The last couple of weeks have felt like I’ve been living life as if it were Pulp Fiction, nothing seems sequential and things that I though occurred in a linear fashion probably didn’t. The kids had the last two week off from school and had not missed a single in person school day other than for our mini vacation to Phoenix in November. Most of Christmas Break involved them on their electronics while Shirley and I continued to work. Fortunately, we finally received a decent amount of snow and I was able to convince the kids that we should go sledding at Johnson Park. While the snow wasn’t exactly ideal in light of the fact that I still have yet to hire a plow service, and not to brag, but we have a really long driveway, fortunately I was able to make due with my old snowblower which I re-acquired from my father in law on Saturday. Yes, my Dutch ass is refusing to hire a plow service due to the lack of snow that we have had so far and the likelihood that I wouldn’t get my money’s worth when it comes to plowing unless we get dumped on the next two months. As the kids and I were heading to the sliding hill I received two separate calls from Shirley, the first was to tell me that Amazon was refusing to deliver down to our house because our driveway wasn’t fully plowed. I had blown out the driveway on Saturday afternoon and we received a dusting of snow Saturday night. Amazon not delivering to our house would have no impact on my life, and actually may be a blessing if it precludes Shirley from ordering up her daily deliveries from the internet bully that has continued to put small business out of business as it becomes the most powerful entity in the universe.

The second phone call was to alert me to the fact that Shirley had tested positive for Covid. This is where the last two weeks get’s pulp fiction like, did Vincent Vega eat at the diner before he injected Uma Thurman with adrenaline so she didn’t die from a heroin overdose? Did they bring in the Gimp before or after Christopher Walden hid his dad’s watch up his ass? The Monday before Christmas I went for a run and as I embarked on my journey it began to rain, it was just warm enough that it was rain and not snow but I needed to blow off some steam so I decided to just put one foot in front of the other. Now this is where it gets pulp fiction like, there was a night where I was coughing so much that Shirley asked me to go sleep in the guest bedroom, I don’t recall if that was before or after I went on my run, but it was likely the first symptom of the VID fro me. Ironically, once I relocated to the guest bedroom I stopped coughing. The only reason that it is important to pinpoint my first symptoms is if the Health Department calls I need to tell them when the onset was so that I can assure them I am already out of quarantine. Regardless, even if it was sometime that week, or even yesterday, I’m not a believer in quarantine, but I don’t need the government on my back telling me what to do even more than they are already doing. Flashback to the week before Christmas, at some point I had the chills and I want to say it was on Christmas morning but it may have been Christmas Eve, however, I was expecting a lot more, the hype surrounding Covid seems to be more overblown than that surrounding Tua Tagovailoa. One hour of discomfort coupled with an annoying cough can’t be the symptoms that result from such a devastating virus. Not that I am the type of guy to run in and get tested at the first possible symptom, but I saw no reason to think that I had contracted Rona.

We continued on to Johnson Park and it was bumpin. Lots of people had the same idea we did and it was good to see there was something that Whitler couldn’t take away from us, the outdoors. Granted, a sledding hill always attracts a high percentage of hill rods, and based on the contingent at Johnson Park you would have thought it was a gun and knife show at the Delta Plex based upon the number of trucks with lifts on them in located in the parking lot. Protocol when sledding on a public hill is to go up the side, similar to a playground slide. However, you always get those kids who decide they are going to climb right up the middle of the hill where all the traffic is. On top of that, you also get the kids who decide to slide down the side of the hill where all of the foot traffic is. As the kids and I were making our way up the hill there was a guy with his back turned to the hill, huge mistake, you never turn your back on the hill, it’s like getting out of your go kart when it spins out on the go kart track, instead of waiting for an employee to get you back on track. Sure enough, as I started yelling “watch out!” to the guy some chubby kid on an inter tube took the guy’s out at legs out. The guy looked at me from the ground as if it was my fault that he violated the number one rule of public sledding hills. Fortunately, neither I or the kids suffered any type of injury as we went up and down the hill for roughly an hour.

On the way home it was determined that the kids needed to be out of school for at least a week. Apparently there is some kind of protocol for exposure to Covid that relies on people being forthright about contact and the onset of symptoms. Had it been up to me, the kids would have been in school as I write this blog, but Shirley brought them in to get tested this morning and depending on the results it looks like best case scenario there are learning remotely this entire week. I’ve opted to forego a test, I know I had it, it’s the only way Shirley would have contracted it since she doesn’t leave the house. I on the other hand am a bit more active and could have picked it up at a number of places. Pinpointing the onset of my own symptoms is no small feat, but the onset of symptoms in my kids? They always seem lethargic when they aren’t on their devices, and I’m suppose to pay close enough attention to them to determine if they have some of the other symptoms associated with Covid?

Ironically, between Christmas and New Years the kids and I traveled to a water park in Sandusky (the butthole of Ohio) to escape the reign of terror that is the Whitmer administration. Ohio is rampant with Covid but I figured the water park had just the right amount of chlorine and urine to keep the kids and I out of harms way. We arrived late Tuesday night and made our way to our room. My original plan was to go out to a real live restaurant to experience how life would be had we not elected the dumbest human being on the planet as our governor. However, I took the easy way out and we decided to eat at the burger place at the water park. It didn’t seem overly busy but it still took over an hour to get our food, this didn’t bother the kids because they had my phone for entertainment, and it didn’t bother me as much as it would have under normal circumstances because it felt good to be doing something I use to do on a regular basis, go out to eat, even if our food didn’t arrive promptly. After dinner we retreated to the room and I nodded off as the kids played on their devices. The next morning I headed out to get a cold brew and some stuff from Meijers as well as make a business related phone call and grab breakfast for the kids. When I returned the kids seemed to be in no hurry to get into the water park. Eventually we made our way down and decided on the biggest slide for our first ride in the park. No one in the park had a mask on and no one seemed to be all that concerned about social distancing. Up until that point I had never understood why anyone would willingly give up meat, but if the moral superiority of watching someone eat meat when you don’t is anything like I felt when looking at all the obvious bad choices the water park patrons had made (tattoos, over eating, piercings, being at a waterpark) I totally got why my goofy brother in law wanted to eat an impossible burger from Bk instead of going to Arby’s.

Next up on the waterpark tour was Flow Rider,(It had to be good with a name that similar to my favorite rapper Flo Rida) this was a simulator that allowed the kids to boogie board on a man made wave. There was probably a point in time where I would have tried this with the kids but I opted to take video of it instead of ending up in the back of an ambulance. Aiden was first up and did better than I had expected but still not good, Parker did fine and the kids seemed to have enjoyed it. We then proceeded to another water slide that was one we rode individually as opposed to the first slide where we were all together on a tube. This slide was a lot harder on the body and the kids decided they wanted to go play in a part of the park that seemed to be designated for kids half their age but I went along with it because it allowed me to sit on the sidelines. I went to gather our stuff and bring it to the play area so that I could try and keep an eye on them. Somehow they had managed to sneak out of the park and back to the room while I had gone to gather our belongings and face timed me from their I pad asking me where I was as I stood guard thinking I was watching them. I assumed that they would want to come back to the water park since we had only been there a little over an hour, they didn’t. At this point in the trip I became seriously conflicted, do I make them come back down so we can all be miserable in the water park but get our moneys worth? Or do I concede the fact that this was a bad idea (going to a water park during normal circumstances is a bad idea, during a pandemic it’s probably a sign of true desperation) and go back to the room for some leisure time? My desire to get away from the pasty fat tattooed patrons of the water park won out and we didn’t set foot back in the water park for the remainder of the trip.

Who would have thought that my kids deciding to retreat to the hotel room may have saved thousands of lives? The unfortunate thing is that with Shirley getting tested we are now on the Health Department’s radar and they are claiming the kids can’t go back to school until January 21. The complete overreaction continues, with no rhyme or reason as to why the protocols are done or why they need to be followed. Aiden had a headache at some point and Parker has yet to experience any symptoms but they can’t go back to school for over two weeks? They wear masks and social distance at school and they don’t have any symptoms. On top of that I’m riding a roller coaster when it comes to Shirley, one minute she’s telling me I don’t care about people (I don’t) and that I brought Covid into our house and the next minute she’s making fun of her mom for saying “you just never know” when it comes to Covid. What’s it going to be? Pick a lane, either this is complete nonsense and you have no respect for those people who have lived the last ten months in fear, or everyone who questions the legitimacy of this is a monster on the level of Ted Bundy or Roger Goodell. The good news is that getting it prior to our trip in mid February to St. Thomas is a blessing, contracting Covid right before we are suppose to leave won’t be a problem, I need that trip more than I have needed anything in my life, had you given me a date certain as to when this nonsense would be done I could work towards that goal, but with no end in sight and not much to look forward to, that trip is the only thing keeping me putting one foot in front of the other.

In the early fall Parker had gone on an overnight to a friends and it was just me, Shirley, and Aiden. We were scrolling through movies and decided to let Aiden watch the Matrix even though it was rated R. Aiden was quite excited to find out it was rated R and that we were going to allow him to watch it. Typically I will search Google and type in something like “Is Basic Instinct Ok for kids?” There’s a site called common sense media where parents way in about what is and isn’t ok for kids. Obviously, this is quite subjective and there would be very few movies I would put off limits if people were seeking my advice. This all started when I was a kid and my Grandpa Jansma let me watch Blue Lagoon, I was probably five or six and it was the first time I had seen bare breasts other than in a National Geographic magazine. Let me tell you Brook Shields had much more to offer than anything I had stumbled upon under the guise of being interested in geography. That was where it all started and along the way my uncles took me to a number of rated R movies where I saw things that were well beyond my years desensitizing me to things that many of the kids my age were deprived of seeing unless they had an older sibling or uncle like I did.

To be honest, the Matrix had a lot of violence, but that was about it, there wasn’t much swearing (Aiden and Parker already know all the swear words anyway) and there weren’t any adult situations in the first one. Not long after Aiden was introduced to his first R rated movie a friend of the kids came over with his older brother and dad for the Michigan Minnesota game. We sent George (the friend) Parker, and Aiden into the basement to watch Terminator. I just pulled up common sense media and this little tidbit would have come in handy the night I thought Michigan was destined to finally win the National Championship with their Heisman Trophy winning QB Milton. Skip the sex scene at 81 minutes and an 11 year old can watch it. Unfortunately, in my excitement to watch Michigan I didn’t do much research and just sent the kids down to the basement and instructed Shirley to put Terminator on for them. At the 82 minute mark all three kids came running up stairs and exclaimed “we saw titties!” I knew there was a sex scene in Terminator but wasn’t too concerned about it due to the fact that Shirley had already given them a tutorial on the birds and the bees over a year ago with the help of a book she ordered off from Amazon. Sadly, I can’t find the book on Amazon to copy and paste the cover in my blog, it was likely discontinued due to the fact that Shirley was the only one who purchased it, on the cover of the book it showed two parents under the covers of their bed, presumably naked, with smiles on their faces. No idea if this was suppose to depict pre-coitus activity or post coitus activity, but either way if they wanted it to be realistic the woman would be frowning not smiling, either in anticipation of what she would be doing for the next 45 seconds or out of disappointment over what had transpired over the past 45 seconds.

We need to go back to the sex tutorial by Shirley, my kids were probably 8 and 6 when they were given the “talk”. I thought it was a little early for that, when I was in fourth grade Darlene Doornbos was the one who dropped the news about the birds and the bees on me at recess. I told her it couldn’t be true, my parents would never do that, turns out they did it four times, each time resulting in the conception of a human being, what are the odds? I really didn’t want my kids being the Darlene Doornbos of their generation, but my Laissez faire parenting style doesn’t lend well to me putting up a fight when it comes to Shirley’s bad ideas so I just let it slide. I guess the good news is that they aren’t going to learn about sex from one of their classmates on the play ground and spend the rest of the school day traumatized by the thought of their parents doing the nasty.

A lot of parents would wonder why we, mainly me, would show our kids rated R movies and I have a perfectly good explanation as to how we have arrived at this point. Fucking Whitmer, that’s how. When she shut everything down in the spring we ended up having a Jansma movie night every night. Well, there are only so many shitty PG and G movies you can watch before you realize exposing your child to adult content is much better than slowly loosing IQ points by being forced to watch movies that have some type of connection to Adam Sandler or Kevin James. Unfortunately, I had made a tactical error prior to Thanksgiving and told my kids we could watch Mad Max Fury Road, Common Sense Media suggests the earliest age a kid could watch the latest installation of Mad Max would be 14, but they don’t realize how mature my kids actually are, they already know about sex and are quite sophisticated when it comes to swearing. The problem with the Max Max Fury Road watch party is that my mom is living with us and she is now on our couch in the TV room roughly 23 and a half hours a day. My mom was one of the most vigilant protectors of my and my siblings purity growing up and there is no way I can let her know that I am cool with letting my kids watch an R rated movie, even if it is super kick ass and will blow their minds.

I have had two people inquire as to why I have not renewed my blog and continue to write, with roughly 75% of my readership on pins and needles awaiting my return to the keyboard I figured I owed it to them to continue to plow forward in these trying times and write about my life, the Dutch life. I just purchased a new domain Dutchlife.blog, I have no idea how to transfer this domain and blog to that domain but I am sure I should be able to figure it out at some point.

My latest misadventure occurred last week Thursday as I was taking the kids to school. I typically take the kids to school and they take the bus home. This gives me an opportunity to talk to them about a lot of different things, unfortunately that morning I was preoccupied due to the fact that the driver in front of me was a terrible driver. He almost caused an accident by making a left turn in front of a car turning left onto the street we were on. I am pretty sure the guy didn’t have any idea that he had almost caused an accident and continued on his merry way. The road he turned onto, as did I, is a windy road with a 35mph speed limit. However, he slowed all the way down to 20 mph and I was in no mood to be stuck behind him so I took the opportunity to get around him in a no passing zone, I hit the gas and Aiden looked at me and said “what the fuck!” fortunately this was not a surprise and did not hamper me from focusing on getting past the vehicle ahead of me. While my driving was not exactly in compliance with local and state traffic laws it was the proper thing to do. The only problem with my move, other than almost causing Aiden to poop his pants out of fear, was that there was a stop sign coming up and I as I passed the annoyingly slow driver he lost his shit and gave me double middle fingers. As I pulled up to the stop sign I rolled my window down and began yelling in his direction that he was a terrible driver. My kids were dismayed but this did not stop me from yelling. He pulled out quite aggressively and tailgated me all the way to my next turn. Had he driven like that in the first place we wouldn’t have been in the situation.

There has been a lot going on since I last blogged, and most of it hasn’t been good. One of those things, the result of the presidential election, has been a hot topic in our home. While I voted for the Libertarian presidential candidate, I still was hoping that Sleepy Joe would either lose or die before the results were certified. However, something tells me that had he passed away, his VP would have become president which may have ended up being a worse result, just like if Michigan was somehow able to unburden itself of it’s current imbecile of a governor, her lieutenant governor would just take over and do the same misguided and illogical things that she is currently doing in the name of saving lives. Regardless of your political affiliation, this is nonsense. That being said, Aiden asked me shortly after Biden had “won” the election “why does Trump keep trying to win?” Obviously there are a lot of reasons, but I simplified it for him. “Aiden, Trump wants to win because Biden is going to make a horrible president.” “why dad, why will he be a horrible president?”

“Well Aiden, he wants to take your stuff away and give it to people who don’t have stuff, in the alternative he wants to take mom and dad’s stuff away so we can’t buy you more stuff.”

“You mean he wants to take my legos away and give them to someone else?”

“Yes, and the person he gives your legos to may not even like legos or even know how to put legos together.”

His perspective on Biden and Trump has changed significantly since our conversation.

Speaking of stuff, my kids have been pestering me about a new x box or PS5. While I have never been that into video games, when it comes to something like this its more the thrill of the hunt than the actual kill. For some reason I had my mind set on getting my hands on a PS5 or an XBOX. The problem is the inventory for either one was even slimmer than indoor dining options in Michigan the past three weeks. Walmart was going to have them available the Wednesday night before Thanksgiving at 9pm and Game Stop would have a few in the store Black Friday morning. I missed my window on Wednesday night and logged on around 9:20 to discover Walmart was all sold out. I had stopped at Game stop that day to see what they had to offer but the clerk would not tell me how many they would have available, she did indicate that people would likely start lining up Thanksgiving night, as Aiden would say “What the Fuck?” I decided to jump on Ebay which required me to create an account, I may have had an account in the early 2000’s but I did not remember the specifics so I created a new one. I immediately found an X box to bid on and was outbid in a matter of minutes. I was honest with myself and realized that Ebay wasn’t the platform for me to obtain a gaming console. However, there was one thing that I knew would not let me down, Craigslist, it has never failed me, I managed to obtain a pitcher for our co-ed softball team off Craigslist as well as a place to keep my boat that allowed me access to the Thornapple river. I am sure there have been a lot of other good things that have come my way via Craig’s List, but the list is too long and my memory is too short to list them all. I managed to make contact with Ray out of East Lansing and scheduled a rendezvous at the East Lansing Police Department Friday morning at 9am. In my mind I would meet Ray I would tell him my kids are spoiled rotten and that they didn’t deserve this. I would also got on to tell him about how horrible my child hood was and that my parents would never have done something this amazing for me or my siblings even though I at least, deserved something like this way more than my kids deserve it. I would finish the meeting by telling him that I am probably the world’s greatest dad and even though I am, my kids will show very little gratitude when they open the X box and I will immediately regret giving them such a selfless gift and that my kids will have no idea the kind of shit I went through to pull this off.

As I approached East Lansing I received a text from Ray wondering if I was close, I texted him back that I was about five minutes out. He indicated he was in a blue Explorer, my heart started racing, this was really happening, the fruits of my labor were finally going to pay off and I was about to obtain one of the most coveted Christmas gifts for my kids in 2020. I pulled up handed over the undisclosed amount of cash, he counted it and proceeded to hand me the new X box unopened in its box. It was anticlimactic to say the least. On my way home Shirley called and asked where I was, I told her I had been doing some Black Friday shopping. “You bought an X box didn’t you?”

“Yes”

“How much did you pay for it?”

“%$^&***”

“You paid what for it!”

“Just let this be my thing”

In the past I have coached, as both head and assistant, Parker and Aiden’s basketball teams. That being said, I foolishly volunteered to coach Parker’s YMCA 1st and 2nd grade soccer team having little knowledge of soccer. But with no one stepping up to the plate they needed a hero, and well, I appear to be the only one willing to save the day. Unfortunately, I threw my name in the hat before I was told there would be a mask requirement for coaches and players alike during practice (and if games ever happen) games. Yesterday, was the first day of practice and I stopped at Meijer for shin guards and foolishly bought the ones that are socks and shin guards all in one. When Parker tried them on after school he hated them and we had to stop at Meijer again. While Parker played on the phone in my car (there’s actually a misdemeanor in Michigan a parent can be charged with for leaving their child in the car, I’ve left mine in the car 100’s of times, they actually prefer it to going in the store) I raced in to get Socks for him. Not knowing what his exact shoe size was I picked up a medium sized pair. When he started putting them on it was apparent he could get them up to his shoulders. I tried to convince him that they were like tights (which are all the rage these days) but he wasn’t having it. I ran back in and out of the store with a mask on (I have no idea how Whitmer thinks people can work out in a mask, I almost passed out doing roughly 90 seconds of mildly strenuous exercise) to grab a pair of small sized socks. These only went up to his navel, and it took quite a bit of coaxing to talk him into them.

We arrived at the Y to find the entire team assembled on a picnic table. The Y instructions for practices preclude parents from going onto the field and require them to stay behind the fence. As I approached with my bag of disinfected soccer balls (apparently you can transmit the virus if it has contact with a child’s soccer cleats) there was an adult by my team. Immediately I regretted not making Aiden come to practice with me. Initially he had volunteered to be my assistant coach, which had some plusses and minuses to it. First of all, with him as my assistant coach I would look like Bill Belichik when he had Matt Patricia as his defensive coordinator under this scenario. Secondly, I wouldn’t have some parent constantly looking over my shoulder as I coached (verbally assaulted) my team. The downside is that none of the players would listen to anything Aiden said so I would have no help when it came to herding the cats during practice and games (if they ever happen). Regardless, Aiden decided staying home and doing homework was a better option than being my right hand man. Had he been there I could have told the parent I already had an assistant coach and that he could go stand behind the fence with the other parents.

In preparation for practice I searched youtube for soccer drills that I could run the kids through. The problem is that I wrote the drills down but without the video on me to show how to do them I was somewhat lost (I tried to demonstrate the first drill and Parker yelled “you’re just as bad as we are”). I faked my way through what I could fake my way through and then when I ran out of material I decided to find out who the fastest kid on the team was. I asked the team if they wanted to know who the fastest kid on the team was and only the fat kid didn’t. However, there were a few of them who claimed they already knew and they pointed to one of the kids, no idea what his name was or is, the only kids I know are the two Parker’s, mine and the assistant coaches son’s. (His is a complete spazz and wouldn’t listen to me, forcing his dad to try to make him run laps, which his kid didn’t do) I started pitting kids against one another in what looked to be about a twenty yard sprint. While they started out at least five feet apart, most of them inevitably ran across the other’s path leading to multiple collisions. I put the five winners on the line for the final heat and sure enough the kid who was the odds on favorite to be the fastest, was. As the parents were looking on, as well as the head of the sports program for the Y, I kept my mask off. What were they going to do? Fire me? All the other coaches were wearing theirs and some of the kids made somewhat of an effort to wear theirs, but how was I going to effectively yell at the kids with a mask on?

After practice I met up with Shirley and Aiden for dinner at Old Chicago. This was my first trip there since the imaginary thing called Covid ruined my life. I discovered that they had a limited menu, were closing at 8, and there was only one waitress. Ultimately, Shirley and I decided to try a different place and after finding out the wait at the Cheesecake Factory was 90 minutes (shorter than normal) Shirley called the Grand Rapids Beer and bread company which use to be Arnies (what landmark Grand Rapids Eatery is next? Please don’t say Russ’s) The person she spoke to said they were open but I was skeptical, there was one maybe two cars in the parking lot when we initially drove by, and even if they were open, the amount of traffic was not an encouraging sign. I rolled up and a guy came running out to tell me they were only open for carry out, probably the same dipshit who said yes to Shirley when she asked if they were open. The fact that someone answers the phone is a clue you are open, the fact we didn’t proceed to order carry out should have made them realize we meant are you open for dining? It worked out, we landed at Buddy’s and their pizza was solid and it was the rare time I have been there where immediate seating was available.

This morning as we were getting ready for school Aiden took his daily pill without water and immediately began to cry and act like he was going to die. In his quest for water to dislodge the pill, I called him a drama queen and he called me a bitch, this is landmark, he’s never called me anything close to that before, only his brother. When I said I was going to punish him Shirley came to his defense and said that it was justified because I called him a drama queen (which he is, along with a pussy, and a lot of other things). She went on to remind me of all the awful things my dad called me when I was a kid not realizing, that while one would think it had a negative effect on me, it actually toughened me up to the point that no one can hurt my feelings. On top of that, Shirley had just told me how we need to be consistent with one another in our parenting, this may have been in reference to when I told the kids they could watch South Park and Shirley immediately vetoed the idea. I responded by downplaying Shirley’s concern over South Park, indicating the show had a lot of redeeming qualities that overcome it’s glamorization of pedophiles as well as it’s mockery of pretty much every religion including Christianity. That being said, it’s still not nearly as bad as Rick and Morty.

Well, I let the bitch comment slide and on our way to school Parker asked me why I don’t like Joe Biden. Had the kids still been in NPC the twenty minute ride may have been adequate for me to voice all of the displeasures I have with Sleepy Joe. However, we only have seven minutes so I could only go into a few of them. First of all his perpetuation of the fictitious Corona Virus “Pandemic” while only intended to gain him an upper hand in the national election, has ruined my life by forcing me outdoors to play basketball (try shooting three pointers in a swirling 15mph wind) while at the same time precluded me from eating Old Chicago Tavern Thin Pizza and their mouth watering Pepperoni Rolls. On top of that, he won’t stand up to the radical BLM movement that poses under the guise that rioting and looting is a way for blacks to get the justice they deserve for something that happened to their ancestors 100’s of years ago while punishing people who had nothing to do with the biggest transgression of our great nation (I’m referring to how many of the leaders in the movement have refered to this as reparations, and am not addressing the issue of police brutality or racism, I’ll save that for another day, maybe). I didn’t go into all of this, I just rattled off some stuff that kept the conversation moving forward and then explained to them that just because I am likely to vote for Trump it doesn’t mean I like him. I am actually voting against Biden and Harris, more specifically Harris who has the most liberal voting record in the Senate, even more to the left than Bernie Sanders. Regardless, this was a watershed moment for me, my kids, to their credit and because of the internet, know way more of what’s going on in the world than I did at their age. And because of this, I have the opportunity to somewhat shape how they view things now and moving forward (at least until they are teenagers and hate me, and don’t listen to a word I say) I can’t get anyone else to give much credence to anything I say, and Shirley is usually there to throw in her two cents, but that time with them in the car on the way to school will be transformative for all three of us.

On the way to bringing the kids into school on Friday Aiden said to me “they don’t talk about God at all in our new school.” (the kids were now in a public school after spending their entire scholastic career in a Christian school). I responded by telling him that they can’t talk about Jesus in their school because that would be promoting one religion over another which is prohibited by the Constitution (at least I think it is). Aiden went on to say that he routinely asks people if they are Christians, which in his defense is probably one of the lest awkward things he does around strangers and a really good strategy for making friends at his new school. Parker went on to ask me a much a much simpler question “Dad, do they teach you to kill people in military school?” After dropping the kids off at school I had to jet to Hudsonville to handle a drunk driving case where the officer, upon pulling my client over, discovered that she had spilled food all over her chest. Unfortunately, the officer did not elaborate in the police report as to what culinary delight was spilled on her chest but I am going with Nachos Bell Grande.

It’s unusual that I spend much time in the office on a Friday but I found myself there for most of the morning and headed home around 1 so I would have plenty of time to prep for my afternoon outdoor hoop run. I have taken charge of organizing the outdoor runs since Covid hit and made a mistake a seasoned veteran should not make. I ended up panicking and inviting people before all the invitees had weighed in as to their status. Ideally we have 12 show up, but we ended up with fifteen, which would have been fine had a complete rando not surfaced during the middle of the first game. The guy was wearing track pants and no shirt and decided to insert himself into the mix even though it was obvious no one wanted him to join as evidenced by none of the fifteen of us making eye contact with him. I get it, you have no friends, your gym has been closed for six months, and you just want to hoop. However, it was quite evident that our run was a group of guys who knew each other and it had been put together ahead of time. That being said, what do you do? The answer should have been tell him he can’t play. On top of being a rando, he was an obnoxious rando who made Kyrie Irving seem like a team player. Fortunately for me, he managed to get under the skin of not only me, but also the nicest guy who plays with us. Even more fortunate for me, the nicest guy decided to verbally attack him so that I didn’t have to do so (the rando was a lot bigger than me).

The 15mph swirling wind and the fact that the rando showed up on top of invitees taking it upon themselves to invite additional players led to a very forgettable day until I was packing up and heading to my vehicle. We had an additional rando show up who took the originally rando’s place, but instead of being the second coming of Kyrie Irving mixed with Rosie O’Donnell he was a quiet version of Karl Malone, but white and not nearly as good. The new rando, named Pete, and I were talking as everyone was dispersing, when a dude in weenie benders and a polo rolled up and asked “you guys ready to ball? I played in high school and I’m pretty good.” Pete let it slip that we had just got done playing which led to “do you guys play here regularly? What time?” Had Pete not avoided answering the question we would have been forced to find a new hoops venue. Thankfully instead he told him that there is a run at night typically and that people start arriving around 5:30. Captain weenie benders then focused his attention on me and asked “what are your favorite basketball shoes? I like Nike Zooms, they are nice and light.” I don’t like to talk to people even when I shoot 80% form behind the arc and win all my games, when my shooting percentage is in the teens and I only muster one victory I turn into Oscar the Grouch. (also I was certain there had to be a hidden camera somewhere) I didn’t really give him much of a response so he just kept moving forward “Oh, I see you have some Jordan’s there, do you like those?” I realized that I was either going to have to make a run for my car or engage him, and the fact that I couldn’t find my Apple Watch left option one out of the question. “I like them but I have been trying some other shoes as well, I actually have been wearing Adidas lately on top of Nike’s” “So, Kobe’s?” If it wasn’t obvious this guy was a moron to begin with, it was now, Kobe hadn’t been with Adidas since mid range jumpers and defense were all the rage. Thankfully I was able to locate my watch and get the heck out of there, but not before the dude stripped off his polo and began to go to work on his jumper.

When I returned home I discovered that the kids hover boards had arrived and Shirley was in the process of assembling Aidens while Parker was trying his out. To Shirley’s credit this was not a random purchase for the kids, this was a half birthday present, or in Aidens case a 5/6th birthday present since his birthday is in November. Her logic is that since both of the kids have birthdays during inclimate weather months they should be given their birthday presents when it is warm. This is something that has been passed down from her mom who would buy Shirley and her siblings presents months before their birthdays, even when we were just dating I remember Shirley getting a vacuum months ahead of her actual birthday. A vacuum is a gift that can be given and immediately used any time of year so I’m not sure what the logic was, if any, in Shirley receiving the gift well before her birthday. Furthermore, my birthday is in February, but I would have never been able to make the warm weather argument with my parents because my presents sucked no matter what time of year I would have received them, and being able to play with them immediately during the summer wouldn’t have enhanced there value to me. Did a lot of other kids have shitty childhoods? Of course they did, but it didn’t make me feel better about it then nor does it now. What’s great about this half birthday thing for the kids is that they will still get a bunch of presents from Shirley on their actual birthday, it’s what you call a win win as opposed to everything that happened in my child hood which was a lose lose.

Shortly after the hover boards were assembled Shirley brought Parker over to his friend Carl’s (not his real name)house for a sleep over. While it is nice to split the kids up every once in a while so that one of them (Parker) doesn’t kill the other in their sleep, whenever one of them is away the other sleeps in our bed. This means that I don’t even have a shot at talking Shirley into some business time, but sometimes knowing it isn’t going to happen ahead of time is actually better than knowing it isn’t going to happen when you are in the process of trying to make it happen. That being said, we ended up watching the first Matrix, which is rated R, but the internet said was suitable for kids around 12. Due to the fact Aiden is almost ten and has the maturity of a six year old we made the executive decision to let him watch it. The entire movie he kept saying “I don’t know why this is rated R.”

Parker was dropped off the following day and it was determined without any input from me that Carl was going to stay over. This was problematic for a couple of reasons. First of all, Carl and Parker typically go after one another like rabid dogs when they have been together for more than 24 hours and two, I don’t like Carl. I don’t like most kids, but I really don’t like Carl. Whenever Carl doesn’t get his way he threatens to go home, which is fine by me, but he lives twenty minutes away so it’s an empty threat but one that illustrates what a spoiled dick he can be. He threatened to go home when we were going to watch a movie he didn’t like and did so randomly at least three other times. Fortunately, Sunday morning he made the threat for some unknown reason and we took him up on it and immediately shuttled him home. We decided to go to breakfast after dropping him off and everything went well until the bill arrived. I have gone out to eat so infrequently that my tip math is way off, I almost left twice the tip for our waitress due to my infrequency of having to calculate 8% (just kidding, I’m a generous tipper, at least in Dutch circles). I scratched over the initial tip and put down the correct one with very little room to spare, that was a close one and likely something that would have haunted me all the way up to the Lions blowing another sizable 4th quarter lead had I not caught it.

When it came to enrolling the kids in school this year we were fortunate to have options that involved in person learning. Due to the difficulty of distance learning in Spanish we decided to switch the kids from Northpointe Christian to Caledonia Public Schools. Their first day was on the 25th and the school has somehow managed to remain open despite the high school being shut down due to an over reaction to three students and a staff member getting hit by the Vid. Last week as one of Parker’s projects his teacher gave him a piece of colored construction paper where he had to fill out where he went, who he spent time with, what he did, and what he learned. For the where he went portion he stated camping, with a rudimentary picture of our motorhome. For who he spent time with he said his mom and drew a rudimentary picture of them together. For what he did he put “had fun with my dad” but there was no drawing. For what he learned he put “where Natsyis come from”. Shirley was the one who was first to see the project and asked Parker what Natsyis was, and what he really meant was where Nazi’s come from. I do remember the topic of Nazi’s being brought up on our camping trip, but I don’t remember discussing their origins. The funny thing is his teacher put “Great Job !” at the top of his paper.

While school has gone off without the typical amount of hype a normal school year does, the current pandemic has created some problems when it comes to getting the kids to school. Even though I think my kids are soft, it was center of the sun hot for their first week of school and they are required to “Mask Up” on the bus, which has no air conditioning. So, I brought them in the first week, and every other parent did the same thing. This created complete gridlock due to the fact that their school has only one access point for dropping kids off and picking them up. One morning a women in a white Telluride was at the absolute front of the line as no less than 60 of cars waited to get into the drop zone. The kids aren’t allowed to unload until 8:30, so everyone was at a stand still. As the order was given that kids could head in to the school the women got out of her car opened the door for her kid and gave them a hug and a kiss. I have no patience for most people, but this was unforgivable, you think coddling your kids is so important that you are willing to hold up the drop off line for hundreds of people? When I am approaching the drop zone I treat my kids like they are paratroopers, I start prepping them, you got your back back? You got your water bottle? You have your extra underwear? (they don’t really have extra underwear, hopefully they are smart enough that if they have an accident they toss out the soiled underwear and go commando the rest of the day). As we near the drop point I start yelling GO! GO! GO! at the top of my lungs. I’ve always been conscientious about holding people up, there are times when I go through the U scan and am filled with disappointment as I walk to my car knowing I could have done better especially in light of the line I of people I left behind me.

This morning Shirley was already busy on a Zoom call before the kids were even awake. The plan was for them to take the bus which arrives at the bus stop at 7:57. I walked into their room to find them both sleeping in the same bed (they have their own beds). The night prior Aiden had opened our door to see if we were still there and woke me up in the process. Whenever someone wakes me up I lose my shit and start yelling at them. Unfortunately that consequence hasn’t kept him from giving in to his irrational fear that we are just going to up and leave him and Parker in the middle of the night. When I woke them up and asked them why they were in the same bed Aiden immediately claimed Parker, unsolicited, climbed into bed with him. However, I know that’s bullshit because I have heard Aiden whispering to Parker to come into bed with him on multiple occasions.

Parker and I made our way downstairs at roughly t minus 20 and started prepping for their departure to the bus. I made the kids lunches and got a bagel ready for Parker. Unfortunately, Parker didn’t like the socks I picked out for him but he was able to find a pair that met his approval, possibly in the dirty clothes pile that constantly guards our laundry room entryway. The clock was still ticking and Aiden was no where to be found. I asked Parker what was going on with Aiden even though he was just as likely to know as I was. Parker figured he was probably taking a dump as did I. Aiden, despite having his own bathroom with a toilet, sink, and shower, takes a dump in ours every morning along with a shower. I could run a 5k in the time it takes that kid to take a crap so I assumed that he was on the throne and made my way upstairs with a bit of concern that the kids weren’t going to make it to the bus in time. However, instead of finding him on the new toilet with an elongated bowl I installed last month, he was in the shower dipshitting around with a luffa. When I found him in the shower I sternly told him to get out of the shower because he was going to be late for the bus if he didn’t. He accused me of yelling at him and started to cry. I have made a concerted effort to limit my yelling to situations where someone wakes me up, have I been perfect in that attempt, no, but I definitely didn’t yell at him. (also I am fully aware that a fourth grader should not be crying at all, but especially not under the circumstances I just described)

All the commotion caught Shirley’s attention and she indicated that she would bring the kids in to school, alleviating all the anxiety stemming from trying to get the kids to the bus stop by 7:57. Recently, Aiden has gotten into saying “your mom’s so stupid…” not realizing he is referencing his grandma or “kindergartners are so stupid”. So, this morning he started his joke off with “your mom is so stupid” but immediately changed it to kindergartners are so stupid when he saw the look of displeasure on my face. “kindergartners are so stupid that they think serial killers are going to kill their cereal.” Obviously not funny and obviously I am not going to pretend it’s funny. I told him what would actually be funny is to say kindergartners are so stupid that when a serial killer comes around they hide their Frosted Flakes. Both he and Parker agreed that was hilarious and I’m certain Aiden will use it at the most inopportune time today at school and likely botch it in the process.

It’s a blessing and a curse to be as funny as I am. The curse part of it is to see your oldest son utterly fail at comedy 99% of the time. I guess to his credit he keeps trying, and maybe I am his harshest critic and need to put things on a fourth grade level. One of the kids in his class last year said he was the funniest kid in their class, my response was “you know Cole, I just don’t see it.”

Last week the Jansma’s took our standard late August vacation. I had originally booked it for this week not knowing school started for my kids today, in person, can you believe that? I had big plans for this week that involved going to the UP with our motor home and making our way all the way over to the Porcupine Mountains. Due to having to call an audible I changed the location to Traverse City and found a campground just south of town on 31. Parker and I took the mini van up and Aiden rode in the motor home with Shirley, I imagine this is how the rest of life is going to play out for the most part, not that I don’t like Aiden, but he is to Shirley as are grapes to wine. Unfortunately, I had an idea in my head as to where the campground was and that idea wasn’t even close to the actual location, resulting in me showing up to the campground well over an hour after Shirley did despite the fact that I drive at least 20 MPH faster than she does. Now I should have known this going in because when I booked the site it was the last one available, but it sucked, it was the Red Roof Inn of campsites, no shade, on the main road and right up against another campsite.

The good thing about showing up an hour late was that Shirley had everything set up so all I had to do is get dinner going. Typically my Saturday morning consists of me getting up hours before my family, water skiing, playing tennis, and running errands. However, I had no one to play tennis with nor did I have anyone to ski with or anything to ski behind. What was I going to do to fill up my Saturday morning? Was I going to be forced into spending time with my family on a Saturday morning? As was typical, I was up well before my family and decided to take Shirley’s van for an oil change. This was out of necessity, not because I needed to make up something to pass the time, she was 3,000 miles over the suggested mileage, I typically go 300 to 500 over but I never get in to quadruple digits.

As I was finishing up my oil change and about to pull out of the garage the head guy began to engage me in conversation, instead of peeling out and getting the hell out of there I made a huge mistake, I nodded my head and pretended to be interested in what he was saying. He began by telling me that he was in the process of starting a repo business, had an ebay store where he sold boat parts, transported classic cars all over the country, and was starting his own mechanic’s shop. “I won’t even go out West anymore, don’t let my guys go out there either” he said, although I strongly doubted he had any guys to not let go out West. I knew where this was going but there was no way to stop it now, and then he went on to tell me how a lady from the CDC was at the oil change place in November and that he was pretty sure he had Corona back then along with everyone who worked there. On top of that he knew a guy in Traverse City who was in charge of testing and that guy submitted 300 tests that had not been sampled, they were just blank test kits, and they all came back positive.

About ten percent of what he said seemed spot on, but the fact that 90% of what he said was bat shit crazy coupled with how unbelievable it was made that 10% irrelevant. I finally told him I had to get back to the campground to spend time with my family (lie) just so I could get out of there. However, it wasn’t before he was able to get into the black lives matter thing with me, and by what I mean by with me is that he was trying to gauge if it was safe to use any racial slurs when referring to “them”. I don’t want to get too political here, but there are segments of the BLM movement that have taken on similarities to a person on a Mart Cart at an all you can eat buffet. Should they have stopped after they had a second plate, three desserts, and a soft serve ice cream sundae? Yes, yes they should have but their elastic pants had a little bit of give left, and their crocs weren’t buckling to the point of possibly exploding so why not grab another plate? The BLM movement has made its point and have brought about a heightened awareness to certain social issues, the problem is they aren’t satisfied with a couple plates and a few desserts. I never gave him a read so he refrained from any potential offensive language and stuck to the basics.

One of the highlights of the trip was a canoe trip down the Platte river. I took charge when we arrived at the canoe livery and walked up to the first available attendant maskeless. It’s likely he drove his moped to work that day and couldn’t have been a day over 16. I had already decided we were getting a canoe and a tube to tie to the canoe in case the canoe was cramped. As I was completing the transaction Shirley stepped up and said maybe this guy doesn’t like you breathing on him and you should put your mask on? In my defense I wasn’t breathing on him and to top it off we were outdoors. Regardless, with Shirley the mask Nazi looking over my shoulder I was forced to put on my mask when she said “you are not going to like the consequences of not wearing a mask”. As resistant as I am to wearing a mask when faced with maintaining my personal liberty or maintaining my sex life, I’ll choose my sex life every time.

Shirley didn’t stop at ordering me to wear my mask, she also butted in and suggested that we get two canoes, two canoes? I’m awesome, my hand eye coordination is probably in the top 1 percent of the entire world and I can do many things, but I can’t paddle two canoes at one time. I quickly nixed the idea and we settled on a tube and a canoe. The journey started with Shirley paddling for roughly 90 seconds before she left our forward momentum entirely up to me. I had been on many canoe trips with Shirley and new this was ultimately going to be my fate so it wasn’t that big of a deal. The first half of the trip was fairly uneventful until we got to the point where the river turned into a lake, once that occurred there was no current to compensate for the fact that I was paddling my entire family down the river. On top of that the wind was blowing fiercely across the lake making it twice as hard to paddle solo while dragging Shirley and Parker in the tube. Aiden was in the front and vying for a spot in the Special Olympics Canoe race, fortunately every one wins at the Special Olympics. As I paddled and he tried to, he began to yell “I hate you wind, I hate you!” at the top of his lungs, what he should hate is his genetics and the fact that he got way more Shirley and not enough me. Parker on the other hand was a natural manning the paddle, too bad he realized sooner rather than later it was a lot of unnecessary work since Dad was willing to do all the paddling.

Making it through the lake was not truly the half way point, there was a point where we needed to get the canoe out of the water and carry it roughly 30 feet and put it back in the water. The term for this, which was entirely new to me, was portage, as in “you will need to portage your canoe, and your family will just sit there and watch you portage your canoe, they may even jump in while you portage your canoe”. I though portage was just the name of a town outside of Kalamazoo. When we got to the portage site it was a bottle neck, it didn’t have to be, but it was because a family with two grown ass children and their parents were screwing things up. The mom sat down in the canoe before it was floating along with the family dog as one of the sons tried to drag her fat ass far enough into the water so that it would float. It took all of my self control to keep from yelling “get out of the canoe tubby!” Eventually he was able to pull his mom far enough to get her to float but not before suffering a mild hernia. Next up was pops, he ws in a kayak and did the exact same thing, requiring the other kid to drag his ass into floatable water. I may do this exact thing to my kids some day, not because I’m on the dull side, purely out of revenge for all of the additional shitty things they will have done to me by that point in life.

After we were able to portage, (it sounds like something you do at an international space station) we stumbled upon the deadliest thing any river has to offer this side of the Amazon, that’s right, a rope swing. This thing was set up to paralyze or even possibly kill someone. Shirley instantly objected to utilizing the rope swing, the problem is its not in the Jansma DNA to turn their back on possible paralysis or death, a Jansma must face it head on hoping to come out the other side in once piece. To my credit I did wade out to see how deep the river was and it was up to my chest, so I wouldn’t be diving but everything else was fair game. To make matters even more treacherous, there was a sword like piece of a tree coming out of the water right in the swings landing zone. I went first and it was fucking awesome, like pretty much every rope swing. Parker was next, but to put Shirley at ease I stood in the water so that if things went sideways I could make sure Parker didn’t impale himself on the piece of tree sticking it’s head out of the water as if it were a menacing crocodile. Success, Parker didn’t even come close to gutting himself on the piece of tree protruding from the river. Aiden was up next, I clenched my butt cheeks as he grabbed the rope swing knowing that if anyone was going to have a brush with death or at least serious bodily impairment, it was going to be him and I had to be on my A game to keep that from happening or else wearing the mask at the canoe livery would have been a complete waste of time. Sure enough, he let go way too soon and almost landed stomach first on the branch, without me there he would have probably lost a large portion of his intestines.

Our final day found us renting a pontoon boat on Torch Lake. I had never been to Torch Lake, but was under the impression it was something to behold. As we headed out it became evident that it was extremely windy, which was a cause for concern since we were going to be boating on a very large lake. When we arrived at the marina the women in charge was dealing with another customer. When she finished up and made her way to me it was evident that she was the type of person who was always frazzled regardless of the circumstances. The marina only had 8 boats to rent so how stressful could it get? I assured her that she was not dealing with a novice, I owned a Mastercraft ski boat and was even wearing my Mastercraft hat to prove it to her. She didn’t need to explain how a boat worked to me, I had this. The kids insisted they were going to want to tube, something I should have put the kabosh on in light of the hurricane type winds. I didn’t and we rented the tube for $50, the exact same tube I bought at Dunhams on close out last summer for $80.

We puttered down the Torch River on our way to the lake, the river was a no wake zone and it seemed like it took an eternity to get out to the lake even though it was fifteen minutes tops. Once we got out to the lake the it was obvious this was the wrong day to rent a pontoon. However, we were not to be deterred, I put the hammer down and we headed into the bowels of Torch Lake. White caps grew in size as we approached the middle of the lake, a great time to take down the bimini top on the pontoon so that the driver (me) wouldn’t be stuck in the shade and risk hypothermia. The problem was that I wasn’t told how the top came down and it took Shirley and I no less than ten minutes of drifting aimlessly to figure it out and once we were able to get it down it wasn’t readily apparent how to fold it up and contain it. So, we took the anchor rope and jimmy rigged it so that it was put away somewhat satisfactorily (I got this).

It didn’t take us long to realize hanging out on Torch Lake was not in the cards. We made our way back through Torch River hoping that Elk Lake was a bit more placid but were forced to take a pit stop at the marina so Shirley could pee. I wanted to take a pit stop at the public boat launch which seemed much more accessible, but she insisted on the marina. The wind was whipping at the marina and the river was narrow. To make matters worse my ski boat was like driving a Ferrari and the Pontoon was like driving a rear wheel drive Buick in a blizzard. My first mistake was not making sure my trim was down, trim isn’t a thing in a ski or wakeboard boat unless you know a lot of chicks. Turns out the trim was basically all the way up and when I came in to the dock a bit too hot I was entirely helpless as Shirley kept yelling at me to hit reverse. Out of panic she stuck her foot out to stop us as we violently collided with the dock. Immediately she cried out in pain as I managed to put the Titanic in reverse so it didn’t hit the iceberg a second time. Admittedly, I didn’t have it, but by some small miracle there were no bystanders to witness an incident that would have led to divorce in most marriages.

The good news is that the rest of the afternoon went splendidly and as we made our way back to the marina. I was a bit apprehensive docking the boat but nothing remarkable occurred and we made our way into port safe and sound. Both kids had fallen asleep and we let them continue to nap as they checked the boat over to determine if they would be taking any of our security deposit. The kids had decided that the lady running the marina was Carol Baskins, and Carol determined that there was a ding in the prop that may require the marina to replace it. In my defense, when we did the walk around before we took the boat the prop was positioned in such a way that I couldn’t see if there was a ding in the prop originally. Instead of threatening extremely long and costly litigation I let her bring in her dock hand “smokey Bill” to take a look at the prop. Roughly ten minutes later he appeared and climbed around the outboard motor like a monkey on a tree inspecting the prop from every possible angle, his pack of Marlboro mediums fell in the water when he bent over a little too far to take one last look at the prop blade. Had there been anymore than 3 smokes left in the pack I’m certain he would have dove in head first after them, that’s the type of guy he was. However, he remained calm and didn’t even seem bothered by the loss of his smokes. I figured putting him through that type of unnecessary aggravation was certain to result in the need for a new prop. However, I was wrong. Win for the Jansmas!

On our way back to the camp ground we discovered the ultimate dichotomy, a farm stand that was also an ice cream stand. I was able to purchase fresh vegetables for dinner that evening as well as mid afternoon dessert for my kids and I. Rarely do I find an ice cream that contains the world’s best candy bar (milky way) but this place had it and it was delicious. It’s rare that I get two wins in one day when I am with my family but it happened. The only thing that could have made it better was some afternoon delight, but that wasn’t happening.

Recently I have noticed that I stink, I always kind of stunk, but now it’s a new odor that is inescapable. Now, could some of this be attributed to the average heat index this summer being 97 degrees, I’d like to think that is the primary reason. Unfortunately, along with your earlobes, testicles, and nose growing as you age (at least for men, I’ve done no research on what happens to the labia as their owner ages) you also stink more.

Old people really do have a chemically-distinct odor. Like other body odors, this “old person smell” is produced when chemicals from the skin glands get broken down into small odorous molecules that waft away into the air. … In 2000, Japanese researchers found that people’s concentration of 2-nonenal increased with age.

My research has led me to the conclusion that there is not a whole lot that can be done to combat the smell either. There are minor lifestyle changes that can be made such as eating a clean diet and not consuming alcohol but it’s a case of the cure being worse than the disease in my mind. I’d rather stink and drink than eradicate my old man smell and have to remain sober for the rest of my life. An alternative to changing my lifestyle would be to always have someone stinkier than me around, something that is typically the case when I have to be in the presence of my clients who are incarcerated, but probably not an ideal alternative.

On top of the old man smell I have also noticed my patience for anyone and anything has decreased to a level that I may need to engage in anger management classes. While saggy balls and inordinately large ear lobes are problematic, when you break it down, if that part of the aging process kicks in, it would primarily impact me. However, my patience, or lack there of, has wide ranging implications for everyone I come across. Just recently I was trying to get a pair of bikes into our bike rack and the straps that were suppose to hold them down wouldn’t strap down tight onto the bike rack. As I began to lose my mind Shirley walked by and commented on how I have no patience as she took over and was able to secure the bikes down. In my defense the heat index was similar to what you would find at the center of the Sun so me melting down even quicker than normal was somewhat defensible.

Enough about me though, and my problems, let’s focus on something much more positive, camping. I was skeptical when I decided it was time to actually fulfill one of Shirley’s dreams that didn’t involve her job, but buying a motor home may have actually been the right call. Now, up until last week the only place the motor home had been used for lodging was in our driveway when Shirley and the kids stayed in it a couple times (it was glorious having the entire bed and house to myself) and when she took it to her parent’s marina in Whitehall and her aunt’s house in Fremont. Work has been slower than a Saturday night in Salt Lake City so I decided to book an overnight camping trip near Muskegon. I loaded the kids up last week Wednesday and we hit the road, leaving Shirley behind to work. As I began driving I instantly realized that the mirrors were set up for Shirley meaning I couldn’t see shit. Instead of pulling over and fixing the mirrors, I kept on keeping on and was able to make it to the campground without driving anyone off of the highway because they made the mistake of being in my blind spot (which was a rather large spot).

When we got there I set up camp, which consisted of backing the motor home into the spot and plugging in the electric. In hindsight it was a huge mistake to make camping at Duck Creek RV resort our first true camping experience. First of all, it was $70 for one night, second of all the place was the Taj Mahal of RV parks. It had a full length basketball court, pickle ball, shuffle board, a pool (the hot tub was closed, fucking Whitmer) and a lake with all kinds of self propelled water craft that could be rented. On top of that, they had an 18 hole mini golf course that looked far more challenging than both the east and west course at Craig’s Cruisers. It was fairly obvious every other camping experience was going to be unsatisfactory when held up in the light of the Duck Creek RV resort.

The kids and I initially hit the pool but quickly determined that the lake was the way to go. Eventually we made our way back to the motor home that was conveniently located near the playground, and this wasn’t just any run of the mill campground play area, it was state of the art. The kids headed over to the playground as I stayed back and had a beer. Suddenly I realized why camping was so great, there were kids every where and you’d have to be a sociopath not to be able to make friends in this environment. Sure enough, Aiden eventually came back with a friend who had they needed to recast the young version of Forest Gump for a sequel, would have landed the role no problem. Fortunately, even Aiden realized the kid would be a parasite if he kept hanging with him and was eventually able to rid himself of the weirdo.

Shirley joined us after dinner and immediately chastised me for the unorganized nature of the motor home which I found ironic since she is the primary reason for the disorganized nature of our entire lives. Fortunately she didn’t use the phrase “we” when referring to the need to organize the camper. This is common for her to do when something needs to be done and I’m the one who she thinks should do it. She ended up hooking up the water, the sewer (with my help) and getting everything put away in the RV. The remainder of the night was uneventful and the next morning I texted my buddy about playing tennis. Yes, the guy I have been playing tennis with all summer was camping with his family the same campground, coincidence? Probably not and we made our way to the local courts where I was defeated 6-4, 7-5, 7-5, it’s been a common theme all summer where I miss a few key plays during the match while completely out playing him only to drop set after set because I am not mentally strong enough to prevail.

After hitting the lake again opportunity knocked for a shot at redemption. My tennis nemesis was at the shuffleboard courts with his son Harrison who had spent the previous week dedicating himself to the art of shuffle board at the CRC conference grounds (it’s the Christian Reformed campground, if I ever want to relive the trauma of my childhood I will camp there) averaging roughly 6 hours a day playing shuffleboard. Aiden was with me as we approached and asked if he could play. My buddies step mom gave Aiden her cue and he made a number of feeble attempts at getting the puck to the other side with his cue. Meanwhile, Harrison was dialed in and scoring points like James Harden in a meaningless regular season game. It was fairly obvious that Aiden would be no match for Harrison, especially after telling him no less than nine times that the cue had to be directly up against the puck for him to have any chance of landing a cue in the scoring zone. After every time I implored him to do it the right way he would wind up with the cue a foot behind the puck and fail miserably. “Where is Parker? he’s my only shot at beating this Harrison kid, go get your brother!”

To be honest I think Parker just showed up, but I immediately threw him into the fire and ignored Aiden’s requests to continue playing. It took Parker a couple of Shuffles (not sure what you call it when you propel the puck with your cue) to get the hang of it but his hand eye coordination is top notch just like his old man’s. It was neck and neck the entire way and as I cheered Parker on while giving him a few pointers he said “I don’t really care if I win” that was even more deflating to hear than if they had told me he liked Shirley better than me, and made me question his lineage. (I picked up one of those home DNA kits, just waiting on the test results to come back) Unfortunately, Harrison was the Michael Jordan of shuffleboard and I could easily see him punching whomever out if they stood in the way of him getting to 75 first (that’s what you play to in shuffleboard).

My last hope was beating my buddy in shuffleboard. I had toyed with the thought of playing Harrison but losing to him would have been much more than my already fragile ego could take. I got out to a pretty substantial lead only to see it disappear faster than the free samples at Costco. I was ahead 68-65 only to see my buddy nail two shuffles of 8 to my one shuffle of 7 with me having the last shuffle. In my mind I needed to knock off one of his 8’s but in hindsight all I really needed to do was score a 7 or better which would have been the easier thing to do. I failed miserably in my attempt to knock his puck off and lost a heartbreaker. Initially, when my buddy told me his kid loved shuffleboard I poo pooed it while claiming shuffleboard is lame. Turns out anything that has a competitive aspect to it will easily peak my interest. The good news is now I have something to look forward to when I retire, actually a number of things besides saggy balls including but not limited to shuffleboard, pickle ball, and early bird specials.

The next stop on the Jansma camping tour was three ponds camp ground in Allegan and Shirley was responsible for getting the motor home through this leg of the journey so I could head back to play 18 much needed holes of golf. As I skated out of the RV park part of me wished I had opted for doubles pickle ball, Parker and I would have been a formidable duo.

As indicated in my previous blog Aiden and Parker were given the ultimate punishment a parent can give these days for almost turning our house into the towering inferno, 30 days of no devices. Now, at first I though Shirley was nuts, by punishing the kids she was punishing us in a round about way. However, after they grew accustom to the idea of no devices, it was like we had two brand new kids. Granted, in the early days of their device free life they would still try to snatch our phones every once in a while, like recovering crack addicts teetering on the edge of relapse, but as time wore on they didn’t even try to swipe our phones. I remember one morning when I couldn’t find my phone and was certain one of the kids had taken it I stormed into the TV room (we still let them watch TV, we aren’t Communist China at the Jansma household) ready to start yelling at them only to find them contently watching TV. As day thirty was approaching our kids become as giddy as if Christmas was right around the corner. The frequency of them mentioning the return of their devices began to steadily increase and there was no way (even though we are the parents and we frequently have changed our minds about things in the past) we could not give them their devices back. Sadly, while we had hoped the thirty day respite from devices and the correlating change in behavior would stick, it didn’t, they are razor focused on one thing, like I am about sex, they are consumed by their devices, rarely does a thought not involving devices come into their heads. (unfortunately for Shirley, it’s gotten worse now that there are no sports, I use to think about sex 98% of the time now it’s 99.9%).

On Tuesday, the day they were reunited with their devices Parker had a birthday party in the afternoon so it was just Aiden and I when I got home. I asked him if he wanted to go to Craig’s Crusiers and he came up and hugged me while saying yes and proclaimed I was the best dad ever! Wow, the devices had already made my Aiden completely delusional, part of me hoped they would almost start the house on fire again so we would have an excuse to take them away and keep them from completely losing their minds. Regardless of Aidens over estimation of me as a parent, Craig’s Cruisers felt like a good idea at the time, but it’s one of those things, like going to a Chinese Buffet, that seems like a good idea when you think of it but after you enter and pay you realize you have made a huge mistake. I am assuming that Craig’s Cruisers, along with pretty much every business, has had to make concessions on their prices to get people to come back through their doors and it was only $20 per wristband for two hours of fun. The bumper boats were first and Aiden kept squirting me with the water cannon mounted on his boat. Go Karts were next and Aiden and I both had our own kart.

My kart sputtered out of the gate and I was concerned that every kart on the course would go blowing by me until I realized that all of them went roughly the same speed, not able to top 8 mph, and that this was about the driver’s skill level not how fast you could go. The first couple laps Aiden was no where to be found but I eventually lapped him and when I approached him he ran into me out of panic when I started yelling his name and driving towards him. Staying near him for the final laps was not an option due to the fact that he drives a go kart like a 90 year old women on the way to church. Besides, there was a 13 year old girl who thought she could pass me so it was Game On! I thwarted her every move the entire way, she had one last chance in the home stretch to get past me but I was like Dale Earnhardt at Daytona (not the one where he died, but one of the many he won) and fended her off and came into the garage victorious.

As we walked away from the track Aiden asked me if we could leave, we had been there for roughly 13 minutes, his exuberance for Craig’s Cruisers had taken a serious hit. I asked him why he wanted to leave and he indicated that he wasn’t any good at driving go karts. He explained to me that he couldn’t reach the brake very well to which I responded “whoa, whoa, whoa, you don’t use the brake when you are in a Kart, it’s throttle all the way, you have to regulate your speed with the throttle.” He still wasn’t that interested in sticking around but he was cool with hitting the links so we headed over to the mini golf course. I had heard that the East course has an Augusta feel to it and the West Course is more like Pebble Beach. We decided to hit the east course due to the fact that there was a back up on the first tee on the West Course.

My expectations were low for Aiden and he brought them down even further, I’ve seen people kick a golf ball with more accuracy than he had with an actual putter which was disappointing because I was having the round of my life (ended up shooting 3 under, possibly a course record, the girl in the clubhouse seemed clueless when I asked her if my score entitled me to have my name put on some type of plaque or something) and Aiden’s inability to golf hampered his ability to appreciate what a stick his old man is on the astroturf. Eventually I decided that I needed to incentivize him to keep him focused and told him that if he managed to muster a hole in one we could get shakes from Chick-fil-A. While the promise of an Oreo shake for an ace on the remaining holes had him trying harder, the results weren’t any better. When we finished 18 I told him we could leave after we hit the track one more time. I lapped him again and as we headed to the parking lot I was conflicted, we still had at least an hour left on our wrist bands, being Dutch, when you have unlimited use of something you use that something no matter how miserable of an experience it is. That being said, and even though I was leaving an hour of unlimited “fun” on the table, what was important was that Aiden and I had had fun together making the trip and the money spent almost worth it, besides I was really staring to crave an Oreo shake.

Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later, eventually my work life was going to interfere with my fun life and it was a difficult dose of reality I had to endure this morning.  Yesterday I received a text from a client wondering if I was going to be in Grand Haven at 10 in the morning today.  I haven’t had to be anywhere but on my phone doing zoom calls  when it comes to court appearances since the Rona sent everyone into an overblown panic back in March.  (ok I have had a couple in person appearances but 95% of the have been via zoom).  The odd thing is that most people dress up in a coat and tie as if we are attending real court.  I”m not saying don’t look good, or don’t wear a suit, I”m saying there is always a phone in option, and that’s the option I take.  First of all, I have no need to see the people I am dealing with and second of all, if they can’t see me then what does it matter what I am wearing?  Well, unfortunately, Grand Haven, as much as I had hoped it would be, wasn’t a zoom sentencing meaning I had to actually drive there as well as wear a suit.

The in person appearance was problematic for a couple of reasons, the first being I had a Zoom sentencing in Allegan at 8:30 and one in 63rd District court via zoom at the same time.  What made it even worse is my client from 63rd called at 8 asking if I was going to be at court with him, he overlooked the explicit directions attached to his notice about how Zoom works.  I told him to drive to my office and we could do the call together.  Even in a suit I still prefer the phone vs video, the video is way to glitchy for my liking.  I logged on to the zoom call at 8:25 and was put in the waiting room until the judges clerk took me out to verify who I was and then put me back in for….roughly an hour.  At 9 I made the executive decision to have my client get on his own zoom call and headed to Grand Haven.  The good  news is Allegan gave me a slot of 9:30 to 9:40 for my sentencing so I still had a window to get that out of the way if my 63rd sentencing was completed in the next half hour.  I’m quite certain if there is hold music in hell that it is the hold music reserved for Zoom calls.  The music cuts out every 15 seconds making you think you are being taken out of the waiting room only for it to pipe back up leading to what seems like never ending disappointment.

Well, I was late for my Zoom sentencing in Allegan, which seems worse than being late in person, but since I was on the phone I couldn’t fully determine how angry the judge was about it.  Besides, I won’t get into the details, but Allegan jail is on lock down and I was unable to see my client and discuss his sentencing with him so the sentencing was adjourned out two weeks, not sure what will change between now and then with the Allegan County Jail but Tanger and the Casino are now open so it won’t be a wasted trip when I try to visit him and get turned away.  I made it to Grand Haven in time and when my client walked through the metal detector they offered her a mask, which she took and wore into the courtroom.  I on the other hand declined the offer of a mask and went into the courtroom unprotected from a virus that has a .02 % infection rate in Ottawa County.  The judge immediately told me I had to stand six feet away from him, which I was because I was at the podium and he was on the bench, but he wanted me six feet to the side of him instead of six feet in front of him.

On my way back to Grand Rapids I realized that under normal circumstances I would never been able to pull off 3 court appearances in three different counties in that time span, thank the lord for the over reaction to the virus, it has blessed us in so many ways.  In my mind I had put in the equivalent of a full day, driving to 63rd then to Allegan and then to Ottawa County so after getting a few things done at the office I headed out to the river to ski.  When I got off the river Shirley had texted me to find out if I was skiing or golfing, she has the find my friends app on her phone and can tell where I am at all times, but she typically is too busy to care.  Damn you find my friends!  The sad thing is I have no idea how to disable the app.  My only option to avoid detection is to leave my phone at my office or one of the local courts while I engage in my various hobbies and activities.

My next destination was Cornerstone college for hoops, we had been playing in Byron Center but Cornerstone had the ideal set up with glass backboards and a full college sized court.  However, on my way there my buddy called and informed me there were 15 black guys already playing, we only had one black guy joining us so we got next probably wasn’t going to work out in our favor.  That morning I decided to swing into cascade township park to see if the rims had been put back up just so I had a back up if Cornerstone didn’t pan out, sure enough they were back up, a fact that would change life as the Jansmas would know it moving forward.

Midway through the third game Shirley showed up with the kids and dumped them off (damn you again find my friends!) so she could go back to work from home without the guilt of them being on their devices.  The text about skiing or golfing was to try and get me to come home to watch the kids since the girl who watches them leaves at 3.  However, I was not phased by this and had my mind set on hoops even if it meant two hours of screen time for my kids.  Besides, I had spent roughly two hours with them over the weekend and felt entitled to a much needed a break.

Shirley ended up heading back home to work and once hoops was done I headed to Starbucks with the kids.  I had a text from Shirley that read “Come home right away…don’t buy those kids anything.  They are in huge trouble (I would have put huge in all caps if I was writing the text, but she didn’t) I came home to a disaster.  ( I would have used an exclamation point, she didn’t).  This struck me as odd, Shirley rarely puts any type of restrictions on what I can or can’t purchase for the kids and the term disaster was a bit ambiguous.  I immediately asked the kids what they had done and Aiden said he dropped a stick of butter out of the fridge, no way this is what she was alluding to, she wouldn’t even notice a displaced stick of butter if it bit her in the toe since she doesn’t even see us half the time as she “works from home” when we are in plain sight.  I decided to call Shirley to find out what the deal was and it was much worse than I could have even imagined.  The house had been set on fire, yes that’s right our house had been on fire.  When I got off the phone I started grilling the kids, I wasn’t fucking around anymore now it was serious there being property damage and all.  Aiden immediately started crying, that’s his go to now when I start yelling  at him, which only makes me yell more. Parker indicated that he had been playing with matches but that was in the morning and they don’t remember what happened before they left for the park (roughly an hour prior to their interrogation).

Flashback to Sunday.  I had a project going that in my mind was only going to take a couple hours but wound up taking most of the day.  I bought a sprayer and sprayed our new doors both exterior and interior paints.  By the time I was done ( I also had to make dinner) Shirley was out with the kids teaching them how to use matches.  This was a WTF moment for me, but I rarely come off the top rope when it comes to parenting, especially when it comes to Shirley’s parenting, so I kept my mouth shut.  When we were kids we had no choice, matches were everywhere and it didn’t take much to figure out how to use them.  However, as matches were as available then as porn is today, the opposite is true now.  No one uses matches, Aim n flames are where it is at but for some reason Shirley decided to bust out the matches and teach him how arson was done back in our day.  Maybe she thought they would some day be forever in her debt when they wound up stranded on an island with nothing but a pack of waterproof matches.  Regardless, this tutorial coupled with the fact that they were put in our motorhome (we just bought a motor home) where they were easily accessible to Parker led to what could have easily been a catastrophe as well as us spending the summer living in our new motor home.

We made it home from Starbucks and began to flush out what actually had transpired.  Aiden had very little to do with the actual arson, possibly nothing but here is how it unfolded.  When Shirely got home the house was on fire and she rushed to put it out with the garden hose.  Our neighbor works for a fire protection company and came down to assess the damage.  He indicated that 3 to 4 more minutes and our house would have been in flames.  It turns out Parker was playing with matches and threw one into the wood chips right before they left for the park.  Shirley asked Parker where is the only place that it is safe to play with matches.  No where would have been my answer for a 7 year old, but he responded by the firepit, which is what she actually told him in her tutorial on Sunday.  Again, WTF?  But my amount of guilt from my many hobbies and minimal amount of work combined with the fact that I deal with people who regularly do much more egregious things than teach their 7 and 9 year old how to play with matches left me shrugging my shoulders and heading to the store to buy a new 50 foot extension cord so that we could plug our motorhome back into the house (the one I previously bought was a casualty of the match tutorial).