The Prodigal Son Returns.

Oldest son, his fiance, and their dog, just returned to the Palmetto State from South Korea (they may not forgive me- well, the dog (in the yellow tote) will- for using this photo of the quite road-weary warriors at left). Davis had been gone for more than two years. It's great to see him. His sibs are happy to see him, too, but it's not difficult to pick up a subtle "what's the big deal?" vibe. Reminds me of a story: In the parable of the Prodigal Son , Jesus relates the story of an irresponsible kid who cashed out his inheritance, and went abroad,  leaving his brother to continue to tend to the family business. After wasting all the money on wild living, he found himself starving, and he returned  home. He expected to be rejected by his pop, but his dad was just glad to see him. No lectures; just a big celebration. Prodigal's brother was not pleased. He'd been responsible, hadn't he? Dad didn't throw him any party. He'd been working his tail off, and he railed about how unfair it all was. Pop tells him he appreciated all the good son did, but not to be so hard on his brother: he was lost, but now he's back home. The parable is widely cited as a tale of redemption and forgiveness of the wayward child, and of God's unexpected and unearned mercy toward each of us. We're all that child from time to time... but we're also the good son sometimes, aren't we? We can be jealous of unexpected, and unearned, mercy given to others. So, cheer for the Prodigal Son, but pray for his brother, too!

Slap, Happy.

Tyler's had a full dance-card, of late. Rather fortuitous that Tyler got his yellow belt, given how the Bishop concluded Tyler's confirmation. Rather reminds one of this classic scene from Airplane!

Yellow.

My boy, Tyler (he's the dude to the far right in the picture at left), has been marshaling his arts, of late. He's been punching, kicking and grappling along (his twin, Taylor, has just started mixed martial arts training. Karl Douglas, he of "Kung Fu Fighting" fame, would be so proud). Tyler started Jiu Jitsu not too long back, and just earned his first belt: a yellow belt. The lad's smart and tough, and I have no doubt there will be a full palette of belts coming his way; but it starts with white, then yellow.


 A bunch of musicians have trended yellow, too: Coldplay gets right to the point: Donovan's brand of yellow was more laid back: The Beatles got nautical with it. Kingston Trio- Gave us the bird. Joni Mitchell put her yellow on a Big Taxi: That's a lot of yellow, right there. Wonder if I missed any?

Putting on his Big Boy Pants.

Remember the Big Boy? Frisch's or Shoney's Big Boy was big when I was little. Shoney's diners are still very much in evidence, but I hadn't seen the Big Boy in years... until I visited Michigan recently. My not-so-little boy, Tyler is doing exactly what I did back in the day: messin' with the Big Boy. Ah, youth. Another benefit of youth is being able to eat a really big hamburger.

Shoot, with lots of bacon, two fried eggs, and chili, I'm not sure this burger isn't actually bigger than the one the Big Boy's brandishing!

The Play's the Thing, Redux

The Lowcountry Players are putting on "Tales and Fables by Dale and Mable" at the Colleton Center in the Boro. Opening night was last night, with performances scheduled for 7:oo p.m. tonight, Saturday and Monday, and with 2:00 p.m. shows on Saturday and Sunday. Three directors for five skits, narrated by Dale (Megan Gooding) and Mable (Janet Princess Taylor). Director Heather Tuten has done a fine job with her two segments: "The Dragon Prince" and "To Tell the Truth". I mention these skits in particular because I'm in the inner-circle of one of the actors (well, inner-circle is not exactly right. What word am I hunting for? Hmmm... Ah, yes: Son. That's it. My son, Tyler, is pictured above, in the dragon suit. He's also the chief in "To Tell the Truth"). Heather has worked hard- as have the actors, and I'd imagine the other directors, Christopher Williams ("Jack and the Beanstalk", "The Rabbit Grows a Crop of Money", and Amanda Broderick "Me Wish". The Dragon Prince is a Chinese "Beauty and the Beast". Tyler eventually gets to take off his dragon garb, once actress Brooklyn Thurston's Chee (also above, together with Vaughn Spearman as her fearful Papa) calms him down.

Daniel Mullin plays a tune between skits. He did a fine job with the guitar, and as Devon in the Irish skit "Me Wish".

Vaughn Spearman is the prince, Strong Wind, in a "Cinderella" reimagined as a Native-American skit in "To Tell the Truth". Tyler plays Chief Glaring Hark, a not-very-nice father of three daughters: favorites his favorites, Talking Bird (Kathleen Vassar Richardson) and Swimming Loon (Amanda Broderick), and outcast Diving Swan (Brooklyn Thurston). ). No glass slippers here, but a vision of integrity insures that the best gal wins the prince in this one. The costumes were lovely, and it was fun to watch. 'Course, I may be a bit biased. (Richardson, Tyler, Spearman, and Broderick are pictured above).

A Fistful of Gummi Bears.

Clint rocked Spaghetti Westerns many moons ago.

Son Taylor just wants some spaghetti. Or maybe it was corn chips.

Teenagers, Redux.

Mostly my job is to represent grownups charged with crimes. Mostly. I do get the occasional juvenile case, though, and it gets me thinking about the good, the bad and the ugly of a teenager's lot in life ('course, I got my own teens, too, so it isn't just work that gets me thinking about teen behavior). I've posted about teenagers before. As a group, they'll drive you nuts. The experts have spilled plenty of ink on why teenagers do the stuff they do. From brain development to risk_taking. Bill Cosby talked about why parents never smile, and Alice Cooper summed it up pretty well way back in 1971 about being a teenager: "I've got a baby's brain, and an old man's heart". Here's your point/counter-point. Alice or 'Cos. Pick 'em.

I'm Almost 50...

What? Fifty-one is almost fifty, right? My darling daughter, Caroline, and her boyfriend, Jay, joined us for dinner last night. In addition to the lovely strawberry cake with cream cheese frosting pictured at left, we had grilled Omaha Filet Mignon, garlicky mashed potatoes, zucchini and summer squash with feta cheese, and a fine bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. I'd say it went off with a bang.

Princess Caroline

I've developed an interest, of late, in my ancestry. I know my dad's mom's family came from Sweden, but I know next to nothing about my dad's dad's family. I've had a little better luck on my mom's side. Over New Year's weekend, I visited my mom's brother: my Uncle Bob. On occasion- and on this occasion- I inquire(d) as to our mutual heritage: the Blackfords. Alas, Uncle Bob has only been able to determine the Blackford line with certainty back, I think, to his great-great-great-grandfather whose parents met the fate that befell an alarming number of my kinsmen: "killed by Indians". With somewhat less certainty, but with reasonable surmise, he links us with the author of "War Years with Jeb Stuart", written by Lt. Col. W.W. Blackford, C.S.A., who was Major General Stuart's Adjutant during the Civil War. I'm looking forward to reading it (once I get done with "Peace Like a River").

Thanks to his (and my mom's) cousin Paula, I already know a great deal about my mom's mom's family. Cousin Paula put together an amazing text tracing several of her grand-parents' (my great-grandparents') lines back to Malcolm II, King of Scotland. Following the tradition of those Celtic Kings, he tacked on the prevailing genealogy of the time and traced the line back to (gulp) Adam and Eve. One day a few years ago, I passed this along to my daughter, Caroline, who told a boy that she kinda liked that she was descended from a Scottish King. Caroline's friend, Phillip, caused me more than a little pain, but I'll always be grateful for his response to Caroline's comment: "Gee, Caroline, you might be a Princess". Well, she's my Princess, anyway.

Happy New Year!

Lady Di's been feeding me a little too well this Holiday Season. Cherry pie with a crisp buttery crust. Yum! Oh, yeah, and my daughter, Caroline, made us some lovely chocolate macaroon cookies (Diane got a couple of 'em, but you gotta know I did most of the damage). Now, what to do about the four or five pounds I've packed on...

Anyway, I hope everyone's New Year is fun and safe.

New Traditions: Taylor

Consider the Christmas Octopus: A blue one's sure to cause a fuss. Octopi are rarely blue, they're scarcely seen by any sailor. Still, azure is my youngest's hue; so this ornament is meant for Taylor.

New Traditions: Tyler.

Tyler's my twin who likes red; "It's better'n blue", so he said. "My ornament's briny, but it's not so tiny. That it won't pinch off your head!"

New Christmas Traditions: Caroline's Ornament.

I've said it plenty: I've got lots of boys, but only one little girl. Caroline is twenty now, but she'll always be my only little girl.

New Christmas Traditions. Part I

Lady Di and I put up a few Christmas lights, set out some old decorations, and bought a little tree last weekend. In going through her old ornaments, I found a few that were funny, in a kind of dark way. My friend, Gale, noted that my "ornery-ments" post was a little cynical. "Get in the Christmas spirit. I hear you bought some new ornaments. Post them". Fair enough.

Diane brought me to Pier One Imports to look at candles last weekend. This is not something I did during my bachelor incarnation. I don't mean I seldom visited Pier One when I was single; I mean that I NEVER during that stretch visited Pier One (or Bed, Bath and Beyond. Or Hallmark. Or any other place where more than ten percent of the inventory is scented candles). Hardee's stock, on the otherhand, has taken a beating since I wed. But I digress... Whilst at POI, we acquired new ornaments to mark our new adventure. This first one reminded me of my oldest son. Kind of goofy, but special. Here's to you, Davis.

Teen Girl Squad.

Among the more bizarre fads to which oldest son Davis introduced me was Teen Girl Squad. You can click on the link if you want, but I won't try to explain it. As my Pop used to say, "if I have to explain it, it isn't funny" (Dad had many ways to brush me off. Sending me to the dictionary to look up things like sesquipedalian was one that stuck with me. I ended up learning lots of useless words from Dad's irritation). Anyway, it's been a couple of years since I gave TGS any thought, and it was kinda cool to see the bumpersticker at left.

Wide Open Spaces

'My baby girl got a new place. You got to love the view.j

Bowled Over.

I've mentioned a past penchant for taking the boys bowling. This is how the Lads and I celebrated several New Year's Eves. Friday night, Diane suggested that we take them out to the Lanes for no particular reason. Sounded good to me. None of us has a distinguished career in bowling. When AndyMan and I were young, our goal was to break a hundred. For me, breaking 100 is still my goal. Diane has an even less stellar track record. If I was listening correctly, she's only broken 100 a couple of times. The Lads are even less accomplished. This ought to be fun. Press the "play" arrow below to watch Tyler knock down a single pin..



Taylor at least LOOKS convincing (until he actually rolls the ball).

We did have some success early. See? There were a few strikes.

Diane rolled a strike on her first ball!

...and she even got her 100 (the Mathews men managed just over 200 all together).

Looks like it wiped the Lads out.

Having a Korea Day.

Last week, my oldest son started what is supposed to be a year-long stint teaching English in Korea. How cool is that? He's residing in Ulsan, in the Southeastern part of the peninsula, rather than in the Capital, Seoul, but I couldn't find any songs about Ulsan.

They'll Get Ya.

Kids. What are you gonna do? You get some "that's my boy! (or girl)" moments; you get some trips to the Principal's office. A couple of months ago, Lady Di and I helped Davis move up to his cousin Rob's house in Greenville. Rob's kids were over, and I snapped this lovely pic of LD holding Rob's youngest. They actually got along quite well, in spite of the appearances here. I thought the picture was a pretty good summary of the relationship between parents and children: we love 'em; we do our best to teach them stuff; we sacrifice our wants for their needs (and sometimes for their wants). And they poke us in the eye. Of course, if you're doing a cost/benefit analysis, then children aren't a great investment. But it isn't about that, is it? Love is its own reward, in spite of everything. I like the way C.S. Lewis (he of the "Narnia Chronicles", "Mere Christianity" and "The Screwtape Letters") put it in "The Four Loves" (and I've quoted him a lot, through the years):

"Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in a casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation."

davis

Oldest son, Davis, stopped by the Boro recently. He's up in Greenville living with his cousin and waiting tables whilst he tries to find something in his field. Anybody need a Latin teacher?