M. Giant's
Throwing stuff at the internet to see what sticks

Wednesday, December 28, 2005  

In 1992, Trash and I went on a four-day Caribbean cruise. For a better description of this experience than I could ever muster, please see David Foster Wallace’s aptly titled, “A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again.” What surprised me about the experience is that after we got home, it took me a day or two to shake the sensation that the floor of my apartment was imperceptibly pitching and rolling like the decks of the floating hotel upon which I had just spent the better part of a week. This was my first first-hand experience with the phenomenon known as “sea-legs.”

In 1996, Trash and I went to Greece for a friend’s wedding. It was a marvelous and thoroughly enjoyable experience, except for the trip home. This part was an Amazing-Race-worthy ordeal that required us to fly from Santorini to Athens to New York to St. Louis to Minneapolis. All told, we were either in airports or on airplanes for twenty-four consecutive hours (not counting the time difference). The next day at work, I couldn’t get rid of the feeling that the floor of my workplace was imperceptibly bucking and vibrating like the floor of an airplane cabin. This was my first-hand experience with a phenomenon that I assume is known as “air-legs.”

After M. Small’s first birthday, he was officially old enough to ride in the car with his seat facing forward. This made the next trip to Iowa more pleasant for him, as he could see both of us in the front seat, as well as look out the windshield for constant reassurance that we weren’t driving into oncoming traffic. Better yet, he could stretch out his feet and give the back of my seat a push every once in a while, just to remind me he was there without having to go to the trouble of actually letting out a wail. I moved my seat up a few notches to make sure he had enough room. I’ve done that a couple of times now. Since I’ve had this car, I’ve always had the driver’s seat positioned as far back as it would go, in order to accommodate my six-feet-and-change frame. Every few weeks, I inch it forward one more notch. And yet I still frequently feel that gentle but persistent push into the right side of my back. Sometimes, I feel it when he’s not even in the car.

I have decided to call this phenomenon “my-toddler-has-annoyingly-long-legs.” And I was going to call it that even before last night, when he showed us that he’s tall enough to reach the controls of the stereo. Looks like the childproofing threshold is going to have to be hiked up a bit. I just wish he’d stay under three feet until he learns what is and isn’t okay to pick up and drop, or pick up and throw, or pick up and eat. Either until then or until he moves out, whichever comes first. I’m not picky.

posted by M. Giant 7:38 PM 2 comments


I've never been on a cruise and that DFW piece is the main reason I probably never will.

The thought of what it will take to childproof my home makes me weary. I imagine I'll just keep everything as high as possible and blanket the lower three feet in foam rubber. I've thought about hanging the remote controls from the ceiling as well.

By Anonymous Anonymous, at December 29, 2005 at 7:02 AM  

I have the same fears about going on a cruise, thanks to DFW.

I worry that spending all that money just to have a bad time would be a REALLY bad time.

And, regarding kicks in the back . . . my wife really doesn't like it, but I've chosen to live and let live.

I mean, if they can't find ways of amusing themselves, then we'll be guiding their playtime FOREVER!

By Blogger David, at December 31, 2005 at 11:54 AM  

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