I'm a father, husband, professional storyteller, extremely political, sports nut, beach-goer and wanna-be hiker who's enjoying life in Seattle.
Some of my rants here may offend you, be controversial or crazed thoughts.
The bottom line is that I don't like to sugar coat anything because why beat around the bush when you can just beat the hell out of it.
In a move compared to what North Korea would do, the United States Postal Service has taken our mail hostage. Yes, hostage. And yes, it has been a trying few days in the Elliott household.
The mail was checked on 9/21 and then again on 9/24. Two days. That's all the time the mail wasn't checked. Two days.
On 9/24, instead of letters, bills and junk mail, I found a green slip that said that due to our laziness, our mail was taken back to the post office. It then threatened us that if we didn't pick up the our mail by 9/23, all of the letters were going to be sent back to senders.
A reminder, it was two days. And we actually had to get the mail the day before the slip was actually inserted into the mailbox. Only Doc and a DeLorean could pull off that magic trick. Needless to say, I was pissed.
Fast forward to today.
This morning, it was unknown if our mail was been the basic rights under the Freedom of Mail Act of 1623½. We were told nothing. We were given no notice.
Inspired by President Clinton, I’m traveled to the post office to attempt to free our mail. While I was unaware of the situation I was about to walk into or the consequences I could have faced, I knew, deep in my heart, that I was doing justice.
I was willing to risk it all to free our letters, bills, junk mail and the boatload of catalogs that were probably locked away in some dirty, dark, slightly chilly room. If negotiations broke down, I had a dummy dressed as a postal agent with a bucket over its head in my trunk. I knew that this would only be used if the situation grew grim as we know know civil unrest would break out leading to violence.
Let it be known that I was prepared.
I also took this opportunity to highlight our experience with top post office officials to ensure no other families will have to deal with these vicious acts on humanity.
The strong arm of the post office has gone too far this time. No family should endure the pain, suffering or loss of all that is good in the world like we have.
Others were there when I arrived at the post office. For all I knew, they too had mail seized by the vicious postal carriers probably all hawked up on meth and Red Bull.
Conversations swirled around freedom, liberty and how one guys watch was synced by satellites. That part held us together as the clocked moved slowly toward 9am. The hands of time moved slowly this day my friend.
When I finally got in and was able to talk to one of the evil-doers, I was told awful news. This woman from hell with fire spewing from her mouth informed me that my mail wasn't at this post office. These dirty bastards carted my mail to another facility. To a more "high-risk" facility no doubt.
I quickly ran out of the post office and jumped in my car, headed for the next chapter.
When I arrived, it was just like how I imagined it. It was smaller. Bars on the windows. There was a smell of tear gas and burnt glue in the air. While I can't say for sure, but I swear I saw shredders in the lobby lining the wall. An old lady chuckled in the corner.
This was it. This was the moment. The moment that I got my mail was anti-climatic. They merely just handed it to me like a waitress hands you a roll with your soup.
It wasn't even a large set of mail that caused the post man to seize it. It was just a normal amount. However there were a box of checks and a small package for Zak-- two items THAT COULD HAVE BEEN PUT IN THE LARGER MAILBOX THAT IS FOR LARGER PACKAGES. BUT THE STUPID F'ING MAILMAN DECIDED TO BE AN ASSHOLE AND PUT MY FAMILY AND OUR MAIL THROUGH HELL.
All in all, no one was harmed. The mail was fine. No bills were lost. No catalogs were ripped. But for god's sakes post office, why do you people have to be total douchebags?
Mark another big item on my "must do before I die" list.
While it may not seem like a big deal to you, I've always wanted to see Pearl Jam perform in Seattle.
In 1992, I saw Pearl Jam play for the first time at St Andrews Hall in Detroit. I didn't know PJ very well when I got the tickets, but that changed quickly.
I remember it being a very, very cold Detroit night and I wore a heavy jacket into the Hall. I kept the jacket tied around my waist the entire time and when the concert was over, not only was I soaked from sweat, but the jacket was too.
When the concert started, I was in the back of the Hall, but after about three songs, the energy of Eddie Vedders voice took over me and I was front row for the rest of the show. Despite me being skinnier and smaller than most people (at that time), I managed my own up front.
I remember Eddie's lyrics power-driving into my ears. His voice was like nothing I've ever heard before. His stare was haunting. I remember thinking that this guy wants to kill me as he song "Ten" songs right at me. But I couldn't move. He had me at "Once". Later, he dove from the balcony to the waiting arms of the crowd-- something he doesn't do or hasn't done for a while now.
Later, I caught Jeff Ament when he stage dove.
It was one of the best moments of my life-- top 10 for sure. Something I will never forget and something that will never be repeated.
From that moment on, I wanted to be part of grunge. I wanted to wrap flannel around my waist, grow out my hair, and be anti-everything. I achieved the flannel. I had the hair. The anti-everything didn't stick but I found my way without the angst. It was also at that moment, I desperately wanted to see Pearl Jam in their hometown of Seattle. Little did I know on that chilly/exciting/scary/memorable Detroit night that one day I would live in their hometown.
This past Tuesday, I finally got to see PJ play in Seattle-- 17 years later. Wow-- I feel really old writing that sentence. Has it really been 17 years? It was also the 50th time they played in Seattle. How fitting.
Along the way, I've seen PJ play a few more times (five outside of the concert at the Hall) in various venues. But never in front of their hometown crowd.
Not only was this my first Seattle/PJ show, it was also the first time Kristen had ever seen PJ. To be honest with you, I wasn't sure how it was going to go over. Kristen has always kinda-liked PJ but was never a big fan. She likes to understand the lyrics coming out of a singers mouth and Eddie tends to mumble the words a lot. However when he came out with his "Into the Wild" soundtrack, that change. She started to really like him, and more importantly, PJ.
I was nervous though as she didn't know a lot of their material. What if she didn't like it? What if she wanted to go? Would I stay and take a taxi home? But two songs into it, she was bobbing around and told me, "Now this is a rock concert."
They sounded perfect. Just like they always did. And when Eddie and the boys played "No Way," my eyes filled with tears. Goose bumps started popping up on my arms. My heart broke into a million pieces as my eyes reached up to the heavens. You see this was the song that reminds me the most of the moment when I lost my mother.
I was on my way back to Central Michigan University from my internship at WNLS in 1998, when my pager went off. It was my parent's number with 9-1-1 after it. This wasn't good.
I pulled over at a gas station and pulled up to a pay phone. From my car, I dialed the number and my brother picked up. Sobbing. He told me there that my mother had died.
I'm really not sure what happened next but I do remember crying in my car, alone, for about 30 minutes. Uncontrollable tears. Full on gushing crying. I think I may have called someone at the Barn (what we called our house at CMU) and then needed to drive myself an hour back to my parents house, alone.
Somehow I managed to fight back the tears enough to actual be able to drive. One thing that helped me drive that day was Pearl Jam's Yield album. Without it, I might have not of made it home safely. It helped me steer. It helped me remember. It help me mourn.
The song that put me over the edge was "No Way."
Long story short: I tried to help my mom over the years fight her addiction to alcohol. I cared for her. I lied for her. I helped her. I yelled at her. I threatened her. I held her tight. I loved her as much as I could. From the youngest age, I always remember my mom having this problem to alcohol and as I grew, it just got worse. But I never, ever, EVER, EVER, EVER, EVER gave up. And for me, the lyrics to this song symbolized my unwillingness to let alcoholism absorb my mom.
"'Cause I'll stop trying to make a difference I'm not trying to make a difference I'll stop trying to make a difference No way"
There's also a line in there that says "Ooh, let's call in an angel."
To me, an angel was the only one that could help my mom.
I made it home that day thanks to Yield and to PJ. Since I first saw PJ 17 years ago, they've impacted my life in many ways. But this one is the most important and memorable. They will always be my favorite band in the world for what they've done for me.
By the way, the show was amazing, powerful, emotional, transforming and magical. Just like the first time I say them, minus about 50 rows.
It goes without saying that Pearl Jam is my favorite band of all time and, in my mind, could be the greatest rock and roll band in the history of this country. No other band has ever touched me so deeply both emotionally and spiritually, and made me want to rock out like PJ.
I'm so excited about their new upcoming album, Backspacer, and taking Kristen to her first ever Pearl Jam concert in September.
Will someone please introduce me to Eddie, Stone, Mike, Cameron or Jeff? Please!
I took this picture this morning in the Pioneer Square area with my iPhone and tweaked it with Photogene. I was walking down the street when this boarded up building caught my eye. While a boarded up building is common, a sign sticking out of the plywood is unique. It almost looks like the sign is trying to stay around while the building is calling it quits. The bird was just by chance but it added a nice touch.
Proud papa moments.They're happening more and more these days. At quite a rapid pace actually. Just when I thought it can't get any better, Zakary does something else that makes me smile, laugh or nearly bring me to tears because I'm so filled with joy. These moments are making my day. My week really. Actually, my life. They make my life feel more meaningful than I ever thought it could be. Looking back at these moments, they're really not so unimaginable that the world would stop. However, they are moments that seemed unimaginable to me just years ago. Days ago. And the greatest part of these moments is never knowing when the next moment is going to happen. What's lurking around the corner next? What is he going to say or do? It simply leaves me anxiously waiting for it to happen.
I'm sure every parent feels like I do: that my child is the best thing since sliced bread.
(Which by the way, what the hell does that mean? I mean if sliced bread is THE THING we're comparing everything to, aren't you in-fact not comparing it to anything. Doesn't seem so hard to slice bread. I get build a fire, develop a wheel, put a man on the moon, but slice a loaf of bread? Really?)
And I'm sure that every kid has done what Zak is doing now. Some earlier. Some later. The difference is when it happens to your child, the human being that you made from thin air, it's special, amazing and miraculous moment in time. A moment that should never be forgotten but often is because the next miraculous moment happens so quickly after it.
Four of these 'holy shit, I love this person so much it makes me hurt' moments happened this week; the de-shirt, animal play, the syrup experiment and kisses.
The de-shirt
Zakary has slept in PJ's since he's been born. A few times when it' s been super hot, we've put him to bed with no shirt on. And getting a shirt on or off of him is always a chore. It's never easy. It's not like he protests, it's more like he's too busy for this to happen. So you have to chase him down, catch him and move quickly to get the shirt on or off. And to my knowledge, he's never put on or taken off his shirt on his own. So the other night, we put him down for the night as usually-- fully dressed in PJ's. After a couple hours, I realized that I forgot my iPhone in his room. So I quietly entered the room, grab my phone and gave a quick look over at Zak in the crib before heading out. I did a double take. What? Something doesn't make sense here. As I got closer, I realized that Zak had taken off his shirt which was balled up in the corner. Hilarious. The next morning, after I woke him up, I asked him, "Zak, what happened to your shirt last night?" Nothing. Then I showed him the shirt in the corner and asked him again, "Zak, what happened to your shirt last night?" He laughed out loud. Hilarious x2.
Animal play
Just this week, Zak really started to get into playing with his action figured animals. He'll bounce them around the table pretending that they are walking. He'll also make noises for them. I guess all those trips to the zoo are paying off.
Syrup experiment
Zakary made sure to bring the syrup to the dinner table last night. Dinner consisted of mac&cheese and peas. Two things you probably wouldn't normally mix with syrup. But after politely protesting, I finally gave in and poured a little syrup on his dish to his delight. He dipped the macaroni every time and even said, "Yum" a few times. Who knew?
Kisses
Zak kisses have been all over the radar. Sometimes you get a closed mouth, most often you get an open mouth with lots of drool. Last night though, he gave best little kiss you can wish for and even made the "muh" sound that would go after a kiss. It was one of the happiest moments of my life. So much so, I asked for another one and he was nice enough to oblige. It was something I will never forget. Mark that up there near the top moments of my life.
It's official: I'm now closer to 40 than I am to 30.
Wow. Where did the time go?
I haven't really felt old before until this past Saturday morning. On Friday night, Kristen organized a night out with some friends to enjoy some good food (Zeta Buddy's in Ballard) and then to see one of my new favorite bands, Ha Ha Tonka at the Sunset Tavern.
It seems like just yesterday I turned 21.
I like rum. I like it a lot. Spiced rum is my favorite. Sailor Jerry's to be exact. And this night, I drank a few rums and Diet Cokes. Well, a lot of them. A lot. So many so that on Saturday morning, I didn't feel too good. Let's just say that it's a good thing that Mitch had some grocery bags in his Jeep the next day on the way to golf. For the record, the bags were not used. Now I can't say the same thing about the night before.
25 was fun. 30 was good too.
Cheeseburgers coming up are not fun. So needless to say, I felt old. My body felt old. My liver felt old.
It's at this time I realized that I am getting older and need to cut out some of the things I used to do like drink a whole bunch of rums and Diet Cokes. Or at least throw some water in there.
The chorus for Jane's Adiction's, "Coming Down the Mountain" keeps ringing in my head.
Right now, as I sit here on the couch and type with the Sounders game on the TV and Zakary taking his nap upstairs, Kristen is hopefully hiking down Mt Rainier.
If all went right, she summited this morning. If all went right, she had an amazing journey. If all went right, she got to see something not many of us have. If all went right, she and her crew are okay.
Kristen has been training for this day for months. She's committed herself to this trek. She ran. Sweated. Hiked with extreme weight. Climbed stairs by floor dozens.
And if all went right she accomplished a dream of hers and we couldn't be more proud of her. No Elliott has ever climbed this high. While her Dad has climbed Rainier before, no Elliott has come close to anything like this. Unless there was a "give it all away" sale at a liquor store or a free 6 pack on a mountain top, no Elliott would ever think of it.
I couldn't be more proud. Zakary gets to point to that mountain and say with great pride, "My mom climbed that." He gets to brag to his friends that his mom braved the elements and made it to the top. That mountain will mean something to him different than other kids.
2-0 Chelsea is beating the Sounders. Damn.
I can't wait to hear about the trip. The sounds. The challenges. The crevases. What is was like to hike with the extreme glare off the snow. The view. The fears. The joy.
Hopefully, everything was okay today at 14,411 feet at the top of Mt. Rainer and every foot below that on the way up and down.
