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Snow Day – Follow Up
My Southern California boys had only really experienced snow once in their lives and, being so young, none of them remember it much at all. So, this past weekend we decided to make their winter wishes come true and take them to Lake Arrowhead so they could play around in the snow.
We had the idea to see if the UCLA Conference Center grounds would be available for our lodging. This is a beautiful piece of property about 15 minutes past the Lake Arrowhead Village and a place we call home every summer for a week. For ten weeks every summer, the Conference Center is taken over by Bruin Woods which is the UCLA Family Camp. If you have any connection to UCLA and have yet to experience Bruin Woods, you really owe it to yourself to go. During the days, kids are in camp led by UCLA students while their parents are out fishing, water skiing, listening to lectures, taking classes, doing arts/crafts or just relaxing by the pool. At night there are shows put on by the counselors, organized games, movies, campouts… all of these activities anchored by three truly delicious, chef-prepared meals a day. We really had no idea that during the off-season, the Conference Center was used for other groups who needed a place to meet and sleep. Most of the cabins (or condolets as they are called) were taken over by a visiting group from California Institute of Technology. There was also a group of teachers meeting. The place is available to anyone who has an educational purpose for being there. But, luckily, they set aside a few cabins for friends/family of the University (aka alumni) which is how we lucked out.
So, there we were, five months shy of the week we normally are guests there, and our boys couldn’t have been happier to see their favorite summertime destination spot covered in gorgeous, idyllic, powdery snow. They immediately wanted to run to all of their favorite campground spots and see how different everything looked with snow on the ground. The baseball field, the ‘Zen Deck’, Frontier Village, even the normally warm patio tables- all covered in a layer of ice or snow. One similarity between our summer and winter experiences: the lodge always has a kid-friendly supply of hot chocolate but this week, the boys were excited to discover, the hot chocolate urn didn’t disappear immediately following breakfast. It stayed out all day long so after a few cold tumbles and snow ball fights, they would help themselves to a tall hot one and warm up their insides fireside.
We have a rather strict no-electronics rule at Bruin Woods and the same applied to our off-season jaunt, too. Surrounded by so much natural beauty, the last thing my wife or I want to see is our kids hunched over a tiny screen playing whatever it is they’re playing. So, this weekend provided some nice forced family together time- perfect for playing cards and Monopoly- even a quick toss of the football, trying hard not to slip in the snow beneath our feet.
So, hopefully there will be more weekends like this one in our future. It’s truly a blessing to live such a short drive’s distance from an actual weather condition and an even greater pleasure to return home, shake off the snow from our mittens, stow the big jackets and jump in the Jacuzzi with the sun bright and shining overhead. And I bet when we are there this summer, we will remember how different it all looked just a few short months ago.
Hitting the Slopes Tomorrow
One of the reasons why the Southern California real estate is perpetually strong is due to our superior weather conditions. I read that January in particular is a popular month to move to our fair city thanks to the glorious sunshine that always seems to be on full display during the Tournament of Roses Parade held on January 1. With the rest of the country shoveling snow or fending off freeze, who wouldn’t want to move to Los Angeles with that kind of free advertising?
But the downside to living in a city with ideal weather is: your children start to resent it a bit and ask to experience what other children in other parts of the country seem to enjoy: snow. My youngest actually thought snow was just a myth and didn’t really exist. If it were up to my wife, she probably would’ve let him continue to believe that was the case just to avoid leaving the sunshine even for a brief period of time. A snow bunny, she is not! So, clearly it would have to be up to me to prove to my boys that yes, snow was a real, true thing that didn’t just exist on TV.
I am a native Californian and was raised skiing the slopes of Mammoth and Big Bear. How lucky are we to experience both sunshine and snow in the same day? And to be able to drive just a short distance to get there? Skiing is more about advanced preparation, though. Since we haven’t done it with our boys yet, we felt it would be a little bit easier to try sledding instead. There’s so much less equipment to deal with- and once you start with a ski trip, you’ve also got to figure on ski school, lift tickets, renting all the clothes and boots and, of course, skis. Since my wife already made it clear that if skiing was on the agenda, she’s be waving to me from an armchair by the fireplace of a cozy lodge, firmly clutching her mug of hot cocoa- I decided that prepping three kids (and myself) solo for the slopes was taking on an advanced level of parenting I didn’t have the energy for.
Sledding seemed to be a good compromise that my wife could be on board with. So, tomorrow we will set off to find some patches of snow, maybe with a safe, tree-less slope, and give our three California boys the thrill of a (winter) lifetime. If only to prove that yes, snow is a real thing.
Here’s hoping this is the beginning of a fun, new tradition without permanent repercussions of the boys wanting to move somewhere cold year-round. I’m sticking to the old adage and hoping they are, too: it’s nice to visit but we wouldn’t want to live there.
Super Lotto – Did You Buy Your Ticket Yet??!
Did you buy your ticket yet??! It feels like the one and a half billion-dollar carrot dangling in front of Californian’s faces has taken the state over like the gold rush has returned. People I know whom normally scoff at Lottos begrudgingly bought a ticket or two or twenty.
Logically, everyone knows the chances to win anything are miniscule. Less than miniscule! What’s a sliver of a percentage less than infinitesimal? Well, chop that number into 1/100000 and that’s about as close as any of us will come to getting a piece of this gargantuan money prize. I will admit that last night, my family and I were bit by the bug and decided to buy a couple of tickets. All during dinner, a time when normally there is a tear or two or some bickering between my sons, there was nothing but absolute, serious discussion paid to what we would do if we were to win the money. Because we are the sorts of generous parents who offered to toss a few thousand dollars to each of the kids if we were to take home the big jackpot, the boys had some very specific plans as to what to do with their share of the prize.
My six year old was the first to offer what he would spend his cash on: a solid gold PlayStation 4. Interesting priority but very much in line with what his ultimate fantasy would be. My eleven year old decided that the first thing he would buy would be the insanely expensive Lego sets that are thousands of dollars and no longer in popular circulation. Then, but only after the Legos were squared away, he would buy the Dodgers. He loves those Dodgers and if laying down a few hundred million for the chance to play catch with Clayton Kershawn whenever he wanted to, than that would be his prerogative. Our middle son, age 9, really wanted to buy the fanciest, funkiest electronic keyboard money could buy. The kind that had a lot of choices in picking different types of instruments to play the same tune. Maybe with a microphone attached so he could sing along should the mood strike. It would be his dream come true. My wife didn’t hesitate when it came to deciding what she would do with the money: a million to each of the boys’ schools and a handful of other charities we hold near and dear. After that was taken care of, then from the moment our winning number was called, no more flying coach. It would be first class air travel and presidential suites in every hotel we stayed in from now on.
When the discussion turned to what I would do with my share of the money, my first thought was: would I quit working? I thought about it for a brief moment and honest to goodness, my answer was sincere. I would not quit being a residential real estate broker. My love for the field is so pure that even with a billion and a half dollars added to my bank account, I would continue to bring people and homes together. My only concession to the statement was that I would concede to turn my phone off in the evening so I could have a few hours off every night to unwind and enjoy life, uninterrupted.
An hour from now, those Super Lotto numbers will be called. Good luck to the millions of you who waited in line at the local 7-11’s to buy a ticket or twenty. If you drive by our house tomorrow and are blinded by the golden PlayStation 4, deafened by the new keyboard playing, or catch Clayton in the front yard tossing a ball with our eldest, you’ll know he had a pretty freaking terrific Wednesday night!
Kindergarten, Germany Style
Residing in Cheviot Hills means we are lucky to live within the district of two superior elementary schools: Overland and Castle Heights. Parts of Beverlywood are in the district of Canfield Elementary, another fine learning institution. Each of these schools offers small class sizes, incredible teachers and administrators, strong diversity and an incomparable curriculum. And they also provide another strong example of how schools (and parents for that matter!) in America differ from those in Germany.
An article ran in The Wall Street Journal recently illustrating a rather unique cultural tradition in many German kindergartens: overnight camping excursions for children aged 3-6 to learn survival skills. Parents are not allowed to attend and communication with campers and teacher chaperones is severely frowned upon. Children barely out of diapers are brought out to woodsy campgrounds or Tom Sawyeresque islands and expected to learn how to get themselves dressed, prepare meals and put themselves to bed, all without the helicoptering help of mom and dad. In some instances, these children are given knives to carve wood into skewers in order to roast their own sausages and all of the young campers are encouraged to be independent and play creatively in the woods, often out of the watchful eyesight of their teachers. Another aspect of the trip is to learn how to take care of one another. If one baby camper is homesick, it’s up to his friends to help assuage fears and provide comfort when necessary.
These trips called, ‘Kitafahrten,’ promote a concept that is as old as kindergarten itself. They date back as far as Friedrich Frobel, the 19th century German educator who created Kindergarten in the first place. He was a strong proponent of children playing in nature and learning from their experiences, an idea that is put into practice during these weekend trips. He also believed that children are capable of much more than parents give them credit for. He felt that kids will rise to challenges and parents often hinder their natural inclination to soar independently.
Maybe Mr. Frobel has a point. There is certainly a lot of fear and concern in raising 21st century children, especially on the Westside of Los Angeles. We hesitate even letting our boys walk the dog around the block let alone leave them in the forest for three days with minimal supervision. Maybe we need to let go a little and allow them the survival skills to realize that, even at very young ages, they have the power to survive.
Now that my youngest son is 6, it’s hard to say if I would’ve let him participate in this German cultural tradition, had Castle Heights offered it. I think my fear for his safety would’ve overridden the possible good that could’ve come out of it. I’m definitely all for survival skills, but learning them at 3? Something tells me, in this day and age, it’s OK to wait a few years before turning them loose in the wilderness with fingers crossed, hoping they survive. But, on the other hand, I definitely want to foster independence and strength in our boys, and maybe starting early is the right way to go? But one thing is for certain: if this is how Germans usher in kindergarten, I’m not sure I want to know how they tackle middle school.
Thank You, David Bowie
Once in a while, along comes a celebrity or really, a legend- so monumental and seemingly immortal that when you hear of his/her passing, all you can do is stare at the news, jar dropped in shock. This happened to me this morning when I learned about the death of David Bowie. When I read that he had died, first I thought it must’ve been a mistake or misprint in my newsfeed. But that quickly led to feelings of absolute shock and utter sadness. Why is that? I never met him personally- he was no more a friend to me than any other superstar in the galaxy. But there was something about him that really resonated with me and with so many others in my generation. His music, of course, was particularly phenomenal. He was a brilliant musician, songwriter and vocalist. I listened to his music growing up and today, all day long, I couldn’t get his songs out of my head. And his songs were they so, so good. His lyrics opened the door for the most poetic and creative imagery possible in popular music. His sentiments were more than just a voice for a generation- it was as if his words spoke to each one of us individually. Whether he was sharing a microphone with Bing Crosby, Mick Jagger, Freddy Mercury or singing all by himself, his artistry managed to span all genres, sexes, demographics and musical persuasions. He also seemed like a genuinely good guy.
He not only was ahead of his time, but he also effortlessly changed with the times so he always stayed relevant. Especially during a time in which musical superstars didn’t enjoy too long of a cultural shelf life, David Bowie was always there yet, remarkably never stale and always part of the conversation. He could be anyone he wanted to be and that always seemed to totally OK because when you’re as talented an artist as he was, who’s going to stop him? What publicity machine is going to prevent David Bowie from being or doing anything he happened to be inspired to do at any given moment in time? Who’s going to anchor down and bottle up that kind of creativity? So many rock stars today undoubtedly can point to David Bowie as their inspiration and the one who made it possible for them to succeed. All the outlandish outfits, behavior, performances and theatricality that seem almost quaint and somewhat commonplace today, likely has roots in the early days of David Bowie. He was the first.
So, today is a sad day. We mourn a man most of us have never met yet we celebrate what a legacy of incredible music and bravery he left behind. Thank you, David Bowie. Your genius will always live on.
There’s a starman waiting in the sky
He’d like to come and meet us
But he thinks he’d blow our minds
There’s a starman waiting in the sky
He’s told us not to blow it
’Cause he knows it’s all worthwhile
He told me
Let the children lose it
Let the children use it
Let all the children boogie