'Vehicle' by Ides of March is an amazing song. That beat is incredible and you just want to sing along. The other day as I was listening to the lyrics I was a little shocked.
"Hey, well, I'm the friendly stranger in the black sedan,
Won't you hop inside my car?
I got pictures, got candy,
I'm a lovable man, and I can take you to the nearest star.
...
That I love you. I need you.
I want you, got to have you child. Great God in Heaven , you know I love you."
Let's start at the beginning. He's a friendly stranger going up to you on the street asking you to jump into his car, and he's got pictures. I can't help but wonder what sort of pictures these are. But they must be very impressive. For example, no one has ever enticed me to do anything by saying, "Hey, how about coming over here and saying 'Hello'". "Ummm, no thanks I'm fine." "I've got some nice pictures to show you." "Oh well in that case, yes, please let me in." And he's got candy too. That should be enough. But apparently not, some people won't be lured by candy, but they just can't resist the temptation of pictures.
Next. He's a lovable man. Oh my. I just can't imagine this sort of pick up line working for me. "Hi, I'm friendly." "Go away." "But I have pictures and candy to share. And I'm lovable." Okay, that's sort of cute. But let's keep going.
"Got to have you child." Oh my. Maybe with people his own age this would be fine, but he's singing to children!
I've always wondered why this doesn't get more air time on the radio. And now I think I know.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Bewildering Children
The other day Mom called me out of the blue. She had an “important message” for me. Growing up I had a few Mercer Mayer books. They are children’s picture books with short stories revolving around these little critters. The stories are cute and I liked looking at the pictures because there was usually a spider or mouse somewhere on the page that was fun to find. Those little touches really make books worth opening. The prime example of this is the classic “Eleventh Hour” by Graeme Base. If you have never had the joyful experience this book provides, stop reading this and go pick it up immediately. Then come back and finish this.
Mom called telling me about one particular scene in the Critter books. The scene is in the grocery store. Momma steps away for a moment with the baby critter, maybe to change a diaper or something, and the little brother and sister wander to the candy aisle. When Momma finds them, the little girl says she wants candy. “You can have candy tomorrow but not today.” “But I want candy now.” “You want a time out now?” “No time out.” That is how the, at least of 2006, revised edition of the book goes. Mom noticed this change. When I was a child it went like this, after the little girl back talked, “You want a spanking?” “No spanking.”
I am not a parent. So at first I may seem grossly inexperienced to comment on parenting. But the way I see it, other than age, there are pretty much no qualifications or experience necessary to become a parent, so my opinion is just as good as any. If you feel there is a hole in this line of thinking, then let me point out that I am sensational, so you need no other reason than that to read on.
I actually have no idea how I will raise my children. For a long time, a hands on approach seemed to be the way to go. Nowadays, it seems to be frowned upon more so than it used to be. But it’s not so much the approach that I think is important as it is where the approach is coming from. Maybe the approach is based on anger, frustration, or even joy and happiness. After all just as one may overly discipline a child, that child could be overly rewarded. I think the approach used must come from one based entirely out of love for the child. How we feel at that particular moment with the child is irrelevant. This is important because this culture of ours has us make essentially every decision and life choice out of how we feel about it rather than based on any morality or objectiveness. That means that if the child messes up on Tuesday, he might receive a different punishment than if he messed up on Wednesday, for no other reason than because his parent was more irritated on Wednesday. And that is inconsistent parenting. Punishments and rewards should be consistent and have to based upon so many different case by cases that adding in something as variable as our emotion is unfair to the child.
All of this got me thinking about other parenting issues. Like setting examples, and what makes for a good parent. The following example is meant to sound practical, I have no idea if it actually has occurred, but it seems plausible enough. Think of the smoking Dad (just thought I’d point out that my Dad doesn’t smoke) who tells his children not to smoke. I can understand the reasoning behind this. He doesn’t want his children to make his same mistakes and become addicted like he is. But what bothers me is if that Dad doesn’t do everything he can to stop smoking. That sets a bad example. I believe children learn more from the example of our behavior than by our words. That means if our actions contradict our speech, then the children are going to side with our actions and not the words. So it isn't enough to simply tell children not to smoke. The smoker must actually try not to smoke. At least I find fighting that temptation would be better than for him to essentially say to his own children, “I am a weakling who has become complacent to my bonds.” What a defeatist attitude to portray to our young ones. Okay fine. You’re weak and have no desire to change yourself. It’s not the weak part that angers me but the lack of any desire to put up a fight. I can get behind someone who constantly strives to be better even if he constantly falls. Maybe the smoker never can get over it, but at least he kept trying. That’s all anyone can ask. If you are addicted to something to the point where you feel you cannot do without it then you are a slave and should fight those bonds. Now years later that parent’s addiction causes him to suffer from severe health. Now he is ready to put up that fight. This is disgusting. He wasn’t willing to fight to set a good example for his children, but now that his personal health is endanger, now he is willing to fight. He just put a higher value on his own health than on his children’s upbringing. He cared nothing for setting a good example, but cared everything for saving his own life. The child should be more important. The love for his children should compel him to fight to stop smoking so that he can ensure he can be in the best of health which will help him be able to provide for all of his children’s needs.
Then there’s the lighter form of inconsistent parenting. Such as making chicken soup. My Mom actually had a light argument with me when I told her how I was going to make it for Sarah when she was sick. The thing was that I was going to make it exactly how Mom made it for me all my life. But she said she wouldn’t make it that way for anyone other than me and my sister. See when Mom makes it for us, she doesn't change out the vegetables. So when she cooks those carrots and celery she doesn't throw them out and add new ones once it's done. She says that when I make it for others I need to cook it with carrots and celery and onion, and when it's done I need to throw those out and add fresh vegetables. For example, she likes to add those frozen waffle cut carrots. But she never in all my life made it that way for us kids. And that’s inconsistent parenting. I can’t make a proper bowl of chicken soup because my Mom wasn’t consistent with my upbringing on this subject area. Nevertheless I can't feel too slighted by Mom, afterall my Mom's chicken soup, as she prepares it for me, is the best chicken soup in the world. Even without waffle cut carrots.
I have no idea how I’m going to raise my children. I can’t even manage to get a girlfriend. My feeling is that proper parenting can only come from love for the children. Proper parenting can never come from that day’s ups or downs. But that makes it more objective, and that runs counter to how our current culture believes we should live our lives. So I guess being a parent isn’t exactly an easy undertaking. The level of self-denial required is pretty much beyond my comprehension, but hopefully so is the love that comes with having a child. And at that I have no experience.
Mom called telling me about one particular scene in the Critter books. The scene is in the grocery store. Momma steps away for a moment with the baby critter, maybe to change a diaper or something, and the little brother and sister wander to the candy aisle. When Momma finds them, the little girl says she wants candy. “You can have candy tomorrow but not today.” “But I want candy now.” “You want a time out now?” “No time out.” That is how the, at least of 2006, revised edition of the book goes. Mom noticed this change. When I was a child it went like this, after the little girl back talked, “You want a spanking?” “No spanking.”
I am not a parent. So at first I may seem grossly inexperienced to comment on parenting. But the way I see it, other than age, there are pretty much no qualifications or experience necessary to become a parent, so my opinion is just as good as any. If you feel there is a hole in this line of thinking, then let me point out that I am sensational, so you need no other reason than that to read on.
I actually have no idea how I will raise my children. For a long time, a hands on approach seemed to be the way to go. Nowadays, it seems to be frowned upon more so than it used to be. But it’s not so much the approach that I think is important as it is where the approach is coming from. Maybe the approach is based on anger, frustration, or even joy and happiness. After all just as one may overly discipline a child, that child could be overly rewarded. I think the approach used must come from one based entirely out of love for the child. How we feel at that particular moment with the child is irrelevant. This is important because this culture of ours has us make essentially every decision and life choice out of how we feel about it rather than based on any morality or objectiveness. That means that if the child messes up on Tuesday, he might receive a different punishment than if he messed up on Wednesday, for no other reason than because his parent was more irritated on Wednesday. And that is inconsistent parenting. Punishments and rewards should be consistent and have to based upon so many different case by cases that adding in something as variable as our emotion is unfair to the child.
All of this got me thinking about other parenting issues. Like setting examples, and what makes for a good parent. The following example is meant to sound practical, I have no idea if it actually has occurred, but it seems plausible enough. Think of the smoking Dad (just thought I’d point out that my Dad doesn’t smoke) who tells his children not to smoke. I can understand the reasoning behind this. He doesn’t want his children to make his same mistakes and become addicted like he is. But what bothers me is if that Dad doesn’t do everything he can to stop smoking. That sets a bad example. I believe children learn more from the example of our behavior than by our words. That means if our actions contradict our speech, then the children are going to side with our actions and not the words. So it isn't enough to simply tell children not to smoke. The smoker must actually try not to smoke. At least I find fighting that temptation would be better than for him to essentially say to his own children, “I am a weakling who has become complacent to my bonds.” What a defeatist attitude to portray to our young ones. Okay fine. You’re weak and have no desire to change yourself. It’s not the weak part that angers me but the lack of any desire to put up a fight. I can get behind someone who constantly strives to be better even if he constantly falls. Maybe the smoker never can get over it, but at least he kept trying. That’s all anyone can ask. If you are addicted to something to the point where you feel you cannot do without it then you are a slave and should fight those bonds. Now years later that parent’s addiction causes him to suffer from severe health. Now he is ready to put up that fight. This is disgusting. He wasn’t willing to fight to set a good example for his children, but now that his personal health is endanger, now he is willing to fight. He just put a higher value on his own health than on his children’s upbringing. He cared nothing for setting a good example, but cared everything for saving his own life. The child should be more important. The love for his children should compel him to fight to stop smoking so that he can ensure he can be in the best of health which will help him be able to provide for all of his children’s needs.
Then there’s the lighter form of inconsistent parenting. Such as making chicken soup. My Mom actually had a light argument with me when I told her how I was going to make it for Sarah when she was sick. The thing was that I was going to make it exactly how Mom made it for me all my life. But she said she wouldn’t make it that way for anyone other than me and my sister. See when Mom makes it for us, she doesn't change out the vegetables. So when she cooks those carrots and celery she doesn't throw them out and add new ones once it's done. She says that when I make it for others I need to cook it with carrots and celery and onion, and when it's done I need to throw those out and add fresh vegetables. For example, she likes to add those frozen waffle cut carrots. But she never in all my life made it that way for us kids. And that’s inconsistent parenting. I can’t make a proper bowl of chicken soup because my Mom wasn’t consistent with my upbringing on this subject area. Nevertheless I can't feel too slighted by Mom, afterall my Mom's chicken soup, as she prepares it for me, is the best chicken soup in the world. Even without waffle cut carrots.
I have no idea how I’m going to raise my children. I can’t even manage to get a girlfriend. My feeling is that proper parenting can only come from love for the children. Proper parenting can never come from that day’s ups or downs. But that makes it more objective, and that runs counter to how our current culture believes we should live our lives. So I guess being a parent isn’t exactly an easy undertaking. The level of self-denial required is pretty much beyond my comprehension, but hopefully so is the love that comes with having a child. And at that I have no experience.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Backwards
After dinner out tonight, I drove by a man walking to only he knows where with his thumb out. He was scraggly with dirty clothes. I thought about picking him up, but the problem was I wasn't familiar with the area, and I didn't want him to know that. Nevertheless I was a little displeased that here was a clear opportunity to help someone and I was purposely passing it up. While he was scraggly I find it's not the ones who approach you frowning who take your money but the ones who approach you smiling. And it didn't help that just prior to this at dinner I had another swell opportunity for interaction.
See at dinner, at a burger joint, as I was getting ready to go, a girl walked by who sat down at a table by herself. This was the type of girl guys are warned about looking at in magazines or movies because we're told they don't exist in real life and we're going to start expecting a fantasy. My mind raced with what to say to her. I decided that being right next to an amazing ice-cream stand, that I should ask her out for ice-cream when she finished dinner. I also thought about just introducing myself and asking her if I could join her to chat. But in the end I didn't ask her anything and simply left. Of course as soon as I walked out the door I thought about walking right back in, but decided that might be creepy. So I thought it would be less creepy to sit near by on a post, partially hidden from the door and when she left I could get up really quick and pretend I just happened to be walking by. And I did that. But after a few minutes of that I decided I should just get on and I left. Nevertheless it made me think about what would have happened it just prior to dinner I hadn't gotten myself into a very long talking to.
I was walking through the streets of Dayton trying to find the burger joint I was looking to eat dinner at, when I happened upon two guys walking in my direction. I asked them if they knew where it was at and they said I passed it up. So I turned around and walked with them. At this point one of them asked if I could now do him a favor. Not liking this I said yes and he asked if I believed in second chances. Very much not liking this I said yes. And then they proceeded to tell me about how they were trying to get their acts together by working good jobs and earning money to go to college and improve their lives. They said they could not accept donations but were wondering if I could buy a magazine from them. They are part of a group that apparently awards them for selling magazines. Apparently the proof they need that they can interact well with people, and thereby get more help from the organization, is by selling magazines to people they encounter. I can't remember the name of the organization they were representing, but they said it was like Big Brother or Sister except for older people. One of the guys gave me his list of magazines, which even if I didn't want I could donate to, and I looked at it, but wasn't about to buy anything. For one I had no cash on me, and I wasn't giving a stranger my credit card information. For another I don't like charming strangers who are seeking something from me. They are off putting reminding me of that smiling thief I just mentioned. And I didn't like that I couldn't simply go to their website and make a donation in their name if I was interested. But even though they handed me the list they didn't actually ask if I wanted to buy one. In fact after a few minutes the guy who handed the list to me asked for it back.
For most of this time we were standing at the corner where I needed to cross the street to go to the burger joint. And at this corner was a bench where an older lady were sitting and listening to us. Towards the end she started talking. One of the guy's started sharing his back story which was very sad but a little over the top. For example his 15 year brother was just arrested for 15 years for dealing heroin. There are so many problems with this claim that even if true it is just too horrible to believe by a complete stranger. And he himself had a checkered past but was trying hard to ammend his ways. Hence his question about second chances. And the lady sitting nearby wanted to talk about her Uncle who while in prison earned his high school dipolma and wrote a book. But despite his attempts at ammending his life he suffered from a heart attack and died while still in prison. But she was very proud he was able to write a book that you can get at any library. I can't remember his name but it went something like Marvin Fuenke.
While I was happy that I did not actually have to say "no I do not wish to purchase a magazine", I was getting frustrated about my inability to say anything other than yes or no. Notice above where I said I was talked to. I was simply unable to get in any words in edge wise. When I tried everyone just talked over me. Maybe these three just really needed to talk but it wasn't a conversation. Like this blog, but going by my lack of comments in most posts, it's clear there is little to add to anything I say. Whereas these three had all sorts of things that could be added. But finally they talked themselves out and needed to move on with their day and gave me their farewells.
At the end it was just me and the lady sitting on the bench. She wanted to talk about how after listening to those guys she was happy they were trying to get their lives in order and make a positive difference. And she talked more about her Uncle and how happy she was that he wrote a book. And that she wished more people would take the time like I did to just listen to others. That she didn't know anything about those guys and neither did I, but that I took the three minutes out of my day to listen to them. And that more people need to take just a few minutes to listen to others. And that God will always listen, and no matter how busy we are He will listen. And that everyone can turn their lives around, like her Uncle, no matter what situation they are in, and make a difference. Even if they are in prison. And hopefully those boys will hold onto their hope and they will stay strong and continue making positive changes in their lives despite all the previous mistakes they made. But eventually even she winded down and I got to speak. And I said, "every Saint has a past, and every sinner has a future" (thank you Oscar Wilde), and then, much delayed, crossed the street to the burger joint for dinner.
See at dinner, at a burger joint, as I was getting ready to go, a girl walked by who sat down at a table by herself. This was the type of girl guys are warned about looking at in magazines or movies because we're told they don't exist in real life and we're going to start expecting a fantasy. My mind raced with what to say to her. I decided that being right next to an amazing ice-cream stand, that I should ask her out for ice-cream when she finished dinner. I also thought about just introducing myself and asking her if I could join her to chat. But in the end I didn't ask her anything and simply left. Of course as soon as I walked out the door I thought about walking right back in, but decided that might be creepy. So I thought it would be less creepy to sit near by on a post, partially hidden from the door and when she left I could get up really quick and pretend I just happened to be walking by. And I did that. But after a few minutes of that I decided I should just get on and I left. Nevertheless it made me think about what would have happened it just prior to dinner I hadn't gotten myself into a very long talking to.
I was walking through the streets of Dayton trying to find the burger joint I was looking to eat dinner at, when I happened upon two guys walking in my direction. I asked them if they knew where it was at and they said I passed it up. So I turned around and walked with them. At this point one of them asked if I could now do him a favor. Not liking this I said yes and he asked if I believed in second chances. Very much not liking this I said yes. And then they proceeded to tell me about how they were trying to get their acts together by working good jobs and earning money to go to college and improve their lives. They said they could not accept donations but were wondering if I could buy a magazine from them. They are part of a group that apparently awards them for selling magazines. Apparently the proof they need that they can interact well with people, and thereby get more help from the organization, is by selling magazines to people they encounter. I can't remember the name of the organization they were representing, but they said it was like Big Brother or Sister except for older people. One of the guys gave me his list of magazines, which even if I didn't want I could donate to, and I looked at it, but wasn't about to buy anything. For one I had no cash on me, and I wasn't giving a stranger my credit card information. For another I don't like charming strangers who are seeking something from me. They are off putting reminding me of that smiling thief I just mentioned. And I didn't like that I couldn't simply go to their website and make a donation in their name if I was interested. But even though they handed me the list they didn't actually ask if I wanted to buy one. In fact after a few minutes the guy who handed the list to me asked for it back.
For most of this time we were standing at the corner where I needed to cross the street to go to the burger joint. And at this corner was a bench where an older lady were sitting and listening to us. Towards the end she started talking. One of the guy's started sharing his back story which was very sad but a little over the top. For example his 15 year brother was just arrested for 15 years for dealing heroin. There are so many problems with this claim that even if true it is just too horrible to believe by a complete stranger. And he himself had a checkered past but was trying hard to ammend his ways. Hence his question about second chances. And the lady sitting nearby wanted to talk about her Uncle who while in prison earned his high school dipolma and wrote a book. But despite his attempts at ammending his life he suffered from a heart attack and died while still in prison. But she was very proud he was able to write a book that you can get at any library. I can't remember his name but it went something like Marvin Fuenke.
While I was happy that I did not actually have to say "no I do not wish to purchase a magazine", I was getting frustrated about my inability to say anything other than yes or no. Notice above where I said I was talked to. I was simply unable to get in any words in edge wise. When I tried everyone just talked over me. Maybe these three just really needed to talk but it wasn't a conversation. Like this blog, but going by my lack of comments in most posts, it's clear there is little to add to anything I say. Whereas these three had all sorts of things that could be added. But finally they talked themselves out and needed to move on with their day and gave me their farewells.
At the end it was just me and the lady sitting on the bench. She wanted to talk about how after listening to those guys she was happy they were trying to get their lives in order and make a positive difference. And she talked more about her Uncle and how happy she was that he wrote a book. And that she wished more people would take the time like I did to just listen to others. That she didn't know anything about those guys and neither did I, but that I took the three minutes out of my day to listen to them. And that more people need to take just a few minutes to listen to others. And that God will always listen, and no matter how busy we are He will listen. And that everyone can turn their lives around, like her Uncle, no matter what situation they are in, and make a difference. Even if they are in prison. And hopefully those boys will hold onto their hope and they will stay strong and continue making positive changes in their lives despite all the previous mistakes they made. But eventually even she winded down and I got to speak. And I said, "every Saint has a past, and every sinner has a future" (thank you Oscar Wilde), and then, much delayed, crossed the street to the burger joint for dinner.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
A Smattering of Color
A while back I posted a few very old family pictures that I was given at a family reunion. Interestingly, I had a cousin who I've never spoken to find those pictures through google images. What a small world. I tried to repeat her search but was unable to find the image, so I have no idea what keywords she used but I met a cousin out of it.
Those old photos are really cool. They mean more when they're your own family, but even not it's still neat to look at them and see the different styles of dress, hair cuts, and what people did for fun. I always get a kick out of seeing the men dressed impeccably. You still see girls my age out in summer dresses from time-to-time, but it's very rare to see guys dress up in suits. And if they do we think they're just putting on a show. Although, unforutnately its becoming rare to see even the girls dress up anymore. Still to be fair this was probably taken on a special occassion, like maybe on a Sunday. While men did dress up back then, it wasn't uncommon to see them in just a regular white tee-shirt tucked into their pants. Nevertheless, even that screams manly, whereas nowadays we have guys walking around in hideously ugly capris.
The problem with the photos is they're in black and white. Sure black and white photos can be really artsy, and there's nothing quite like the old black and white films. But God let us see in color, so for fun I've tried adding color to two photos.
This first one was my first attempt. It's a picture of my great Grandparents on my Mom's Dad's side.
I actually met them both. My great Grandpa died when I was still young, but I remember trying to get that cane away from him, and then getting yelled at by my parents for bothering him. I knew better though, he was purposely teasing me with that cane, and this was my Mom's Grandfather so she and probably Dad too had to behave. You know, like how us kids always tell our parents they have to be do what their parents say. It's the one time we get to see our parents be the kids. To my dissatifcation however great Grandpa never told my parents to be quiet. But he didn't stop playing with me either. Great Grandma I mostly remember being in bed. I knew her when she wasn't stuck in her bed, but she lived for a longer time than my great Grandfather and she spent a good portion of that in her bed. The story of how they met is for movies.
They were both came over to the States when they were just young teenagers, like 16. They both came alone without their family, and wound up living very close to each other and that's how they met, and eventually married and here I am today.
The next picture is one I just finished up last night. This one was particularly tedious and so I was happy to actually have started and finished this project. I'm one of those people who starts things but rarely completes them, so this was like an exercise in discipline. This one is of my Dad's Mom's siblings.
I think it was taken in the late 30s or 40s. I think the lady in the blue dress was great Aunt Ann, my partner in water balloon tosses at family reunions. I'm not sure on the others. The men are all dead now. But I think the other two ladies are still with us.
Those old photos are really cool. They mean more when they're your own family, but even not it's still neat to look at them and see the different styles of dress, hair cuts, and what people did for fun. I always get a kick out of seeing the men dressed impeccably. You still see girls my age out in summer dresses from time-to-time, but it's very rare to see guys dress up in suits. And if they do we think they're just putting on a show. Although, unforutnately its becoming rare to see even the girls dress up anymore. Still to be fair this was probably taken on a special occassion, like maybe on a Sunday. While men did dress up back then, it wasn't uncommon to see them in just a regular white tee-shirt tucked into their pants. Nevertheless, even that screams manly, whereas nowadays we have guys walking around in hideously ugly capris.
The problem with the photos is they're in black and white. Sure black and white photos can be really artsy, and there's nothing quite like the old black and white films. But God let us see in color, so for fun I've tried adding color to two photos.
This first one was my first attempt. It's a picture of my great Grandparents on my Mom's Dad's side.
I actually met them both. My great Grandpa died when I was still young, but I remember trying to get that cane away from him, and then getting yelled at by my parents for bothering him. I knew better though, he was purposely teasing me with that cane, and this was my Mom's Grandfather so she and probably Dad too had to behave. You know, like how us kids always tell our parents they have to be do what their parents say. It's the one time we get to see our parents be the kids. To my dissatifcation however great Grandpa never told my parents to be quiet. But he didn't stop playing with me either. Great Grandma I mostly remember being in bed. I knew her when she wasn't stuck in her bed, but she lived for a longer time than my great Grandfather and she spent a good portion of that in her bed. The story of how they met is for movies.
They were both came over to the States when they were just young teenagers, like 16. They both came alone without their family, and wound up living very close to each other and that's how they met, and eventually married and here I am today.
The next picture is one I just finished up last night. This one was particularly tedious and so I was happy to actually have started and finished this project. I'm one of those people who starts things but rarely completes them, so this was like an exercise in discipline. This one is of my Dad's Mom's siblings.
I think it was taken in the late 30s or 40s. I think the lady in the blue dress was great Aunt Ann, my partner in water balloon tosses at family reunions. I'm not sure on the others. The men are all dead now. But I think the other two ladies are still with us.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Plumbers on a Sunday
It's time for a tutorial on outdoor drainage systems. This weekend past I went to my sister’s to help my Dad with this outdoor drainage system he’s been installing. There’s been a lot of water entering her basement and he’s been trying to stop that from happening. When I got there I saw that he had dug out a very long trench along the side of the house and well into into her front yard. Saturday morning when we got started Dad gave me his explanation of how things were working.
Essentially he wanted to install a new drainage system for the two water spouts on the right side of the house, and a French drainage system for water that flowed down a nearby hill and might collect by the side of the house, as well as the water that just naturally falls there. At the moment he had the trench wide enough for one tube’s worth of drainage. He needed the trench wide enough for two tubes. The way the French drainage system works is that you lay a piece of fabric in the trench, then you take a PVC type pipe that has finger thick holes drilled into it like a woofle ball, and place it in the trench with the holes facing down. On top of that you put gravel, and on top of that you grow grass. When it rains the water soaks into the ground like it normally would, but as it collects it starts to rise up into the holes and when enough is collected it travels down the PVC pipe and away from the house. The spout drainage system originally went into large copper pipes that went very deep into the ground and went somewhere. We don’t know where the copper pipes lead because they go down so deep. The problem is that over the years the copper can crack and when that happens the water can leak out and start causing problems. Dad thought maybe the copper pipes had cracked somewhere along the basement wall and was causing water to leak into the house.
So when I got there he had an initial one tube wide trench dug. That in itself was quite a feat. It was a long trench and had to be back breaking work. Right away I, who always try to avoid demanding labor, convinced him that we didn’t need to double the size of the entire trench. Rather once we got past the side of the house and into the front yard where leakage wasn’t a problem, we could take the two tubes and feed them into one. That way we would only have to double the part of the trench that went along the side of the house. He liked that idea, and for the rest of the weekend we worked on just the drainage for the spouts. That was quite the project. For two days we cut, glued, and laid PVC pipe. This was a massive geometry problem. I learned early on that Dad should have bought the pipe first, put it together without the glue, got it the way he wanted on the yard, made markings on the grass, and then dug his trench. But since the trench was already dug, we were trying to fit the PVC tubes into Dad’s trench which wasn’t always straight or cut at nice angles like 22.5, 45, or 90 degrees which are the three angles PVC connectors come in. This became a huge challenge for us. But in the end, we managed to get the drainage system for the spouts completely put together and we doubled the size of the trench along the house for the French drainage system.
Saturday and Sunday it was sunny. But on Monday, when we had just a little bit more to finish up, it started drizzling. And just, like to the minute, as we got the last piece in place, essentially connecting the first half of the drainage with the last half, it began to pour. The contraption was a success and the water gushed out of our new drainage system. Next weekend Dad has to install the French drainage system to account for the water that falls into the yard and nearby hill side, but it should be much easier for him, because of this weekend’s experience and that tubing despite also being PVC based, is much more flexible. And now you know all about outdoor drainage.
Essentially he wanted to install a new drainage system for the two water spouts on the right side of the house, and a French drainage system for water that flowed down a nearby hill and might collect by the side of the house, as well as the water that just naturally falls there. At the moment he had the trench wide enough for one tube’s worth of drainage. He needed the trench wide enough for two tubes. The way the French drainage system works is that you lay a piece of fabric in the trench, then you take a PVC type pipe that has finger thick holes drilled into it like a woofle ball, and place it in the trench with the holes facing down. On top of that you put gravel, and on top of that you grow grass. When it rains the water soaks into the ground like it normally would, but as it collects it starts to rise up into the holes and when enough is collected it travels down the PVC pipe and away from the house. The spout drainage system originally went into large copper pipes that went very deep into the ground and went somewhere. We don’t know where the copper pipes lead because they go down so deep. The problem is that over the years the copper can crack and when that happens the water can leak out and start causing problems. Dad thought maybe the copper pipes had cracked somewhere along the basement wall and was causing water to leak into the house.
So when I got there he had an initial one tube wide trench dug. That in itself was quite a feat. It was a long trench and had to be back breaking work. Right away I, who always try to avoid demanding labor, convinced him that we didn’t need to double the size of the entire trench. Rather once we got past the side of the house and into the front yard where leakage wasn’t a problem, we could take the two tubes and feed them into one. That way we would only have to double the part of the trench that went along the side of the house. He liked that idea, and for the rest of the weekend we worked on just the drainage for the spouts. That was quite the project. For two days we cut, glued, and laid PVC pipe. This was a massive geometry problem. I learned early on that Dad should have bought the pipe first, put it together without the glue, got it the way he wanted on the yard, made markings on the grass, and then dug his trench. But since the trench was already dug, we were trying to fit the PVC tubes into Dad’s trench which wasn’t always straight or cut at nice angles like 22.5, 45, or 90 degrees which are the three angles PVC connectors come in. This became a huge challenge for us. But in the end, we managed to get the drainage system for the spouts completely put together and we doubled the size of the trench along the house for the French drainage system.
Saturday and Sunday it was sunny. But on Monday, when we had just a little bit more to finish up, it started drizzling. And just, like to the minute, as we got the last piece in place, essentially connecting the first half of the drainage with the last half, it began to pour. The contraption was a success and the water gushed out of our new drainage system. Next weekend Dad has to install the French drainage system to account for the water that falls into the yard and nearby hill side, but it should be much easier for him, because of this weekend’s experience and that tubing despite also being PVC based, is much more flexible. And now you know all about outdoor drainage.
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