The Boat & The Jedi: A Weekend in 'Bama

We are rednecks and we are nerds. Why not combine the two? Where should we go for a weekend getaway? How 'bout...Alabama!? Why, of course.

The brainstorming began when we had some friends over for a grill-out dinner. The guys were talking about boats. Guys in the South like to talk about boats--either the one they have or the one they want. It's pretty normal down here. This love of boats (and I don't mean sailboats or yachts or even cruise boats, though we'd all like those, too) might earn us the label "redneck" in other regions. Bring it on. We like boats. And beer. So they guys were talking about boats and, before I knew it, they were talking about dates to reserve a boat at Pickwick Lake. We'd bring coolers of, well, beer, and I guess some non-alcoholic bevs for the kiddos, and we'd just Be on a boat all day. Our buddy Steve actually bought a boat recently (garnering the supreme jealousy of the other guys), so he and his family would meet us down there. Four families. A lake. And beer.

The nerd part of our family comes out in the next segment of this weekend adventure plan. As an elementary school kid, I wanted to be an astronaut. Frankly, who didn't? They had the Young Astronauts Club at school and, most important, there was the classic movie Space Camp. Watched it over and over again. I recently introduced it to my kids on Family Movie Night--they were also smitten. For fun, I googled Space Camp to see how much it would cost to ship my kids there next summer. In the process, I found the Website for the Huntsville (AL) Space and Rocket Center, where I'd been as a child. And their upcoming exhibit was..get ready...Star Wars! Aw, yeah. We were 100% there. Our little Alabama weekend would be perfect. Boating on Saturday, Jedis on Sunday.

We rented a 12-man pontoon boat and a tube. Since most of our cargo would be under the age of 10, we figured we could squeeze a few extra bodies on. Initially, we had three families (6 adults and 8 kids). Coolers with the requisite beer and juice boxes and water. Sunscreen. Cameras. Stylish wide-brimmed hats. As we tried to meet up with Steve and family, we found only certain locations in the middle of the lake with cell phone reception. Finally, we reached them. Their boat had experienced technical difficulties. What's four more, huh? Awesome! So we picked up them up at another dock, two more adults and two more kids. That's 8 adults and 10 kids total. It was remarkably perfect. We'd anchor the boat and let everyone swim in the lake. We docked on the shore for a picnic lunch and more swimming. The kids took turns being pulled behind the boat in the tube. Fantastic day with fantastic friends!












We drove on to Huntsville that night and enjoyed the Space and Rocket Center, gettin' our nerd on, so to speak, on Sunday. Pictures with storm troopers, building our own droids a la RD2, a C3P0 movie, a defying-gravity ride, rockets and shuttles up close. Loved it, loved it, loved it.

Don't Cry For Me, Babylon!

Peter and I teach Kindergarten Sunday School. You never know what kind of craziness 5-and-6-year-olds are gonna throw at you. You have to be prepared to keep a straight face, to know when to stop a story that will have an untoward outcome, to know when to stop the story-telling altogether, lest the actual Bible lesson never happens.

Last week we were talking about Daniel reading the writing on the wall during King Belshazzar's party. As you may know, the writing--placed on the wall by a floating, bodyless hand (plenty freaky for our 12 boys)--predicted the outster of King B, a prophecy that came true that night. King B was killed/overthrown and a new King was in charge by morning.

"What do you mean he was overthrown?" someone asked. "Well, you know how we elect a new President sometimes? When a new President takes over in this country, the old one simply lets the new person be in charge. No one dies or fights, it's a peaceful process." They nod. "In a lot of countries, even today, when a new person wants to be in charge, he kills the current leader and the current leader's helpers and family members. Then he takes over. It gets pretty bad. We're really blessed here in the US that it's not a big fight and no one dies. So, back in Bible times, this was pretty much how new people got to be in charge--they killed the other person. That's what happened to King Belshazzar." They nod--some of them are writhing on the ground, distracted by shoelaces or a piece of hair, you know, typical Kindergarten fidgeting. Then Rebecca--our brilliant daughter--says, "You mean like in Evita!?" Peter and I--musical theater buffs that we are--beamed with pride. "Yes, Rebecca, just like in Evita!"

Broadway bridges the gaps, people. :)

Hairspray and The Balcony

The girls had been asking to go the Civil Rights Museum, located here in Memphis and built around the hotel where Martin Luther King was shot in 1968. For a couple of years, I'd been resisting, thinking they were just not ready to learn in that much detail about that struggle. There's some part of me that is thankful for the fact that, to them, people of color are just people with skin of another color. With their open hearts and open minds, they DO judge people by the content of their character rather than the color of their skin. How much is too much to teach your children about segregation, racism, hatred--and at what age? Of course, they are white, so it's easy for me to wax philosophical about how it seems like things are sweet and innocent for them. My friends who are African-American have told me stories that would curl your hair about the racism their children experience, however subtle. But I CAN tell you with certainty that my children are not being raised to treat anyone differently because of color. And I think that color blindness was something I wanted to protect.

It seems crazy but the ultimate decision-maker here was "Hairspray." A movie, then a Broadway musical, then a remake of the movie, Hairspray takes place in Baltimore in the early 1960s. A heavy-set white girl who loves to dance wins a spot on an American Bandstand-meets-Mickey Mouse Club-style show and decides to fight to integrate the show. Until then, the wholesome-appearing white kids danced most of the time and once a month, the black kids danced on "Negro Day." Tracy, who faces plenty of hatred herself for being chubby, vows to integrate, and is even arrested, all with the cheery numbers you'd expect from a Broadway musical. The girls have seen the remake at least a dozen times and we recently saw an incredible production of the musical at a local professional community theater. We talked about integration, the word "Negro," prejudice. And they asked again to go to the Civil Rights Museum. I finally relented.

At the museum, we started with the film, "The Witness," which is the story of the sanitation workers' strike as told by the Rev Billy Kyles, one of King's best friends, who was intimately involved in the strike and in the Memphis visit--and one of the men on the balcony with King when he was shot. The footage was real and vivid. The girls were sad--and confused: Why were the police beating people up? I thought police were the good guys. Why did they spray that little girl in the eyes? That man is bleeding--did he die? They were mesmerized as they listened to the Mountaintop speech, which King delivered the night before he was killed, and understood the Biblical references from that speech. As we left the film room, they were quiet.

But the quiet didn't last. Soon, they launched into a flood of questions. Prompted by the exhibits, we talked about the KKK, about Brown v Board of Ed, about Rosa Parks, about George Wallace, about Selma and Birmingham and jails and separate restrooms and lunch counters and freedom rides. We listened to songs sung in marches and read the nonviolence pacts that participants signed when going to sit-ins. We all cried a little when we passed the balcony. Molly sighed as we left, "I just don't understand why people acted like that to other people."

I'm glad I took them, but part of me still thinks I contributed to innocence lost by doing so. Maybe they're too young. But maybe, just maybe, if they see or hear racism, however subtle, they will speak up--because they've seen where we came from and can see how far we've come. And perhaps they can do their part to ensure we keep going forward.

Yankee Doodle Dandy

Celebrating America's birthday with the Walshes, the Marshes-from-two-blocks-away, the Dixons (Pete's sister Jen, her hubby Rob and cousin Travis) from Oregon and the Reeds (Pete's Uncle John and Aunt Barbara plus their granddaughter Nyla) from Dyersburg, TN. Two days prior, it was Matt's b-day, so he got an American flag cake and two pretty little girls to share his lap. A cookout, a little swimmin' in the kiddie pool, fireworks--which we can legally enjoy since we live in the county!

Oregonians In Da House!

Peter's sister Jennifer, her fab husband Rob and their amazing son Travis graced us with their presence in early July. They stayed through July 5 (see next post for July 4th pics!) and we all had a blast! We went to the Splash Park & a Redbirds baseball game downtown. We ate barbecue and grilled out at home. The cousins played in the treehouse and the kiddie pool, with light sabers and puppets. Can't wait for our next visit together!

If You Can't Stand the Heat, Repaint the Kitchen!

It's amazing what a coat or two of paint can do. We added some decorative items above the cabinets ("merchandising") as well. We love it!