It's Still Rock 'n' Roll To Me

Belated Easter Sunday story:

We packed into the balcony with the rest of the well-dressed, late-coming Presbyterians this past Sunday for our first-ever Easter Service at Second Presbyterian Church, our home church for over 10 years now.  While we're comfortable with the very un-Baptist, high church feel of a worship service at 2PC, on the big Christian holidays they really kick it up a notch.  Such was the case this past week.  The members were in their finest pastels and hats, and the choir was accompanied by lots of brass, strings and orchestral percussion.  It was quite the service.

For all of its atypical, over-the-top worshipness, the service did end with the traditional Presbyterian response to the benediction, the singing of the "Congregational Three-Fold Amen."  As the last "Amen" was sung and the final timpani strike made, our dear covenant child Walter, in that split second of silence following all of that beautiful racket, screamed, "Rock 'n' Roll!"

Happy (belated) Easter!  It certainly was for a couple of rows of worshipers in the balcony at Second Presbyterian last Sunday morning.

Open for Business

After allowing the concrete to set for the requisite 72 hours, the new playground was open for business today!  The kids at Peabody Elementary broke it in first and then the neighborhood under-5 set (plus a few veteran kids) showed up in the late afternoon to test it out.

Of course, the part of the playground Walt was most excited about was the stage.  When I told him that the playground was open and that we would be setting off for a first visit momentarily, he said, "Can I take my instruments?"  After being told he could, he turned and ran off to his room, saying, "I will go pack them!"

Once we got there and he had his band assembled, he stood on the stage for quite a while just screaming, "Rock and roll!" at the top of his little lungs.  That's our boy.

And just for posterity, I feel I must post the following picture, taken at the Neighborhood Church's Easter egg hunt yesterday.  Who is that handsome bunny?  Well, let's just say that I make it a practice to kiss only my husband.

I Love Cooper-Young!

Sometimes, a little community is a beautiful thing.  And today, in our little community, a beautiful thing happened indeed.  About three or four months ago, the president of our Cooper-Young Community Association, Debbie Sowell, heard about a non-profit called KaBoom! that "envisions a great place to play within walking distance of every child in America".  Debbie, knowing that our neighborhood school, Peabody Elementary, was in desperate need of a safe, new playground for the 440 preschoolers through fifth graders who attend there, rushed to cobble together an application that she and her team got in just in the nick of time.  And after just about a month of waiting, we found out that we'd gotten it!

And then the work began.  We participated in weekly planning calls, recruited volunteers, held a chili cook-off to raise our portion of the expenses, and just generally counted down the days until March 20th.  And today, it all came together in an amazing fashion.  By 8:30 a.m., the playground site was crowded with more than 200 volunteers ready to get to work.  About half were from Cooper-Young or Peabody, and the rest were sales associates from Home Depot, the corporate sponsor who helps KaBoom! build playgrounds all over the country.  (Let's just say that the next time I need some home improvement items, I will definitely not be going to Lowe's!)

I present to you the new Peabody/Cooper-Young playground . . .



I neglected to get a shot of the site before work got underway, but this was taken pretty early in the day before much work had been done.  The asphalt you see (and you're only seeing about a third of what's there), will be taken up this summer and replaced with grass.  Soccer, anyone?



This was one of our Build Captains.  (I know what you're thinking, and yes, he is a natural redhead!)

That's Josh in the foreground with a wheelbarrow full of cement to pour into the see-saw hole.

Even Shelby County Mayor AC Wharton made an appearance, proclaiming Cooper-Young "the best neighborhood in Memphis"!  Also pictured (L to R) are Robin Mayweather, PTA President, Kongsouly Jones, Peabody Principal, the aforementioned amazing Debbie Sowell, and Natalie Proffitt, KaBoom! representative extroardinaire.



Mandy and Ginger, Volunteer Recruitment Co-Chairs, at your service!



The final group shot of all the volunteers -- 200 exhausted, but happy people.

I neglected to get a final shot of the completed site, but only because Josh and I were rushing off to close on our loan.  A loan for what, you may ask?  Well, because Cooper-Young is such a great place to live, as evidenced by today's events, all the great neighborhood amenities like restaurants and shops within a few blocks of our front door, and especially our fabulous neighbors, we've decided to add on to our house and stay here for a good long while.  Construction starts tomorrow.  Stay tuned for pictures of the excavator in the backyard.



Cooper-Young can look forward to many more years of impromptu jam sessions on the Spickler front porch.

Dan the Man!

When last we left our fearless hero, he was bravely gulping down his mother's chocolate malt in a valiant effort to fortify himself for the long-anticipated Dan Zanes and Friends concert at the Germantown Performing Arts Center (GPAC for those in the know).  And when I say long-anticipated, I'm talking LONG, particularly in the life of a three-year old.  By the time the concert rolled around last Sunday, we'd had our tickets for a total of eight months.  When Josh called the box office last summer after being notified by the DZAF fan club email that tickets were now available in our area, he got a . . .

"Dan Who?"

What can we say?  We're big fans around here.  And fortunately, through a combination of hosting Dan Zanes dance parties in our living room and giving her his DVD as a Christmas present (twice, but we won't get into that), Meredith is also a huge fan.  So the Spicklers and the Lareaus loaded up the vehicles and made the long trek from Midtown to Germantown for the big show.  And let me tell you, you don't get us Midtowners to Germantown for just anything.  But for Dan Zanes, we'd have gone to the moon!  (Or at least Little Rock.)

Here the kiddos and their dads arrive in the lobby and Walt shows off his front-row, center ticket (hey, when you call eight months in advance, they don't stick you in the balcony).

Mer is on the edge of her seat waiting for the show to start!  Walt is . . . I don't know . . . apprehensive?  Probably, as he was a bit nervous that the show would be too loud.  I know, we're going to have to work on that particular hang-up if he's ever going to be a proper rock star.

And there he is!!!!  Dan Zanes!!!!  And Friends!!!!  (I probably don't have to tell you that I -- Ginger -- was just as excited, if not more so, than the kids.)

Walt and Josh join in the dance train during DZAF's performance of his hit, "Catch That Train".

Okay, try to ignore the fact that this is not the most flattering picture of either Josh or Walt and focus on the fact that they're in the same picture as Dan Zanes!  (And yes, all of these concert pics were taken with a flash, which was technically verboeten, but I just couldn't help myself.)

Of course, Walt scored a new DZAF t-shirt to add to his collection.  (Cousin Collier donated the one Walt's wearing at the concert after it was discovered that C.C. had eaten a few too many goldfish to fit into it.)  The new t-shirt is advertising Dan's forthcoming CD "Nueva York", an homage to Latin music.  You bet your sweet bippy that we'll have it on pre-order as soon as it shows up on Amazon!

A good time was had by all . . . oh yeah!!

Overheard 3/9/08

The Setting: In the car on the way to the Dan Zanes concert.  We had just stopped at Sonic for a mid-afternoon snack for Mommy and Daddy.  Walt had his requested Cheez-Its and water and seemed perfectly content.

Walt: Hey!  (Manners, manners.  We know.)

Mommy [eating her chocolate malt]:  Yes, Walt?

Walt: No.  I wasn't talking to you, Mommy.

Mommy:  Oh.

Daddy:  Yes, Walt?

Walt:  When grown-ups get ice cream, they're supposed to share it with little boys.

Needless to say, he got plenty of milkshake after that.

Bonus snow pictures left over from this past weekend:

Snow!

Ode to Balsa Wood Planes

Is there a better toy for little boys than the classic balsa wood airplane?  Somehow, by sheer luck or the unheralded foresight of Mr. Balsa, its lifespan is the exact equivalent of the attention span of any male child under the age of eight years old.  As the specimen below illustrates - it lasted approximately 3 minutes and 47 seconds - most kids have little use for an unintentionally split-winged aircraft with detached tail rudders.  So, there it lay.  Long after its pilot had retired for his FAA mandated 11 hours of rest.  Discarded and alone.  And certainly not making any return on the investment of the local State Farm agent who provided it as a gift earlier in the day.  But it had done its job.  Soaring as it did for 3 minutes and 46 seconds around the house much to the delight of both father and son.  How briefly grand you were.

Here's to you, balsa wood airplane. 

And because you didn't check this blog to read my emotional musings about a tiny wooden plane, I give you this leftover photo from our recent trip to see Cousin Collier.

More or Less

The Spickler men have long had two distinct hair styles from which to choose: short and 'just-enlisted' short.  For years, I lived on the edge by wearing mine short.  Only recently have I succumbed to the call of the #2 blade and gone 'prison chic' as a friend recently called it.  What few people know is that my hair doesn't get long; it only gets tall.  And unless you're Will Ferrell and look stunning in tight basketball shorts, that's just not good.  Walt, on the other hand, with his silky, little boy hair can go long like a champ.  So, Daddy's been guilty of a little vicarious hair styling (or lack thereof) for the past, I don't know, two years.  More recently, I've been fighting off the inevitable Mommy-escorted, cover of midday trip to the barber shop for several weeks now.  So, without further adieu,  I give you the crowning anti-establishment achievement of Walt's short life -- long, thick, in his eyes, curling on the ends, he'll-never-get-a-job-looking-like-that, mussed up, little boy hair . . . before Mommy makes him get it cut.

For perspective, I posed next to him.  Setting aside his distinct lack of a post-graduate degree, who do you think is going to get called back for a second interview?