Dear Kid,

I am on my way to Dallas.

Dallas, Texas, that is. Turns out there are 5 or 6 (depending on which website you check) cities in other states with the name Dallas, not to mention a few counties, and at least one very important guiding eyes dog.

Dallas is the 9^th largest city in the US. It was once part of Mexico, and then from 1836 to 1846 it was part of the sovereign country the Republic of Texas. Mostly it’s part of the state of sports (primarily football, but we’ll get to that), We Do Things Big Here, and weird stuff.

It is illegal to modify the weather in Dallas unless you warn residents via local newspaper. It is also illegal to fish using electric shock.

We’ll be flying in to the DFW (Dallas/Fort Worth) airport which is bigger than Manhattan Island and may or may not be home to the world’s largest parking lot. We will not be sprinting from the gate to the car rental and we will allow plenty of time to hike to the gate on our way home Friday.

German chocolate cake was invented by Sam German of Baker’s Chocolate Company. The recipe first appeared in the Dallas Morning Star in 1957. The cake is named after the inventor not the country.

Dallas was founded in 1839, by John Neely Bryan, a lawyer from Tennessee, who wandered into the area and decided to start a metropolis (20 streets).

At the State Fair of Texas (also known by me as the Fried State Fair) you can purchase fried beer, fried Coke, and fried Cadbury Creme Eggs. There is a 52 foot Big Tex statue at the entrance of the fair. Makes you want to buy a ticket right now, doesn’t it?

Dallas is known for oil, although there aren’t any oil wells in the city.

Dallas has a zoo which was founded in 1888 with two mountain lions and two deer. It’s a lot bigger now (both the city and the zoo).

According to Fortune magazine’s marketing research, more popcorn is consumed in Dallas-Fort Worth than anywhere else.

Dallas is known for invention and industry (in addition to oil). The frozen margarita machine was invented there (it was a repurposed soft ice cream machine), the integrated circuit computer chip was invented there (not frozen), and the ATM was invented there by someone who was tired of waiting in bank lines. Clearly, the modern world would not be possible without Dallas.

A piece of cake from President Wilson’s daughter’s wedding is built into the Woodrow Wilson High School’s cornerstone.

Where there is oil and margaritas, there is shopping, and Dallas has a lot (and by “a lot” I mean more places to shop per capita than anywhere else in the world). The first planned shopping center in America was developed in Dallas in 1931. At one end of the shopping scale, 7-Eleven was founded in Dallas; at the other end, Neiman Marcus opened there.

The Dallas Cowboys were originally known as the Dallas Steers. The name was quickly changed, however, when the team’s general manager decided he didn’t want a castrated mascot.

And sports. Texas sports. Dallas Mavericks, Dallas Cowboys, Dallas Hams (the original name of the professional baseball team), Dallas Stars (hockey), Texas Rangers, FC Dallas (soccer), and countless minor league/college/high school/club/misc teams. Lots and lots of sports. But mostly football.

And for the next few days, me.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

I was distracted at physical therapy.

Not the “Squirrel!” kind of distracted.

The “let’s give your bones some room to breathe” kind of distracted. The “your legs are pretending to be two entirely different lengths and we intend to address this” kind of distracted.

I know you’re learning about this in school which is why I’m bothering to tell you about it.

Because The Reality has nothing whatsoever to do with the theory you’re being taught.

Allow me to explain.

There I was, lying on my back, trying to overcome a diluted caffeine system (what with it being first thing in the morning), ligaments and tendons grumbling at being forced to move (everyone knows that respectable ligaments don’t move before 10am), when

WHAP!

In the mere blink of an eye, the merest nano-fraction of time, my mild-mannered khaki-clad physical therapist transmuted into full-on dominatrix mode. Black leather, spiked heels, domineering grin. The only thing missing was a whip. Oh, wait. Patient leg, whip, pretty much the same thing. And WHAP! my leg cracked through the air levitating my body a good six inches off the table. Then, PHWAM! I slammed back down (dang gravity).

“Wha? …”

“Mmm-hmmm” smiled the PT, all traces of sadism successfully hidden away.

“What?” When you’ve got a good line, stick with it.

“Well, if I’d told you what I was going to do, you’d have tensed.”

Um, yeah, and with good reason apparently.

The physical therapist molested my ankles. “Much better.”

Clearly, we do not share a definition of “better”.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

I started writing this letter to you (in my head) while driving home from the soccer game last night. Well, not exactly this letter.

I composed a great beginning. And a pretty good ending. I had a general idea about what the middle of the letter was supposed to do. Only it refused to come together. The words simply did declined to arrange themselves in a way that would make sense to normal human beings. (You can refrain from pointing out that the vast majority of the time the words in my brain refuse to arrange themselves in an order that makes sense.)

Here’s where it started:

There is a lot of road work being done in Cincinnati these days. That makes now differently from the rest of the year in exactly no way whatsoever.

Good, right?

The middle part of the letter would go on to discuss how roads are like life (stick with me here). Some parts of our lives are just fine and can handle regular wear and tear. Some need a little bit of cleaning up (street cleaning), some parts need repair (potholes), and sometimes we need real structural overhauls.

This part was going to be brilliant. It would be quoted by poets and philosophers. It would be The Defining Blog of the Day.

Except for the part where I couldn’t compose a single coherent sentence.

Which, when you think about it, is a lot like some road projects. The ones that get started and never really go anywhere.

Making life a lot like road construction. But without a publication deadline.

Love, Mom

P.S. We won the soccer game.

Dear Kid,

Hopefully, you’ve done a better job of keeping up with the Important News of the Day than I have, but just in case you also missed the announcement, there is BIG NEWS and her name is Sarah Thomas.

The NFL has hired her as its first female full time official.

If you are thinking “Woo Hoo”, you are right.

If you are thinking “It’s about freakin’ time”, you are right.

If you are thinking “It’s too bad this has to be a big deal”, you are right.

If you are thinking “How come this isn’t a bigger deal?”, you are right.

If you are thinking “How does she get all her hair hidden under her cap?”, I have no idea.

If you are thinking “Coffee”, you are right because she drinks a cup of hot coffee before every game no matter what the temperature is.

If you are thinking “I thought the Universe smiled on September 13, 2015”, you’re right because that was the day she made her NFL regular season debut.

If you are thinking “Have I heard her name before?”, the answer is maybe.

Sarah Thomas was the first woman to officiate a major college football game, the first woman to officiate a bowl game, and the first woman to officiate in a Big Ten game. Which makes her a big deal. A bigger deal than the general media (which has largely ignored the story) has led us to believe.

If you are thinking “So the answer is 53?”, you are right because that is her officiating uniform number. Watch for it, because she will doubtless reach other firsts for women.

And I still want to know how she gets all her hair hidden.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

(Don’t tune out—you’re actually going to like this after the first paragraph or so.)

Once upon a time, there was a Viking King named Ragnar. Like most Vikings of Legend, he was the scourge of France and England, the father of many sons who weren’t all exactly devoted to him, went around killing giant serpents, and had a big beard. He probably raped a few people too, but no one talks about that. And since he’s been dead a really long time, he is seen as “a conqueror, a wild man, a leader, fearless, and free-spirited.”

Which is why the founders of Ragnar chose to name their crazy races after him.

Ragnar is a team relay race (12 members per team) over about 200 miles. Yes, you read that right. Each runner runs three times (legs are between 3 and 8 miles of varying difficulty). The rest of the team hops into vans, drives to an exchange point or cheering point, pretends to sleep, and waits for their turn to run.

Just to be clear there is no sailing, warring, or serpent killing during the race. Beards are optional, costumes are encouraged.

Ragnar races are run in a bunch of cities, none of which are Cincinnati, so you don’t have to worry that I’ll enter.

You can stop laughing now.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

If you happened to be around on this day in 1875, you might have noticed something interesting in your Twitter feed. Like that you had a Twitter feed. #TimeWarp

You might also have noticed that the Big News was that Captain Matthew Webb became the first person to swim the English Channel. #ChannelSwim

Training in Those Days was different than it is today. Webb drank brandy, coffee, and beef tea during his 21 hour and 45 minute swim. #SwimDrunk

He also smeared himself with porpoise fat for insulation. #WetSuitsAreBetter

This story does not have a happy ending. #FairWarning

After surviving jellyfish (long live sea turtles!!) and whatnot, Webb was celebrated as a hero. Not too long after that, Webb discovered that his accomplishment was “so yesterday.” #NoOneCares

But Webb liked being in the spotlight #BadChoices and decided to be an inventor. #NoOneCaresAgain

Eventually, Webb came to the US because we love crazy people. In order to prove himself hashtag-worthy (#NotSoMuch), Webb decided to swim a treacherous part of the rapids at Niagara Falls (a part known for its people-eating whirlpool). #CrazyStoopid

The locals #PeopleWhoKnowOfWhatTheySpeak told him it was suicide because over 80 people had died there. #NotAPopularTouristAttraction Webb declined to decline and 5 days later his body was found. #WeToldYouSo

#AvoidStupid

Love, Mom