Baby Blog/Travelogue

Styling with Alex

Mon, 10 Nov 2008 09:48:15 -0800

Weekend ritual: Alex and Kai and I go to the Marymoor dog park where we wander around and each have differing conversations with other dogs and the people they own.

Yesterday, Alex was clambering around on the rocks near the Sammamish River and he fell halfway in. So I got him out of his cold wet clothes and got him dry and warm in my fleece. The picture above is “before,” the last three in the set below are “after.”

Given the chance, Alex of course also likes to experiment with different approaches and will on occasion borrow from his mother or his father. Saturday he borrowed from both.

What fun!

Kai and Mango in repose

Sat, 27 Sep 2008 02:53:13 -0700

Kai is cool. He is always at ease in his own uniquely spotted skin. He is enthusiastic and joyful and has LOTS of issues, but we love him. Best Great Dane in the world.

Now, once you have a big spotted dog, what kind of barn cat does one get? Gray stripey. And what is the best possible name for such a cat? Mango.

Just go ask Alex.

Alex the Propogandist

Sun, 21 Sep 2008 03:30:12 -0700

Alex wants all of you to vote on November 4th for something he really cares about: sockeye salmon protection. Don’t let that elitist, bombastic Alaskan gubernator have her way with our precious wildlife! Vote for Alex!

A late summer evening in footy pajamas

Fri, 1 Aug 2008 05:33:20 -0700

Watching Alex play is a lesson in learning, pure applied energy. His native curiosity pushes past the outer limits of a lingering Friday evening in August. Bedtime is only an approximate notion outrun by Mr. Motion.

“Grandma, I want to JUMP!”

Sat, 26 Jul 2008 03:04:02 -0700

The other night Stacey and Alex were at Cindy’s house, and Alex announced to his grandmother in his most precise, articulate declaration yet: “Grandma, I want to JUMP!” And so Alex took Cindy by the hand and they went into the kitchen and they jumped. Up and down. Together.

I sometimes have a hard time knowing what to expect from a two-year old. Well, more than sometimes. But I don’t expect this kind of grace and power and pure joy...

Alex in motion

Sat, 12 Jul 2008 03:18:53 -0700

He never stops. He gets lots of help, but he is perpetually and preternaturally on the move. Gotta go!

Sad day, happy duet

Sat, 12 Jul 2008 00:23:29 -0700

Jeremy joins Alex on the keyboards for a four-handed variation on Bach’s Blues at Lynn’s memorial reception. We’ll miss Lynn, but we will always remember him in music, in the mountains, in Nebraska, and in our hearts.

Lynn Gorr, 1942-2008

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 04:38:54 -0700

Nebraska and Navy, mountains and cars, and finally, work and family...

Our family and friends are gathered to celebrate Lynn’s life, not to mourn his death. Lynn lived a great life, and loved every minute of it. Yes, he would rather have died in Cindy’s arms, but failing that, he went out the best way possible—on the trail, with his boots on. In retrospect, three pairs of simple themes in Lynn’s life stand out: Nebraska and Navy, mountains and cars, and finally, work and family. For him, work—hiking up a mountain, for example—was the journey and the effort itself is the fun. That exertion was truly joyful for Lynn.

Nebraska and Navy. Lynn Gorr was born October 6, 1942 in Chadron, Nebraska to Donald and Helen Gorr. He grew up on a ranch northwest of Chadron, spending many happy boyhood days with his grandfather LeRoi, a true cowboy.
In high school, he drove a 1956 black and white Ford, and played football. He broke his leg during a football game during his junior year, but went back into the game, and did not get diagnosed until the following Monday. Lynn and his bride-to-be, Cindy, together graduated from Chadron High School with the class of 1960.

After attending Chadron State College for one year, Lynn went on to earn a degree in mechanical engineering at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln in 1965 and later also became a licensed civil engineer. Although he moved away from Nebraska, eventually to settle his family in the Pacific Northwest, in many ways he never left.

Toward the end of their college years, Cindy asked Lynn if he was going to go back to the ranch or going to work. From early on, he said he knew he was different—therefore, not made for the farm. He went to work. As Cindy would say, cows were only tolerable.

Lynn’s first job was with Mobil in Kansas City. But with the impending Vietnam War, he entered the Navy’s Officer Candidate School in autumn 1966. As a naval officer, Lynn served with the Seabees in MCB-3, cementing a lifelong affection for the Seabees and his life’s work in construction. He was awarded the Navy Commendation Medal during his battalion’s deployment to Vietnam.

Lynn maintained close contact with his loyal Seabee compatriots through 20 years in the reserves as well as participating in alumni gatherings.

Mountains. Lynn loved the mountains and the ocean. He didn’t love mowing the lawn or cleaning gutters, but truly loved the great outdoors. Lynn was always a happy evangelist of the mountains. With Lynn, it was not about being first to the top of the mountain, but making it to the top of the mountain—SAFELY. Over time, Lynn took John Brandon up Mt. Adams, and Dick Padrick up Mt. Hood. It was great being Lynn’s climbing partner because he always had every piece of gear needed, or imagined to be necessary.

During one of Lynn’s more memorable climbs up Mt. St. Helens, a big cloud formation had gathered up top. Lynn’s group included Carolyn and Heather and John Brandon and David Huls, and after a long section, they together sat down to eat dinner/lunch in the mist. Unbeknownst to the team, they were sitting very near to the corniced edge of the peak and along came winds that just split the clouds and this huge crater suddenly opened up below them. What a moment, just to imagine.

Another wonderful vignette is set on Lynn’s favorite peak, Mt. Rainier. The first time Lynn tried to summit Rainier, he was sent back down by his guide, Ed Viesturs, who since then has gone on to become the greatest living American Alpinist. Lynn took to heart the lessons of “Steady Eddie” and came back the next year in even better shape and summitted Rainier in outstanding form. Lynn loved that mountain, and we will find a place high up on those slopes for some of his ashes.

Cars. Lynn loved open-top cars: even though he was a Ford man from early on, he drove everything from a dune buggy to a Miata to a Porsche, with the unrequited hope of someday, perhaps a Lamborghini or Ferrari. Cindy says she always drove his “automotive alter-egos,” but he always liked the Prius more than he would admit. Her memory of their move to Puerto Rico was Lynn’s purchase of a motorcycle. “It was for you, dear, so that you could take the car while I drive the cycle…”

Work. We had a wonderful visit at the house a few nights ago with Jerry Jewell. When Lynn introduced Jerry Jewell, he would always say “he’s my boss, but he’s a really, really good guy.” We learned from Jerry the other night that there were no entries in his Day-Timer after July 3. One could conclude that Lynn had few short-term plans, but so very many, many long-term plans.

Lynn almost always had at least two books going: one upstairs, one downstairs, and often another book on tape in the car. His dad called him The Professor.

Lynn had been so very much looking forward to retirement. There were always other adventures waiting out there—sailing lessons, guitar lessons, flying lessons, teaching Alex how to fish, other hiking trips as well as travel abroad. Time with friends, family and nature—these were Lynn’s true passions.

Family. Lynn’s niece asked one of the biggest and best family questions of the week: “Who’s going to serve the ice cream now?” For his part, Lynn is still looking for that ultimate slice of pizza.

Both his daughters recall two vignettes so very vividly: one involving soccer, the other involving horses (of course). Lynn was so dedicated in attending the girls’ many soccer games, but usually for the first half of the soccer game, he would huddle in the car with headphones on listening to the Cornhusker game on the radio. If the game was on the TV, Lynn was in for a very difficult choice…

The second memory is the girls’ campaign to get a horse. For years, their refrain was, “Daddy, can we have a horse, PLEEEEEEEEASE?” Inevitably, Lynn’s answer would be, “We’ll see,” which meant “no.” Eventually, his daughters put together a plan with a budget that proved that they could do it. They took the plan to their father and finally the answer was “Maybe.” The girls ran upstairs to jump on the bed in joy, because they knew they had gotten to YES. Grit became the horse they were responsible for feeding every day. Five miles round trip by bicycle.

Carolyn’s singular memory of her father was this: “If I ever had doubts about my goals, my dad saw things in me that I couldn’t see. He believed in me when I didn’t.”
And so we all must continue down this same path, knowing that Lynn will lead the way and look out for us and see things in us we do not. Thank you, Lynn.

Two of a kind

Fri, 4 Jul 2008 01:00:27 -0700

Alex and his paternal grandmother have so very much in common: perpetual motion married to a native work ethic that goes past the skin to muscle and bones--and they make it fun together!

The boys of summer

Fri, 27 Jun 2008 05:47:11 -0700

The Hahns and the Tolles stopped by for dinner, and the real action was out on the deck. The field of play was defined only in the vaguest terms, but it was clear that there were several parameters required to achieve proximate and enduring success. Fun for the boys!

On the trail

Thu, 26 Jun 2008 03:10:23 -0700

Alex and Kai and I have a great time hiking together. This entry includes a couple of videos and some pictures highlighting what fun this crew is.

The first video is of the ascent. Kai farted, and Alex couldn’t stop giggling. Just hilarious.

The second video is on the way down--ad down, and down and down and Alex doesn’t stop or slow down.

Finally, here’s a photo set of one of Alex’s interludes, the Empiricist on the trail.

On the go go go

Mon, 23 Jun 2008 03:53:48 -0700

You don’t even need to wind him up. Just stand back and let him rip--but every now and then he’ll need help picking up the pieces.