On This Date in 1998

With JoAnna away from home through Wednesday evening, the first half of this week, starting with Sunday evening, was another experience in single parenthood. Sunday is bath night, and sometimes that can result in a struggle trying to get the boys focused on getting ready for bed after a weekend of staying up later than usual and doing pretty much whatever they want (within the bounds that Mom and Dad set, of course!). Minutes before bedtime, I usually ask the question, “Did you brush your teeth?” at least three times. Sometimes I even demand an inspection. A puff of their breath in my face. That wasn’t necessary Sunday night. 

Monday was a fairly typical day. I got the boys off to school without a hitch. Andy rode his bike, as he is still able to do at this point in December with no snow on the ground. The temperature was in the 20s, but I made sure he had his winter jacket, hat and gloves on. Eddie opted for a ride. It felt odd dropping him off in the van. JoAnna had driven the car to Two Rivers. 

Eddie had a cub scout pack meeting Monday night from 6:30 to 7:45. I let Andy watch about three quarters of the Packer game. Not a pretty sight. It looks as though Green Bay will stumble into the playoffs and then probably trip on their faces in their first game. Even with all the injuries, I can’t believe that Brett Favre allows himself to get so rattled during games. Can he look any worse than he did this past Monday? If so, the Packers may not even make the playoffs. Actually, a Bears upset on Sunday would not surprise me. 

I noticed a report in one of the local papers about the energy demand in Wisconsin Monday evening. It set a record for the winter season. A utility spokesperson attributed it to all the TVs tuned to Monday Night Football (what about the accompanying heavy use of microwaves to make popcorn and het up Cheez Whiz for nachos?) as well as the abundance of icicle lights this year. To put it colloquially, those babies suck a lot of energy. Speaking of Christmas decorations, we haven’t done much of anything yet this year. We do have a wreath on the front of the house and our stocking are “hung by the chimney with car” but otherwise, no tree, no lights around the fireplace mantel, no crèche. Since we plan to be gone for the last two weeks of the year, putting up a tree was never a consideration, although JoAnna did causally suggest that we buy an artificial free. I’m not exactly Mr. Deck the Halls, so any further signs of the season at our house will be the result of JoAnna’s efforts. 

Back to our review of the week. 

Andy has band practice at Kromrey Middle School on Tuesday morning, which requires an earlier than usual departure from the house. Usually, JoAnna drops him off on her way to work. This time I had to provide the taxi service while Eddie remained mummified in a blanket on his bed. Kromrey is less than a mile from the house. Can you imagine the outburst if I had told Andy he needed to walk there? 

Andy interrupted my workday in the middle of the afternoon, right after he got out of school, and asked that I drive him to Zany Brainy, a toy store in Madison, part of a new chain that seems to be giving Toys R Us a run for its market share. “You promised me yesterday that I could get a yo-yo today,” he reminded me. And I admit that I did speak those words. I gave him $15 for babysitting Saturday night, and he was eager to spend part of his earnings on what appears to be a revived fad among gradeschoolers. For whatever reason, I don’t know. Is there some TV show that has made yo-yos all the rage? You can’t even check out a book on yo-yos in the library. Every title has waiting list. I tried to weasel out of this commitment because my workday, which is usually pretty flexible on a Tuesday afternoon, needed my primary attention, but I figured a half-hour absence from the library was better than hearing Andy whine for the rest of the day.

At first, I thought I was going to have to juggle taxi service and a work commitment that evening. A Winter Sing, a 1990s-era substitute for the no longer fashionable 1960s-era Christmas celebration, was scheduled at Elm Lawn School. The band was on the program, scheduled to play a few songs, so Andy had to be at the gym by 6:45, fifteen minutes after the start of my library board meeting. He managed to hitch a ride with Meaghan. I was ready to worry about supervision if Eddie wanted to attend the Winter Sing, too, but fortunately, he expressed no interest. His mind was focused on something much more important to him. He reminded me, when I picked him up at school, that I had promised to buy him a Star Wars toys at the local Walgreen’s. (I must look like an easy mark to my sons. I wonder if they plot these scams together.) Now I truly don’t remember this conversation. But then I thought, “This will be a good way to bribe some good behavior out of Eddie.” He was literally buzzing with excitement as we entered the store. He ran straight to the toy section while I wondered how many people he was going to knock over as he barreled his way to the back of this favorite aisle. The store was jammed with people. Eddie made a remark a couple years ago, the exact circumstances I can no longer remember, that is as meaningful today as it was then. “Sometimes I can’t stop thinking about Star Wars.” \

If I hadn’t bought him the toy beforehand, I probably would have done so after the board meeting, which lasted until a few minutes past 8:00. Eddie was an angel. He didn’t look for me once, which would have meant interrupting the meeting, and the staff wasn’t even aware of his existence after they saw him walk through my office toward the children’s area. He either quietly paged through books or played games on the computer we have set up for kids. Andy didn’t get home until nearly 9:00, by which time I had helped Eddie with his reading, about 4-5 pages of Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel. 

As JoAnna was planning to return home before the end of the day, I considered Wednesday pretty much of a normal day from the start. The only evening commitment I had was to pick up Andy, Drew, and Riley at basketball practice at 7:30. I thought JoAnna would be home from a Dane County Airport Commission meeting by that time. I kept waiting for the floodlight to illuminate the driveway, announcing her arrival, but the darkness persisted. Eddie sometimes complains about having to leave the house when he is settled in for the evening, but with the No-TV-on-school-nights rule in effect, he was ready to think about staying home in quiet house at night. The car was in the driveway when we returned home. The boys and I were very happy to have Mom back home. 

Thursday evening Eddie’s scout troop had scheduled a family night at Fast Forward, a roller-skating rink. We all went along, but I stayed on the sidelines, as did the majority of parents it seemed. I have no problem with ice skating, probably because I did so much of it on the flooded tennis courts at Beaty Field when I was a kid. Even when we took the boys ice skating for the first time a couple years ago, I strapped on a pair of skates and hit the ice (almost) as if there was nothing more than a snap of the fingers between 1962 and 1986. Roller skating is a different story. (I’ve yet to wear a pair of rollerblades.) I feel as though I’m standing on the top of a 10-foot stepladder with wheels, about the lose control. The last time I went roller skating, two or three years ago, I practically dragged my right hand along the wall for support. I just couldn’t seem to get into a rhythm. I should get pair of rollerblades so I could join the boys on their neighborhood jaunts and to build up my confidence on little wheels. I’ll have a long way to go to catch up to Eddie. You should see him motor around the rink. He hardly took a break from the greased-lightning ovals he made around the perimeter, then the interior section of the floor. He was all over the place and looked very confident, always able to avoid what looked to be a sure bump here or push there. Maybe I should look for a roller hockey league for him to play in. He looks like a natural. I’ve always considered Andy as being much more athletic than Eddie, but rollerblading is one sport where Eddie is at least his brother’s equal.

May 12, 1992

JoAnna walks back into the bedroom holding Eddie.

"I think we have a sick little guy on our hands."

Eddie has a fever.  She suggests we take him to Ginger Ail, but I volunteer to stay home.

"I have a meeting this morning that I don't have to attend, and I was planning to take off the afternoon anyway."

Eddie's fever stays within the 103 to 105 all day, although by the early afternoon he perks up.  During the morning he's lethargic and clinging when he's not asleep.  So when I take his temperature after lunch, I'm unpleasantly surprised to find that it's still over 103.

JoAnna returns home in time for me to get to the library before 5.  The board meets, and there are a few strange interludes:  Gail's clarification of her request to report grant expenditures, my rambling automation progress report, an unrehearsed explanation of circulation policy changes.  I stay at the library until 11, preparing the minutes, writing letters to the Education Section program panelists, eliminating the clutter from the top of my desk, photocopying articles on the L.A. riots.

Eddie's in bed with mom; he's wide awake but still looking a little feverish.  Actually, he feels disconcertingly warm.  I carry him to his bed but then can't fall asleep as I imagine him burning to a crisp.  He does fall asleep but wakes up fussing shortly after one.  Now he's hotter than a Bessemer furnace, much to his screaming displeasure.  He quickly cools down, literally and figuratively.  We keep him in bed with us, which results in a poor night's sleep for me.

Tuesday, February 11, 1992

A partial morning off.  I have an 11 o'clock appointment with Pat to have my hair cut.  My free time is spent at the computer, inputting calendar squares from early 1987.  JoAnna's pregnant; I'm bored.  I still miss the freedom of Oshkosh, the exhilarating bike rides, the crazy Tuesday night, the late-night solitary highs.

Deb is today's interview candidate.  Considering the fact that she's already been offered two jobs this year, both Liz and I are expecting a big-gun showing.  It doesn't happen.  Deb is so overcome with a case of nerves that she can manage only the briefest of answers to our questions.  She doesn't put the slightest dent into Eve's or Diane's chances.

The board meeting is a very useful and productive 2-hour session.  Sandy Allen appears to be very supportive of the library's needs, specifically in the areas of staffing and materials.  Now I have mixed feelings about John Schaffer's candidacy.  I think I'd rather have Sandy go to the mat against Julie and Don.

Tuesday, January 28, 1992

SI

I spent most of the morning on the computer, inputting calendar notes or playing solitaire.  The afternoon is routine.  The special board meeting to discuss a director evaluation pilot goes much longer than I expected.  When I return home, shortly before ten, I'm surprised to find Andy is still awake and acting as though bedtime is still hours away.  After I put him to bed -- no protest -- I sit at the kitchen table and eat graham crackers and drink milk.  JoAnna cries out for me.  I expect her to have another anxiety attack, but she just wants my presence.

Tuesday, January 14, 1992

I get up early, determined to pack in as much as possible into the workday.  Before the Dane County librarians meeting at Verona, I stop by the library to look through my mail and anything else that seems to need my attention.  The meeting is a quickie, and on the way home I stop at Half Price Book and find nothing that makes me instantly grab for my wallet.  I keep to my office during the afternoon, taking care of various odds and ends, and leave at 4 to pick up Eddie.

For some reason, I feel on the edge of a precipice with Sandy on the board, but maybe it's John I need to keep an eye on.  John, the stunning no-show at the holiday party.

I'm happy to report that Sandy is no Julie Brunnette council clone.  She seemed genuinely shocked that the library received no increase in books.  And she seems sympathetic to our staffing needs at a time when library use is threatening to make basket cases of us all.

I stay to work on a variety of tasks and that's my problem -- flitting from one to the next, never being able to get a focus.

November 12, 1991

I'm up early enough to be on time for a 9:30 meeting but the chance to squeeze in a little taping keeps me tethered to my home workspace until 9.  And from here to Monona through the Isthmus is not a quick cruise.  The meeting lasts a lot longer than expected, until 12:05 actually.  Most of us have depressing stories to tell.  Pat Erickson actually has to cut $10,000 from Stoughton's library budget.  All that testifyin' adds to the length of the meeting.  So instead of driving to Middleton via Half Price Books, I take a direct route.  With Liz taking the day off, I put in some overtime.  The board meeting goes extremely well.

October 8, 1991

I spend the morning at home, reading, taping, wishing Barb weren't here so this house could give up its dormitory feel.  The countdown is now under the three-month mark.

The furnace guy stops by around 11.  He discovers a dangerously plugged-up unit.  That tongue of flame I discovered at the end of last year's heating season was due to a clogged flue.

I don't have a very productive afternoon; I'm too busy thinking about how my presentation to the Finance Committee will go.  I get my points across, but my gut feeling is that this is not a year for staff increases.  

The board meets at 6, and the major agenda item is the endowment policy.  The rest of the evening is relatively slow.

I read and watch the last few innings of the AL playoff game once I get home.

September 10, 1991

Dane County librarians meet at Black Earth's new municipal facility.  I drive there groovin' on my latest "Collegiate Gems" tapes.  I also get a little cocky talking about Middleton's abundanza budget request and then go a little ga-ga trying to direct people's attention to the latest Demco catalog (which Carol Liddicoat had brought along.  The Librarian of the Year is struttin' his stuff.

After the meeting, I take the scenic route back to Middleton.  Make that state route 78 to Cross Plains.  I took the scenic route from Middleton to Cross Plains, my old biking route, and tried to figure out where Denny Dorn built his new house.

I hope for a productive board meeting and am rewarded for my hard work in August.

June 11, 1991

I'm up at 5.  When I stop at the library to pick up the boxes of books, I'm surprised to find all of the lights on and even more surprised to find a young black man asleep on the floor in the staff lounge.  I turn off the lights in the public area of the library and surprise the hell out of Lorenzo, who appears to be just starting his cleaning duties -- surprise, surprise, surprise -- but I don't ask the reason why.

I take the Interstate to Janesville and then drive east to Elkhorn through Delavan, a community with a real Norman Rockwell look and feel to it.  Arriving an hour early, I have plenty of time to walk around and look for place to buy a newspaper and a restaurant.  I sit with it over a cup of coffee.

The workshop goes well, but I occasionally feel lost and a little too obviously disorganized without my transparencies.  I have no screen to use.  For me, the 2 1/2 hour workshop passes quickly.  \

I have lunch with Peggy Schaffer and the director of the Elkhorn library, whose names escapes me and whose size rivals Mama Cass.   The restaurant we select is housed in an old hotel building. It's a Chinese establishment, and I find the food -- I order the broccoli with scallops -- much too salty for my taste.  Before leaving, Peggy asks me if I'd be interested in doing a workshop on children's reference this fall.  But of course!

I take an alternative -- U.S. 12 -- back to Madison.  By the time I drop off the books, I have to pick up Andy at daycare.

The board meeting goes very well.  I receive very positive responses and constructive suggestions to the draft of the long-range plan.  We meet for 2 1/2 hours.

May 14, 1991

I drive to Cambridge, stopping at the McDonald's at the Interstate and Highway 18 intersection to attend the Dane County librarians meeting.  Cambridge has a new community center which houses the library, a very attractive facility.  Back in Madison, I stop at the library to pick up two of the books I have used to develop my reference notes and then walk to the Continuing Education office in Helen C. White Hall.  Kathleen Weibel and I talk for nearly an hour.  For some reason, she reminds me of a female version of John Nichols, perhaps because she talks so much?

The board meeting is a big improvement over last month's debacle.  The members greatly appreciate the materials and services inventory.

April 9, 1991

Session #10 already.  During the intro, I share with the class what the rain had done to my sock as a result of a hole in my shoe.  I spend most of the session hogging the airwaves and leave hardly any time for discussion.  Overall, a good session, though.  The continuing rain postpones my plans to walk to the IMC library and assorted other destinations.  While home for lunch, I get a call from Paul.  He's concerned about the content of the evaluation form I received.  We chat for at least 15 minutes.  It's always nice to hear from my best-ever pal. 

The board meeting that evening becomes a bit contentious when Gail asks about the format and content of the vendors report and income statement.  I'm not in the mood for what I consider to be minutiae. 

March 12, 1991

I still can't give myself much prep time prior to class. Today's session is abbreviated by one half hour.  I eliminate the discussion period and practically have to race through my notes to cover all of the topics I want to discuss.

After class I drive home and enjoy a leisurely lunch while reading the newspapers.   After a routine afternoon, I meet with the library board for 90 minutes.  Lorenzo is back cleaning the library and he sticks his head into my office to say hello on his way to the janitor's closet.

By the time I'm ready to go to bed, Eddie turns fussy.  I put him down twice without success, and end up pulling out the hide-a-bed in the family room.

February 12, 1991

I'm up early, but not as early as JoAnna.  Eddie wakes up at 5, and she decides to stay up.  She scores big points by fixing me a pancake breakfast.  I leave the house at 7:30, which gives me enough time to review my lecture notes over a cup of espresso.  Never again -- the espresso, that is.   Session 2 goes very smoothly.  My only criticism is that I spend too much time yakkin'.  I allow only ten minutes for discussion.  They call me Mr. Information Overload.

Andy seems surprised at me earlier-than-normal arrival at daycare.  He doesn't want to leave at first.

The board meeting goes well.  The members react calmly to the news of the cash drawer pilfering  I stay late to type up the minutes.