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Contentsnotes Philosophy & Mission 6

editorial Oopsy-The Accidental Lesson 8what will I be? Dawson • Age 5 12

feature Spirit of the Storm 14lessons Chalkboard 22editorial Inspired Ink 26

fatherhood The Born Identity 32observations Bubble Bath Bonding 35

haute style Forever Cool 36mealtime The Red, White & Blue of PB&J 40

flashback The Workshop 42instructions Cutting Through All the Blue Tape 44

family pet Recklessly Red 48coming soon What’s in a Baby’s Name? 50

AREA NORTH DALLAS, TEXAS SUBSCRIPTIONS•ADVERTISING•INQUIRIES•PERMISSIONS•REPRINTSPHONE 940.300.6981 FAX 469.375.2487 ONLINE www.ragandbonemagazine.com EMAIL details@ragandbonemagazine.com

© 2008 REPRODUCTION IN WHOLE OR IN PART OF RAG&BONE MAGAZINE IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.no.04

ISSUE NO. ONE•VOLUME NO. ONE

Noble efforts for effect and purpose have often found light in the humblest of intentions. In times gone by, the Rag-and-Bone man and his wagon, laden with the discarded clutter and bric-a-brac of sorts, collected spent items of seemingly little use and recycled them into the very essentials of society.So to does Rag&Bone Magazine strive to salvage the worn, the tried, the dispensed and the often forgotten wisdoms, narratives and experiences of parenting and childhood, and recycle them for others to draw upon, identify with and share. Informational. Observational. Inspirational.

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notes

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Rag&Bone Magazine is a different kind of parenting & childhood

publication. Our content looks to not only be informational and observational but more importantly...inspirational

As children, our inspirations foster dreams and give us wings to chase them; as parents, inspiration pushes us to teach our sons and daughters to use their newfound freedoms to fly.

Rag&Bone wants nothing more than to be a resource and spark of creativity as you refer to and interact with the book. The words, photos and design found within Rag&Bone will hopefully provide ideas, support and an honest relative perspective. Maybe you will gain some insight into what you are currently “child-challenged ” with; or perhaps a story will give you cause you to recollect

a special memory from your own childhood experiences; or you may even glean an idea for a photo opportunity; or possibly find within the pages the perfect color to paint your kid’s room.

Whatever the inspiration, be it a concept, feeling, thought or just a smile, Rag&Bone is for parents, by parents, and always devoted to childhood. . . and those going through it. ø

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editorial

The road of life is paved with all sorts of materials, some harder than others.

Since birth, I have had my fair share of run-ins

with all of them. Who can forget their first

great raspberry-rash or super cool giant scabby

knee? As a kid, flesh wounds and the scars that they leave are not

only a sign of bravery, if not clumsiness, but also

personal footnotes for the stories that will get

better with age.

the accidental lesson...

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Before I get into the different modes of devastation and exhilaration, let me start with what I was blessed with. Yes that’s

right, who needs wheels when you have feet that you don’t know how to use yet. At 18 months I decided there was no crib built that could hold me, so I escaped. Climbing and jumping are learned skills that I did not possess at that tender age. As I fell to the ground, how could I have known that this was the start of my failed career as an “Injury Escape Artist.” My mother always said that the next few months watching me with a broken collarbone were some of the funniest moments of my childhood. Falling down is easy, and I proved that over and over again as a toddler. You’d think we would figure it out by the age of two or three, but oh no, we look ahead to bigger and faster ways to attain the “better boo-boo.”

The first weapon of mass destruction for me was the “tricycle”. Oh, how beautiful it all starts, riding along, wind in your hair and diaper, feeling free and empowered.

All of a sudden, your foot falls off the pedal, hits the carpet or asphalt, and if you’re really lucky, rolls behind you and gets sucked into the vortex of burning hot black back wheels, and you take a digger with a frightened smile, face first. No blood, no harm, and then you feel the powerful rush that you will seek again and again throughout your life as a daredevil. Maybe it hurts, tempting you to kick your bright red trike and cry to your momma. Either way, you are hooked and you seek the next vehicle to continue along this

road of destruction.At age six, I was the proud owner of

a plastic four-wheeled wonder known as the “real cheap skateboard.” It was pointed on both ends, and the wheels were made of die cast metal. It was radical and I was cool. This bad mamma-jammer was so ill conceived and poorly made that staying on for 8 seconds would have been easier atop El Diablo at the county rodeo. It was a beginner model, as was I, and with plenty of time and unscarred skin, I went for it. Lucky for me, a wooden stick for balance and a little more stability was to be mine in less than a year.

One day whilst belly boarding, with my best friend on the playground at school, he hit a bump and his lip was run over by the wheel. His own wheel! Although I do remember the moment it happened, the screaming, crying and bleeding, all bad, I also remember that Monday at school; the honorary badge of coolness that was his scabby face, the elaborated stories with gut wrenching detail, and the looks of admiration, all good.

Around the age of seven, a hand-me-down bike was in my sweaty, dirty little hands. As it just so happened, I lived up the street from a dirt lot that had been converted into a totally sweet BMX track. I was not bad for a kid who, when first learning to ride, could not avoid running into every tetherball pole on the playground. These were the days before mandatory helmets and the world’s abundance of gauze and bandages. A bike has several ways to bring the hurtin’. From the sock-eating, ankle-nicking chain, to the toe-smashing, finger-nipping spokes; and who can forget the lovely frame bar with pad included? This so-called pad, which every boy and/or man will tell you does not soften the blow, has the same ratio of cushioning as a sock covered hammer. That is assuming you are still on the bike at the moment of impact, which I rarely was.

I chose to mix it up the next few years with playful add-ons like roller skates, stilts and a couple of tries on a unicycle. Then at the magical age of ten, my beautiful

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I will tell you that each surface has its own level of difficulty, but asphalt’s cheese-grader effect, was always a notch above the rest. Even through all the carnage and tears, the youthful freedom and pure excitement a bicycle can bring remains some of my best memories as a kid.

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editorial

mother granted me the ability to add gasoline and a motor to my repertoire. A magnificent bright red All Terrain Cycle (ATC), with a high-powered factory direct 110 cc engine. At that moment Santa Claus was cooler than Ponch and John . My little brother and I shared this beauty and vowed to be extra good for this precious gift. It took a whole hour before I socked him and took an extra turn, I was older after all. In the four years we owned it, I ran over my little brother’s foot, my foot, my leg, my torso and my head (in a helmet), and the last four were in sequential order and at the same time. It was wonderful and we were never seriously hurt.

Years went by with more of the same; good times and big time wipe-outs. Before I knew it I was 16 and beginning a new chapter in my life. There is a weird transition that takes place that you don’t recognize at the time. When you start to drive, that little kid part of you goes away and Mr./Miss “I’m so cool ” is born. Do not fret, for the daredevil youth in you is not yet dead, only hiding. With a little coaxing we can all get in touch with our filthy-faced, stubbed-toed, lizard catching alter egos of yesteryear. But alas, are you sure you want to?

As I sit here typing, I am painfully reminded of precisely why I am sitting, and sometimes lying down, punching the keys of this laptop. I became in touch with my younger self as my beautiful children were coming into these fabulous years of their own. Over the last few years I have been instrumental as an instructor to my children as to the aforementioned pieces of equipment. About a month and a half ago, I decided that I could help my son on his skateboard ramp. I assure you that I navigated the ramp with deft and ease, and dare I say, a little grace. That is where

my coolness abruptly ends. Standing motionless on the board, I leaned a little and the deck slid right out from under me. Then, feet rising, arms flailing and horror mounting, I crashed with a pathetic thud onto the sidewalk, in front of the house and in front of my kids.

As a kid, I think I fell an average of at least 10 times a day. As an adult it seems that my limit is once. A charlie horse or stinger is what we called them back in the day, and was hoping I would be calling this in the here and now. No, it seems that fractured pelvis and stupid are the new words associated with my attempts to get back to my childhood. Well what the heck, I have been working too much anyways. Right? And were it not for my lack of skill and balance, I would not have been prompted to recall my youthful adventures. I will say that with all this extra time to sit and think, I have realized the absolute truths in a couple of important quotes. These are: “no take backs and no erasies” and “it is all fun and games until someone gets hurt.” These sayings were ruined by grown ups and I choose to lay the blame of my accident on them. ø

Signed,

Cry Baby/Poor Sport

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what will I be...?

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A dventure may be the most appropriate brand on the apparel of life. Donning life’s garb with unbiased and unfettered dignity, childhood’s innocent wards wear it with a passion for as long as time will allow. As we age we seem to lose the ability to exert our imagination

and wonder upon the simplest of our surroundings, throwing them aside to be stubbornly burdened under the weight of careers, finances and society. Mark Twain, that genuine sage of honest living, created a yardstick in the likes of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, by which all of childhood can be measured. These characters embody the innocence, naivety and curiosity of childhood while testing the rules and exploring their limits. The penned exploits of their youth serve as a reminder of the dichotomy of what is really necessary for a good life, and what is only deemed so by the societal pressures of adulthood.

Spirit StormLife is full of lessons learned, taught and experienced, however, the best of life’s wisdom

imparted may come naturally if not hindered or denied. Although we cannot forever sustain the vigor of our bodies we certainly can hold tight in our minds to the adventures of youth. Mark Twain once said, “No child should be permitted to grow up without exercise for imagination. It enriches life for him. It makes things wonderful and beautiful…”

of the

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feature

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He would be a pirate! That was it!Now his future lay plain beforehim,and glowing withunimaginable splendor."-Mark Twain-

""

"

-Mark Twain-

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feature

He would be a pirate! That was it!Now his future lay plain beforehim,and glowing withunimaginable splendor."-Mark Twain-

""

"

-Mark Twain-

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“In a word,

everything that goes

to make life precious

that boy had.

So thought every

harassed, hampered,

respectable boy...”

-Mark Twain-

youth“The elastic heart

of youth cannot be

compressed into

one constrained

shape long at a time.“

-Mark Twain-

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feature

“In a word,

everything that goes

to make life precious

that boy had.

So thought every

harassed, hampered,

respectable boy...”

-Mark Twain-youth

“The elastic heart

of youth cannot be

compressed into

one constrained

shape long at a time.“

-Mark Twain-

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"Some day

it may seem worth while to

take up the story of the

younger ones again and see what sort of

men and women they turned out to be; therefore

it will be wisest not to reveal any of that part

of their lives at present."

-Mark Twain-

"Some day

it may seem worth while to

take up the story of the

younger ones again and see what sort of

men and women they turned out to be; therefore

it will be wisest not to reveal any of that part

of their lives at present."

-Mark Twain-

Special Thanks is owed to Mark Twain and the stories no child should be without.Models • Madison McGehee, Jackson McGehee, Dawson Debevec, Harrison McGeheeno.20

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lessons

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editorial

Such is often the experience of those ready to forever alter their body for the sake of self-expression. Tattoos are a passion for some and a pariah for others. Despite the love-hate status tattoos have in today’s society, there is no denying they are increasing in popularity and are blurring the lines across demographics.

Tattoos are a prevailing characteristic in society today, articulating individualism and giving voice to self-expression. A 2003 Harris Poll found that 16% of all adults have at least one tattoo, with 36% of Americans ages 25-29, and 28% of 30-39, making up the largest age demographics . During this election year it may be interesting to note that 18% of Democrats and 14% of Republicans have elected to be delegated among the tattooed constituents. Vote wisely.

Getting ink should not be a spontaneous act of getting caught up in the moment, flipping through tattoo flash books as if browsing for a party outfit in a contemporary catalog. This party doesn’t end, and you certainly can’t take off the outfit . It may not be the actual permanence of the art, but rather the essence of it, that should be most considered. A tattoo should be inspired, deep in meaning as well as ink, personally significant and have a timeless relevance.

Sailors on shore leave, bikers on the road and rockers on stage are being met en masse by parents with a passion . Becoming a parent is a rite of passage, and hearkening back to the arts’ history, tattoos are a devout way to mark such a milestone . Hannah Aitchison, a tattoo artist and co-star on TLC’s LA Ink says, “It’s a way to embrace your parenthood .” The tattoo itself may serve as a reminder to you, and a declaration to others, of your commitment to your child or children. This artistic

adornment can also be in fun and fashion. Many celebrities honor their offspring by getting tattoos further influencing this movement. Celebrities such as Angelina Jolie, Johnny Depp, David Beckham and Pamela Anderson all have tattoos indelibly inked for their children. It would be disparaging to downplay the significant meaning of these types of tattoos to mere celebrity trend. Inspiration and ideas often come from popular culture and are nonetheless credible and authentic. History itself may be the better stone to overturn in the quest to define this current cultivation of body art.

Long before tattoos became a fashion statement, they served as rites of passage, signified rank or status and often were tribal identifiers. The fact is, it wasn’t until Captain James Cook returned from the Marquesas Islands in 1769 that the tattoo became more dermis decoration than a mark of meaning. Having been among the Polynesian, Cook stated that “ . . . they print signs on people’s body and call this tattaw.”

They print signs on people’s body and

call this tattaw.• Captain James Cook •

Indeed, many of Cook’s men returned with such “tattaws” including some officers. Tattoos enjoyed a rather aristocratic affair with British royalty and among the nobles. King George V himself was counted amongst the inked elite. The exclusivity of this art, due to the foreign few who mastered the technique, soon became

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somewhat of a commodity when, in 1891, the electric tattoo machine was invented. Originally an innovation of the enlightened Thomas Edison, this patented engraving device was adapted into the electric tattoo machine by Samuel O’Reilly. The consequences of readily available tattoos served to diminish the distinguished nature of the art, relegating it to a lower status, and somewhat dampening its acceptance in society. This art remained “tattooed” by this counter-culture classification until the end of the 20th century, and although not exclusively-elite as it once was, it is certainly a sign of the times.

Society’s current acceptance of tattoos may be due in large part to the broad demographic trend of those who have them. Some may be surprised at what lies beneath the shirt and tie, pant suit or other career clothing moving about the office and streets of the city. After hours these closet rebels let their hair down and their tattoos show. Those who enjoy an ink-link with their children span the gamut

of age, sex, race, education and profession. Popular cable television shows such as TLC’s LA Ink and Miami Ink as well as A&E’s Inked have brought this once subversive scene to prime-time in full color. These shows have helped to sway the “as yet undecided” into tattoo shops where they are eager to join the ranks but often unaware of the commitment and consequences . Jason Boatman, a tattoo artist at Saints & Sinners in Carrollton, Texas, says he is grateful because “. . . it brings in business, but the people don’t realize it is just a tv show.” The desire to display the bond with their children in the form of a tattoo brings many to the parlour who would not otherwise be there. Clients wander in without a clue to what it is that they want and are often overwhelmed when they realize they have to make a quick decision with permanent ramifications. This is where a good tattoo artist can help “flesh out” a design that expresses their clients’ intentions and make the experience significant and the outcome special. Jason tries to steer his customers into a “. . . tattoo

that is cool, but not obvious,” saying the more personalized and deep in meaning the better the final result .

Tattoos representing family, loved ones or children are common and may make up as much as 40 to 50% of the clientele according to Jason. He also notes that “most parents with more than one or two tattoos most likely have one for their children.” Tattoos generally have obvious meaning but more often than not offer a special glimpse or insight into the life or experiences of those who they adorn.

Inspiration for the content, meaning and significance of a tattoo should only come from within, or at least be genuinely consistent with your beliefs, attitudes and lifestyle. The high profile nature of fame has provided celebrity examples of tattoos devoted to children and family. Angelina Jolie may be the most famous tattooed mother of all, and may have the most original tribute in ink. The latitude and longitude coordinates for each of her 4 children’s birthplaces are inscribed on her shoulder, making her a walking GPS. To

I finally realized what I wanted a tattoo to represent. Mine are all about the people

in my life, my wife and sons, who I want with me always.

• David Beckham •

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“Bend it Like Beckham” you would need to bare your children’s names boldly across your back under an exquisite guardian angel. In regards to his tattoos David Beckham comments, “I finally realized what I wanted a tattoo to represent. Mine are all about the people in my life, my wife and sons, who I want with me always. And not just in my heart. When you see me, you see the tattoos. They’re part of me.”

Pamela Anderson, ever egotistically appropriate, has “mommy” tattooed around her ring finger. Remember, it’s the thought that counts.

Perhaps the most unintentionally famous heir-homage to be inked is that which Johnny Depp flaunts in Disney’s “Pirates of the Caribbean” trilogy. The “swan” tattooed above the flowing “Jack” is for Depp’s own son and not a mere prop. The right time, the right place, savvy?

There may be more to this movement than celebrity influences, social trends or alternative means of expression. It may be generational. The boomers have raised their children, and have done so in a very conservative way. Neil Howe, the author

of numerous books on generational differences and an accomplished economist, historian and demographer, notes that “Boomers like to be good parents across the board, but they parent in a more ideological sense.” The effect of such upbringing has created more of a “hipster” generation, the Gen-Xers. Those born between 1961 and 1981 have set the standards for this new parental philosophy. Life is seen as more modular, allowing one to be uniquely different at home, work or with friends and family. Gen-Xers may lead more edgy, high risk and care free lives but

are “...strikingly more protective of their kids than boomers ,” according to Howe. “They may play in a rock band, but won’t let their kids listen to rock or hip-hop lyrics .” The dichotomy of being both, more edgy, while also more protective may be the perfect chemistry that has fueled this tattoo revolution. The ultimate blend of self-expression and sentimentality. Can you hear the buzz of the tattoo machine whirring the remedy for your restlessness?

Parenthood being such an inspiration for a tattoo should also dictate a

responsible and well thought out course of action. Often, during pregnancy, expecting parents will focus on the details of their lives to avoid trying to wrap their minds around the concept that they will soon be charged with a small, beautiful life completely and solely dependent upon them. It’s easier to think about the color of the nursery, where to put the glider, or what you are gonna get tattooed across your arm.

Tattoos during pregnancy are not recommended. Deborah Ehrenthal, program director of obstetrics and gynecology at the Chrisitiana Care Health

System in Wilmington, Delaware states that “Your skin changes during pregnancy and that may change the way the tattoo looks after you deliver the baby,” and more importantly, “If the equipment is not properly sterilized, there’s always the risk of transmission of blood-borne infections such as hepatitis B, hepatitis C, and HIV.”

Though excited, a new mother should wait to get that “forever for you” tattoo until she is done breastfeeding. Dr. Rachel Lewis, a New York City pediatrician says, “The ink’s not the problem – there’s not

enough to leach into your milk in large doses – but you could get an infection from a contaminated needle, which you could pass to your baby through your breast milk .” Parents sometimes choose to get tattoos together commemorating this momentous event and addition to your family, but dad. . .wait until mom can join you for your family outing to the local tattoo parlour. A new mom is going to have enough emotional issues to deal with, don’t bum her out by getting tattooed before she can. You’ve waited nine months, you can wait awhile longer.

The days of the sea-tested sailor dutifully bearing the art from their voyages, much like stamps on a passport , have all but gone out with the tide . In their place have come a new generation and with them a new cause . The quintessential “MOM” tattoos have given way, and have been prominently succeeded by the new “Mom’s tattoo.” Tattoos have become a sort of family affair, and though unlike an heirloom it cannot be passed down through the generations, but traditions and tatts endure. ø

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editorial

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no.32

fatherhood

As we move through life we often do so in a manner that betrays our attempts at being

humble and selfless. This may be due less to a vain awareness of ourselves and rather more appropriately, if not conveniently, the result of innate tendencies for self preservation. Looking out for our personal well being and interests is after all, the requisite perspective of most living things. It is this necessary ideology that perpetrates natures need to reproduce, ensuring continuing existence through nascent heirs, and, when all is said and done, may be the very thing that in turn humbles and saves us.

YOUR WORLD TURNS UPSIDE DOWN...

It is difficult, at best, to perceive of the complete relinquishment of ones self into another until you have experienced the birth of a child. Parents will attest to the instantaneous metamorphosis of their concept of identity. It happens so fluidly, and with such lucidity that as your child takes their first breath you feel your lungs fill, really fill, for the first time in your own life. In a word, you are reborn. As the first cries of your child trumpet through the almost stifling drone of confusing excitement and bustling dashes of activity and protocol, you catch the first glimpse of the rest of your life, and it all suddenly becomes

so clear. This is who I am. Though you are forever intertwined and willingly encumbered you are also set free. The daunting responsibility of parenting actually allays the egotistical burden of “who we once were” and defines more importantly “who we now are.”

This is how I understand the circumstances of parenthood and the meaning of life. It may infringe on the overtly philosophical or even spiritually poetic, but “peace is not in living life, but in giving life.” All that you know changes; your routines, responsibilities and desires have all conceded to this small yet complete presence in your life.

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A favorite team in the MLB Playoffs with a genuine opportunity to reach the World Series may be enough justification to cast your lot into the ring of spousal scorn, compounding to-do-lists and questionable hygiene; that is, until her water breaks. Now all bets are off, even if you do have some riding on the outcome of said baseball bouts. Even the almost palpable nervous excitement does little to prepare you for the emotional free-fall ahead. Suffice it to say that the birth of a child is a wonderful, deeply personal adventure that words cannot do justice. Wait and see.

Suddenly, almost urgently, priorities change and responsibility is redefined in an oddly foreign way (at least you now have an excuse to ignore the to-do-lists). This hastened abdication of self is emphasized by the compelling sense that not one week ago you did not even know this child, and now you would willingly, without hesitation, jump

in front of a speediing car for them. Sacrifice takes on a whole new meaning. Identity evolves.

Careers may be the single largest component in the make up of ones identity to this point, but even they pale in comparison to becoming a parent. Parenthood paints a new perspective on goals and renders new meaning for the term “raise.” Sometimes steps along the career path are not as important as those you help your child take.

Socially you win some, you lose some. Your roster of friends will most likely undergo some departures and additions, further delineating what was once your identity, and what is now your reality. Drinking and parties give way to bottles and birthdays, and are only recalled if this amusing social shift causes one to curiously ponder the way it used to be.

Hobbies and personal satisfaction are relegated to after hours, whatever time that is, and fueled only by the energy

spared by the obligations of parenthood.Change is certain. This journey is

uncharted to the uninitiated, forever being rerouted for those who have already embarked, and wholly cherished by the faithful who ran the course. The road is different for all but the destination the same. James M. Barrie, the creator of the beloved character Peter Pan stated “Life is a long lesson in humility.” It seems odd that such a poignant maxim would come from the same pen that authored the stories about “The Boy Who Would Not Grow Up.”

Those baseball games? Turns out your team did make it through the playoffs after all. Though your world shifted on its axis, your priorities realigned and your obligations and responsibilities detonated, leaving little left that resembles your life as it once was, you still get to watch the World Series...only now you get to share it with the newest member of your own team. Identity embraced. ø

BuBBle Bath BondingA warm bubble bath with your toddler

at the end of a long day at the office, and on the playground,

should be a relaxing and intimate bonding experience.

Easing into the warm water my muscles loosen, giving in to the muses of the bath, as the fragrant bubbles soothe my skin and the aromatherapy draws me deeper into a state of calm. Gazing at my little boy across the peaceful pond I see my profound, almost dreamy relaxation reflected and mirrored in his innocent face.

As I admire the serenity of the scene I quickly realize the contradiction I’m witnessing in my son. Serenity? Calm? I

don’t think so. “What did you do?” I ask with already knowing suspicion mounting, and with his reply my hunch is confirmed.

“Nothing.”This sure-fire admission of guilt

is enough to prompt a more direct approach and line of questioning.

“Did you go pee-pee in the bathtub?”“No.”More emphatically, “Did you?”As his smile betrays him and he

almost proudly confesses, “Yeah, I went pee-pee,” I suddenly realize I am now sitting in a makeshift toilet. So much for relaxing. I rush to get him out of his “mess” as quickly as possible while fumbling under the bubbles to drain the water, all

the while sacrificing myself to save the child. His joyous laughter does little to suave my frustration, but it does however provide another way to look at the situation. The glass, or tub, is half full. If for some cosmic reason I did not deserve such a tranquil experience earlier, I certainly do now.

Rinsing out the bathtub and forcing the now yellow bubbles down the drain, I resolve to try again.

I tell him, “go use the bathroom.”“But, I don’t have to go now.”No kidding, good point. As the water

levels rise, the bubbles lather, and we again attempt a relaxing bath all I can think is, “Calgon, take me away...” ø

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observations

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foreverCOOL...

Cool never goes out of style . From time to time fashion relinquishes upon us such standards that cannot always

be sustained, though to no fault of its own. What may be seen to have gone “out of style” might only be victim to a society or culture that no longer deserves to enjoy its presence . The fifties and early sixties had a coolness so palpable it defined an era long since lost in obscurity and only now becoming visible once again. From the notorious gangsters of Chicago and the crooners of the Rat Pack to Johnny Depp

and Kid Rock, a gentleman’s hat is once again making a statement…Forever cool, Forever young.

In the first half of the 20th Century perhaps no other item so influenced and indicated a man’s social status in society more than the hat, and the fedora was amongst those favored by the elect. Usually made of felt or straw, the fedora is a soft, shapeable, rimmed hat with a pinched crown. The ability to personalize it by molding, bending and creasing the front, back and sides contributes to the

appealing nature of the hat.Yes, even our children are being

introduced to this classic couture, although they probably know little of its history, nor care. Parents perhaps are more fond of the hats practical utility rather than its stylish implications. Hats keep your youngster’s head warm in the winter, cool in the summer and protect from those ever-present and often-warned against harmful UV rays. Having digressed, let’s get real; the hat is a fashion statement . The kids know it; the parents know it; and major

retailers know it. It sends a message and identifies a child as an individual unafraid to express themselves, confident in who they are, and, in some cases, a provocateur of style. This revelation and realization is most likely lost on adolescence but nevertheless is a vital component of their self awareness. Children experiment with style in an effort to define themselves and punctuate their place in the world. Good for them. Keep your head up and your hat on.

Many personalities who have donned such a hat owe, at least in part, some

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haute style

of their celebrity to this unassuming accessory. Where would Indiana Jones be without his well-worn and weathered bonnet? Casablanca would not have been the same were it not for Bogart’s uncredited co-star. Bond, James Bond, as portrayed by Sean Connery and Roger Moore surely would not have been as charming and debonair. Even legends from the gridiron would be unrecognizable without their tops – think Vince Lombardi, Bear Bryant and Tom Landry. Dean Martin and the Chairman himself, Frank Sinatra

may very well be the poster boys of this fashion icon. As Frank once said, “Cock your hat – angles are attitudes.”

As is often lost in today’s culture, courtesy and etiquette play a role, or certainly should, in this couture come-back. Yesteryear’s gentleman knew the rules and played by them, and were it so today society might smile a little more. Removing your hat indoors, during the National Anthem and Pledge of Allegiance, or in the presence of a lady are but some of the more casual protocols. It may

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The fifties and early sixties had a coolness so palpable it defined an era long since lost in obscurity

and only now becoming visible once again.

foreverCOOL...

The term “Mad Hatter” has its roots in history. Hatters, back in the day, would be subject to toxic fumes from the mercury used in producing the felt used in the hat-making process. The hatters would often display fits of violent shakes and acts of derangement prompting ridicule and accusations of drunkenness from those who did not know it was a brain disorder. It is safe to say mercury is no longer used in the hat-making process.

behoove parents to pass on this mission of manners to their kids, instilling in them respect, discipline and virtues. Older generations still practice this lost art of respect . One champion for the cause even offers up some valuable advice for the attentive ear. “Always tip your hat…just don’t do it to men.” In fact in the old cowboy movies with heroes like Tom Mix, to do so is a way of insulting a man. “It’s akin to calling them a woman.”

In its current reincarnation the fedora is less a symbol of status and more a tool for self expression. The younger emissaries embody the core of this trend in all that they do. The fedora serves a new master and though it may have lost its accompanying suit and tie in favor of t-shirts and boardshorts, it has unequivocally retained its charm and appeal. While still able to complete the most high fashion ensemble, it is just at home atop a mane of saltwater-soaked surf hair or even adorning the heads of the fashion-forward female. With major brands such as Quiksilver, Billabong, Nixon and Mossimo all producing their interpretations of this classic, it is sure to be around as long as society remains deserving. ø

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no.38

haute style

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PB&JThe red, white & blue of

Parents, stand and pledgeallegianceto a bit ofAmericana...The sandwich of our childhood,our historyand our veryFREEDOM.

Dawn breaks and the sun bursts forth over the horizon and through the kitchen window in front of which you

stand pondering. The basking warmth of the rays, though welcomed, only serve to illuminate your near daily dilemma as you stare at your relentless foe, challenging you with a daunting task. The foe? Lunch Box. Task? Fill it. As you once again rise to this trial, and hesitantly, but hopefully, stock this vessel and consign it to your child, you feel a sense of reprieve if not accomplishment. That is until, hours later, the hiss from the “yellow troop transport’s” air brakes alerts you to the incoming casualties from lunch. Peering down at the returned receptacle much like a field surgeon at the front lines, you are not optimistic about what you will find when you open up your patient. Time and time again you find that the new recruits to the lunch regimen didn’t even make it out of the trench. Reflecting, you realize that maybe the new recipe for gourmet goulash or epicurean etoufee just weren’t ready for the war. Sometimes it is better to stick with the tried and true, the good old battle-tested PB&J of the red, white and blue.

The peanut butter and jelly sandwich is a sentinel and bastion of Americana. This patriotic icon joins the ranks of cowboys and indians, apple pie, the 7th-inning stretch, Superman, Lassie and Johnny Cash. It would be hard to imagine not having at least tried such a sandwich let alone grown up without it. As with much of our freedoms and liberties, we owe this PB&J privilege to our soldiers from the past. The peanut butter and jelly sandwich was invented by GI’s during World War II, cementing its place in history and Americana. Our infantry needed something to sustain them in the trenches and on the lines; something that would not spoil or require refrigeration; something

malleable and easy to pack; something nutritious as well as tasty. The simple non-perishable ingredients serve to make this an ideal meal to carry into war, school, or the office. March with confidence in the footsteps of those who came before us and equip your troops with that which carries with it the responsibility and burden to support our youth as they seek to secure the very freedom and rights we wake up to everyday.

“Ohhh, say can you seeeee...”The PB&J sandwich is an inalienable

right, “for the people, by the people,” and should not be subject to the profit mongering of corporate giants. To the companies that would seek to strip us of what is rightfully ours, by mass producing, patenting, and packaging this bit of Americana. . .Take notice. We are taking back what is ours.

Smuckers’ Uncrustables, the “Sealed Crustless Sandwich” is a popular item in lunch boxes and brown paper bags across America today. Though it is a novel idea and a convenient go-to, why not save money and have fun creating this delectable delight with your kids at home? Accomplishing this does not require a big budget R & D department, or scientists on staff, but rather nothing more than the very ingredients needed to make the sandwich in the first place. ø

Uncrustables 101• Make peanut butter and jelly sandwich• Take lid off peanut butter jar and center on sandwich.• Apply firm pressure on the lid down onto sandwich until through, then twist.

Special Note• The average American eats 1500 PB&J’s by the time they graduate high-school.

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mealtime

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There are many places off limits to kids; places where they are prohibited, restricted or banned

from; places like nightclubs, Mary Kay parties, the middle of the street, the teachers lounge and of course, Dad’s workshop (a.k.a the garage). It’s not that they are not wanted amidst the tools, debris and detritus, it is rather they should not venture there unattended. That seemingly cluttered, discombobulated and neglected corner of the family’s carriage house is but a ruse to deter any trespass. This jumbled mess is carefully planned, everything in its place and properly cared for, challenging even the most thoroughly cataloged inventory in the Library of Congress. This muddle of masculine pride may contain various degrees of “do-it-yourself” apparatuses and discarded material that will “someday” shine, but also holds many components to be put to use with imagination in the clever mind of a child.

As a child this “Keep Out” corner of the garage was more like Alice’s rabbit hole, down which all matter of amazement and wonder could be discovered, if not made. The odds & ends in the hardware drawer, box or can, often found capably organized and stored beneath a dust covered drop cloth, knotted extension cord and a half-inflated pool toy, could be assembled and fabricated into the stuff of dreams. What dad overlooked as broken or “of no use” might be a door to a castle, the mast on a Spanish galleon, a launch pad for the next lunar mission, nunchucks to battle side-by-side with Bruce Lee, or even a flower box for mom on her birthday. Sometimes it takes a viewfinder like a child’s eye to see the potential in something and a parents knowledge to bring it to life.

My father was often at work on one project or another, be it of practical

purpose or creative craft. I can remember being in awe over the mysterious measurements marked out on a piece of wood as if they were a foreign code, or intimidated by the whirrrr and buzzzz of the power tools, and even baffled when that raw timber actually transformed into a cutting board, parrot puzzle or the bust of Superman. Learning the specifics of navigating through the sawdust, splinters, stains and supplies took diligence and humility as I was often in the way and always, “standing right in the light!” according to my dad. I have come to learn that his potentially perceived lack of patience was actually an abundance of patience that had been tried to the limits. The opportunity to steer your child through a “rite of passage” is awesome in responsibility and a true joy to be experienced. I know my dad loved every “Can I do that ?” and “I want to push the button,” as well as every “Was I supposed to cut that ? ” and “Uh-oh ” that I innocently asked and exclaimed. Thank you Dad.

Terms like washers, lock-nuts, vice-grips, grommets, channel-locks, mitre saws, sockets, lag screws, levels, mallets, clamps, and routers probably do not mean much to those outside the hallowed halls of the workshop, but to me, they were the dialect of my adolescence and the language in which my father and I spoke, and still do.

As I find myself with my son adrift in the same waters my father captained me through, I draw upon not only the knowledge and experience he imparted to me, but also how he did so. Encouragement, correction, discipline and patience (though not always obvious) are the tools I look to use in this wonder workshop on a most important project. . . my own son. ø

A boy is a magical creature – you can lock him out of the workshop, but you can’t lock

him out of your heart.• Allen Beck •

the workshop

no.42

flashback

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The home improvement revolution is upon us, and the palette has never been so full. Paint centers

in local home improvement stores are occupying more and more square footage, inviting more and more budding artists from all walks of life. It is not just the hardened professional in paint spattered white coveralls roaming the aisles anymore, but rather a mix of blue collars, trendy urbanites, country crafters, college students, parents, grandparents and even the creative youngster. This trend has not gone unnoticed by major players leaping to this cross-over industry. Ralph Lauren, Laura Ashley and Eddie Bauer have all seen their stylized palettes flow from their clothing lines onto walls everywhere. The market savvy Disney and Nickelodean swatch displays are designed to catch the eye of the child riding high in the shopping carts provoking them to plead for the colors of their favorite cartoon to adorn their bedroom walls.

Painting can be as simple as applying enough coats to cover a feature wall or as daring as delving into two-tone effects or faux finishes. Either way, to do it right, you will need to mask those areas that

are not to be painted, and that requires cutting through all the blue tape. Blue is more of a generic term much like duct or masking when used in conjunction with tape. Its purpose is to provide a barrier with low tack, protecting the underlying surface from an unwanted color. At least this is how it is advertised. Achieving this unmolested goal is another matter altogether. A clean, straight edge is the holy grail of painting. It can often be the difference between a quality paint job and a nice try. Blue tape is supposed to deliver the desired effect, but even on surfaces as smooth as glass this can be a trying experience. Never fear, there is a solution.

There is a secret to using blue tape, and although it requires some extra steps and time, it is well worth the effort put forth. Identifying the problem helps to better understand the solution. Blue

tape is only as effective as the seal it obtains against the surface it is applied to. Today’s walls often have special textures creating a more elegant and custom feel, but this does not come without some inherent problems. Texture often results in random elevations or bumps on the surface creating peaks and valleys. Blue tape often has difficulty forming itself to these surface variations. The usual solution is to run a finger over the seam with firm pressure, providing one with the false assumption their efforts have not been in vain. Though this finger pushing may have helped, it probably will not produce the desired results. This is the problem. Paint will find its way under the blue tape where the valleys occur, ensuring a let down when the mask is removed. The solution is to fill these valleys. Filling does not mean altering the wall texture with spackle or plaster, but rather using the very thing that causes the problem in the first place; Paint.

Achieving that clean line is as simple as filling the valleys with a paint color that matches the underlying surface. It’s as easy as that.

A child’s room is where their imagination thrives and flourishes amid their exploration for self expression. Creating a space that is uniquely their own encourages them to define themselves...

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instructions

This fills the valleys and seals the tape creating an impenetrable seam. B. Once it is dry, paint as usual.

Your professional looking paint job is not yet guaranteed. There is more work

A.

Here is how you do it. Mask the room as required, even use that firm pressure of the finger along the seam of the tape. This time though, there is another step. A. With a small hobby or sponge brush, and using paint that matches the color that is under the blue tape, stroke along the seam, being sure to overlap the tape. If the wall, baseboard, door or windowsill you are masking is white, then use that exact color with this technique. If the color is green, use green, and so on.

B.

to be done. After applying the appropriate number of coats of the new paint color, allow it to cure and become dry to the touch. C. It is important to remove the blue tape at this point so it does not

C.

become part of the wall as far as the paint is concerned. When removing the tape, demonstrate patience. A rule of thumb is to always pull down, away and close to the wall. Keep your hand almost against the wall when removing the tape. This decreases the pressure on the seam of the paint and allows the tape to release without affecting the line. There may be a few trouble spots, mainly in corners, where some touch-up may be necessary, but this is easily remedied with a small brush and a steady hand.

A quality paint job is much more than using premium paint and applying two coats, though both are recommended. It is about effort and patience. The response you should be looking for from the ever-present critics is not nice try but great job!

Don’t let the blue tape become the red tape in achieving a quality paint job. Always remember, it is only paint. ø

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no.48

family pet

Were it so that ever there was a dog that more fittingly represented its country of origin

more than the Irish Terrier, it would certainly be called to question and its proof forever scrutinized . This gruff daredevil exhibits so boldly the very traits that have characterized Ireland for centuries, and, as its human counterparts, makes no apologies. Thought to be one of, if not the oldest terrier breeds, George R. Kreuhl in The Illustrated Book of the Dog (1881), stubbornly proclaims “the Irish Terrier is a true and distinct breed to Ireland and no man can trace its origin which is lost in antiguity.” And that’s that.

Hailing from Country Cork, Ireland over two thousand years ago, this bold breed burst forth and has yet to break stride. Naturally the Irish Terrier is a feisty hunter and “ratter” as well as an excellent retriever. Their conditioned athleticism and eagerness to please make these canines fine companions on the farm, range or in the field. As a

retriever, their rough “waterproof” coat, webbed feet and soft mouth are ideal. Their love of water makes them hard to beat as a game dog. William Graham, an early and prominent breeder, stated “that the only reason they were not itemized in Noah’s list of the cargo of the Ark was that it was quite unnecessary to take a pair of Irish Terriers aboard. They could swim alongside so well.” Perhaps the most endearing of all the breed’s

qualities is its unflinching and steadfast will to protect his family and home from all that threatens. He is often seen as a daredevil for his utter contempt for danger and his own well-being. His intelligence, athletic prowess and devotion enable him as an exceptional guard dog and protector. An old Irish writer described the breed as the “poor man’s sentinel, the farmer’s friend, and the gentleman’s favorite.” The Irish Terrier is gentle with and tolerant of children, ever playful and good tempered. To those he loves there is no other companion so completely devoted, absolutely loyal, lovingly affectionate, fiercely protective, tender and forebearing as the Irish Terrier. Enough said.

This medium sized breed is suitable for all families and adapts well to most environments. Growing to about 18” tall and 25 to 27 lbs, he is of manageable stature while still possessing the ability to serve and protect. Content ranging the estate grounds or cuddled in a city

apartment, he is happy and hangs his hat where his family calls home. The brilliant red coat is wiry and sheds less than most other breeds. The bushy eyebrows and bearded muzzle are hallmarks of the Irish Terrier, contributing to his sophisticated, dignified, wise and intelligent appearance. The Irish has melded together qualities that appeal to the most particular of masters, ensuring his place in their world by

fulfilling their needs.The breed has not been overlooked

in history or popular society. Serving in World War I as a messenger dog, gave the Irish cause to demonstrate the heroics and bravery that he is so blessed with. These standards may very well be the reason the Irish Terrier was a long time mascot of the Notre Dame Football team, although, to be fair, it may have been due to their playful nature, making them a halftime crowd pleaser. Jack London wrote of a canine adventure in Jerry of the Islands, where a seaworthy Irish Terrier is beached on a cannibal inhabited island. London long fought against the critics who labeled his accounts as false, insisting the dog, the adventure and the cannibals were all very real. Drawing on yet another feature of this beloved breed Disney

The Irish Terrier is gentle with and tolerant of children, ever playful and good tempered.

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chose the Irish for his male lead in Lady and the Tramp, and though originally cast in a red coat, was later changed to grey, to perhaps emphasize Tramp’s humble street life. Recently featured in the cinematic release of Firehouse Dog, from 20th Century Fox, the breeds heroics and antics are on display for all to see and enjoy.

The Irish Terrier is as fiery as his coat in both appearance and personality. His adventurous spirit, daredevil attitude, playful nature and unwavering loyalty makes this breed stand out among its peers. Though often reckless in its determined attempts to please, the Irish Terrier can also be a warm companion who lies cuddled at your feet in front of the fireplace, calm and relaxed, but ever on guard and alert. ø

As our population explosion works to fill our planet at a frenetic pace like a Vegas Hotel on New Years Eve,

and technology works to make our world smaller and smaller, drawing us ever closer and closer, there is a compelling urge sometimes to stand up and shout “I’m Here!” The need to differentiate and express oneself has never been more relevant and imperative, perhaps even essential. Competition in school, college, the job market and even social acceptance is continually heating up, as more and more of us vie for the same, often limited, openings and opportunities. The sheer number of candidates for everything from scholarships and promotions to membership and invites often diminishes our presence to a spot on a waiting list, a resume in the pile, or just a name on an application. Since the first, and most often only

impression one gets to make begins and ends with a name, it better be a darn good name.

There is nothing wrong with common, traditional names and there certainly should not be any bias either for or against such familiar monikers. The question is not what “should matter” but more, what “does matter.” A case in point might be the creative presentation of a resume garnering an interview over, let’s say, a more qualified applicant whose resume did little to justify a second glance. Right or wrong, it could make all the difference in the world. Equipping ourselves, and more importantly, our children with every means for success is becoming increasingly more of a priority.

What’s in a name? A child’s name is often a result of honoring a family member or tradition; it may be given for a historical person or celebrity; perhaps for a place; it

may be deep with meaning; maybe even a special memory shared between the parents. Some Native American Indians named their children after the first thing the father saw when emerging from the tent after the birth. Rather than naming your child “Nurse in Scrubs,” “Rushing Doctor,” or “Speeding Red Ford” (depending on where the child was born), why not be kind to your baby and put some thought into their legacy.

Your child is special, unique and individual. If there is not some compelling family convention to the naming of your baby why not step out on a limb and get creative. There is no right or wrong in naming a child, no dos or don’ts, no complicated formulas or astronomical alignments to follow, just a parent’s love. This will be the name you hear when your parents tearfully see the baby for the first time; when family and friends sing Happy

Birthday to a smiling toddler; when the announcer broadcasts “the next batter up is…;” when she is introduced for her first ballet recital; when he or she proudly receives their high school diploma, and later college; when the pastor presents the newly married couple; and this will be the name you ask for at the maternity ward when you go to tearfully see your grandchild for the first time. No pressure, it’s just a name. Right?

Ideas for names can come from almost anywhere, inspired from almost anything. Observing names that others have given their offspring may give you insight into thinking outside the box, or maybe even provide the perfect title for your newborn. Finding your own inspiration is personal and special in that your child and you will live with the sound of this decision for the rest of your lives. What’s in a name? That is up to you… ø

What’s in a ’s name?

no.50

coming soon

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