This is Aleo's freshman year final project. Not much to say from me other than, wow! My favorite comment overheard from another is, "Who knew how photogenic the DeArmitt/Walter house could be?"
I'm also supposed to say that this is not the final-final version and there is still some fine-tuning and color-correction that is necessary. I'm confident none of us civilians will ever know the ...
Above is Alex’s second film school assignment—make a two minute silent film.
Since first seeing it, I've had multiple recurring thoughts about this 150 second video:
I'm struck by the conciseness of the storytelling. I won't say I thougth it an impossible ask but would have surely thought it an unreasonable ask were it put before me. Two minutes? What the heck am I suppposed ...
When he was in a middle school robotics competition, if someone was struggling with a challenge, they were allowed to have a teammate step in to help them. In many cases, the person called in was Alex, and when he took the controls from the rattled contestant, he would begin methodically stepping through the problem, the world around seemingly disso...
Family Scrapbook: Secret Cajun Band, the next generation (2023)
The Secret Cajun Band (SCB) is a St. Louis ska-band I became obsessed with in the 90s. Marty knew the guitar player from her high school days and asked me to go with her to a small concert they were doing. I said I didn't want to go. She said she didn't want to go alone and asked me to go as a favor. So I went, but under protest. After the first five notes from the first-ever song I heard from the ...
Best friend Mike, known around these parts as Bookpimp, recently turned 50. To mark the milestone, he had planned a gathering of his three best buds, which techinically is two best friends and a brother. The original celebration got axed by the pandemic but was salvaged in late 2022 when things started normalizing. Months before the gathering, I reached out to the other two invitees, unbeknowst to...
Aleo began his college career this Fall. Like Bella, he elected to stay local. I already talked about his unsolicited scholarship, which made his attendance in a film program at this private university possible.
Alex has been interested in video production for years. He's watched hundreds, possibly thousands, of hours of videos on the subject...
Yesterday I talked about the challenging and rewarding parts of the deck project. Today let me share the most exciting part of the build. A few years ago, Marty got me a GoPro for Christmas. It was a great gift and something I often use. I record everything from tennis matches to family dinners. A new thing I've been using it for is to make time lapses of work I do. ...
Our deck has been falling apart. Though it might be more accurate to say that our deck fell apart, and we have just been crossing the remnants of what used to be our deck. We didn't fix it earlier because we were planning on addressing it when we did our complete home renovation. The problem is that the complete home renovation's start date keeps getting pushed back, and the deck ran out of life. ...
When young, in the weeks before Christmas, after getting home from school, I would walk to the tree and scan the gift-landscape for any new additions. When found, my eyes would zero in on the tag. If it read something other than TROY, I'd give it a scowl and move on. If the festive label had the magic four letters, I'd pull it from the disarray and ha...
The above picture was taken on the first day that all three of our kids were back to school, virtually, of course. Our tradition has been to take individual photos with each child on the first day of a new school y...
Marty was running into lots of setbacks and few solutions in the early going of online teaching. Then she finally caught her first break. Many might predict the person to come to her rescue would be her husband. He has worked in the technology industry for twenty-five years, ran an online photo competition for fifteen years, and taught a uni...
When searching through my email for a work matter, I stumbled upon this forgotten diamond from a fourteen-year-old Aleo.
From: "DEARMITT, ALEXANDER"
Subject: School Thing
Date: August 29, 2017 at 10:53:38 AM CDT
To: Troy Dearmitt
Dear Troy,
This week in Soc. Stud. we have learned what it means to be human. My teacher has shown us some videos and documentary that opened my eyes up. I learned that humans are one of the only species that can have emotions. I also learned that we are one of the only species that can work together.
You have always found a way to help or fix things. You always love to help me to do technology things like learning how to code in HTML and let's face it. Mom is never going to teach me how to code or take apart laptops and try to fix them. You also are not afraid to show your feelings. Thanks for being my dad.
Yes, it may appear to have been written at academic-gunpoint, but it is still an all-net, three-pointer on this father's scorecard.
the school day was over. alex was sitting in marty's classroom waiting for her to be done so they could go home. there were a few other students in the room hanging out (yes, marty's room is a bit of a hangout room as you might guess it would be). a girl commented to another student about a creative writing group she was starting up. after a beat or two alex spoke up from his side of the room, asking about the club. marty's eyes raised looking at her son, surprised. the girl turned and brightly shared the details of the club--what they do, when they meet and the like. she said if he'd be interested he was more than welcome. he said he might be.
as we went to bed marty shared the story with me. we looked at one another a bit perplexed. i asked about the girl, wondering if that was why alex was interested. or perhaps it was the boy the girl was talking to. we didn't know. but we thought it must be one of those two things because we also didn't know our 15-year old alex had an interest in creative writing to the point of joining an after-school club to do it.
a few weeks later alex asked if he could read something to me. it was his first piece for the creative writing club. he read:
The halls were silent, almost seeming empty. The only noise was the heavy breathing of a man. He clutched his bleeding arm as he shivered, sweat pouring down his head. He flinches as a shriek comes from above, echoing through the halls. It is followed by the sound of metal against metal, colliding and grinding. The sound slowly fades into the background near the back of the facility. The man slowly makes his way out from the dark and peaks around the corner. In the adjoining hallway were corpses, their blood making the floor a dark red tint. The man looks away. A single tear runs down his face knowing his fate was as sealed as the bodies on the ground. He moves down the hall towards the flashing emergency light at the other end. A tremble runs through the entire facility. The man is sent into complete darkness. There is a flash of red as the backup generator turns on. There is a faint sound in the distance. It gets louder to the point the man needs to cover his ears. He closes his eyes and clenches his teeth. Tears roll down his face and he screams.
Then it all stops.
so maybe marty and i mis-read this situation and it wasn't the boy or the girl and our aleo would like to take a cut at some story telling. we were bound to be wrong about something one of these days ;-). i'm happy to chalk it up as yet one more happy surprise in our turn at this parenting thing. and this being his first go at this, i'm also eager to see what else might be swimming around the gelatinous folds of aleo's brain.
bella came to me while i was working at my desk, and asked me if i'd read something for her. she handed me a piece of paper that said, "Please accept this as my two-week notice and December 15th, 2017 will be my last day. Thanks! Bella."
i asked what i was looking at. bella said it was her resignation notice. i asked how she intended to deliver it. by hand? over the phone? bella said she was going to text it to her boss.
this is one of those moments as a parent where you have to catch yourself. you do this by first taking a deep breath and then, following the resultant exhalation, by saying nothing. those first things that roll across your mind's conveyer belt aren't the winners you think they are. no matter how smart or appropriate or necessary they may sound in your head. what you're looking and waiting for during this quiet breath is the realization that the only reason your child doesn't know any better or different is because you, her parent, have not yet taught them the difference. i have found in the past that i have often fumbled these moments because they come (1) frequently and (2) at inopportune times, though if you asked me when an opportune time was, it would probably take me longer to find a time to i'd call convenient than it would to just show you what i need to show you.
so here i told bella there are better ways to do this. to this she said, "but mom said it was ok". to which i said, "you showed this to mom? and she said it was good?" yep and yep. breath and silence. when dealing with spousal disconnects, there's a whole other decision tree which i will simply describe as a higher level of math and leave it at that (for now). after my breath and silence (and spousal calculus) i said "mom and i are going to have to different approaches here. while yes, you could technically send this brief message AND you could technically send it as a text and no one may bat an eye in today's white-knuckled, fast-finger society there is a better way to leave a job and this is an opportune time to practice that better way."
i talked way longer than i needed to (but this is my way and my children may worry for me if i were ever brief, so i in part do it for them). but i talked at length about the value of not burning bridges and making an impression on people, even as you are parting ways, but in short it is always about conducting yourself with class and being respectful (even when there might be angst, which was not the case here). way back when i left the bank and posted my resignation, a few people commented on it to me. so i found it (here) and shared it with bella. using that as a template she produced the following:
Donya,
Please accept this letter as my official notice of resignation from Doughocracy, effective Saturday, December 16. Working at Doughocracy for the past nine months has been an honor and has brought me great joy. I am thankful that this served as my first, official job. I have learned so much about proper work etiquette, dealing with customers, and the food industry as a whole through my work at Doughocracy. Sadly, I have stumbled across a professional opportunity elsewhere that better aligns with my priorities and busy schedule.
I appreciate the opportunity and the growth that has come from this experience. I will remember Doughocracy with nothing but fond memories. I hope for the best for Doughocracy itself, as well as you. I fully plan on stopping by now and again to enjoy the best pizza in, not only The Delmar Loop, but in Saint Louis.
Thank you,
Bella DeArmitt
my girl, as she so often does, did me proud. and she has already been offered on open-invitation in the summer when she will have more time and they will have more need.
one thing my mom definitely worked hard to teach me was just because lots of people in a society may deem something ok and acceptable does not mean it is ok and acceptable. texting a one-line resignation to your boss to quit your first long-term job squarely lands in that bucket for me. bella and i both thank you mom.
our doorbell has been busted since we bought our house. fixing it is on the list. that said, if it was in the top 1,000 things to be addressed, i'd be surprised.
the two wires that are connected to the home's doorbell system are there, sticking out of the wall and if you rub them together you can make the doorbell go off. since day one the kids have preferred sounding the doorbell this way than if there was a proper button in place. recently that has stopped working though and the doorbell seems dead as a, well, doorbell.
on a no-screens saturday and in a bout of complete and utter boredome (lucky him), anthony took it upon himself to craft a new, working doorbell which he proudly displayed for me when i returned from a morning of tennis. i tried it out and complimented him on how well it worked. this was a genuine compliment as i was pretty impressed with how stable and functional it was.
a little bit later anthony came into the bathroom while i was showering and told me he was happy with his new doorbell.
ANTHONY
yeah. i think it turned out pretty well.
TROY
i agree. super good for a V1.
ANTHONY
what's a V1?
TROY
version 1. it means it is your first attempt.
ANTHONY
what do you mean first attempt? it is done.
TROY
yes. you have a working doorbell but when you make something yourself, you will sometimes think of ways to make it better. if you think of something and then do it, then you will have V2, or version 2, which should theoretically be better than version 1.
ANTHONY
but how would i improve it? it works.
TROY
uhhhm. what would happen if it rained? is your note protected.
ANTHONY
oh. no. it isn't.
TROY
what do you think would happen to it if it rained?
ANTHONY
i think the words would blur out and it wouldn't be readable.
TROY
so, since that is outside, your design should account for that. you should think about things you could do to make it so i can last through the rain.
version 2 proved to be a marked improvement both to the doorbell and anthony as an inventor.
I am from PC to Xbox.
I am from the black controller to the keyboard
From Minecraft to Halo played with my dad
Grateful that he's taking the time,
hoping he keeps his job but always has time for me.
From the life and deaths,
From the scary games to the funny games.
I am from the musty blue couch
to the fluffy black chair next to my brother.
I am from friends, family and pictures.
From teachers to the students that work every day,
From the cuddles to the unsuspected death of my dads mom
that left me feeling empty like a dried up grape.
I am from the wooden house in the forest that we visit.
I am from the musty inside that makes me glad.
I am from my step-grandma who makes my grandpa happy.
I am from the birds chirping and the dog barking and the smell of the forest.
From grandpa to grandma that make my life complete.
I am from the feel of the grass to the hugs and kisses.
I am from the snow like fur of Gilly the silly dog that makes my family happy.
I am from Bauder and Blevins doing my best.
From the homework to school work.
I am from mathematics to science,
From fun and delightful G.A.T.E. to Spanish,
I am from the black beautiful Chromebooks ready to go.
I am from the surprises waiting at my house.
I am from Easter to birthdays,
I am from family reunions to my brother fighting viciously.
I am from presents to and from my family to the candy that will rot my teeth if I don't brush.
I am from the creamy chocolate and smells to the cold touch of it
and the sound of the it sloshing around my moist mouth.
I am from these moments, riding them like a rollercoaster,
riding all of the ups and down, and twists and turns of life.
marty walked into my office and handed me this. she then watched me as i read it. when complete i looked up at her and we just looked at each other for a few moments, both speechless. then after a few moments she said, "there's a lot packed into that young man". i could do little more than nod my head in agreement.
we have some new neighbors. they moved in about a year ago and have a young girl who just turned two. the little girl is quite awesome, in part because she thinks i'm about the coolest cat on the block and lights up a big smile every time she sees me. being a young family just getting on their feet, marty and i usually offer them kid-related things we have outgrown and are giving away. one thing we gave them shortly after they moved in was the changing table we used for all three of our kids as our humans had finally (thankfully!!!) outgrown the need for it.
a few days after christmas, marty answered a knock on the door. she opened it to find neighbor jeff there holding a cutting board. after exchanging the usual pleasantries, jeff held the cutting board forward, offering it to marty. before she could say anything he said he would like to return the changing table we gave them. taking the cutting board, marty asked what he meant. he said the drawers in the cabinet broke and while he was breaking it down he noticed the top board was a really nice block of maple, so he cut it down and made an end-grain cutting board for us using the wood from the piece of furniture all three of our children came up on.
i'm not willing to say bella's act of kindness spurred this karma on but i would be comfortable asserting that my neighbor is probably way cooler and more awesome than your neighbor.
bella believes in random acts of kindness. so much so that she occasionally, based on some regimen she follows, schedules a random act of kindness. over the christmas break this kindness was to bake a from-scratch apple pie to give to someone. she gave marty her shopping list and then with the proper ingredients in hand, bella made her pie. once done and somewhat cooled, bella donned her shoes and ...
anthony got a typewriter for his ninth birthday. occassionally you'll find a sheet of paper full of typed text laying about the house. i've learned to stop and read them as i find the open narratives of a young child fascinating. the one below i read to the end and found myself looking around, a bit more desperately than i should feel comfortable sharing, for the next page. i was riveted. granted i'm his dad and probably find it all more interesting than you will or think i should but dang, i could read this stuff all day.
If there was a patient zero, they would never be known because ninety days after the discovery, more than seventy million people were verifiably terminal. It annihilated the middle class in a single sweep. Then it ravaged the poor, the rich, and then the rest. The "first world" was extinct within five months.
below is the musical piece i'm trying to learn right now (right now in this case equalling the last year). and no, i don't know how to play the piano. this is the first song i'm learning. presently i'm up to the 45 second mark, but as you'll see that's where things get interesting.
i was making some new benches for our front porch (in part due to a new, totally sweet, dowling jig i recently bought). i was modeling them after a bench i made several years ago. between my superior skills (compared to several years back) and improved tools (uhhh, dowling jig), i considered upgrading to a higher grade of of wood. the problem point here is that it would add a fair bit of cost to the project so i wanted to make sure i could pull the benches off without any issues.
while getting things organized, i stepped out to the porch to take measurements on my existing bench. while crouched down and measuring the various parts and pieces, i noticed how the top slabs of wood, where you sit, had deep divots and mars in them from the kids various projects. the most damning of the marks came from our meat tenderizer hammer where, i recalled this day specifically, the kids went through a multi-day period of busting open acorns for sport using the medieval looking meat hammer as the pounder and my hand-made bench as the worktop. i imagined my reaction to them doing this, or any other number of their child-divined games, on high-dollar pieces of lumber versus the simple treated wood i've historically used.
then, from my crouched position, i recalled one of the first and most meaningful parental lessons i ever learned: you can love your things or you can love your children, but you can't love both.
after completing my notes, i, with nary a reservation, went and bought my low-grade planks of wood.
