New York City FIRST LEGO League Championship, a very long day…

3:45 am.  The first time I woke up in the night afraid that we had overslept.

6:00 am the alarm went off.  It felt like 5:00 am because it would have been 5:00 am if this were not the designated “spring forward” Daylight Savings Time.

Shower.  Dress.  Consume instant coffee.  Make banana smoothie for breakfast and sack lunch for My Kid.

7:00 am (which really feels like because yesterday it would have been 6:00 am) our family of 3 leaves the apartment and walks to nearest subway station.

No one riding the train at this hour is wearing high heels or fashionable clothing.

One woman in a uniform of manual labor rants at the stop and starting of the train accusing the driver of “smoking crack”.

It’s really early in the morning.

Pennsylvania Station.

Jacob Javits Convention Center.

First Lego League.

City wide robotics tournament.

8:00 am teams go to their assigned “pit” location.

8:30 am my kid is ready to got with the others to give their presentation on subway track fire prevention to the judges.

Sitting,

Walking,

Talking to other parents,

Attempting to read the Sunday Times,

Gathering to watch the two and a half minute robot competitions,

Five times.

The cavernous grey concrete convention center has terrible acoustics and fewer food choices than a 7-11 convenience store.

At the end of the day, due to snafu, My Kid’s team leaves the convention center without participation medals

The low point of the day.

On the way to dinner, two fruitless quick searches through stores looking for a particular item for a clown character.

Korean dumplings on 32nd Street, Mandoo Bar.

The world is looking up.

Home for homework.

Hannah Montana

Please can we please go to bed?

Shem Walker, I wasn’t at the community meeting last night, but I am upset

I ran into Rev. Dyson this morning.  As I was walking past his church, he was taking down the fliers about last nights community meeting about the death of Shem Walker, the man who was shot on his front stoop by undercover cops disguised as drug dealers.  Reverend Dyson said the family was  at the meeting with Letitia James, our City Council representative and members of 100 Blacks in Law Enforcement Who Care and representatives from local police precincts.  Mr. Walker’s daughters were there, one of them full military uniform.  She’s shipped out this morning for her second tour in Iraq.  It’s heartbreaking.

This man was trying to chase the drug dealers off his elderly mother’s front stoop.  He grew up in that house but he didn’t live there anymore.  He lived in Pennsylvania and returned to Brooklyn frequently to visit and help his mother.  

This man was killed in July.  The police officer who shot him in the chest at point blank range has not been identified.  The video from the survelance camera on the store across the street has dissappeared.

Apparently the police department and the DA have an agreement to cover up the deaths of innocent bystanders, like Shem Walker, when there aren’s many witnesses, as collateral damage, a necessary evil in the fight against crime.  The longer they can keep it quiet, the easier it will be to keep it covered up.

This is horrifying!

In Pennsylvania during the campaign, I contemplate regional diversity

We were in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania this weekend.  It’s not at all like Brooklyn. The biggest lifestyle difference was driving everywhere.  There were things that reminded me of Montana where I grew up and Nebraska where my parents grew up, historic places and times where and when we could go around on our bikes by ourselves as kids.   My friend lives in a beautiful neighborhood of cul-de-sacs that has much in common with the home of my relatives in Orange County, California, beautiful houses on a hill but nowhere for a kid to ride a bike.

 Sometimes I fantasize about living in a house in a neighborhood where my kid can go outside by herself and have some autonomy.  But, that’s not possible in many suburbs, built in my lifetime, without sidewalks or street lights.  I wouldn’t let my kid ride her bike along the side of the two lane highway anymore than I would let her ride up Fulton and cross Flatbush on the way to school or a friend’s house in Brooklyn. Whatever happened to riding your bike and playing with the neighborhood kids and “Come home for dinner when the street lights come on.”?

 Pennsylvania was insurance company calendar rural instead of what I think of as farmland which is mile after mile of mathematically straight rows of wheat and corn with giant tractors and combines.

Subtext being the presidential campaign, it was gratifying to have the woman selling pumpkins by the side of the road and the biker chick waitress at a restaurant both complement me on my Obama t-shirt.

Our friends  took us to Lake Tobias Animal Park, a family farm that has been turned into a zoo.  I wore my bright orange Obama Mama t-shirt, but nobody commented at all.  I’l bet the people there saw it with disdain and disapproval. The tour driver told us they called the longhaired breed of Scottish highland cattle on display, “hippie cows”.

The kids loved Lake Tobias, a popular local school field trip destination.  It was disturbing (although not deeply disturbing if I thought of it as a farming operation) to ride in a topless bus and watch people give crackers to small children who held them out to the bison that loped up to the side of the vehicle.  This, goes against everything I know about wild animals.  But, I suppose technically these were not wild because they live with a steady parade of topless busses full of outstretched arms and crackers.  Who knew such eclectic private zoos existed?   It was bizarre to see elk and yaks and water buffalo together in the same pasture

 I grew up with regular visits to the National Bison Range in Moiese, Montana. (The Snake Pit tourist trap on I-90, notwithstanding, it was the closest thing we had to a zoo.)  When comparing notes on our childhoods with a college roommate who grew up in Annapolis, Maryland we discovered that the big 3rd grade field trip where she was from was a day at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C.  At Lewis and Clark Elementary in Missoula, Montana, the big 3rd grade trip was to the bison range maintained by the US Department of Fish and Wildlife Services.  The bison range is deeply educational, you can go there and experience the animals as brown spots miles away because the 18,500 acre preserve is experienced via a one-way 2-hour car drive.  (There is oh so much for a disaffected teen to ignore and it’s the kind of place where parents feel compelled to go to battle with their children to put away the novels and video games in order to look for the distant wildlife that only adults paying attention can see.) There is ample time to read the brochure cover to cover learning more than anyone outside of the Department of Interior needs to know about native prairie grasses, birds, rodents and the breeding habits of the elk, deer, bighorn sheep, antelope and black bears that share the range with the bison. 

Because of our visit to the Lake Tobias wildlife park in Pennsylvania, I now understand how it is that the tourists in Yellowstone National Park come to make the kind of stupid mistakes that get them killed.  In Montana we never cease to marvel at the tourists whose deaths and injuries we read about every summer in the local paper.  They are gored while walking toward a moose or a bison in order to pose for a picture, or got between a mother bear and her cubs on a trail or most mind-blowing of all to a kid raised in the Rockies, attract bears by cooking in their tent.