While at World of Fun with Rissy, I witnessed a couple of things that were pretty disturbing. When we were in line for Fury of the Nile, a bit behind us in line were a group of guys that looked to be about 30. One had his son with him, who was about 5 or 6. These guys were crude, making comments on the various attributes of the women who were coming off the ride. More than once I'd peer back when the dad holding his son would be making some comment as well, in addition to their liberal use of vulgar language. Dads, this is how sons grow up to be as crude, unintelligent, and insensitive as you. Ever hear the song "Cats in the Cradle" by Harry Chapin? Same thing without the vulgarities.

We stupidly waited in line for about 2.5 hours for Asylum Island, part of their Halloween Haunt. We'd never done that at Worlds of Fun, and given the ridiculously huge lines for all the Halloween Haunt attractions, this one in particular, we thought it surely must be just amazing. It wasn't. But while we waited in line, there was a dad there with his small boys (about 5 or 6 and maybe 7 or 8). Asylum Island was made to be an insane asylum where the patients had taken over. Some of the patients were wandering the grounds and would interact a bit with the people in line. These two boys were taunting them mercilessly and completely inappropriately, while their dad just watched and laughed. I understood that the boys were doing this to cope with their fear, and when one of the actors bolted across the 20 yards or so that separated him from the taunting boys, they of course freaked out. Now I don't mean that the actor just ran - he was clearly an athlete, and he covered that 20 years in about 2 seconds down on all fours, including jumping up to a picnic table and down again in that position. The boys ran to their dad and asked him if the guys could touch them "no matter what we do", to which their dad assured them that they couldn't, and that no matter what his sons did or said the people would get into trouble if they touched them in any way. This of course emboldened them further to then go out into the fog-machine haze and seek the actors out. Of course they once again came running scared back to their dad after a minute or so. Model parenting this was not.

Of less surprising note was the late teen/early twenties guys making nearly-nonstop sexual observations about various girls. I realized later that this was just their own coping mechanism to deal with their fears and insecurities when it comes to women - just like the boys did to cope with their fears. It's a sad reflection of parenting and growing up in our society, and I once again weep for our future.

Rissy's birthday was great! She had a chocolate ice-cream cake, which was a first for her, and she got the game she's been begging for - Sims City 4. Be sure the check out the photos from Worlds of Fun, where we rode:

•  Flying Dutchman - once
• Viking Voyager - once
• Fury of the Nile - once
• Train - once
• Asylum Island - once
• Sea Dragon - once
• Spinning Dragons - once
• Zulu - once
• Cyclone Sams - twice
• Thunderhawk - twice
• Bamboozler - twice
• Patriot - twice
• Boomerang - three times
• Mamba - three times
• Timber Wolf - four times

 UPDATE - I realized there were a couple of things I tried to make mental notes to include when I blogged about our trip, and of course I forgot. Rissy and I are HUGE Weird Al fans, so we brought the DVD of all his music videos to play on our portable DVD player in the car. I couldn't watch, but Rissy cranked it up and we both sang along, with much enthusiasm. I'm sure some people likely saw us and got a chuckle.

Another of our road-trip tradition DVDs is Robin Hood: Men in Tights. I've not actually seen this one more than a few times, but I've heard it plenty. Rissy knows all the lines and recites, RHPS-style, right along with much of the movie, it is so cute. I hope I get a couple more years of my "little" girl before she turns into a big girl that won't do these wonderful things with her dad.

On the trip back home, we stopped at an Arby's drive through before leaving Kansas City - Arby's is by far her favorite. She promptly passed out soon after, and I knew she was really out of it when I noticed the condensation from her drink dripping down from the window cup holder of our non-air-conditioned car onto her bare leg - and she didn't so much as twitch a muscle.

Rissy turns into a teenager Saturday, the big 13. I'm taking her to Worlds of Fun in Kansas City, just the two of us. We've never done that before, and I know it's going to be a blast! It's going to be a long day, too, since we're going for Halloween Haunt and the park is open until 1:00 a.m. We'll also be spending the night at a hotel, something Rissy just loves to do, so this will be a birthday to remember, I'm sure.

I remember going to Worlds of Fun at the same age with my twin brother Kevin and our friend Donnie Dunn. His family invited us to go with them, which for two extra guests wasn't inexpensive. We had the best time I ever remember having there, literally running from ride to ride as fast as we could. I wish I had pictures of my geeky, skinny, 7th grade self from that trip. Three young pals, not a care in the world, having one fantastic day together.

I'll be sure to get lots of pictures of this trip with Rissy. Soon she won't want to do this sort of thing with her dad.

Last night was our school's homecoming dance, and Marissa invited her cousin Vika to go with her. For those who don't know, Vika is from Russia and has only been in this country about 6 months. The theme was Thriller, so before we left to take the girls to the dance Marissa looked up the Thriller video on YouTube. As Vika watched, she suddenly recognized the main character and exclaimed, "Michael Jackson is black!" 

Marissa took our smaller digital camera with her for pictures will be up soon. 

I came across some information on a young Japanese pilot in WWII named Yukio Araki. I've got nothing to add about him, except maybe that if you don't cry while reading this, read it again with your heart.

I've been thinking more about men and bathrooms. No, not in that Larry Craig way. I mean in that men-standing-up-to-pee-is-responsible-for-the-downfall-of-civilization sort of way. Maybe I should explain.

Standing up to pee is just lazy. It's not that hard to undo your pants and sit down to pee. Do men feel too busy to take that little bit of extra time? Or maybe men just feel too much of an "ewwww" factor thinking about other mens butts being on that seat, so they only do it when they have to. This could also explain why men have to have something to read when they do their business - distraction.

Or maybe men feel too important - that could be why executives like to have their own private bathrooms, no association with the riff-raff that way don't you know.

And don't get me going on men's aim. You make a mess, you should clean it up. Works for my kids, anyway, but not for typical men in bathrooms, it would seem.

You see if most men weren't this way, then they'd be more sensitive and empathetic. How much destruction at the hands of self-centered, self-important men could have been avoided if only they didn't pee standing up? Mothers - teach your young boys to pee sitting down, the future of civilization might just depend on it.

After many years of public bathroom research, I am at last ready to publish my resulting theories. The first of these is called "Always use the second stall." Since most men like to pee standing up, but some don't like to do so in public, they will use a stall for that purpose. The most popular stall to use from my observations is the first one. A corollary theory stemming from this observation is that most men are also lazy - it's why they not only choose the first (and hence closest to the door) stall, but also why they tend to be too lazy to actually pay attention to where they are peeing.

Men who bypass the first stall seem to value their privacy all the more, and therefore head to the last stalls furthest from the door. This is again based on the evidence left behind. This group also disdains the second stall because if the first stall is being used by someone from the first group, then there is also the risk of splash damage.

It can be concluded, therefore, that the safest (i.e. most hygienic) stall to use is the second stall, despite the concerns exhibited by the second group. You just have to be sure to keep your feet raised above the bottom of the partition.

My second theory stemming from my extensive research on this topic, is that companies staffing college-educated professionals have a tendency to hire a comparatively large number of handicapped employees, particularly the blind. This theory was formulated by the direct observation of the typically well-kept corporate bathroom stall still being covered in carelessly directed urine. The only conclusion that I am able to reach from this observation is that the companies in question must have a number of blind, male employees. Otherwise, if the men in question weren't blind, then they could easily see the results of their misdeeds and take appropriate corrective action. Clearly, this is not the case.

This research has led me to wonder what the allure of peeing standing up is for men. I'm still stumped on this, however, and have as yet been unable to formulate a coherent hypothesis.

Avast, ye wanderers of the open 'net, it be Talk Like a Pirate Day, and ye be likin' it, too, or ye be getting the ropes end!

I'm reminded, I am, of a time a few sails back, when I found meself boot deep in all manner of piratical scallywags. Twas quite a sight to be sure, nigh to a sutler at a strange port 'twas...

We were shopping at Target earlier, and while I was waiting outside the fitting rooms for Rissy and Melanie, I noticed a girl of about 13 sitting alone in the waiting area by the fitting rooms, too. She was intently examining some sort of toy set, something with small figurines etc. It was clearly something intended for someone younger, and I found it interesting how much this new teen was admiring this toy, this symbol of her own youth. She looked up suddenly and hurriedly put the package back into her cart just as her mom and younger sister came out of a fitting room. She clearly didn't want to get caught longing for this mere child's toy.

As bemused as I was at this observation, I was also somewhat melancholy. If you can't still be a kid at 13, then I guess 47 is just right out... 

Today I am in Minneapolis helping get my oldest daughter settled into her place before classes start next week. She's a sophomore transferring here and it's her first time away from home. Bittersweet doesn't even begin to describe how I feel about today. She's a wonderful girl, so smart, so talented. I'm so happy to see her striking out on her own on a huge campus in a huge city. I know it's scary for her, as it is for me, but I also know she'll do just fine.

The last year has been so trying for our family, and I know Kathryn just gets lost in the shuffle - she always takes care of herself and her responsibilities and that makes it far too easy to almost ignore her most of the time when there is so much else to take up my attention. It hasn't been fair to her, for her, and now she won't be there at home to just see. The simple joy of a parent watching a child. Sigh.

I'll miss you, my daughter, more than you'll know and for reasons you won't know. I love you. Sigh...

David Duchovny checks into rehab for sex addiction. If you are really, really quiet and you listen really, really, really hard you can actually hear the faint murmur of women all over the country saying, "Pick me, pick me"...

Wil Wheaton mentioned something in a recent blog entry that I thought was very interesting, something that makes me think about the movie The Karate Kid. What Wil said was this:

"... until I take time off and recover HP. Problem is, I always feel guilty, like I'm being a deadbeat while Anne does real work during these times."

He was referring to the need as a creative person to take time off for himself, to recharge - and that it makes him feel guilty because his wife still has to work at her "real" job. I think this is likely a common feeling with creatives, and I know my wife Melanie feels this way sometimes, too. But what you creative people out there have to realize is that we partners with "real" jobs most often do our own recharging through you.

I love it when Melanie has creative bursts. It's a joy to watch someone you care deeply about be so into their creativity - so into life. We do what we do because you can't, and you do what you do because we can't. It's all about balance, just like Miyagi says to Daniel. Two creatives can make a life together work, just like two non-creatives can. But to have one of each - that is beautiful balance.

About 6:30 this morning I could smell someone making breakfast. At my house, that was unusual. I figured Katie must be cooking, although that was far too early for her.

About 7:20 there was a knock on our bedroom door that it was time for us to get up. We opened the door to be greeted by Sydney and Marissa and a big breakfast waiting on the table! Pancakes, muffins, toast, eggs, bacon (real and veggie), and lemonaide. It was all quite delicious and the girls were just brimming with excitement over our reactions.

"What's your favorite part?", Marissa asked a couple of times. And of course we were regaled with the tale of it's preparation and how they set their alarm for 4:45 to start the planning process. Those crazy girls!

By 10:30 they were both soundly asleep in the family room, of course, for a well-deserved rest!

Sigh...what thoughtful girls I have.

My brother's family recently went to the awesome Henry Doorly Zoo, and took Marissa along. And of course, there are lots of photos!

I just read a great article by Josh Waitzkin titled "Multitasking Virus in our Classrooms". It's a terrific piece, and I especially love this line:

 "Too many primary, elementary, and high schoolers are being boxed into
the mold of conformity required by big classes, competition for grades,
tests with multiple choice questions. The first grader who leaps to his
feet when he figures out the math problem is diagnosed as ADHD and
medicated to sit quietly with the class."

 I still haven't picked up his book, The Art of Learning, but I am certain it is a must-read.