March 14, 1999 | Issue 18 | Orem, Utah |
In this issue:
New Headquarters!
The headquarters for Sparks from the Smithy have moved! From the office upstairs to the family room downstairs. This is in anticipation of a new family member’s arrival in June. In giving up a private office, we now have a brand new fancy desk with room not only for the computer, but for lots of other junk to be piled up as well.
The Essence of a Two-Year-Old
In the course of time’s normal dash, our son has become a two-year-old. What a time of life — both for him and for us. He’s the most loveable and infuriating creature I’ve ever met.
Ethan frequently greets me returning home from work with a gleeful, “Daddy! You came home!” followed by a big hug. Those are great. And it’s fond thoughts of him like that that make him pretty loveable while he’s upstairs asleep.
But then there are also times he puts his growing language skills to use, in exchanges like these:
Daddy: Do you want some more milk?
Ethan: NO!!!
Daddy: OK, no milk.
Ethan: I want some milk!
Daddy: I’m going to pray.
Ethan: No! I want to pray!
Daddy: OK. Go ahead.
Ethan: No! No! No!
Daddy: Well, then I’ll pray.
Ethan: No, I want to pray!
Daddy: Be quiet.
Daddy: OK, bud, let’s change your pants.
Ethan (running away): No, no. Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin!
That last one makes his rebellion somewhat endearing. And to be fair, probably a lot of his contradictions are caused just by his inability to express everything he wants to say. Maybe he wants milk, but not from the cup I’m offering.
And speaking of language, some people tell us they think that Ethan is pretty advanced verbally. To us, he’s just Ethan, but he still surprises us occasionally. One day he said, “Daddy, may I please sit on your lap?” And in response to a question he said, “No, thank you.” I always thought such language came only after lots of talk about Magic Words.
But then he also takes advantage of his linguistic ignorance:
Ethan: Can we go outside?
Daddy (hesitatingly): You want to go outside?
Ethan: OK!
Repeating his questions back to him just seems like an invitation to him.
A two-year-old’s energy can be difficult at times. It is an energy springing from his desire to be free and do things himself, even when a tired parent just wants him to hold still and stay close by while going through a checkout at the store. He’s remarkably honest about why he wants to get down sometimes: “I want to run around.” I’d like to figure out a way to encourage that honesty, even though I can’t always give him what he asks for.
But we miss that energy sometimes. We went to the Hogle Zoo in Salt Lake City a couple of months ago, and Ethan got sick in the car right as we were exiting the freeway. There were all kinds of unpleasant things coming up, which led to an immediate trip to the children’s clothes department at Fred Meyer. We got him cleaned up, but he was still pallid the entire time we were at the zoo. That he was content to stay in his stroller was kind of nice, since we didn’t have to chase him around the whole park, but it just wasn’t as fun. We had an outing just for him, but he couldn’t enjoy it because he was queasy the whole time.
He’ll dump anything on the floor and dance around on it. He’ll say goodbye to the rocks, telling them that he’s hungry and needs to go home now, after we’ve been hiking. He’ll climb up in the pantry to get a pop tart, eat two bites and throw the rest on the floor. He’ll pick up the assembly instructions for a desk and say, “It says build a desk. The end.” He’ll insist that he wants to take his clothes off in the fitting room too, and then crawl under the wall into the next stall saying, “Is that my daddy?”
In short, he’s at an age where he is this amazing bundle of sweetness and frustration. I think overall, I’ll miss it when it’s gone.
Updating the Force
The second trailer for the upcoming Episode 1 of the Star Wars story just came out a few days ago. I saw it as a QuickTime clip on my computer at work, and it gave me misty eyes. It made me feel a little funny to get emotional about a movie trailer, and I had to think about why it would cause such an impact.
Part of it is the amazing universe that has been created, with heroic Jedi Knights, beautiful queens and princesses, fantastic aliens, and cool space ships. But there’s more to it than that.
George Lucas said that when the whole story is laid out, you’ll see that it is really all about Anakin Skywalker (Darth Vader). And from that perspective, it makes the saga a bit of a tragedy. So to see this 9 year-old kid in the trailer, and realize what his life will be like is sad.
But to understand my reaction, I have to go back to when I was a 9 year-old kid, and saw the original Star Wars movie for the first time.
Alan and Jeff were working at the Westgate theater in Beaverton at the time, and they both saw it for free since they were employees. It seems like Alan, though he enjoyed it, didn’t think it was anything too special — typical hero rescues the princess stuff. Jeff said I probably wouldn’t understand it. But Phyllis, Kerry and I went to see it, and I still remember walking across the parking lot afterward (to go have a pizza at Gino’s) profoundly affected. “That was the best movie I’ve ever seen,” I declared. It struck a chord with me, as it did with my friends.
My ultimate fantasy, as expressed in my journal from the fifth grade, was to own the Millenium Falcon. I mentioned this in entries titled “If I Had Three Wishes”, “If I Had $1000 to Spend”, and simply, “I Wish I Had the Millenium Falcon.” Today I would probably amend those wishes to be rid of the maintenance headache that came along with the Falcon, but it would never have occurred to me to wish for some perfected duplicate — the Falcon was The Ship. It had character.
And by association, Han Solo was The Man. Of course, my friends and I all liked Luke, but we knew Han was the cool one.
It still bothers me that the re-released Special Edition of Star Wars had Greedo fire first before Solo blasted him. Not only did it look a little hokey, it sabotaged the power of the story because it made Han’s change of heart (to risk his life for something noble) less dramatic.
Anyway, it was always a tacit competition to see who could see Star Wars the most times. I lost track around 15 times. There was one showing where I remember scavenging through the bushes in the theater parking lot for bottles I could turn in at the grocery store to be able to pay my admission. I think I still ended up something like three cents short, but the ticket seller had mercy on me and let me in. I think in all the scrambling I missed the first few minutes of the movie. That was OK, I had it memorized word for word anyway.
I had Star Wars action figures, Star Wars pajamas, Star Wars trading cards, Star Wars models, and Star Wars bedding (which mom recently sent me). I got two copies of the Star Wars sketch book for my birthday. I read the book, and knew the parts that had been cut from it to make the movie.
When The Empire Strikes Back was about to be released, I went to see Star Wars again, just so I could see the trailer. I arranged with some friends to save me a spot in line on the opening day, so that we were within the first 20 people into the theater. I wrote in my journal that, “I’ll probably think the movie is corny when I’m older and they have all these new movies with better effects.” It hasn’t happened yet.
When Return of the Jedi came out, I was older and less fanatic, but I still saw it twice in two days, and probably saw it a few more times in the theater.
So, now, an inconceivable twenty-two years after the original film, the trailer for The Phantom Menace combines a strange combination of nostalgia and anticipation for me. The movie can’t help but make truckloads of money, but please let it be good!
LASIK Update
I can see. Really pretty well — especially through my right eye. My left eye is still less than optimal, but I’m still hopeful. The surface is smooth and the correction is right, it just seems to be a bit drier than it should be.
A guy I talked to who had RK said that his eyes tended to be dry for a whole year after his surgery. I hope I don’t have to wait that long, but gradual improvement at any rate would be welcome. Still, I’m able to function pretty well, and even my computer fonts have shrunk back to their pre-surgery size.
Copyright � Eric Smith, 1989-1999, All rights reserved.