The Day the Music Died

THAT'LL BE THE DAY: This morning CJ asked me what an anniversary is. I told him it's a day you remember something. Oftentimes it's something happy, like a wedding anniversary, but other times it's something sad, like the day someone died. That brought immediately to mind that this is "the day the music died" - the anniversary of the death of Buddy Holly, 22, (along with Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper) in a plane crash in 1959. So while they worked on writing some sentences (groundhog leftovers!), I played "That'll Be the Day" and "Peggy Sue" for them. That was followed by Don McLean's "American Pie" a tribute to Holly. (A long, long time ago I can still remember how that music used to make me smile ... bad news on the doorstep - I couldn't take one more step. I can't remember if I cried when I read about his widowed bride, but something touched me deep inside the day the music died.) Of course the kids were singing along with the chorus by the end of the song. Weezer's "Buddy Holly" was another must (I forgot how great that video was!).

NOT NASA: At noon the kids and I undertook a project that's been hanging over us for months. The box has been sitting on the shelf screaming, "Build me!" Finally, the kids have started screaming, "Build it!"

That's right, today would be the day we'd finally construct "The Meteor Rocket." It promises the rocket, powered by baking soda and vinegar, will make 100-foot high flights.

The box also proclaims (in all caps) that it's one of the TOP 32 TOYS OF THE YEAR (Family Life Magazine) and says it's "Recommended by Parents' Choice." What could go wrong, right?

We got out the instructions and made sure all of the parts were included. Good news, they were. The first step was making the tailfins by affixing silvery contact paper to balsa wood, and then using a template to cut the fins out of the wood. I had the kids apply the foiled paper (that went mostly OK) and CJ traced the templates onto the now-shiny balsa wood. That went not so OK - after they were cut out, one fin was rather horribly misshapen. Crap.

Our next step was to affix the fins to a plastic liter bottle using glue. Aloud I said, "Well THAT's not going to work." I don't know of any glue that would really and truly make balsa wood stick to a smooth plastic bottle. I'm already envisioning duct tape at this point. ... I flip forward in the directions seeing what other gems await and see a supplemental at the end with an alternative method of attaching the fins without glue. (Quite clearly I wasn't the only rocket builder who had a "huh what?" moment regarding those.) So we used a plastic band of sorts to attach the fins to the bottle.

Next, it was time to cut some red film for the fuselage. We were told to cut it 10 and 5/8 inches. I made a big deal of measuring it exactly correctly - showing the kids the 1/8 mark on the tape measure and telling them how important it was that we cut it out at exactly that size. Which we did. Only to find out their measurement is wrong. The nosecone (which they provided) that is supposed to fit in this 10 5/8 inch fuselage is too big to fit. That's awesome. Time for more tape.

So the rocket is rickety (balanced on one bad tailfin), and it's crooked (thanks to the nosecone nonsense), but it's constructed, and as long as their "fueling module" (a couple of rubber corks and a tube) works and our baking soda and vinegar react the way they should, I figure we'll get at least one flight out of it. We'll probably give it a go tomorrow afternoon.

AMBUSHED!: We went to Fred Meyer this afternoon to pick up a couple of items. As we're cruising the wide, back aisle of the store, where the housewares and bedding displays are, I see a teenager about 20 feet away jump onto one of the displays, a half-length double bed done up in Valentine-y colors. Soon after, a second teen jumped on the display, too. I thought to myself, "I'm pretty sure those displays aren't meant to be sat upon," and hoped that Fred Meyer staffers didn't bust 'em.

CeeJ & Bee are trailing me as we walk past the display. I see the teens are now semi-reclined on the bed and feigning sleep - until the kids walk by and then they pop up and out and scream, "Boo!"

Well, as you might imagine, Bee and CJ screamed and jumped and I laughed and said, "That was awesome!"

CJ had recovered a bit at this point and said (with a bit of bravado), "Oh, you were trying to scare us, weren't you?"

Annabelle didn't have any trouble admitting to them, "I fell for it!"

ZIP IT: At the one point this afternoon CJ started spinning a story for Annabelle - something about a fish who got shot "and the doctor couldn't save him." Annabelle started fretting and attempted to make an inquiry about the plot line, but CJ brusquely cut her off, saying, "Save the questions for the end, OK?"

PRIVATE LESSON: Tonight CJ and Christian had the Tae Kwon Do teacher all to themselves. Usually, there are 7 or 8 students total. Why the dojo ghost town? Well, on Monday night they had a sub. Instead of easy going Ms. Ahn, it was hardcore old school Tae Kwon Do dude. And said dude told the class on Monday that there would be a sub on Wednesday, as well. Guess that was enough to keep the masses away!