GRANDPARENTS DAY IN THE SHADOW OF 9/11

Here in the U.S., Grandparents Day is celebrated on the second Sunday in September.  This year it unfortunately coincided with the 10th anniversary of the September 11th terrorist attacks.  I purposely didn't write a blog post about September 11th, my own experience of seeing it unfold on television while at home with my small son mirrors the experiences of so many others.  That's not to say it wasn't on my mind.  For anybody over the age of 17, it's a profound, lifelong memory.  On the way to Grandma's yesterday, I mentioned to the kids that it was the anniversary.  The Professor said, "Oh, yeah.  I almost forgot about that."  (He was a mere two years old on the day and remembers nothing first-hand.)  Then he thought for a minute and said, "But it's also Grandparents Day.  Shouldn't we try to forget about 9/11 and just focus on Grandma?"  He was right.  Never should the people who died on 9/11 be forgotten.  At the same time, though, the biggest lesson I came away with that day was you never know what's gonna hit you tomorrow.  Try to enjoy today.

With that attitude, we had a steak lunch at Grandma's, followed by a rich chocolate chess pie.  We then presented the gifts.  Since her birthday is at the end of September, we keep the Grandparents Day gifts small.  (In my family, any occasion tends to be used as an excuse to give elaborate presents.)  My own gift was a photo mug, a collage of memories of the kids from the past year.  A mug has been my traditional gift since Josh's first Grandparents Day in 1999 and this 13th mug will join the others in a place of honor in Grandma's sewing room.  The Professor and I went to Hobby Lobby last week, where he debated the merits of an art deco hand mirror, an antique-looking magnifying glass, and an atomizer before deciding on two small rhinestone-encrusted frames which I filled with freshly snapped photos.

Foghorn's gifts are a little harder to explain.  Saturday night she had decided she wanted to earn money for a second Figit Friend.  It's known around here that extra chores can be done for cash, but Foghorn always finds the idea of manual labor a little too exhausting.  Instead she arrived at the couch (where I had been lounging all day, sick as a dog with some unknown ailment) with a lovely picture of a mermaid.  She asked if I wanted to buy it and I said certainly, to which she snapped, "That'll be 10 dollars!"  What?!?  I steadfastly refused and said I'd give her a dollar.  That lead to a shrieking fit that went on for half an hour during which I was accused of thinking she was a terrible artist and that I liked the Professor better than her (even though I never paid $10 for a picture of his either).

The Vulcan emerged from his cave office at one point to quiet her down and even offered $2, but she wouldn't go lower than $7.  And she made that loudly and ferociously clear.  At one point she sat with a pair of scissors in her hand and the picture held before her, ominously saying, "If you don't think I'm a good artist I might as well cut it up!"  I pulled the blanket over my head and refused to play her game anymore.  After about 20 minutes she stomped in saying, "I'll sell it to you for $1."  I agreed and was handed a thoroughly wrinkled mermaid picture.  "What the hell happened to this?", I squealed.  "I crumpled it up.  I figured if it wasn't worth $7 I might as well destroy it."  Jokingly I thrust it back at her saying, "Well, I don't want it if it looks like this..."  Her eyes started to well with tears and I quickly assured her I was kidding and produced a dollar.  I didn't need another hissy fit.

Her mania for money probably explains Grandma's gifts.  The first was ordinary enough -- a picture of Grandma's dog, Rusty, colored from an image put through Crayola.com's "Lights, Camera, Color!" program.  The other gifts...well...  One was a picture to "My Perfect Grandma" and depicted Foghorn (stretching about 6 feet tall) and Grandma (dressed as a princess).  The other was a pop-up card, with Grandma's three-dimensional form on the outside and "The Best Cook" inside.   These would have been heart-warming if Foghorn hadn't written "Price:  10 dollars" on each.

We finished up with an outing to the Old West Festival in Williamsburg.  Grandma, I salute you for being a great cook, a wonderful grandmother, and the only person who can spend a day with my kids and still be cheerful at the end.







If you'd like to read about our excursion to the Old West Festival, please check out:

*  THINGS TO DO IN CINCINNATI -- OLD WEST FESTIVAL


    

THINGS TO DO IN CINCINNATI -- OLD WEST FESTIVAL

With the weather clear and warm, Grandma, Chester, The Inmates, and I decided to venture to Williamsburg, Ohio, about 30 miles east of downtown Cincinnati, for their Old West Festival.  Tucked away on a narrow road on dozens of acres of undeveloped land sits a Dodge City replica, complete with boardwalk, saloon, shops, and hitching posts.  There are regularly scheduled gunfight reenactments in the street, as well as a variety of shows throughout the complex including a medicine show, cowboy poetry, puppet show, and sing-along.  Standard county fair-type food is available like hot dogs, steakburgers, and rattlesnake chili.  What we had was reasonably priced at $2 for a hot dog, the same for a bottle of water, and $1.50 for a small Pepi.

Both Inmates enjoyed a horse ride, particularly The Professor who long ago grew too tall for the pony rides and has missed the contact with horseflesh.  (We have a history with horses in my family, which you can read about at Uncle Chester's blog here.)  Horse rides were $5 per kid and included two loops around the track.

The Professor also tried his hand at the bow and arrows for $2.  I had warned him it was harder than it looked, particularly with a bow that was half his height.  The guy running the booth was very patient with him, though, and took the time to show him over and over how to hold it without dropping the arrow.  While his aim was off, The Professor finally managed to shoot his three arrows at least toward the target, if not actually hitting it.

About a dozen vendors were scattered around selling everything from boots and handmade jewelry to animal pelts and genuine claws.  (I have a serious aversion to fur not still attached to a live animal, so I made a quick exit from that particular tent.)  One store sold your old time "cowboys and Indians" props.  The Professor emerged with a Derringer cap pistol (which he used to shoot things all the way home, despite our repeated warnings not to, including the produce of a farmer's market stand).  Foghorn chose a stunning headdress with pink faux fur and pink and white feathers.  Chester said she looked like she should be on Fire Island.

What The Warden had most been looking forward to was sending her children to jail.  For $5 the Sheriff would arrest the person of your choice, toss her in jail, and send you home with a keepsake warrant.  The Professor's eyes lit up at the thought of locking his little sister in there (not realizing I had intended to have them both incarcerated).  Foghorn played it off like I was joking when I said I'd have her arrested, but I could see fear in her eyes.  Despite her booming voice and over-the-top personality, she's actually rather timid around strangers, especially men, and I could just seeing her going into a hysterical crying fit when she landed in the pokey.

There are bathroom facilities on the premises, but I'll give you fair warning that you might want to do what you can to avoid them.  Foghorn never makes it more than two hours without a bathroom stop and I thought it might not be too bad, given that the toilets were located in a long trailer and had several stalls to accommodate multiple people at once.  I knew I was in trouble when a girl in 1800s garb stepped out, exhaled deeply, and said, "I won't be drinking any more water today."  It was pretty bad and when I related the story everyone else vowed to hold it and run in the first McDonald's we passed on the way home.

The Old West Festival runs Saturdays and Sundays, now through October 9th, from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m.  Admission is $10 for adults, $6 for children, with free parking.  We had a couple coupons clipped from Reach Magazine, which got the kids in free.  I have to say I would not have wanted to pay full price for all of us.  If you're interested in going, I highly recommend checking Reach Magazine or ereach.com (the latter requires registration in order to print the coupons).  Donato's also has a deal going to benefit the charity A Kid Again.  At any Cincinnati Donato's location you can purchase a booklet for $1 that contains four free children's admissions with one adult paid admission, plus one free individual one-topping pizza coupon.

Information, including directions, can be found at the Old West Festival's site here.  Be forewarned that both parking and Dodge City are on unpaved ground.  The soaking rains of last week had dried up just enough to make walking around bearable, but if you're going right after a recent downpour be sure to wear old shoes or boots and prepare for swampy, muddy conditions.



You might also be interested in:

* The Loveland Bike Trail.

* Meet the Inmates -- The Professor.

*  Meet the Inmates -- Foghorn.