Anonymous Communist

My brother-in-law Ryan indulged me in a bit of tomfoolery recently at the Old State Capitol.

How is it possible that my special little guy is 4 years old already? I remember when he used to fit in the crook of my arm, like a football.

Other notable birthdays today: Muddy Waters, Maya Angelou, Bart Giamatti, Craig T. Nelson and Tommy Herr.

Hopefully, The Boy doesn’t try to emulate what his sister did to celebrate her birthday.

How is it possible that my beloved firstborn is 7 years old already? I remember when she used to fit in the crook of my arm, like a football.

Other notable birthdays today: Mrs. Shoo, Charlemagne (or Chuck the Great, if you will), Sir Alec Guinness, Serge Gainsbourg and Rodney King.

April 2, 2001, also is notable for being the major-league debut of Albert Pujols. Two stars were born that day.

UPDATE: The Girl marked her birthday at about 3 this morning by coming into my room and barfing on my bed.

Basie oversees the eviction of squatters.

One of the stops on our weekend jaunt to St. Louis was the City Museum, which in the last post I described as “unspeakably awesome.” Words really can’t adequately describe just how much fun the place is. If you go, I do have one piece of advice: Wear sneakers.

The overriding theme of the museum is one of reclamation and reuse. Located in St. Louis’ former garment district, City Museum occupies the old International Shoe Co. factory. It’s basically a huge, multi-story, indoor/outdoor playground. Much of what makes up the museum and its attractions is salvaged from long-vanished buildings and unwanted objects.

The most striking attraction at City Museum is MonstroCity, the most fantastic, incredible, kick-ass jungle gym you will ever see in your life:

None of the photos I took Sunday can do justice to MonstroCity’s size, scale and dynamism. At the upper right corner of the photo is the tail of one of two aircraft fuselages you can climb in. There also is a couple of ball pits (one for little kids and one for “big kids,” which can get kind of rough), an old firetruck, a Gothic-style tower from what I’m guessing was a church and an enormous cupola salvaged from a demolished portion of the old St. Louis State Hospital, all of which are interconnected by a series of slides, staircases, bridges and catwalks.

Some of those catwalks also are perilously high off the ground, maybe 50 feet up or more:

(The Girl, pictured, had no problem zipping down the chute. I, on the other hand, was all too aware of how high up I was and was mostly concentrating on not soiling myself. It didn’t help that with every step down I took, my fat ass shook the entire thing. I’d do it again in a second, though.)

And if the weather’s bad but you still want to get your climb on, you can hit the Enchanted Caves. Built deep in the building’s belly around the shoe factory’s spiral conveyor, the caves are a playground for the imagination as well as for the body, with hidden passageways, enormous dragons, crystal formations, stairways and more of the museum’s ubiquitous slides.

If you’re not totally exhausted by those attractions, you can head upstairs to the no-skate skate park, which features actual Masonite quarter- and half-pipes and two concrete bowls, which you can run up and slide down (and tunnel under, of course). I must say that I am proud that The Boy has an instinct for proper sliding technique:

Whew! And I haven’t even mentioned the museum’s huge art-crafts room, the aquarium, the shoelace factory and other attractions. There’s so much to see and do that you could spend the whole day there and still not hit everything. Not that your body would be physically capable of such a task; it’s been four days, and I still have some lingering soreness from all the climbing and sliding.

This past weekend, we took the kids to St. Louis, a trip that included a trip to the top of the Gateway Arch. I had to put on a brave face for the kids because my heart was about to beat out of my chest going up in that tiny tram.

Sunday’s beautiful weather also included a bit of a breeze, which was strong enough to make the top of the arch sway a bit. Eep.

While St. Louis doesn’t boast the impressive skylines of Chicago or New York, it does have a few architectural highlights. Visible front and center, of course, is the Old Courthouse, the site of the infamous Dred Scott Decision.

The red-brick building just off the northwest corner of Kiener Plaza is the Wainwright Building, considered one of the first modern skyscrapers. Because it was built in 1892, it actually wasn’t named for the Cardinals’ 2006 World Series hero.

St. Louis, like every other city, also has its share of lowlights. At lower right is the Adam’s Mark Hotel, which used to be called the Pierce Building. In the 1980s, the building was ruined by fitted with a ghastly, Watterson Towers-style facade.

[rant] I suppose it seemed like a good idea at the time, but an example of such retrofitting in our town further shows that re-skinning an older building almost never is a good decision. The metal cladding on the tower at Sixth and Monroe streets is an eyesore and merely provides roosts for hundreds of birds that the alleged Bird Whisperer is whack-a-moling around downtown. [/rant]

And finally, at the left edge of the photo, we have what is affectionately called Lake DeWitt. Named for the de facto owner of the Cardinals, Lake DeWitt is the footprint of the previous Busch Stadium. More than two years after the Concrete Doughnut was knocked down, the area still remains barren despite the millions of taxpayer dollars handed to DeWitt and Co. for development of the so-called Ballpark Village.

Besides the Arch, we also hit the Science Center, as well as the unspeakably awesome City Museum, pictures of which I hope to have up soon.

When you don’t have anything remotely interesting to write about, just post a picture of your dog.

After putting The Boy on the bus this morning, I spent 10 minutes chasing Basie across streets and through half the yards in the neighborhood. Yeah, I know… he’s just a pup, and he’ll eventually get things figured out. But right now, his bad moments far outnumber his good.

It just occurred to me that my experiences raising puppies somewhat mirrors those of raising my kids when they were babies.

Miles had his naughty moments to be sure, but in teaching him basic obedience tricks (sit, come, lay/lie down, etc.), he got them immediately. And he wanted nothing more than to do whatever it was you told him to do, even as a pup. The Girl then came along a couple of years after Miles.

Working nights, it was logical that I take the early morning feeding shifts. She was a whiz with those; I could have her up, changed, fed, belched, changed again and back down within 30 minutes or your pizza’s free.

When The Boy came along a few years later, he was virtually the polar opposite of The Girl.

He would fight that bottle so much that some nights it would take two hours or longer just to get him fed. Eventually, he refused the nighttime bottle altogether. Dude just preferred the boob. Can’t say that I blame him. Today, he’s a sweet, charming little boy. But back then, I was ready to sell his monkey ass to the circus.

So I’m sure in a couple of years, I’ll look back and wonder why I got so worked up about Basie’s puppy hijinks. But until then…

Full disclosure: I am a small-dog bigot. I loathe little wussy dogs. Dogs should not have long, flowing locks, nor should they be festooned with bows. They also should not have to suffer the indignity of the shaved ass. If you’re going to get a dog, get a Dog. Otherwise, just get a cat.

There, I said it. *cleansing breath*

This year’s winner of the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show is Uno, a beagle. That’s a perfectly acceptable breed of canine, one that can actually earn its keep by doing useful stuff like tracking game or sniffing out dead people. Plus, the dog’s name is Uno, which reminds me of back in the day, when we used to make fun of one kid in the neighborhood who had one testicle by calling him Uno. Good times.

In other Man Dog news, Basie went to the vet Monday. He has doubled his weight (he’s 15 pounds now) in the three weeks since he joined our family. Even the vet seemed mildly surprised. Basie doesn’t really eat that much. He’s more of a grazer than a devourer. We’re still on our first bag of Puppy Chow. Maybe it’s the rabbit poop and dead birds he’s filling up on.

Here’s another picture, this time of him gunning for the camera strap: