come out and support not only the police and medical units involved, but the people and families hurt by this.

I don’t know what will become of the driver or his passenger, and I wish I didn’t care. After hearing several people describe the face and the laughter from the driver, and the look on the face of the little boy before the car hit the stands…

…hug your babies.

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I Did a Good Job – Proof Inside

This past week was really stressful for me. The addition of Bonus Baby has challenged everything I “know” about parenting. Really. I have come to a point where I question if I’m ever doing anything right. I feel as though I’m gaining a little more control each day. As if I’m understanding how a 4 month old fits into the already organized chaos of the house. I’m somewhat sure they have been using the Jurassic Park idea of testing the fence for weak spots, and some days I worry that they’ve figured out how to get Newman out of the park with the stolen DNA samples. I’ll say that at the very least, I have a new found level of respect for single parents and parents with lots of kids. I don’t know how they do it and keep their sanity. Three kids instead of two. It doesn’t seem like there should be that much of a difference.

I was stressed, and I needed a good weekend to recharge. I got it.

celebration

It was a long day, and I was intent to spend most of my Sunday catching my breath in anticipation for the week. My safety net, Melissa, would no longer be there for my extra pair of hands. They would be replaced by the small, less helpful hands of Bonus Baby. Yep. Good luck prying me off the couch. Well, plans have a way of changing. I find I tend to fall into the category of “a plan is just a list of shit that isn’t gonna happen.” I’m so glad it went that way.

For those of you who might wonder if I’m in the very stereotypical category of “cheap Scotsman” well, let’s just say that six months ago I noted that it was time to get new shoes. So I went shopped on Sunday. I decided that it would be a nice change if I took Carter out and let Melissa and William stay at home. I think kids like a little one on one sometimes. Even though I know the boys and I need time apart, getting out alone really changes things. Carter and I had a good morning, but I didn’t find any shoes that I was willing to buy, and by “willing to buy” I mean shoes that fell into my mythical criteria of being really great shoes that were under $40. See “cheap Scotsman.” After coming home for lunch and getting a fairly insistent reminder from Melissa that it was okay for me to spend more than $40 because A) I really needed to get new shoes. B) I was going to wear the shoes for roughly 50 years so the money kind of spreads out. See “cheap Scotsman.”

I decided to switch things up after lunch, and took William out with me. Mostly because it was Carter’s nap time, but also mostly to switch things up. I wanted to take a slightly different approach than normal with William. Those of you who’ve been reading for a while will remember that William was late to really start talking, and perhaps that has led Melissa and I to be hesitant with helping him to progress in other areas. I see parents with kids who have to be William’s age, who don’t have to worry about letting go of their child’s hand for a moment without risking the immediate sprinting of said child to the most dangerous object in the area. I see parents who can avert their gaze for more than half a second without the worry of their child seeing that as an opportunity to create havoc. I decided that William and I were going to join those ranks, and he went above and beyond my expectations.

First off, in keeping with the “here’s the plan, let’s mess it up” theme of the day, it went from quick run to check a different shoe store, to an almost three hour trip all over town. Home Depot (not-so-fun-time project post in the future?!!!), and three different shoes stores. Did I mention that I really hate shopping?

William decided to be my little slice of redemption. From the start, I made sure to give him a little freedom when I could. Walking down the isle at Home Depot? “Just stay close, buddy,” I’d whisper to him. Sure enough, as we made our way through the store he followed along by my side. Occasionally he’d stop to look at an interesting tool or sheet of plywood. At one point he stopped at big metal beam that ran up to the ceiling, and began knocking on it. He figured out that it was hollow and turned to me saying, “Open, daddy, open!” My kid thinks I can rip open metal with my bare hands….how was your Sunday?

The little extra space and freedom continued through the shoe stores, and by the time we arrived at the final location I think we were both ready to just fall asleep. We had landed at DSW, a place I had never been to because it had not opened a store in my living room. A bit rude. William had started to get antsy to be home, but since he was tired, I was able to give him an alternative to running away from me and putting every shoe in the store into one large pile. Sitting! I would put him on one of the seats they provide for people to try on shoes in whatever area I was in, and bring him my latest choice. Which brings me to my over-the-top cute moment for this post.

In an effort to keep him engaged and still in each spot I went to, I included him in the process. I’d hand him the box, and I would take out one shoe, handing him the other to inspect. Then I’d simply try it on, without making a big fuss over him. Sometimes he’d take one of his shoes off to try the new one on like daddy, and other times he’d just pull out that wad of paper they always stuff into the shoes to…eh…keep their shape? Anyhow, everything was working so well! I can’t put it into words how nice it was to have him sit down, and put my attention on finding the right size, glancing over to always find him in the same place. He was behaving so well. Someone was getting a chocolate chip cookie on the way home.

The thing that floored me though, was whenever I’d try on a shoe, and it had to actually be on my foot, William would give me a once over and say, “Cool shoes, daddy. Cooool shoes. Good job!” I don’t know where that came from, especially considering he only did it at DSW, after two other shoe stores. All I know is that it was awesome, I appreciated the feedback, and I wanted to try on lots of shoes to keep hearing him say it.

Lots of hugs and a cookies were had before we went home.

And for the record, my new shoes are cool. I did a good job.

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