Mando.org

Just wanted to say Happy Mother’s Day to Tracy and Mom.

This morning, as I was taking a shower, I started thinking back on my first job as a sound engineer at our local church. Specifically, I was thinking back on all of our hacks to make things work the way we thought they should.

One of our big problems was communcation between the sound booth and the folks on stage. Invariably, someone would want the monitors to be lounder (or quieter), or the mix cleaned up, or something like that. We tried everything from hand signals to coded phrases, but nothing seemed to work. One day, it
clicked.

We ran an additional microphone to the piano player’s mic stand so they could talk on a talkback channel on the mixer. Simple, elegant, and most importantly,it worked.

That’s when I realized that Uncle David is gone and I’ll never get to talk to him again.

David Lopez was a bear of a man. He was large in every conceivable way. Physically, emotionally and spiritually he was a grandiose being. He filled every room, every converstation.

He got me the job. Granted, it was a volunteer position, but it was still fairly risky to trust something that big to a kid that was still in high school. I learned so much about life while working there that I will never be able to fully thank him for the opportunity.

David passed away a couple of months ago. I was away at a conference when it happened and wasn’t able to get back for the funeral. But from what I understand, our family had a large bbq/party afterwards, which is exactly how David would have wanted it.

He loved it when the family gathered together to talk and have fun. He knew what was truly important in
life, and I’m starting to learn that lesson right now.

Thank you, Big D. Have fun playing for your favorite audience. We’ll see you soon.

Last Sunday, Tracy and I were sitting downstair on the couch watching TV. Aiden was upstairs watching The Lion King. All was quiet, which is a rarity in a house with 2 boys, when we heard the upstairs toilet flush.

“You think he’ll wash his hands?” I asked Tracy. Before she could respond, I was answered by the sound of running sink water. It ran a bit longer than your average hand-washing, but it sounded about right for a three-year-old.

About a minute goes by, and Aiden comes bounding down the stairs sans pants and underwear. He was also clutching his underwear in his left hand. This is usually not a good sign.

“Mommy,” Aiden said, “I pooped in my pants.”.

Sure enough, upon inspection, there was, shall we say, a load in the underpants. While suppressing giggles, Tracy takes the underwear and sends me upstairs to clean Aiden up. Half-way up stairs, Tracy yells “These underwear are soaked. I think he tried to wash them. Find out where.”.

“Aiden, did you try to clean your underwear?”

“Yes, Daddy. Follow me. I will show you.” Quite mature for a three year old, if you ask me.

I follow him into his restroom and tell him to take off his clothes so I can give him a bath (sometimes it’s better to just start off with a clean slate, so to speak). As we pass the sink, he points up there and says “I cleaned them in there”.

Then, he pulls up real close and in his tiniest, whisperiest voice he says “There’s some poop in there.”. And, again, there was a small surprise waiting for me in the sink.

Oh, the humanity.

Last night, Tracy comes downstairs after putting Aiden to bed and tells me that she’s worried about raising two boys. I immediately think that I’ve done something retarded and am the “second boy”, so I fire off a pre-emptive “Sorry, baby”.

She follows with this great toothpaste story.

“After Aiden’s bath, I told him to brush his teeth and meet me in his bedroom”, she says. Now this is a new thing we’re trying, because usually we monitor his toothbrushing activities to ensure proper brushing.

She says “He comes into the bedroom covered in toothpaste. And I mean covered. So I take him back to the bathroom to clean him off and I find the bathroom covered in toothpaste as well.”

“I get him all cleaned off and put him to bed. The whole time he’s quite proud of himself, saying ‘Mommy you see? I cleaned up the mess’. Then, I went back to the bathroom to clean up his mess.”

“I reach under the sink to grab a towel, and I find his bath towel shoved in with the rest of the clean towels. When I pulled it out, it too was covered in toothpaste.” This is obviously what Aiden meant when he said he cleaned up the mess.

_rac-on-teur_

*n.*

> One who tells stories and anecdotes with skill and wit.

That’s what I want to be . I’ve got the stories and anecdotes part down, I
just need to work on the skill and wit part.

My good friend Brandon Salinas is out in LA and he’s looking for writing or game designing gig. He’s great at both, so if you (and by you, I mean the royal You) or anyone you know is looking, you’ll be hard-pressed to find someone better.

His contact info is at http://www.bpsalinas.com.

“Knock Knock, Daddy!”
“Who’s there?”
“Apple!”
“Apple who?”
“ME! HAHAHAHAHAH! That’s funny, right Daddy?”

Substitute “Apple!” with banana, ice cream, and Cheeto and you have our dinner conversation last night at Chuy’s. The funniest part is that it actually got funnier and funnier as the night went on .

My dear, sweet, first nephew. We all longed to see your face and hold you tight, especially your Mom and Dad. They loved you so very much. And they love you still.

As a young boy, I spent many great summers with my cousins and I couldn’t wait for you to come up and spend the summer with us and your Big Cousin Aiden.

We still don’t know what happened, or why God chose to take you from us before you even arrived. Our pain is deep and our grief is overwhelming, even though we know that you’re in a better place.

I just want you to know that we all love you very much and we still can’t wait to see you. I guess we’ll just need to wait a little longer than we thought.

Love,

Uncle Mando

Samuel,

You should know that I’m really bad about remembering birthdays. Actually, I’m pretty bad about remembering a lot of things, but I seem to have a real problem with birthdays. We’ve never met, so you’re just gonna have to take me at my word on this one.

I’m sorry I forgot your birthday this year. Your new baby cousin has been quite the distraction, and I’m afraid that I just plain forgot. Your Aunt Tracy remembered, of course, and she was a comfort to your Mom and Dad. Grandma and Grandpa still ache from your loss, but they’re getting better.

We each mourn in our own way, but we all remember.

Happy Birthday, little nephew. We’ll see you soon.

Here’s a couple of great pics of the E-bros.

Aiden’s first words when he saw little Dom: “Can I pet him?”