XII: Who is this serious guy?

Another update (audible groans), and another addition to the list. I think I will start making these things pop-up ads, equally as irritating and covering as wide an audience. This time my brother-in-law Fritz joins the list, another casualty of the spousal-forwarding syndrome. This brings an interesting topic to mind. Not the email forwarding, but the topic of in-laws. I once had a 30 minute conversation about whether or not Fritz's wife, Mary Jo, was my sister-in-law. The argument being that because Fritz is Regis's brother, Mary Jo is Regis's sister-in-law, and Fritz is my brother-in-law, but Mary Jo could not be my sister-in-law. Is it hard to picture me having that argument? For thirty minutes? Probably not, huh?

Anyway, today I hit you with a little more somber update than usual. Things in the area are a little bit different these past few weeks, with the happenings in the world forcing a bit more attention on this area again. Of course I'm speaking of the events in London and the assumptions that something of a similar nature will inevitably occur here. We have seen, as a result, the presence of more armed personnel throughout the streets, as well as random searches prior to boarding subway and other trains. I have not been searched but have seen many people searched as they go through the lines. The train station that I pass through every day is underneath the World Trade Center site. So, the whole scene can be a little unnerving if you allow yourself to dwell on it too long. For the most part, New Yorkers go about their day, knowing that "it" is all there, seeming a little more guarded, a little more watchful, but yet carrying on about their day nonetheless.

Today I had lunch with an intern from our office, whose name is Hassan. He is a Muslim from Pakistan, and a student at Indiana University. He and I met when I was interviewing intern candidates last fall, and we reconnected when I came out here (ironically, we bumped into each other at the train station). Today we discussed the searches, and the concept of profiling. I asked him if he had been searched. He said he has but that now he purposefully leaves his computer in the office and carries no bags - to prevent suspicious glances. By contrast, I carry my computer everyday, in a backpack that has effectively become my "man-purse." Hassan is not angry or bitter that he is searched. He stated quite plainly that "the people who are doing this do not look like you, Jim... They look like me." He went on to say that if we were in Northern Ireland, perhaps I would be searched instead of him, in the event the IRA had done something. It was nice to hear his point of view, even his comments that sometimes we Americans are "too worried about offending someone."

I'm sure this is quite a different update than what you have come to expect to from me. My parents arrive this weekend, so I'm sure the next one will be filled with the usual chaos and frivolity. Please take one thing away from this -- I'm doing fine, Regis and the kids are doing well, and the news you hear in the American media is more exaggerated than reality. Security is heightened, yes. But it's still New York, there is still work to do and lives to live. And we are doing that, every day. Just a little more watchful and a little less naïve than we used to be.

On a more uplifting note -- today is Maggie's 3rd birthday, so I'm going to get out of here and go celebrate with my girl. There is something about being the father to a daughter -- it makes you want to be a better man, and 3 years ago that happened to me. I'm going to kiss her on the head, watch her blow out her candles, and enjoy every minute of her exciting smile.

Hope you all have a great evening.

XI: Annie's latest exploits

Greetings from the Northeast. I'm happy to announce another addition to the list, namely my cousin Theresa, who along with her husband Ben and their son Nicholas, will be suffering with the rest of you. For those of you who keep track of these sorts of things, this brings the total number of email addresses on the list up to twenty-six, and the number of readers up to four.
I'm on a train heading to Connecticut, so, even though we haven't done a lot lately, I felt compelled to waste your time anyway. Today I thought I would update you on the recent antics of our youngest, Ann Elise, on the occasion of her 18-month birthday.

You may recall some time ago I told you about the arduous process of waste disposal here in New Jersey - specifically that you must separate all refuse into containers depending on what that refuse is...they call it "recycling" or something like that. Anyway, we here in the Watson house must add an additional step to the process -- we need to check the containers for things Annie has thrown away. Annie is quiet, relatively speaking, and she "flies under the radar" you might say. Recently, I was sitting in the kitchen, trying to stealthily eat a meal (more on this in a minute), and Annie wandered in, with one of my hats in her hand. She waddled over to the trash can, opened the lid, and threw the hat in. Then she waddled into another room. So far, we've rescued bowls, underpants, cups, hats, shampoo from the bathroom, and a book. Usually you see people put a cinder block on their outside trash can, to keep the animals out -- not us, ours is on the inside cans. Anyway, who knows what household items have actually made it to the curb unbeknownst to us. Maybe Annie read Thoreau and she's trying to simplify our lives. Maybe she is trying to tell us she doesn't like our choice in consumer goods. I think she's just a booger.

Oh, quick tangent for some other big news, this time involving Maggie -- we have fewer diapers to buy. That’s right, bribed with the prospect of M&M's and "prinpress anties" (underwear with Disney princesses on them), Maggie tackled the potty-training step of her young life in a matter of days. Now if we can just get Annie to want to be like her big sister....

Back to Annie. Annie's other antics generally revolve around the consumption of food. She likes food. All food. Well, except for peaches. But that's it. Peaches. That's the one thing she won't eat. Tomorrow I will begin a steady diet of peaches. Why? Well, perhaps an illustration of a standard Saturday morning will help explain:

6:55 am. "Jim, the girls are up"
7:25 am. "Jim, the girls. They're up"
7:32 am. "Hi Dad" (says Maggie ... Annie now heard screaming in other room)
7:33 am. Breakfast for Maggie and Annie -- usually Cheerios or similar whole-grain cereal "with milk on emmm"
7:45 am. Maggie off doing something else. Annie asking for seconds.
7:59 am. Open new box of cereal for Annie's third helping.
8:11 am. Annie off to find things to throw in trash.
8:49 am. Jimmy is awake, asking for breakfast. Re-open box of cereal (quietly), and pour him a bowl. Annie, with freakish supersonic hearing that bats would envy, hears the rustling of plastic and is now waddle-sprinting down the hallway.
8:50 am. Annie, using her belly as a lever, springs herself into the chair next to Jimmy.
8:51 am. Pour Annie fourth bowl of cereal.
9:17 am. With kids distracted, I sit down to have a bowl of cereal.
9:18 am. Having heard rustled plastic, Annie enters. Repeat steps four thru ten.

The other night, the kids were eating chicken nuggets. Maggie got up from the table to "go potty." As Reege was assisting Princess Margaret in the necessary room, Annie got down from her chair, waddled over to Maggie's chair, sprung herself up on to the seat, and began dining on her sister's fare.

Fun times.

Hope you all are doing well.

Jim

Update Vol. X: Visitors and the 4th of July

Greetings all,

It's official - there is a NYC Update Jinx. A few times ago, you read about Hans getting fired, and, well, there has been another downsizing. Mickey Dolens (see Update VII) was recently fired by WCBS, in part because the station decided to switch formats.

We had a few visitors over the past several days, and the house is now in a full state of withdrawal. Soon the wailing and gnashing of teeth will come to a close, as the children realize that being alone with their parents isn't so bad after all. For starters, Jeff, Mary, George, and Jackie Watson stopped by on their whirlwind tour of the eastern seaboard. They need to send out an email of that crazy trip - 11 states in 7 days or something insane like that. I popped an ulcer just imagining taking our three kids on that kind of a trip. They were gracious enough to let Reege and the kids impose upon their hotel pool (remember those days, when you were a kid and the coolest thing in the world was to go to a hotel and swim), and they even let Jimmy accompany them on their trip to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island (as Maggie told me "Dimmy went to the City today"). Needless to say, tears were shed when they departed. Jimmy is a big fan of his first-cousins-once-removed. Reege is a big fan of her husband once he's removed too, but that's another story.

And for the 4th of July weekend, Grandma Watson came to visit the Grandkids. Coming back up from the lows resulting from the Watsons' departure, there was much rejoicing, especially from Maggie who had been talking about this visit since mid-May I think. "Maa-ma comin? In just a minute?" We had a fantastic visit. On Saturday, Grandma, Jimmy, and I took in the local town fireworks. We drove a few minutes to the local grocery store parking lot and had a decent view of the pyrotechnics that were being fired off from the County College of Morris, just a mile or so down the road. What made the occasion so special, was not the revelry with 400 fellow idiots in lawn chairs in the mosquito-ridden grass surrounding the parking lot, or the originality of the fourteenth passerby who was honking from the road as they sped by...no, it was the phone call from Reege about half way through the display to inform us that that the show could be seen clearly from the south windows of our house.

On Monday, Independence Day, we decided it would be appropriate to honor our country. After all, we reside (currently) in our nation's 3rd state, home to important battles that helped secure our independence from the tyrannical King George III. Naturally, we should take this opportunity to....visit the Crayola crayon factory in Easton, PA. Yes, that's right, the spot where over 126 billion crayons have been manufactured, half of which are in our basement in various Tupperware containers. Easton is a nice little Rockwell-painting town about an hour's drive from the abode (and home to Lafayette College, for those obscure sports fans who might get excited about the Lehigh/Lafayette rivalry). The Crayola Factory and Store are in the center of the town, and for the literalists out there (like my son ... "Dad, it's not 8:30, it's 8:28"), it is not the site of the actual factory. The actual factory is seven miles away. This is a made-for-tourism replica and museum that features interactive displays, tours, the 1,000,000,000th crayon manufactured, the world's largest crayon, and merchandise (see what I mean, the perfect way to celebrate our country).

Following our visit to the Crayola factory, we headed back to the car. We tried to stop at a museum of Pez dispensers, but it was closed, so we loaded back up. One "highlight" to report --- when Regis was putting Annie back in the car, she noticed that her diaper was missing (Annie's not Regis's). In all likelihood, somewhere in the factory, there was, in fact, a used diaper. So, if you read of any related news, regarding the shutting down of the Crayola facility, we may or may not be involved.

That's all for now. Hope you all had a great holiday weekend.


Take care,
Jim