a very fun television debut!

the boys goofing around before they go live

Nick Salvucci, aka my "in" (on the left, not sitting), explaining how all that computer/sound equipment works

Port City Live anchor Matt Bise multitasking with the boys watching

Matt Bise is really funny - and he was so good in his interaction with the boys

tune in tomorrow

Mac is joining his fellow Tiger Cub Scouts for a tour of a local tv studio tomorrow. It's run by one of those big, humongo churches here and hasn't been picked up by many of the local cable companies. I had a small "in" with a news producer there because they did a piece on the corn maze last fall. I have so few "ins" that I felt empowered making the connection for this visit.

Today I bought my "in" an assortment of Ghirardelli chocolate bars as a thank you. But I am now eating one of them. I decided I needed it more that he would miss something that he didn't even know he was getting. I'll just have to put more tissue paper in the gift bag.

This chance to appear on live tv makes me hope that Mac won't be given the opportunity to speak. It's sort of like the feeling I have when we go to my mom's church and I know Mac will go to the children's sermon at the front of the church. I've learned to make him promise that he'll keep his mouth shut because he has been known to talk on and on and there is potential to say something that will embarrass all of us.

It also reminds me of the time that my sister got to go on the long-defunct local children's show, Happy Rain, as part of a birthday party. Happy Rain was a non-native American woman who dressed up in very stereotypical native American clothing and had a children's variety-type show. She would not be very PC by today's standards, I'm afraid, but she was a not-to-be-missed event when we were kids. The show must have been live because I distinctly remember watching it while my sister was away at the taping. When it was her turn to talk, Happy Rain asked her about herself, and she said she lived on a farm. Happy Rain asked her if she had horses and she said she did.

We sat at home, speechless.

We never had horses, even though I begged for a horse.

Happy Rain asked her the name of the horse, and I can't remember what she answered, but she told Happy Rain the name of the horse that allegedly lived on our farm. It was something like Star or Black Beauty or some other children's novel sort of horse name.

We sat at home, speechless.

Not only did we not have a horse, but we certainly didn't have a name picked out for an imaginary horse.

I'm sure she just froze at the moment. She knew the truth, but she also knew what Happy Rain thought the answer was supposed to be. Happy Rain wanted her to have a horse on her farm because for crying out loud, if Happy Rain had had a farm, wearing her headdress and leather beaded dress and braided hair, she would have surely had a horse named Star or Black Beauty.

And what a conversation killer if my sister had answered truthfully.

HR: "So, do you have horses on your farm?"
Sister: "No."
HR: "Alright, let's move on to the next little girl."

I mean, really. Where do you go from there?

And this is my fear with Mac. He does love to talk and he finds himself extraordinarily interesting. If given the chance, he could go on and on for hours with this host. So that's why I hope they tiger cubs are seen and not heard so much!

If you're bored silly beyond all belief or you just want to see the cutest 7 year-old in the whole entire world (or at least my whole entire world), you can see Mac LIVE on the 6pm show tomorrow night on WLCN (either on cable network Knology or at http://www.wlcntv.com/ and then click on the Watch Live button.)

we are the champions

I am claiming moral victory right now over Cub Scout Pack 843 for two little, shiny, fake brass reasons. May I present you Exhibit A and Exhibit B?


This afternoon, Pack 843 held their Pinewood Derby, an annual event in scouting where scouts come together to race wooden cars of their own design. Some months ahead of time, you get a box that contains a block of wood, 4 wheels, nails to hold the wheels in and some number stickers. I asked if a woodworking professional came with the package, but doing your own woodworking is apparently part of "the fun".

I took woodworking with Mr. Howard in middle school and although I loved that man, woodworking was not my forte. The only thing I really remember from his class is that you shouldn't put your fingers in the path of the instrument that cuts wood.

But not to worry, according to these men who run the scout pack. There would be several opportunities to work on the car with qualified people who own and operate woodworking equipment.

Mac and I went to the December pack meeting where the aforementioned woodworking would happen and there was a scheduling conflict with the facility so no meeting and therefore no woodworking occurred. I pull the "helpless female with a husband in Afghanistan" routine when necessary and the pinewood derby seemed cause enough to invoke the helpless female routine. These scout leaders assured me that there was no need to worry; there would be another opportunity in January and they would not let me flounder.

Right.

No meeting was ever scheduled and quite frankly, I just hoped the pinewood derby had been forgotten by everybody and we just wouldn't have to do this thing. But then a pack meeting was scheduled for late January, again with the idea that everybody could work on their cars together. One other mother and I showed up along with all these dads. And nobody would help us. They kept saying they'd help us and after Mac and the other boy drew their design on the block of wood (per the men's instructions) and went to have help in cutting it out (part B of the men's instructions), everybody was suddenly busy. So we patiently waited until we ran out of patience and then we took matters into our own hands. The other mom has a friend who's a professional woodworker. She called him and he said he loved doing pinewood derby cars but his children were past that stage and he'd be happy to help us.

So we went over in early February and he cut out the designs that boys had drawn on some woodworking equipment that could have cut off my arm. Then the boys got to sand, paint and decorate their cars.

I didn't think Mac's car stood a chance when I saw some of the other cars. They were sleek, aerodynamic numbers. Sort of Ferrari-esque things compared to something more akin to your grandmother's Buick. They had high-gloss paint jobs whereas Mac's had stickers that buckled and bumped because we didn't know we needed to sand off the first layer of paint after the wood had expanded (or something like that).

But I'll be really honest with you. I really, really wanted Mac's car to win because of the lack of help we got. Those men told us to just order precut cars off the internet and race those, so we "helpless, little ladies" (my words, not theirs) wouldn't have to worry about cutting the car out. Wasn't the designing and cutting out part of the fun, though? You know the saying about a woman scorned? Well I wanted victory and by golly, sweet victory is mine (and Mac's, of course). He was thrilled with his trophies; he is his father's son and they do love to win. I just needed the moral victory. We are all winners at Casa Story today.

P.S. The boy we worked with won second place for Tiger Cubs, so it was a doubly sweet victory for his mom and me!

Tiger Cub Safari

Last Saturday was the big day for Mac and the Tiger Cubs. Thank the Lord Jimmy was home because I would have been way out of my element (not to mention being one of probably 2 women had I gone).

I'll let the photos speak for the fun that was had!

First of all, note that Mac is listening to this guy talk about BB guns with rapt attention (mouth is hanging open). Secondly, contemplate why this guy is wearing an alligator hat. Fashion statement? Cub Scout humor? Your guess is as good as mine.

Check out that posture!

Finally. A new use for holey socks! Now we all need to take up archery at Casa Story to take care of all those socks!
Notice the patches are still hanging on. Possibly for dear life, but still hanging on.

Happiness is...

cub scouts or bust, part two

Why do I even bother to try to be a perfectionist?

Half the boys didn't even have uniforms yet, another quarter of them had uniforms with some or none of the patches sewn on yet, and the other quarter had all the required patches. Glad I only tacked them on, though, because I see some room for placement improvement!

Jimmy comes homes next week for his first R&R and he will arrive just in time for the first Scouting adventure. It's some sort of non-me-sounding all-day activity that includes learning camping skills, camp and fire safety, nature skills, swimming, BB gun shooting, archery, sports and games. On second thought, maybe I should go because I could learn a lot!

cub scouts or bust

If I'd known how hard it would be to sew those blasted patches onto the Tiger Cub uniform, I would've never taken Mac to the registration meeting in the first place.

Sewing them on late last night gave me an idea for an easy business. When Mac and I went to the Boy Scout store on Monday afternoon, there were 3 families in there shopping for uniforms and all the accoutrements that go with the uniform, like the blasted patches. So why not set up a sewing machine on a card table right outside the Boy Scout store and offer to sew on patches for a fee?? I would have paid handsomely for somebody to sew them on Monday and I probably would've given a kidney last night.

As it stands now, I have only tacked them on at various spots around the edges. I sold my sewing machine in Brazil and didn't plan far enough ahead to have Bubby stitch these on with her machine. So it was me, some clear thread, and a needle that eventually bent because it was so hard to get through some of the patches.

I've told Mac not to pull on the patches today because they will come off with insubstantial force and he might be left with holes in shirt. I intend to enlist Bubby's help ASAP!