welcome tuisu

Congratulations to our friends Kärt and Andres who on Nov. 23 welcomed a new daughter, Tuisu.

In case you are wondering Tuisu is a unique name. It is not on the holy list of Estonian name days, and it means "stormy." Kärt's other daughters are Leenu and Tuule. Tuule's name means "windy," so now we know a little windy and stormy.

It was stormy when Tuisu arrived. There was a huge snowstorm here in Estonia. Anyway, welcome Tuisu. There's nothing like a new baby to give you an extra boost in life.

i wanna stay in the jungle

The other day, Marta and I had this discussion in the car:

Marta: I want to get that DVD, the one with the little girl and the bear.

Justin: What little girl and the bear?

Marta: You know, the one that goes, "With just the da da da da da da da da da."

Justin: Huh?

Marta: The one that goes, "with just the da da da da da da da." You know.

Justin: Do you mean the "Bear Necessities?" from Jungle Book?

Marta: Yeah.

Justin: The one with Mowgli and Baloo the bear and Bagheera the panther and Ca the snake?

Marta: Yeah, and the little girl.

Justin: But Mowgli isn't a girl, silly, he's a little boy. Why do you think he doesn't have a shirt on?

Marta: Mowgli is not a boy! She's a girl!

Epp: No, Marta, Mowgli meets a girl at the end of the movie and falls in love. That's why he leaves the jungle. Remember, she is getting water at the stream?

Marta: No, no, no. Mowgli is a girl. I know this.

--
Jungle Book is my favorite Disney movie, because the music is the best. I think Santa might have to bring Mowgli the jungle girl, er boy, to Marta this holiday season.

if 6 was 9

Issipapa Justin is sad that Mitch Mitchell, the drummer for the Jimi Hendrix Experience, was found dead in his hotel room in Portland, Ore., this week.

Though Jimi Hendrix died nine years prior to my birth, the music of the Experience reminds me of being a teenager. It's very much young people music: "I have only one burning desire: let me stand next to your fire" and "manic depression has captured my soul: I know what I want but I really don't know how to go about getting it: music, sweet music, I wish I could caress and kiss: manic depression is a frustrating mess."

One JHE tune was called "If six was nine." It's on the Axis: Bold as Love album as well as the Easy Rider soundtrack. It's very relevant because Marta has still to sort her numbers out. She easily grasps the recognizable ones -- she can go from one to five without missing a beat. But she sees six and it sort of reminds her of nine. I tell her that with nine, the circle is on the top, but with six, it's on the bottom. But she is still making this mistake.

Marta has also had trouble with p's and b's and d's. She seems slightly dyslexic ... or something. To tell you the truth, I have no idea what dyslexia is actually like. I know Tom Cruise has it; which may explain why the two of them are so excitable and dramatic. I just know that Marta reverses numbers and has a hard time digesting that "bread" and "dread" are not the same word, though they look pretty similar.

Marta has, however, mastered her name. She can spell her own name, Anna's name, and Epp's name easily. She is making her "J"s backwards though, so my name looks like "Gustin." Marta drew a picture of me in her kindergarten. I was the only daddy drawn by the kids who had a crown and a staff: On top was written "G U S," in the middle was a "t," and at the bottom was an "N." That's me, "King Gustin." It wasn't completely in reverence of me, though. You see, if Issipapa Justin is a king, that means that Marta is a princess.

My approach to handling the six and nine issue will be to keep showing her the numbers, making her write them herself, and maybe trying to do some rudimentary math so that she understands that the symbols actually represent something. And, in the meantime, here is the "If 6 was 9" clip from Easy Rider, for your enjoyment.

patricia

Marta has a favorite doll. Her name is "Patricia." But Marta doesn't call her "Patricia" -- she calls her "Tatricia."

Marta likes to dress up Patricia in different styles of clothing. Sometimes I asked to assist in putting pajamas on Patricia so that she is ready for bedtime.

Usually, though, Patricia's wardrobe is all up to Marta. She'll work very hard and then say, "Look! Look at Tatricia!" Or, "Come Issi! Come fix Tatricia's hair!"

I am really pleased that she is called Patricia, or Tatricia, or Tratisha, or whatever. In the past, Marta's doll names sounded like Star Wars characters. "That's Zodray, Archaya, and Malaya," Marta would say. That's probably one of the reasons I am so fond of Patricia. I can remember her name.

endless night

Jet lag ... sucks. I have managed to reconcile myself already with eesti time. But for children without appointments or obligations, sleep comes whenever it wants to. Marta and Anna take naps during the day and then take extended naps that last from about 7 or 8 pm until 2 in the morning. Then they are up and ready to go again. For the first two days it was Epp who was deprived of sleep. She was very cranky and at times unpleasant to be around because of this. Last night it was my turn. I worked until 1:30 am and was barely asleep when Anna woke up. I took her downstairs to play, but then Marta came down. Then Anna had a caca explosion and Marta was demanding attention and it was just ... messy. I dream of a moment where I sleep as long as I want to, but the problem is that I never do this on work trips because conferences start so goddamn early! If only I could satiate my need for sleep AND wake up before them. That would be a great day.

what it's like

Often people ask me questions about the trip to and fro Estonia. I think they assume it's either a) "monstrously long" or b) "not so bad, I mean you made it here, right?" I would say it's actually somewhere in between, with a lot left up to chance.

I think it actually depends on when you begin counting the journey. It typically starts a day before with a packing ritual and, no matter how hard you try, you always leave something behind.

This time I left behind my antibiotics, because I became somewhat feverish as I tried to repack our bags to make all the stuff we had decided to lug across the ocean fit. I had enough to fill one small bag. My daughters and wife, however, had tons of shit. We're talking wardrobe. And there's no way you can really reduce a girl's wardrobe -- you know that they actually made huge sacrifices -- a pair of shoes there, a scarf here -- to get to their belongings into four or five large suitcases.

Part two of the trip is the journey to the airport. If you are leaving from Tartu, it will take you two to two and a half hours to get to the Tallinn airport. The last time, we drove up early in the AM. There was barely any traffic. This time, when we drove home from Tallinn, I had to deal with the usual kamikazes who think they can pass at all times, even in the face of oncoming traffic! If you leave from Setauket, it takes a little over an hour to get to JFK. This is all of course depending on traffic.

After you get to the airport, check your bags, and get your tickets, producing the correct passports -- Marta and Anna both have dual citizenship -- at the right time. When they leave Estonia, we show the Estonian passports. When they enter and leave the US we show the American ones. When we go through EU customs in Helsinki, we produce the Estonian ones again.

At security, you must remove your shoes and laptops and belts and your kids shoes and fold the stroller and do anything to please the inspectors. This is no easy task. Try taking off your shoe and holding a baby at the same time. It takes talent!

Finally, you get to board the plane. This is the one advantage of having kids with you when you travel -- you get to go first. If you fly out of Tallinn, you take a shuttle to Helsinki airport. The actual flight takes about 10 minutes, but then there's the landing, which takes forever. Planes climb above the clouds, only to cross the tiny Gulf of Finland, and circle to land in Helsinki-Vantaa. On board they serve you a bottled water and a chocolate.

The Helsinki-New York flight is a monster. It's usually full. The food and service is good, and I have no complaints. The last time, it took us 7 hours and 20 minutes to get from point A [New York] to point B [Helsinki]. People think that's long, but it's only an hour and a half more than a flight to the West Coast.

I have taken this flight so many times, I know where all the important points are. Typically, after take off, dinner, toilet, and the first movie, you are nearing Iceland. Anna and Marta usually fall asleep at this point. Another two films and you are closing in on your destination -- maybe over New Hampshire or Sweden.

The winds on the straight between Greenland and Labrador are typically strong, as are the winds off the coast of Norway. If it gets bumpy, you are usually over the coast of Newfoundland or just over Trondheim. The mountains that run down the spine of the Scandinavian peninsula also give you a few bumps. Finally, you circle and land in Helsinki and have to wake up Marta and Anna. If you are like me and you can't sleep on planes, you feel a little tired, but still coherent. It's that second connection to Tallinn that really sucks the life out of you.

Tallinn does have a homey quality from the sky. I can see the zoo and the houses where Epp's aunt lives and the hospital where Marta was born. It is not a foreign place to me. I get the same feeling when we cross the Long Island sound and I can look down and see the tiny cars driving on the Long Island Expressway. It reminds me of the intro to feature presentations HBO used to show in the 80s.

Unlike me, it seems our kids have no anxiety about flying. Anna gets on and she gets off. Marta seems to enjoy it. They have mostly been well behaved on flights. Only one time I had to force Marta to get up from under the seat and she bit me! I had a lump on my arm from where her tiny jaws had attempted to hurt me for making her wear her seat belt.

Issipapa Justin is in charge of luggage and, ultimately, getting us home. This time we went to our friend Tiia's apartment and slept for four hours because I decided I was in no shape to contend with the Estonian kamikaze drivers after a trip that could be calculated to last between 8 and 10 hours. But with a little coffee and some loud Estonian pop music on the radio, I made it down the weary highways of this land until we finally reached Tartu, best described as a European city that was airlifted by UFOs and dropped in the middle of nowhere.

The kids slept in the car too, which means that just when Issipapa Justin wanted to get some rest after a long trip home, they were ready to rock and roll. Ah, ain't this the life! So that's basically what it takes to get from Estonia to New York or vice versa. It demands endurance, but I have done it so many times it doesn't seem so taxing. I am sure the flight to Australia is a whole other experience.

rock obama

What a historic week, eh? Yes, we are Democrats. My grandma Peg is a Democrat, too. According to legend, she got in a heated dispute during the 1936 election. She was for Roosevelt. Her friend was for Alf Landon. They rarely spoke afterwards.

Marta has shown interest in this election. She knew the names of both candidates, "Rock Obama" and "McCain." She even has a song that goes, "rock obama, rock obama, rock obama, rock obama" and so on.

Anna stayed up late with us after Marta finally went to bed to see President-elect Obama's speech in Grant Park. The first election I really remember is the 1988 election between Bush and Dukakis. I have no recollection of Mondale-Ferraro in '84, although I do remember that "where's the beef?" joke being made all the time.

Anna definitely won't remember this election. But at least she has this cool photo of herself, capturing the moment for all time.

sonic youth

Marta told us in the other day that she would like to be a music teacher when she grows up. This idea seems plausible [like all the others].

She is very lucky because I play instruments myself. When I was a kid the "musical" kids tended to have parents who had guitars and pianos and violins lying around the house. Now Marta is one of those kids.

The other night she put the drum rhythm on the keyboard and I played my new acoustic bass guitar. Our first jam session!


The other day I caught Marta "writing down" the music she was making on the keyboard. I looked on the sheet of paper, and there were dozens of little notes on the page.

Maybe I am too proud of my kid, but that seemed like a pretty interesting development. I am not sure if I thought in those concepts when I was the same age. But Marta understood that music could be a) composed on a keyboard and b) written down. Pretty cool, huh!

sunday sauce

When my mother was a little girl she watched her grandmother Maria make sauce every week. Two weeks ago I helped Mom make sauce, except this time, I brought along a pen and some paper to write up an "official recipe" for what a lot of Italian cookbooks call "Sunday gravy."

Let's see if this makes any sense:


Heat stainless steel pot at medium heat.

Wipe inside of pot with vegetable oil.

Add three cloves of chopped garlic and six, small pork neck bones.

[At this point, you may wish to add other meats, like braciola or Italian sausage. Turn and remove once browned.]

Add six cans of tomato sauce -- three puree, three crushed tomato, adding one quarter to one half of a can of water for each can.

Add one quarter of a cup red wine. Add one teaspoon of chopped basil, oregano, and parsley.

Add one table spoon of salt.

Cover.

At this point, you leave the sauce to cook while you prepare the meatballs in a large mixing bowl.

Mix two slices of bread with a half cup of milk. Add three cups of breadcrumbs and two cups of oatmeal. Add four and a quarter pounds of chopped meat.

[Mom used a mix of different chopped meats]

Chop one normal sized onion. Add one tablespoon of onion to the sauce. Add two tablespoons of salt and half a teaspoon of pepper to the bowl and mix.

[After mixing with her hands, Mom hollowed out the center of the mix where she added the following ingredients.]

Add two or three eggs and one quarter of pecorino romano cheese. Mix. Add two ladles of tomato sauce to the meatball mix again. Roll meatballs.

Here is where these two recipes come together.

Add braciola/Italian sausage to the sauce.

Add meatballs to the sauce.

Boil on medium heat for several hours.

It's actually recommended to make "Sunday sauce" on a Saturday afternoon and let it sit over night before serving it. The sauce is quite handy, you can recycle it for use in various pastas as well as for making lasagna.