And it's fun to say, too.

If you're not learning, you aren't living. I don’t know who said that, but some day I will and that will be the thing that I learn that day. In the meantime, it's on to other pearls of wisdom. At a certain age, you reach a level of understanding such that A) you know what you know, and B) you know what you don't. Every day I stumble into newly gained knowledge that before that stumble happily resided in category B. When something comes into your realm of "wisdom" that seems like it should have been part of A, that's when my "repetitive questions of disbelief" start. You know the ones -- the "are you serious?...how long has this been true?...how did I not know this?" Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Today's installment of "When did this happen and where was I" involves the Canadian territory of Nunavut.

Yes, I said Nunavut.

In primary and secondary "Social" Studies, we learned about the Canadian provinces. Even had to memorize them. Probably had to color them on a map. To this day, I can name them, from West to East: British Colombia, Alberta, Saskatchewan, Manitoba, Ontario, Quebec (no Frenchie, it's not its own country), New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, Newfoundland (Home of the Bay of Fundy), and Nova Scotia (my favorite). We also learned about the Yukon Territory and the Northwest Territory.

But wait, you say. There is another territory. That's right, kids, the land of ice and snow where there's midnight sun and the harsh winds blow. Nunavut.

Nunavut is the land that stretches north of the Hudson Bay up to the North Pole.

From http://www.polarnet.ca/polarnet/nunavut.htm

"The territory of Nunavut (which means "our land") stretches some 1.9 million square kilometres and is nearly one-fifth the size of Canada.

"The Nunavut Land Claims Agreement is the largest Aboriginal land claim settlement in Canadian history. When the Agreement was signed, legislation was also passed leading to the creation of a new territory called Nunavut on April 1, 1999. The new territory will have a public government serving both Inuit and non-Inuit.

"Though the creation of the territory of Nunavut is a new chapter in Canada's confederation, the story of Nunavut and the Inuit who make their lives there is an ancient one, going back over thousands of years."

You will also be happy to know that, with a median age of 22.1 years, Nunavut is the youngest Canadian territory or province. That means either the happening night life of Nunavut is an untapped resource, or people up there die at age 30.

Fore

The boy and I went golfing bright and early yesterday, a par-3 course(goat ranch) where most of the holes are about 90-100 yards long. Perfect for him because he is still learning. Perfect for me, because I still haven't learned.

On the 8th hole, Jimmy had the 5-wood dialed in, and hits a low liner that reaches the fringe. He was pumped up. I hit my "drive" - loft wedge - onto the green and for the first (or maybe third, max) time, I actually backed it up. Pretty sweet, until I realized I backed it up past the fringe, meaning that the boy out-drove me. It was a long day listening to that.

XXVIII: our trip to Joan's Graduation

Greetings and salutations. We are fresh from a journey to Northern Virginia, the traffic jam capital of the Confederacy, for my sister Joan's college graduation and my nephew George's 1st birthday. As if the grey hairs in the mirror were not reminder enough that my youth is history, this weekend served as further enforcement of the message. My sister Jill has a 1-year old son and I can still remember flushing her pacifier down the toilet in our home in Rantoul, Illinois. My sister Joan is now a college graduate, and when Regis and I started dating - Joan was my son's age.

Since you readers are no doubt going through your own "I'm old too" mental gymnastics after that uplifting introduction, I will pause for another edition of "Maggie Says:"

The other day, Maggie gave Regis a bunch of tangled necklaces, which she had made from beads from a craft kit. She said "they are all rectangled...can you fix it." Yesterday, with the rain pouring down, Regis asked Maggie if she knew where rain came from. It is likely that Jimmy piped in with some answer about cumulonimbus clouds and barometric pressure. Maggie responded, quite obviously, that rain came from rainbows.

Raising children is so much fun. This weekend, I got to see my sister Jill in action in this regard, and I got to hear my brother-in-law say the words "he was headed for the toilet again," with respect to my fearless, yet tremendously low-key, nephew. I've never met a more laid-back kid in my life. He's great. I seriously think you could take him to a golf tournament, an art gallery, or a cannon-shooting exhibition and his expression would be the same - a content smile. What a great kid. This, of course means that Jill and Patrick's next child will force Jill to be institutionalized. Or maybe they are really good parents. Could that be it? Nah.

George still has a healthy level of mischief, as witnessed by the aforementioned toilet incident or wanting to crawl around regardless of where is - crowded room, muddy field, etc. This mischief is hereditary, clearly, after all, it was about his cousin Annie that the words "your daughter just shoved a barrette up her nose" were written.

My sister Joan's graduation was a great time as well. Joan was recognized as the winner of the prestigous Senior Achievement Award and graduated Summa Cum Laude. I know what you all are thinking - Jim must have been adopted. I've suspected it for years as well.

Excepting the 13 hours of driving (round-trip), we had a great time. And in anticipation of a response to this update from my mother - I wanted to hear someone else's take on that story rather than my own. And no, I don’t expect that to make sense to most of you.

Hope you are all are doing well.

We've taken over the house. Our demands will follow shortly.

Greetings all.

We have taken over.

At 0900 Friday, our Mom left for Chicago with Jimmy.

Dad was left "in charge" of us.

We waited for the right moment, having lulled him into submission by a cunningly devised ruse - namely, we behaved well. After a day and half of this, Dad's guard (what there was to begin with) was down. We asked to play hide-and-seek and when he predictably hid in the front hall closet, we wedged pennies in the door frame and locked him in. I'm sure he regrets telling the same old college stories over and over and over and over and over. And over.

Don't worry, Dad will be fine. We are shoving Raman noodles under the door to keep him nourished.

We need to go back to watching TV and eating cookies and thinking of our demands. More toys will be a start. Then the car keys. Maybe a credit card or two. We plan on printing them out and sliding them under the door with his next helping.

How did we type this? Well let this be a lesson to you parents out there who make your kids learn their alphabet.

Fondly,

Maggie and Annie

Let's Answer some Mail

As time has gone by, I have received quite a few emails with questions about the contents of the updates. Today, I thought I would take the opportunity to address some of them.

Q: We don't really want to hear about you. What other funny things does Maggie say?

A: Every night we read Goldilocks and the Three Bears because the kids like the voices I do for the bears (the mama bear voice is one for the therapists some day I'm sure) and I like to read it because Maggie rests her head on my shoulder as I read. Maggie calls the main character "Goldiloxen." Maggie has also grown quite independent these days; she likes to say "I'm going to do it by my own self." Not surprising from a girl whose "Lelo hair is soooo boo-tee-ful"

Q: You always mention funny things Maggie says, but never Annie. Does Annie say anything memorable?

A: Regis and I stress good manners, meaning our children don't speak when their mouths are full. So the answer is no.

But seriously, Annie says comical things from time to time. For example, one of the favorite shows for the girls is Dora the Explorer, featuring a bilingual girl and her monkey, Boots. Dora's nemesis, aside from the INS, is Swiper, a fox who tries to steal Dora's things. Swiper can be thwarted simply by saying "Swiper, no swiping," to which he responds "awww meeeyann" in a high pitched voice. Annie does a great Swiper imitation and will say "awww meeeyann" any time anyone says "Swiper, no swiping." As you might have guessed, I say "Swiper, no swiping" at very random times to get the response. The corresponding looks we get are classic. She also says "whoohoo" if you say it first, again, no matter the time or place. I have too much fun with my kids I think. Annie also says "hey you get back here" which is pretty entertaining.

Q: There was no mention of Easter. Where there any eventful happenings?

A: Even uneventful happenings are eventful with us, you should all know this by now. On Easter weekend, amidst gorgeous weather, Oma and Opa came for a visit and this time we managed to not have too much water either in the form of rain or standing water in my kitchen. The Easter Bunny brought Jimmy rollerblades, the girls received princess scooters, and I got pepto bismol. The girls also received accompanying princess helmets, which Annie would not take off except for bed. The obvious benefit being that there was no food in her hair after dinner that night.

Q: When are you going to explain the Lincoln statue (mentioned in XXVII)?

A: Like gravity, the space-time continuum, and the popularity of the Monkees, it defies explanation.

Q: What advice can you give future parents of young children?

A: Get used to saying the phrase, "No, not in your nose" without hesitation or consideration of what it is you are saying.

Q: Why are you such a dork?

A: I'm not sure. I would blame my parents, but they seem to be fairly normal. Well, except for going on dates to the gas station.

Q: You've been home alone with the girls for 36 hours now, while Jimmy and I are in Chicago. Is the house a disaster? (Regis, Randolph Township, NJ)

A: Clearly a rhetorical question.

Q: You made all of these questions up didn’t you? (Regis, Randolph Township, NJ)

A: Except for that last one, yes.

If you have a question for the Mailbag, feel free to email it so I have an email to read.

Hope you all are well.

Happy Spanish Day

I was commuting last night on the PATH train from NYC to NJ. First, some context. The PATH is just like the subway in NY, or a dirty version of the DC metro. Most of the time I stand to ride, and last night, as usual, it was crowded. People keep to themselves, and by that I mean that they ignore their surroundings almost completely. You would have to walk onto the train with a stick of dynamite, or without pants on, or both, to garner even the slightest bit of attention from anyone. The screaming of obscenities, biblical quotes, or gibberish will not make anyone budge. Not even flinch. Direct conversation will often result in a completely stone silent response and nary a waver from the targeted audience. It's as if everyone is in a bubble. As a result, people often assume you can't hear them, so they say the wildest things, if, for instance, they are on a cell phone conversation. Add to this the fact that most people inexplicably speak at decibel levels north of 140 db when on a celly telly. Well, one gentlemen on the train last night was having such a conversation. Here was his side of the conversation [pardon the language, but it's vital to the fabric of the story]:

"Naw, I didn't talk to him today"

"Naw, I wasn't at work yesterday"

"Naw, today was my first day this week at work cuz"

"Hell naw, I didn't go to work Monday because of Spanish Day"

A few key points:

a) The man was an African-American. His name might have been Mexico, but he was not from there, trust me. To use an SAT-style analogy, "Jim is to Negro as this man was to Hispanic."
b) The protest by undocumented, illegal aliens crossing the border from Mexico is apparently now a national holiday in honor of ... Spain?
c) The term "Spanish Day" was used a few times throughout the conversation, which under some codes of law means it is now officially a holiday of record.
d) Yesterday was Wednesday, so I'm naturally wondering why he didn't go to work Tuesday. Perhaps he slept through Tuesday after a particularly spectacular Spanish Day celebration.
e) I quoted his remark at least seven times at a totally random moments throughout the Wednesday television viewing. And laughed hysterically each time. This is probably the least surprising fact.