Terrible Analogies

I picked up Karin and Tyler from the airport yesterday afternoon. They’ve both been gone for a week visiting her folks and it was great to finally see them again. As I pulled up to the curb and waved to them I couldn’t help but notice how much Tyler had changed in the seven days that I haven’t seen him.

It only took a week, but I could clearly see the physical changes, and soon noticed that his mental development had progresses as well. I guess it’s a parent thing (I still can’t believe I am one), but having never raised a child before this moment came as a shock. I do not believe that sometime during the previous week my Tyler was abducted by pod people and replaced with a near-perfect carbon copy, but the changes were quite staggering and evident.

This, more than anything to date, has really hammered home the fact that Karin and I should treasure each day with Tyler.  Sooner than either of us expect he’ll be riding a bike, going to kindergarden, playing sports, doing well in school, attending his prom, going to college…then he’s gone.  Our son.  Off on his own. Forever.

But in the meantime we’re stocking up on DVDs of The Muppet Show, Sesame Street, and Mister Rogers…because every kid deserves a decent television role model.

Today marks our four year anniversary!

It’s scary how quickly four years can slip by.  It seems like just yesterday when Karin and I met for the first time for lunch, getting to know each other over self-conscious bites of sandwiches, trying our best not to get food stuck between our teeth.

And now here we are, four years later living in a great house with an amazing 19-month-old son, both of us doing quite well in our respective professions, and with no worries other than the upcoming zombie apocalypse.  How can life get any better?

And to celebrate, tonight we’ll be attending a production of The Rocky Horror Show at the Old Globe Theater in Balboa park.  We haven’t been to a play in several years, so this should be a fun!

This is a great way to kick off a relaxing weekend.  Hope everyone has a great one, and I’ll see you next week!

“I would like, if I may, to take you on a strange journey…”

UPDATE (9/18/11): If you’re anywhere near the San Diego area and you’re remotely interested in the Rocky Horror Picture show, go see this play!  I can’t emphasis it enough.  The guy playing Riff Raff possessed a powerhouse of a voice, Magenta and Columbia are perfectly cast, and Frank N. Furter looks surprisingly like Morressy and is a natural for the part.  And did I mention the Narrator?  This guy is something else, keeping everything together and making you laugh from start to finish.  It features a fantastic cast who really knows how to play to the audience, and even contains a new “Brad Song”.  When Karin and I went we saw people of all age groups attending, and everyone had a great time.  Do yourself a favor and see this play!

Personally, I’d love to see it one more time, and that’s coming from a straight-laced square…

I wrote about a job interview I had a few weeks ago with a tech company in San Diego. Well…after weeks of going back and forth with the Human Resources department, faxing forms, signing waivers and undergoing a background check, it seems that I got the job.

That’s right. I got the call Thursday evening!  ”Welcome aboard, Mr. HermanTurnip.  We look forward to working with you.”  Aw, yeah!

My new position is a perfect fit for me, and I can’t wait to get started.   I’ll be working with a great bunch of people in a QA environment with a bit (just a bit) less stress then my current position.  Sure…I’ll be the noob at work once again, but at least I’ll be a SQL noob

Now, to give my notice at my current place of employment. This sure is going to be an interesting / awkward Friday.  I can picture it now:  ”Hey, boss.  I’ve been offered a position at another company and I’ve decided to take it.  It’s a nice bump in pay and I think I’ll fit in quite nicely.  So…I’m giving you my two-weeks notice.  If you need me I’ll be in my cube surfing the ‘net.”

Heh…

So far this has been a horrible work week for me.  I can’t recall a worse time I’ve ever had at my job.  I’m hard pressed to even come up with one day in the past twenty years that can eclipse the absolute suck that represents the previous 72 hours of my life.

Now, this blog wasn’t designed for complaining about work, and I’m not about to subject you to that.  I mean, we’ve all had bad days at work. In all honesty I’m sure things will improve in short order, and I really don’t like to dwell on the past.  And the things rattling about in my brain are best left for a happier time when I can properly reflect on them and use them for personal growth rather than a more immediate bout of personal destruction.

I think I’ll concentrate on more calming aspects of life tonight.  I’ll be the Zen master.  The meaning between the lines.  The nugget of knowledge in a bowl full of coal.

Come with me.  Let’s fly…

When I was younger I was fearless.

I enjoyed riding my bike as fast as I could downhill and launching myself off of jumps on the edge of a canyon to see if I could make it to the other side.  I would leap off of the roof of the school at lunch with the intent of landing in the dumpster, then in the afternoon ride down the roof of my house on my skateboard. I would rock climb in the middle of the night with my best friends at Joshua Tree.  I would paddle out in the middle of a storm into a churning forest of towering fifteen foot choppy waves with the hopes of catching a quick ride back to the shore.  Without any prodding I went solo skydiving just to see what it felt like. I would slide down black diamond runs after having just learned how to snowboard. And when I was bored I’d run into Death Valley with no idea where I was going, and with nothing more than a bottle of water and some sunscreen (Devil’s Golf Course!).

I was invincible, with nerves of steel and confidence to match.

But now, with many years having stacking up between then and now, I look at something like this and I can’t help but feel a bit jealous:

Now that I’m a bit older with a career, a wife, and an amazing nine-month-old son I find myself relegated to long trail runs where help is a quick cell phone call away, and once a year I run up and down Mt. Whitney.

I no longer want to launch myself off of precarious precipeces, plunge from great heights, hurl myself out of planes, tempt broken bones or chance death by dehydration.

I now have responsibilities. I have a family to look after. I’m getting older.

And you know what? This is exactly where I want to be.