Ry and Coop Dot Com

There have been many things throughout my life lately that have made me feel old.  I can remember meeting some of Jenn’s private lesson students when they were in 8th grade only to see them graduate high school.  I’ve watched as cousins have grown from small babies into grown adults!  I’ve watched as our little puppy Madison has grown from her little shoebox sized frame into a rather large grey-bearded canine.  I’ve watched as my mile time has gone from the mid 4 minutes to the mid 14 minutes.  I see signs every day in the eyes of my children who seem to be growing in front of me.

All of those don’t compare to this little fact I saw on Facebook tonight courtesy of a former colleague.  Today is actually the day that Marty McFly arrives in the future!  Where are the flying skateboards and how did I get so freakin’ old!

Okay so maybe not 90.. but I think, after a certain point, the clock stops counting.  Birthdays are always a good time for reflection, coincidentally also a good time for drinking cold IPA as well, but I digress.  As we pause to celebrate the passing of another year for our dearest Papa Prutsman, I’m reminded of just how much we adore our elder papa from Western NY.  So, we’ll keep it short and sweet and wish our Papa  very Happy Birthday. 

There are times when life delivers truly “delicious” moments.  Last night was an amazing example of this.  We went to Cape Cod this weekend to visit with my parents and they graciously offered to watch our children while we went out to dinner.  So, while they went out to dinner first, we took the boys to The Sailing Cow Cafe in Dennis Port for dinner.  What we discovered was a really cool little restaurant and one truly inspiring drummer.

//www.youtube.com/get_playerAs we sat down to a plate of steaming hot chicken fingers and pints of whole milk, this gruff looking band took the stage.  After a few songs, the drummer noticed Ryan was staring intently at him, seemingly begging with his eyes for a chance to someday play the drums.  Without missing a beat, the young drummer extended a stick to Ryan and offered for him to come up and hit a few cymbals between songs.  For a few minutes, Ryan thought he was Don Henley!  Ryan quietly and excitedly returned to his seat to finish his chicken strips.

A few songs later, this same drummer offered Ryan a chance to come up and play a song with the band.  Where most musicians have a certain ego that would preclude them from sharing the spotlight, this guy lowered the thrown, cymbals and gave Ry his own set of drum sticks!  He went through an entire song, of which we captured this short video, and the crowd went wild!  A woman came up asking for Ryan’s autograph (to which he spelled it backward) and a few others came from the bar to see this “cute little kid playing the drums.”

I started the search to say thank you to this young man with a big heart that gave Ryan just a taste of what he could do someday.  Even though there was an audience of maybe 25, to a four year old, he was a start!  As Jenn and I walked out, we mentioned to each other how nice it was for this complete stranger to take a moment and share the spotlight with a little boy.  In a sort of pay-it-forward spirit, I hope we can all take a moment to read this story and think what we can do to share a spotlight with someone.  This world is made up of little moments like this one and we should all go out and strive to make a moment with a complete stranger.

As for this young man, I took a brief look at the band’s website but it appears the drummer last night was not the full time drummer.  You should take a listen to this band, 93 North and, perhaps through the power of social media, we may someday be able to more appropriately thank this young man who played drums for 93 North, for an amazing night and amazing reminder of what we need to do to make this world a better place.

I’ve written about this before but I’m continually amazed to find two children, who arrived in this world through the same coordinated efforts of two loving parents, can be so drastically different in personality.  For those of you who’ve followed this blog might remember this post from our trip to Disney in February. This is where Ryan just, without warning, put his arm around some unsuspecting little girl.  To this day I haven’t decided whether to encourage such boldness or not.

Coop found himself in a similar situation this past weekend at Ry’s karate class.  A much older and taller girl, at least four months older) was infatuated with our little baldy bean but Mr. Cooper would have nothing of it.  With brash disdain for the opposite sex he would continually run away or turn away, even once he did some sort of Mr. Miyagi hand swipe but only hit himself in the process.  I say all that to say this.  I do believe that these boys, while different, will develop their own likes and interests and personalities.  I’m really excited to watch this wild journey.  I also think that Cooper is going to make an excellent wingman!

The word risk is described, as a noun, to mean “a situation involving exposure to danger.”  Now, I suppose one could claim that every action involves a certain amount of “risk.”  Driving to work on I-84 involves risk. Walking down the hall involves “risk.”  Calling my dad during the Giant’s 38-0 loss to the Carolina Panthers involves a tremendous amount of “risk.”  So, as I approach my mid 30s I’ve learned to mitigate risk more than ever.  With a wonderful wife and two growing boys, I think it’s my responsibility to do so.  I buy life insurance, long term disability insurance and I stock money away for unexpected expenses.  I try to eat healthy and exercise when I can, all so that I can enjoy these beautiful smiling faces for as long as I can.

There are times though when you have to press the limits a bit.  A chance to feel the rush of adrenaline which is so much more intense than the rush you feel when you realize you’re out of milk and it’s 9:45pm and you’re ten minutes away from a store that closes at 10.  This weekend I joined two friends, Adam Richman and Peter Dinolfo, on a hike up the Trap Dyke at Avalanche Pass in the Adirondack Mountains.  The thrill of climbing, hand over foot, between large rock pilings to leverage a foothold or else falling to a most unpleasant demise was 1/3 exhilarating, 1/3 irresponsible and 1/3 awesome.  Somewhere in that recipe are flavorings of astonishment, awe and I want to do it again.

In the end, this was one hike for the record books. A few great views scattered between cloudy peaks as well as some great and memorable challenges made for a recipe for success.  As I mentioned on the hike, this is one that I’ll have to forget before I can do it again but I know I’ll do it again.

The years since September 11th have been some of the best and worst years of my life.  As I read through the social media posts and messages, it’s been said every different way that freedom isn’t free.  I don’t need September 11th to remind me of that, just as those who lost loved ones that day don’t need the reminders that I have.  To put it another way, many Americans have been touched in different ways by the world after September 11th.  It’s still a good day to reflect but, like Memorial Day, it shouldn’t be the only time you spend a moment thinking of all the sacrifices that have been made to keep us free.

So I give my two-cent lecture to setup this story.  As I’m driving into work thinking about 9-11 and my buddy Tim who we lost in Iraq, I started to get a bit depressed.  Ryan, sitting in his car seat in the back, was playing with my iPhone when he loaded up a Youtube video of Katy Perry’s latest song, “Roar.”  He’s seen this before and, going back to the theme of timing, I’ve been sort of on the fence as to whether he should be allowed to watch the video.  If you haven’t seen it, well, Perry is bouncing around a jungle dressed basically in a leaf.  I’ll leave it at that.  So, Ryan is watching the video and I’m contemplating heavy thoughts of personal sacrifice and loved ones and how much I value the sacrifice others have made so I can enjoy my children when I find myself in this conversation:

I’ll start by telling my mother and mother-in-law to stop reading and ignore the picture.  The Austin family has started to spread out across Central Connecticut and meander further than the Newington Town Line.   Today we explored a bit in Avon and found a pretty cool shopping plaza with a great playground and a Ben and Jerry’s!  Win for me.  This is where Coop-a-Doop took it upon himself to try and climb up the slide.  He failed two or three times but kept trying and finally got to the top.  Beaming with pride, he quickly went down and tried it again.

As I sat there watching my little man work so hard to get to the top it struck me as a little analogous of life. Every day millions of people go to their respective jobs, work really hard to get to the top, get knocked down a few times and try again.  The falls are sometimes harder than others but the successes are really great.  So, to all of you who’re preparing for work tomorrow (or an October without the Yankees) you should remember Cooper’s little challenge today.  Keep climbing up the slide and remember, the falls are all just lessons you can learn to get to the top…. except for the ones that send you to the hospital with a broken arm… luckily that one didn’t happen 🙂

It was probably December 1987 or 1988 and my parents, who were far from wealthy, had surprised me with the coolest toy of the day, Casey the Talking Robot.  I can remember, to this day, how fun it was.  What was most fun was when I pulled the cover off about a week after receiving this awesome gift so I could figure out how it worked.  I didn’t figure out how it worked but I did learn the first lesson, you should never have more parts left over than you started with.  Casey was never the same but I was hooked up pulling things apart.

Fast forward to this weekend.  For my birthday the boys had given me a musical greeting card.  Curious to see how it worked, the three of us pulled it apart and Ryan learned, for the first time, how a circuit is made.  Geeky?  Perhaps…. but definitely reminiscent of my younger days.  They say, if you look closely, you can see yourself in your children’s eyes.  Here’s one of those times, for sure.

It’s Friday evening and I’m sitting on the couch after dinner and I’m watching the boys practice the ancient art of gladiator fighting with each other and I’m thinking to myself, what I wouldn’t pay for a great meal and a few glasses of wine with Jenn.  It got me thinking.  I need to find a babysitter.  I don’t mean need in the metaphorical sense either.  I NEED a babysitter.  I need a babysitter like I need a lung or a kidney (you do need a kidney, right?) or a heart.  I need a babysitter like I need oxygen, water and my Joe Walsh Greatest Hits CD.  I say all that to post this conversation:

Dave: “I’m going to post a plea for a babysitter on my blog.”

Jenn:” It’s not going to help, everyone who reads that lives in New York.”

Dave: “I think one or two people from work read it.”

Jenn: “DO IT!

Anyone have a recommendation.  Serial killers will not be accepted unless they’ve played in the NFL or are really sorry for their crimes.