Barackin the vote

Brendan can someday tell the story of how he helped elect the first Black President of the United States.

Strangely, an unfailingly sound sleeper, Brendy woke up screaming just as the race was called. Republicans: Nature? Nurture? Not that there's anything wrong with that...

What a difference a week makes

Last week, on vacation in Cannes, France












This week, back at work after four and a half months:

Barefoot and forgotten

I spent three and a half months terrified that I would not find the perfect nanny. I will now spend the rest of my life terrified that I have found the perfect nanny.

What if Brendan stops flashing me his special smile that right now seems reserved for only momma? At two months old he seemed to think the ceiling fan in my bedroom was his mommy. What if we go backwards? What if the pecking order becomes:

1. awesome nanny
2. intriguing ceiling fan
3. that crazy woman that keeps coming around here and crying

I can already see that Susan (awesome nanny) runs a tighter ship than I. The first example (of many to come, I'm sure) is the brand new shoe policy she has instituted at Chez Voltz. No shoes. When he came to install new locks on our door yesterday, our burly Super was informed in a stern (yet loving) voice that the next time he came he would have to remove his work boots. The next time. As in, "When this neglectful mother goes back to work and I can begin raising this child in the proper way."

So we're now one of those households. A "please remove your shoes" household. In the past I've pretended to understand, but have secretly resented arriving at a dinner party dressed in a carefully selected ensemble only to be asked to remove my shoes. All of a sudden, the pants don't hang properly because the hem is dragging. Or even worse, I have to roll up the cuff and stand around sipping wine looking like a fourth grader in hand me downs. And let's face it. I spend too much money on my shoes to have them spend the evening in a pile by the door. And now we're one of those households. So if you come for dinner, wear nice socks.

Ok, ok. Since you asked, more pictures:

Supporting dad's team in the West Village

Fingers are amusing

Just a droolin' fool

Ok, I guess I can take my shoes off for this guy...

Is it just me, or is this hilarious?

I've already commented on how tedious my life has become*, so I may be more susceptible to juvenile humor these days. Also, the particular gag at about 4 1/2 minutes into this video hits close to home right now, so that could be affecting my judgment. Still, I suspect this is genuinely funny. Hope you agree.





* Tedious, but wonderful in ways that only I find interesting. Not bloggable that my kid smiles as he's drifting off to sleep, and it almost makes me cry. Who cares other than my husband and I?

Shameless Promotion

We're busy, busy, busy preparing for this year's Bud Traynor Classic. Brendan had his first (of many, no doubt) trips to the starter's window at Bethpage as we settled up our tab to reserve the Red Course for the 21st. Come and play! It'll be fun, it's for a good cause, and best of all: you'll get to meet my little genius.

We're teeing off a week from Monday, and it's not too late to sign up. Here's a copy of an email blast I sent with more info:

Dear friends and colleagues:

It is my great pleasure to invite you to take part in the Sixth Annual Bud Traynor Classic Golf Tournament and Luncheon, to be held at Long Island's Bethpage State Park.

This year's Tournament takes place on Monday, July 21, 2008.

Sincere thanks to those who have already registered - we're looking forward to seeing you! And to those who've made donations - thank you for helping to further our cause.

The Tournament is named in honor of my late father, and is dedicated to his lifelong passion for the game. The mission of our modest not-for-profit organization, The Bud Traynor Memorial Fund, Inc., is to raise funds for cancer research, education and treatment. All proceeds of the Tournament will go to Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in New York City.

Our past tournaments have been a resounding success, drawing an enthusiastic crowd of golfers and luncheon attendees to Bethpage Park for a fun day of golf and a great party. We're hoping this year's Tournament - our Sixth - will be our best event yet.

We've reserved the beautiful, challenging Bethpage Red Course. There will be various on-course contests to make the game more interesting ( Longest Drive , Closest To The Pin). We've picked out a delicious menu for lunch at Bethpage Park 's Carlyle on the Green, overlooking the first tee of the famous Black Course (home of the 2002 and 2009 U.S. Opens). Trophies will be awarded to the winners.

Finally, we'll have plenty of valuable raffle prizes and silent auction items up for bid, such as premium golf equipment and a week long stay at a luxury condo at the Tidewater Plantation in North Myrtle Beach , SC - including a free foursome at Tidewater's championship course!

The cost of the Tournament is $225.00, which includes breakfast (with omelet station, always a big hit), greens fee, golf cart, on-course refreshments and luncheon reception with open bar; for non-golfers, the luncheon/open bar is available for $75.00.

The Bud Traynor Memorial Fund, Inc. is a 501(c)(3) charitable organization, so your Tournament/luncheon fees are tax deductible.

To learn more about our organization and its namesake, to register/pay for the tournament, or to make a donation, visit our website at

www.budtraynorclassic.org


Help us spread the word - kindly pass this along to anyone you feel might be interested in taking part or making a donation!

Thank you for your consideration - I hope to see everyone on July 21!

Best regards,

Joan Voltz

PS: Check out this link for a peek at last year's event:

Fifth Annual Bud Traynor Classic

Ready for his closeup...

I'm sure we've all been frustrated by government bureaucracy at some point. How can we be (arguably) the most powerful nation on earth, yet have our entire presidential election process yield a questionable result because of sloppy hole punching and antiquated voting machines? Why is filing tax returns so difficult that most people have to hire a professional to have confidence that a mistake hasn't been made? Making sickly and elderly folks navigate medicare? Don't get me started.

So here's one that cracks me up. Why are photos required for infant passports? Brendan will no longer look like his photo even by the time the booklet arrives in the mail. I'm all for airport security, but this passport will be valid for five years. He'll still be sporting this document through kindergarten. Am I the only one who thinks this is silly?

Going postal

Am I so impressionable?

Did you know that advertising is one of the most reviled professions in the world? Right behind lawyers? Are you pretending to be surprised? It's ok. I don't take it personally. We are, after all, the people trying to convince your children that they need sugar cereal. And the little snipets of film that show you the softer side of Philip Morris? Yep. That's us.

I am here to tell you, however, that we do not use subliminal messaging to brain wash you. I'm always asked if we do. Perhaps people are ashamed to admit they are indeed persuaded by the shamefully blatant pleas we bombard you with. They wish to believe there is a greater force at work. One against which they are powerless. Sorry, dude. You plunked down 60 Gs for that Hummer because the ad said it might make you appear more powerful. By the way, feeling powerful at $4+ a gallon?*

Anyway, I've never believed in the effectiveness of subliminal messaging or brainwashing, until I pondered the potential connectedness of recent events through the rear view mirror.

Event One:
As you all know, we embarked on a kitchen renovation toward the end of the third trimester of my pregnancy. It turned our apartment upside down and left us largely confined to our bedroom. We watched a lot of Law & Order SVU marathons.

Event Two:
I don't believe in revealing names under consideration for unborn children. It invites unwanted opinions on an entirely subjective topic. The only votes that count are the mom and dad's (well, let's face it - really only mom's counts). Once you announce the name, no one is going to tell you they don't like it. But now I can tell you, after reading through the entire "100,000 Baby Names" book and months of consideration with a painstaking process involving post it notes, we narrowed girl names down to Alexandra and Olivia. (In case there is another Baby Voltz someday, no negative comments please).

Subliminal Connection?
Only later did I realize the names of the two lead females on SVU...

Detective Olivia Benson

Assistant District Attorney Alexandra Cabot

Also note, I did buy the stick up bulb.




* By the way, I don't mean to sound entirely cynical about advertising. I think it also does plenty of public good. Like the Dove work I've written about which challenged beauty norms. Or like the Mac work which opened up people's options. Or like the mini work, which made small cars cool. Or like the Target work that made affordable fashionable. I could go on...

Guest Post: A Papa Terry Update

Dear FOJ (Friends/Fans of Joan):

Just a quick update to tell you that Joan has not abandoned her bully, often ridiculous pulpit. She's just a little busy right now with our new little roommate, whom she has affectionately nicknamed "Ravenous Razormouth". I've never been so glad to be male....

We brought Brendan home last Thursday after 4 days in the hospital. He was a city kid from the start; his first experience of the outside world was the noisy riot of traffic-choked 165th and Broadway, and he slept peacefully throughout!

Like all newborns (so I'm told, anyway - what do I know?), Brendan is little bundle of pure id - all needs and appetite - and every day brings entirely new experiences for both him and his parents.

Anyway, here's a couple of our favorite new pictures. Joan and I have promised ourselves and everyone we know that we would not get all obsessive and unrealistic about our kid, but it's difficult to avoid when your baby is the best-looking, smartest child ever born.

Last, thanks to all for the flood of congratulations and love that have accompanied Brendan's birth. Everybody loves a new baby, and it is one of the greatest pleasures of our lives thus far to be recipients of such an outpouring of joy.

TGV

PS: Bachelor fans - stay tuned!

Guest Post from Terry - Arrival of The Latest Voltz!

Hello family and friends:

Very exciting news - Joan and I have welcomed a new addition to our family!

For those who have not heard (and you are many, because I switched from making phone calls to changing diapers at about noon yesterday), Joan gave birth to a healthy baby boy of 7 lbs., 2 oz. on Monday, April 14, 2008 at 9:03 AM at New York Presbyterian's Morgan Stanley Childrens Hospital in Manhattan. Mother and baby are doing well.

We have named our son Brendan Francis Voltz.

Brendan was chosen as a nod to the Irish heritage that Joan and I share, but mostly because it is the name of my brother-in-law, Brendan Traynor, as fine an uncle as any child could hope to have (we're pretty sure he's already bought the kid his first set of golf clubs). Francis was my Dad's name, as well as the middle name of Joan's late father Bud, and we're certain the two of them must be clinking glasses somewhere over this one (a cold Schlitz for Frank and a Beefeater on the rocks for Bud).

Here are a couple of pictures of little Brendan on his first day. Two things are certain; the kid's got HAIR, and he is unmistakably a Voltz. (Joan's quote of the day: "Oh, my God, I've given birth to a miniature version of your father!").

Thanks to all for your support and friendship, and we hope to see you all soon. And apologies in advance to anyone we might have missed

Terry, Joan, and Brendan Voltz
xxxxooo

PS: Voltz/Velsor/Winslow cousins - please forward this link to your siblings and parents!

Why can't we all just get along...

The Bachelor was exactly what I needed at the end of yesterday. I spent most of the day in the hospital hooked up to fetal monitors. Nothing is wrong - they were trying to get my (apparently breech) kid to flip around. Nothin' doin. So I came home just as I went in, with an upside down kid in my belly. Terry and I have taken to singing hits from the 80s to my navel in the vain hope that we may coax this child into challenging gravity. "Turn Around Bright Eyes" and "You Spin Me Right Round" have never held such meaning. With the now almost unavoidable prospect of another surgery in front of me sometime in the next two weeks, I needed some mindless entertainment.

Just as I was contemplating whether there could be anything more mindless than Shayne, there she was on my TV screen in yet another crazy get-up. She and her Agent undoubtedly felt a feathered fedora paired with a soccer team style jacket telegraphed her perfection for some role or genre - but I can not figure out what that might be. Terry thought maybe the next Josie and the Pussycats sequel.

(Aside: I've gotten Terry into the Bach. He tries to act like it's my thing - but I think even he would admit he thinks it's hilarious too. It doesn't hurt that the girls are much trashier this season. I don't think ABC will need to throw NFL appearances into the mix to hold the guys' attention...)

So Holly gets a one on one date. ABC stages a red carpet event, and while I fully expect Holly to find the charade thrilling and romantic, I can't believe snarky Matt keeps a straight face throughout the whole thing. He somehow manages to not be sarcastic while being "interviewed" by the "entertainment reporters" and they pose for a pathetic showing of "paps" - who were actually unemployed actors hired off of Craig's list and paid 20 bucks each to hang around and take pictures of these people as though they were famous. I was so wishing Shayne had gotten this one-one-one date. There is no way she could have gone along with this.

Matt tries to be serious while Holly looks on with Stars in her eyes.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, everyone is having a girls night in when the next date box arrives. Marshana goes outside to pick it up and my early suspicions of her as psycho are confirmed. Her loungin' with the girls attire includes four inch heels, a dress so short there is no way she can do anything but stand with her knees pinned together and some kind of Indian Princess headdress thing. I believe the word is bejeweled.

Shayne is now demonstrating the "I can be a sweet, thoughtful girl wearing a floral print with my loose, softly windswept romantic hair. Perhaps the love interest of a character played by Owen Wilson or Keanu Reaves" look.

Time for some drama, so ABC arranges a ding-dong-ditch drop off from Mann's Theater. It's a celebrity style cement plaque from the red carpet date. It says Matt hearts Holly - which is so seventh grade and the girls oblige by flipping out junior high style.

How do I know Matt thought the Hollywood style date was as ridiculous as I did? He describes the highlight as being in a hot tub with a hot girl. I just love our randy-dandy.

On to the rugby date - which had absolutely nothing to do with rugby from what I could tell. It was more like a "Girls Gone Wild" video, British edition. Matt watches the girls literally wrestling in the mud and calls a spade a spade when he says, "People would pay money for this." (In fact, our Gov did, but I digress).

Back home, Shayne confides in Holly that she's freaking out about her upcoming one-on-one date and to alleviate the stress, she thinks she needs to tan. Little Holly "I'm all goodness and light with my children's book writing career" reveals that she brought a spray tanner. I don't mean the bottle you buy at the Clarins counter. I mean a power operated salon style airbrush tanner with backup generator. How did she get that on the plane? Continuing the "Girls Gone Wild" video theme, Shayne strips down and lets Holly spray her down. This is a remarkable leap of faith. Shayne, you are competing with this girl. It wouldn't take but a slight of the hand and you are an unflattering shade of orange. (Of course, she and her Agent could turn that into an opportunity, I'm sure)

Meanwhile, back on the rugby field, Marshana (who is looking more and more mannish to me, I'm sorry) is the winner of the "dramatic injury of the season" spot. Girls before her have pulled this off with much more panache, and she really comes away with nothing more than a fat lip. (Bevin got a watch and a spot in the final two out of that sprained ankle. I'm just saying.)

Matt and Kelly go into the locker room to see the trainer. Massages all around. Kelly hops up on Matt and takes over. God bless the ABC editors, they cue the porn music for this little interlude. Well played, Kelly. There's no way our horn-dog is sending you home after that maneuver.

Awkward moment of the night was at the post massage party while Amanda was trying to have some quality alone time with Matt. They talk about what kind of music they like. Good God. As though this self-conscious attempt at small talk wasn't awkward enough, Noelle and Christine mope over and just sit there. Everyone acts like they're at high noon tea. "How are you?" "We're fine, thank you. How are you?" "Very well, thank you."

Robin gets the rose, and the reactions shine a light on how banged up some of these girls are. Chelsea graciously points out, "I don't think Robin deserved the rose at all! I also wish that I got it and think that I should have gotten it because I deserved it!" All said with a threatening you're-going-down-style finger pointing that suggested she'll get the guys who unload the trucks at the Dairy Queen she works at to mess Robin up.

Kelly is even more banged up than Chelsea. She slurs out the comment of the evening: "Robin? I don't think that I would ever, in a million years - if I was a dude - want to date her. Never! Robin should go home and I should be here until the end, and I will. I think I should be number ONE!"

Terence: "This woman should be playing a heroin addict on a Law & Order episode."

On to the one-on-one Shayne date. First of all, it should be noted that Holly did an exceptional job with the tanner. And I loved watching Shayne stumble down the stone path in those ridiculous boots. But I'll admit, she's starting to grow on me. And then she drops the bomb. Her dad is Lorenzo Lamas. Holy cow. I did NOT see that coming. This explains everything. She tells Matt that her dad is well-known in America. Except that he's not. Unless it's 1983.

Matt explains he's concerned because she's only 22 and an actress. This may be true, but Shayne actually goes up in my book when she admits with no holds barred that she's high-maintenance. Gotta respect that she knows it and doesn't apologize. Matt recognizes it for what it is too and is hilarious when he says, "Sometimes I think this girl is a sandwich short of a picnic, and sometimes I think she's the greatest thing since sliced bread."

Back at the house, the Robin violent mania-thon meep fest was hilarious. I can't describe that one for you non-viewers, you just had to see it.

All of a sudden it's time for the pre-rose ceremony cocktail party and there is some chick named Kristine talking about the mood in the house. Who is this girl? I swear I have never seen her before. That is how I know she is going home tonight.

Chelsea's cleavage prompts Matt to tell her she rocks. The Dairy Queen Diva is going nowhere.

Speed talker Robin throws down some more violence. She points out that it's a race. She's going to do what it takes to win. It can't be a tie between two girls. Marriage doesn't work that way (although something tells me Matt would be up for that).

The rose ceremony begins.

Matt gives Amanda the first rose so he doesn't have to listen to her meeps.

The camera pans to Kristine and she has an "Oh crap, I'm going home" look on her face. Yes, honey. You're going home. Sorry. Take Amy and Erin with you.

Terry was psyched that Amy the nanny didn't get a rose because that means she's got free time now. He's already contacted her regarding the Baby Voltz job. No references required.

And finally, she's been wearing me down and wearing me down, and it became official once I saw that shoe collection after the credits. I love Shayne. We don't have the same style, but I love the fashionista in her. Did you see her in "scenes from the next" in those ridiculously huge sunglasses while everyone else is trying to look natural and outdoorsy? Love it. Matt is not serious about her, but she's good fun, and I hope he'll keep her around. At least until the hometown date so we can see him meet daddy. Lorenzo Lamas on The Bachelor? Pure entertainment...