We'll build our walls aluminum

Lately people have taken to tagging NO WAR NO RNC on a variety of available surfaces, which is not unexpected. No matter how insensible it is to get feisty about a convention that's going to fling all kinds of money all over the state, there will always be more than enough insensible people. It looks like somebody just went up and down Lake with a can of black spraypaint and tagged everything that was sitting still long enough for them to remember how to spell the words. But the first time I encountered it, it was near the bus stop by the store, and they must've been getting tired because it read NO WAR NO RNS.

I thought that was funny. Confound those nurses and their incessant warmongering anyway.

We'll make our homes on the water

Mara came up to visit on Saturday, so after I spent most of the morning procrastinating and one frenzied hour tidying up, she sat on my couch and I sat on my shoe chair and wondered aloud what to do this weekend. I don't know, she said. Want to go camping?

Well, sure, let's go.

So a few hours later, we were sitting in a tent, wondering aloud what to do this weekend. I don't know, she said. Want to go for a hike?

Well, sure, let's go.

So the next morning, we packed a bag with a light lunch and one water bottle and a trail map and set off for a stroll. Eight hours later we staggered back into camp, approximately five more steps from willing ourselves to die on the spot. Apparently Mara and I can both add "reading maps correctly" to our list of things we'll never be able to do before we die. We knew we were in for a few miles, but we figured on maybe six or so round trip. A bit more of a walk than we were used to, but still nothing too bad. As it turns out, it was six miles out to a stupid picnic table...which left us no option but to walk six miles back. With one bottle of water.

We did feel like superheroes afterwards, though. Stiff, aching, grouchy superheroes. I even got to call in to work today, which is always a good time.

I think I'm going to be a little distrustful of "hikes" for a while, though.

When we arrive, sons and daughters

We are in the process of completely and obsessively rearranging every part of the store, and somehow little sub-departments got sort of lost in the shuffle. Like sunglasses. Men's hats. Nobody seems to know where the capri pants went. And we still haven't established a toy department. Out of all of the missing things, this is the one people get most snippy about. There is nothing quite like having an irate welfare mom get into a snit about how her dozen unkempt children won't be able to systematically destroy our toys while she spends three hours shoplifting through the store.

Clearly, kids these days just don't know how entertain themselves. So I thought back to my childhood days and made a list. Cheer up welfare kids, it's ramen for dinner again but at least Dead Cat is free!

A COMPENDIUM OF GAMES

as played by Betsi & Katie:

Dead Cat: one person (the "dead cat") crouches on the floor. The other walks up to the dead cat, announces "There's a dead cat. I think I'll step on it," and steps on the back of the dead cat just as the dead cat springs up from the ground, sending the other person flying. Repeat as desired.

Beautiful Cat: one person (nearly always Katie, on pain of whining to mom) prances in a circle. The other pretends to be several of the many admiring, but hopelessly flawed, cats watching and attempting to woo the beautiful cat. I'm pretty sure one of those cats was named "Fart Cat."

I Don't Wanna Go To The Doctor: one person lies on the floor and shrieks "I don't wanna go to the doctor" as the other person drags them around by their socks until their socks come off. Repeat until mom demands to know why your socks are now four feet long.

IIIIIIIIII'm Siiiiiiiiiiiiick: remove all cushions from all furniture in the living room. One person sits on the denuded couch and groans "IIIIIIIIII'm siiiiiiiiiiiiick" while the other screams "here's your medicine" and neatly stacks the cushions on the lap of the sitter. After all cushions are stacked, sitter leaps to her feet.

Marbles: form small circle, aimlessly toss marbles in and out of circle until Katie's ADD kicks in and you can declare yourself the winner on grounds of forfeit. Repeat until desired sense of superiority is achieved.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarves: independently produced and directed theatrical performance. In addition to costuming, stage directing and scripting, I was also the king, evil queen, huntsman, seven dwarves, prince, and a variety of woodland creatures. Katie was Snow White.

Rapunzel: for role distribution, see "Snow White."

Horsey: one person is the horse, the other rides. Included a variety of horses, among them:

-Sky High: horse stands on hands and feet instead of hands and knees. This feat is easily accomplished as a small child, but may require a semester of yoga to master the technique in adulthood. Comically difficult to mount, due to height.
-Ka Ching: coin operated horse. Real coins not used; onomatopoeic "ka ching!" considered acceptable substitute.
-Sudden Stop Horse: horse suddenly stops, rider pretends to not notice and continues to walk bowlegged for a few paces before looking back in feigned surprise.
-Killer: bucks off rider and stabs them to death with a knife.

The Little Mermaid: sit on a large rock and sing.

Eeeennnnerrrrgggyyyy...: played after grocery shopping, if mom let us get single serving bottles of Sunny Delight. Both players pretend to be winged flying unicorns, creating an unnecessarily dramatic plot until such time as our winged flying unicorn energy ran out, at which point we had to croak "eeennerrrgggyyyy" and crawl desperately over to the bottles, our energy source. Katie frequently pretended to die a very dramatic death. I was required to pretend I was sad about that.

Dumbo: the classic Icarian game of pretending to fly perched on another person's raised feet. Best played with dad. Not as effective with your small, weak little sister.


Games Betsi Played Alone:

Marbles: name all the marbles after characters from Watership Down. Obsessively remember exactly which marble is which, creating complex dramas. Get upset when you realize Hyzenthlay rolled away under the dresser and you've mixed up Thethuthinnang with Strawberry. Again.

Barbies: name all the Barbies and give them complete personality profiles. Obsessively remember which doll is which, creating complex dramas. Gymnast Barbie is not to be trusted. If you don't like the way the story is going, wave your hand and say "erase erase erase" and start over.

Eating Breakfast: you are the wrathful, mighty god on the mountain and the cheerios are your shrieking rabble turned sacrifice, nom nom nom. All cower before your merciless hunger for their delicious, slightly soggy flesh. Pretend to accept pleas for mercy for the children of two parent cheerios, then consume the entire family at once as punishment for having the audacity to think they could sway you from your purpose. Years later, question if it is normal for a five year old to approach a bowl of cereal like this.

Games Katie Played Alone:

Just kidding. Katie didn't play alone.

She said, "Gordie baby, I know exactly what you mean."

As the 21 pulled into the Chicago transit station today on the way home, we had to stop and wait a few minutes behind some other buses, which is normal. It's a transit station. It is crawling with buses. And as we wait, I glance out the window on the other side of the bus and notice a man doing a walk Mr. Rickets would envy, all jerky and jangly and awkwardly elastic, like a rubber marionette on a caffeine buzz, or maybe a meth addict after a twelve hour yoga marathon. And he was in a hurry. He was zinging along as fast as his silly putty legs and windmilling arms would take him. It wasn't really anything you could call "zinging along" under normal circumstances, but when I first saw him I assumed he had some kind of advanced form of cerebral palsy, which made his speed relatively impressive. And then he bobbleheaded closer to the bus and I realized he was actually just unbelievably drunk, which made it even more of an accomplishment.

He jangled past the bus, legs flailing along in an unsteady goosestep, and made a beeline for the enclosed waiting area of the station. It took him a few tries but he managed to open the door twice (after pulling on the push door for too long, he lost his balance, fell against it, regained his balance again for a moment after it pushed open and then lost it again in the other direction, and by the time he'd figured out how to stand up the door had closed and he had to start all over) and stumble inside. And the next five seconds passed very memorably indeed.

There are moments when you glance at something and don't catch anything in the glance. The temperature on the TCF building marquee flickers out of view just half a moment before you register it and you have to wait for it to show up again, for example. Or a car with a funny bumper sticker cruises past too fast to read it all. All too often, you can't catch what you want to see in a moment.

Alternatively, there are moments where you take in far more than you ever, ever wanted to. Five seconds isn't nearly enough time to check out the cute boy in aisle two. Five seconds is, however, ample time to see an extremely drunk man unzip his pants, start to pee a fountain into the garbage can in the bus station, then lose his fight against gravity and s-l-o-w-l-y topple over backwards, still peeing, to land flat on his back on the floor and continue to pee straight up into the air. And all this as you are turning your head to look away.

Time is funny like that.