Mortimer's Dad

A Night with the E-Street Band

Since Bruce and the Band reunited back in 99, I have been extremely fortunate to see them 7 times. This alone is a testament to what a fine show they put on. The latest opportunity to see the band was this past Sunday in Ottawa. Would the Band still rock this time around?

Things got off to a dicey start. I am a slightly habitual, make that a highly regimented, individual. By sheer fluke, I have spent nearly every evening on the right hand side of the stage looking towards Bruce, Clarence, Nils, and Danny Federeci.  Sunday found us sitting lowdown, facing the band straight on from the far end of the arena. A fine seat to be sure, bit not the sight line I am used to. I know I sound like an ingrate/nitpicker/idiot but the site line threw me for a loop. While I would be able to overcome the seating (I am quite the trooper) a new, more serious situation emerged. I noted the arrival of the 2 women who would be sitting directly in front of myself and my friend. They seemed to have some type of physical impediment/disability as they descended the stairwell in a very deliberate manner. I would soon get to the root of their disorders.

The band strutted on stage about 45 minutes late and broke into Radio Nowhere and The Ties That Bind. The 2 women in front of us? Their hesitation in negotiating the stairwell was due to their inebriated state- more loaded than a set of funny dice in Vegas. Not only were they sloshed, but they were tall women who felt compelled not only to stand in their seats but dance with their arms outstretched as thought they were preparing to snare an all-important rebound in a championship basketball game. Now I have no problem observing women dance in synch with music. In fact, it can be quite compelling at times. These chicks possessed no rhythm. Trustme when I say it was a total turnoff, distraction and annoyance.

I was faced with the classic concert conundrum or the "triple C" as I like to call it. I paid 125 big ones to see the band. The women in front of me also put up 125 smackers and they were intent on dancing. An usher tried to intervene, but the din, the intoxication factor and the electricity in the air all combined to produce a complete "fuck you" response from the so-called dancing women. The thing that was really remarkable about this event is that, in general, Ontarians (Ottawa is in the Canadian province of Ontario for my International Readers) are remarkably reserved. In fact, from my vantage point, we were stuck behind the only non-seated individuals in the arena.

Incredibly, in less than 5 minutes a supervisor invited us to sit in another area of the arena. Against all odds, we were seated to the right of the band and back to my regular vantage point. The rest of the the evening  then reverted back to another night of "Magic" with the Band. While the crowd was mostly demurred until the encores, the Band ripped and rocked through the set. The fact that the Band played Adam Raised a Cain underscores the tenacity of the music. I can't explain what a joy it is to watch the Band play. They genuinely seem to be having a fantastic time. Smiles are evident on everyone's face all night long. You can actually feel the band's energy emanating from the stage and infusing the entire crowd with a enveloping sense of joy and giddiness. It is this element that I most enjoy at any Springsteen concert- looking at the band play, and smile and then looking around the arena to see the crowd standing, enjoying themselves and becoming one screaming delirious throng attached to the E-Street band.

Obviously Bruce is a great performer but the talents of Van Zandt, Lofgren, Clemens Weinberg, Bittan, Federeci, Scialfa, and Tyrell cannot be overlooked. While I have heard all the songs before, no tour is ever the same. This time around, harmonies were stressed throughout the concert. It gave Backstreets , Promised Land and Tougher Than The Rest a refreshing new sound. Reason To Believe with Bruce's harmonica and Nils Lofgren's guitar was an absolute show-stopper. The energy level  went off the chart when the Band played Darlington County. As the music pulsed and built up so did the crowd as eventually we were all a screaming gaggle of fans. You can only imagine the frenzy that broke out once Springsteen delivered "the hits" such as Badlands, Born to Run and Dancing in the Dark.

The only lowlight for me was that for the first time since 99, Bobbie Jean was omitted from the play list. Being the grizzled veteran that I am, I have given up waiting to hear the Band play The River or Rosalita.

To sum up, the music was great the joy was palpable and most of the band is near 60 years old. I am amazed.

Of Paparazzi and Bottles

I mentioned in my prior post that I was starting to feel very "special"here in Hefei. Well,let me revise the comment and say that I feel like Brad Pitt or George Clooney. The Wife, Sprout and I went shopping yesterday for shoes, toys and the like. We headed for one of the big department stores in downtown Hefei. To say that we stopped traffic is an understatement. Sprout came equipped with Robeez. Robeez is a fine product for a slipper but Sprout required an actual pair of shoes. Our first stop was the shoe department. Within one minute, we were surrounded by 9 salespeople. Sprout is surely large for her age, but I think 9 salespeople is taking it a little too far.

The intense staring, nay outright stupefaction and physical fixation on us is astounding. The Chinese, at least here in Hefei, are nothing is not forthright. People literally stop whatever they are doing, whether it be riding their bikes/motorcycle like contraptions or walking and will stare at us in utter disbelief. Not even my engaging in banter or waving at them can break the trance. It really can be quite disturbing.

Also disturbing was Sprout's decision to awaken from a deep slumber at about 1:17 am. Despite my Wife reassuring me that I am quite deaf, I seem to be the sole individual in our household who can pick up the sound of dogs/children whimpering during the overnight hours. Sure enough, I heard Sprout's muted, but insistent plaintive wales for something. what to do? The four of us sleep in an area about 3 feet squared with the 2 kids about 1 large toenail apart. Do I let the wailing continue unabated until it coalesced into an outright sobbing thus waking everybody? Should I be proactive and grab the child and feed her a bottle? If I did, how would I get her back to sleep without waking everybody? Or, easiest, just let my Wife deal with it?

Displaying sure signs of sleep deprivation and early signs of dementia, I grabbed the bull by the horns and snared Sprout out of bed and gave her a bottle. I was a bit rusty at the outset, but all ended well as she swigged down the bottle and returned to her peaceful slumber. Even Mortimersmom gave me a thumbs up. Nice to know that parenting skills, once picked up, can be taken off the shelf after years of disuse.

An Update

Partaking in a nearly 30 hour travel odyssey inevitably yields a post or two. First, I want to thank all of Mortimersmom's readers who actually took a second out of their day to send me their well-wishes. Were I an emotional being, I might have shed a tear. Seriously, I really appreciate the gesture.

Well, we are in the calm before the storm. I find myself feeling a lot like Bubble Boy. Sarah has been pretty great so far today. Aside from waking up way before the crack of my dawn, things have gone smoothly. It's almost as if we have everything under control. But, who am I kidding? We are sitting on a powder keg.In less than 18 hours, we are going Doublemint- twice the kids, twice the flavor, twice the fun. To compound the situation, our newest addition will not be a mass of uncoordinated human baby matter. Rather, Sprout is already 17 months old. She will be of a beastly proportions which will result in nearly immediate chiropractic work for me. The latest reports we had on the new one is that she is quite developed and can grasp things with strength along the lines of famed Russian weightlifter Vasily Alexeev. Finally, she has been characterized as "stubborn".  So, the mere fact that I feel all is well and I have the time to wax poetic reveals just how dissociated from reality I am.

Hefei, the city we find ourselves in here in the People's Republic of China, has been quite fascinating. There is some type of undefinable odor that permeates the city. It is not toxic or oppressive just omnipresent. The locals really can't get over the sight of a bunch of whities with big noses who happen to be proud parents of little Chinese children. I really feel "special" here. Traffic moves here with reckless abandon as neither pedestrian, motorist, nor multifaceted bicycle like objects yield one inch. Horns blare with a frequency rivaling the syndication of Seinfeld. Finally, the Chinese smoke. I would even say they smoke alot.

The most interesting facet to Hefei is the food. There are far more sweet potato vendors here than coffee shops in Montreal. You can literally buy a sweet potato every 10 feet in downtown Hefei. I did not even know that the Chinese liked or grew potatoes. When was the last time you had potatoes at a Chines restaurant. Speaking of restaurants, I am quite a fan of Anthony Bourdain. I think I am going to take my health in my hands and do like Anthony as there are a ton of really dingy, dirty, dark and totally disgusting looking restaurants that seem to be selling good smelling food. I really must try one of these joints. The million dollar question is just what kind of meat are they selling.

Well, I am about to break out of my bubble as Mortimersmom and Dumpling's supposed nap time is about to come to an end. Next we speak, I'll probably already be in line for counseling and hernia adjustment...

Regularity

Months of inactivity followed by back-to-back posts. who would have thunk it? In any case, I highly recommend adopting a dog. Sure they are lovable, provide boundless amounts of unconditional love (whatever that means) and are a constant source of companionship. I find the true value of my dogs lies in their ability to keep me regular. You see, the household is busy these days. Dumpling goes to school 5 days a week, the house is being renovated and the Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/Christmas rush is hitting the store. I find a moment's peace everyday by getting the dogs out for their morning jaunt by 6:30 am. That is to say, Lucy places her 80 plus pound girth on my midsection while Mortimer gently gnaws my earlobe as an indication that sleep time is done. I slip into yesterday's clothes and head out into the darkness (trust me in the Northeast anything before 7am or after 4 pm is sheer darkness). I do not know what it is about the morning walk. Somehow, the combination of the fresh air, walking and watching them get their business done always results in me emptying my bladder immediately upon my return. They are better than bran, prunes Ex lax and metamucil combined. Has anybody else experienced this?

Life In Flux

As my great aunt would say, life is going to hell in a hand basket and quickly. Our household lies in a sea of anarchy. The contractor called last Friday giving us 48 hours to clear out both the basement and the garage. In a future posting I will explain the the disaster in the basement. It suffices to say that fixing sh*t costs a ton. Hence, our home entertainment system (suitable for a small mess hall) has been shoved into our living room (yes the room that was done on Trading Spaces). Dumpling's toys have been moved en masse to the attic which leaves about 5 feet of free space. These are the most egregious spots of clutter in the manner. Basically, wherever you look, there's clutter. 24/7 I feel like the lady in the Calgon commercial who pleads to be taken away somewhere...

As if this was not enough...the clutter situation follows me to work. We have a nice shop in the old part of town. We are the storefront on the main level while there are 4 floors of offices on top of us. Naturally, there is an elevator as well as a stairwell to access the offices. The bottom of the stairwell has become the bane of my existence. You see, someone in the building has begun to use the bottom of the stairs as their personal landfill/recycling depot. Inconveniently for me, the stairwell is located right in front of the store. Has society's cohesion become so fragile that garbage dumping has become an accepted ritual?

You must be wondering where this rant is heading? That makes 2 of us. In any case, I can usually find some solace in my diet. Many would say the word regimented is too generous in describing the variety of foods I ingest. For instance I drink Homo Milk and Rougemont Apple Juice. That is it. Whatever is happening around me, I always know that the great taste of Homo Milk or (never and) Rougemont is around the corner. Well, guess what? If you clicked on the link, you will notice that the 1.89 litre bottle is no longer around. That was the only juice I drank. Now, surrounded by the furniture/clutter anarchy, the garbage anarchy at work I wander like my Jewish predecessors through a desert of thirst trying one crappy apple juice brand after another. You can not imagine how parched I am. By sheer fluke, I hit a giant stash of old apple juice at the kosher bakery this morning. Like a druggy jonesing for their next hit, I forked over the one dollar premium per bottle for the rush of good apple juice. But, this only delays the inevitable. I will need to find a new apple juice. Any suggestions?

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Am I Too Self-Centered?

That is the question I find myself asking with alarming frequency of late. You see, Dumpling recently celebrated her 2 and a half year old birthday. The celebration was quite muted as I think we spent it at an ice cream parlor. Be that as it may, she is well in to her terrible twos and nowhere is this more painful than mealtime. Thank G-d for the dogs as they manage to scrape all food remnants off the floor in seconds.

The most successful meals occur when we let the Dumpling eat off one of our plates. We will cut some BBQ chicken up for her or some steak or whatever it is that we are having and she will actually ingest some food bits. While I am more than happy to do this, the one area we have been having (make that me) trouble is breakfast time. Dumpling loves cereal. I love cereal. The combination makes me terribly uncomfortable as Sarah wants to apply the sharing technique to My morning bowl of cereal.

I usually attempt to repel her cereal advances. My Wife naturally sees this as a combination of selfishness/and or pointless resistance. Why, she muses, am I willing to share all of my food but draw the line with cereal? Can't you see how excited your daughter is too share cereal with you? Can't you see how much easier breakfast would be if you shared with her? Can't you see how much more Dumpling would eat and, as a result, how much healthier her diet would be if you just gave in? My Wife has not articulated each of these questions but these are the thoughts running through my head each and every morning.

While at first glance (or maybe even at second, third and fourth glances) my Wife seems to be correct, everybody has their limits. I like to think of my twice daily bowls of cereal as my oasis to tranquility. The reality of a toddler squirming all over my lap, leaping at any given moment kind of clashes with my ideals. While I can overcome this obstacle, my real impediment to cereal sharing is my strong belief in personal hygiene. Dumpling's eating style can best be described as almost approaching the Cave Man era. For her, spoons and forks are merely suggestions, best used for making percussive type noises. Far better, in her opinion, are the use of her fingers and, after a short amount of time, sucking things right off the plate/bowl/table with her tongue and nose. Given this "eating" style, cereal sharing is doomed to lead me to severe bouts of nausea and anxiety.

While some might think that I am being a tad harsh, I am just pointing out the danger of the existing meal. Dumpling bathes every other night. Dumpling also has long pigtails. In other words, after having dinner and her evening snack, numerous (though admittedly tiny) food leftovers dot Dumpling scalp, upper lip, and lower chin area. Just imagine setting those particles out to fester for an evening of sleep and a morning of being hugged by the dogs and then allowing the wee one to dunk her head in your bowl of cereal. That's a little rich for my taste...

A Meaningless Pledge

Here is the latest on Darfur...

Some are hailing the inclusion of language regarding a "responsibility to protect" in the draft declaration on UN reform to be discussed during the three-day summit being held in New York.

The "Responsibility to Protect" is, according to the seminal report on the topic

[T]he idea that sovereign states have a responsibility to protect their own citizens from avoidable catastrophe, but that when they are unwilling or unable to do so, that responsibility must be borne by the broader community of states.

The report, and the idea, were generated by the international community's ignominious failure to intervene in situations such as the 1994 Rwandan genocide. The thinking was that it was necessary to shift the debate away from a "right to intervene," which carries serious implications for the cherished idea of national sovereignty, and toward a "responsibility to protect" those people in danger.

After much debate, compromise and rewriting, the final text included in the draft declaration came out looking like this

The international community, through the United Nations, also has the responsibility to use appropriate diplomatic, humanitarian and other peaceful means, in accordance with Chapter VI and VIII of the Charter, to help protect populations from genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing and crimes against humanity. In this context, we are prepared to take collective action, in a timely and decisive manner, through the Security Council, in accordance with the UN Charter, including Chapter VII, on a case by case basis and in cooperation with relevant regional organizations as appropriate, should peaceful means be inadequate and national authorities manifestly failing to protect their populations from genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing and crimes against humanity. We stress the need for the General Assembly to continue consideration of the responsibility to protect populations from genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing, and crimes against humanity and its implications, bearing in mind the principles of the Charter of the United Nations and international law. We also intend to commit ourselves, as necessary and appropriate, to help states build capacity to protect their populations from genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing and crimes against humanity and to assist those which are under stress before crises and conflicts break out.

Nowhere has the Security Council or the UN member states actually pledged to do anything. This section carries no legal obligations; rather, it merely reiterates that the UN has a responsibility "to help protect populations from genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing and crimes against humanity," which is something they already an obligation to prevent under the Genocide Convention.

Note also that it doesn't say that the UN has a "responsibility to protect" but rather a "responsibility ... to help protect" those at risk. That is a big difference.

As such, it is a little difficult to share Canadian Prime Minister Paul Martin's excitement

But a Canadian-inspired initiative highlighting the world's responsibility to protect threatened people and prevent genocides is a clear move forward, Martin said.

The doctrine "essentially says that if Rwanda occurred today that the United Nations would act," he said, referring to the genocide that took an estimated 800,000 lives in the African country in the mid-1990s.

Considering that there is "another Rwanda" currently taking place in Darfur, why are we to expect that suddenly the UN is going to take seriously its "responsibility to protect"? Has the UN failed to act thus far solely because it lacked this one resolution? The UN has resisted acting on Darfur for two years and there is absolutely no reason to believe that this recognition of a theoretical "responsibility to protect" will have any impact on the legal or political concerns that have thus far prevented action.

If the UN and its members truly believed in the "responsibility to protect," they would be protecting the people of Darfur, not writing resolutions vaguely promising to act when Darfur-like situations arise in the future.

posted by Eugene Oregon at 4:01 PM

Tofutti Cuties

The power we, as parents, posses is startling. In fact, it might be a good idea if someone were to regulate my exercise of such omnipotence from time to time. In my never ending quest to vary Dumpling's dinners/lunches I reached elbow deep into the freezer and extracted some Tofutti Cuties . These are tiny, dynamite ice cream sandwich like bars which are a perfect dessert. After a little bit of haggling, cajoling and persuading, the Dumpling took to it like a dog to a particularly sweaty pair of shoes. It was a smashing success until she asked me to have a bite. I was in a no win situation. If I do not share the bar Dumpling will immediately conclude that it is below grade and thus undeserving of human consumption.

Why the hesitation on my part? In short, being nestled (or was it more packed in under layers of ice) as they were, I could not honestly remember if these Tofutti Cuties were actually purchased during the present calender year. Throwing all caution to the wind, and wanting my daughter to continue eating at all costs, I opened my mouth wide in eager anticipation of the impending culinary delight. If by culinary delight I meant the pungent taste of freezer burn which has only recently left my mouth, then I was not disappointed. Does freezer burn end at some point, or, like fine wine, does its aroma only strengthen over time? Is there research on the topic? In any case I managed to put on a brave face and croak out a limp Uhm Uhm good. Dumpling then proceeded to devour the rest of the bar.

Naturally, I probably should have stopped her right there. Instead, not only did I let her finish the bar, but I also succumbed to her eager demands for another Tofutti Cuttie the next day. I reasoned that her bowels are fine and she has no visible rash. However, after much deliberation I feel somewhat guilty about my actions and have since disposed of the 2 remaining bars. We are going grocery shopping tomorrow so I will be anxious to see if Dumpling will actually like a fresh Tofutti Cutie or if we will be forced to engage in an aging process.

What is Dumpling?

To use professional jargon, I think we have a "developing situation". In what is turning out to be a horrible cross between the seminal film Teen Wolf and Kafka, Dumpling can't decide if she is all human, all dog or a "healthy" mixture of the two. Things took a turn for the worse Friday night when, in a desperate attempt to feed Dumpling, Mortimer's Mom fed Dumpling little pieces of food at a time and let her eat it in a similar posture to the dogs i.e. Dumpling had one leg on the table much as Mortimer and Lucy do when they are searching for balance while trying to steal tabletop scraps. A little innocent fun, with nutritional value kicked in. Could it hurt?

In short, yes. Dumpling now likes to lick the dogs' water bowl. IN all honesty, this development has been going on for some time. If we leave Dumpling unattended for a few minutes one of her favorite routines is to plunge face first in to the water bowl and lick away. She has extended her dog behavior to foods such as jello where she will stick her face in the bowl and try to eat via licking. It has gotten to the point where we are thankful when she opts to eat food using her hands. Who needs cutlery?

While this tale may seem sordid, the truly shocking part has yet to be divulged. For the second time in the span of a week, Dumpling attempted to take a dump in the middle of the back yard. Her acute dog observational skills have been put to good use as she attempts to squat in as similar a fashion to Mortimer as she can without falling over. Yesterday's attempt succumbed to gravitational pull and she wound up with a posterior delicately sprinkled with grass, dirt and a pebble.

Let's all offer a prayer of thanks to the man upstairs as Dumpling's daycare begins Thursday...