...





SAM WISHES EVERYONE A MERRY CHRISTMAS......


And he wants you to hear of his Macy's Christmas adventure:

Friday, December 12th: This was going to be a special day. Sam was off to England soon, my Christmas season would thus be very short, John and Desiree had already taken Sam to see the tree at Rockefeller Center, and so Sonja and I decided to take Sam to see Santa at Macy's Department Store.

Now, of course we knew that Sam would have no idea who this fuzzy guy in a red suit would be, and we certainly didn't intend to do the whole lap thing. But, if forced to confess, this was something both Sonja and I thought would be neat to experience, and something we wouldn't be able to get away with if we didn't have a kid with us.

Sam, after all, is thrilled by the lights in the lobby of his apartment (see photo above) building. What would Macy's have that could top that!

But for the adults, raised on Miracle on 34th Street, this was a Christmas must-see.

Sam and I met mom after work. On Friday's she teaches at HBO, on 42nd Street. The lobby was lavishly decorated with various moving tableaux, depicting a variety of christmas stories. Sam loved it. He was in awe.

Christmas in Times Square is always fun, so we joined the holiday crowds and gradually made our way down to 34th Street. We found Macy's. Which was not too difficult since it consumes an entire Manhattan block. Still. We weren't completely sure that we had made it until we saw the monster penguin hovering over the entrance. Should've took a picture. Into Macy's and followed the helpful sales staff into the "stroller only" elevator and up to the fourth floor and Santaland.

Our bizarre experience was about to begin.

The line into Santaland was long, but moving nicely. It wound its way through a disney-like forest, filled with various animated talking trees and stuff that fascinated Sam. There were

gingerbread men,

penguins (didja see the alien kid with his Pooh shirt and laser eyes hovering over our vulnerable Sam?),

magic lights,

freaky little hammering creatures that gave me the creeps, since I was convinced they were going to suck out Sam's brain because I saw Sam's head starting to glow (I got him out of there real fast),

and a giant styrofoam teddy bear, among other attractions.

While we were progressing through this Santasy land, Sonja and I discussed the life and times of department store Santas. We easily concluded that being the Macy's Santa would be the pinnacle of achievement for a department store Santa. The auditions must be brutal. Searching for Edmund Gwynn (he of that previously heretofore-mentioned film), or someone even better. The ultimate Santa. Can you imagine, as a department store Santa, having Macy's on your resume? Sonja and I were starting to get rather excited at the thought of seeing the King of all Santas. He had to be special, for so special a job. His beard and hair would be snow white, and real. We wondered what he does the rest of the year. Lie around on the beach in Miami waiting for December to roll around, probably. We were discussing such complexities when we reached a velvet rope, like the things they have outside clubs to keep the uncool out. Or a restaurant. In front of us it was all dark and gloomy. A Macy's elf approached us, unhooked the velvet rope, and said "Three of you? Right this way." We had no idea what was happening. We could make out a bunch of booths, made to look like parts of little elf-huts I suppose. The elf looked into a few of them before selecting one and pushing us through the door. We were in a small hut, empty except for a fuzzy guy in a red suit sitting in a corner looking like the Santa you might see in any suburban mall. Fake beard drooping slightly. The "ho-ho-ho" of a man wondering when his next ciggie break is coming. While Sonja and I simply stared, the elf grabbed Sam and plopped him on the lap. THE lap, of a huge fuzzy red guy making terrifying sounds. Sam screamed. We almost did the same. The elf furiously snapped photos, trying I suppose to get one in between Sam's wails. I started to take a picture and got an elf-look that warned me in no uncertain terms that Santa would kick me in the balls if I dared to click the shutter.

After a few more screams from Sam, we got him out of there. It felt like we were making an escape, and we hurried to get away, trailed by the elf who was now trying to sell us the keepsake photo of Sam and Santa ($14 for a 4 X 6 print).

Afterwards we thought ruefully back to our naive dream of a perfect Santa. The creme-de-la-creme of Santas. The one we always knew would be the real one. The one to make all our dreams come true.

Instead we got a Santa-in-a-booth. One of dozens.

Later, while doing some internet research into this strange-but-slick (and very lucrative) set up, I came across a wonderful piece by David Sedaris describing the time he spent as a Macy's elf. Originally broadcast on NPR's Morning Edition, it captures my thoughts quite well. You can listen to it (click on the Santaland Diaries link) here.

The saving grace of our trip to Macy's were the beautiful old wooden escalators. They were amazing. I swear, the steps you ride on must have been carved from some kind of mahogany. These photos don't have the sharpness needed to capture this wood, unfortunately. But believe me, after the ersatz Santa, I needed this wood to bring me back to a warm Christmas place in my heart...

Ah well. No matter how fake the world gets, we'll always have our very own real elf.



P.s. an addendum to the Macy's report:

Today's New York Times (Sunday 12/21) has an article on the current status of Santa Claus, and it includes this section on Macy's:

Bill Egan, a Christmas historian, said that his fondest memory of Santa was visiting Macy's flagship store in New York City when he was a child living in New Jersey. "I bet the Macy's Santa Claus is about as close as you can get to the real thing these days," he said.
However, at Macy's today, playing Santa Claus is a job that appears by this reporter's rough estimate to be handled by about seven men. Children and their parents wait in a line that loops through a maze of singing trees, toy trains and styrofoam candy before they arrive at Santa's Workshop, where an elf ushers them into one of several rooms, each of them housing a Santa Clause. When asked how many men were working the job of Santa, a Macy's spokeswoman, Elina Kazan, adjusted her voice to a wincingly sweet timbre, and said there was only one Santa Claus. And he sees 250,000 to 3000,000 visitors a season. "His name is Kris Kringle," she said.
Yeah, that gem of information and a transit card will get someone a ride on the subway. What about all those guys in the booths, Ms. Kazan? "There is only one Santa Claus," she said.
When informed of the Santa sweatshop at Macy's, Mr. Egan, the Christmas historian said, "Multiple Santas? Like a production line? Oh, that's awful. Oh, how terrible. You just wrecked my Christmas."


(so it's not just me being cantankerous) :)

Have a safe and wonderful Christmas, and enjoy each other.

...




We knew we would get a bit of snow, but we didn't know that it would be one of the biggest early-winter storms in NYC history! Sam makes history wherever he goes....

As you can see in the above photo, Sam was not quite sure what to make of all this cold white stuff. What was millions and millions of 'bubbles' to him, seen through his apartment window, became something far stranger. But still interesting. When Mom took him out into the snow for a closer look at these 'bubbles', the snow was still falling quite heavily, and the wind was bitter. Sam didn't complain. Didn't jump up and down and make angels in the snow, true. He was unusually quiet. Mom took him on his first toboggan ride, a wonderful long run down a great hill at an exciting but kid-comfortable speed (Sam's the blur in the middle). At the end of the ride he was again silent. So Grandpa took him for the next ride. After it was done, Sam still had exactly nothing to to say. No comment. Hey, let's see some excitement, young man! Your Mom and your grandpa are certainly jumping around in glee, what's up with you? The wind began to pick up quite a bit so we figured we'd best be on our way. During a supermarket stop, on the way home, Sam was still silent.

But as we went into his apartment building, he made his desire to go back outside quite loudly and dramatically. Interesting.

And then, once he finally agreed to come inside, he started talking a mile a minute. Grandma, the infant toddler specialist (all families should have one around) calls this 'processing.'

So here he is after coming inside for the last time: back to our usual favorite smiley sam.

...


SAM AT THE ZOO AND OTHER MISCELLANEOUS OUTINGS AND ADVENTURES (INCLUDING THANKSGIVING)....................



Sam is hard to keep up with sometimes. I do my best to share his American adventures with the world, but the sheer massive volume of these little jaunts of his keeps me from having the time to post them. I am pleased that Aunt Deb has put some of her Sam-adventure photos up. Mom and Dad are so busy with the boy that they barely have time to view his blog, much less post anything. However, I expect daily blog updates during Sam's Christmas Brit adventures! Consider this fair warning.

So for now, here's a few recent photos from a few recent expeditions. Hey, is this a vanity site or what! You realize, of course, that Sam is going to kill us all when he enters his teenage years and realizes that the entire world has had practically instantaneous access to his toddler years. I was talking with his Uncle John about this yesterday, and what a long way we've come. From cameras to videos to Blogs.... You know, supposedly I can put video on these things. Haven't started down that road, because if I do I'm doomed...

I mean, it's bad enough that Sam has successfully lured his Yank grandma and grandpa into getting an apartment in his building...(one floor down. We expect him to visit us. Lots)...

On another note: today we're having our first snowstorm of the winter. Sam looked out the window, pointed at the snowflakes, and said, very clearly: "Bubbles!"

A few weeks ago Grandma took Sam to the Central Park Zoo. The photo above (my current desktop background, and a great candidate for the 'best of' series) was taken of Sam happily pointing out the ducks. The word 'ducks' is one of Sam's favorites, and thus that particular animal makes him smile. Goats are cool, too. Here he's getting goat food. Here he's inspecting a goat. Note: despite what seems a great distance between small boy and very large goat, Sam was absolutely fearless with this particular beast; unfortunately Grandma didn't get any photos of their intense and close interaction because getting the camera that close to this goat would have risked camera-loss-down-goat-gullet. So here's a simple photo of Sam looking good.

And then there was the excellent Thanksgiving spent at the Connecticut home of Sonja's Aunt and Uncle (what does that make them to Sam? Great Aunt/Uncle? I can't figure out this geneaology stuff), Theodore and Barbara. Sam came bearing a lovely gift. He was joined by Mom, and by Dad, and the rest of his immediate clan. At the groaningly laden table, our small tyrant king of course sat at the head (I can't believe I didn't move that wine bottle! It would have been a classic photo..... ah well, I'm getting far too fussy). Another member of Theo and Barbara's household, Dutch, decided that the only way he was going to get any of the Thanksgiving food was to get it from Sam's face. We all had a great time.

The brilliant Patrick, Theo and Barbara's son, was there. He's still riding high on the fashion accolades he's been getting. Check out his most recent collection. I think he's a genius. Even Sam loves his stuff.

Don't ask me explain this next Thanksgiving photo: boys showing off their toys perhaps?

A family expedition on the day following the turkey, to the Wadsworth Atheneum in nearby Hartford, curated by Sam, went quite well. As you can see here, Sam's relaxed style of art appreciation has strongly influenced his father. Sam enjoyed showing his Mom around, explaining the finer points of various paintings for her. He also had no hesitation in interrupting his viewing for some liquid refreshment.

Finally, as a goodbye to Thanksgiving, here's a photo that shows most of the T'giving gang, and a good photo, if I do say so myself, of Patrick's sister Annick.

Sam has been spending some quality time with his Uncle John and Aunt Desiree lately. One day they made a deli stop. Here's Sam's lust for John's pizza. And here's lovely pics of Sam with the beautiful Desiree.

On a recent gallery trip, to see some new works by a fellow named Howard Hodgkins (Sam thought them quite restful), one patron turned to another and said, pointing to Sam, "there's the best work of art you'll see in a long time." I was sorry, however, that he slept. I think he would have liked the pictures as much as his grandpa did (photos don't do them justice: the paintings are luscious and, as one reviewer noted, eminently lickable).

Sam was awake during a visit to the Children's Museum, though. It was hard to get good photos of the boy that day; he was moving way too fast

And hey, if we're (that's a euphemism for grandpa) going to embarrass the lad, we might as well go all the way. Ah, the joys of diaper changing in Bryant Park, NYC. Sam is completely unconcerned. For now at least.

And we end today's grab bag of photo-ventures with a nice shot of Sam with his Uncle John in Times Square.

...



........................SAM SETTLES DOWN FOR A LONG WINTER'S NAP..........................


Beautifully, peacefully


surrounded by friends, in the bed Dad made for him.

...


FRIEND OF THE WEEK: PATRICK RZEPSKI TAKES SAM TO LUNCH



Patrick, Mom's cousin (what's that make him vis a vis Sam? too complicated for me to figure out), took Sam to the Whitney to see Jay DeFeo's fairly spectacular painting, The Rose, "a massive painting of radiant impasto, built up layer after layer until it measured eleven by eight feet and weighed a full ton". No photo can do it justice, but imagine oil paint a foot thick, slowly sliding down the front of the canvas like a glacier.... It made Sam hungry. Patrick decided it was time to feed the boy:

First, Sam had to get the measure of the man.

Patrick was accepted. Up we go.

However, Patrick is horrified to think that Sam intended to eat without his shoes on.

"OK, already. I've got the bib on, give me some food.

That's it? This gooey stick of who knows what???

Actually, I confess that Patrick found a good bit more, and Sam was very content afterwards, happy and ready to see more pictures

First, for dessert:

a ride

on a Keith Haring rocking horse.

You won't find THAT at Toys R' Us!

....



AN AUTUMN WALK AND A SAD GOODBYE...




Walking with Sam on a beautiful late Autumn day in New York, with Sam excited by every leaf and proudly showing off his brilliant teeth, Mom and Uncle John took their beloved dog Watson on a final trip through the park. Watson was 18 years old, and starting to fade. It was time. So Sonja and John reminisced about the 14 years they spent growing up with Watson, a dog rescued (actually, stolen) from a horrendously abusive home, named Watson (even though the dog was a 'she') because 7 year old John loved Sherlock Holmes. Watson was a good companion to John (even despite the many times John had to chase after her when she would charge out of her country home and tear up the rural streets and paths...), Saying goodbye was not easy. Especially when, even at the end, Watson got so much pleasure from being out in the world, exploring.

She will be missed.


Au Revoir.

---




And Sam hasn't forgotten his Aunt Deborah either.....



....with remnants of his bean dinner still on his face.

And he loved Sonja's birthday flowers. Sonja was particularly impressed with Sam's understanding of their fragility, and his gentle one-finger touch. I like this
picture as well.

...

SAM AND HIS FIRST NEW YORK CITY MARATHON





Sam and the rest of his NYC family came out to cheer Grandpa in his first New York City marathon. Sam greeted me at Mile 18, with 8 left to go. It's hard to adequately describe something like this. I have never participated in anything quite like it. 34,000 of us, 2 million spectators, beautiful weather.... Of course by mile 18 I was a bit tired and hungry. Luckily Sam knew this and gave me a part of his banana, as well as some much-appreciated pretzels. Then while I hobbled through those last miles, Sam and the family rested.

Waiting at the end, Sam's dad was swept up in the excitement of the day. Thankfully, for me, my first marathon in 20 years came to an end, and I got a wonderful hug. from Sam's grandma.

Then we all went for the celebration dinner. Desiree, wise Ben, and John, as well as me and the other old folk found a place that served delicious sirloin steak on a bed of arugala. As usual, Sam is the heart.

Then it was waiting on the sidewalk for the car, with Sam playing with his mom's hair, and with my finisher's medal.












A NEW FEATURE OF THE YOUNG SAMWISE BLOG: FRIEND OF THE WEEK!!!

THIS WEEK.......


******************** Shelly and Sam***********************









AN AFTERNOON IN BRYANT PARK

On a nice Halloween Friday afternoon, Sam stopped in Bryant Park with mom. We didn't get a picture, stupidly, of his Beckham uniform, his Halloween costume, but I did get a quick one of his Beckham hair. I was probably so mesmerized by his expressions that I forgot everything else. Here he is ready to attack....

Who me?

Just kidding.

Grandma joined us as well, and we hopped on a crosstown bus, where Sam caught us.... uhhh... sharing a brief intimate moment.

.....

LET'S GO TO THE LIBRARY!



And not just any library. It has to be the New York Public Library, that majestic Beaux-Arts building at Fifth Avenue and 42nd Street (remember the lions in Ghostbusters?). And why, you ask? Well. There are probably lots of books, lots of maps, lots of old dusty volumes dealing with arcane arts. Giles would love it here. But Sam? Sam was interested in only one thing in this building (a building that seems to be made entirely of marble)

The magnificent marble staircases.

This boy just had to climb every staircase he saw. And there were a lot of them! He didn't even care that the stairs were so high that they faded into the far off distance, or that his shoes were untied.

I found some great depression-era photos and prints.

Sam found more stairs.

Fortunately we had to meet Mom, take a cab uptown to a doctor appointment, take the subway home... If not, Sam would have stayed there climbing until......

At least he has his memories of a great afternoon. And the t-shirt.

....


FUN IN THE AFTERNOON



Don't you wish that you were as lovely as this boy?

-----A half hour in the life of this boy:

Says Sam:

"This is just too too darned exciting!"

"Hey, I'm gonna play with my ear."

"And show my yoga asana, down dog, to dad."

"And play grandpa's guitar.

"And enjoy my grandma's nuzzles."

----Sam then re-discovers Aunt Deb and Uncle Adrian's car and decides to go for a ride, with no hands.

----He gets a friend to come with him:




----But starts driving, gleefully, dangerously fast.

We are all so grateful to everyone for their good thoughts and their compassion when Sam was sick last week. I hope these photos are nice evidence that Sam is back to his old self. I have to say that, to me, it seems that immediately after his illness he made some huge developmental leaps. Perhaps I just noticed every little thing he was doing, so glad was I to see him back with us. But he's now walking all over the house, talking up a storm.... Mary and I took him to the Museum of Natural History and he literally walked the whole length of the place, including climbing four flights of stairs by himself: He would give this wicked gleeful laugh and throw his hands onto the next step, pulling himself up, then repeating it. Hand over hand for three flights. And he was so upset when it was over that we had to go back down the stairs for him to do it again. The stairs were beautiful and wound underneath a giant blue whale. Fishes all around him, and Sam is climbing mountains. There are three photos of the Hall of Marine Life here. In each of them you can see Sam's mountain. I mean stairs.

Towards the end of this afternoon's play, Sam snuggled with his friend.



And all is right with the world.

SAM'S COURAGE



Sam and Grandma were walking in the park and two photographers asked for permission to take pictures of the little guy. Grandma was somewhat surprised since Sam was sick with a virus, and wasn't at his best. Their other photos are here (sardonic sam) and here (love those flowers).

We didn't know just how sick he was. That night he had some trouble sleeping, and breathing. After trying everything Mom and Dad took him into the hospital. By that point he was really having trouble. It was clear that he was having a bad allergic reaction. They gave him some treatments and kept him overnight. He's back to his old self now, but it was scary. Now we have to figure out what caused this. The most likely is an allergy to the virus (coxsackie) that he had.

There was a moment, when Grandma, Mom, Dad and me were in the car going to the hospital, that will remain with me to my dying day. It was the most extraordinary instance of courage, trust, and a true buddha nature that I have ever seen: Sam was having real trouble breathing at this point, his neck muscles were pulsing, and you could see his trachea swelling. And then. This magnificent boy looked at each of us and gave us the most beatific smile I've ever seen...

A CHELSEA GALLERY WALK

Let's go!



Sam decided it had been too long since he'd had a good downtown adventure, like in the old summer days of Central Park, beaches, the zoo, museums.....

So Grandpa and Aunt Desiree traveled with Sam to an afternoon of art gallery hopping.

First we stopped off at Uncle John's video store. Sam was a bit suspicious of the blatant capitalist iniquities going on there, under his very nose. He was glad that John was keeping him safe from temptation.

We met Grandma, hopped the bus to a part of New York, midtown, near the Hudson river, known as Chelsea (not sure why). It used to be a meatpacking area, with slaughterhouses galore. Now it's full of very expensive lofts, and galleries. Visiting the galleries is a great (and free) way to spend an afternoon.

First stop was the David Zwimmer gallery to see the works of a fellow named Jason Rhoades.

A lot of it involved neon signs.



Not surprisingly Sam loved it.

Along with the neon, Rhoades apparently is particularly enamored of Legos. Unfortunately, my camera went on the fritz before I could get a good picture of the Lego house under construction (it took up most of the gallery floor and you can see a partial view of it on the web site link above). It's being constructed of more than a million Legos.

Next stop was the Gagosian gallery, where we met Mom, to see a new show by one of my favorite artists, Richard Serra. It was Serra's huge cor-ten steel structures that we saw at the Dia Beacon, where Sam was attacked by the wasp (see the Aug 31 entry).

It's hard to describe the size of these things. Imagine a battleship in your living room and you have a sense of the material used, and the intense feelings the sculptures generate.... One of the largest pieces was essentially a 15 foot high, 75 ton maze. The walls curve and lean into you, and it's an unusual sensation, to say the least, when you are in a tight space with that battleship-in-your-living-room about to fall on top of you.

But never fear. Sam beckons us in..



I was awed not just by the size and the power of these things, but also by the electric slashes, the welding marks on the steel (hard to describe, but this photo has a hint of them.

Sam takes a minimalist breather. He is walking on another Serra piece; this one a two ton slab of steel placed on small risers on the floor such that when you walk on it the steel vibrates and undulates. A steel trampoline.

The excitement of two shows left Sam in deep contemplation.

PEEK

A

BOO

SUMMER ENDS



Our last family beach outing of Summer 2003. It was a fitting end to an amazing summer: Mom, Dad, Sam, Grandpa, Grandma, Tom (Mary's brother), Kate (Tom's daughter), and our friend Ben (got all of that??), spent the day on the beach at a place in New Jersey called Sandy Hook.

To get there required an hour ferry ride, which required some preparation. Mostly finding the right pair of glasses.

That done, we left NYC harbor, past the Statue of Liberty (you gotta squint, but that's ok because Sam and his mom are much better looking anyway!).

While at the beach itself we were frankly too busy to think about our cameras, but we do have on to prove we were there, and that Sam liked it.

On the way back Grandpa took a photo of the underside of the Verazano Narrows Bridge because that's where he and 30,000 other folks will be starting the NYC Marathon in just a few short weeks.

And again, the family poses with the green lady.

As Sam ends his first summer, it's clear to his dad that this is only the beginning, and that the summers of the future will be grand.

TRAGEDY STRIKES THE LITTLE GUY....

In the form of museum wasp. During a visit to the new Dia Beacon museum- contemporary art housed in an old Nabisco Factory building- a wasp came buzzing down, bit Sam's left index finger.

Sam was not happy.

So on the way home on the train, to soothe himself, he decided to listen to a little music.

Always an adventure......

Be warned: the following medical-textbook photos were taken of a young child in the throes of a horrifying attack from the monsters of rash:

the legs
the trunk

And while it terrified all of us, Sam couldn't see what the big deal was.

Still Summer. Still Sand Face

I can't get enough of this boy's eyes.

CENTRAL PARK and THE TOY STORE

Sam feeds the squrrels,
crawls through the grass wishing everyone were with him,
has his first roller-coaster ride (he's not quite sure of this...),
watches the amusement park train go by,
which he likes very much (while wearing his new Central Park t-shirt that his grandpa figures he will grow into),
and is glad you could join him, even if it's only in pictures.


After the romp in the park, Grandpa and Sam met mom at the giant toy store in Times Square. Interesting place. After only ten minutes in the store, look what happened to him:

Our NYC punk. Still cute, eh?

If you took your eyes off him for a minute, he would scurry around the corner. During one of his scooting expeditions he ran right into dad, who had come by after work to join in the fun. After a day at the amusement park, Sam still prefers the greatest ride of all: his dad.

The purpose of the toy store visit was to pick up a good fold-up Mclaren stroller that will make traveling with Sam on the subway and the buses and the crowded sidewalks easier..... Mom, Dad, and a very tired Sam decided it was a good choice.

On...

Friday
July 25
2003
3:15 p.m.
82 degrees

at...

53 years
22 days
14 hours of age

In...

Central Park (between The Dairy and the Wollmen Rink; mid-park at 65th Street)
New York City
New York State
United States
North America
Earth
and the rest...

Grandpa again gets it. He again understands that this is the meaning of life

While we wait for those 'promised' photos of beaches and bashes......



Sam and Mom. An unbelievably joyful and loving pair. Check these out:

1
2
3

Sonja dropped the boy off with grandpa in Central Park today, for their weekly adventure, and headed for work (but not before a good Central Park food play time).

Then it was off with grandpa on a three mile stroll through the amazing man-made 'nature preserve' that is Central Park. In one week it will be 150 years old, and the whole family will be there for the festivities.

While Sam slept and grandpa lugged (with the sweetest of pleasure), the team ended at the Guggenheim where Sam awoke to some pretty damn fine art. This kid has a good eye. He examined everything he saw, and let his grandpa know if he wanted more time with a particular picture or was ready to move on. His two favorite pictures were a nice Picasso and an impressive Rothko. While Sam was looking at the Picasso, and reaching for it- stretching out his hand in an attempt to touch it, to hold it, to make it part of himself- a young man politely asked if he could take his picture. Sam was ok with this and the photographer got a nice photo of a beautiful 10 month old reaching in delight for a Picasso.

While walking back Sam was approached by another photographer asking permission to take photos. It's getting hard to walk anywhere with Sam these days. You have to double the estimated time it will take you to walk from Point A to Point B because he has a tendency to stop traffic wherever he goes (pedestrian traffic...). People simply stop, Sam smiles at them (well over 80% of the time), and they exclaim how stunning he is. It's not even his looks. It's his presence, his natural charisma. This boy has the big IT.

SUMMER IS HERE

Life gets no better than this.



Sam's first popsicle adventure. Don't you wish you could get such extraordinary and simple joy from a new experience?

(Note how he takes control of that popsicle: 1 2 3 4)

pssst... notice the photo of the sam look-a-like behind our Sam's right shoulder in the above photo?? That's baby mom

SAM LIKES TREES AND NEW YORK HISTORY

On one of his adventures in the last few weeks, Sam visited Inwood Park near his home. It's the last bit of primeval forest in Manhattan and, although we didn't see any, eagles are starting to make their home here.

The trees were huge




They soared above our Sam.



It was good that he had his safari hat on. Otherwise he could easily have gotten lost in the foliage:



And there are few things better than sun-dappled
forest floors, particularly in the middle of New York City!


It's always interesting to follow Sam's lead and see what really intrigues him. In this case it was not the playground, not the forest, but a rock. Not just any rock, though. In 1626, it is said, Dutch governor Peter Minuit purchased Manhattan Island from the Canarsie Indians for a collection of beads and trinkets valued at 60 guilders, ascertained to be worth 24 US dollars. The price was actually around $2,400 for all of the goods paid the Indians. Big money in those days. Around 1640 the Dutch and the Canarsie's wiped out the local tribe of Weekquaeskeeks. The rock, called Skorakopock Rock, is on the exact site of a giant tulip tree, its girth marked by a concrete ring around the rock, where the transaction took place. The tree remained until 1933.



Sam was fascinated by this rock, the plaque, and particularly the raised letters...

He loved the feel of the letters, and I predict he will love the letters themselves when he makes the connection. It certainly gives us ideas when it comes time to teach him his alphabet. I tried to take him away, to continue our journey, and he just wouldn't hear of it. He examined those letters for at least twenty minutes, and would have stayed longer except that the sun was sinking and we had a long walk home.

Awww gramps... just five more minutes here?



You can find more information and pictures of Inwood Park here. Scroll down to the bottom, to the photo of our intersection. I had thought I was the only one who saw the joke. I guess that's not true :)

It still makes me smile every time we leave the house.

SAM'S DAY WITH MOM AND DAD CONTINUED.......

So this is the Mom entering actually, and since my last entry which was a typical day in the life of our young prince, life has been far from typical. That night I remember very well, he awoke with a start to a truly intense bout of teething, which lasted for 4 days and sleepless nights of cutting those now beautiful new upper two teeth. Things settled down we were just getting back into the swing of things when his Dad turned his ankle on the basketball courts. Then despite the limp, we had adventures such as a trip to the zoo and so forth and what happens but my appendix decides it needs taking out which requires a little hospital stay and the present at home recovery time.

But in celebration of the average day I propose continuing that which I began.....

I believe I should pick up at 10:30 am on a lovely day at 100 Arden St., Sam has just fallen to sleep for his mid-morning nap, I set up my yoga mat in the living room as he naps either in his own bed or the little blue bouncey seat within reach of my mat. He has taught me to have a very quiet practice (for those of you who know Astanga Yoga the jumpthroughs and balance work should be very smooth and silent however occasionally a foot bumps down on landing or such) Anyway I do my practice and he always seems to know when I'm at the finishing postures, cause that's when he begins to stir. Very intuitive that boy. So I roll up the mat, he happily wakes up gradually and then we (about noonish) play a little, change the diaper and go and see what's up for lunch. We take our time with meals, Sam having an appetizer of ricecake, piece of cheese, tofu, or Farley's rusk. I make him something fun in his own Sam size food processor, usually a veg, protein source and grain of some kind. For example today he had spinach cheese soy sausage puree, rice cake to dip and organic apple juice in his Aunt Celia's sippy cup. As he winds down his meal, mushing the dregs gleefully in his fingers and splattering the walls with whatever flies well, I manage to get in some lunch maybe even a cup of tea. Wash up time follows very like the after breakfast interlude, and then we start to get ready for the out of doors. This always seems to take 2 times longer than I meant it to, as depending on his mood and how organized I am, it can be very involved to get the diaper bag supplied with the essential bottles,snacks, sunscreen lotion, extra clothes, hat, sweater, toys, books, and of course diaper. Then me with phone,wallet, keys and Sam into the stroller. Then off we go into the wilds of the park. We walk a bit some days I jog a while and then we go to the playground! Sam the now avid climber usually takes a little time to warm up to exploring himself, first he observes, loves to observe the big kids, then after a while starts to try and eat the leaves on the ground. Sam then makes his way to some poles on the climbers, or steps to the slide, or down the slide with me After quite a bit of on-and-off, up-and-down, on the jungle gyms, we're off to the swings. Sam is really loving the swings, likes to watch his neighbor swingers and loves the Grandma game of stopping on a dime and then starting again (with the sign language sign of stop ofcourse), he also likes to go high so his Dad reports. I haven't gotten so brave myself to try it. Then we're back in the stroller to the lawn/grassy area either by the gardens or next to the Cloisters. I put the cloth down and we read a book, play in the grass, watch the squirrels and pigeons, and talk about the trees and sky.

Then the afternoon "I'm going to be ready for a nap soon" look comes across young Sam's face and we pack up and head home, perchance he falls asleep on the way and then I stop and do a little shopping before heading in. Then while he has the afternoon nap 4:30-5:30ish, I clean up the house, do some work on the computer, maybe even read a little, then before you know it Paul's home from work. Those two boys play while I cook dinner or Sam sits in the highchair while we cook together. Then we eat all together or Sam has his first if he can't wait. Usually he has what we're having but mushed up properly. After dinner activities include watching TV, maybe quiet play in his room, or perhaps a visit from friends or family. Then it's bedtime for the boy round 9:30ish. It has been a full day of adventure and love and his Mom is soon to follow for bedtime herself.

Sam bonding with Sonja's wonderful cousin, Patrick the famous fashion designer (go
here, and here, and here, and here, and here, and here if you want to see some of his recent creations) :

And upon wakening from that oh-so-delicious sleep, Sam says oh my god I've heard of growth spurts but this is disgusting..

Ok, who wants to go on a picnic!!!!!




About two miles from Sam's house, a path winds its way down to the Hudson river, under the George Washington bridge. From there, if we want, we can go the entire length of Manhattan on a bike/running path. But we decided to picnic next to the famous Little Red Lighthouse, made famous by a children's book written in the late 1940's. Sam has a copy of the book of course. It's a wonderful story. The lighthouse was scheduled for demolition when literally millions of kids wrote letters of protest. So here is Sam and Grandpa at the actual lighthouse.

Sam, being Sam, was happiest playing in the grass. In this one you can see part of the lighthouse on his left, and see how small it is compared to the "great grey bridge.

Sam was his usual smiley self.

And, too soon, it was time to go.

Great day (as always with Sam).

Well, it's taken grandpa two weeks to finally steal Aunt Desiree's camera and get some new photos. Sam says: "I'm in the playground now and this guy comes up to me. I'm not sure about him, and what he's pointing at me, but hey, ain't grandma beautiful? Oh, it's grandpa with a camera. He wants to see me smile. It's something I do very well, right? Now I gotta make sure grandma is still here. Hey grandma, can you get this booger out of my nose?

Time to do some climbing. What do you think of my teeth?

OK Aunty Deb, It's about time, I know, but I'm finally crawling toward you. Grandpa says it's his new favorite picture, and he thanks Aunty Deb for encouraging him to take it.

Crawling is so much fun. Now, let's go find some dirt to play in, ummm it looks good enough to eat. But I better not get mom upset, so I'll just run my fingers through it.

But now it's time for some real excitement. Are you ready? C'mon, let's go already. Wheeeeeee...

Whew, that was quite a ride.

Thanks for coming with me to the park. We gotta do it again sometime.

Sam's second demonstration was on March 22nd. Two days after war began he joined his grandparents and uncle john along with 200,000 others to walk down Broadway from 49th Street to Washington Square. Sam was a trouper. He loved checking out the crowd. And there was a lot to keep an eye on, especially the cops. These guys in blue were generally pretty good. And like everyone else they were so charmed by Sam that they willingly agreed to serve as his private bodyguards. Not that anyone would want to do anything bad to the boy; on the contrary, Sam made a concerted effort to amputate, via his new teeth, his uncle john's finger. It's true, of course, that going 5 miles in that front pack thingie is exhausting. Food, food, right now! No time to stop and picnic, we're in a march! After that quick bite, John took him over to visit more friends. See the guy with the club out? When John and Sam started walking back to our group, John heard the cop standing next to club man saying "hey dude, what do you think you're waving there? Put that damn thing away." So John brought Sam back to his family for a kodak moment. The fellow to the right of Sam/John/Mary is our friend Jeff Wiens, just about the finest actor Sam's grandpa has ever seen (not including mom and dad of course!). It was hard to know how much Sam was getting, on a deep intellectual level, from this outpouring of protest; how much he grasped of the complex hegemonic arguments. But I'll say one thing: he already has more wisdom than the Blair and Bush war cabinets put together. Think I'm wrong? Just look deep into those beautiful eyes and tell me who you'd rather follow!

We were tired and a little sore, but we reached the end with a satisfaction that it had been worthwhile. Just to show the world that there are a few Americans who think the Bush/Blair war is unjustifiable. Short term gain (Saddam gone) long term pain (America as an ever-expanding pariah, incurring an ever-expanding hatred, on the world stage). I want my grandson to grow up in freedom. Without fear that he will be a terrorist victim someday, or be silenced by his own government(s) when he speaks forbidden thoughts. Sam brings me life, and hope. In these hard days, we grasp at that. Like drinking from a magnificent fountain while surrounded by endless desert.

So Sam wants everyone to have this flower as a token, a hope for a better future.




p.s. after the march we stopped by aunt desiree's famous specialty jewelry store to show off Sam to her friends. Let me tell you, this shop is amazing. What you're seeing is just about the entire shop. It's small. On a tiny street. No name on the door. Very posh and exclusive. And frequented by more celebrities than you could shake a stick at. I figure about half the Academy Award winners were wearing jewelry from Desiree's shop...

In February Sam attended his first demonstration, the 200,000 plus New York no-march-permit march. It was very cold, but Sam didn't seem to mind. Here's mom, grandpa, and Sam before the start of the march: Sam at the start

And these were some of his fellow marchers


and what about this guy

Mom was radiant and grandma was freezing

It was hard to get a picture that showed the true size of this demonstration. This photo shows just a tiny feeder march (ours), which was rapidly growing too large for the sidewalk we were, by law, supposed to stay on. Now imagine hundreds and hundreds of similar feeder marches on streets all across NYC. It was extraordinary. our little feeder march

For a start, since this is grandpa speaking, I will include the piece I wrote to a friend announcing Sam's birth and my adventures surrounding that birth. I hope this will stimulate birth experiences/stories (how did you first hear? what did you first think? What did you imagine? you know the drill).

This friend of mine, by the way, is currently in prison fighting a murder conviction, for which he spent 4 years on death row before it was overturned. Unfortunately for him he was convicted of a crime he didn't commit (even the guy who confessed to the murder says that my friend, Rich, was nowhere in the vicinity), but that's another story with nothing really to do with Sam except that it makes for a different slant on his birth story: Rich was scheduled to be executed prior to Sam's birth, so we got a birth/re-birth thing going on here...

Well, it finally happened! Just call me pappy, give me some suspenders and a porch railing, preferably with a couple of good rocking chairs, and just let me sit and while away the day with my brand new grandson. Sonja gave birth to a 71/2 pound little guy named Sam on September 19th. The birth went just fine. The only real problem was politics and economics: Sonja was supposed to deliver at the Seaton Birth Center, which is this wonderful place run by midwives in downtown Manhattan. John had been delivered at a Birth Center back in the early 80’s, so when Sonja was looking around for a place to get her prenatal care from we naturally assumed that it would be easy to find a birth center in Manhattan. Not so. It seems that there are too many Obstetricians in New York City and they’re all fighting for pregnant women, so they’ve been doing everything they can to destroy midwife practices. [side note: you ever see all those sob stories- I certainly have- about the malpractice costs being so high that Obstetricians are giving up delivering women because they can’t afford the insurance? It’s a load of bullshit. OB’s are making out like bandits] It turned out that there was only one. It was a beautiful place, though. In existence for 25 years, with a great professional staff with thousands of births between them. The room where she would deliver was like a plush hotel room, and included a Jacuzzi. The family room, where we would wait, was also very lush, and included things like cooking facilities, TV/VCR/dvd/video game units, great stereo system, and plenty of space to have as many family and friends as we’d like. Sonja could have anyone in her room for the labor and birth part that she wanted. No muss no fuss. As births should be.

But that wasn’t to be. Four days before she delivered, the Birth Center lost its physician backup (legally a midwife has to have an OB willing to provide backup; in case there’s a need for a C-section for example). The hospital it was affiliated with, St. Vincents, told them that their women would have to deliver at the hospital (where the hospital would get the extra $$$). There was quite an uproar. One of the Board members of the Birth Center is a labor organizer and he wanted to have a picket line outside the hospital of very pregnant women. It certainly would have gotten the press’s attention! They decided not to go that route, and it looks like they’ve found someone who will back them up, and thus allow them to re-open.

But not in time for Sam’s birth. After almost 24 hours of labor at home, Sonja was well enough along to head down to the Birth Center. So Mary drove her and Paul down to the Center, where she was checked out and told that she was fully dilated and was ready to deliver at any moment. That’s when they had to break the news that she wouldn’t be able to give birth there. At least the midwife who she’d been seeing for the previous nine months was going to be able to deliver her, so Sonja was happy with that (at this point she didn’t care where she was going to have this baby, she just wanted it to be over with). So Sonja needed to go over to St. Vincents, about six blocks up the street. She refused a cab or ambulance and said she was going to walk. So it was a true New York scene: this woman, ready to drop the baby at any moment, walking slowly down the sidewalk in downtown Manhattan, chanting (she’s a yoga instructor, remember), and occasionally leaning up against a wall and trying to hold herself together against the contractions. No one on the sidewalk even looked twice. That’s Manhattan for you!

Prior to arriving at the hospital I had been running a race down in lower Manhattan, in the Wall Street area. I knew that Sonja had been in labor for a good 18 hours, and figured she last for another few hours. It was only a 5 mile race anyway. Just in case, I took the cell phone with me. During the race itself I turned it off. I don’t like it when I see people walking down the street talking into their phones, or have to listen to their conversations while I’m on the bus, so I sure as hell wasn’t going to take a call in the middle of a race! I can think of few things more obnoxious. So John later says to me: “So Dad, what you’re saying is that you were willing to risk missing the birth of your first grandchild because of how you would ‘look’ to a bunch of strangers who you would never see again in your entire life.” Yep, I guess so.

At the end of the race I had five messages, detailing the progress of their movement down to the birth center… But I made it in time.

Now, Sonja being in a hospital (scum of the earth) meant that Mary and John and I had to fight just to get into the building to be near her and Paul. John and I arrived about 20 minutes after Sonja got there and the guards wouldn’t let us past the lobby. The guards kept telling us ‘them's the rules,’ (sound familiar?), wouldn’t give us a reason other than that's "just what they tell us; we're just following orders." You can probably imagine my response: hollering that this place was run by a bunch of Neanderthals, and didn't they know that it was now the 21st century and it was time to get their asses out of the dark ages, etc. etc.

I noticed that a few more guards quietly slipped into the room.

Mary and Paul had made it up to be with Sonja, and we were told that only “two people” were allowed in the Labor & Delivery waiting room. So I said that I wanted to speak with someone in charge, and they paged the hospital administrator. At this point Mary came down to get a cup of coffee, and discovered that they weren’t going to let her go back up. I said to the guards that I was going up, and ‘suggested’ that they’d have to physically drag me out of there. But Mary, in her usual wonderfully diplomatic way
(while I was getting ready to be arrested) found the administrator, who was actually quite decent and apologized for their rules and brought us up to be with Sonja and Paul.

And it was amazing. After a very short time, there was Mary and I, John and Desiree, Sonja and Paul, and the newest addition to our family. Who looked at us, stuck his tongue out at us, chewed his fingers while trying to deal this whole strange world. A moment for the ages. There are few things that come so close to heaven.