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Our house has discovered a new cable channel -- Hub TV (formerly Discovery Kids). The network plays kids shows during the day, then switches over to family-friendly sitcoms like "The Wonder Years" and "Family Ties," and it has even brought back a classic from the 1960s: "Batman." Not the animated series, not "Superfriends," but the live-action "Batman" starring Adam West. I used to watch "Batman" almost religiously in my early grade school years, on Ch. 32 in Chicago. One story would be split up into two episodes, with Batman and Robin in mortal peril at the end of the first episode, then escaping and solving the crime in the second. Since I discovered Hub, I've been DVRing "Batman" episodes and watching them with Eldest. The series is good fun. They aren't really that violent (compared with some kids shows today) and are nowhere near as dark as the actual Batman is supposed to be. But Elder is already catch...

After blogging about the Jazz game this week, I started thinking about my first NBA game. Like Eldest, I was a first-grader who was just starting to seriously like basketball. My dad was a big Bulls fan, and that season, the Bulls were good, with Norm Van Lier, John Mengelt, Norm Van Lier and 7-foot-2 Artis Gilmore on the roster. I don't remember much of the game -- who won, who lost, where we sat, and so on. What I remember most was Chicago Stadium itself, especially the big hanging scoreboard overseeing the court. Lights from the bottom of the scoreboard lit up the court and provided a bright center to an otherwise dim stadium. The players' numbers were displayed as well as other key stats, and I was intrigued by the billboard ads rotating rotisserie style on the bottom sides of the contraption (this was before stadiums started putting Jumbotrons on scoreboards). The scoreboard was larger than life, at least for a 6-year-old, and dominated my focus, even after the game start...

I recently posted about buying new baseball cards for the boys and me. I also theorized buying the 1977 Topps set, the first year I collected baseball cards. I took that first step. A complete 1977 set on eBay isn't cheap, so instead, I bought a lot of about 200 cards. I got a good deal on the lot ($4), knowing the some of the cards aren't in good shape. Yes, a few have gum residue, and a few are cut correctly or have frayed edges, but that doesn't concern me. I'm not trying to assemble this set to put away forever, but to look at and hold. And yes, the lot I bought is mostly commons and contains few superstars (Toby Harrah notwithstanding), but that's OK -- this was just a start. Re-acquiring the set in segments instead of all at once might be more fun. I will continue to post on my progress.

I took the boys to their first Jazz game last night. Eldest got a free ticket from his basketball league, I got one for coaching, and after another player got sick, Littlest had a ticket, too. So the three of us met one of Eldest's classmates/teammates and his dad and went to the game at EnergySolutions Arena in downtown Salt Lake City. The game went much better than I expected (at least off the court; the Jazz lost to the pitiful Wizards). Eldest and his friend paid attention to almost the whole game. They sat in the row in front of the dads and Littlest and were content to watch the game away from their fathers. I didn't mind. Eldest is getting to that point where he likes hanging out with his friends, maybe a little more than me if given the option. There's plenty of time to go to a game with just him (or just both boys). I think Eldest understood what was going on during the game, too -- at least enough that he paid attention. I'm starting to believe him that basket...

For Christmas, Wife gave me a 10-punch pass to a "boot camp" class at the Jewish Community Center (yes, we belong to a JCC; there are no YMCAs in Salt Lake City, and I do appreciate the mild ridiculousness of being Catholic in the most Mormon place on the planet and belonging to a Jewish Community Center). I did a some boot camp-style classes a couple years ago and liked them, and Wife thought I might like to do them again. It's not real, R. Lee Ermey boot camp, but just a mildly intense workout. I've been going for a few weeks, and though it's been rough, and though I've felt like an uncoordinated spaz at times (some exercises -- pull-ups for example -- I've just never been able to do), I keep going back and feel worked out after each class. However, the last class I took really beat me up. Thursday, as part of the workout, I did 60 situps. Mind you, I probably haven't done that many situps in a 10-minute time period since high school, when I was in ...

At preschool this week, Littlest was "Star of the Week." The recipient of Star of the Week gets a poster dedicated to him or her, on which the child draws a picture of his family, has all his favorites listed, and has comments from his family, teacher and all his classmates what they like about him. We've been through this before, twice with Eldest and now twice with Littlest. But it was Littlest's answers that highlighted this Star of the Week, particularly what he wanted to be when he grew up. Littlest answered that he wanted to be happy when he grew up. A few years ago, Eldest declared he wanted to be a parent when he grew up, which was awesome. Littlest's happy comment might have been the cutest I've heard in all the years at this preschool (even cuter than the girl who wanted to own a Target when she grew up. I could have talked for minutes on what I liked about Littlest. About how proud I am of him for working so hard these past couple years in speech th...

I got my first bicycle in May 1978 when I was 7 years old. It was a black and silver not-quite-a-BMX bike with a giant shock absorber across the middle bar, and it was a present for my first Communion. I was a small second-grader, and I don't think my parents realized how big this bike was. But this was before you saw many of the little bikes you see today that are aimed at smaller kids. My dad installed training wheels, but training wheels were different then, too, usually with only one on the ground at any given time instead of two. Being so high up on this bike and not feeling balanced freaked me out too much. My parents must have wondered what was wrong with me (because I also was too frightened of water); I hope they didn't get mad that they bought me a bike I refused to ride. I did learn how to ride a bike the next summer: My sister's Prairie Flower. It was smaller and easier to balance. I think what drove me finally figure it out was finding out a 6-year-old neighbor...