Then the softball season came around...part 2

In last week's post, I talked about how I never set out to be a coach this year. 

Earlier, both my daughters expressed interest in playing softball.  That surprised me because neither girl had played before.  I signed both up and thought nothing more about the game other than putting in some time with them on fielding and catching. 

By stroke of luck, both girls had to report to the same field for first day of practice.  My younger daughter had her practice first and I saw her team had a coach and two assistant coaches.  They broke the team up into sections and worked on drills separately, rotating sections out to other drills.  Practice ended an hour later.

Right after that, my other daughter had her practice with her new team and coach.  Other than noting her coach looked pregnant, I settled in to watch and wait for my wife to get here from work and pick up our younger daughter.  It dawned on me that the coach was handling this practice by herself and it was taking FOREVER to go through a drill before moving onto another.

After an hour, the coach had just finished the pitching drill and that was the first drill.  I knew right away help was much needed and that's when my wife showed up.  I told her about that and she said, "Why don't you offer her your help?  You've coached before."  I nodded at that and said, "Come with me then."  We walked over to the coach and with my wife interpreting for me, I volunteered to be an assistant coach.  3 others jumped in to volunteer as well. 

What I remembered the most about that moment was all the girls coming over to look at me when I offered help.  I got strange looks, curious looks, bewildered looks, and so forth.  However, my daughter was super-thrilled to have me on board as an assistant coach.  My wife overheard her tell her teammates "My dad is a very good coach and you will learn a lot from him." 

The coach texted me two days later to make sure I would be there for practice.  I showed up and she didn't know what to do with me.  I'm used to that and I had a feeling that would happen, which was why I had an interpreter.  I discussed with the coach on how to communicate with me in an effective manner and she was very attentive.  I promised her I would have an interpreter at every practice because I knew not everyone would understand me.

During practice that day, I noticed some girls didn't know how to throw properly, catch properly, and/or field properly.  What I meant by that is how you use your feet while throwing, having the glove in proper alignment when catching, and setting yourself in front of the ball to field it cleanly.

The coach was amazed by how I picked up on the minutae and I told her, "It's easy to overlook things when it's second nature to you and to me.  Our job to to make sure they all know how to do things correctly to minimize injuries."  That impressed her even more and she took to me right away.  We became comfortable with each other and she was surprised by my approach to the game.

She liked how calm and attentive I was with everyone and she became my fan when I made a player run the length of the outfield for trying to catch a ball in a dangerous way.  That is, catching a ball palm up with the back of the hand horizontal to the ground while the ball is coming in high instead of having the glove pointing up to the sky.  That's a sure-fire way to have a ball hit you in the face.  She had never been able to break the girls of that dangerous habit last year and my way did the job much faster.  I even did it to my own daughter, making her run the length several times.

When a parent tried to hassle her over something trivial, I reminded her that she is "HBIC" and she should utilize her assistant coach to make sure everything would be done correctly.  Her eyes widened at that and and she said, "If that's what I think you said, you're right.  I want you to handle the girls while I go and make it clear who is in charge here."

To clarify what HBIC is, it's "Head Boss (or a bad word) In Charge".  The letter B is beautifully interchangeable for either sex.  ;) 

Not long after the season started, she texted me to let me know she wasn't handling her pregnancy well and had to be on bed rest.  She felt that since I was the only assistant coach to show up at every practice AND game along with showing patience and great attention to details, I would be ideal to replace her.  I was honored by her faith in me to lead the team.

When a parent found out that I was promoted to head coach, she volunteered herself and her husband for assistant coaches.  That instantly allayed any fear any parent might've had with the team having a deaf coach.  We got along easily without the aid of interpreters and the husband turned out to be a fabulous coach - I would say something small like "One out" and he would follow all the way through by saying to the runners "One out, that means what? That's right, stay and wait unless there's a ground ball then you run!"

I made sure to let every player play in whatever position they wanted to and I followed the rule of letting each player play on the field for at least 2 innings per game (not every coach followed that).  I must confess that I did have an ulterior motive for letting everyone play in all positions - this allowed me to develop depth in each position.  This turned out to be the right thing because two players got suspended for the year due to off-field infractions and two players dropped out.

We started the season with 13 players and finished with 9 (one never showed up in the final game) with the record of 2-10 (there were only 4 teams in the league, 4 game series each).  We lost 2 games by 2 runs or less, which is awesome considering the fact the majority of the players were playing for the first time.  The girls loved playing and loved playing for me. 

I spoke with the former coach; she wants to come back.  I told the husband and wife that they made great assistant coaches.  I even told the husband that if he decides not to move this year and the league needs another coach, I'd gladly coach against him because I thought he would make a very good coach too.  He was touched by that and liked the idea of coaching against me as well.

I am looking forward to next year.  ;)

Explanation about the dialogue between Marlee Matlin and Lisa Lampanelli

I was asked by a deaf friend about the dialogue between Marlee Maitlin and Lisa Lampanelli during Donald Trump's roast on Comedy Central when Lisa jokingly asked Marlee if she could read Lisa's lips while in cameltoe mode.

Lisa: Ah, look at Marlee sitting up there like she's normal. Ay Marlee, you read lips, right? What's my camel toe saying? (Lisa thrusts her hips at Marlee's direction and bows her legs apart - Marlee plays along, gesturing at Lisa to spread her legs further apart)

My friend didn't understand what a camel's toe has to do with Lisa. I had to explain to her what a camel toe is. Boy, was she blushing big time after I explained to her what a camel toe is.

Interesting how someone, whose first language is not English, could struggle to understand the slang for "camel toe". It's not uncommon for a deaf person to not hear of words that have long since entered an average hearing person's consciousness. Hmm, maybe I should do a series on that...

To up your giggle factor...

ADSL's questions, pt 5

And finally...A Daft Scots Lass asks, "Whats your most challenging part of being a daddy?"

That's an excellent question! This allows me to answer in many layers, such as early days, crawlng/exploring, safety issues, maintaining discipline, sibling rivalry, etc.

The early days - I worried constantly about the girls not breathing anymore. Yeah, I was aware of SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome) and I was afraid that I would not be able to know when they were having problems. I never forgot one night when my younger daughter (about 8 months old) was in bed with us, sandwiched in for her safety. While sleeping, I started to become aware of the rocking motion sensation. I woke up and I freaked out when I saw why...my daughter's face was covered by our bed sheet and she was moving her head back and forth to try to breathe better. She was starting to suffocate and I woke up in time. I didn't sleep again that night.

Crawling/exploring/safety issues - I live in a two-story house, so the bane of my existence was the stairs. I've had near heart-attack moments from not being able to find them, only to discover they were UPSTAIRS. Incredible that they never had an accident on the stairs! Once they learned how to operate the doors, I had to post warning signs on the doors to remind the visitors to close and lock the doors behind them. I also worried that they inherited my intense nature of curiousity. Yes, I child-proofed the house, but... You know the saying, "Curiousity killed the cat"? Well, my girls are still alive. ;)

Maintaing discipline - this was made harder once the girls realized they could ask me for permission after being denied by their mother. How was I supposed to know she had said "No" already? I did try asking, "What did your mother say?" and they would lie, of course. Now, we tell each other what the decision was so they can't manipulate us...well, mostly me. ;) As for maintaining discipline, we make sure to be consistent and follow through with our warnings. They know we will warn them just once and second time will result in a time-out.

Sibling rivalry - I coined the term "Little Sibling Syndrome" after seeing a friend's youngest son constantly fight for his portions or rights or turns. I have noticed that he would go into the LSS mode even if he didn't have to fight for it at all. Since I don't want that in my younger daughter, I have repeatedly cautioned my older daughter about LSS. I have warned her that she must share things with her sister or include her in play...and guess what? Because my older daughter has exluded or refused to share with her sister, my younger daughter doesn't like to share out of fear that she will not get back whatever it was. Sighs.

Personality clashes - my older daughter is just like me, right down to the shape and look of the fingernails and how I walk. My younger daughter is just like her mother, willful and stubborn. Drives me CRAZY that I not only have to deal with the stubborn daughter, but the stubborn mother too. However, nothing frustrates me more than my "younger self"...she lets her fears spiral out of control. She's afraid of deep water/drowning and she has jumped into a spring (that is at least 30 feet deep) from a dock 10 feet high when I held her hand and jumped with her...and she has yet to jump from a 3 feet high diving board...at our public pool populated by lifeguards...solo.

Anyone else got questions for me? I would be happy to answer them.

ADSL's questions, pt 4

"Whats your most favourite thing to do on a Sunday afternoon?"

Usually, just relaxing and letting everyone be or watching football when in season. Nothing gets me going more than football. What I mean about letting everyone be, it's my day to let it all go and forget about the world.

Relax. Breathe. Focus on myself. Be re-centered. Feel calmer. Problems can wait.

My family understand and they actually like having a day to themselves as well. If the girls want to play with me, I will play with them. If I hide out in my bedroom and they come in anyway, they're welcome to stay in bed with me as long as they don't complain about what I am watching. :)

However, I went to Sign N Dine yesterday at a Cracker Barrel restaurant. Just as relaxing because I got to chat with friends...and discuss what movies should be seen. I was very pleased to learn that I had converted someone to Coen Brothers' gangster masterpiece, "Miller's Crossing". Arguably, "Miller's Crossing" is the third greatest gangster flick after the first two Godfather movies.

Anyway, I digress. Sunday is the day I recharge and get ready to tackle the week anew. :)

ADSL's questions, pt 3

"Is there such a thing as a singles bar for sign languagers? If so, have you ever been to one and whats it like? Is everyone signing all over the place?"


Cute questions, indeed. :) What we like to do in order to have our own version of a singles' bar is we take over a section of a bar and chat away. The en masse of flying hands can be intimidating to waitresses and bar patrons.

There are three reasons for having our own singles' bar: 1) for deaf people to socialize, 2) for interpreting students (they're called that because they are studying sign language in hopes of becoming an interpreter) to help enhance their signing/comprehension skills, and 3) looking to get lucky.

Yes, I have been to one - that's how my wife and I started dating. ;)

ADSL's questions, pt 2

"Whats the most interesting conversation you have ever evesdropped on? Knowing that you lip read and not everyone being aware of it, have you ever come across and interesting situation that made you surprised or made you laugh? I'm sure you have some interesting stories to tell."

My lipreading skill is at best 50%. Depends greatly on how a person talks. It's more about being there at the right time.

The biggest surprise I had? When I was at a restaurant, I was seated facing a man across a glass partition and he was telling his buddies about his court case. He was facing charges of molesting his kids and he told his buddies he felt confident about beating the charges because he thought his own kids wouldn't testify against him. Imagine the looks of his buddies' faces when he said that...

The saddest? Watching a college student whine to her friends that, after getting a ticket from her parents to fly back home for Christmas, they wouldn't buy her another ticket for her to go see a friend of hers. She said something along the lines of "My parents bought me a ticket, why couldn't they buy me another? I want to see my friend. It's not fair!" Whine, whine, whine.

The funniest? I happened to look at a co-worker's direction just as she looked in my direction to make sure I wasn't "eavesdropping". She was 5 cubicles away (the low type where you can see others from a sitting position). I cocked my eyebrow and she immediately turned red and turned around to hide her embarassment. Other co-workers, who were talking with her, cracked up at her actions when they realized what had happened. What made it so funny? I didn't even catch a single word and one of the co-workers told me later on that the woman was talking about a guy who rocked her world in the bed last night. She was spilling all the juicy details and she THOUGHT that I "listened" in on her whole story. LOL

ADSL's questions, pt 1

A Daft Scots Lass left a comment in one of my posts last week, asking the following questions:

"Whats the most interesting conversation you have ever evesdropped on? Knowing that you lip read and not everyone being aware of it, have you ever come across and interesting situation that made you surprised or made you laugh? I'm sure you have some interesting stories to tell."

"Is there such a thing as a singles bar for sign languagers? If so, have you ever been to one and whats it like? Is everyone signing all over the place?"

"Do you prefer to sign with a fellow deaf person or do you prefer to lip read?"

"Whats your most favourite thing to do on a Sunday afternoon?"

"Whats your most challenging part of being a daddy?"

----------------------

Since ADSL's first two questions contain sub-questions, I'll answer them in "ADSL's questions, pt 2" (and pt 3) later on in the immediate future, I will answer question #3 which is "Do you prefer to sign with a fellow deaf person or do you prefer to lip read?"

Having attended my deaf school's reunion Saturday night, I got to experience both (signing with deaf people and lipreading each other) at once in one sitting. My deaf school emphasized strongly on oral education - signing was forbidden in the classrooms. We had to learn how to lipread the teachers. When we were done with our deaf school, we were ready for the world without ever acquiring any signing skill.

I had not seen some of my classmates for 30 years and it was rather disconcerting to me when I talked with some of them and seeing their eyes go blank when I tried to use sign language to help with the communication. One classmate was barely able to comprehend fingerspelling...and nothing else other than a sign here and there. Two of my classmates started conversing with each other, without any signing - just lipreading and gesturing.

I got bored with them after few minutes and I sought out others who could sign. I know it sounded bad...as if I was being a jerk or selfish. They were talking about NASCAR and driving/racing tactics. I have nothing against that, just not my cup of tea. I simply used that as my excuse to leave.

So it's obvious that I'd rather sign with a fellow deaf person than to lipread. Out of the 21 students in my graduating class, 14 attended the reunion (including me). Maybe half of that are at least competent in sign language communication. 30 years since graduation and only one could communicate with me in sign language fluently.

Poll results

That's the result of a poll I put to the visitors. Interestingly, nobody went for the final option because I considered that to be open-ended and allowed others to express their opinion that wasn't listed. Also, it was interesting to me that so few of you (2) were interested in my experiences as being a deaf person with Story Series/Anything funny (3 each) and Memories (4) close behind.

I will keep varying the nature and topic of my posts (yes, I will still post "Say What?" on a recurring basis). Thank you very much for taking your time to answer my poll...I appreciate that! My curiousity has been sated, for now. ;)

What do you get when you breed a whore with someone who's hyper-attentive?

The answer? An attention whore. ;) Yes, I was inspired to use the word "whore" in a post by Absolutely Narcissism. LOL

What's going on? I wanted to draw your attention to the left side of my blog...it's a poll asking you to voice your opinion on how I should guide my blog. Yes, I am an attention whore. LOL

The reason I am asking is I have noticed how the traffic really varies based on the nature of my posts. I know it's not the direct result from my rounds on other bloggers.

I started this blog at a blogger's urging (thank you, Shelle from BlokThoughts) because she was very curious about me, about how I would handle things, and about what my experiences were like when I was growing up.

I used to blog weekly on MySpace years ago, but it was more of using what was going on around the world and my life as my source of blogging. Got tired of MySpace's limiting design and switched to Facebook. Didn't like the blogging format on Facebook, so I stopped blogging altogether.

Almost three years ago, a friend nervously encouraged me to try out Blogger (she had a naughty blog and was worried about what I'd think of her - I totally supported her and I had no problem with that). I explored many different aspects of myself, but I never touched on my identity as a deaf person or as a deaf parent in Blogger. Then about a year and half later, I found Shelle and the rest is history.

I am ALWAYS interested in your opinions and I have enjoyed getting e-mail from you. Don't stop expressing yourself to me, either publicly or privately.

Being a bachelor definitely helped me prepare for fatherhood

Last Wednesday, my wife went on a trip to the capital city for a rally.

6:04 am - my wife shakes me awake

6:06 - after blinking the last remnants of sleep away, I get up and go to the bathroom.

6:19 - after making my rounds of e-mail, text messages, IMs, & games on my iPhone and getting dressed, I go downstairs and I see that my wife is already gone. I sit with the girls while they watch Disney/Nick.

7:05 - I ask the girls what they want for breakfast. They both said cereal.

7:07 - after washing two bowls and filling them with their cereal, I realize that there's not enough milk to do one bowl. My wife forgot to tell me that we needed milk. I use soymilk on their cereals instead (they like soymilk anyway).

7:07 - they are served and I contemplate washing a bowl so I could have a cereal too. I decide to wait and use one of their bowl. Just didn't feel like washing another. ;)

7:21 - the older daughter is done and the younger chimes in with "I done!" so I ask the older if she wants the remains of her sister's cereal. She nods with wide eyes. I take her bowl and return to the kitchen.

7:22 - after rinsing off the bowl, I fill it with my cereal. I pour in my milk...and it wasn't even close to being adequate. I remember seeing a small carton of chocolate milk in the fridge. Why not? I pour that into the center and the pre-existing milk doesn't turn color at the visible edge.

7:23 - I always start at the edge of my cereal and work my way in...the constant digging into my cereal has made the milk look more brownish-dusty. No real flavor of chocolate yet.

7:24 - I finally reach the chocolate-y part of the cereal and it's quite interesting to experience. Not bad at all. Just more..."fun"...to eat.

7:45 - I brush my teeth and shepherd the girls off to their schools.

8:56 - I'm still tasting the chocolate milk...the cereal taste is long forgotten. Made me smile.

See? Now that I am a family man, drawing on my bachelor days helped me cope with the shortages creatively. ;)

Q & A #18

This is the most interesting question I've ever gotten. So far. Editor's note: I meant to publish this on Monday the 28th. C'est la vie!

Q: What is your favorite cartoon character?

A: Right now? SpongeBob SquarePants. Never can get enough of Patrick's antics. Always amuses me to no end that SpongeBob turns to Patrick for help/answers.

I used to follow Avatar: The Last Airbender until it concluded. Surprisingly deep story arcs in there. Yes, I was disappointed in the live action movie...so many things were thrown out and the movie felt rushed or the dialogue seemed out of place.

Iroh is played by a thin actor? Please, someone get Sammo Hung or a fat actor trained in martial arts. Cliff Curtis as the Fire Lord? He didn't look imposing at all. The actor playing General Zhao didn't look like he had watched the series at all. Not menancing at all or even...clever.

When I was a kid, I loved to wake up and catch my Saturday cartoons. Never got enough of Tom & Jerry or The Looney Tunes. Even Popeye was entertaining. As I went through the 80's, I'd run home to watch Thundercats or Voltron (I got confused when it was suddenly "different" and lost interest, not knowing it was in a different universe).

When I went away to college, I lived for Reboot and Batman. Stopped watching Batman when he sported a triangular torso frame.

Q & A #17

Gillian from A Daft Scots Lass asked me this question in my Q & A #16 post - "Were you born deaf?"

No, I was not born deaf. I was a normal healthy boy with a massive shock of blonde hair on the head.

When I was 13 months old, I contracted a case of spinal meningitis and that put me in a coma for about two weeks. During that time, the high fevers destroyed some of the hair in the inner ears which made me deaf.

When I finally woke up, my mother was the first to notice that I wasn't responding to audio stimuli and the tests confirmed her suspicion. My deafness was measured at around 96 decibels. To give you an idea how loud something has to be for me to hear it, a lawnmower is around 110 decibels.

Funny thing is, I do not hear the lawnmowers...even when I operate one. My theory is my body picks up the vibrations first, negating the need for my ears to "ring" with the noises. The only effective way for my ears to pick anything up is if you do a high pitch scream into my ear or create a loud noise close to my ear - thus eliminating my body as the middleman.

Strange, huh? What's even stranger is how my ears work differently. My right ear picks up "sharp" noises like knocking or a barking dog while my left ear picks up "soft" noises like a ringing phone or a meowing cat. That's with the hearing aids...and no, I don't use the hearing aids anymore.

Why? For a long while, I kept getting confusing mix of sounds on my hearing aids...remember how my ears work independently in the last paragraph? That wasn't discovered until I was in my mid-20's. I had given up on the hearing aids when I was 12. I tried the hearing aids again with this new discovery and a better understanding of how my ears work...and that was still a failure, so I quit for good.

I think it has something to do with the atrophy factor in the part of my brain that processes sound. Just like the legs of a person who became paralyzed - they atrophy after a long period of no activity. Because of that, I am no longer a viable candidate for cochlear implants - I wouldn't be able to process sounds effectively at all. I do not want to be a candidate anyway - I love sports too much and I wouldn't be allowed to play softball or racquetball or football or anything with physical contact.

Formspring Q & A #16

Q: How is your speech? I mean, how well do you speak? I don't know if you do talk or not.

A: A legitimate question. Some deaf people do not speak and they do not for either one of the two reasons - they do not want to speak for whatever reason or they are unable to speak.

I do speak and I have interacted with other hearing people who have had zero experience with deaf people. I've discovered that there are three types of people when it comes to understanding my speech. Those who understand me with no difficulty, those who need to use imagination to understand me, and those who don't understand at all.

With that said, I've been told that my speech is "good" or "pretty good" for those with my level of deafness who do not rely on hearing aids to aid in communication.

Formspring Q & A #15

Q: Ever been pulled over by a cop? If so, how would you handle that? Would you be afraid?

A: Oh yeah, I have been pulled over several times by a cop. Yes, I get nervous every time no matter how many times I get pulled over. Why? I have no idea if the cop wants me out of the car with hands up or put my hands out the window or whatever. The cop could use the loudspeaker and it would not matter one bit. Can't hear!

Story series - my father's dance with a stick

As you have noticed, how I see and observe things as a young deaf boy is radically different. Sometimes with a humorous slant. Fortunately, this is not in the vein of tragedy.

My family and I were living in Texas and I was about 5 years old. We lived at a house where the chain-fence backyard faced the vast wilderness. At least it looked like that to my 5 year-old mind. I may not be entirely wrong about that.

One warm morning, I opened the curtains to look out into the backyard. I was surprised to see my cat sitting behind the sliding door, waiting calmly to come in. What struck me the most was he was holding this weird-looking stick in his mouth and that stick was moving around a bit. I could see the stick had a pattern and I thought it was odd.

I started to open the door to let my cat in so I could examine the stick better and that's when my mom came into the view. She freaked out...FREAKED OUT...and ran in to stop me from opening the door some more and she slammed the door shut before the cat could bring his stick in.

After gesturing firmly to me about not opening the door, my mom called my dad. I could not understand what was going on, but I knew better than to disobey my mother and open the door. I sat on the floor and watched the stick move in several directions while still in my cat's mouth.

After an eternity, my mom made me come into the kitchen and she served me a sandwich. Then my dad came home. He stood at the door and stared at the cat. He went into the garage and I followed him. He put on thick gardener's gloves and took his Air Force work shirt off. He went out into the front yard and circled around to the backyard.

He paused at the gate to make sure the cat wasn't coming to him and he gestured to me to stay. STAY! I nodded at him. He went in. He approached the cat slowly. Moved to the side. I watched him bend down and quickly grab one end of the stick to pull it away from the cat.

Then...he started dancing with the stick. He hopped back. Sideways. Darted in. Jumped back. Threw the stick up in the air. Let the stick land. Darted in. I was fascinated by his dance with the stick.

Then my dad jumped up and threw a rock down on the stick. Suddenly, there was red paint everywhere on the patio. I didn't see any can of paint. Where did the red paint come from? I was confused by that. My dad carefully picked up one half of the "broken stick" and flung it over the far end of the backyard fence. He went back and got the other half and flung it over to join the other.

Took me few years before I realized what the stick was and why my dad danced with it. Do you know what it was? :)

It was a snake. I think it was about 4 feet long, may have been 3...I was young and you know how kids are. My mom has no recollection of what pattern the snake had, let alone know what kind of snake it was, and my dad has been dead for over 10 years now.

Story series - The magical doors

When I was about 4 or 5, my family and I went to my paternal uncle's wedding. Since I could not understand what was going on, I was bored and itching to explore the place. My parents refused to let me leave during the ceremony and that drove me up the wall.

Finally, we got to move to another area. Didn't know this was a reception...but with all the commotion and whatnot, I was able to slip away. While exploring, I came across the magical doors.

I stepped in and marveled at the little round things. I pressed one of them and I was delighted to discover that, after a moment and some shaking of the floor, the doors would reveal to show everyone had disappeared along with the tables and chairs. I pressed another one and I got yet another different scene. I decided to try all the round things. Whenever I pressed one of those, they would change color and then go back to old color and after shaking, the doors would open to give me a different view.

After a while of getting random sights, the doors slid open to reveal my uncle standing there and my uncle shouted "Oh! I found him!" He rushed in and grabbed me and took me out of there. I screamed and hollered. I wanted more of the magical doors! I loved how things kept changing after pressing a button.

Have you guessed what the magical doors were?

The magical doors were...elevator doors. ;)

Needless to say, my parents refused to let go of me throughout the reception and the photos showed that. LOL

Whew, now that the Silent Weekend retreat is over...part 2

Editor's note: please see the post below for part one if you haven't read that yet.

I woke up Saturday morning and it was still dark out. I went to check on my campers and I was tickled, really tickled to see my thieves had taken their mattresses down and placed them in front of the fireplace (the mandated spot for each cabin's mascot) and they slept on the floor to make sure nobody could get to our mascot. I looked over to the fireplace and was shocked to see our mascot wasn't alone.

My boys. My cabin. I felt that familiar surge of pride again.

I got my pager out and I took a picture. The older thief woke up from the flash and when he saw who I was, he grinned at me. I signed, "how many mascots?" and he signed "Four". I signed "Four? Proud you!" The original picture was way off-center so I took another picture. The older thief grinned and held his thumb up as I re-snapped the picture. The younger thief had accidentally covered up the other mascots while he slept - you can barely make out the blue dog peeking out from under. Take a look. LOL

You can see the hen now, just behind our mascot.

At the mandatory 7:45 am staff meeting, I found out that my campers had won the Dutch Auction game. That boosted my sense of pride for my campers, which is no easy feat.

After the meeting, I joined my campers at their table for breakfast and they told me other campers were grumbling about the two thieves being too good at the mascot game. Then the staffer in charge came over and told my campers to give back the mascots. They protested that they had followed the rules cleanly this time. They looked at me and I nodded my head slightly; they promptly turned the mascots over to her.

After she left with the 4 mascots, the younger one signed to me, "Why punish us? We follow rules!" I leaned in and signed, "(it's) Okay, you punish because you too good". They laughed at that and calmed down. I was curious about how they managed to steal 4 mascots after the cabins had learned how sneaky they were and were undoubtedly on high alert.

Me: "How four?"
Older thief: "We went their cabins, take"
Me: "Time?"
Younger thief: "3 morning"
Me: "Wow"

Then it was time for the outdoor games. Friday night had dipped into the 30's and the sun was warming the field up to the high 40's when we streamed out of the mess hall. We headed out to play a regular Silent Weekend game and a favorite of mine, "Clusters". It's a great game that anyone can play.

Here's how it works - someone holds up a number and the participants must "cluster" themselves into a group of people matching the sign. If the sign comes up as "6", each group must have 6 people in it. The "refs" rush in and count the members of each group to ensure accuracy. The others who couldn't find enough members are out of the game. Then everyone breaks apart and mingles...waiting for the next number. The last two remaining in the game are the winners. The last two left in the game that morning were each given a clue to share with their cabins.

After playing a relay game (each camper had to "read" what was fingerspelled and either fingerspell or sign it) and "Guess Who?" (each camper had to guess the identity on a card taped to their backs, using "yes/no" questions), we went back for lunch. My co-counselor informed me that he managed to get another clue. My mental computation told me that any other cabin had, at best, 2 clues while ours had 4.

After lunch, I left to lead a workshop for the beginners. I decided on the "7 W's of ASL" (who, what, where, when, why, which, & how) as the building block approach, supplemented with time reference (yesterday, tomorrow, day, week, month, etc.), emotions, and gender line for sex-specific signs (mother, father, boy, girl, etc.).

When I wrapped the workshop up 1.5 hours later, the participants were able to follow everything so much better and they felt good about that. Some came over and praised me for that. Even the staffers who attended were impressed by my style of teaching. I had gotten everyone involved, even the staffers and counselors. This was officially my first time leading a workshop. Two years ago, a presentator got sick and I took over at the last minute.

Then it was craft time, where the campers were allowed to unwind and get creative. That always recharges the batteries. Then the announcement came - each cabin must use the line "Guess What?" and use the gloves as prop in their skit. What skit, you may be thinking? Every year, each cabin comes up with a skit involving signing, deaf culture, and any relevant aspect of the deaf world and we all compete for the best skit. It's one of the best things about the whole weekend...and the most stressful!

I herded my campers back to our cabin to brainstorm for our skit. I came up with a great ending line...the problem was we had nothing to build around that. We had 1.5 hours to brainstorm before dinner and then 2 hours before we had to go to the rec hall and perform our skit.

Nothing. NOTHING. We went back and forth. We came up with three different ideas, but none of them were interchangeable with each other. Nobody could agree on a single idea. Suddenly, it was time for dinner. I signed to the campers, "Eat fast, come here. 5 minutes eat. Go". After I scarfed down my meal, I biked back and laid myself down to rest my brain.

The co-counselor woke me up few minutes later and after deliberating for 15 minutes, we eliminated one idea. We ultimately decided that the idea of murder was not doable and focused on the idea of a bad dream. This happened 50 minutes BEFORE everyone had to go to the rec hall. Argh!

The younger thief had a talent for performance and was the logical choice as "the kid" in the skit...but...he had never seen the movie we based the skit on and had no idea exactly how the line worked or the impact of the line. He was only 7 at the time the movie came out. After struggling through the explanation for 4th time, someone suggested that I be the kid. Before I could protest, every camper jumped in and unanimously agreed on that.

Sighs. Okay. We rehearsed everything at the speed of light. Well, we had to - only 30 minutes to get it all down before going. I reminded everyone to not worry about flubbing their lines...the audience does not know what we are doing and would not know if someone messed up. We rushed off for the rec hall 5 minutes until 8 pm.

The skit took place on Planet Eyeth (as opposed to EARth, where most of us are deaf and we sign everywhere). At the beginning of the skit, I was ordered to bed by my "parents". As I dreamt, I "woke up" in the dream and I tried to sign to my uncle and aunt but they were wearing gloves so they no longer spoke sign language and were "speaking" like Earthlings.

I panicked and ran to my sisters doing pedicures on each other. They had gloves on and "spoke" to me, not understanding what I was signing to them. I freaked out when I saw my brother speaking on a phone with gloves on. Why is he using a phone if he is deaf?!? I saw my parents and tried to sign frantically to them. They did not understand and thought I was flailing my hands around. I saw they had gloves on. (I ran to my bed to wake up from the dream) As I woke up, I cried for my parents and they rushed in.

Mother signed "What's wrong?" I pulled my blanket up and around my head and I signed "I see...hearing people". (That's when the audience roared with laughter as they realized we had done the deaf version of "The Sixth Sense"). Mother signed "Guess what" and I signed "What?" and she signed "Hearing people not real." I sighed with relief and signed "Whew, bad dream".

Judges traditionally razz each skit. I loved what they said about our skit.

After every skit was performed, we had the option of going to a bonfire or the mess hall or cabins because we all were done for Saturday. I hung out at the bonfire for a while before checking in on the mess hall prior to going to bed.

Around 5 am Sunday, I was awakened with a sudden cramp in my right calf. I got out to stand on my foot to unkink it...and saw something dart across my room. I crept out or my room, looked around, and caught someone trying to steal our mascot. Whew! I checked around the cabin and boom, caught another one lurking in the shadows. He was obviously the back-up. Perfect timing to have a cramp. LOL

At the mandatory staff meeting, the counselors all agreed that my skit was the best and funniest. After discussing the candidates for awards, we joined the campers for breakfast while the judges deliberated everything.

We all went to the rec hall for the last time. The staffers let the campers know that they were once again allowed to use their voices. Then the awards were given out. My cabin won The Devil (the older thief), The Clown (the younger thief), The Biggest Sweetheart, and The Balancing Act.

Sadly, the judges did not think our skit was the best and I was told there was a collective gasp when another cabin won instead. At least we won their minds and hearts. ;)

Whew, now that the Silent Weekend retreat is over...

Some of us met up at a restaurant near the retreat so we all could just hang out for the last time. The retreat each year keeps us so busy that we really don't get to do much together. That's okay - what we gain each year is the new memories and the bonds developed.

The theme this year was murder mystery, done in the style of the board game Clue. Sounds like fun, right? It sure was!

Knowing how massive the locale is, I brought my bike (third year in a row now) and so did another counselor. A third one had his bike on his mind but he forgot and wasn't happy about it. Despite the weekend forecast in the 30's overnight, we used our bikes all over the place. A few campers were very curious about my Trek 7300 bike and asked to use it. Of course, they had to ask me for permission...in sign language. ;)

After getting everything set up and decorated, everyone gathered in the mess hall to kick the weekend off. The staffer in charge explained, through voicing and signing, what the theme was and how it would go down. Each cabin would get a clue to get started on the game and everyone had to work for extra clues to help solve the mystery.

The winning cabin with the most points scored in the Dutch Auction game at the rec hall (after dinner) would get a clue. Admittedly, I had never heard of Dutch Auction and I had to listen to the rules. You had to put things in a bag that you thought would be called out by the emcee and you'd get points for that. Sorta like a reverse scavenger hunt, where you don't KNOW what you'd need in order to win.

Then with an added twist, the staffer said few minutes before she had secretly placed a mascot in each cabin (not related to the theme) and the cabins were charged with protecting their mascots from abduction at all times. This had never happened before. New territory. Hm.

I headed back to my cabin with the co-counselor so we could change into our characters for the night's main event where we would interact with the campers. Right as I was aboout to finish dressing up, the co-counselor left our room to wash up. He rushed back in and excitedly told me to, "come look now".

I followed him into the center of the cabin and I was amazed to discover that two male campers of my cabin had stolen ALL of the other cabins' mascots (see pic below; our mascot is the tan dog). I felt my chest swell up with pride when I realized that I would've liked to have thought of this first. These two campers had illegally abducted the mascots - they were supposed to wait until after the main event. I knew I would get heat for what they did...and I didn't mind that. Not one bit at all.

Faces blacked out to protect the guilty ones ;)

Not seen clearly is the fabric hen, between large blue

dog & pink pig - which will be visible in the next post

The other members came in and saw what had occurred. They loved it...suddenly we had that instant bonding. The younger thief signed to me, "What if mascots on list? We can 8x points!" Irrefutable logic. I signed back, "Me fine, put mascots in my sleeping bag...mine biggest." Let me explain the weird wording when we speak in sign language...we are signing and there is no need to sign each and every word since we mentally "fill in the blanks".

We went to the rec hall and one counselor approached me in an agitated manner, "Mascot gone! Don't know what mascot look like!" and another chimed in with "My mascot gone too!". I feigned my surprise at that. Hehe. When other campers and counselors saw the looted mascots on display, some of them went after me. After some accusations and arguing, I shrugged at them and signed, "Wish I thought that. "

The counselors went to the lead staffer to protest and she signed, "Sorry, game starts now." Ohh, I could feel the heat/glare from the counselors. I stuck to my guns...hey, I was (and still am) proud of those sneaky buggers! LOL

The first item called out was a toothbrush, which every cabin easily produced. The emcee signed, "Toothbrush, one point. RED toothbrush, two points". I knew I'd like the game and I stayed in the background so the campers would be more involved. The emcee was funny and creative with his "calls".

At one point, he signed "10 points, any 'I Love You' sign or symbol" and I watched my campers search frantically in vain for anything that resembled the famous "ILY" icon. As time dwindled down on that item, I suddenly remembered something. I rushed out to the emcee and I showed him my ILY tattoo. He signed, "Real tattoo? Not pen?" and I signed "Yes, real" and I showed him my other tattoo. He was so impressed by that he gave my cabin 20 points. A counselor saw what I did and ran over to show him her tattoo of a cartoonish hand in the "ILY" pose, holding a heart (on the right side of her lower back). He promptly rewarded her 25 points. LOL

Then...the emcee signed "5 points, cabin mascot". I grinned at that call and looked at the thieves. They looked at me with a mischievious look in their eyes. Other cabins protested "loudly" and the emcee signed, "30 seconds left!" Instant stampede to our spot for the looted mascots. Bedlam. Chaos. I saw both thieves were refusing to give up their preferred mascot, feeding the frenzy. I ordered both to give theirs up in order to restore the peace.

Then the game ended and the scores were tallied up secretly to determine the winning cabin to reward another clue. Meanwhile, the counselors were ordered to take their posts at their assigned tables and play games like blackjack (campers had to sign numbers), mirror relay (fingerspell a word back to a counselor), tactile fingerspell (campers had to put their hands inside a box and "feel" a counselor spell a word), etc.

That...was...just...Friday. LOL I'll publish part two (about Saturday and Sunday) tomorrow. :)

Recipes and permanent memories

First of all, I want to address a request made by Anjeny. She asked me for a recipe on the cupcakes that my wife made for our 10th anniversary party. She got them from Allrecipes.com (a very well-versed site).

Cupcakes:
Chocolate fudge cupcakes
Red velvet cupcakes
Vanilla cupcakes - same recipe as red velvet cupcakes, minus the food coloring.

Frostings:
Cream cheese frosting
Peanut butter frosting
Mint buttercup frosting with dark chocolate glaze - mint chocolate frosting, as everyone called it, was really weak at the beginning. I had my wife add more mint to it and we got it just right. As always, taste before serving for best results. ;)

I did have an anniversary present to give to my wife (as did she), but unforseen circumstances prevented that for both of us. Last Friday, I went with my wife to "exchange" the gifts...at a tattoo parlor. LOL She has always wanted to add three more tattooes to her two and I granted her that desire.

She kept thinking I'd back out of getting inked for real. I wasn't really into the idea of getting inked because I always had that "what if" scenarios running through my mind. What if I don't like how it looks? What if I develop an allergic reaction to ink? What if, what if, what if... Ah, forget it - life is short!

For those who know me, the designs of my tattooes reflect me. Sorry if you were expecting flashy or crazy designs. ;)

Here's my first tattoo...

To explain what "that" is...this is the sign for "I love you" in finger sticks. My wife got the mirrored image on her left shoulder because of how we sleep in the bed - my right shoulder touches her left shoulder. Sweet, huh? ;)

Here's the actual sign (not my hand) below.

...and here's my second tattoo.

The letters are Greek, saying "Kappa Phi Theta". Before you jump in to say "You got that wrong, it is supposed to say 'Phi Theta Kappa' which is a honors society for community college students", I belong to a now-defunct fraternity called Kappa Phi Theta. My wife is a member of Phi Theta Kappa. Trust me, I know the difference. ;)

The woman who did the tattoo work was fascinated with me and she kept asking us all kinds of questions. We both answered everything and threw in some random information like how long we have been married, kids, blah blah. Even other artists listened in on us and asked us few things.

As for my inking experience, it hurt a little bit but it was really nothing to me. Felt weird, as if the skin was being pulled instead of the "skipping across" sensation. Had slight burning sensation but I recovered right away and I am not feeling any pain now.

What did you think of my tattooes? Simple, I know...but fits me perfectly. ;)