Happy Halloween!

By the looks of it, you might think we're celebrating Christmas early. Actually, Park is going as Toy Boy this year. For those of you who didn't grow up watching Santa's Workshop and counting down the days until Christmas with Toy Boy (Santa's little helper), here's an old episode for a little reference.

Working to become the Switzerland of air travel.

I'll be the first to admit that flying across the country to attend a concert last week was probably a bit ridiculous … don't get me wrong, I would (and probably will) do it again, but it probably wasn't what most people would constitute as a completely "necessary" trip.

Recognizing that, I did some research into what it would take to ensure that our little excursion had as little of an impact on the environment as possible. Ultimately my research led me to purchase carbon credits for Carrie, Park and I as well as Carrie's parents who were flying out to meet us. For those of you who don't know, carbon credits are intangible products that differ in price depending on your activity (in this case, where we were traveling and how we were getting there) and the money generated by their sale goes toward a venture that either reduces carbon dioxide in the environment or produces a clean, alternative form of energy. There are a ton of companies out there offering these services, but for me, it was important to find one that was non-profit, certified and overseen by a third-party regulatory organization.

Based on this, I came up with two great options:

CarbonFund.org

Native Energy

Both met all of my criteria, plus they each worked with companies I respect and were endorsed by organizations such as the Sierra Club.

I ended up going with CarbonFund.org, simply because their Web site was a little easier to navigate, but I recommend checking out Native Energy due to the fact that their work is supporting a wind power project right here in Greensburg.

So how much did this all cost?

A whopping $18.

Seems like a small price to pay.

Give Peas a Chance

No Lie on the Horizon

Tuesday night marked the fifth time Carrie and I have seen U2 in concert together (I saw them one additional time back in high school). And like all of the concerts that had come before, we hit the road—or in this case, the sky—to see them, traveling all of the way to Phoenix. We were pretty excited, but had some mixed emotions going into the show due to the fact that it was a stadium concert rather than the arena shows we generally prefer. However, the U2 360 tour promised enough bells and whistles to make it all worth while.

The area around the arena was in full party mode by the time we got there about 5 p.m. and began looking for a place to eat, so much so, that every restaurant and club had a line 50 to 75 people deep just waiting to get in. Carrie, having been through this process with me five times before, knew getting me to actually STAND STILL before a U2 show (and be happy about it) probably wasn't in the cards, and recommended we just head on over to the arena and pick something up there.

It was as soon as we walked into The University of Phoenix Arena (that's right, an online college has a football arena), that I first started to feel a bit deflated. Like they had to do in the new Dallas Cowboys Stadium and I suspect several others out there, the band was forced to scale down their stage just to get it to fit in the stadium, which meant goodbye to a couple of bells and so long to a few whistles. Granted these were things most people would never have noticed, but I'm probably not most people when it comes to concerts and especially not when the concert involves U2. On the bright side, the seats were good and we had plenty of time to people watch which mostly resulted in Carrie feeling under dressed because she left her sequined corset back at the hotel.

Things continued on an upswing during the Black Eyed Peas set. While Carrie and Park are obviously fans, I was pretty ambivalent going into their performance, however I have to say that they completely kicked ass. Out of all of the opening acts I have seen just with U2 (which includes No Doubt, Garbage and Bjork) they were by far the best and it isn't even close. So, it goes without saying that they did their job, because I was totally back in the zone.

After about 30 or 45 minutes, the lights dimmed and it was show time and I know this is going to be hard for anyone who knows me to believe, but it was a disappointment almost right from the start. Don't get me wrong, it was a good show … and worth the money, but it just wasn't on the same level of other shows I have seen. Basically, it just didn't have the spark. It was virtually lifeless and formulaic. There were even some fumbled songs.

Since the show, Carrie and I have come up with the following reasons why we felt the show fell flat.

1) The arena. Not only did it not provide the intimacy needed for a U2 show, it allowed room for a lot of people who normally wouldn't go to see the band—and sometimes those curiosity seekers can suck the life out of a room.

2) We've been to too many shows. U2 has been accused of being too predictable live and I think by this time in our journey as fans it has begun to affect the experience.

3) Our past experiences. Let's face it, we're spoiled. The last concert we went to was on my 30th birthday and we spent the entire evening in the front row personally interacting with the band. It's hard to top that.

4) We just weren't up for it—literally The two hour time difference had really been playing havoc with our schedules. For me, it meant getting up around 4:30 a.m., working out around 5:30 a.m. and going to bed by 8 p.m. So by the time the concert started after nine, we were already wiped out.

And I left this one for last, simply because I don't want to believe it's true.

5) The band is past its prime. It's bound to happen sometime, maybe this is it. The last album was less than what I had hoped for and now they failed to deliver live. Maybe they just can't break new ground like they have time and time before in the past. I hope I'm wrong.

Of course, there's also the chance that this is all just us. Reviews have been outstanding (even the Phoenix paper gave a positive review following our show) and others of you have told us how great you thought the show was. And I really hope it was. To us, it just didn't have the magic of ZooTV, the religious experience of Elevation, the spectacle of Pop Mart and the power of Vertigo.

But after having said all of that, even a marginal U2 show is still a U2 show and probably better than anything else out there.

People of the YMCA

Evidently, I'm under insured when it comes to life insurance. At least that's the conclusion I came to when Carrie put the Kibosh on my pre-dawn runs a couple of weeks ago. At first, I thought I could quiet her concerns by wearing Zoe's blinking, bone-shaped dog tag, but it didn't take. Then it started getting cold. Really cold, the kind of cold that freezes a line of snot from your nose to the back of your neck and makes a grown man voluntarily wear tights in public.

It was at this point that I reconsidered her obvious pleas of love.

However, with the treadmill in need of a new motherboard, my surrender to Carrie's emotions meant frequent dips for me into the vile melting pot that is the YMCA.

I know, I know, I've already posted about this, but having been inspired by www.peopleofwalmart.com I've decided to expand on my YMCA observations in greater detail. However unlike peopleofwalmart.com, I will not be including actual photos of the people I'm mentioning for the simple fact that most of them were lifting heavy objects and, truth be told, I'm not really that fast. So that said, here are some of the people I have seen over the past couple of weeks.

Jon Gosselin on roids
There's actually a couple of these guys at the Y every morning I'm there, each decked out in glittery Ed Hardy T-shirts and matching jackets, MMA "Tap Out" shorts and patent leather Air Jordan's. Their ages are undeterminable given their receding hairlines and leathery fake-baked skin but I would guess they're each pushing 40. Luckily I'm able to view this wrecking crew from behind a wall of glass that separates the track from the weight room, otherwise I'm sure I'd be overcome by the odor of Axe body spray.

The Hanger-on
Even sadder than the ultimate fighters (or as they're known around the office, "the chamois boys") is the guy that follows them around the gym. Looking like Steve Bartman's older brother, this guy rocks a tucked in turtleneck and I have yet to see him left a weight—however he does seem to get in plenty of deep knee bends as he kisses these guys' heavily tattooed asses (I'm assuming they're heavily tattooed based on their arms and necks alone, no visual confirmation needed).

Mr. Pec Dec
No matter when I go to the Y, there's always a guy like this, and upon further thought, it's probably the same guy. He's the one who spends the entire time on one machine, yet like The Hanger-on, never manages to lift a single weight. He's generally an African-American man in his mid 60s, about 75 pounds overweight and more often than not has a toothpick percariously hanging out of one side of his mouth. From the best I can determine his sole reason for being at the gym is to socialize with the ladies and give himself a reason to say "at least I worked out today" when he opens his third box of Little Debbie Swiss Cakes.

Holy Strollers
As the old poster so eloquently stated, the "C" in YMCA doesn't stand for cussing. That said, you tend to get a lot of religious types at the Y. Today, I was joined on the track by two Mennonite women who, after walking several laps kicked it up a couple of notches to a slow jog, their homemade, ankle-length floral skirts flapping wildly behind them. Unfortunately I never got close enough to hear what they were listening to on their iPods … hey, wait a minute.

The White Ghost
No visit to a YMCA is complete without catching a group of over-the-hill white guys playing pick up basketball like it's game seven of the NBA finals. And while they come in all shapes and sizes, they generally share at least a few of these common attributes 1) a goatee 2) at least one form of knee brace 3) shorts made from sweatpants material 4) uncontrollable anger. The group at the Y I go to even come with their own practice jerseys so that they can differentiate team members without having to expose their hairy moobs.

And last but not least.

Grandma Huxtable
It's not always a woman, but walk into any YMCA in the country and you'll find old people working out in their street clothes. Today's sighting consisted of a kindly octogenarian working out in a Mayan inspired fleece sweater and powder-blue sailor hat. But my all-time favorite is a guy I used to see every weekend who looked exactly like Izzy Mandelbaum from Seinfeld—plain white v-neck undershirt drenched in sweat, terrycloth headband and pleated khaki shorts.

Crib Notes: Month 5

It's hard to believe that Park is five months old. What's crazier is that we haven't screwed him up yet (at least that we can tell). In fact, we're feeling more confident in our parenting skills every day ... until he throws the next curve ball at us like teething or an ear infection. But we'll figure that out one baby step at a time.

Over the last month, Park has continued to entertain us with his squeals and endearing smiles. He's gaining more coordination with his hands and has discovered that his fingers are pretty tasty. But if I had to sum up the last month in one word, it would be "sleep." I shared my gratitude for Dr. Ferber and his get-to-sleep technique in an earlier blog post, and I'm happy to report that not only is the night time sleeping going well, but Park has now mastered going down for naps without a single whimper. He's also a pro at the early morning nap. Now we're just working on getting the afternoon nap a little longer so he's not so cranky pre-bedtime.



This last month included some new forms of entertainment, too. We took Park to the Ulrich Museum of Art on WSU's campus to see the robot exhibit that's currently there. Coincidentally, there was a carnival on campus at the same time -- too bad he wasn't old enough for a funnel cake. We also visited the Deanna Rose Children's Farm during a recent trip to Kansas City. This was amazing and definitely something he'll enjoy as he gets a little older.



For Park's five month birthday, we finally introduced him to the Sedgwick County Zoo. We timed it just right that we got to get close to the giraffes for a feeding and watch one of the hippos plunge into the water.





To see more from month five, check out Craig's photography gallery (password is Luka). In the meantime, come back soon to share our six month adventures. Some highlights: solids, a trip to Phoenix and Halloween!