Churchin'

Since mid-February, we have been attending a church in our neighborhood, Grace United Methodist. It is a six block walk from our house, straight down the lovely boulevard.

Back in February, Kristin had indicated her desire/plan for our family to find a church home. I thought this was stupid, because I did not want to go to church. I am a longtime agnostic leaning towards a bit of faith, with a strong dislike of most religious practices and a strong affinity for the rational (though it's worth noting that I find the "new atheists" to be as appalling in their jackassery as most religious zealots are). It would be fair to say that I've leaned slightly more towards the direction of faith since Malcolm was born, also.

But, as many of us are aware, Happy Wife=Happy Life.

So as a compromise to steer us far away from the evils of Roman Catholicism, I suggested that we audition some churches in the neighborhood, to see how it went.

Our first and last stop in that audition process turned out to be Grace.

Much of this is because our pastor, Mark, is welcoming without being aggressively welcoming. He is friendly for the sake of friendship, not for the sake of salesmanship. This goes a long way.
The congregation is tiny (maybe 40 on a good Sunday), but friendly, and easy to talk to. There are kids and young parents. It's welcoming.
His first sermon was serendipitously relevant to both Kristin and I at the time. That first service (and every one since then) begins with a strong statement of reconciliation from Mark, stressing the radical inclusiveness of our church.

So we've just kept going since that first Sunday in February. In March we had Mark and his wife over for dinner, and it felt just like having two new friends over to hang out.
Last week Mark and I went out for beers, and had a solid three hour conversation/debate about things like nonviolence/self-defense, the role of our church in the community, and other things of that nature.
In his sermon last Sunday, he even shared (without naming me) some of my thoughts on fatherhood and how it changes one's perspective, and tied it into his sermon. I appreciated it.

So that's the newest thing we've been up to.
Lots of Malcolm pictures are available here:

http://malcolmraytaylor.shutterfly.com/

Daddyhood and other observations

Malcolm is now 7 weeks old. As babies are wont to do, he changes literally every day (ok, I suppose all humans do technically, but his changes are very evident).
For example: The boy can really cry now. Before he had a pretty mellow yelp, like his lungs weren't too strong (which they weren't, of course) or that he wasn't really hungry/upset. But now, goodness, he can hit the strong high notes when he is hungry.
And he is hungry a LOT.

He has become aware that he has a tongue, which makes it slightly easier for him to keep a pacifier in his mouth for more than two seconds.
He smiles a LOT now, especially in the mornings which have become playtime for him. As of a few days ago he likes to lay on his back on a blanket and make funny faces at Kristin or me, or stare at a stuffed animals.

We took a weeklong vacation in Tulsa, so Malcolm could get some quality time with his Freeman side of the family and Okie/Kansas friends. He was really, incredibly well-behaved on the car ride both ways ---- he slept mostly, and nursed quickly at various gas station/Subway parking lots, and didn't complain too much that I was changing his diapers by making him lay awkwardly on the passenger seat of the Corolla.
In Tulsa he got to meet his cousins, and his aunt Clare and Uncle Brandon, and see some friends of Kristin's that came down to see him. He played with a four month old fellow baby, and they babbled incoherently to each other.
We went out to the Freeman's 160-acre wooded property in the middle of nowhere, and it was great. Malcolm rode in his sling on my hip for a long hike, and he loved it. Mostly because he was asleep.

We like it the most when he sleeps or cuddles on our chests on the couch. This is when he is at his most peaceful.
He really is a mellow, sweet little baby. He eats a lot and is growing really well. He's gained 3 inches in length since he was born, and more than 1.5 pounds. We think he got even bigger in Tulsa; it seems like he fits into his car seat more snugly each time. And his newborn clothes are all getting way too small.

Today we strolled down to our insurance agent, enjoying the balmy 60 degree weather. He really likes strolling, and typically stares up at trees, or falls asleep.
Like a proper bourgie hipster, I attached the sweet Bugaboo cup holder to the sweet Bugaboo stroller so I could put my New Wave latte into it while strolling him. Luckily my Timbuk2 diaper bag wasn't too heavy.
Yes: We Are The Gentrifying Yuppies you've been warned about.

I kid you not: Our insurance agent was playing Jay-Z on the office sound system. There were Banksy-style prints on the walls. Every employee had motivational/spiritual quotations on the dry erase board at their desks.
And this was at fucking STATE FARM!
Logan Square has officially tipped. Thank goodness we own our place.

We got ourselves some good, solid term life insurance, so that if anything happens to Kristin or me the other person will have plenty of cash to survive on, and Malcolm can be provided for.
Hopefully this is the last "Serious Adult" purchase for a while. Car insurance, refinancing, life insurance, etc.
My biggest concern when I was 24 was whether nor not I could afford the large guacamole or just the small container from Taco Grill on Taylor Street. This has now morphed into "20 year or 30 year term life insurance?"

A change for the better, to be sure.

 Current nicknames for Malcolm: Peanut, Sweet Pea (Kristin's favorites), Malki, Mookie, Malki-Moo, Stinker (my most-used)

Anyhow, he is the greatest. All the shit everyone says about parenthood and babies is completely true.  I really love it.

Baby time

I'm pretty sure that anyone who still checks in here is well aware that we had our baby, Malcolm, on December 8, at 10:07pm. He weighed in at 8 lbs 6 oz, 20 inches long, and is a good little boy.

Random parenthood notes:

*Those fold-down changing tables they have at restaurants and other public places are kind of disgusting. They're helpful, sure, but then you think about how many diapers have been changed on them and wonder how often they use them. Yuck.

*Other parents welcome you into the secret world of parenthood. In the restroom yesterday (where I first used the aforementioned changing table), I had one guy fold down the table for me as I entered, saying "I've got three of 'em, you need every hand possible." Then a security guy peeing said he was having a baby in two months, and asked me how it was. I told him it was totally worth it and he seemed really relieved. Then a third guy came in holding his toddler daughter to change her, and he was very patient as I explained that I was taking so long because Malcolm had somehow peed a circle on his onesie while laying down (while leaving the rest unscathed), so I had to take off his shirt which is a dramatic process for him. Malcolm reacts to a shirt going over his head like he's watching a great tragedy unfold in front of him and he can't stop it. If he was an actor, the reviews would say he is laying it on way too thick.
Two seconds after the shirt is over his head, he's fine. Of course.

*My coworkers bought me the fanciest diaper bag ever created. It's wildly expensive and awesome. By using this, I've given Ben a load of ammo to call me a hipster forever. But is is really awesome. The changing pad is bigger than most, it's got lots of waterproof pockets, and it's a Timbuk2 which means it is indestructible.

*Malcolm eats. A LOT. Just this morning, we woke up from a 6am-8am nap on the couch, and he was hungry. So he had half a bottle of pumped milk, and then a bottle of formula. Fifteen minutes later, he was hungry still, so now he is nursing with Kristin. Dude can eat.

*His umbilical cord fell off on Day 8 of life. This was nice, because on Day 7 it was starting to smell a little bit, and when you are diapering a kicking infant eight times a day it is not so easy to gently avoid the belly button area.

*He shows awareness of loud noises, but doesn't freak out when they start/stop. When running the coffee grinder, his eyes just bug out and he slowly looks around to find out "What in the hell is that sound???"

*The shelf above his changing table, gifted by Mom and Dad and installed by Ken and Dad, is incredibly necessary. As Mal kicks and screams on the changing table, I'm glad I don't have to dig below for wipes/vaseline/balm/gauze/rubbing alcohol/cotton balls/the socks I took off so they dont' get kicked in poop.

*Malcolm was the star of Kristin's office Christmas party on Sunday night. He wore a red/white striped outfit with a reindeer on the bottom, and everyone was super impressed that Kristin was at a party and looking so vibrant only 8 days after birth. Very impressive. I think that going all-natural probably had a big effect on her quick recovery.

*I guess I didn't yet do any birth details. We got into the hospital at 2pm, and Malcolm came at 10pm. Kristin did her final laboring and pushing in the water, and was lauded by the midwives for being the most calm and quiet laboring woman they had ever seen. She was VERY impressive and strong, and I am so proud of her.

Well that's that for now. Just wanted to jot down some thoughts. More to follow I'm sure.

Our best chance to abolish the electoral college may be coming

Currently, our President is running a point or so behind Mitt Romney in the average of national tracking polls. However, the president has maintained his lead in the projected electoral college tally consistently --- in fact, Nate Silver at 538 pointed out yesterday that the leads in EVERY state have not changed since June.

This raises a fun  possibility: President Obama may win reelection with somewhere in the neighborhood of 280-300 electoral votes, while Romney receives more popular votes nationwide (mostly as a function of  disproportional Southern hostility to the president).

Let's leave the teeth-gnashing and concern-trolling for the professionals, and get to the meat of this.

If this happens, it will open up the opportunity of a lifetime. For Democrats and President Obama.

If he wins reelection while getting less popular votes, President Obama should dedicate his second term to abolishing the electoral college through constitutional amendment. (Don't tell Rick Hertzberg, but the National Popular Vote compact is too easily repealed by a tipping-point state. Let's go whole hog with this hypothetical).

The president would give a speech (perhaps even his second inaugural?) wherein he gets deep on us. "We've played by the existing rules for more than two centuries, and they have generally served us well. However, the American people deserve the peace of mind of knowing that their leader has the support of a majority of their country. One person, one vote. Now, if we had run this past election under popular vote rules, I would have run a much different campaign, and I believe I would have received a majority of your votes nationwide. But we follow the rules that the Constitution gives us, and we abide by those results. Bush, etc."

Then he calls on the GOP to get on board this crusade, etc. He goes whole hog.

This puts the GOP in a bind. They are, no doubt, calling the Prez illegitimate since election day, and going to call him illegitimate every day until January 2017. If they DON'T support abolishing the electoral college now, how can they keep calling him illegitimate? He's offering the cure for the disease. Can they say no?

But of course if they decide to support electoral college abolition, they will take away the large disproportionate influence that rural states have enjoyed since the late 1700s. They will be giving away their built-in electoral advantage, for a long time.

Either way, the Democrats win.

AND (the best part). . .. . a national popular vote is the MORALLY RIGHT THING TO DO!!! It's small-d democratic. It levels the field for every voter. It makes voting rational again, for everyone. No more swing states, no more votes not counting. Every vote would matter.

So I'm actually kind of hoping for  an Obama electoral college victory where Romney gets more popular votes. If we are ever going to abolish the electoral college, this is how it will happen.

Ok, I guess God does exist

14 and a half years ago, I was driving on I-74, west, from Indiana towards Urbana. There is a little curve in the road near Covington, Indiana, and a ramp for a gas station.

14 and a half years ago, I fell asleep at the wheel on this curve. With Libby, Zack, and Sandy in the car, I 'drove' through a large green highway sign, and into a ditch, at about 70 miles an hour.

None of us were injured, at all. Not a scratch. We were all asleep until we had slowed down to probably 30 MPH, at which point we all started screaming some variation of "WHAT THE FUCK!!?!?"

The car took about five grand of damage, but we  were fine.

Anyhow, I had pretty much forgotten about that site until this weekend. Kristin and I had lunch at Wendy's in Covington while driving to McCormick's this weekend. Looking out the window while eating my chicken sandwich, the highway ramp looked familiar. It was clearly my wreck site.

On the way back to Illinois today, I was looking for my wreck site once we were near Covington. I knew I would recognize it, the curve of the road, the dip of the ditch. You don't forget things that could have killed you. They stick in your brain pretty strong, even after 14 and a half years.

I kept looking, and looking. But didn't find it. Did they change the landscaping? Was it somewhere else and I was deluding myself?

Then I saw it, about three hundred yards up ahead. The highway began to curve. I remembered it now.

I haven't used cruise control since I was 16, on that highway. I haven't used cruise control in 14 and a half years. From my experience, cruise control can kill you. I keep my foot down on that gas pedal, nice and steady, no matter how long the drive. Cruise control, for me, is a trap.

So when I saw my wreck site, I let off the gas, just a bit. Just to be kind to fate, to pay some deference. You don't go fast on the curve that could've killed you and your friends.

My Ipod was on shuffle the whole way. I've got. . . two thousand songs on it, probably. It was randomly going back and forth, through all kinds of stuff.

You know what songs came on when I finally saw my crash site?

Bruce. "Wreck On the Highway."

Swear to God.



  Last night I was out drivingComing home at the end of the working day
I was riding alone through the drizzling rain
On a deserted stretch of a county two-lane
When I came upon a wreck on the highway

There was blood and glass all over
And there was nobody there but me
As the rain tumbled down hard and cold
I seen a young man lying by the side of the road
He cried "Mister, won't you help me please"

An ambulance finally came and took him to Riverside
I watched as they drove him away
And I thought of a girlfriend or a young wife
And a state trooper knocking in the middle of the night
To say your baby died in a wreck on the highway

Sometimes I sit up in the darkness
And I watch my baby as she sleeps
Then I climb in bed and I hold her tight
I just lay there awake in the middle of the night
Thinking 'bout the wreck on the highway

October

We had our first child-birth class this past Wednesday out in Oak Park, at the hospital where lil' Springsteen will arrive. It was pretty laid-back, and there were only three other couples, who were also cool. Nobody was a hyperactive/worrywart parent-to-be, or anything like that. Our instructor Pam has five kids and is in her mid fifties and funny. We didn't necessarily learn too much on this first class (out of five total), but it was nice to know that the stuff we had already known from books was correct. It's nice to not get super surprised by anything so far.

My office space (at home) is slowly being overtaken by Springsteen's stuff. The crib is in there, as is the dresser for all of his clothes. This dresser is already nearly full, for a kid who is negative-two months old. Impressive.



We finally closed on our home refinance. For something called a "streamline" it was torturously slow moving. In mid-July when we started, our banker had given me a huge list of documents to provide, and emphasized that I needed to get them submitted within 48 hours. This was heavily emphasized: 48 hours. Ahh!
So, like a good boy, I got them submitted within three hours. Great! I was told I was a "gold star client."
Then we basically waited, and it became September, when it was supposed to have been finished.
Then we waited some more, and my inquiries got less friendly and more sarcastic.
"Oh, we're waiting on something from your insurance company. It's been like 9 days."
"So. . how about you tell me this, and I can call my insurance company and get them moving?"
"Ok, good idea, let's do that!"

More foot dragging followed. Then on Monday, our of nowhere, I get an email "You're clear to close and we MUST close on Wednesday."
So, ok, we scramble our schedules so we can close on Wednesday at lunch.
Wednesday comes and they haven't told me how much money I need to bring to close this thing.
Fifteen minutes before closing they call and tell me.
It is triple the amount they had estimated back in July.
Great. One of the benefits of Kristin and I both being non-profit employees is that we are constantly swimming in extra thousands of dollars, right? The bank knows exactly how much money we make, how much we have in our accounts, how much we owed on our mortgage. But. . . yeah, they kind of forgot.
But, worry not, the "closer" from the title company isn't at Kristin's office where we are. He has gone to our house instead. Does it look like a museum, fella? Does it?

Anyway, he shows up finally, we sign pounds of papers, we've now got a 3.5% interest rate. Huzzah. We don't have to pay our new mortgage until December, so we can replenish the money we've just laid out. I'm rather annoyed, still, that in more than two months nobody ever mentioned "oh hey, you'll need to bring an extra three grand to the table. Just fyi."
Worth it, but annoying.


I don't know if there's anything to say about the presidential election that hasn't already been said, but I will say this: when people begin to believe that polls are fixed/skewed/corrupted, it is always a sign of desperation.
There was a bit of this in 2004, when many Democrats were convinced that the "cell phone gap" was under-reporting Kerry voters. There was some of this in 2008, when people were convinced that ostensible Obama voters were lying to pollsters to cover their latent racism.
This year, the idea of GOP loyalists is that every pollster (except for Rasmussen) is intentionally over-surveying Democrats.
This is not possible to do. Pollsters do not call Democrats/Republicans/independents. They call phone numbers, and ask the respondents "Do you identify as Democrat, Republican, or independent?"
If there are more Democrats, it is because there are more Democrats. Full stop.

Another great (I hope) finding of this election cycle will be, I think, the dog that didn't bark: Citizens United. The big fear amongst our side of the ring was that GOP billionaires would push so much money into the campaign that it would swamp the president and the Democrats. SO FAR, that has not been the case. If this continues to be the case, it will tell us that the point of diminishing returns had already been reached ---- at a certain point, more money doesn't do anything. Once you are in a swimming pool for a few seconds, you can't get more wet. 


Oh  man, I can't believe I didn't write about this until now. Josh (Katie McGilll's Josh) and I went to see Bruce Springsteen at Wrigley Field on September 7. It was easily the most fun I've ever had at a concert, ever ever ever.

It was at Wrigley Field, for one. We were on the field, maybe twenty yards from Bruce. The weather was perfect. We had spent the three hours pre-show at Sheffields bar, eating brisket sandwiches and drinking Revolution beer. Again, we were twenty yards from Bruce. 
And the show, oh the show!
How does Bruce start a huge stadium show? With a ten minute musical intro to Prove It All Night, followed by My Love Will Not Let You Down. Dude. You are just showing off now.
When he ran by on one of the stage parts that goes out into the crowd, I got a handful of Bruce-sweat when I went for a high-five.

Bruce and the E-Streeters played for three and a half hours. I did not want them to stop. The past three shows I've been to, they were great, but I was ready for the finish each time. This time, I could've kept going for another three hours.

Ok, take care world, more exciting news later. 

An august August

The impending arrival of baby Springsteen has had the positive effect of making me more active in the home-improvement arena. Not necessarily handyman-ish work, but in terms of moving furniture to more appropriate areas, touching up things, etc.

This weekend we moved the futon from my office into the basement, and put some rugs down on the concrete floor. It adds a touch of coziness to the unfinished, barren basement, and hopefully will lead to it being more friendly to use. House guests will be able to sleep on either the futon OR the bed downstairs. I wedged a formerly-mounted mirror above the utility sink downstairs, so there is at least a more comfortable way to brush teeth and shave. It reminds me of my grandpa Roger’s bathroom in the basement of the Tiskilwa house. There was  a shower with a cement floor, and the water came out near a bunch of wires and metal. It was very cool.

I know that someday we’ll get a proper bathroom installed downstairs, but as we make it nicer down there  by adding some rugs and throwing out old stuff, I don’t know if I care about getting it officially “finished” so much.

I find it’s much easier to get these household tasks done after I do a Saturday-morning exercise, some jogging, walking, push-ups, lawn-mowing, weeding. Once I’m nice and soaked in sweat, I’m more in a mood to move a couch, because at that point why the hell not?

I’ve become a big fan of Saturday-morning runs. I’m not missing anything important, Kristin is usually cleaning while listening to NPR. I like the NPR shows, but not enough to care about missing them.

We had a full weekend with which to operate because we returned from vacation on Friday. A full week in Michigan, in perfect, cool weather, to just read and beach and eat, was exactly what I think a vacation should be about. Very few plans, just relaxation.  We missed Bethany and Jay of course, especially since they would have loved the very mild Michigan weather. I think it was 78 and clear every day. It was chilly a bit at night. Getting to wear a sweatshirt after this roasting summer is like heaven for me.

I think our mouse is still in the house. I’ve been loudly warning him to “get out soon, buddy, because if you stay I’m going to kill you.” If he doesn’t take this warning, I will kill him, and not feel bad about it, because I can’t tolerate stubborn mice. It just won’t do.

Can’t wait for fall. I’ve been writing that sentence for years, and years. And I always mean it just as much. I’m going to wear a sweatshirt, and drink a pumpkin beer, and read my cheesy detective novel out back and get a little bit cold, and it will be glorious.