Author: Bryan

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True Grit?

The Coen brothers are doing a movie based on the novel “True Grit” by Charles Portis. They’re looking for a girl who is “tough and tells it like it is” to play Mattie Ross. Debbie Hope, who really only knows Mandy by reputation, emailed me to say she thought of Mandy when she heard about it. I mentioned the casting call to Mandy and she decided that it was an interesting idea.

So Saturday morning, she and I went to the Peabody (along with every other young teenage girl in Arkansas) to interview for the part. I had to find a photo to take along, and Tom Riley at my office said we couldn’t do much better than this year’s rather practical-looking school photo.

While we waited, Mandy read the coverless paperback copy of “True Grit” that I’ve had for years. The casting people did group interviews, with twelve girls at a time. In Mandy’s group, the casting director asked “what do you like to do with your friends?” Everyone else in Mandy’s group said that they liked to go to movies and send text messages. Mandy said she liked to backpack and cave. Everybody else got sent home. They kept Mandy.

They gave her three pages of script from the movie and an appointment to come back that evening to read for the part. Once Mandy confirmed that we could do that and still have supper with our friends Britt and Debbie, she practiced her scene, in which she was supposed to tell a stable owner that he should pay her back for a horse stolen while in his care. After pasta and salad and a unicycling demonstration at the Thompson’s, she and I went back to the Peabody for her audition.

The other girls were called in, one by one, and we heard murmurs behind the door as they practiced the lines once and then recorded their auditions for the camera. Mandy drew a reindeer on the back of her script.

Then Mandy was called in and the door closed. And if what they are looking for is a little blond girl with green eyes who is PISSED that her horse was stolen, then folks, that’s what they found. No quiet murmurs behind the door for this one. I heard her yelling all the way in the next room. “THAT HORSE was stolen while it was under YOUR CARE. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE!”

So that’s how things ended. We went back to Britt and Debbie’s for cupcakes and board games and then headed home. None of us thinks Mandy has any chance to get the part, since this is a multi-state thing, and just here in Little Rock they had a whole herd of girls coming back to film auditions. We’ll know for sure when a month goes by and we haven’t heard from them.

But it’s fun to think about, and it will make the movie fun to watch when it comes out, won’t it?

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She’s Gettin’ Nuttin’ for Christmas

Mandy tried out for a cute little part in the choir’s Christmas program: “My favorite things” from the sound of music, I think. You know, the “raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens” song. The teacher gave those parts to quiet, sweet girls with ribbons in their hair. She had our daughter sing “I broke my bat on Johnny’s head, somebody snitched on me.”

It’s almost as if the choir teacher knew about that incident in which the classroom bully-boy got a black eye. Which was of course an accident. Or the time when Mandy accidentally stepped on Hunter’s head. It was purely coincidence that he’d just said something mean to her.

The high school auditorium was packed; I’ll bet there were two thousand people there. Mandy wore a hat and sang on key. We enjoyed the program and were proud of her.

http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=8432877&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=00ADEF&fullscreen=1

Here’s the solo part to Mandys Christmas concert/song… thank me later for just putting up the solo and not the whole two hour concert (complete with a song about Santa in camo… I hate Saline County sometimes).

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Installing our Christmas Tree

http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=8025588&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1

This year we decided we’d try a time-lapse video of the tree decorating. The video is long and honestly not very interesting, so you probably shouldn’t actually watch it unless you’re really having a slow day. The high points include trying to trim the lower branches with a giant lopper thing without bonking somebody in the head with the hugely long orange handle, and Mandy dancing with the cat.

Several days later, the tree still looks beautiful with its mix of red balls and silvery snowflakes and sparkly icicles and family ornaments. It keeps leaning much farther toward the kitchen, though, as if it wants a sandwich.

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Christmas Tree Hunting

http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=8025561&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1

Last year, our first family Christmas, Bryan and Mandy declared it imperative that we buy a real tree, from a real farm. We found a great place complete with healthy trees, a good selection, a brisk business, and a cheerful older couple who informed us that they were retiring.

So this year we had to start from scratch again. On the advice of an acquaintance we headed toward Sardis. Three farms later we finally found a tree big enough for our living room that wasn’t overpriced and overgrown. The best part? We can go there next year too.

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Thanksgiving in New Orleans

We arrived in Metairie at a completely normal two in the morning. Because that’s just how we travel.

On Thanksgiving morning, after a trip to Morning Call for beignets, we helped put together a big dinner. This is the first year in memory that the meal’s been at Bryan’s mom’s house instead of his grandmother’s. This year our contributions were a turducken and Bryan’s lemon-snow pie. The turducken (a conglomerate mass of stuffing inside a chicken inside a duck inside a turkey) was okay. The pie was wonderful.

After lunch, Mandy put on an impressive unicycling demonstration. (Over the course of the afternoon she taught herself to ride off an 6-8″ dropoff.) And then we went to Bryan’s Aunt Lynn’s for Thanksgiving supper. And then his Uncle Edgar and I conspired to break a lovely decorative serving plate by flinging it across the driveway. This is something Uncle Edgar and I hope everyone forgets about before next year.

On Friday, after a trip to Morning Call for beignets, we picked up Bryan’s grandmother and headed into New Orleans. We parked at the end of the streetcar line and rode all the way down Carrollton and St. Charles, past the park, past Tulane, past all the interesting houses, past history.

We got off at Lee Circle and walked to the National World War II Museum. (Mandy had chosen this spot from a list of possible Friday activities, based entirely on the fact that she knew nothing about WW2. I was proud of this reasoning. Most of us choose based on things we know and like, things we’ve already filled in somehow; Mandy chooses based on blank places.)

The museum is EXCELLENT. It’s well put together, with a great mix of physical artifacts and printed-on-the-wall stories and little alcoves with continually playing movie clips about different small pieces of strategy and destruction and sadness. It’s put together chronologically and makes sense. After eating lunch we saw the movie in their new “4-D” theater, which was stunning. I think we all learned a lot, from Mandy all the way up to Bryan’s grandmother, who clearly remembered getting shoes with ration stamps. And we enjoyed the streetcar ride back to the Subaru.

On Saturday, Mandy got up early to go fishing with Bryan’s dad and his brother Kevin. This time not only did they catch actual fish, but she managed to stay in the boat. (Last time she’d fallen out while peeing off the side.) After a trip to Morning Call for beignets, Bryan and I had some rare quiet time to visit with his Aunt Dot. During this “quiet time” Bryan and I demonstrated our skills on the Rolla Bolla we had recently constructed. Bryan is able to do a “jump mount” onto the Rolla Bolla and then juggle three balls while continuing to balance.

And in the evening we ate what fish our fishermen had caught, along with Bryan’s rice pilaf and some cauliflower withbeachamel sauce.

After supper we had a little birthday party for Mandy, complete with the now-traditional birthday doberge cake. And there were presents: some clothes and games, a neat book, cards with money, and the real prize: a new pocketknife from Mister Grandpa JD!

On Sunday morning we met up with our friends Beth and Jeff in order to say our first hello their new baby, Lucy. (Don’t worry, I still got my beignets. We met at Cafe Du Monde.) By the time we got back to the house, Bryan’s dad had my old broken sled all torn apart. He was replacing the splintered deck with new white oak slats. After a trip to Lowe’s for bolts for the sled, and a trip to Dorignac’s for groceries we can’t find at home in Arkansas, and a stop for poboys at the gas station, and goodbyes all around, we loaded up and headed home.

The trip home went well, though we drove in and out of rain. At ten pm, in Dumas, we stopped to get a snack at McDonald’s. In a downpour, we turned back onto the highway and started driving again. Our conversation was tedious and involved, as it always is when there’s nothing pressing to discuss but there’s a need to keep words flowing, on a drive, late at night, just for something to hang in the air, just to keep eyes open and on the road. I think we were talking about skydiving. The rain came down in sheets. About an hour later, expecting to be near Pine Bluff, Bryan remarked that it was odd to see a lake, there, on the left-hand side of the road. A green road sign that it was just 16 miles to Greenville. And that wasn’t good, because we’d crossed the Greenville bridge hours before.

We’d turned the wrong way, in the rain, in Dumas. And we’d driven south for an hour before noticing. We couldn’t be mad–as driver, Bryan should have had the sense to know which way to turn, but as the copilot, I should have had the sense to notice something was wrong. There was nothing to do but turn around. It was still raining at midnight, and as we drove past the McDonald’s in Dumas again, the light blinked off.

We got home at two in the morning. Because that’s just how we travel.

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On One Wheel

The answer is: one week. It took her one week to learn to ride a unicycle. Bryan still can’t ride more than ten feet. I barely even get up on the seat. And the child orbits us in big, sweeping left-handed circles, smiling, held up by the wind.

Unicycle Dreams (3 of 3)

All cavers, it seems, have a bat sticker on the rear of their vehicle and this caver is no different.

Unicycle Dreams (1 of 3)

Here’s a short video taken on Saturday afternoon, in the parking lot of a nearby church. There’s still lots to learn, some priorities being how to get on by herself, and how to turn RIGHT (not left). But my daughter may now be the best unicycle-rider I know.

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Wobble…pedal…fall…repeat

Sunday morning, after breakfast, we got out the unicycle so that Matt could give it another try. We had juggling balls and clubs out, too. Bryan taught himself to juggle years ago, when he was in high school, and then he’d taught David down the street to juggle and to pass.

And Mandy gave free rides around the neighborhood on the GTT. It’s funny. We had a whole circus in the front yard.

We all took turns on the toys. As it turns out, Matt hasn’t ridden a unicycle in years and could only get halfway to the neighbor’s driveway. Bryan can ride for about twenty scary feet.

When everyone else was done, Mandy got the unicycle and leaned on the car for awhile. Mandy has this odd little personality quirk. Occasionally she’ll decide that she’s going to do something ridiculous, something she’s clearly unqualified to do. It’s as if she just didn’t get the memo stating its impossibility. I’d like to think this is consciously-directed determination, but really I think it’s just a sort of unpredictable, uninformed intensity.

The first time I really noticed it was when she was tiny, and learned to walk several weeks before she could even stand up. She’d just sort of launch herself into the room and move her legs until she fell down. Then she’d crawl back to where she started and try again. Years later, the week before her fifth birthday, she said “I am going to learn to ride a bike next week.” I dutifully bought a bike, and it took her an hour and a half to learn to ride it. Then, nobody really told her that an eight year old couldn’t do a ten hour wetsuit trip in a cave, and so she did.

Watching her sit on the unicycle, next to the car, I had a feeling that she was going to decide that she would learn to ride. So I wasn’t surprised to spend nearly all day outside in the street, providing an arm to lean on as she lurched down the asphalt on one wheel. I wonder how long this project will take?

http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/v/0TXPupkoEOk&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0

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Back to the Ranch

David came back this weekend, from Baton Rouge, with his girlfriend Selena and his mechanic-friend, Matt. We really enjoyed meeting Selena and had a good time climbing together. Late in the day, Mandy took off her too-small climbing shoes, set them on the ground next to her, and declared that she would never ever put them on again for any reason. (I guess it’s time for an upgrade.)

The Speleobox at HCR is top-notch, and we nearly always visit the barn to climb through it before heading to supper. This is one is fairly new and very well made and nearly perfectly sized for adults (that’s Selena’s feet as she enters the box).

Matt’s from Colorado, having only recently moved to south Louisiana. He’s a better climber than we are, at least currently. He and Bryan had a great time talking about trad climbing near Boulder and RMNP. We made them ride by themselves in one car, and the rest of us talked about books in the other car. Apparently their conversation veered into other subjects, though, because when we got home at 10:30pm they jumped out of the car and grabbed our unicycle from the garage; Matt says he can ride.

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Dark Fairies

Mandy and I just finished reading the “Fablehaven” series, by Brandon Mull, and she wanted to make a dark fairy costume. We started with her regular synthetic black long johns and added a pair of tall black leather boots and a dark green velvet dress from the goodwill store, which we altered significantly with scissors. We made a pair of black wings with four coat hangers, some black tights, and a lot of black ribbon.

The costume worked well. We were pleased by her transformation into a dark fairy, but are hopeful that her friends the centaurs will soon be able to unite the magic pebble with the nail stolen from the revenant in the grove, driven into the twisted tree of evil at the edge of the tar lake in the territory of Bahumat the Demon, restoring light to all that is dark.

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Attack on Mt Magazine

A few days earlier, I had received an email from the Arkansas Bicycle Club with some of their upcoming rides listed and one of them was a ride from Danville, AR to Havana and then up Mt. Magazine.

When I first read this idea I joked to Aly that we should do that. We laughed and time marched on but later in the week I found myself thinking “ya know… I think we actually could do that.”

Route map for todays ride

When the day arrived, Aly didn’t feel good so she stayed home to try and fight whatever bug she had off while Mandy and I packed up our tandem recumbent trike and headed to Danville.

In addition to riding up the tallest mountain in Arkansas, we would have a ham radio and GPS unit on the bike which would sent our position reports every two minutes. This was our first time trying that out and Aly would be at home monitoring our progress off and on throughout the day.

In the photo above, you can see the GPS unit and radio. If you click on the photo you’ll be able to see notes explaining each of the parts.

So… recumbents aren’t known to be good climbers and trikes even worse so… and we had a tandem recumbent trike! This would be the tallest and longest climb for either of us, over 2500 feet of climbing and ~21 miles from the bottom to the top. That 21 miles includes the 10-12 miles of “warmup” ride to get to the start of the climbing as well as the rolling hills in the last 3-4 miles on top.

Here’s an elevation profile for todays ride…

Elevation profile for todays ride

The group waited for us at the gas station in Havana which is about 9 miles from the starting point. With the warm-up over, we turned off Highway 10 and headed for the top of Mt. Magazine.

Regrouping at Havana

I’m extremely proud to say that Mandy and I grunted and groaned though the next several hours and climbed that bitch at an average of 3 mph. We never did dip below 2.0 mph according to the GPS but we did get pretty close! It got to the point that if we were able to go over 4 mph then we were pretty darned happy (c:

As I mentioned, this was an ABC ride but everyone else was on their two-wheeled-skinny-tire-go-fast bikes so we didn’t see them once the climbing started. They made sure we got to the top (about two hours after they did) but then they all headed down and back home.

So this “group” ride was more of a solo outing for Mandy and I with a few people in the vicinity that we knew.

Once at the top (about five hours after we left our vehicle), we stood in line for the lunch buffet at the Lodge and my legs were so week I had to keep sitting in nearby chairs!

After about 30 minutes in line, we were finally seated and lunch could actually begin. We took our time, enjoying the cold water and comfortable seats. After eating we found a sunny spot and a couch to sit on and rested while our bodies processed the food.

While waiting we watched a wedding take place outside, hang-gliders floating above the Lodge and we flipped through a photography book about Oklahoma.

As we were leaving, we had a nice lady take our photo and we answered her questions about our ride up. She was familiar with recumbent trikes because, get this, many people in her retirement community have them!

The ride down was a blast, we wore our rain jackets to cut the wind and kept the speed under 41 mph! The bike was super smooth and stable at that speed and we arrived at the bottom only 40 minutes after leaving the Lodge!

What had taken nearly four hours to climb up, took only 40 minutes to ride down. I’ve ridden my bike down the other side of Mt Magazine but this ride was so much sweeter since we actually earned it (instead of driving to the top).

The GPS data for this ride can be downloaded from here.