Blue Moon Dinner

Tonight we have a blue moon, the second full moon this month. We happened to be making blueberry buttermilk biscuits for Martin to take to work tomorrow (his company is having a Texas barbeque for lunch, and we were assigned these biscuits and pinto beans), and when we ran out of time to make dinner, we turned our poor planning into a themed dinner: blue moon dinner. Blueberry Biscuits, Blueberry Pancakes (leftover from this morning), Blueberries (just purchased today at the grocery). Unfortunately, the drink was orange, so it threw off the whole thing, but later I remembered we had grape juice. Blast! :) Oh well, next time we have a blue moon, I'll be ready.

Go, Kids, Go!

We were on the go much of the weekend, having lots of fun. Martin was home from work early on Friday, so we went for dinner at Caliente, a new restaurant in the neighborhood that we have wanted to try. It was really good, much better than we even expected, although it had gotten good reviews. The owner was there and recognized that we had been trying to come (they were closed every time we came by before), and he brought us out a complimentary appetizer, a spinach and cactus quesidilla, and it was delicious! The boys had the most decadent piece of chocolate cake for dessert, so they were happy.



On Saturday, Haas Park has its grand opening party, with hot dogs and popcorn and drinks for the neighborhood. Kids were running in the fountain and playing on all the equipment. It's great to have a new park in the 'hood.

And that evening, we went to Ryerson Woods, for an event held by the Adler Planetarium. We had never been out there, and it was well worth the trip. We will absolutely go back. The first part of the evening was a bird walk, where we walked through the land with a few guides and looked for birds. We went with our friend Rocco (and his sister Skylar, mom Andrea). Rocco is a bird lover, and he was equipped with his bird call and binoculars. We saw a Scarlet Tanager, which is apparently not a common sighting. Rocco was so excited to have seen it. Max was frustrated because he couldn't really see anything through our binoculars, and I completely understood what it felt like for everyone around to be so excited to see something and you just can't see it, like when you really want to get the joke, but you just don't. Until that moment when you understand or see, it is just so unpleasant. Unfortunately, he never saw the bird, but he felt better when we got to go look at the sheep and goats (they had just been sheared).

We also walked through the woods and saw our first cicada of the season. A couple of the other kids turned over some logs and found them. The cicadas are coming soon to Chicago, possibly even today. Soon they will be singing and making quite a racket. They've been underground for 17 years and they're ready to party. Or at least mate and then die. The guide told us that a single male’s shrill courtship call can reach 90 decibels, equivalent to a kitchen blender. She also told us that a group of them is louder than an airplane's engines, but because they are so high up, we don't hear it as quite so loud. The buzz is apparently not as high pitched as other cicada varieties.

They don't bite or sting and don't harm trees (except for very young trees, pencil thin--the females cut into the trees to lay their eggs, and older trees will survive this, but younger trees may not). You can even eat them (although we'll refrain from that). So they are just an amazing (and noisy) life cycle that we are lucky to witness.

I did read a funny article about cicadas attacking ice sculptures at a wedding at their last emergence (in 1990). Apparently, many ice sculpture companies are holding off on doing weddings this June. Here's a quote from the article:

‘‘We put our tray down and immediately the cicadas came off the ground and attacked the ice. Literally, it was a moving sculpture, this big black ugly mass of cicadas constantly moving,’’ said Nadeau, who owns Nadeau Ice Sculptures of Forest Park.

But I digress (as usual). So the Ryerson Woods event was nice. It was a beautiful evening, we walked through the woods, we saw wildflowers and birds and insects. We then went inside for a talk about bird constellations and other night sky wonders. Unfortunately, it was a cloudy night and we weren't able to actually view the sky with the telescopes that were set up for that purpose.

On Sunday, we were hanging with Rocco and Skylar and Andrea again. We all went to see "Go, Dog, Go!" put on by the Chicago Children's Theatre in the big yellow tent in Grant Park. I didn't like it as much as I had hoped I would, but the kids were laughing through the whole thing, and that's the most important thing.




The clouds that kept us from seeing stars was still there, a thick layer of fog all around the city. Max and Otto said, "Look! Someone cut off the top of the Sears Tower!" We did a quick tour of the garden around Millennium Park. Lots of beautiful blooming purple plants. Just what I'd like to see in our garden. We've got a lot coming up again, and it's fun to see what's blooming in their garden already, as they're always ahead of us. The city does a great job of decorating the city with flowers and plants.

Today we're going to a park, to see more of the city's handiwork. It's supposed to be a beautiful day, and it will be nice to just relax with the kids.

Trading Lemonade for a Piano

So, Max's wish came true. We stumbled upon a piano posted on Craig's List for exactly the amount of money we had made at our yard sale. (Of course we had to pay quite a bit more than that to get it moved in here, but I like to think that Max's plan to take his lemonade stand money and put it into a piano was successful.) It looked and sounded good and seemed just the right piano for us.

It was delivered yesterday, and Max has been playing it ever since. He made his own sheet music for it, since he realized we didn't have any music books (not that he could actually read those).


Our experience with Craig's List has been so wonderful. I feel like we've made connections with each interaction—"the girls," who now own many of our former possessions as well as a piece of Max's heart; Ruth, the woman who bought our cheery yellow chairs and lovingly packed them up in the rain; and of course, Justin, the person who sold us our piano. He is a music student at DePaul, and he learned to play on this piano. He now has several keyboards and other instruments and could not afford the cost of moving the piano from apartment to apartment. He had it in a storage unit (where it was costing him a lot just to house it), and we went to pick it up yesterday. Justin was sitting inside the small dark storage unit, his back on one wall, the piano back at the other wall, barely containing them. He was playing music from the film Amelie as we walked in. He plays beautifully (and I love that music). We listened to several other pieces as we waited for the movers to arrive. It felt like he was saying goodbye to his piano, and we were lucky to be able to witness it.

Already, our house feels more alive, just having this piano in it. Where in the world could it possibly fit?, you may wonder, if you have ever visited our house. Well, we just made room. Priorities, you know. Our dining rom table has mostly served as a repository for mail and other things that we don't know what to do with. We moved it aside, piled toys over and under it, and gave the piano a prime spot in our dining room. Perhaps we'll move the table up to the attic for another time in our lives, when we are entertaining again, or perhaps we'll post it on Craig's List. Maybe we'll make another friend.

More on Balloons

Otto really likes this song, so imagine how happy he was to see that the video for it also includes balloons. Rufus Wainwright's Across the Universe.

And on another video note (it's been a movie morning here), Max and Otto both love this claymation version of Blossom Dearie's To Keep My Love Alive. Not sure what it says for their future relationships.

The Wishing Star

We collected leaves as we walked to the park yesterday, soft green leaves which had just fallen. They fought over the ones with the longest stems, as they were easier to carry. We found one with a tiny hole in the center, shaped like a perfect star. We held it up to examine it further, and Max said, "I think a wishing star fell from the sky and landed on that leaf." When we got home, I held it up to look at it again, and the sun streamed in through the tiny opening. I think Max might be right.

Free the Balloons

Max and Otto love to get balloons from Trader Joe's, but they like to release them as soon as we are in the parking lot, or somwehere where we can see them go up into the sky. We stand by the car and watch them until we can't even make out the tiny dots. I'm always wondering if the employees who just gave them to us notice this. The last time we were there, they were out of balloons, and the kind employee took us over to the helium tank, let them pick their colors, filled two balloons, attached the ribbon, and wished us a wonderful evening. We walked out, loaded the groceries in the car, and then we sent the ballons on their merry way.

So of course, we loved this new video from The Shins, Australia. Check it out, and set some balloons free yourself.

It's All Relative

We spent the weekend having a yard sale. It was our first ever, and we REALLY needed to have it, as we are pack rats (we prefer to think that we are collectors, but really, we are just pack rats). Plus, the boys really wanted to have a lemonade stand, and who could deny them that childhood memory?



Saturday's sale went so fast that we didn't even have time to get everything out. People pored over our books and bought lots of them, they took time to look through all our kitchen gadgets and bought things I didn't even know we had, some people bought things that I hadn't even meant to put in the yard sale (nothing we really needed, so perhaps it was better that way), and almost everyone bought lemonade from Max and Otto. A few of our friends stopped by and helped us pass the time while our kids played, and the weather was beautiful. But when it was over, we felt pretty depressed that we still had so much stuff!

So today, we had a spontaneous sale, "The 25 cents sale," we called it. It was not very well advertised (unlike the previous day), and it was Mother's Day, so it wasn't a particularly good day for our event. Today, the day passed sloooooowly. We only had a handful of visitors. Most of them did not understand that we were really selling each item for 25 cents. Martin got out his ukulele and practiced for an hour or so without interruption. Max and Otto sat patiently at their lemonade stand, but only one couple even wanted a cup. The boys finally got bored and went upstairs to watch a movie. I pondered the passing of time, how one day can go so quickly and another so slowly. I was listening to the radio, and then I heard an interview with Thomas Cathcart and Daniel Klein, authors of "Plato and a Platypus Walk into a Bar... Understanding Philosophy Through Jokes." And they told this little funny:

A snail is mugged by two turtles. When the police ask him what happened, he says, "I don't know, it all happened so fast."

At about 1 pm, the scheduled closing time of our sale, we were even more depressed than the day before. How did we get here, to this place, where we have so much stuff, so much stuff that no one else even wants?

But then, "the girls" arrived. "The girls" are two women who just moved to Chicago and advertised on Craig's List that they needed a futon. We contacted them a couple of weeks ago and sold them ours. When they came to pick it up, Max was simply enchanted. He dressed up in his Darth Vader costume for them (as did Otto). We all talked with them for quite a while, and they admired the boys' costumes. Martin sold them his beloved "dress dummy," which had decorated our apartment for years (he had strung little white lights throughout the dummy, and she quietly lit up the living room on many nights). Days after they left, Max asked, "when will the girls come back?"

"The girls" (who are, in reality, named Kim and Tanya) came to the sale yesterday as well, and they bought their fair share: lots of books, kitchen stuff, clothes. They truly seemed interested in our crazy collection of things, and they also listened patiently (and were perhaps even genuinely interested) as we told them the stories of each item. But it was today that they saved us. They arrived with Tanya's mother and their friend Abbie (he had also been with them the day before). We were just about to box everything to take it to the Brown Elephant, so we told them they could have anything they wanted. And, thankfully, they took lots and lots (and gave us $10 to boot).

It's a funny realization that you actually care about the stuff you are giving away, that you somehow want the people who take your stuff to like it as much as you did. That you care about it so much that you keep it for years and years in boxes that go untouched and gather layers of dust. Perhaps it's about control. Perhaps we are trying to hang on to our former selves in some way, thinking that someday that skirt will fit again, or even if it won't, it will always remind you of who you were then, when it did. Perhaps it's an attempt to hold on to the time and energy we spent acquiring those things, things, things—like if we just get rid of it all, we are somehow admitting that we wasted valuable time and energy. Or maybe it's just that we can't part with them because we fear that as soon as we do, we'll suddenly find a great use for that slightly burned potholder after all.

Tanya's mother talked with me about our garden. The boys did a few costume changes for the girls. Everyone found something they wanted to take with them. We hugged them goodbye. It was a great end to the day.

But it wasn't the end. While we were talking...more people came. And so we gave them stuff. And then even more people came, and we loaded them up too. One woman was counting out pennies because she wanted to pay us 25 cents for something (our sign was still up), and she said she could only afford one or two things, as that was all she had. We gave her a bag and told her to fill it up. And she did. And then she filled up three or four more bags. As she left, Martin said, "it really puts things into perspective."

One boy, who was probably about 14 or so, shyly said he really liked Martin's dress shirts. I told him he could have them all, but he very carefully went through and selected the colors he liked, blues, purple, green, teal ("that's a really beautiful color," he said). No yellow. No orange. He was definitely a "cool" customer. He looked at me with very big eyes, and it felt really good to give him so many clothes. I could see they would really look great on him. He also took a couple of armloads dresses that I was hoping would sell all weekend. He said, "My mom would really like these. She loves anything with flowers on it." He didn't want just any dress; he very thoughtfully looked at them and made sure his mom would like them, and when I held up one that was shorter, he said, "No, she only likes long dresses."

In the end, we made about a quarter of what we made on Saturday (which wasn't a whole lot either), but we felt fantastic. We put most of the rest in front of the house with free signs all around. Who knows what will be left tomorrow, except probably a mess of the things that have been looked through. But it really feels like a heavy weight has been lifted. Literally, a heavy weight HAS been lifted, removed from our attic. I can almost feel that it's gone. The house is taking a nice, deep breath and relaxing its shoulders.

We went to Lula for an amazing dinner (we had survived the entire weekend on lemonade and cookies and sesame sticks!). We ate large delicious meals. We were all ravenous. And for dessert, we had a gourmet version of a moonpie, a take on the kids' dessert, but it was made with rich chocolate cake rounds and homemade marshmallow creme. On the side was a small glass of chocolate soda with frozen hazelnut mousse, served with cute little straws. When we finished it, the boys complained we had eaten too much of it and wondered if they could have another. We couldn't believe they could eat another entire dessert at that point, but they assured us they would, and so we ordered it. And they ate it all! Otto said he wanted to have moon pies like that for his birthday cake. But, he added, it needs to be shaped like a horse. I'll have to think about that one a bit.

Tonight, Max asked me if we could have another yard sale tomorrow. When I said that we wouldn't, he said he wanted one, that he would like to have one every day, so he can sell lemonade, so he can save up enough money to buy a piano. "Wow," I said, "That would be a lot of lemonade." "Yeah. That's okay," he said.

And that made me think of another one of the jokes I heard today on the radio, and it went something like this:
Man: "Lord, I would like to ask you a question. Lord, is it true that a million years to you is but a second?"
Lord: "Yes, it is."
Man: "And then, Lord, what is a million dollars to you?"
Lord: "A million dollars is just a penny."
Man: "Well, then, Lord, may I have a penny?"
Lord: "Sure, just a second."

Happy Mother's Day to Me

I made myself a little mother's day present. It's a movie of our year in 2006. As is NOT usual for my movies, it is short and moves quickly. :) But hopefully it still conveys how much I really love my boys, our life, and how lucky we really are.

I must confess that I've blatantly stolen the idea for putting it together from friends whose movies and music are always an inspiration...so thanks for the idea, Craig and Gillian!

Happy Mother's Day to all of you moms out there. And especially, to my mom, for whom I never even made a lanyard. Love you, mom. ;)

A Poem for Mother's Day

The Lanyard

The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.

I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that's what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light

and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.

Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth

that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.


—Billy Collins

Happy ...errr.... 3rd Birthday, Eamon!

Our very good friends recently lost all their digital photos of their kids (hard drive crash). I am trying to get together all the photos I have of them, and in doing so, I found a lot of movie footage of their older son, Eamon, on his third birthday. He is now 5, so this is a bit late, but hopefully it's even more wonderful, seeing "lost" footage 2 years later. Happy belated birthday, Eamon! We love you!

As an aside, our second children (Otto for us, Pierce for them) were born on the same day, which we always find to be a very happy coincidence. There's a little footage of Otto and Pierce playing together inside as the older boys shoveled snow in their socks. We love you too, Pierce!

Halloween 2006

Here's a video about last Halloween. We made little gingerbread witch houses, but I think the boys had even more fun tearing them down. Both boys dressed as Darth Vader (Darth and mini Darth). Also part of our Halloween celebrations is Midnight Circus in Daley Plaza. I think we saw the show seven times this year. We love them! The boys are already asking when we will see them again.

Happy Anniversary

Martin and I celebrated our 8th anniversary on Tuesday, May 8. Martin took the day off, and it was a beautiful day.

Martin took the boys to the park for a couple of hours while I had a doctor's appointment, and then we all headed to Foster Beach. I can't wait for more beach days!

Lill Street Gallery

We went to Lill Street Gallery on Monday to check out the space, and see if it will be a good place to continue our exploration of pottery throwing when Hands On Art closes. It's the first time I visited the new space, and it's beautiful! There is a great cafe, where we had a very delicious and nutritious lunch. They had a couple of signs that were worth noting.





We toured the space, which is really nice, but unfortunately, kids can only work there when they are actually in a class. If you are an adult and taking classes, you can use the studios, but I think they are afraid kids will just run amok. I will really miss the freedom we had at Hands On Art. Only one month left to take advantage of it...so we'd better head out there soon!

We also checked out the current exhibit, "To China and Back: The Work of Matthew Harris." Max and Otto liked the little porcelain figures who were mounted on various sculptures.

Niki in the Garden

We spent Sunday afternoon at Garfield Park Conservatory, where we all enjoyed the new sculpture exhibit Niki in the Garden. These gigantic (some are 18 feet high), beautiful, colorful sculptures by Niki de Saint Phalle included animals, mythical figures, totems, and Nanas (big, round, overflowing women who just seem bursting with joy and life).


All the sculptures are covered with ceramic mosaics, stones, glass, and even mirrors, and they feel so good to touch, or to sit on, or to climb, as many invite you to do. There were these lovely signs which indicated what each sculpture allowed (a hand icon for touching, a chair icon for sitting, a ladder icon for climbing, a smilie face for enjoying). Max loved the signs and would run up to each one and scream, "This one is for touching!" and run to the sculpture with arms outstretched.




The effect of the mosaic mirrors was really wonderful, and it was fun to see what was reflected, whether it was the other sculptures, the people wandering around, or a cubist version of yourself.


There were about 30 sculptures in all, some inside the conservatory, and some in the outdoor area. It was a beautiful evening, cool and a bit cloudy, but perfect viewing weather. There was a jazz ensemble playing on the terrace, and we stopped to listen for a bit before we wandered around to the sculptures (the music continued to float to us, and it was a great backdrop to the art).

Max particularly liked the giant skull. Otto had fallen asleep in the car on the way, so he missed much of it, but he woke up in time to climb into a few pieces and run around the labyrinth leading up to one of them.




We will absolutely return to this wonderful exhibit, hopefully on a nice day, when the kids can play as long as they want, climbing on and exploring the little cubby holes in the animals. As it was, we were some of the last people to leave, kicked out for closing time.






We went to Edna's for some soul food and stopped at the newly opened Haas Park for some more play before heading home. It was a great end to our weekend.

Tourists in Our Own City

Our thoughtful and generous friend Andrea called on Friday afternoon with a question: "Would you want to spend the night at the Palmer House?" She had reserved the room through priceline for a performer, but then didn't need it after all, and she was just hoping someone would be able to use it. (She, on the other hand, planned to rise before the sun, drive to the North Park Nature Center and wait in line with a bunch of other crazy people in order to register her son and mine for a class this summer.) What kind of lazy and inconsiderate friend would accept such a selfless offer?


We packed a bag and hopped on the train, and by early evening, we arrived in downtown Chicago, to stay in the beautiful old hotel, just off Michigan Avenue. And then the adventures began...

There were about 40 total fire engines and trucks blocking the streets near the hotel, as apparently there were two separate fires in two buildings (not next door to each other, but one building down from each other) on Wabash. It was a curious coincidence (or perhaps more than that--the fires started about an hour apart), and luckily, the firefighters were able to contain both fires pretty quickly. But for the boys (or, let's face it, for Martin), it was an amazing opportunity to see firefighters at work! We stopped to look in several trucks, and we talked to lots of firefighters and one fire chief ("What is the difference between the black and white uniform?" we asked, "Oh, the white is for the chiefs," he replied. And then proceeded to talk to us about the fire while he took off his protective layers.)

The night was mostly uneventful after that. We ate dinner at the Big Downtown, where Max ate a GIGANTIC burger (their motto is "make no small burgers," after Daniel Burnham's "make no small plans.") Otto watched the model train as it sped along the model track.


Back at the Palmer House, we admired the lobby and all the ornate ceilings, and then we went up to the room, where the boys jumped off the bed (don't tell the staff) and played with the luggage rack (they are always thrilled that hotels have these little devices). We slept (but not until very late) on incredibly comfortable sheets and a fantastic mattress (strong enough to withstand a hundred jumps, at least!).



And this morning, the boys made us coffee (they LOVE the in-room coffee makers), and then they took a bath and tried out the shower caps which were provided in our very deluxe room (two bathrooms! two TVs!). It was lots of fun to be in such a fancy hotel. (Thank you, Andrea!)



Then we set about trying to find a place for breakfast. There's a new place we had heard about called Hannah's Bretzel, and we walked up Michigan Avenue to find it. It took longer than we thought, and then we couldn't quite remember the address, and then Martin decided that it might be better to eat at a diner we passed, and I didn't want to eat at the diner, and then Max and Otto complained that we were fighting, and then we were all grumpy, and then....


We stumbled across the most magical little thing. On the corner of Michigan Avenue and Randolph Street sat an adult tricycle with a big wooden puppet theatre mounted on the back. The Puppet Bike, of course. And inside of that little theatre was a puppet show with some mangy looking but somehow absolutely adorable puppets, dancing to great music. You could not see the puppeteer at all, nor did you hear anything other than the music, and we were immediately moved by this wonderful sight.


The kids moved in closer, and the puppets continued to dance, changing to different puppets for each song. There was a rascally looking alligator, and a crumpled old owl (which looks EXACTLY like the owl Martin has from his youth, and which I often make fun of for being a bit past its prime), two little cutie kitties (who looked like the Daniel Tiger from Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood), a curious squirrel, two very different looking lions, and two funny little dogs (Otto really liked the dogs). The music was mostly jazz and zydeco, and we loved it all, and soon we were all dancing to it. The boys thought it was great fun to put money in the clear box mounted on the front of the theatre box, and when the puppets "ran down" to check it out, they thought that was even more hilarious, so they kept throwing more money in, until we were completely out of change (we gave him a bill or two as well, in the beginning).

It was a delightful experience, and we will hopefully run across this wonderful little theatre again (and again).


We finally found Hannah's Bretzel, which was closed. So we walked back down Michigan Avenue, stopped again to see the puppet show and then we went to Heaven on Seven for breakfast. Once we were all fed some delicious Louisiana cookin', we felt much better. (Shrimp and Grits, Crabcakes and Poached Eggs, Fried Green Tomatoes, YUM.) The boys got to pay at the register with a fistful of cash (they don't accept anything else), which they thought was great fun.


And then we walked back to the train, back to our "real lives."

The Collectors

We were planning to have a yard on Saturday, but the gods (or at least the weathermen) advised us that it would not be a good day to do so, as rain is in the forecast. I have spent the week going through our stuff and am disappointed that this will be postponed, but I am also happy to have made some progress (the pile of stuff is now in the stairwell and slowly approaching its exit).

When I was posting our yard sale ad to Craig's List, I saw an ad for another sale on Saturday that caught my eye. Someone was selling off their Star Wars collection. I emailed him that we were having a yard sale on the same day as his, and I wondered if he would, by chance, have time to show his collection to us before that time, and I asked him what sort of stuff he had.

He kindly emailed me back to say he was selling lots of unopened boxes, about 100+ figures, plus lots more stuff. I assumed this was targeted at collectors and told him we were just going to rip them open to play with and probably couldn't afford them, but he emailed me back that he was selling them for $2 to $3 a box and would gladly show them to us.

So on Wednesday, we arrived to his very cluttered apartment (it looked very familiar: books, toys, collectibles everywhere), and we were greeted with a roomful of Star Wars toys and paraphernalia. The seller (Joe) was extremely nice (he was dressed in a very funky, artsy way, with a cool jacket and an Irish accent), and he mentioned that it was good we could come that day, as the next day was going to be extremely busy for him. They are moving to California in two weeks, they have a lot of other stuff going on, something came up unexpectedly the day before... He wasn't trying to make us feel that we were inconveniencing him; in fact, it was quite the opposite. He seemed relaxed and said he was actually happy to see some of these toys go to little boys who would play with them. While the boys looked at the action figures, trying to decide which ones to buy, Joe made them a little goodie bag full of miscellaneous Star Wars stuff, like Pez dispensers, picture books, pens, glow in the dark stars.

Joe told us he had been collecting Star Wars stuff since he was a kid in Belfast, and it seems he has carried this collection with him through several moves. I wondered why he was finally parting with it, but I refrained from asking.

We finally settled on 10 small figures and one big 12" for $32 total. As we were giving him our cash, I asked what it was he did, just wondering about someone with such a mod apartment and cool attire and relaxed and kind demeanor.

He very modestly said he is a musician with a group called Assassins, sort of mumbling it, really. It sounded familiar, but I had absolutely no idea what sort of music that would be. He said it could be described as a cross between Fleetwood Mac and electronica. That sounded pretty interesting, so I asked him if he had any CDs for sale. He said he did, but seemed amazed I would want one. He somewhat reluctantly retrieved one and said, "It's $10, are you sure you want it?" I told him we'd absolutely like to remember the person who gave us all this great Star Wars stuff, and we paid him and left. It was a really pleasant encounter.

We put it in the CD player, and I was surprised to like it quite a bit. It gave me a weirdly depressing feeling combined with a sort of happy one at the same time, reminding me of how I felt when I first listened to Radiohead (who I came to like very much). We didn't get very far into it, however, when Otto reported that they didn't like it "so much," which was a nice way of saying, "turn it off." Max did not express an opinion about it, but he did not complain when I turned it off.

When I got home, I looked up the band online and found out why they were going to be so busy on Thursday...they were opening for New Order. (!)

Also at home, the boys ripped open all ten boxes of small figures, plus the large Darth Maul (the 12" that Max picked out). Then we took Darth Maul to the park, and Max sent him down the slide. I wondered if Joe would have a nervous breakdown if he knew they were being carried around a dirty playground, swinging and sliding. He had packed them so lovingly in the bag before we left, placing them opposite each other in what seemed to be a very specific way. But, Joe, wherever you are, I can assure you that Max and Otto will love these toys, and we'll all remember you.