a new TROYSCRIPT was posted today. rockwell christmas

with permission, i share a portion of marty's reply to yesterday's post. you only get some of it because parts of the message made even me blush.


this worked out well since when we met i was driving a 1976 volvo station wagon and living in the basement of a friend's family home, time was just about the only asset i had to give to anyone.

and, in the name of comprehensiveness, the culminating moment.

a new TROYSCRIPT was posted today. me-minus

this quote from bella quickly illustrates the downsides of having, aside from including a sprawling map of the world, a transparent shower curtain. our last shower curtain, which also possessed a clear background, portrayed the periodic elements (in honor of marty's return to teaching high school biology) which shielded, i'm told, much more of the human body from the occassional passerby.

during thanksgiving week the nfl ran videos of players and coaches saying what they were thankful for. most of them included the player's family and had the expected and tired phrases. after watching a few i tended to fast forward through them but one caught my eye. first off it was an older guy sitting alone. as i slowed it down i saw it was dick lebau, the famed and long-time defensive coordinator of my pittsburgh steelers. he is 76 years old has been involved in the nfl for more than fifty years and is said to have the crisp mind and vigor of men half his age. i've only ever seen him pacing the sidelines with a intent look on his face and had never heard him speak. in this video he addressed the camera in a measured and methodical drawl, answering the question of what he was thankful for: the commentators, al michaels and chris collinsworth, on returning from the break commented on his spot. during this al michaels mentioned lebau's golf game and the advice he routinely offered, also in that quiet, easy tone: i find a simple beauty to this and reckon it, like all the best bits of counsel, could be applied to numerous facets of life.

i have a rule with my children that the first thing they say to me in a new day cannot be a request for something.

this results with them sometimes saying things like:

"did you sleep well dad? great. can you help me with my homework?"

or

"you look handsome today dad. can you log me on so i can check my mail?"

the other morning, the first thing anthony said to me, as he brought me from sleep was, "dad, you have a lot of hair in your nose".

i might need to extend the ban to include comments that make my first act of the day be studying my aging body, super-up-close, in the mirror.

last friday morning i woke extra early, like in the five o'clock hour. i went through my morning routines which ended with a bike ride (e.g. spinning on a trainer in the basement that is). as i logged my exercise results from the handlebar computer, i paused when i scrawled the date out in my notepad. 1/10/14. january tenth marks the date of my first date with marty as well as our wedding day. some quick math told me we had just crested our 24th year together.

knowing marty should be awake by now, i kept an eye out for her as i passed through the kitchen and then upstairs. i didn't see her in the bathroom, the nest (our bedroom), or the ping-pong room. then as i walked down the hall, i noticed movement in the boys room. i looked through their door and saw a bluish light coming from their closet. in peering through the two swinging doors i found my wife inside the space. she stood in front of her wall of clothes (yes, our clothes closet is in the boys room -- remember, we sleep in something called the nest which barely accommodates our bed let alone a closet). clad in a pair of kooky, patterned tights she got for christmas, a bra and a damp head of hair, she scanned her clothing options using a lego-man flashlight whose feet cast a dim blue light upon her choices (the blue light surely wreaking havoc with the true color of each garment). as she sensed my approach she turned her head grinning at being caught in such a curious moment. i kissed her shoulder and wished her happy anniversary. she smiled bigger and said, "yes. you too." i told her i never imagined twenty-four years after our first date to find us standing in a closet, lit only by a toy flashlight, her in funny tights and wet from a shower and me in biking bibs and wet from exercise trying to be quiet as to not wake any of our three children, two of which were sleeping just on the other side of the door. her smile widened perceptibly as she agreed to the sentiment. and with nary more than that, we acknowledged another shared year.

and, the saying "you just can't make this stuff up" continues to show itself to me as one of life's greatest truisms.

mr jason kottke, my digital-hero, recently wrote an article about the death of the blog. the subject obviously caught my eye and i quickly clicked through. as i read i felt more old and more out of touch until i came to the line that read: and i instantly went from feeling totally disconnected to being exactly right where i'm supposed to be. and i can for sure count on one hand the number of times that has happened in my life.

i walked through the ping pong room on a saturday morning to find anthony leaning back on the futon playing a DS while a movie played on a laptop in front of him and a bowl of popcorn sat next to him which he'd reach into for a fresh mouthful when his game didn't require both hands. bella sat on the other side of the room, using marty's computer. the scene produced the following exchange:

TROY
hey anfer. nice juggling work there. most impressive.

BELLA (the quoted part being done in an exaggeratedly deep-dad voice)
WHAT!?! why when i do that, you yell at me and when he does it you tell him 'most impressive'?

TROY
because one of the things he's doing isn't his homework.

BELLA
oh. yeah. that.

a new TROYSCRIPT was posted today. house rules

we recently learned that one of bella's dogs (from her dog-sitting business) had taken ill, ill to the point that the vets told the family they probably had a week left with him before it would become unbearable for all concerned. of all the dogs bella has cared for this one, Guinness, held the top-spot with our family. whenever bella watched Guinness he would stay at our house, sometimes for weeks at a time, sleeping in our beds, walking laps around our dinner table and standing guard at the french door windows for joggers and dog walkers.

marty and i held off telling the kids as long as able due of the holiday break but given the short window we had to work with—as we had to go down to say our goodbyes—we called the kids down to the living room just days before christmas and explained the situation. bella was, predictably, leveled by the news. marty held bella's quaking frame, tears streaming down her own face at seeing her daughter rocked so. i sat with alex who leaned into me silent and staring. we hushed anthony's questions telling him we'd explain better later.

alex and i then left for a lunch we had planned, leaving marty still holding a now quiet isabella. after a few silent miles in the car, i asked my ten year old how he felt. following a longish pause he softly said, "i think i'm a little bit devastated."

if there is one who makes the most of his words in our family, the safe and accurate bet would point to alex.

i will bet you a boat-load of money this phrase, casually uttered to me by a twelve-year old bella while walking to the bus stop, did not pass before you in 2013, any year prior, or any future year you may be fortunate enough to enjoy.

i'm tempted to let the quote stand on its own without explanation just to let your mind dash madly from scenario to scenario, opening doors and looking behind boxes in search of the event that would lead to such a statement. i imagine the wayward paths your mind might travel down, the stories unfolding with the exciting unusualness of a tarantino narrative would be far better than the actual context, and marty swears there's always context.

i'm equally tempted to explain what led to the exchange because i like you and even if i didn't like you a whole lot, well, i'm not a complete ass-face. not most-times at least.

when i'm torn between two viable options i tend, like most reasoned folks, to act conservatively which in this case is to let your minds imagine how such a moment could develop between a mother and daughter. this path can be reversed, the other path cannot.

oh, and, happy new year. i'm infinitely thankful and excited to be sharing this shiny fresh-out-of-the-box year full of minutes and potential with you. in fact, i'm bristling just like alex did before falling to sleep the night before christmas.