The American Adventure - Vol 16

1 - 30 September 98

If you want to go straight to Vol 17, you may do so now!

...

During the entire first year of being in the US, Tim has avoided going to the Pentagon. Soon after the US go and attack a well financed terrorist organisation, thereby increasing the likelihood of retribution attacks on certain high profile facilities - such as the Pentagon, Tim gets an invitation to visit. He went to talk about some special Navy stuff and, because getting into certain areas is a bureaucratic nightmare, he got to sit out in the garden area surrounded by the main buildings - very nice. Nobody chose to attack the building that particular day so he got to return safely to the Embassy.

Later that week, Kajsa and Tim went to see Saving Private Ryan. It was a very heavy but very good movie. Apparently General Colin Powell had recently been in to see the movie at the theatre we saw it at. Bottom line is that it is worth seeing but don't go to see it thinking that it's a feel-good movie.

On the weekend Kajsa had a bonus day off (due to a public holiday) so we invited Shane and Glenys Casboult and kids over for a barbecue. It was very pleasant at that time because it was still warm and we carried the kitchen table out so that we ate on the balcony. In the days that followed there was a steep decent of temperature - it went from being 32 degrees high down to 18 degrees high in about two days. It was an early fall in more ways than one.

A week later, though, there was a rebound and the shorts and t-shirts came back out again. Later in the month, when Fall actually started, the sharp decent of temperature happened again followed by another rebound. By the end of the month the temperature had stabilised at around 20 degrees. By mid November it will probably be below 10 degrees during the day - with lots of snow.

There are lots of predictions about the nature of the coming winter this year. There are plenty of signs that the winter is going to be long, cold, hard with buckets of snow. This year the squirrels don't seem to be as active but that particular indicator meant nothing last year. There is, however, the fact that the summer has been warmer overall. Given that the average temperature is always approximately the same, we must be in for a cold winter.

El Niño is out of here and La Niña is in so that means that the Artic air mass should come all the way down and meet up with warm air from the Gulf of Mexico thereby creating lots of cold precipitation - ie snow. The caterpillars have thicker brown stripes, there has been thunder in fall, the weeds are growing high and the migrations of birds has commenced relatively early all of which are sure fire signs that there will be so much snow that it will be impossible to get to work for weeks due to the inclement conditions. (Actually I made up the last of the signs, sorry).

You read it here first, it will be a white Christmas here in the Greater Washington Area. (Note that there may be an element, be it ever so small, of wishful thinking here.)

On the day of the public holiday (it was for some very good reason I'm sure - Labor Day or some such), Tim got to stay home while Kajsa went off to work to earn time and a half. Tim used the time to buy a converter for the second-hand Nintendo that we got given (which worked for approximately two days) and to make a short visit to Borders Bookstore. When at the bookstore, Kalle saw a display of self-help books that came with a stress ball shaped as a brain. We have three of these at home, one each for the kids and one that Tim gave to Kajsa. When Kalle saw them in the bookstore his first, very loud, comment was: "Look, there's mamma's brain!" They moved quickly away from the display.

Later in that week, Tim was able to fit a haircut into his busy schedule. Normally, going to his hairdresser is a pleasant experience. They have this great massage thing that they use after the cut and you get a can of drink as you head off (or when you first get there). This time, however, it was unnerving.

If he is honest, Tim realises that he is not as young as he used to be. He has noticed that there has been a decline in follicle population. For quite a few haircuts now he has noticed the increased speed of the process. He has stared in disbelief at the smaller quantities of hair that is produced - not so much because of that quantity, more because it doesn't look like his hair due to the change in colour. There is now the possibility of a race between Tim and his brother Jeremy as to who gets to be completely snowy haired first. Jeremy (five years younger) does have a substantial head-start but Tim doesn't think that this is going to be the deciding factor. To be completely snowy haired, you have to have some hair remaining. It is not clear what colour Tim's last remaining hair will be - he may well get to be follicly challenged well before he is differently coloured.

Anyway, back to the haircut. Tim went to get a cut because he refuses to be in the "comb it across the top and no-one will notice" club. If his hair gets to look anything like that, another centimetre or two gets lopped off. He is proud of his great expanse of forehead. He might get a tattoo in the middle of it saying something like "Warning: Brain in operation". Actually the slogan could probably be a lot longer than that. He is open to suggestions for something timelessly witty. Either that or the space could be rented out to Coca Cola, Nike or McDonalds.

So, Tim goes to get a haircut. He sits there, fretting about the fact that he will have to argue with the very kind and caring Thai barber. "Cut more off, please." "No No No, you look like you got no hair if I cut more off." "I've got no hair! I'm at peace with myself about that. Cut more off!" Despite my best he will normally leave one side a bit longer so that, if I notice it later I might just flick it across and suddenly think "Hey, that doesn't look that bad!"

This time Tim is polite but firm and he gets what he is after - something close to a flat-top, low maintenance, but without the Marine shaved above the ears look. There was a little bit of discussion before Tim cut it short (no pun intended) - "You not got enough hair for flat-top, flat-top for young men, lots of hair. You not got lots, you need long this side, comb across. Look like you very virile man!" Normally at the end of the haircut they might shave Tim's neck (no hairy back but the neck can get a little overgrown if you don't pay attention to it) and tidy up the sideburns but that is about it.

Not this time.

This time it was obvious that some extra work needed to be done. For the first time in Tim's life, the haircutter thought it necessary to trim the hair on Tim's ears. Only thirty three years old and the ear-trimming has commenced. Not only that but the barber stuck one of those little trimmer things under his nostrils (a totally unexpected and quite disturbing sensation).

Nose and ear-trimming.

What will be next - eyebrow sculpting? Tim went into the hairdresser determined to not let the receding of his hairline get him down and left, miserable, with convincing proof that he really is getting old.

Taltarni is a real problem. She is still teetering on the edge of talking, she verbalises a lot but what she says is largely unintelligible (actually she may just be taking after her father here). She is always climbing up on things to pull stuff down. She drags her little doll around all over and get hysterical if "bebis" (Swedish for baby) is not put to bed when she is. She also calls herself "bebis" and seems to be unable to grasp the concept that she can call herself "Taltarni" or "Tarni" (she does know that that is who she is - she just hasn't called herself "Taltarni" yet).

When she is quiet and out of sight it is pretty much guaranteed that she is doing something that she shouldn't. For example, one day when Tim was home with the children, Taltarni disappeared. This is not unusual. She puts herself into closets reasonably frequently and wanders up stairs to unpack all of Julia or Kalle's stuff. She will also go into the garage, open the roller door (you just press a button) and go next door.

Alternatively she'll go into the basement, get a chair and climb up in the bookshelf and pull down all the jigsaw puzzles. Even a child's jigsaw puzzle, when blended with about a dozen others, is a difficult proposition to put together.

This day, however, Tim could not find Taltarni anywhere. He looked everywhere inside. He checked that she was not out the front. Finally he looked out the back.

Taltarni had opened the backdoor, thoughtfully closed it behind her and disappeared into the miniforest on the northern part of the backyard. This is a bit of a worry because there is poison ivy back there. Also there have been these amazing weeds (by far the best growing plant in the entire garden) that grew to about two metres in height and, quite recently, developed berries. Black berries. Tim is not much of a gardener but he does realise that some of the berries that grow naturally in the region are actually poisonous.

One type of highly poisonous berry is called Deadly Nightshade. The berries of the Deadly Nightshade are, not suprisingly, given the evocative name, black. Taltarni was down in the miniforest having a little feast. Her hands and face were stained purple with all the berries that she had been stuffing in her mouth. She was having a great time. If it hadn't been for the fact that Tim had only days earlier established that the plants weren't Deadly Nightshade, he would have been hysterical. Taltarni would have been whisked off to hospital to get her stomach pumped. As it was, he just kept a close eye on her and she seems none the worse for the experience.

Tim is not the only guilty bastard however. One time when Kajsa was the duty carer, she decided to run a bath for the kids. While the bath was running she looked at a paper or a book or did some of those arcane things that she does. Taltarni was a good little angel and didn't bother Kajsa, didn't make any noise. The reason for this is that she was busy. When Kajsa finally found her, Taltarni had managed to comb half a container of Vaseline into her hair.

It looked great. If you want to maintain that greasy, "I don't wash my hair" look, use Vaseline. The best thing about Vaseline is that it doesn't wash out. Not on the first day, or the second or the third. About a week later it looked like we were making some progress in getting rid of it after rigorous daily hair-washes (sometimes more frequent). Vaseline is not the worst thing that Taltarni has rubbed all over herself. If you are eating, stop reading now.

Taltarni is fully toilet trained. She is quick to tell us when she needs to go to the toilet (bathroom for those who are offended by the blatant use of the word "toilet"). We stopped putting her in nappies during the day when she was about nineteen months old (this is on good authority - Kajsa said it was when she was nineteen months, there is no mention of the event in the American Adventure so Tim doesn't have a clue when it was). We tried, for a while, to keep her in nappies at night.

The trouble is that Taltarni normally sleeps as god intended - in her birthday suit. She'll wriggle out of anything that we put her in, including her nappy. At first she would just take the nappy off if she did anything in it. Not a problem if it was just pee but she had been completely dry for a long time.

Anyway, Taltarni has learned that when we put her to bed if she says that she needs to go to the toilet, we will pick her up, take her to potty and put her back in bed. She can string this out for about half an hour after which we get sick of it and leave. Taltarni will normally cry for a short while, notice that it is not doing any good and go to sleep.

One day, while Taltarni was having her afternoon nap (ha ha) Tim went down to the basement to work on the computer. He heard Taltarni cry for a while but it went quiet so he thought no more about it. About half an hour or so later he heard Taltarni yelling out "pappa" so he went up to tell her to go to sleep (often she'll go quiet and spend a while throwing everything out of the cot).

Sure enough, Taltarni had thrown everything out of the cot with the exception of "Tasha" her stuffed Siberian husky. She had even thrown a bit of poo out of the cot. Well not all of it, of course. She had managed to smear the remaining poo all over her body, all over the bed and all over "Tasha". It stank. Taltarni, perfectly happy held up her toy and said one thing "Tasha!"

At this point, Tim had a conflict of instincts. First there was the instinct to grab a camera and record this for posterity (perhaps for use later in life, when the boyfriend comes over) and then there was the more paternal instinct to get Taltarni in the shower and clean her up. Unfortunately the paternal instinct won the day.

A while later, when Tim related this story he talked of Taltarni rubbing poo into her dog. "Wow" the listeners said "That is one patient dog."

Kalle started school in September. It was a big event because Kalle was starting real school, with real school hours and that meant that he was a big boy. The parents got the pleasure of going to an orientation so that we could handle the increased pressure of being the parents of a kindergartener.

The night that this orientation was on was also the night that we were going to see Eagle Eye Cherry and his band in DC. That meant that we were on an extremely tight schedule, we had to get the orientation over and done with, get out, get home to pick up Julia and Amelie, get into DC, find a park and get to the nightclub before the band got on stage.

(Note that Eagle Eye Cherry is Don Cherry's son, Neneh Cherry's brother and that he lives in Sweden and has Swedes in his band - hence our interest.)

Mrs Olms, bless her heart, didn't really understand our schedule. She told us all about the year, pointed everything out to us (here is a chair, here is a calendar, here is the peg that your child hangs himself on each morning), she told us about the educational techniques, suggesting that we label everything in the house (this led to some sniggering as Tim made some rude comments about what should and shouldn't be labelled) and gave us lots of handy hints on how to help our children race through school so that they could be ready to get into four or five years of solid dating in high school.

All the time that she was talking the clouds were building up outside. In the last half hour thunder and lightning started, getting more and more ominous and you could hear people muttering "Hurry up before the rain starts, hurry up you mad old woman!" This was to no avail. By the time that she had introduced us to the 67th class teddy bear (by a strange co-incidence it was Stormtrooper Bear, replete with genuine WWII uniform), it was bucketing down.

The rain was incredible, it was like someone punched a hole in a cloud and the water was pouring out. It was made worse by the fact that we were all dressed up to go out and didn't really want to get soaked as we ran to the car. So, naturally, Tim got soaked as he ran to the car.

Now it is important to note that there had been very little rain in this area for quite a while. One effect of this lack of rain, and the relentless heat, was that the windscreen wipers had begun to fuse to windscreen so, when Tim turned them on, there a sudden build up followed by a sudden release of pressure which resulted in one of the blades flying off Rusty (the estate wagon) and into the next car. Despite the fact that it was pitch black and pouring, Tim got out of the car scrabbled around in the little stream that had developed and, amazingly, found the wiper blade. Not before getting thoroughly soaked in the process. It continued to bucket down while we drove home and for most of the drive in to DC.

Thankfully, when we did get in to where the nightclub was there was little more than a drizzle left in the clouds, otherwise the short wait we had in the queue would have been miserable. The band was good. The food that we got there was very welcome (we hadn't time to eat earlier) and we were terribly overdressed (that is the old fogey's, Tim and Kajsa).

What happened to dress codes. Admittedly we thought that perhaps our style was a bit outdated when the guy (?) on the door looked like the character out of "Hellraiser". We haven't seen the film but on the poster there is a man with nails coming out of his head. The doorman, who could not possibly pass through an airport security check point without setting off every single alarm in the place, had rings and studs everywhere there was any bit of flesh that poked out. Actually, he probably didn't have his eyelids done. He was reasonably well dressed though.

From what we could see, if there was a dress code it was something along the lines of "cover your private parts". There was no requirement to wear good clothes and cleaning them seemed to be entirely optional. Repairing them seemed to be a thing of the past (perhaps they were bought tattered and torn in which case we apologise to those with such good fashion sense to get pre-ruined outfits, saves time). There was a guy there in slippers. Kajsa and I, who wore stuff that would get you into the Adelaide Casino, were oddities - we couldn't even pretend that we came straight from work!

A couple of days later we were able to fit in better at a party next door. Jill had her 37th birthday party with a Great Gatsby theme. Kajsa went and got a special flapper dress while Tim just put on a dinner suit (minus jacket) and tried to slick back his hair. He was going to buy some brylcream but David said that he had some and that Tim was welcome to use some of it. At the last minute Tim rushed across to get some of the brylcream only to find that it was hair gel.

For those who are ignorant about these things, brylcream is oil, hair gel is gel. A person with brylcream in his hair looks like someone from the 20s. A person with gel in his hair looks like a person with gel in his hair. Tim tried to get a suitable look with the gel but it was no good. He ran back home and improvised. He needed oil so he used oil. Baby oil to be precise.

You do not want to know what happens when you mix gel with baby oil. Tim was just happy that there wasn't any unexpected chemical reactions ("Excuse me, did you know that your hair was smoking?") and was relieved to be able to wash the chunky mess out at the end of evening. It looked okay - you just didn't want to be in contact with it.

The party, which was half a celebration that Jill is still alive after facing down cancer twice, went very well and we had a great time. We also managed to get the goss on our landlords from our next door neighbours (who want us to stay as long as possible). We hope that our next door neighbours in Australia aren't telling similar stories about us!

The next day (which was a little heavy going) included a birthday party for one of Kalle's friends - one of the best kind. The kind where you drop of your child and come back an hour or so later. It was even better for Tim because he made an arrangement with Hans (of Hans and Petra fame) that Tim would take Kalle and Max and Hans would pick them up. The only downside was that when Kalle was dropped off, Tim got a bonus of two additional children while Hans and Petra played tennis. Given that it was a Sunday (big paper on Sunday) and Kajsa was at work, Tim just sat quietly in a corner, read the paper and hoped that nothing would get broken.

Late in week that followed, after Tim returned from Panama City to greet a greasy haired little girl (Vaseline is great for that greasy look), he got into a conversation with Kalle. They were reading Dinotopia and came across the issue of meat eaters. They talked about what sort of meat they liked to eat. Kalle likes to eat deer. "One day when we go for a walk, and we see a deer, we can let Tasha go and she can run really fast and catch the deer and kill it and bring it back for us to eat." Tim must have looked shocked at the matter of fact way that Kalle said this because Kalle looked up, looked a bit concerned and said "Not a pappa deer, though, a baby deer!"

Talking of wildlife. It is all back - we have started to see many more squirrels, beavers (which are, according to Kalle, also called woodchucks - it seems that ground hogs are another thing entirely - we don't know, they all look the same to us) and chippymunks. Familiarity has bred a little contempt and we are not as excited to see them until we think about how amazing it truly is. The deer are just a plentiful and we see them regularly on walks or when driving in the area.

The last few days of the month were extremely busy (stretching into the beginning of October). On the weekend we were invited back to Jill and David's (on the condition that we brought Australian beer) for what was described as "cocktails". When we got there it was more like a family reunion, with legions of kids and Hainlines everywhere you looked. David's folks were in town and all the family dropped by. Again it was an excellent evening and this time the kids got to stay for the whole shebang. At the end of the evening, Tim challenged Kajsa to a game of table tennis. His interest, however, began to wane when after a few practice shots, Kajsa's skill began to return and it seemed like a serious game would turn into a rout. Unfortunately, they were called away as people began to leave.

The next day Tim abandoned Kajsa and the kids in order to witness a truly American pastime- a game of football, with cheerleaders and a band, and a big airship (or zeppelin) and hotdogs. David has season tickets and took his son, his tennis partner and Tim to the game. It enlightening, in so much as Tim now has a vague understanding of the game. Throw the ball, run at it, catch it, don't drop it, run with the ball, get hit by a number of really big people (like, ridiculously big). Repeat until someone runs with the ball over the line that the goalposts are on.

At this point the person scoring the "touch down" (which is not touched down, usually thrown down) does a little dance. Then, if the team scoring the goal was the home side, the cheerleaders do a little dance and the band plays a merry tune. The audience gets up and stands in line for hotdogs. The cheerleaders didn't get to do their dance very often. The home team, the Redskins, doesn't seem to be doing well this season. The loss on the day we were there was number 4 out of four. The last game was between two scoreless teams (5 up, 5 down) and someone had gone to the effort of putting together a very large sign which said "MAY THE WORST TEAM LOSE". The Redskins lost, 6 up, 6 down.

Surprisingly enough, when it came to the anniversary of Kajsa and Tim's going out together (8th), Kajsa didn't forget and she hadn't planned anything (at least not to do with other people). This was a little sad for Tim because he was exhausted. No matter, they went out to one of the best restaurants in the region (the seats are made of wood and are not bolted to the floor). Tim had been to the place when he was out with some contractors and thought that it would be a good place to go on a special occasion. This was defined as a special occasion.

The food was, to say the very least, excellent. We both had lobster and sherry bisque and Chateaubriand. For desert, Kajsa went for a chocolate dish and Tim took something that he had tried before. Both were delicious, but, to be honest, Tim's desert was beyond delicious - it could only be described as orgasmic. As a sign of his enduring love, he gave Kajsa a taste of it. He actually let her have two (smallish) spoonfuls of it. Perhaps in the early days of their relationship she might have got more. Perhaps not. Anyone staying at our house, who want to thank us, are more than welcome to take us out to dinner at this place! Oh, and by the way, the owner is an Australian.

The last event for the month was attendance at the sneak preview of Antz. Tim managed to get a couple of tickets (each of which allowed two to enter). We invited Tony Halberg and Shosh Greenberg, mostly because we hadn't seen them in so long (but also because their combined sense of humour most closely matches ours). The movie was a bit of a surprise, very much an adult movie which was immediately obvious when the central character is on the therapist's couch and states " Well, I was the middle child in a family of several million." He is deemed to have made progress when he states that "I feel rather insignificant." "Well done. You are insignificant!" There is also a scene which is reminiscent of the opening sequences of Saving Private Ryan - not exactly what I would like to expose my children too. Still, as an animated movie for adults, it is very entertaining. Technophiles like Tim will enjoy the computer graphics.

After the movie we went to Georgetown for coffee. We avoided the ubiquitous Starbucks and instead tried a little place that, prior to our entry, was completely empty and appeared closed. We sat around for a long while, talking about various inconsequential things and had good time. Especially memorable was a conversation on some Jewish celebration. (For others, Halberg is a Swedish name, Greenberg is Jewish [although as I type this I realise that that doesn't make sense - Jewishness is passed down via the mother yet the name, historically, is passed down via the father].) Tony and Shosh live next door to some fair dinkum Jews (that is, they are religiously Jewish, Shosh is only Jewish in that she was born into a family of Jews) who have invited them over to observe the celebration. If you weren't aware, Jew celebration revolves a lot around self-denial - fasting, not working, etc - followed by a session of gorging. Orthodox types do it once a week for the sabbath and there are other opportunities to do it such as Rosh Hashana and Hanukkah (excuse my spelling but I have seen different versions and don't know which is correct).

On one of the many holy days, Tony and Shosh were invited over and were unprepared, that is they didn't have an excuse as to why they couldn't come. That particular day celebrated the freeing of the People from Egypt and the celebration (post fasting) incorporates reading of appropriate texts. As Tony and Shosh talked about it, they reminisced about how even Tony got to read a bit. Tim made the observation that it sounded a bit like Dungeons and Dragons with the role of Dungeonmaster changing from time to time. This started the boys going and soon they were laughing uncontrollably at the idea of reinventing the Bible by means of the roll of a twenty sided dice. "Oh no, 15, a plague of poodles!" (A bit irreverent but if god couldn’t take a joke he wouldn’t have created us!) Meanwhile, Kajsa and Shosh tried to carry on a sensible conversation. Eventually we left the place which, due to our presence (we are sure), was getting full. We got home shortly before the close of the month (that is before midnight!)

Kalle has been playing soccer throughout the month. Practice on Mondays and a game on Saturday. Kalle is five. Some people would think that soccer played by a small group of five year olds should be fun. The main idea is to get them out there, running around, occasionally kicking with ball, one team kicking in one direction and the other kicking in the other direction. Who cares which team wins? Unfortunately this is not the case.

Soccer is serious. Sporting ability of these five year olds is serious. Winning is important. For this reason, Joe, the amazing good player, gets to play a full game everytime he turns up and lesser mortals sit on the sidelines. Much lesser mortals, such as Kalle (who is cursed with unco-ordinated parents who try to emphasise playing rather than winning, unless it is Canasta) sit on the sidelines more often than some of the others. He is very keen but he is there to have fun and he is substantially smaller than most of the others and it drives Tim insane that this is regarded as important by the coach of an under 6 team.

At least when Kalle’s team was losing the coach was yelling out "That’s ok, Jedis. Well done Reds!" (Kalle is in the Green Jedis). Unfortunately, the other team was running around doing high fives every time they scored a goal as if they had scored the winning goal in the World Cup. So much for the standard "It is all about having fun and doing your best!" At the end of that particular game Kalle was far more philosophical than he had been after he saw his father beaten on the volleyball court! No crying fits. Tim tried to say that neither team won or lost, they all had a good time and that was what counted. Kalle was having none of this, despite a substantial inflation of his side’s scores (from one goal to four), he was certain that his team lost and seemd happy enough that his team might win next week.

In the middle of the month there was a lot of excitement over some people playing tennis. Strangely, it started to get quiet as the Finals approached, with the games eventually not being mentioned at all. Apparently some foreigners had the audacity to take over the competition and two of them from some penal colony competed for the cup. There was some revenge exacted on these upstarts though, the exchange rate began to worsen at around that time so that the Australian dollar got down to about 58c to the US dollar. We were getting $US100 or so less in our pay which certainly didn't help at a time when one of our tenants was not paying his rent (we eventually had to evict him).

Towards the end of the month we noticed that pumpkins had started to arrive, more than a month away from Halloween. Also the merchandise has started to hit the shelves. The commercialism of everything here is amazing (and rather depressing). But enough of that. There is sure to be a mention or two of Halloween in the next chapter.