Why Kwame isn't going anywhere

So what happens now with Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick?

He was back at work today, after a week of self-imposed seclusion. The media were barred from getting anywhere near him as he walked to his office (probably a preview of things to come). And looking at the context of what Kwame said last night in his private address to the people of the city, it will be quite some time before the entire sordid texting affair (snicker) is played out.

Here is what I think will happen:

(1) The mayor will absolutely not resign. He made that clear in his speech last night when he made that Brokeback Mountainesque claim that he couldn't quit the city. He will try to hang on to the bitter end, if it comes at all. Why? He and his inner circle are convinced, perhaps correctly, that he can weather the storm surrounding the texting scandal. If yesterday's pro-mayor demonstration in front of the Spirit of Detroit is any indication of where things stand with the city's electorate, and barring any gaffes between now and the next election for mayor, Kwame is safe.

(2) Kwame is safe because, as he and his supporters will remind everyone, he has done a lot for the city. Hundreds of abandoned buildings have been torn down. Dozens of new buildings have been built in the downtown area. Whole neighborhoods have been cleaned up. Some of his plans have run afoul of the unions in the city (i.e. outsourcing some city services, converting public schools to charter schools, strong-arming city workers into accepting pay and benefit concessions), which would explain why they were the primary organizers of yesterday's anti-mayor rally, which was held at the same time and place as the aforementioned pro-mayor rally. And yes, there were fisticuffs.

(3) Since there is still the pending legal matter of whether the mayor and his former chief of staff committed perjury last year during the Whistleblower Trial, don't expect any answers from him regarding his behavior or the decisions he made. The media can dog him all they want, they won't get anywhere. If anything, the possibility of the mayor facing perjury charges gives him a convenient out. Otherwise, surely he would have opened last night's speech to the droves of reporters waiting outside. He may have even done a 1-on-1 with his favorite media personality, Steve Wilson. (Now that would have been something to see). Alas, all that the media will be able to do is run through the 14,000 text messages and try to find a smoking gun.

(4) And then there's the issue of any perjury charges. The county prosecutor has said that she has launched an investigation into the matter. Does that mean that charges are guaranteed to be forthcoming? Not at all. To the casual observer of the content of the text messages, it seems obvious that Kwame and his chief of staff did commit perjury when they denied having an affair or any knowledge of the firings of police officers who were close to exposing the affair. But you and I (well, I'm assuming most of you) have spent a grand total of zero hours in law school. What if the text messages are ruled inadmissible? The case would pretty much be blown away if that were to happen.

(5) If the perjury charges do come to fruition, expect the whole process to come to a c-r-a-w-l. The mayor's attorneys will make sure that it will be years before there is a trial. At some point Kwame would have to decide if wants to run for re-election in 2009. Expect him to. And he'll probably win if, as I mentioned above in #1, he stays out of trouble.

(6) Here's the climax: IF there is a perjury trial, and IF a jury of the mayor's peers find him guilty, then and only then will we see Kwame M. Kilpatrick resign as the mayor of Detroit, rather than face the embarrassment of removal by the city council (if they even have the power to do that). But that's two big IFs. More than likely, if it even got that far, he would beat the charges - and go on serving as the mayor.

That's why the deputy mayor scoffed on Tuesday when a reporter (sounded like Steve Wilson) asked him if the mayor was going to resign. There are plenty of hurdles to get over before we get there - IF we get there. Again, to the casual observer outside the Manoogian Mansion, it seems that resigning is a foregone conclusion. But Kwame and his friends think he can beat the scandal, beat the charges, (and, hell, beat Steve Wilson and the "white media") and go on. For sure, his legacy will be controversial and divisive, and it will go on ...

... for a while longer anyway.

Missing Motown

"Philly's fine, but it ain't home. Detroit's home, but it ain't mine no more."

Neil Diamond never sang those lyrics, but I'm convinced he would have if he had to choose between those two cities under the same circumstances.

Ahh, Detroit. The Motor City. Motown. The Big D. The 313. Hockeytown. The Arsenal of Democracy.

I miss it. Call me crazy.

A year ago at this time, the dining room of our house in Royal Oak was nearly impassable, filled with a pile of boxes that almost reached the ceiling. We were in a mad scramble to try and get everything organized, labelled, and packed before loading a rental truck bound for Philadelphia. And although we were staring at a mountain of boxes, most of the big things were staying behind temporarily for staging purposes to help try and sell our house. The scene was surreal, and it smacked like something from a Dick DeVos campaign ad.

It was a huge transition for our family. The metropolitan Detroit area had been my home for almost 12 years, and Jena had been there for about seven of them. We dated and got married there. We rented our first apartment together there. We bought our first house there. We joined our first church there. Charlie and Jamie were both born there, in the same hospital.

There were a lot of other "firsts" too, but those were by far the biggest ones. And we left a lot of friends behind. Putting this all together, you can see why I still have so much affection for the place.

But that's not the whole story. I really became interested in the city. I bought a copy of the Detroit Almanac. I did research and learned about the city's history. I read extensively about many things: the buildings downtown, the auto industry, the causes and the events of the 1967 riot, the War of 1812, just to name a few.

I liked to surprise Jena with Detroit things. One year we went to the Dally in the Alley. Another day we checked out the Eastern Market and enjoyed barbecue and bought a smokebush for the yard. We went to see the Belle Isle aquarium on the last day it was open. Just a few days before Jamie was born, we went bowling and ate lunch at the Majectic. We went exploring and found Mexicantown and Greektown and fell in love with its restaurants and bakeries. We brought our boys to the Detroit Science Center. I brought Charlie and waited in a long line to pay our respects to Rosa Parks when she was lying in state at the Charles H. Wright Museum of African American History. Jena and I saw the VanGogh portrait exhibit at the Detroit Institute of Arts. We took my in-laws on the historic house tour of Indian Village. We admired the houses of the Boston-Edison neighborhood. We went for the grand opening of the new Detroit airport terminal. We took my parents to an RV show at the Silverdome, the Chrysler Museum, and took them to the Ford Rouge factory tour. We became members of the Detroit Zoo and visited several times. We went to the North American International Auto Show one year. We were all over the RenCen and Campus Martius the day of Super Bowl XL. We had box seats for a Red Wings' game once. We checked out the new (and small) Hard Rock Café. We saw Jimmy Kimmel at the Gem Theater. We saw the Rockettes at the Fox Theater. We saw "Les Misérables" at the Fisher Theater. We saw "Roman Holiday" at the Redford Theater. And one day I drove her to the intersection of 12th and Clairmount in Detroit and told her that we were at the epicenter of the `67 riot.

I took pictures of abandoned buildings and was fascinated with what the city may have been like 40, 50, 100 years prior. I read all about the Book-Cadillac Hotel, joined its Friends group, and was excited to hear about its renovation (we're making plans to stay there one day when it is finished). I was sad to see the demolition of the Madison-Lenox Hotel and Hudson's flagship store. I admired the United Artists Theater building and its painted windows. I had an opportunity to see the former Michigan Theater building, which is now a parking garage, from the inside following a job interview (the theater is in the movie "8 Mile"). I propped Charlie up for pictures in front of Tiger Stadium, the Michigan Central Train Station, and the Chin Tiki (also in "8 Mile"). I remember what Trapper's Alley looked like before the Greektown Casino took it over. I went to art shows and flipped through pictures of Olympia stadium and the Ford Rotunda. I bought an old Northwest Airlines terminal sign that said "Welcome to Detroit," and bought a piece of steel artwork with a silhouette of Detroit for my basement bar (not built yet). I dreamed of maybe someday buying the GAR Building in downtown Detroit, if my finances, my wife, and the Illitch family would ever allow it.

I also read about uniquely Detroit things: Hudson's, Vernor's, the Purple Gang, the original plans for the PeopleMover, Zug Island, and the Nike base on Belle Isle, just to name a few. I probably have seen enough of Detroit, and know more about its history, than a good deal of the people who have called it home for their entire lives - or certainly enough to have a good, friendly conversation with a local.

So when people ask me today where I am from, I say "Philly ... but I just moved here from Detroit." I guess I am secretly hoping that maybe the other person is from the city, or has at least been there. But most of the time, unfortunately, that's as far as it goes.

It ain't mine no more. But maybe someday it will be again.

Creepy Artwork for Kids

And now for something from the Disturbing Department.

We recently ordered some books through Charlie's pre-school. Among our selections was a series called the "Thomas & Friends" Book Club. (For those of you who don't have kids, Thomas is a train engine that has a show on PBS and is wildly popular with the under-5 demographic). This week we received a pretty elaborate piece of cardboard that will serve as the bookends for these books. The picture above is of a drawing on one side of the bookend.

C-r-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-p-y ...

What are these train engines smiling so maniacally about? Did they just drop off a few thousand people at a Nazi death camp? They hiding bin Laden?

Something evil is afoot here.

Too Tired For Art

On Sunday we went to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Normally admission for adults is $14, but on Sundays you can "pay what you wish." Why anyone would go on any other day of the week is beyond me, but we decided to each pay $5 and check the place out.

The museum is BIG; it's divided into two wings on two floors. American Art, European Art 1850-1900, Modern and Contemporary Art and Special Exhibitions are on the first floor, while European Art 1100-1500, Asian Art, Arms and Armor, and European Art 1500-1850 are on the second floor.

Maybe we don't know our art, but for most of the museum we were kinda lost. But eventually we did see some VanGogh, Manet, Monet, Renoir and Picasso. There were even some Andy Warhol pieces. We saw some of the more familiar portraits of George Washington too. Another interesting exhibit were portraits and busts of Benjamin Franklin. (You can't get enough of Franklin in Philly). The armory reminded me of similar displays in the Tower of London and in Venice.

As the picture above suggests, the boys were pretty well behaved. They were both sawing logs for about half of the visit, which made the trip a peaceful one, but we had to take turns pushing their dead weight around. I noticed that several museum employees were smiling and snickering at us as we navigated through the galleries. Guess they have seen that before a million times.

Not to sound negative (I'm really not a negative person), but I didn't really understand what was so great about the "Notations/William Kentridge: Tapestries" exhibit; it's just construction paper on clip art maps. The real headscratcher for me (and I think for Jena too) was Cy Twombly's "Fifty Days at Iliam" collection. It looked like something my 1-year-old and 3-year-old could have collaborated on ("Fifty Days at Daycare"). After we saw this, Jena and I wondered aloud how many people had to decide that a piece was "art." But I think "Iliam" is worth seeing if only that it could inspire people who don't think they are talented enough to be an artist to think otherwise.

Well, I was inspired anyway.

High on the Hejab

On Saturday, Jena and I ventured into Center City Philadelphia for a date, while a babysitter stayed home with the boys. It marked the first time since our move to Philly that we went out on a bondafide date (not including the time I took Jena to the Cherry Hill Municipal Court for a traffic violation).

We drove down to the Woodcrest PATCO station and caught the Speedline into the city, disembarking at the 8th/Market Street Station. (It's really nice to live in an area where mass transit is a viable option). We had tickets for a 7:40 movie, so we had a little bit of time for dinner. After passing on a couple options that had longer waits, we decided to eat at Aqua Cuisine, a Thai-Malaysian restaurant at 706 Chestnut Street. (Thai is one of our favorites). After a Satay Chicken appetizer, Jena had Kari Ayam and I had Sambal Udang. For dessert we had coconut ice cream, which was pretty amazing. We probably would have stayed a little longer, but we had to rush over to the Ritz at the Bourse theater, about three blocks away, to catch the movie.

Our date movie was "Persepolis," an animated film based on the novel by Marjane Satrapi. The film was written and directed by Satrapi and Vincent Paronnaud. The movie starts in Tehran in 1978-1979, just before the Iranian Revolution. Presented from then 9-year-old Marjane's perspective, the film shows how the Iranian people agitated for freedom from the repressive (and U.S. backed) Shah, but their dreams turn into a nightmare when Islamic fundamentalists take over. The women in the country were forced to wear the hejab, a black head covering. Life is made even more miserable by the Iran-Iraq War. The movie ends with Marjane a 21-year-old expatriate living in Paris.

There has been a lot of Oscar buzz around this movie, and I hope it wins. It has already won the Prize of the Jury at the 2007 Cannes Film Festival.

After the movie we walked back to the PATCO station (passed Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell twice ... that doesn't suck!) and caught the Speedline back to New Jersey. We took bets to see if the boys were still awake, but miraculously they were both sound asleep when we got back.

A successful date night!

Door - 1, Charlie - 0

Today, Jena and I joined an exclusive fraternity, Ro Sham Sew (better known as "Parents Who Had To Rush Their Kid To The Hospital With His Head Busted Open.")

It happened like all accidents I suppose, suddenly and without warning. This morning I had come home from a job interview, and Jena was about to leave for work. She was sitting at our desk and I was standing next to her, looking into the kitchen. Suddenly, Charlie ran around the kitchen corner. He tripped over a small pile of laundry and landed on his belly. We have a closet in the kitchen with two bi-fold doors, and the doors were open at the time. When Charlie tripped, he landed flat on his face, and his head *just* made contact with the edge (or possibly the hinge) of the open bi-fold door.

Somehow, Jena got to Charlie first. He was crying and had his hand to his temple. That's when we saw a rush of crimson running between his fingers, down his face and onto his pajamas.

Emergency mode kicked in. We all scrambled out to the Jeep and were down the road in minutes. Charlie was surprisingly calm, and held a wet paper towel to his head. We debated where to go with him: the hospital or the pediatrician's office? We eventually settled on going to the latter, about 15 minutes away. Jena tried calling the office several times and, for some god-forsaken reason, no one was answering. "Why aren't they answering?!" But there was no answer. And when we got there, we found out that we should have gone to the hospital; they don't do sutures at the office any more (but reportedly used to do them).

The maddening thing about this whole incident is that it didn't seem like anyone at the pediatrician's office was in a big rush to help us. The triage nurses looked at Charlie and said he was "happy." Uh, NO he's not. And when I asked where the closest hospital was, there were a few suggestions, but no one knew exactly how to get to any of them. It's a good thing we live near a hospital, otherwise we would have been in a serious fix.

We left the pediatrician's office and drove about another 15 minutes to the hospital (5 minutes from our apartment!). We went to the emergency room and a nurse put a bandage around Charlie's head. We were later admitted to the "fast track" section of the hospital. When it was time to sew up his cut, the nurses put Charlie in a "papoose," which was basically a small body-sized board with huge velcro straps. When Charlie was completely wrapped up, he looked like he was in a straightjacket.

Then came the worst part: closing up the cut.

I had never seen stitches being administered before, so I helped comfort Charlie and hold him down. The doctor injected a painkiller about four times into various open spots of the wound, and it started to bleed again. At that point, Charlie started screaming at the top of his lungs, and did so for the rest of the procedure. A large swabbing of iodine came next, and then finally it was time to sew up the cut. The doctor used a small fishhook-like needle to thread the wound. The first stitch was at the center, the second above it and the third below. I actually thought that maybe he needed a couple more stitches, but it looks like three were all that were needed.

Charlie was let out of the papoose and he settled down right away. The nurses gave him stickers, cookies, and a coloring book, and he got even more goodies from Mom and Dad. All things considered, he was actually very good through the entire ordeal.

Now ... does anyone know where I can get a papoose?

Sellers beware! Taxpayers too!

You're all aware that the real estate market in the U.S. is a crapshoot right now. It's a "buyer's market" in most places; it certainly was when Paris Hilton bought our house in Michigan last July. Still, we consider ourselves lucky that we didn't need to come to the closing with our checkbook (which is essentially paying someone to take your house from you). Paris didn't give us as much as we would have liked (I thought she was rich?), but we figured we would make it up when it was our turn to be the buyer, in the Philadelphia area.

The tables have turned. Well, sort of.

Philly, it turns out, is a "buyer's market" too, but not everywhere. We've found that sellers in the more desirable communities are getting pretty close to what they ask for. Seems like that's the story everywhere, not just Philly.

But the X-factor out here are the taxes. Think you're paying a lot in property taxes? Try $6000 to $7000 on for size. Yeah, ouch. That's what they are in most places around here. New Jersey has the highest property taxes in the nation, and it looks like Pennsylvania isn't too far behind. Delaware taxes are low, but that's a little bit of a haul.

So I said the tables have "sort of" turned. That's because we've been looking for a house in New Jersey. The taxes are high, but we really like the communities on this side of the river. The people here are very nice too. We decided to put down roots in the Garden State, and started looking seriously for a house in October. Since then we've seen many houses (probably about 100), and made offers on three of them so far. Here is a little bit about them:

Avondale Road,
Haddon Township

This house sits on a fairly busy corner in the Haddonleigh section of Haddon Township. We first came across it while driving around in October. It has three bedrooms and one and a half baths. The front of the house is stone and has a very rich looking exterior. It has a tiny backyard, but there is a good-sized side yard. And although this house sits or a corner, the landscaping makes it very private.

But the bathrooms, and especially the kitchen, needed updating, the windows probably needed to be replaced, and there was no A/C. Also, there was a mold remediation issue in the basement, and there was some evidence of termite damage.

We paid $70 for a contractor to come out and see the house. He said there were some issues, but overall it was a well-constructed house and an excellent opportunity. After taking this into consideration, we decided to make an offer on the house. The seller countered, but we were far apart on a final number. It didn't look like we were getting any closer to bridging the gap after a second offer and counteroffer, so we walked away.

Stockton Avenue,
Wenonah

Another corner house (why were we looking at corners?), but this one was a ranch. Not nearly as busy of a corner as Avondale. The house has three bedrooms and two full bathrooms, one of which was off the master bedroom. The best part about this house was the full, unfinished (and dry) basement. There was some work that needed to be done: the hardwood floors needed to be sanded, the kitchen needed updating, and one bedroom had to be taken down to the studs because it had paneling on the walls, but no drywall behind it. But overall this was a good house.

We made an offer just before Christmas, and the seller made a verbal agreement at that price. What happened after that gets complicated, but basically the seller changed her mind. She actually RAISED the price of the house, probably to avoid a "short sale" situation. There was also some confusion about what the house was assessed at with the boro. We were disappointed, but we decided it would be better to move on.

10th Street,
Haddon Heights

This was a 4-bedroom, 2-bathroom house in the boro of Haddon Heights. It's on a very cute street where all of the houses in the neighborhood are different and well-maintained. Amazingly, this house is not on a corner. There is a very big backyard, and the lot is about 200 feet deep. The basement is full and unfinished. The entire house is clean, and in move-in condition. The kitchen is from the 50s, but it is in good shape, has quite the retro look, and has (we later found out) coveted Youngstown brand cabinets.

There was some downside: No A/C, oil heat, and a HUGE sweet gum tree in the backyard. Not familiar with sweet gum? It's a real crowd pleaser. It's a fruit tree that makes hundreds of little brown balls with spikes on them. We had one in Michigan about a third of the size of this one.

We made an offer, and it was accepted. We then signed a purchase agreement. But the next day we decided to pull back on the offer because of several uncertainties: my ongoing job search, Jena's eye health, and the news that Countrywide was being purchased by Bank of America, and that the Federal Reserve had lowered interest rates. We decided that maybe it would be a smarter idea to wait another month or two and see what happens. We really liked this house, and the town, so it was a difficult decision to make. But I think we will eventually wind up in Haddon Heights.

2007: Year Of The Toilet

2007 is over. All hail 2008.

Seriously people, I can't remember the last time I was so eager to see the ball drop in Times Square. To say that 2007 was a "bad year" would be a massive understatement. "Woefully abysmal" would be more accurate. The last 12 months were so unbelievably terrible, I've actually found myself scoffing at those who had a great 2007, and feel a kinship with those who would rather forget the year even happened. Had I not been in bed watching Ryan Seacrest inch ever closer to taking his undeserved spot as Dick Clark's heir apparent, I would have been in a bar in South Jersey somewhere, cursing 2007 and belting out Auld Lang Syne with the rest of the dregs that it left behind.

Now, one could make the argument that I was due for a bad year. I submit that five of the last eight years were particularly joyous for me. Consider during that stretch of time I met Jena (1999), married her and travelled with her to Italy (2001), we got our first house (2003), had our first son, Charlie (2004), and our second son, Jamie (2006). The other three years during that timeframe were also happy times, spent courting Jena (2000), house hunting (2002), and learning to be new parents (2005).

2007. Cursed. Damned. Unholy.

I know what you're thinking. "C'mon, Carlos ... isn't this a little over the top? No year could have possibly been THAT bad. You're exaggerating." Ah, but I wish I was. Allow me to illuminate you. Here is a breakdown of the past 365 wretched days that together composed 2007, written almanac style for your reading pleasure.

January
9 — After more than three months of being unemployed in Michigan, I accepted a job offer in the Philadelphia area. I then had to resign my position as a council member for Zion Lutheran Church, just days after being elected.

10 — During a Jan. 5-8 apartment hunting trip to the Philadelphia area with Jena and both boys in tow, we find a great place in Cheltenham and give a cash deposit to a landlord. But shortly after our return to Michigan, the landlord decides to rent the apartment to another couple who were doing a local move. He does, however, return our deposit money. But the decision means we now have to drive 18 hours back and forth to the Philly area again to look for an apartment, and the second trip will be without Jena and Jamie, because they are already booked on a flight to Florida to visit the grandparents.

13 to 15 — I drive back to Philadelphia with Charlie. We find another apartment, this one in Glenside. The rent is cheap and it is within walking distance of the SEPTA train. Unfortunately, upon moving in a few weeks later we discover the apartment is a total dump, and I immediately regret the decision to move there. We spend much of the rest of the year looking for a new apartment, and eventually break our lease.

22 — A real estate agent from Birmingham who we were going to have help sell our house, misses two appointments with us, and accuses Jena of making a scheduling mistake. We instead decide to list our house with another Birmingham agent, Dawn Rassel.

February
2 to 3 — We rent a large truck and a trailer for the move to Philadelphia. We say goodbye to our friends and neighbors in Michigan. The trip is marred by dangerously cold temperatures (around 70 below with wind chill) and near blizzard conditions.

4 — The Chicago Bears, my football team, lose Super Bowl XLI to the Indianapolis Colts, 29-17.

5 — My first day at work at my new job with a software company in suburban Philadelphia. In a telltale sign of things to come, my new boss tells me to "get started reading software manuals." The company gradually becomes a nightmare employer.

14 — On Valentine's Day, I go on a one-day business trip with my new boss and another co-worker. We take an Amtrak train to Washington D.C., where a client is headquartered. The Amtrak rides and the visit with the client all go smoothly. Upon returning to Philadelphia's 30th Street Station, we all split up to catch different SEPTA trains. I purchase some roses for Jena and then wait for the SEPTA train that will take me back to Glenside. While waiting, I see my new boss in a drunken stupor stagger up to the ticket window and get into an angry confrontation with a female ticket agent. He shouts and throws money at her, then angrily storms off to his platform. He had been drinking on the Amtrak train back to Philly, and had apparently gone to a bar in the station for a few more drinks before getting on the SEPTA. After seeing him drunk a few more times, both at work and in other settings, I deduce that my new boss may have a drinking problem.

March
4 to 24 — Jena gets very sick. She has an extremely painful sore throat. She goes to see a doctor on March 5, and I skip one day of travel back down to D.C. to stay home and try to take care of her. She isn't much better the next day when I have to leave her with the boys and go to D.C. Thankfully, the trip is cut short and I am back home for the rest of her illness. Jena does not improve, gets dehydrated, and is admitted to Abington Memorial Hospital on March 12. She is released a few hours later. I work from home, March 13-14. We decide to send the boys to their grandparents in Richmond until Jena gets better. I meet my parents in Baltimore on March 15, and Charlie and Jamie go home with them. Jena still does not improve. We think that the Glenside apartment, which is filthy, may not be helping her recovery. Jena takes a train down to Richmond on March 20. Jena finally starts to feel better around March 23, and I meet her and the boys and my parents again in Baltimore. Jena is sick for a total of 21 days.

27 — We find out that despite pleas from my parents, the pastor of their church refuses to baptize their grandson, Jamie, because his parents are not church members. It doesn't seem to matter that my parents have been active members of the church since 1992, and I was once a member there myself and worked with the Youth Group. We eventually get Jamie baptized at our church in Michigan, but no friends or relatives (or even the congregation) are in attendance.

April
7 — My mother-in-law comes to visit, April 4 to 9. (This isn't the bad part, I love my mother-in-law). On the night of April 7, Jena and I get ready to go out to a movie. The boys are asleep, and my mother-in-law is trying to get to sleep on the couch in our living room, but can't because our upstairs neighbors are having a loud party, and it's not the first one they've had. I decide to go upstairs and knock on their door and ask them to please keep the noise down. The drunk boyfriend of the young woman who lives upstairs answers the door and gets belligerent with me. He tells me that my kids make a lot of noise, and that therefore he doesn't have to keep the noise down. We almost get into a fist fight. After the confrontation is over and I go back downstairs, they are strangely quiet for the rest of the evening, but my mother-in-law is terrified. Jena and I decide to stay close and get drinks at Applebee's instead of going to see a movie.

May
6 — I lose my $300 cell phone following a softball game in Warrington. I may have placed it on the roof of my car while buckling up one of the boys.

9 — I get pulled over by the police (jurisdiction undetermined) in Jenkintown and receive a warning about a headlight.

11 — We attend a Chicago Cubs-Philadelphia Phillies baseball game at Citizens Bank Park in Philadelphia. I park on a street with a long line of other cars before the game, but afterwards I receive a $41 parking ticket. The Cubs lose the game, 7-2.

14 to 18 — I am sent to a client in Upper Saddle River, N.J. for a week with a co-worker. At the beginning of one of our first meetings there, my co-worker decides to introduce both of us, and tells everyone that "if you need help picking the next card in solitaire, Charlie is the guy to go to." I am furious. I initially decide to confront him during our lunch break, but when the opportunity to do so arrives I decide against it, since I may be working with him for some time. Holding back later proves to be a mistake.

25 — Jena gets a ticket after missing a toll booth on the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

29 — Jena gets her Pennsylvania driver's license, but I am unable to get mine because I don't have all the required paperwork.

June
2 — I return to the DMV for a second time, but am still unable to get my Pennsylvania driver's license because the computers are down.

4 — I am sent back to our client in Washington, D.C. Today is my first day of doing formal computer training to a group of people for my new job. The training goes well, but I make the mistake of confiding in an employee there that this was my first training session for my employer. A series of other incidents that did not involve me, most of them political, occur and I am sent home the next day.

7 — Jena has a car accident in Harleysville, Pa. While waiting to make a left turn at a light, another driver crosses the double yellow line and sideswipes her. The police do not come to the scene of the accident, but a police report is filed afterwards. The other driver tells Jena that his family-owned company will pay for the damages, but later that day we find out that they will not. Our insurance company pursues a claim against the other driver for the rest of the year.

8 — We finally receive an offer on our house, but it is for less money than we were hoping. Also, the young single woman who wants to buy our house, a Paris Hilton clone, demands that we make more than $1000 in improvements before closing. Since it is a buyer's market, and without any other offers or prospects, we comply. We spend the next five weeks getting the repairs completed. On the same day, my employer takes me off the Washington, D.C. account for political reasons.

28 — While Jena is out of town to cover an eye doctors' convention in Boston, and the boys are at a babysitter's house, I am suddenly terminated from my job. Despite my best efforts, applying for more than 100 jobs, I would remain unemployed for the rest of 2007.

29 — During the convention in Boston, Jena is diagnosed with Choroidal Neovascularization (CNV) and Degenerative Myopia in her left eye. There is no cure for CNV, and without treatment she could lose her eyesight. She begins two forms of therapy for the CNV, which continue through the end of the year.

30 — I decide to take down the web site for Brenda Monarch, my comic strip character, because of several problems (speed, email, price, downtime) with the web hosting company. It is the first time Brenda is not on the Internet since 1997, and her web site remains down the rest of the year.

July
13 — We close on our house in Royal Oak, bringing an end to 12 years of living in Michigan and the metropolitan Detroit area.

31 — My health insurance coverage through my former employer ends. We would be without health insurance for the next two months.

August
1 — On our first day of living in New Jersey, I am pulled over by the police for speeding in East Greenwich Township. We discover, too late, that Jena had accidently removed the insurance card from the car. I get two tickets: one for speeding, and one for failure to produce proof of insurance. The latter charge requires a court appearance.

2 — Jena has a meeting with her boss. She is told that her editor title will be changed to that of staff writer. The name change is made against her wishes.

6 — To save money, we need pull Charlie and Jamie out of daycare two days a week. They start going to daycare on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays.

12 — I need to replace another $300 cell phone. The screen broke when I put the phone in my front pocket and then had to run after Charlie in a parking lot.

13 — I receive notice that my court date in East Greenwich Township for my August 1 ticket had been changed to an earlier date, and I had missed it. Since our mail was still being forwarded from Glenside, I did not receive the notice in time.

20 — Comcast refuses to let me return our cable controller to the local office in Moorestown, N.J., so I have to drive an hour to another Comcast office in Willow Grove, Pa.

September
10 — I spend the morning at the East Greenwich Township courthouse for my court appearance. I meet with the prosecutor, who refuses to dismiss the charges of driving without proof of insurance. I have to plead guilty to the charge, and wind up paying about $100 for the ticket and court costs.

11 — Molly, my parents' 9-year-old Golden Retriever, dies suddenly after a brief illness.

13 — A sad anniversary. One year ago we decided to give away Clara, our Yorkshire Terrier.

24 — I prepare for, but fail, the Apple Certified Help Desk Specialist (ACHDS) certification exam. The test cost $150.

30 — After an improbable comeback from last place, the Kodiak Black Sox, my fantasy baseball team, lose the World Series to my friend Michael Miller's curiously-named "Maicer Izturis Kicks Erse" franchise, 6-4.

October
1 — To save money, we decide to pull Jamie completely out of daycare. Charlie keeps going three days a week.

3 to 6 — The Chicago Cubs get swept by the Arizona Diamondbacks in the NLDS.

26 — Jena goes to cover a convention in Tampa, Fla. During the trip, she loses our digital camera.

29 — Jena has her first CNV therapy treatment in Wyncote, Pa. She is given an injection in her eyeball of a drug called Avastin. For the next several days her eye is in pain from the injection.

November
9 — Jena has another CNV procedure, Photodynamic Therapy (PDT), in Cherry Hill, N.J. She must stay out of the sun and away from halogen light for the next 48 hours to avoid burning her skin.

10 to 13 — We learn that our friend, Linda Krasa, is dying of cancer. We decide to drive to Michigan to see her one more time. Linda passes away on Nov. 14.

21 — Jena gets pulled over by the police for not having a front license plate in East Greenwich Township. We think it is the same police officer who pulled me over on August 1 for speeding.

December
1 — I get into a low-speed car accident with the Jeep in Cherry Hill, N.J. A woman driving in front of me slammed on her brakes for no apparent reason way after a yield sign. There is virtually no damage to the Jeep (fortunately), but the other car was a 1990 Nissan Maxima and was totaled. Immediately following the accident, I get out and ask the driver (a woman in her 50s) and the passenger (her mother) if they are both OK and they say yes. We pull over and exchange insurance information. While doing this, the other driver calls the police. She then starts to complain about having a headache. The police show up, and ask if everyone is OK. The other driver again says that she is having headaches, and claims that her mother is having neck pain. The police officer writes me a ticket for careless driving, another charge that requires a court appearance in New Jersey. He tells me that he had to issue the ticket because the other driver claimed she was hurt.

7 — Jena has her second Avastin injection in her eyeball, this time in Cherry Hill. Again, for the next several days her eye is painful.

13 — I go for my court appearance in Cherry Hill. The other driver and her mother do not show up, but the prosecutor refuses to dismiss the charges. The prosecutor gives me two options: avoid points by pleading guilty and paying $400 in fines and court costs, or plead not guilty and go to trial, which I would probably lose and pay $600. At first I decide on the latter, but then change my mind and pick the former.

31 — The year couldn't go by without something bad happening on the last day. After returning from a relaxing trip to Florida for Christmas, I pick up a certified letter from the post office. The woman from the Dec. 1 accident had sought legal counsel, and it appears that she is poised to sue me and my insurance company. There aren't many details yet, but it looks like the fallout from this accident will continue well into 2008, maybe beyond.