Practical Jokers

My sons Aaron and Sammy can be quite the practical jokers. For instance, the other day, Aaron created this image simulating a computer virus, and left it open on the computer for me to see:

This morning, I got him back good! A little background first. Yesterday, he begged me to donate his $40 allowance we owed him to this Minecraft (computer game) server site so he could get this weapon that would make him practically invulnerable in the Minecraft Hunger Games simulation he plays. I thought it sounded fishy, but he assured me his friend did it and it worked out fine, so we did the donation.

That got me thinking of a fun way to get him back. I would make a similar mock virus alert, except mine would be looking like it was being typed remotely. But not just by a hacker...but by "Herobrine", an unauthorized Minecraft character associated with Minecraft virus scares. I made it out like Herobrine hates people who donate to the server like Aaron did.

So after breakfast this morning, I had the boys wake up the computer under a fake excuse. Sammy discovered my mock virus message first and anxiously called me over. I pretended I was totally freaked out, and was yelling out "AWWW GREAT! The computer is RUINED!" Aaron ran over to see what was the matter. I waited a little bit for him to read it fully (you have to watch it for a while to let it run through its entire animated sequence):


You should have seen Aaron standing there all slack-jawed! Right when he looked most worried, I added, "And all because you just HAD to donate to that Minecraft server!" I let the gag run a little bit more just to see what would happen, adding "Try pressing the escape button", knowing full well the only way to get out of the screen was to press F11. After a little more fake outcry, I started laughing and the jig was up. We all had a good laugh and the boys conspired about how they were going to trick their friends with it.

Next, I taught the boys how I did it, and we created this animation together:


Ah, the computer generation!

New! My Other Blog

Hey friends,

I wanted to take a moment to introduce my other blog that I finally created and posted onto for the first time today. It is called "My Journey from Atheism to Christianity" and can be found by clicking here or over on the right under "My Other Blog".

So many amazing, miraculous things have happened in my life (such as the miracles surrounding The Passing of My Father) that I decided to start the new blog to share them in all their glory - not the least of which is how I converted from a die-hard atheist into a Christian in 1993. Miracles and God's goodness abound everywhere in the accounts. Take a look at the new blog, subscribe if you like, and you will not be disappointed. And, please, do feel free to share this with whoever.

Blaine

P.S. I will still be posting to this blog from time to time, in the typical Vanderschuit Voyage fashion.

Questions for Santa

My 10-year-old son Aaron has some unanswered questions for Santa that have left him distraught to the point of considering seeking remuneration for emotional and psychological damage.

Dear Santa,

1. How do you fit all those gifts in one bag?

2. Do you ever get sick from eating all those cookies?

3. How do you make the toys without being sued for copyright and trademark infringement?

4. How come none of my gifts ever say "from Santa"?

5. How do you get your bag down the chimney?

6. How come every Santa I take a picture with looks different?

7. When I saw you at Petco yesterday, why did you look like a woman dressed as you, and who were you texting?

8. How come they never pick up your workshop on radar?

9. How do you avoid setting off alarms in homes with security systems?

and lastly,

10. Do you know every language on earth?

I would ask you how you manage to deliver all those gifts in one night, but I figured out that has to do with a time dilation machine, which I suppose technically could be defined as "magic" by certain lawyers, but I feel a little bit condescended to when you tell me it's magic.

I also figured out why you never run behind schedule at the north pole. If you ever are behind, you just move back a time zone or two by stepping backwards.

Sincerely,
Aaron Vanderschuit

P.S. Any withholding of any owed holiday cheer or "naughty listing" will result in my exposing you as a fraud and a cheat (however, answering the above questions will go a long way toward avoiding such a lawsuit).

Two Loves

I remember when I was in my mid twenties and my dad asked me if I knew where he got his little saying "I never heard of such a thing!" I was surprised to find out it was in fact from me, from way back when I was about three years old -- he'd been saying it for so many years I just thought he really liked saying it.

Got me thinking about something I've been saying for years that I got from my brother Michael's daughter Johanna. She said it years ago during the time when I stayed with Michael a few days to help him out after he had cut off part of a finger with his lawn mower. On one of those days, Michael was dropping something off at school, Johanna and I were in the car waiting and had this exchange:

"I love you, Uncle Blaine."

"I love you too, Johanna."

"No, I love you," she answers.

"I know . . . I love you too."

"No, I love YOU," she repeats.

"Yes, and I love you," I repeat, getting a bit confused at what is happening.

"NO! I love YOU!" she insists.

Then a light bulb goes off in my mind. I remember how kids at that age are naturally egocentric, which causes them to have trouble seeing beyond their own point of view. I think about what I might say to get her to see things my way as well. "Johanna loves Uncle Blaine, AND Uncle Blaine loves Johanna," is what I come up with.

For the first time, Johanna says nothing. I wonder if I got through to her. I start to open my mouth to try again.

Suddenly her little voice squeaks, "TWO loves!"


PHOTO OF JOHANNA FROM AROUND THAT TIME

Oh, man! She got it! Oh, how she got it! And in her wonderful little way with words I could never have imagined with my grown up mind.

I've always remembered that sweet conversation with my dear niece. Sammy and I play this little game where we repeat the conversation, sometimes with him in Johanna's role, sometimes with me in it (sometimes Aaron, too). Sammy and I did this once again the other night, and I asked myself whether I'd ever shared that with Johanna. So here I am making sure:

Johanna, though many miles may lie between us, I thought that you should know that you are in my heart, and that the stamp of love you left on me endures in me and now in Elisa and your cousins.

POSTSCRIPT:
After emailing this to Johanna through her mother Angela, I got the following reply:

Johanna says, "Aww, I remember that! :-) I could hear the conversation in my head as I read, the whole scene coming back to me. I could hear your voice and my own so clearly, I was so hyper then :-P I miss you too <3 "

Mom says, "Thanks for that. Johanna is in such a good mood now. That really lifted her day. She is back doing Biology now. Hope all is well with you. I will look for a photo of you and Johanna.
God Bless,
Angela

JOHANNA AND I FROM AROUND 1999

Rites of Passage

You ever read about rites of passage to manhood ceremonies? Some are pretty outrageous. How about wearing a wasp suit without whimpering? How about discoloring or even knocking out some teeth? Rubbing your privates with stinging nettles? Cutting? Scarring? Not for me! But there are some truly great ones of times mostly long past. How about becoming a squire to a knight or an apprentice to a craftsman, leading a hunt, or surviving alone in the wilderness? Something profound seems lost these days sitting in front of the TV or video games. I sometimes wonder how I might pass on a sense of manhood to my boys similar to the way my own father instilled some of that in me. But it didn’t all come from my father.

One unintentional rite of passage occurred for me as a result of continual childhood arm-bruising from my older brother Michael which, in all fairness, I sometimes deserved. (Forgive me if you've heard this story before). It took place one day at about age twelve when for the first time ever I didn't cry when he hit me on the arm. I was about to cry, but then I thought to myself, Wait, I don't have to cry, and this light went on in my head. Somehow I managed to say through teary eyes and a quivering lip, "That didn't hurt! Do it again!" I lied. Big time. It was probably the hardest he had ever hit me, pinpointing that nerve near the shoulder. But then the strangest thing happened. He just harrumphed and walked away. And he never ever hit me on the arm again. It was as if there was some unwritten code that must be followed…a subconscious rite of passage.

A number of years ago when the boys were much younger, I got tired of the kids balling over the tiniest bits of pain. My first thought was, Where is Uncle Michael when you need him?

But then I shuddered, and fortunately slapped myself back to sanity. That’s when the idea of the “controlled pain game” struck me. I named it “Smacky." Basically, the inner forearm is bared and smacked with varying levels of intensity. The game ends when each participant has endured at least one firm smack without any whimper. It worked like a charm. Over the next few months when my boys would have a minor injury and start to cry, I’d ask them, “Did that even hurt as much as Smacky?” You could just see the lights turn on in their eyes. “No!” And they’d realize they don’t have to cry over every little thing. The only problem was they wanted to play Smacky all the time and would cheap shot me on the back! Nothing quite like hand prints left on the back.

A few years later, and Smacky has generally faded away, giving way to sports, homemade bows and arrows, and snow shoveling duties. I try to keep in mind I’m raising future men and to keep on the lookout for more and more rites of passage as the years roll on. I welcome any stories or traditions anyone might care to share.

Oh yeah, I can’t forget. After I shared much of the above in an email several years ago, my brother Michael wrote this reply. His side of the story, told his hilarious way:

Dear Blaine,

Nice email, Brother, especially the parts about me hitting you and making you cry. I really like the happy end of the story though, when you realized that you didn't have to cry anymore. Actually... you know, I was the one that placed that realization into your brain. Yes, that lame, drained, insane in the membrane, blaine brain. (Sorry, I couldn't resist). For years, telepathically, experimenting using various techniques, including the Vulcan mind meld, I finally perfected my own revolutionary technique. It's called P.U.N.C.H., which stands for PUgilistic Nerve Chronic Hitting, or commonly known as "Punch UNtil Crying Halts." Due to the thickness of your skull, however, it took years longer than I had anticipated but... eventually, my painstaking (pun intended) research paid off. No more crybaby little brother!!! A metamorphosis took place that fateful day, when you transformed into the well adjusted, lean mean fighting machine of a man, that you are today. It was a labor of love. No need to thank me. Love, ya.

Things that I do with my kids to toughen them up, which they actually enjoy, is picking them up and tossing them onto a bed or couch. You have to find the CT (Crying Threshold), with each child, as to how high, how hard, at what velocity, etc.. The CT seems to fluctuate depending on the individuals mood, state of health, alertness, tiredness, and so on. Another fun one is a safer variation of the grab one arm and one leg and swing them in a circle. What you do is have them lay in the middle of a blanket and pick it up and swing them around inside it. The deprivation of sight, being inside a blanket, while being swung around in a circle at high velocity, helps one overcome one's fear of the dark, roller coasters, and the like. Just be careful not to overdo it or you will go over the PT (Puke Threshold). Or, for best results, combine both of the above games. After you are done swinging them, let go of the blanket so they land on a couch or bed. Be careful on the timing of the release of the blanket or you may over or under-schuit the landing zone.

That's all for now folks. Until next time, be happy (no crying), or vee vill hav to schuit you!

High Hopes

When I first bought a computer for our boys, I had high hopes of showing them the great things they could accomplish with what really is an extremely powerful tool. Unfortunately, at first it was just a high-priced video game console to them. It took me a few months, but I finally put together a little workstation for them, with a microphone and a music-keyboard controller for computer music, which I gave to them as an early Christmas present. I honestly didn't expect such excitement in their eyes when they saw it. With the workstation, a decent video camera, a digital camera, and tons of free software off the internet, the boys now have a full-fledged amateur film production workshop.

We had already passed down to them our old digital camera a year or so prior, which Aaron promptly put to use making stop action Lego videos. I showed him the basics, but the thing that surprised me is his creative camera angles, zooms and pans . . . a sort of natural cinematographic flair. We first chose the shorter of his two films to soundtrack (although many, many photos went into even this short one).

Like the theme song? He came up with it himself, chose the "orchestra hit" sound, and even personally recorded the main melody on the workstation. I added some accompaniment for a full arrangement and showed him the ropes on how to sync a soundtrack to a video. We even added some special effects. Most of the dialogue is also his, and we wrote a little script for it. He is blossoming into a little writer, too, with a nearly complete Lego short story called "The Power Miner Peril" currently at 14 pages. Typing skills are improving bit by bit, too, thanks to free online typing lessons for both boys.

Aaron's got another Lego video he made before this, but we have yet to complete the sound-tracking for that...although now we have all the tools needed. Admittedly, Aaron is stealing the spotlight a bit over Sammy at this point, but that's only because he's a few years older. Sammy was watching and got billed as a special assistant. We'll see what comes of it all.

Incidentally Sammy is working with Aaron at this very moment building "a giant base" for all their Lego people with hopes of entering it into Lego's monthly competition. They completed two stages so far, a swimming pool and a helipad with a control tower. Apparently the pool is so popular everyone flies in for a swim. So many in fact that I think they may need an occupancy limit...

I am actually really proud because many of the Legos they are using they bought with money they earned working around the house. Thanks for stopping by. Enjoy.

Deep Creek Suprise

Monday, July 5, after finishing hauling all the weeds and rubbish from around the yard, I decide to take the family to a local spot called Deep Creek, in a canyon below the east side of Lake Arrowhead just beyond the community of Cedar Glen. It's late, so we're debating if it's going to be worth it with the sun on its inevitable descent and the wind picking up. But we bite our lips and just go.

After a quick stop to pick up some meal worms for bait, we head down toward the dirt road that leads to our usual Deep Creek haunt (at the rocky section just below the bridge for those who know). The road is rockier and more rutted than last year, but fortunately with Elisa's help I'm able to resist the boys' calls for me to go faster.

We arrive about 4:45 and the place is packed. We're wondering if it's going to be a good scene when suddenly an Hispanic woman approaches us with her forest adventure day pass and gives it to us...a fortuitous sign since we had neglected to get one and would be in danger of getting a $100 ticket. Next, several of the cars leave all at once, considerably thinning the crowd. And we find the wind isn't as strong and the sun is at a perfect temperature. God seems to be smiling on us despite our earlier doubtful bickering. In fact, it would turn out to be our best and most adventurous time there ever.

Almost as soon as we're down there, Aaron spots a little water snake in an isolated pond, but it disappears into some bushes. So the boys head straight for the natural water slide to cool off in style.

A little later back at the pond, they see the snake again, and this time it literally comes up to them and pokes its head out of the water and flicks its tongue at them. So Aaron snatches it up, and both he and Sammy play with it for a while--until it nips at Aaron and he lets it go (all's well).

Next up, Aaron and I decide to fish while Sammy catches a bunch of water beetles from the pond. I catch a little rainbow trout (maybe 8"), and a little bit later Aaron hooks a similar one. Not big, but exciting because we've fished there before with no luck. Another boy gives ours a tadpole in a cup, and in keeping with the adventurous spirit, it manages to disappear before we make it home.

You can see most of what I'm talking about in this short video compilation of the adventure, the soundtrack for which I play a short rendition of "Here Comes the Sun."

A near perfect adventure, replete with tons of critters for the boys, and just on the other side of the lake. What a day!

A Memory for Father's Day

My dad did this wacky Disney western in 1977 called "Hot Lead and Cold Feet", and he flew me up to Bend, Oregon for the filming of it. Michael Sharrett was also in this movie, and it was at this time Dad and Mike's mom Nancy fell in love, and ultimately joined the family not long afterward.

I fondly remember that experience back when I was 9 years old, and I still have a prop gun that Jim Dale (the lead actor) gave me. Funny story. Jim Dale had previously been shooting scenes as the lighthearted preacher during my time there. But then one day this really bad dude shows up. It was Jim Dale as the outlaw twin brother, but I didn't know it. I was terrified just looking at him, and it didn't help that he was walking around in character with this mean look preparing for his scenes. He could see I was scared so he sat down nearby and decided to have a little fun with me.

"Hey you!" he says with a scowl.

I turn and look behind me, hoping he's talking to someone else, but no one else is there. I point to myself, wide eyed.

"Yeah, you!" he growls. "Come here!"

I walk sheepishly over.

He points to a chair. "Sit down!" He pulls a gun out. "You see this gun?" he says menacingly, pointing the gun at me.

I wish I could go back in time and see the expression on my face!

Next he turns the gun, handle toward me and--totally leaving character--says with this happy-go-lucky tone like he was my best friend for years, "You want it?"

I think he had to force it into my hand I was still so scared! I think after that he smiled profusely and spoke apologetically to me, but I was still afraid of him whenever I saw him. I honestly didn't realize until I saw the movie that it was the same guy who played the gentle preacher!

I've held onto that prop gun all these years and now keep it on a shelf in my studio with some other western memorabilia I inherited after my dad's passing. My kids love the fact that I have something from the movie they watch of their beloved Grandpa Warren.


Here's Dad with a few of the other characters, including Karen Valentine.

My dad's character, Boss Snead, is in many scenes, but my favorite scene is when the preacher brother, having been tricked into drunkenness, attempts to cross a tightrope in a madcap race against his outlaw twin, and my dad is there with an axe ready to do him in. Most of my dad's lines were ad lib, and the director liked them enough to keep them in. Mike Sharrett is also later in the scene, the little boy with Karen Valentine and the little blond girl. And you can see all three characters Jim Dale played, the preacher and the outlaw twins I already mentioned and their father (the old man who throws the rock at the end).

If you'd like to buy the movie, it's available on DVD probably from Amazon. Younger kids will particularly appreciate it. God bless all you dad's out there.

The Birthday Twins' Special Connection

Today, this snowy May 23, 2010, would have been my dad's 80th birthday. It is Sammy's 7th birthday. For whatever reason, God chose this day to be my dad and Sammy's birthday. Here you see them, sucking thumbs together when Sammy was maybe 8 months old.

Over the years, I have observed more connections between them than just the birthday one. Like my dad, Sammy is very animated and has a natural flair for the theatrical, currently evidenced in his surprising ability to do foreign accents replete with uncanny improvised dialog. He also shares the knack for developing humorous phrases (see http://thevanderschuitvoyage.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-dads-memorial.html for many of my dad's witticisms). One that comes to mind is how Sammy suddenly started ending sentences calling people "Chickie," with a sort of W.C. Fields delivery. Which reminds me of how he calls Dickens "Charles Chickens" (you have to hear his rhythm on that to fully appreciate it).

Some other memorable Sammy-isms include...

"Busted barnacles!"
"Burning fireplaces!"
"I'm am a [fill in the blank] professional!"
"Stuck like a rock and glue!"
"As cold as a gopher in an ice cube!"
...and the perennial favorite...
"Some day I want to roast a coyote!", which he said out of the blue one day in the car.

With these and others he often affects a comedic tone (whether or not anyone is listening), something like a cross between a vaudeville entertainer and Curly from the Three Stooges (Aaron says Sammy's the funniest kid he knows). Like his grandpa, Sammy's just naturally entertaining and always seems to be working on his routine.

It gets deeper. They had a special connection I just didn't realize till more recent years. It seems Sammy often had "Grampy Warry" on his mind. For instance, if you'd ask him to pray, he'd always immediately pray for his grandpa, even if it was off the prayer topic. When my dad passed away, our little whistler stopped whistling for several days, saying he just didn't feel like it anymore. But it didn't take long for him to get to the point where he was whistling happily again (this very moment even) and just thanking God in prayer for Grandpy Warren, which is probably his most common prayer now.

Makes you think, huh?

Sammy really loved his grandpa. I wonder if their special connection will blossom further into eternity? I look forward to seeing whatever other similarities God has put in the Birthday Twins. Stay posted...

-Blaine

P.S. Yesterday we spent Sammy's pre-birthday at Disneyland. Although Sammy vomited out the day's junk on the way out of the park, he still smiled just before he fell asleep at home. Not quite as momentous as last May 23rd, my dad's last birthday on this side, which both he and Sammy celebrated together (along with my mom whose is May 18th) at a party poolside at Dad's condo in South Pasadena. It's great to get the family together like we did that day, complete with some guitar and singing and the camaraderie of friends and family. If any of you who were there that day are reading this...I'm open for more poolside antics.

Sammy learns bathroom safety...the hard way

Any of you out there have the sliding shower doors? You know, the ones that have wheels the roll inside a groove along the top? They are accidents waiting to happen. I'll tell you why we are switching to the shower rod and curtain style (and recommend you do the same).

I thought I had at least eliminated the possibility of the thing totally falling apart by adding sheet metal screws to keep the track from coming off the top.

Yeah, the wheels would come out of the track all the time, particularly with smaller kids applying upward pressure reaching up for the handle to slide the door. The wheels might come out, but at least the doors were going to stay in the track (or so I thought).

I could kick myself for not warning my kids to "never force the shower doors open" or something of that sort. Well, that's what Sammy did, and the door totally came out of both the upper and lower tracks...and the sharp metal corner directly onto his big toe! Totally opened it up, requiring five stitches at the E.R.


Here's Sammy's take on the experience, which he recorded in his homeschool journal, which he titled "Almost Dead Toe, or The Night Toe Got Smashed, or Toe Got Hurt."

"My toe got smasht by the shower. I had to go to the e.r. and my toe got sticheted."

That's the doctor on the left of the drawing, giving Sammy three shots of Novocaine, which is apparently making Sammy red with pain and making tears actually shoot out from his eyes. On the right are Mommy and Aaron crying with sympathy (I was out with my phone off at a Bible study while this was all happening). The doctors were amazed at how close the boys are, with Aaron showing so much sympathy and support.

Moral of the story? Get the old school curtain-and-rod shower system. Hopefully Sammy won't have any lasting issues with that toe....