“I was at this restaurant. The sign said ‘Breakfast Anytime.’ So I ordered French Toast in the Renaissance.” – Steven Wright

Dear Kid,

There is a lot of sign language in our house. Not American Sign Language (although there is a lot of that too. But that’s a topic for another day.). I’m talking about more physical signs—the way a pile of rocks used to mean “turn here” or a piece of wood painted with various animal parts means “you can buy food and drink here.”

There are the subtle signs of spring. The annual Switching of the Comforter for Lighter Blankets. The delivery of huge piles of mulch that will sit, blocking the driveway, for weeks on end.  The lone tulip that means “you forgot to plant bulbs last fall. Again.”

There are food signs. The smell of something wonderful coming out of the oven. The sudden appearance of fans and open windows which means Something has Gone Terribly Wrong in the Kitchen.

There are the signs of Things To Be Done. A pile on the stairs clearly means “Take me upstairs.” The silverware basket sitting on top of a clean towel which is the international symbol for “The dishwasher is clean. Please help empty it.” The appearance of a basket of clean laundry in the family room which means “if you’re watching tv, you’re folding.”

There are signs of Stress. No one fussing about the level of detritus on the kitchen table, but everyone fussing about an innocently raised eyebrow. The sudden disappearance of half of the ice cream in each container.

Any time you go to a new environment, you have to learn to pay attention to the sign language, the unspoken rules of How Things Are Done. College is no different. When you go to college, you will have to learn to speak an entirely new sign language. Some of the signs will be obvious; some will be much more subtle. And you will probably make mistakes. Freshman do that. But in no time you will be a pro. Just keep your eyes open, your brain (somewhat) engaged, and your empathy turned on and you will be fine.

Love, Mom

Twister, Cincinnati Cyclones Mascot

Dear Kid,

We we went to the Cyclones hockey game last night. The crowd was surprisingly light for a playoff game.

I went to a fight the other night, and a hockey game broke out. Rodney Dangerfield

Two minutes into the game, the Reading team (never did quite figure out their team name) had scored twice and we had spent 17 hours in the penalty box.

The Beanpot is the most important college hockey event in the universe.

I had quite a nice discussion with a psychology major from the University of Cincinnati who was at the game with her parents. She’s taking a sign language class so we chatted (and signed) a bit. She’s teaching her mom sign via Skype which I think is really cool for both of them. More importantly, she was kind enough to watch my purse when we went for food so a big Thank You to her.

Billy Smith was the first goaltender in the NHL to be credited with scoring a goal (Nov. 28, 1979).

On a huge check, one of the boards broke. Play stopped while they replaced it (during which the Cyclones continued to not score. But at least they didn’t get any penalties.)

The center red line is “broken” because back in the olden days when television was a teeny tiny black and white screen and everything was run by the network (hard to image a world without cable and 900 inch TVs) it was difficult to distinguish the red line from the blue lines.

During intermission, Pi and I got to high five Twister, the Cyclone mascot. Somebody (who ought to remember who bough his pizza before he makes snarky comments) said, “Cool story–you can tell it at parties to break the ice.” Funny, kid. Very funny. (<– note the sarcasm font)

Wednesday, Sept. 23, 1992, Manon Rheaume made sports history by being the first woman to play in one of the four major sports leagues in the US. (She was the goaltender for the Tampa Bay Lighting in a pre-season game.)

Deep in the second, our boys finally found the back of the net and the crowd went wild. Seriously, wild. Wish there was a way to bottle that kind of energy and sell it to college kids–no more problem with 8am classes!

Then we tied it up –and in the last few seconds they scored and the game ended 3:2, them.

Love, Mom