Gift or Wishful Thinking?

I’ve been on and off sick for the last six weeks or so. On the Fourth of July I was not feeling great—fever, chills, tired. We had a potluck with some friends, roasted marshmallows, shot off fireworks—you know, the usual good American fun minus the guns. (As a kid our Fourth of July included John Phillips Sousa marches played loudly, fireworks, a cookout, and the shooting of the family guns.) As the party carried on, I got into bed. While in bed it occurred to me that I hadn’t done a few things that might have an effect on my illness—things my Creek Indian friends have taught me to do. One was to put some tobacco in the fire, which would carry a prayer to the Creator above. A second was to leave a treat outside for the Little People and also some tobacco and a prayer of thanks for the firewood. The Little People are the keepers of the natural world and they can really mess with you if you don’t respect them and Nature.

As I got back into bed my mind immediately went to a series of images that kept coming and coming. I tried my best to keep track of them and remember them and I finally had to “look away” because it was all too much to keep up with. The images and their sequence made perfect sense from the perspective of a Creek worldview. I saw things that I learned about at the ceremonial grounds and read about in Creek sacred narratives.

These are things that are the subject of my professional study, so they are things I have thought a lot about, written about, and taught students about. For the past several years I have been trying to understand contemporary but traditional Creek understandings of the cosmos and how things work—I’ve been trying to learn how to see the world like an Indian. My reasoning, and this is by no means unique or new, is that theirs is the mental framework that created the archaeology and imagery I study so theirs is a useful worldview from which to understand and interpret the remains of Creek Indian pasts.

So I am left wondering. Was this really something from another reality revealed to me? Or was this a product of a feverish mind filled with these images and ideas and therefore primed for such a vision? One could argue that I have predisposed myself for something like this because I have tried to learn, understand, and even practice the ideas of a modern traditional Creek world view. Is this something I planted in my head and manufactured through my desire to think like an Indian?

Now if I wasn’t Mr. Whitey McWhitebread, this wouldn’t even be an issue. If I was an Indian, there is no reason why I couldn’t have and believe such a vision. If you abandon the whole Indian-Non-Indian thing, then it really doesn’t matter. I am taught that the Fire (the ceremonial fire is the embodiment of the community and its connection to the Creator and Power) draws anyone who is open and willing to it. Therefore, I am no more or less predisposed than any other person who understands this stuff. If I am to think like an Indian, then the most reasonable thing to do is accept that this was a gift to me and that it is something to which I should pay attention and from which I should learn.

Honestly, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen things that I think came to me from somewhere else. My first teacher and mentor, Jim Hatch, visited me not long after he died, someone visited me during the time I was converting to Judaism, and I went on a vision quest in my sleep not long after I participated in a traditional Lakota Inipi ceremony. Maybe all of these things are just creations of an active and creative subconscious—wishful thinking. I choose to think otherwise...because it makes life a hell of a lot more interesting.

In case you were wondering if it was possible for me to do a post without mentioning my bike, I’ll just say that it was in my vision, too.

A Father’s Day fit for a Fat Archaeologist

It has been a full Father’s Day and one to remember…and not necessarily for reasons that I expected. It started out nicely. I woke up before my kids and enjoyed an early morning cup of coffee on our front porch—peaceful. My son woke up about a half an hour later and my daughter another half hour after that. Then the fun began.

1. Breakfast in Bed

Yep, got the Mom treatment this year. The kids and I usually do (or at least offer to do) breakfast in bed for my wife on Mother’s Day. The kids love bringing the food in on the tray and seeing Mom’s happy look as she receives her breakfast. My son decided I was going to get that for Father’s Day…last night.

Now my kids are 9 and 6 and don’t do a lot of cooking outside of the microwave and toaster oven. My wife is out of town…so that leaves only one of us to do the cooking. Uh huh, I cooked breakfast—a feast of fried eggs, corned beef hash, buttered toast, and cantaloupe (something to cut all that salt and butter). The problem was that my son wanted some. He always does, he wants any food that any of the rest of us eat. And as usual my daughter wanted something else. I ended up making them both breakfast before I could finish making my breakfast. The one that was eventually served to me in bed.

I cooked my eggs and toast, loaded it all on the tray and called my kids to the kitchen. I coached them on how to carry it all so it didn’t spill and then I dashed into the bedroom and jumped into bed. 

I happily received my meal in bed and even snapped a photo of them bringing it in. It was nice. My son stayed in the room and bounced on the bed while I tried to eat—and quizzed me about the rest of the day.

After I finished my meal…I got out of bed, took my dishes to the kitchen and cleaned up from breakfast. Not exactly as easy and relaxing as it might be, but the sentiment was right on target.

2. Post-Breakfast ‘Smores

You might have guessed that this one was not exactly for my benefit…alone. My son had missed ‘smores the other night when his sister and a sleepover guest had made them—he was at his own sleep over. I blindly promised we would make them again for him. he called in his marker at 10am.

Luckily I had saved some lighter fluid-soaked charcoal just for this event . I tossed it in the grill and let my son light it off. Mere minutes later we three were happily gathered around the fire pit roasting marshmallows and assembling ‘smores. At first I didn’t want one, but relented. Aaahhh, ‘smores in the morning…tastes like Father’s Day!

3. Tour de Suisse

Happily the ‘smore event wrapped up in just enough time for me to run to my computer to catch the last hour of the last stage of the Tour de Suisse (cycling)—the last big build-up to le Tour. One of my favorites, Levi Leipheimer was sitting in fourth place before the stage and had a good shot to jump to the podium or even win it. It was a time trail and he is a time trial specialist. The three riders in front of him were not. It was a nail biter and it came down to the very last rider, but Leipheimer won it all by 3 seconds. 

(http://www.cyclingnews.com/races/75th-tour-de-suisse-upt/stage-9/photos/178606)

Not only that but one of my other favorites (on the same team) Andreas Kloden came close to winning the stage.

4. Tour de Shandon

It was then that my son reminded me I told him we would all go on a bike ride. So, I got out the kid bikes, filled the water bottles, and got my road bike ready for the ride. My son and daughter both have been fascinated with the idea of a kids’ triathlon. In most of them, kids ride bikes about 3 miles so my son wanted to see what a three-mile ride felt like. I got out my IPhone, booted up MapMyRide, and we were off. We did a 3.39 mile tour around our wonderful Shandon neighborhood. The worst of it was that it was noon on Sunday and all the church folk had just been let out. The usually quiet streets were busy with good-hearted sinners hurrying off to brunch. We made it back safely and my son learned what three miles felt like—he wasn’t positively inclined.

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2 km

2 mi

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Map data ©2011 Google

200 m

1000 ft

 

5. Tic Toc Candy Shop

After a bit of down time and some lunch, my kids reminded me that the local candy store was having an event to celebrate their one-year anniversary—specials, free stuff, and a balloon artist! The pool was next on the agenda and the idea was to go right from the candy store to the pool, so I was wearing my bathing suit—which is kind of loud and colorful and really only acceptable at the pool. As we were walking out the door, my daughter cocked her head, squinted her eyes and said, “Are you going to wear that to the candy store?” Why not?

We arrived to find a very crowded small candy store. Needless to say, I looked like a clown (literally) in my brightly colored swim trunks. My kids passed on the free cookies and cupcakes, turned a skeptical eye to the balloon guy, and went right to filling their baskets with candy—blithely working around the crowd in the store. Only after they got me to buy them $13 worth of candy did they check out the balloon guy. My daughter got a dolphin and my son a T-Rex. Both came out as hats.

 My kids admitted in the car that they didn’t like them. (After dinner they deconstructed them with great delight.)

It was then that I realized I had been played like a fiddle. They didn’t care about Tic Toc’s one-year anniversary or sales or free cookies and they definitely didn’t care about the balloon artist. They saw a chance to get bulk candy and they ran with it… and I, all filled with the joy of my day, fell right into their trap.

6. The Pool

Now at this point, I was starting to run a little thin…but I promised the pool. Of course we arrived as the thunder claps started…which meant an automatic 20 minute delay from swimming. The event inspired a debate between my 6-year old and 9-year old. The latter was ready to “just head back home” because we’d “NEVER get to swim.” [Picture a slumped figure in a chair with a pouty face and folded arms] The 6-year old, listening to me (who was looking at weather radar) insisted that we should stay because the storm would pass and we would swim soon. Fortunately the debate lasted long enough for the storm to blow by and the swimming to begin.

The pool is great and I am glad we became members. The thing is if my kids don’t have any friends there, I become the plaything. I enjoy that for a while, but I really don’t want to flip kids, throw kids, be a human surfboard, and play Sharks and Minnows for three hours. I knew today there would be no friends and that I was in serious danger of becoming an old, worn out, and cranky toy. My strategy under these circumstances is this…I wait at least an hour before I will even get in the pool. Then my first dip happens 10 minutes before the lifeguards take a break and we all have to get out of the pool. That primes the kids and then I spend the next hour being the plaything. Then at the next break, we leave. It works for me…the kids not so much.

During my first hour of holding out on the kids I did something I rarely do. I tweeted and I tweeted someone famous. I congratulated Levi Leipheimer on his great win at the Tour de Suisse and this is how it came out:

@LeviLeipheimer you killed it! And it was great fun to watch! You ate a rock.

Noticing my gaff, I covered with this:

@LeviLeipheimer fon't know if you ate a rock but you are one!

I am certain Levi doesn’t know who I am, but if he ever sees these two tweets he will know instantly that I am a massive tool. So, I will not tweet famous people any more. My friends know who I am already.

To escape from my public stupidity, I jumped in the pool to become the plaything. Happily after three hours we all agreed it was time to go…on to our next adventure.

7. The Father’s Day Cook-out

A Father’s Day cook-out (really, any cook-out that happens when my wife is away) is one where only steak and white potatoes are cooked and eaten. My kids understand this and can swing with it…because they’ll get ‘smores (yet again) after the meat and potatoes are consumed—or at least cooked.

We had to stop at the grocery store to stock up on the necessaries—steak, charcoal, and chocolate. In a mad flash of frugality, I bought the store brand charcoal that isn’t soaked in lighter fluid. Make note of this reader, on Father’s Day when you are throwing your own cook-out after a long day don’t go all Robinson Crusoe on the charcoal. Sure, I got the charcoal lit—I resorted to building a roaring twig fire over the charcoal to do it. Despite my ultimate manly success (start fire, cook meat) the savings really weren’t worth the trouble and time.

Luckily, the rare porterhouse, new potatoes, and grilled pineapple made me forget the whole unpleasant fire starting thing.

Dinner is over and I’ve escaped making more ‘smores. My kids are watching sappy Disney TV show repeats on Netflix and I am back in my office on my computer sipping one last coffee. My son will go to sleep in the next hour—make that two because he just ate a Hershey bar for dessert. My daughter will follow shortly thereafter and I might have a few more moments to myself before Father’s Day is over. I’ll say now that it has been a crazy day, but a day that isn’t too far off our usual days…and having life any other way is simply unimaginable.