Saturday, October 27, 2012

More Father and Sons...


Open on BRETT and MILES standing near the kitchen table.  Miles is wearing his BATMAN CAPE over his shirt. Brett is wearing his burgundy sweat pants and black guitar shirt.  His eyes are puffy as he searches the nearby cabinet for a ripe ORANGE to eat.

Hey, Dad.  My favorite animal is Grover.

Really?  Wait, Grover isn't an animal, he's a monster.

Miles takes a moment to scratch his chin, looking down at the floor.


Oh, yeah.  I know that.  I know he's a monster.  Also, that guy
that eats all the cookies.  He's a monster, too.

Brett smiles down at Miles, pats him on the head, picks an orange, and goes into the kitchen to peel it.


Jonas, concerned about the horror of not being in character 24-7, decides that his rubber boots are good enough to simulate Kitty Soft Paws' boots from the movie Puss in Boots.  In a week where the weather has been sunny and mild, Jonas has been seen wearing his rubber boots to school every single day.  What people passing by will fail to notice, as it is quite impossible to see, if that Jonas is also wearing a black cape under that big, blue winter coat.  This cape is identical to the one his brother wore in the above scene.

On the weekend, Jonas wanted to wear pants with big enough belt loops to accommodate his toy sword.  When he "sheathed" his weapon, he noticed that the loops made the front of his sword droop.  He did not like this and demanded from his father that the problem be solved.  His father, not knowing were to purchase a pair of magic pants like this, told Jonas that nothing could be done.  Screaming, whining, falling down on the ground, spankings, and a time out for the sword quickly followed for the young Kitty Soft Paws fan.


Today, I dusted off the ol' low-tops for a game of basketball down at Min Yuan.  It was the first time that I participated in a basketball game at the school in well over a year.  I felt like the brisk air would do some good for my sore throat for some reason.  I do not know why. 

The competition was surprisingly good.  I whiffed on a few shots, though most of my time was spent setting up my teammates (just like Gretzky).  Compared to the other local guys on the other 3 on 3 teams, my team was not very good.  They were very good at fakes and traveling and calling fouls on the other team.  I would find myself open near the net, calling for the ball, and in the next moment I would be watching a ballet performance towards the net followed by a no-looker right into the other team's hands.  Opportunity lost.

In the end, my stat line would look something like this:

1 for 3 from the field (it was a 3 pointer!)
5 rebounds
11 blocks

I am pretty tall compared to most people here, so it's nice to know that after a year away from the courts I can still stuff the ball back into my opponent's face.

Playing basketball with Tibetans (and my Canadian friend, Arlin) is a very unique thing.  If you've ever ran the Min Yuan courts then you would know what I'm talking about.  It's a good time.  Fouls abound.  Imaginary fouls abound.  When someone gets swatted on the wrist, everyone laughs, including the guy being slapped.

My throat does not feel any better.  I was hoping for sort of a "reverse psychology" with it.  You know, heal a sore throat with cold air.  It's been done before, I bet.


Lois Gitzel said...

I know that whenever your dad had a cold or sore throat he would work in the 'dish pit' at camp and really sweat it out in the humidity. Helped a bit. Lozenges help. So do drugs. And time ...
Love you, Brett!

Anonymous said...

Brett- your mom just told you to "do drugs. And time". Haha.