Heroes Attack

Luke & Dad's Fifth Year and a Half

A horde of alien robots has colonized your bedroom. They’re formed up in two neat rows on a wooden chest, waiting at attention for the commands of Mr. Makuru, the chief architect of Makuhero City where the machines originate, a leader that masquerades as an earthbound six-year-old.

The robotic heroes are pledged to uphold peace and prosperity for the universe, but they look menacing to me. The automatons stand watch over a mess of clothes and toys whose disorder stands in stark contrast to the robots’ orderly phalanx. But don’t be fooled, in chaos there is order; everything in that room has its place apparently. I pity the soul that dares move anything. 

That is, if you can make it in. Ever since the invasion, the entry to the robot sanctorum is a portal sealed. Wayward humans, particularly those greater or less than six years old, are restricted access. Mr. Makuru protects his minions. Enforcement of the “keep out” practice is a new phenomenon, one I’m not thrilled with since I paid for the hardwood within those bounds. But that hasn't been as bad as this:

"Dad, Lego Hero Factory is cooler than Lord of the Rings." 

Blasphemy!

Your Hero Factory robot "addiction" (your word, not mine) does have a wonderful side effect: igniting your entrepreneurial spirit. Early this fall, you decided to make some coin by writing and illustrating a book about these mechanical creatures. The inspiration to write, a task you normally adroitly avoid, says a lot about your passion for these characters.

You slapped on a 50¢ price, took over our color copier/scanner and turned into a salesman. You sold copies to my mom, the Kramers, a plumber and our painters among others. You learned that the first book is the most expensive to develop but that copies are near free -- the economic cornerstone of software economics too! 

I bought a copy. Here is the work:

Heros Attack by Luke Weller   50¢

When the Heros were in their hideout, the Heros saw the bad guys. The Heros fought and fought.

The Heros won. When the bad guys were in their hideout, they were plotting their next move.

The bad guys figured out their next move. They built a robot. When the Heros returned, the robot zapped them with its laser beam. The Heros destroyed the robot. Hurray for the Heros!

Since creating this piece, the quality of your writing has vastly improved. Rachel has been a big part of the reason, but I recently uncovered another source of motivation during a River School field trip.

I drove you and a little girl named Sophie XXXX to a DC aquarium specializing in indigenous fish species. I noticed immediately that you acted, well, older around Sophie. Evaporated were the antics you normally engage in with, say, Charlie McGruder where I am an target to harass. 

This time I was a source of infinite embarrassment. A Sherlockian observer would've put things together but your dense father only figured it out later when you asked one too many questions about girls. 

Luke, you have your first crush! And, surprise, Sophie is the best writer in the class.

Love,

Dad

Kaizen

Luke & Dad's Fifth Year and a Quarter

When I was growing up in the eighties, the American auto industry was under siege by Japanese manufacturers. The press proclaimed the end of U.S. innovation leadership. Japanese cars were cheaper, better made, and after years of comfortable dominance, the U.S. was caught sitting on its hands.

I've since investigated the source of the innovation culture in Japan. I learned Japan's "technical superiority" had little to do with their success. Instead, the Japanese created a novel approach to manufacturing called Kaizen which means “change for the better."

Instead of treating line workers as brainless robots, the empowered them to innovate the manufacturing process. It made all the difference. Core to Kaizen was problem solving method called "5 Whys." Ask "why" to a problem five successive times and you drill down to the root cause.

Children practice Kaizen too. Some, like you, more rigorously. I call it Kaizenathon or "50 Whys." It's sometimes hard to be patient during these intensive interrogations. A line of questioning can last hours and you have a habit of starting these right before bed! Nonetheless, it is a blessing to witness your mind making connections that make up a web of knowledge.

Sometimes I'm stumped.

Not all knowledge is accessed through bridges. Some ideas are islands unto themselves. Those are particularly hard to explain by fathers.

This fall, we made the tough decision to switch from Aiden Montessori to The River School. The reason was simple: Rachel and I felt a smaller class size would better engage Cashy and you. We didn't want the two of you lost in a sea of twenty children. River is also in the Palisades, within walking distance. We like feeling close to you guys! Nonetheless, its was a painful decision because we liked the Montessori approach and our friends there.

At The River School, you are in the "Beaver" class and you have three teachers: Mrs. Insley, Ms. Kim, and Ms. Brown. Your best friend is another blonde boy named Charlie Magruder. Apparently you two tear it up.

To give you a sense of the enthusiasm you have for River School, on Halloween you demanded to dress as a beaver (see roundup above). Rachel and I obliged of course and how could we not? More fun pictures for your wedding day!

Love,

Daddy