Blogging has been light this week so far because I’m on vacation and, frankly, not paying much attention to the news. Or blogs, for that matter. I’ve been to The Fair™ three times so far, taken a trip to St. Louis, taken the train to Lincoln, slept-in each morning and spent some time going through my mother’s things. I’m busier than if I was working this week.
By the way the aforementioned trip to Lincoln was a big event because it was my son’s first trip on a real train. In fact, the only reason we took the northbound 5:07 Amtrak was to treat him to a train trip. It was great showing him how to watch for the train (standing by the tracks and looking for the tell-tale light to appear in the distance). I even recreated my own youthful train station safety lesson by pointing out to my son, as my father had to me, that you must not cross the yellow line or you could be too close, dangerously close, to the train as it pulled in.
Tonight I was at The Fair with my little guy and I couldn’t help thinking of a conversation I had with a coworker last week. She was telling me about how every year she takes her kids to The Fair for a full day of fun but her husband chooses not to go. Now, I don’t know anything about her husband, he may be a great guy who just can’t stand The Fair or the smell of cooking grease or something. But I think it’s sad he isn’t there with them. It’s so great to be with kids at The Fair. Why wouldn’t you want to experience that with your kids? I know, kids can be a huge pain in the ass, but experiencing the times in their life that are pure joy, or at least that’s the way they will remember it, is priceless. Dude, don’t let it pass you by. You might even have some fun yourself.