Johnny come lately...

It may surprise some of you to hear it, but I am often shy. I know, I know... Good ol' Ramblin' Rover? Shy? Ah, but you didn't know me when...

As a chubby young lad with no social skills, making friends was tough. I'm so ridiculously self conscious. The way I look, stand, walk, sound... Every time I enter a new scene I am taken back to those early years when I wasn't as confident. And the calm, steadfast fellow you know and love dwindles back to the geeky fat kid who scurried from class to class because the hallways of school were too awkward to endure for any more time than absolutely necessary.

Today, I left the house alone. Save a foray to the grocery store, this was my first outing in Kalamazoo. You see, the American Homebrewers Association was hosting a gathering at Bell's Brewery, featuring Charlie Papazian. Needless to say, I was eager to see him. I considered even speaking to him, but that was when I imagined a dozen guys at the brewpub.

Try about 150. Bell's brewery is great. It was a hippie friendly environment with decent food and phenomenal beer (a hand-pulled porter tapped for the occasion was my favorite). I did see Papazian, and got to hear his rousing speech to the mass of Western Michiganders who had left their mash tuns and ventured out to hear him. But it was clear I was the only person who arrived at the bar alone, and who knew nobody.

Come on, Rover! Go Big!! Dive in with gregarious handshakes and calm smiles. You know how to do this. You teach people to do this!! But not today, I guess. Despite Old Crow Medicine Show playing on the sound system, and a second beer (this one a spiced stout), I couldn't step up. It just wasn't in me. I came home to regroup before Dr. Wife's department picnic this evening.

I did better there, I suppose. Dr. Wife is a sucker for trampolines, and so left to join the kids for quite some time. I managed some small talk, and hopefully didn't embarrass her in front of new supervisors and colleagues. I was relieved when the mosquitoes indicated that bedtime had arrived for the munchkin.

Strange, eh? Play bass in front of a crowd? No problem. Present to a hundred? Game on. Deliver a speech to 2000? Ok. But meet new people?

Maybe tomorrow I'll try again.

Kalamazoo

Our stay in KC was just long enough to see my folks and have to hide under some stairs from a tornado. The brief stay in Ankany, Iowa was delightful and without trouble. All that remained from there was to drive 9 hours through Chicago to Kalamazoo.

Oh, Chicago, how you taunt me with your delicious food and rich culture, only to turn on me and shut down a major highway, leaving me sitting still on I-80 for 3 hours, only to reroute me in the wrong direction for another 2 hours!

Doing the math, you can see that we did not make it to our apartment in time, nor was I able to get my truck as expected. Instead, we spent a night at a hotel.

Despite that, we are now into our apartment. It is so full of boxes we can't walk. It is insane how much crap we have. It will take me a week to unpack, even working 12 hours a day.

First class...

Yesterday, all of our worldly possessions (including, I hope, my sunglasses) were loaded onto a truck. We cleaned the apartment better than anyone ever has, and began our trek to Michigan. We spent our last night in San Antonio with our dear friend, where I discovered that Dr. Wife is addicted to rock band for wii. An inner rock star peeked out, and it was vicious.
Now, we are rolling along northbound with her royal neverpoopness issuing commands for new entertainment. We will keep you posted.

Testing...

This is a test of the mobile blogger system. Had this been an actual post it would have contained something other than a picture of me having a back spasm while packing.

Mobile

Father Daddy, I have questions...

One of the quirks of our household is that I don't attend church. Not my thing, not going to delve into it here. But Dr. Wife takes Miss Neverpoop, well, religiously every Sunday. So the theological questions pop up from time to time. I usually let Dr. Wife handle these; she's much more educated on these matters.

However, once in a while I get cornered, as on the way to preschool today.

Daughter: "When are we going to die?"

It is amazing how quickly the morning fog can be burned away...

Me: "Not for a long, long time, honey."
Daughter: "I want to see how it happens. Does God live underground?"
Me: "Well, many people believe God lives everywhere, all around us."
Daughter: "Then how will we see him when we get buried?"

A previous drive past a cemetery with another awkward conversation sprang to mind...

Me: "Well, our bodies get buried, but the part that thinks and feels gets to go to heaven."
Daughter: "Where is heaven?"
Me: "I'm not sure how to answer that... it isn't a place that we can see or get to while we are alive."
Daughter: "How big are clouds?"
Me: "Ginormous." Finally, my sort of question. "Bigger than buildings and airplanes and houses."
Daughter: "Weoo, that's reaaaally big. They had better be careful up there."