Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Baby Update
It has taken me about two-and-a-half weeks to update the blog to announce that we named our baby Elizabeth Catherine Loertscher. Sorry about the delay, but I've been pretty busy (more later on this) since Liz finally decided to come.

For those who like a detailed play-by-play analysis, you'll have to talk Rebecca into writing that. I only do "color commentary." For my part, I'll only note that the doctors wanted to induce Rebecca at 41 weeks, so on the appointed day we rolled into the hospital at 6:00 am. They started the pitosin IV, set up the epidural, broke Rebecca's water, and at 12:02 Elizabeth arrived on the scene. It went pretty smooth, but that's easy for me to say. The only pain I suffered was from some intense hand squeezing, and I've recovered nicely from that (thanks for asking).
I was able to get a week-and-a-half off of work to help out so Rebecca could get started on her recovery and it was time very well spent. I learned that Rebecca's job is so much tougher than mine, something that I've long suspected (duh) but only recently lived through. By the time I got the kids fed and started on their school work, and the breakfast dishes cleaned up, and a few loads of laundry, it was time to start thinking about fixing lunch. It's like a treadmill. But it was fun and very much worth it.

So, I'm glad to be back at work now, where I can relax a little bit.
For those who like a detailed play-by-play analysis, you'll have to talk Rebecca into writing that. I only do "color commentary." For my part, I'll only note that the doctors wanted to induce Rebecca at 41 weeks, so on the appointed day we rolled into the hospital at 6:00 am. They started the pitosin IV, set up the epidural, broke Rebecca's water, and at 12:02 Elizabeth arrived on the scene. It went pretty smooth, but that's easy for me to say. The only pain I suffered was from some intense hand squeezing, and I've recovered nicely from that (thanks for asking).
I was able to get a week-and-a-half off of work to help out so Rebecca could get started on her recovery and it was time very well spent. I learned that Rebecca's job is so much tougher than mine, something that I've long suspected (duh) but only recently lived through. By the time I got the kids fed and started on their school work, and the breakfast dishes cleaned up, and a few loads of laundry, it was time to start thinking about fixing lunch. It's like a treadmill. But it was fun and very much worth it.
So, I'm glad to be back at work now, where I can relax a little bit.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Rebecca's Birthday
Sunday, March 22, 2009
St. Louis Conference Trip Redux
One of the most formative experiences of my teenage years was a high school journalism trip during my senior year. Our school paper, The Buzz, won a prestigious award and a few of us were chosen to pick it up at a conference. So, in the fall of 1989, I boarded a plane with our adviser Ron Bennett and my friend Rebecca, who was the paper's editor in-chief.
I have many vivid memories of the trip. I remember my first taxi ride ever, the tall buildings in downtown St. Louis, and the obligatory ride to the top of the Gateway Arch. Another friend named Renee, who was attending Cottey College in Nevada, Missouri, got bus tickets and met us at the conference.
A couple of weeks ago I returned to St. Louis to attend another conference, this time an environmental training symposium. I'm usually a bit of a hermit when I go on these business trips, preferring to hole up in my hotel with a book rather than go out on the town. But I decided to break out of my shell and see what had changed since the last time I was there.
One of the first things that struck me was that almost 20 years had passed since my last visit. Since that time, downtown St. Louis seems to have been slowly declining. The St. Louis Centre, which was a glistening three-story shopping mall in 1989, has been shut down and boarded up. The city itself was pretty quiet, with very few people on the sidewalks.

Since the conference I attended was happening very near the defunct mall, I walked past it every day I was there. Every time I did, old memories from the journalism trip began to whisper from the corners of my mind. I began to remember walking down to Union Station almost every day with my friends. I remembered how Becky dragged me down to the hotel lobby to buy a Sprite because I refused to drink Coke out of a vending machine. I remembered watching a newly married couple and their well-wishers stream out of the church near the base of the Arch.
Resolved to revisit some of these places, I went for a stroll the night before I was to return home. I walked down Market Street to Union Station.

Once inside, I could see that much had changed. While the food court was fairly active, most of the other shops struggled to draw customers. The big name shops that were there before (I specifically remember Banana Republic) are now gone, replaced mostly with places that sell St. Louis Cardinals or "Budweiser" paraphernalia.
The only place that seemed to have survived was "The Fudgery," which was my favorite place 20 years ago. The large candy-making crew would sing and dance and put on quite a show while mixing fudge on big slabs of marble.

Crowds would gather around and try free samples. Even this former hotspot seemed to be on its last legs. The three guys working there still sang a few songs, but hardly anyone was there to listen. Saddened, I bought some fudge to bring home to the kids.
I decided to ride the new subway back toward the hotel. The train stop was back behind Union Station, and as I approached I saw the movie theater we went to during my last trip. We watched the next movie showing, which unfortunately turned out to be "Worth Winning," starring (?) Mark Harmon. Trust me, this is a movie not to put on your Netflix queue. When we went to find our seats that night, we were literally the only people in the place, and we quickly realized that the million or so St. Louisians who didn't watch that movie that night were on to something. I don't know if "Worth Winning" killed the theater, but the place is definitely dead now.

The last place I revisted was Charlie Gitto's, an Italian restaurant on Sixth Street. I remembered vividly the dusky atmosphere and the signed photographs of athletes and celebrities on its walls.

It already looked like it had been there forever back in 1989, and it was largely unchanged when I went in. I ordered a large plate of rigatoni proscuitto, which was undoubtedly the best meal I had during my return to St. Louis. I sat at my table, with only my memories to keep me company. Well, Butterscotch was with me, but she's not much for conversation.

The extreme solitude of dining solo lends itself to contemplation, so I thought about how much St. Louis seemed to have changed since I was there last. I realized that I shouldn't be surprised. After all, much has happened to me during the 20 years that had passed. Since then, I've spent eight years at various universities, been happily married 15 years, and held a handful of different jobs. I'm in the process of raising a bunch of great kids, which never cease to challenge, amuse, and entertain me. Life has been good to me, and I have been very blessed.
Now that I think about it, St. Louis is more like it was in 1989 than I am.
I have many vivid memories of the trip. I remember my first taxi ride ever, the tall buildings in downtown St. Louis, and the obligatory ride to the top of the Gateway Arch. Another friend named Renee, who was attending Cottey College in Nevada, Missouri, got bus tickets and met us at the conference.
A couple of weeks ago I returned to St. Louis to attend another conference, this time an environmental training symposium. I'm usually a bit of a hermit when I go on these business trips, preferring to hole up in my hotel with a book rather than go out on the town. But I decided to break out of my shell and see what had changed since the last time I was there.
One of the first things that struck me was that almost 20 years had passed since my last visit. Since that time, downtown St. Louis seems to have been slowly declining. The St. Louis Centre, which was a glistening three-story shopping mall in 1989, has been shut down and boarded up. The city itself was pretty quiet, with very few people on the sidewalks.
Since the conference I attended was happening very near the defunct mall, I walked past it every day I was there. Every time I did, old memories from the journalism trip began to whisper from the corners of my mind. I began to remember walking down to Union Station almost every day with my friends. I remembered how Becky dragged me down to the hotel lobby to buy a Sprite because I refused to drink Coke out of a vending machine. I remembered watching a newly married couple and their well-wishers stream out of the church near the base of the Arch.
Resolved to revisit some of these places, I went for a stroll the night before I was to return home. I walked down Market Street to Union Station.
Once inside, I could see that much had changed. While the food court was fairly active, most of the other shops struggled to draw customers. The big name shops that were there before (I specifically remember Banana Republic) are now gone, replaced mostly with places that sell St. Louis Cardinals or "Budweiser" paraphernalia.
The only place that seemed to have survived was "The Fudgery," which was my favorite place 20 years ago. The large candy-making crew would sing and dance and put on quite a show while mixing fudge on big slabs of marble.
Crowds would gather around and try free samples. Even this former hotspot seemed to be on its last legs. The three guys working there still sang a few songs, but hardly anyone was there to listen. Saddened, I bought some fudge to bring home to the kids.
I decided to ride the new subway back toward the hotel. The train stop was back behind Union Station, and as I approached I saw the movie theater we went to during my last trip. We watched the next movie showing, which unfortunately turned out to be "Worth Winning," starring (?) Mark Harmon. Trust me, this is a movie not to put on your Netflix queue. When we went to find our seats that night, we were literally the only people in the place, and we quickly realized that the million or so St. Louisians who didn't watch that movie that night were on to something. I don't know if "Worth Winning" killed the theater, but the place is definitely dead now.
The last place I revisted was Charlie Gitto's, an Italian restaurant on Sixth Street. I remembered vividly the dusky atmosphere and the signed photographs of athletes and celebrities on its walls.
It already looked like it had been there forever back in 1989, and it was largely unchanged when I went in. I ordered a large plate of rigatoni proscuitto, which was undoubtedly the best meal I had during my return to St. Louis. I sat at my table, with only my memories to keep me company. Well, Butterscotch was with me, but she's not much for conversation.
The extreme solitude of dining solo lends itself to contemplation, so I thought about how much St. Louis seemed to have changed since I was there last. I realized that I shouldn't be surprised. After all, much has happened to me during the 20 years that had passed. Since then, I've spent eight years at various universities, been happily married 15 years, and held a handful of different jobs. I'm in the process of raising a bunch of great kids, which never cease to challenge, amuse, and entertain me. Life has been good to me, and I have been very blessed.
Now that I think about it, St. Louis is more like it was in 1989 than I am.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Toy cats and economics
Somewhere in our travels we acquired some toy cats which eventually became Bryan's special friends. The first was a simple, pillow-like feline that Bryan named "Butterscotch." Butterscotch has led an interesting life, most recently traveling to Washington DC with me to attend a big conference. Here he is catching a few minutes of a Bulls game on the flatscreen in the fancy hotel.



And here he is relaxing before calling it a night.

The second cat was "Snip" and he's a "Beanie Baby." As you may recall, these little bead-filled cloth critters were all the rage back in the nineties, and you can see why after watching kids play with them. Bryan has been nuts about Snip, and he tells imaginative stories about how Snip does backflips, fights the bad guys, flies through the air, has ears with "magic powers," and makes cute little sounds. Sort of a cuddly ninja, a concept that speaks to the very depths of a four year old boy's soul.
Snip has become such a fixture in our family that John has attempted to lure Snip away from Bryan and into his own camp. At one point we decided we needed to provide some cats for John to ease the contention, so we logged onto ebay to test the market.
We found that the Beanie market has dropped considerably since its heyday. We found 12 of them for $10, which we decided was a pretty good deal. We snapped them up and about a week later, we had a dozen fabric kitties named things like "Zip," "Chip," "Flip," "Nip," "Pounce," "Prance," "Scat,"and even a brand new "Snip." The kids immediately "clipped" off the tags and started to snuggle.

When I came home from work and saw twelve heart-shaped tags lying around, I couldn't help but think of how those tags had been carefully preserved for about 10 years before meeting their fate. As you may recall, some people began to think of Beanie Babies as investments. I remember seeing a news story on TV (back when I watched network news) that reported how Beanies "NWT" going for hundreds of dollars each. One of the cardinal rules of maintaining your portfolio's value was keeping the tags on. If your tag was cut off or crinkled, the value went Enron. But eventually, the market fell out of the bottom anyway.
The real shame of the Beanie Baby bust is that it all happened before these government bailouts became so popular. If the market could have held on for a few years, those happless investors could have had some recourse. They could say how they were tricked into buying them, that the Beanie Baby company overpaid executives that new the end was coming soon, all the usual stuff. You can almost see those with especially big holdings carpooling to D.C. in their minivans to convince Congress that they needed some bailout bill bucks.
Sounds crazy, doesn't it? Doesn't it?
And here he is relaxing before calling it a night.
The second cat was "Snip" and he's a "Beanie Baby." As you may recall, these little bead-filled cloth critters were all the rage back in the nineties, and you can see why after watching kids play with them. Bryan has been nuts about Snip, and he tells imaginative stories about how Snip does backflips, fights the bad guys, flies through the air, has ears with "magic powers," and makes cute little sounds. Sort of a cuddly ninja, a concept that speaks to the very depths of a four year old boy's soul.
Snip has become such a fixture in our family that John has attempted to lure Snip away from Bryan and into his own camp. At one point we decided we needed to provide some cats for John to ease the contention, so we logged onto ebay to test the market.
We found that the Beanie market has dropped considerably since its heyday. We found 12 of them for $10, which we decided was a pretty good deal. We snapped them up and about a week later, we had a dozen fabric kitties named things like "Zip," "Chip," "Flip," "Nip," "Pounce," "Prance," "Scat,"and even a brand new "Snip." The kids immediately "clipped" off the tags and started to snuggle.
When I came home from work and saw twelve heart-shaped tags lying around, I couldn't help but think of how those tags had been carefully preserved for about 10 years before meeting their fate. As you may recall, some people began to think of Beanie Babies as investments. I remember seeing a news story on TV (back when I watched network news) that reported how Beanies "NWT" going for hundreds of dollars each. One of the cardinal rules of maintaining your portfolio's value was keeping the tags on. If your tag was cut off or crinkled, the value went Enron. But eventually, the market fell out of the bottom anyway.
The real shame of the Beanie Baby bust is that it all happened before these government bailouts became so popular. If the market could have held on for a few years, those happless investors could have had some recourse. They could say how they were tricked into buying them, that the Beanie Baby company overpaid executives that new the end was coming soon, all the usual stuff. You can almost see those with especially big holdings carpooling to D.C. in their minivans to convince Congress that they needed some bailout bill bucks.
Sounds crazy, doesn't it? Doesn't it?
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