The Thrill of Victory

After losing or tying in all 7 games of the season so far, Thurman's team finally pulled out a victory in the final regular season game today, 1-0.

Let's just say there was a happy father jumping up and down in the stands that was described by some as "loud" and "a maniac". (Friends of mine, can you tell?)

I'm just glad that when the final whistle sounded, the kids (and parents) had an extra reason to be happy for once.

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To celebrate the occasion, we let Thurman pick a place to go for dinner. He chose Chili's, mainly for the desert. As a "special treat" we let him have his own Molten Chocolate Cake, while the rest of us shared another. To his credit (or detriment) he did eat almost all of it.

The Early Years (Pre-K)

The sad thing about my early childhood is that I don't remember much of it. Well, maybe there's not much to remember. I'll be as thorough as I can for this section given the lack of material to work with. I don't have any pictures or anything, mostly just memories and memories of pictures.

I obviously don't recall being born. I was the first (and only) child born to Robert Merrill Lincoln (1954-2008) and Diane Louise (Martinson) Lincoln (1952-present). They were married out of high school, but the marriage dissolved by the time I was 3 years old. I really have no memory of us being a family together at all.

I was born in Albert Lea, MN and lived there for nearly all of my childhood. Up through kindergarten I remember living in a one-bedroom apartment on Washington Street, near a grocery store, and only about a block from our church (Trinity Lutheran). My grandparents on my mom's side lived in town and were a big help us in those lean years.

Prior to kindergarten, I only have a few memories that float around somewhere inside my head. I remember breaking rocks with a hammer, interested to see what was inside. I remember watching the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show. I remember playing with army guys and Lincoln Logs in the house. I remember getting spanked after stealing a candy bar. I remember fearing the lady who lived downstairs because she was ancient. I remember I slept on a hide-away bed, though usually I'd get to fall asleep in my mom's bed until she hit the sack. I remember dialing random numbers on the telephone and talking to someone. I remember going to the truck stop for dinner/lunch occasionally.

At the time, I'm not sure my mother had a job. I know by the time I was in kindergarten we were on Welfare for sure, but don't know for sure when that started. So, I'm not sure what I did all day. Apparently I was able to read before kindergarten, so I had that going for me. I don't remember having any friends at the time.

Seems like a bit of a wasted post, really. "Greg remembers little before kindergarten." News at ten, film at eleven. But I guess it does set up the background of things to come. 

Ruh Roh Raggy!

The latest phase in the cartoon world amongst the younger demographic in our household has become almost alarmingly an addiction. Sadly, it was as a result of me trying some new recordings for them. They'd seen most of the Spiderman and Superman cartoons, and Carma thought they should have a break from Superheroes for a bit. So, thanks to Boomerang (the "classic" cartoon channel) I was able to get some new choices fairly easily. I recorded some Jetsons, and the Flintstones. Both were received slightly warmly. But then, they watched Scooby-Doo.

They usually only get to watch cartoons once, twice at most per day. Now, they are focused little guys trying to watch as much Scooby-Doo as possible. Thurman loves it, because he (being a bright boy) has already figured out the "pattern" to the show, and tries to guess who the bad guy really is. Nico, his favorite parts are the chase scenes and crashes. Having a talking dog is also a plus in his book.

Carma was relatively happy with their choice a couple of days ago ("Hey, my mom even let us watch that!"), but now is regretting it a bit more ("This show makes no sense, it's completely unrealistic.") Myself, I remember loving the show as a kid. Now I watch a bit of it, and wonder what I was thinking. The laugh tracks, the horrible music, and complete predictability make it hard for me to watch. I guess there's some things you just need to be a kid to really enjoy. My enjoyment comes from hearing them laugh and have a good time.

Weird Lincoln Tales #3: The Evil Doppleganger

"I know he looks like me,

 hates work like me,

 and walks like me.

 He's even got a twin like me.

 My Evil Twin,

 Bad weather friend,

 I know someday I'll meet him,

 but I don't know where or when."

My Evil Twin, They Might Be Giants

This isn't a real trend, I promise. Not all of the Weird Lincoln Tales will be about people who resemble to me. But these two (this one and the prior) are special to me.

Prior to 1998, my real experience with baseball amounted to 1) being somewhat interested in the Twins winning in 1987, 2) being much more interested (i.e. actually watching games) when the Twins won in 1991 (best World Series ever) and 3) wishing the baseball highlights on SportsCenter would be over so they would talk about football.

Then in the summer of 1998, two things happened to plants the seeds of baseball love. The summer of the home run chase captivated me (and now feels forever stained), and my friend Aaron moved in next door to me. This eventually led to hours and hours of playing baseball video games (and at one point, a broken chair).

Unlike me, Aaron had pretty much loved baseball from childhood. Growing up in Iowa, there's apparently nothing else to do. :) But unlike most Iowans, he didn't follow the Cubs, or even the Twins, Royals, or White Sox. Somehow, he became a fan of the Atlanta Braves.

By the fall of 1998, I met Carma, who was also a baseball fan. For some reason, soon after we started dating, I felt the need to pick a team to root for.  This was not very difficult to do, as the New York Mets were the perfect choice. Carma liked New York (still does, I guess), but I could not root for the Yankees (at least if I wanted to keep my soul). And the Mets were a division rival to Aaron's Braves. Perfect! So naturally I had to go get a Mets jersey to pledge my allegiance. (Photo from 2006)

Moving forward to the summer of 2000, Carma and I went to New York City to visit some friends (as yet unencumbered with children we could still do such extravagant things), as well as take in a baseball game. We had previously visited NYC the previous November, but needed to return to actually catch baseball in action. (The November '99 visit- my first to NYC ever- is also the same in which I declared to Carma, "It's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there.") We took in a Mets game on July 1st, 2000, which happened to be against the Braves. Not only that, it happened to be during the first series where relief pitcher John Rocker returned to NYC after his Sports Illustrated interview filled with derogatory comments about New Yorkers.

"It's the most hectic, nerve-racking city. Imagine having to take the 7 Train to the ballpark, looking like you're riding through Beirut next to some kid with purple hair, next to some queer with AIDS, right next to some dude who just got out of jail for the fourth time, right next to some 20-year-old mom with four kids. It's depressing." In addition he went on to add "The biggest thing I don't like about New York are the foreigners. You can walk an entire block in Times Square and not hear anybody speaking English. Asians and Koreans and Vietnamese and Indians and Russians and Spanish people and everything up there. How the hell did they get in this country?"

So, yeah, pretty ignorant and a bit hateful. Needless to say, New Yorkers weren't expected to be very welcoming to him after his comments. The series between the Braves and Mets was a 4-game series starting Thursday, June 29th. In preparation, the normal police presence at Shea Stadium was increased tenfold to about 700 officers. The atmosphere was a bit raucous (as was the media coverage), but yet festive at the game we attended. Part of that could be because the Mets won handily that day, and John Rocker did not pitch. 

It was a fun and memorable trip. About a week after returning home (Evanston, IL at the time) I got a copy of Sports Illustrated (another pre-children luxury), which had an article about the series. On the first page I found a surprise.

Looking at the guy holding the sign very closely...

So let's see: Black Mets jersey, brown hair/beard, glasses, a little on the portly side, and was at one of the Mets games against the Braves. Yep, it could have been me. Except for the fact that I would never hold a sign like that.

However, to test how good a doppleganger my evil twin really was, I emailed my friend Aaron (still in Omaha) and simply told him to get the latest SI and look at page 38. A couple of days later, I got his reply:

"You're a jackass."

Fair enough, I guess. But if my best friend was fooled, than it's definitely a twin. How evil he is is anyone's guess, but I figure he can't be too bad if he's a Mets fan.

The Blog to Nowhere

"We need a plan."- Bylund family quote

I was considering what I want to do with my blog here, and among the occasional rantings, happenings, and comments on everyday life, I do want it to be a bit more. I'd like to actually document stuff. You know, almost like a journal.

At first, I was resistant to this idea. I'm not sure I'm completely comfortable with having such a mixture all in one blog: some funny tidbits offset by long, drawn-out reminiscences of past items I want to dwell on (or at least capture). I considered possibly starting another, separate blog for such journal entries- more accurately I guess I'm still considering it.

However, I'm reluctant to start a second blog. First and foremost, because I'm a bit lazy and don't want to feel like there's added pressure to have to keep up with two blogs. Secondly, perhaps there is some benefit to a good mixture of stuff- I mean, that's much like real life, right? For better or for worse, richer or poorer, with or without cheese. You get the idea.

I guess it really comes to this: if someone were to dig up an archive of my blog 50 years from now, what would I want them to be able to read?

My thought is to just incorporate it all into this current blog. But to do so, I need a plan. Here's what I'm thinking:

I want to post at least 3 times a week, regardless of topic or length of article. Do more if I have time and desire.

I also have several ideas for upcoming posts. I dug through some of my old papers and items my mom saved for me- including old newspaper clippings, report cards and transcripts, and other various items. I want to try to incorporate these in, just because it might be kind of fun. Some topics will include: what I remember from my early years, elementary school life, my acting "career", the Duck, high school days, college thoughts, marital life, and others. Not to mention more Weird Lincoln Tales, Haiku Movie Reviews (if I ever get to watch more movies), and the occasional report on the darling boys of my life.

And lots of bad jokes. Promise.

Soccer Update

Thurman got to play on offense this week, which made me very excited. I fear his ability to run fast was being wasted standing around on defense.

Anyway, the team played very well, but failed to score a goal. Thurman had one really good try at scoring though, but the ball went a bit wide. The good news was that the other team was unable to score either, meaning yet another tie for the Cougars.

Yellow Shirts with Zig-Zag Patterns

I'm thinking they should perhaps change Thurman's soccer team uniforms to that described in the title. For that would better display the essence of Charlie Brown the team seems to have acquired.

Five games into the season so far, Thurman's team is 0-3-2, meaning the have yet to win a game, have lost three, and tied twice. The scores of those games have been 0-4, 0-3, 0-0, 0-2, and 1-1.

Note that their poor team was held without a single goal for its first four games. Their first goal, scored on Saturday, was on a penalty kick (in all fairness, so was the other team's goal). However, when the kick went in, all of the kids (and quite a few of the parents) celebrated as if they had just won the World Cup. It was 45 seconds of pure bliss and pandemonium.

Now, I have to freely admit I am one of those dads. One of the dads who cheer their kids loudly, often embarrassing their wives (and possibly the children too) in the process. Granted, I'm not going to get into fisticuffs with other parents, or start berating the coaches for poor decisions - I do have a modicum of self-control. But I do get overly invested emotionally in games in which my son is participating. I just can't help it. Last year in instructional league, I was an "assistant coach", emphasis on assistant, as not much coaching was going on. When Thurman scored a goal last year, I nearly exploded with pride and joy. I think I was happier than he was, though he was very happy.

Anyway, it's just hard for me to watch them lose. I'm all about learning how to lose, and being gracious in defeat. But you know...I just want them to win some too, to feel the other side of it. As one of the other parents said to me, "I just don't want them to go around with the taste of losing always in their mouth."

You do see it in some sports these days. Teams so downtrodden, they expect to lose. Or as I've also heard it put, "They've forgotten how to win." It takes the joy out of playing. It creates a defeatist attitude. I'd hate for my son to experience that.

So, I do my best to keep things positive. I encourage him, and tell him how well he played. I cheer for him like mad, even if they lose. He'll occasionally hear me, and turn and smile, sometimes even giving me a thumbs-up. So, even if his team never wins a game or even scores a goal, he knows I'm still his fan.

NOT for the Children

So, as a reward for making the *ahem* "Ultimate Sacrifice" for our children, Carma and I have decided to celebrate our (still a little ways away) 10-year anniversary in style. Well, at least in a style as-of-yet not familar to us.

In February (approximately our 9.5 year anniversary mark) Carma and I will spend a week helping clean, restore and preserve the wetlands in North Dakota. Unknown to many in the U.S., the Missouri River is essentially a HUGE lake due to damming, which helps foster the wetlands. But much of it is in danger, as nearly half of the wetlands have been lost in the last decade. We have volunteered to spend a week camping, and helping to clean a portion of the lands in need. This opportunity is coordinated in part by the North Dakota Great Plains Project. We will be serving near the Little Missouri State Park area, closest town is Killdeer, ND- population 713.

I know this comes as a great surprise to many of you. I mean, who goes to North Dakota wetlands in February to camp and clean?

Um, not us. Totally kidding. We're going on a cruise.