We had a backyard BBQ at our house this past weekend. There were eight adults and fourteen children under the age of thirteen. There was one bloody nose, one bloody knee, countless bug bites, one nose run-over by a wagon (yes--a different nose), more than a few meltdowns (mostly by my eldest), and one Jedi council. It was hot. Really hot. We enjoyed it and thank all who came.
I make a habit of watching Gardening in Georgia on PBS whenever I can. A few weeks ago the host, Walter Reeve, was talking with one of the many experts from UGA that he has on the show. The expert, I forget his name, remarked that gardening is a hobby of hope; people who garden have hope and continually look forward to the future. They plant now for the beauty they will see next year or even years hence. I like that.
For the tags of my last Miscellany, I whimsically added Orlando Bloom. I have received at least five hits so far from that tag.
When I first taught economics in 2001, I created an in-class stock market simulation to introduce students to the stock market. Students were assigned roles as clerks, brokers, mutual fund managers, or investors. In two or three days of class time, we simulated about three months of stock activity using random events and trends calculated on rather complex charts. I no longer use the simulation now that I use Virtual Stock Exchange, but I came across my fictional company descriptions and cannot pass up the opportunity to record them for posterity here:
Stock Market Research
Corporations
Bates Motel (BaM):
Bates Motel is a Detroit, Michigan based low cost motel chain. Founded in 1956 by Albert Hitchcock, the chain now has 243 motels in 47 states. Their motto, “Bates Motel: Where we don’t murder your budget,” was adopted by their controversial new CEO Alice “Mother” Bates. “Mother” Bates took control of the chain from her son in 1997 in a hostile inner-family feud. Since then, the company has focused on cutting costs and slashing overhead to cut the red ink on company statements. Seventeen struggling motels were closed in 1997 with another twelve getting the ax in 1998. In 1999, Bates reported their first profit in seven years though customer service complaints have risen dramatically. About half of the Bates chain is owned by franchisees, the other half controlled by the company directly. In January 2001, “Mother” Bates announced plans to expand into the Central and South American market, where, she said, “We can make a killing”. Negotiations are under way for expansion into Mexico, Brazil, Columbia, Panama, and Peru. Analysts are generally divided on future earnings potential because of the risky nature of overseas expansion.
Bevrolet Motor Company (Bev):
Bev McGee founded Bevrolet Motor Company in 1923 as manufacturer of drive trains. Bevrolet was later acquired as a subsidiary parts supplier for Chevrolet in 1956. The company broke from Chevrolet in 1972 and continued to market parts to a wide variety of companies including Honda, Subaru, Ford, Chevrolet, and Mitsubishi. In 1994 the company began automobile production with their line of Bamaros. In 1997 the company launched, with much fanfare, the Urban line of Sports Utility Vehicles. While the Bamaro line remains strong, the Urban line has failed to live up to expectations. The directors of the company continue to play up the new line of 2002 Urbans which, they say, will rewrite the book on SUVs. The company has failed to make a profit since 1993 because of the massive investment in the Barmaro line and Urban line. The parts division of the company also appears to be in trouble as many auto manufacturers do not like to buy from competitors. Mitsubishi cancelled their contract last year and Honda, Subaru, Ford and Chevrolet are considering the same measures. Analysts generally advise against buying this stock. The stock reached an all time low of $7.50 last week.
Croaka-Cola (CrC):
Invented in 1943 by California Entrepreneur Michael McGee, Croaka-Cola has slowly improved regional market share in the competitive soda industry. Dominant in the Southwest during the 1950’s, Croaka-Cola almost went under due to pressure from Pepsi. The removal of asbestos from the secret recipe of Croaka-Cola in 1963 led to its rejuvenation. Since then Michael McGee has established an unprecedented 15% share of the soda market in the South West. In 1990 the Croaka-Cola Casino opened in Las Vegas. A theme park like atmosphere and family oriented gambling have made the Casino the crown jewel of McGee’s empire. Though rumors of the company being bought out by one of the big players continued through the 90’s, the still spry at 89, McGee maintains a firm grip on the company. The company’s goals for the new millennium include nationwide expansion and national distribution of the casino’s microbrew Croaka-Beer and Croaka-Stout.
Ezzon Oil (Ez):
One of the great American oil producers, Ezzon was formed when Standard Oil Company was broken up early in the twentieth century. The company today has holding worth over $250 Billion on all seven continents. Though the company experienced severe public relation troubles following the wreck of the Ezzon tanker Baldez in 1988 and the ensuing clean up, the company has emerged with a sterling image as eco-friendly. The company continues its efforts at overseas exploration for new oil resources. Recently the company, in partnership with a Russian firm, has spent large amounts of money in the exploration of Siberia. The company continues to report big profits and most fund managers include this stock in their holdings.
MacroSoft (Ma):
This software giant, founded by nerdy genius N.O. Dates, has gained near worldwide monopoly status with the dominance of its operating system “Doors”. Dates, the richest man in the United States, has been criticized for unfair business practices and the company is presently under investigation for the violation of federal anti-trust laws. Dates continues to fight the investigation and is confident that nothing will come of it. However, US President Bill Cantax has made it his personal goal to break up the software giant. Stock prices have dropped dramatically over the past year as details of the investigation have been made public. Pre-sales of the new Doors 2-ought-2 operating system to be released in two-months have been strong.
Melta Airlines (Me):
This Atlanta based airline giant continues to find ways to make a profit while other airlines have gone bankrupt. Many point to the companies’ positive relationship with its employees and its well-timed acquisition of smaller, nearly bankrupt airlines, as the key to its success. The company is the second largest airline in the world. The present CEO Roberta Burns has been credited with the company’s success and its outstanding relationship with labor.
Nile Books and More (Nil):
This Internet book superstore has yet to show a profit though it still remains strong on Wall Street. Stock prices have consistently risen since its IPO in 1996. Analysts predict that its present dominance of Internet book sales will lead to future profits. Niles plans include expansion of their CD, DVD, Video, and Game catalog as well as potential ventures into computer sales. Some analysts warn that the stock may be overvalued and that unless the company begins showing a profit soon the stock could fail dramatically.
Pacific Steel Corp (Pac):
This storied company has somehow managed to stay afloat through the lean years of the steel market in the United States while most steel company have folded. Recently the company has been hurt by imports of cheap Korea and Russian steel. Pacific’s complaints to the government concerning the unfair business practices of the Korean and Russian steel makers have gone unanswered. Despite this Pacific remains the world’s leader in the high-grade and high-tech steels that the company has begun to focus on in recent years. PSC continues to make huge investments in Research and Development has recently announced several breakthrough methods of high-carbon steel and stainless steel production. Though still in the red the company is on solid financial ground and has recently signed contracts for several high-tech steel projects. While some analysts see the low cost of the stock as a bargain others see it as too great of risk.
Pepe Inc (Pep):
The Pepe corporation includes the Sugar High Candies division, the Big Blots chain of discount stores and the AutoMax chain of used car dealerships. The company’s diversity has proven to be both a strength and a weakness. While the company as a whole has been able to weather the bad times of one of its divisions some think that the company would be better off focusing on one thing. Recently the AutoMax chain has experienced difficulties achieving sales goals and several unprofitable locations have been liquidated. Big Blots continues its expansion and is considered the keystone of the company. Sugar High Candies, the original holding of the company continues to maintain 5% market share of candy sales nationwide.
Old Army (OA):
This peppy upstart came out of nowhere in the 90’s and quickly carved a large chunk out of teenagers’ wallets. With its mix of low overhead, low costs and stylish clothing the company has experienced unprecedented success. Profits remain strong and a new initiative of loss-prevention aims to cut losses to theft. Old Army plans on opening 53 new stores in the coming year.
Shoehorn.com (SHC):
This recent IPO has recently dropped significantly in price. The internet shoe store has experienced difficultly marketing to shoppers used to being able to try shoes on for look and fit. Return rates have been high and have bit into the small profit that Shoehorn was able to post last year. The company is presently looking for investors to shore up the shaky finances.
SuperMegaWorld Corporation International (SMW):
This massive world wide corporation presently consists of: Zabisco, a snack food maker, Tall Tower Records, Galaxy Pictures, Media Two stores, and the Dizzy World entertainment complex. The company was originally the brainchild of Walt Dizzy and the antics of his frisky rat “Ricky”. The Ricky Rat name soon became a household name after World War II and was the star of a number of animated short films. Dizzy World opened in Orlando, Alabama in 1963 and has since become the entertainment capital of the world. Since then the company has acquired its other holdings and solidified into an entertainment super giant. Success of its films and store locations have boosted profits in recent years. Rumors swirl around the filming of the massively over budget and past due “Titanic II: The Revenge”. Many fear that the first film to cost over $1 Billion could very well sink Galaxy pictures.
United Business Machines (UBM):
One of the pioneer computer manufacturers and once the bluest of the blue chips, UBM has experienced difficulty converting from a hardware manufacturer to a software developer and service oriented firm. After a massive restructuring in the 1990’s and massive layoffs in the 1980’s the company, smaller and smarter, appears poised to make big gains playing on its well-respected name. Profits, though small, have returned to the company and the stock is making a rebound.
Peace
..._
26 June 2007
23 June 2007
Georgia Carnival of Bloggers
The 12th edition of the Georgia Carnival of Bloggers is now available for your reading pleasure here. Enjoy.
Peace
..._
Peace
..._
20 June 2007
Mid-Week Miscellany: The Wiggles and Pirates, Too!
On Sunday we went to my sister's for my niece's birthday party. Since my niece finds Orlando Bloom's work in the Pirates movies to be that of a deeply talented actor, the party was pirate themed, and each child attendee received a cup of pirate loot. My six-year-old son and four-year-old had great fun with the eye patches and pirate bouncy balls. At one point my son came up with the idea of using the bouncy ball as his fake eye. He ran into the room and queried, "Do you want to see my peg eye?"
Earlier at that same party he was eating at a table full of older girls. Somehow, his elbow got wedged into the back of the chair, and he couldn't get it out. Not wanting to lose face in front of the ladies, he played it cool until his uncle walked by chair. He quietly asked if his uncle could help him because his elbow was stuck in the chair. His uncle helped him out, and the girls were never the wiser.
The twins just passed their ten month birthday. Yesterday I caught the eldest standing on his on-all-fours brother's back in an attempt to crawl onto the couch. He is becoming an accomplished escape artist, but has yet to learn that his actions have often painful consequences.
Did you see this Washinton Post piece: Va. School's No-Contact Rule Is a Touchy Subject? A couple of snippets:
All touching -- not only fighting or inappropriate touching -- is against the rules at Kilmer Middle School in Vienna. Hand-holding, handshakes and high-fives? Banned. The rule has been conveyed to students this way: "NO PHYSICAL CONTACT!!!!!"
School officials say the rule helps keep crowded hallways and lunchrooms safe and orderly, and ensures that all students are comfortable. But Hal, 13, and his parents think the school's hands-off approach goes too far, and they are lobbying for a change.
...
Deborah Hernandez, Kilmer's principal, said the rule makes sense in a school that was built for 850 students but houses 1,100. She said that students should have their personal space protected and that many lack the maturity to understand what is acceptable or welcome.
"You get into shades of gray," Hernandez said. "The kids say, 'If he can high-five, then I can do this.' "
She has seen a poke escalate into a fight and a handshake that is a gang sign. Some students -- and these are friends -- play "bloody knuckles," which involves slamming their knuckles together as hard as they can. Counselors have heard from girls who are uncomfortable hugging boys but embarrassed to tell anyone. And in a culturally diverse school, officials say, families might have different views of what is appropriate.
It isn't as if hug police patrol the Kilmer hallways, Hernandez said. Usually an askance look from a teacher or a reminder to move along is enough to stop girls who are holding hands and giggling in a huddle or a boy who pats a buddy on the back. Students won't get busted if they high-five in class after answering a difficult math problem.
Typically, she said, only repeat offenders or those breaking other rules are reprimanded. "You have to have an absolute rule with students, and wiggle room and good judgment on behalf of the staff," Hernandez said.
Schools exist to educate. Besides subject area teaching, the social education of children is one of the most important functions of schools. Children must learn to function in groups in appropriate and constructive ways. They must learn how to appropriately talk to, listen to, and, yes, touch others. Teachers and administrators must serve the central place in this development and must ensure that children to do not come to serious harm.
Frankly, this policy is a cop-out and is lazy educating. In a misguided attempt to keep students from any harm, the school has abandoned all responsibility for the development of the vital social skill of appropriate touching and has instead opted to teach that touching is wrong without considering the harm that might to done to a child who is deprived the gift of friendly touch: "Usually an askance look from a teacher or a reminder to move along is enough to stop ... a boy who pats a buddy on the back." While it is important to stop the malicious plague of boys who pat their buddies on their backs, isn't it more important to engage students in the "shades of gray" that Principal Hernandez is so loath to consider? She argues that, "You have to have an absolute rule with students," but one wonders exactly how can an absolute rule have "wiggle room" and still be absolute. Perhaps students are free to wiggle all they wish as long as they don't touch during "wiggle-time." Besides, that wiggling will most certainly be eliminated as soon as the Ritalin is added to the school water-fountains. I agree with her that "good judgment on behalf of the staff" is necessary; let us hope that the staff of Kilmer Middle School shall one day demonstrate that good judgment. Until then there will be a lot of teachers looking askance at the giggling girls and at the boys patting boys on the back.
Peace
..._
Earlier at that same party he was eating at a table full of older girls. Somehow, his elbow got wedged into the back of the chair, and he couldn't get it out. Not wanting to lose face in front of the ladies, he played it cool until his uncle walked by chair. He quietly asked if his uncle could help him because his elbow was stuck in the chair. His uncle helped him out, and the girls were never the wiser.
The twins just passed their ten month birthday. Yesterday I caught the eldest standing on his on-all-fours brother's back in an attempt to crawl onto the couch. He is becoming an accomplished escape artist, but has yet to learn that his actions have often painful consequences.
Did you see this Washinton Post piece: Va. School's No-Contact Rule Is a Touchy Subject? A couple of snippets:
All touching -- not only fighting or inappropriate touching -- is against the rules at Kilmer Middle School in Vienna. Hand-holding, handshakes and high-fives? Banned. The rule has been conveyed to students this way: "NO PHYSICAL CONTACT!!!!!"
School officials say the rule helps keep crowded hallways and lunchrooms safe and orderly, and ensures that all students are comfortable. But Hal, 13, and his parents think the school's hands-off approach goes too far, and they are lobbying for a change.
...
Deborah Hernandez, Kilmer's principal, said the rule makes sense in a school that was built for 850 students but houses 1,100. She said that students should have their personal space protected and that many lack the maturity to understand what is acceptable or welcome.
"You get into shades of gray," Hernandez said. "The kids say, 'If he can high-five, then I can do this.' "
She has seen a poke escalate into a fight and a handshake that is a gang sign. Some students -- and these are friends -- play "bloody knuckles," which involves slamming their knuckles together as hard as they can. Counselors have heard from girls who are uncomfortable hugging boys but embarrassed to tell anyone. And in a culturally diverse school, officials say, families might have different views of what is appropriate.
It isn't as if hug police patrol the Kilmer hallways, Hernandez said. Usually an askance look from a teacher or a reminder to move along is enough to stop girls who are holding hands and giggling in a huddle or a boy who pats a buddy on the back. Students won't get busted if they high-five in class after answering a difficult math problem.
Typically, she said, only repeat offenders or those breaking other rules are reprimanded. "You have to have an absolute rule with students, and wiggle room and good judgment on behalf of the staff," Hernandez said.
Schools exist to educate. Besides subject area teaching, the social education of children is one of the most important functions of schools. Children must learn to function in groups in appropriate and constructive ways. They must learn how to appropriately talk to, listen to, and, yes, touch others. Teachers and administrators must serve the central place in this development and must ensure that children to do not come to serious harm.
Frankly, this policy is a cop-out and is lazy educating. In a misguided attempt to keep students from any harm, the school has abandoned all responsibility for the development of the vital social skill of appropriate touching and has instead opted to teach that touching is wrong without considering the harm that might to done to a child who is deprived the gift of friendly touch: "Usually an askance look from a teacher or a reminder to move along is enough to stop ... a boy who pats a buddy on the back." While it is important to stop the malicious plague of boys who pat their buddies on their backs, isn't it more important to engage students in the "shades of gray" that Principal Hernandez is so loath to consider? She argues that, "You have to have an absolute rule with students," but one wonders exactly how can an absolute rule have "wiggle room" and still be absolute. Perhaps students are free to wiggle all they wish as long as they don't touch during "wiggle-time." Besides, that wiggling will most certainly be eliminated as soon as the Ritalin is added to the school water-fountains. I agree with her that "good judgment on behalf of the staff" is necessary; let us hope that the staff of Kilmer Middle School shall one day demonstrate that good judgment. Until then there will be a lot of teachers looking askance at the giggling girls and at the boys patting boys on the back.
Peace
..._
15 June 2007
14 June 2007
Camping with the Chintzibobs: How Spring Break Broke the Tent, Part II
On April 26th the Ohoopee published an article entitled: Camping with the Chintzibobs: How Spring Break Broke the Tent, Part I. Without further delay, we give you Part II.
The first day and night of my eldest son's first camping trip had been as close to perfect as possible. I met the dawn of the second day pleased that no one had been attacked by a wild animal and nothing had burned down.
The second day of camping ended up much like the first; we hiked, fished, shot each other with Nerf guns, and nibbled Pop Tarts (truly the modern equivalent of Lembas). As the perfect day wore on, a cloud hung over me (so to speak). Before leaving on our trip, I had carefully checked the weather and knew now that I was promised a 30% of showers overnight. Being a Chintzibobs, I didn't like those odds. For a camping Chintzibobs, a 30% chance roughly translates as, "Build an ark and stock it with two of every kind of Pop Tart."
Tragically, I elected to pluck the nose hairs of Zeus and stay another night.
After dinner we went for a round the lake walk. I was alarmed though not surprised to see clouds gathering. At the exact midpoint of our trek around the lake, rain began to fall. Fortunately, it was only a gentle Spring zephyr. We made it back to camp and hid away in the tent with some pretzels, Gold Fish, pen, and paper. The rain fell steadily but half-heartedly for an hour, grew bored of itself, and went away. We emerged from the tent, made a fire, roasted a large number of marshmallows, and chatted about word origins.
The boy is going through a phase of: why do they call it that? When I don't have an answer, he usually supplies his own answer. Example:
"Why do they call it fire?"
"I don't know son."
Thoughtful staring at the sparks and smoke rise into the sky.
"Maybe it is because the fire flies and you can roast things over it."
"Oh I see, fi=fly and re=roast. Could be."
"I think it is."
The boy grew quickly sleepy by the fire and surprised me by going off to bed by himself by about 8:00 pm. I spent the next few hours enjoying the cool night air, the starry night, and the dying fire. Growing sleepy myself, I got up to douse the sparkling embers with my son's carefully laid out fire extinguishers (he had spent much of the evening gathering things to help put out the fire: rocks, sticks soaked in water, sand, etc). With the steaming death throes of the fire swirling about me like a specter, I looked up for one last look at the stars. They were gone.
I couldn't see a single star. The clouds had gathered quickly. By the time I settled into my sleeping bag, the first rumbles of thunder could be heard echoing off of the mountains. I told myself that it was just big trucks on the road by the park entrance. The wind began to rise as flashes of lightening began illuminating the tent. The thunder grew less grumbly and more cracky as the storm crept nearer. The rain fell, the wind blew, and the thunder snapped. The first storm passed into a light drizzle by midnight, and I hoped it would be over. A quick check showed the tent to still be dry.
The next storm exploded upon me just as I was dozing off. The thunder was so loud that my son shot up out of his sleeping bag in fear. I turned on the flashlight and assured him that I was there and that it was just a little storm. He laid back down and pushed his hands into his ears without complaint. The wind buffeted each of the sides of the tent in turn. The storm took a deep breath and again led me to believe that the rain was finished.
The rain fell again, the thunder and lightening shattered the quiet darkness, and the wind blew harder that I thought possible without trees falling all around us. The rain and wind began to come in great waves. Checking the seams, I could see that the water was starting to come through the seams not by drips but by being blow sideways through the gaps formed whenever the wind stretched out the fabric of the tent.
When I saw that the water was beginning to puddle and flow on the floor of the tent, I began to prepare to evacuate. I dressed and began gathering anything that would be ruined by getting wet. In the middle of this, a powerful gust struck the front of the tent, and I heard a plastic crack and snap. Then the front wall of the tent began to rise up above my head as a new ceiling. I think I said something I have since come to regret. I threw myself against the front of the tent to bring it back to earth and told my son to put his shoes on. As calmly as I could, I told him that we going to get into the car because the water was getting into the tent. I held the tent open for him, shined the flashlight for him, and told him to run to the car and get into the back seat. He refused. He was probably right to do so. I gathered what I could, and we ran to the car together.
The clock on the car said that it was after 1am. My son attempted to get some sleep in the back seat. The storm continued to rattle the valley. I sat in the driver's seat and wondered if my son would ever trust me again. The tent was in ruins. He was stuck, slightly damp, sleeping in the crowded backseat of a car. I didn't sleep much.
The rain stopped some time after 4am. We both got up early and surveyed the damage. I saw now that the wind had snapped a fiberglass support and pulled the front-side stakes out of the ground. The tent had flipped over itself but was stopped from further destruction by the still-holding rear stakes.
I watched my son closely for signs of trauma. Surely after last night he would want to go home immediately and never go camping again. His vision of me as competent and near god-like would be shattered. As soon as breakfast was over, he wanted to go fishing. We went down to the lake and watched the sunrise. On the way back to the campsite, I reminded him that we were going home today. He looked at me and asked me when we could go camping again and if we could stay longer next time. I smiled and told him, "Soon son, soon."
Peace
..._
The first day and night of my eldest son's first camping trip had been as close to perfect as possible. I met the dawn of the second day pleased that no one had been attacked by a wild animal and nothing had burned down.
The second day of camping ended up much like the first; we hiked, fished, shot each other with Nerf guns, and nibbled Pop Tarts (truly the modern equivalent of Lembas). As the perfect day wore on, a cloud hung over me (so to speak). Before leaving on our trip, I had carefully checked the weather and knew now that I was promised a 30% of showers overnight. Being a Chintzibobs, I didn't like those odds. For a camping Chintzibobs, a 30% chance roughly translates as, "Build an ark and stock it with two of every kind of Pop Tart."
Tragically, I elected to pluck the nose hairs of Zeus and stay another night.
After dinner we went for a round the lake walk. I was alarmed though not surprised to see clouds gathering. At the exact midpoint of our trek around the lake, rain began to fall. Fortunately, it was only a gentle Spring zephyr. We made it back to camp and hid away in the tent with some pretzels, Gold Fish, pen, and paper. The rain fell steadily but half-heartedly for an hour, grew bored of itself, and went away. We emerged from the tent, made a fire, roasted a large number of marshmallows, and chatted about word origins.
The boy is going through a phase of: why do they call it that? When I don't have an answer, he usually supplies his own answer. Example:
"Why do they call it fire?"
"I don't know son."
Thoughtful staring at the sparks and smoke rise into the sky.
"Maybe it is because the fire flies and you can roast things over it."
"Oh I see, fi=fly and re=roast. Could be."
"I think it is."
The boy grew quickly sleepy by the fire and surprised me by going off to bed by himself by about 8:00 pm. I spent the next few hours enjoying the cool night air, the starry night, and the dying fire. Growing sleepy myself, I got up to douse the sparkling embers with my son's carefully laid out fire extinguishers (he had spent much of the evening gathering things to help put out the fire: rocks, sticks soaked in water, sand, etc). With the steaming death throes of the fire swirling about me like a specter, I looked up for one last look at the stars. They were gone.
I couldn't see a single star. The clouds had gathered quickly. By the time I settled into my sleeping bag, the first rumbles of thunder could be heard echoing off of the mountains. I told myself that it was just big trucks on the road by the park entrance. The wind began to rise as flashes of lightening began illuminating the tent. The thunder grew less grumbly and more cracky as the storm crept nearer. The rain fell, the wind blew, and the thunder snapped. The first storm passed into a light drizzle by midnight, and I hoped it would be over. A quick check showed the tent to still be dry.
The next storm exploded upon me just as I was dozing off. The thunder was so loud that my son shot up out of his sleeping bag in fear. I turned on the flashlight and assured him that I was there and that it was just a little storm. He laid back down and pushed his hands into his ears without complaint. The wind buffeted each of the sides of the tent in turn. The storm took a deep breath and again led me to believe that the rain was finished.
The rain fell again, the thunder and lightening shattered the quiet darkness, and the wind blew harder that I thought possible without trees falling all around us. The rain and wind began to come in great waves. Checking the seams, I could see that the water was starting to come through the seams not by drips but by being blow sideways through the gaps formed whenever the wind stretched out the fabric of the tent.
When I saw that the water was beginning to puddle and flow on the floor of the tent, I began to prepare to evacuate. I dressed and began gathering anything that would be ruined by getting wet. In the middle of this, a powerful gust struck the front of the tent, and I heard a plastic crack and snap. Then the front wall of the tent began to rise up above my head as a new ceiling. I think I said something I have since come to regret. I threw myself against the front of the tent to bring it back to earth and told my son to put his shoes on. As calmly as I could, I told him that we going to get into the car because the water was getting into the tent. I held the tent open for him, shined the flashlight for him, and told him to run to the car and get into the back seat. He refused. He was probably right to do so. I gathered what I could, and we ran to the car together.
The clock on the car said that it was after 1am. My son attempted to get some sleep in the back seat. The storm continued to rattle the valley. I sat in the driver's seat and wondered if my son would ever trust me again. The tent was in ruins. He was stuck, slightly damp, sleeping in the crowded backseat of a car. I didn't sleep much.
The rain stopped some time after 4am. We both got up early and surveyed the damage. I saw now that the wind had snapped a fiberglass support and pulled the front-side stakes out of the ground. The tent had flipped over itself but was stopped from further destruction by the still-holding rear stakes.
I watched my son closely for signs of trauma. Surely after last night he would want to go home immediately and never go camping again. His vision of me as competent and near god-like would be shattered. As soon as breakfast was over, he wanted to go fishing. We went down to the lake and watched the sunrise. On the way back to the campsite, I reminded him that we were going home today. He looked at me and asked me when we could go camping again and if we could stay longer next time. I smiled and told him, "Soon son, soon."
Peace
..._
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