I Do Math in This Post

While I should be working on a short story that's due for class tomorrow, I'm looking at houses for sale online, stalking my friends on Facebook and planning my graduation. I'm so productive. But seriously, school+work=no time for blogging. Or maybe I'm just lazy. You can figure that out, though. Maybe someday soon I'll be able to do a proper post again.

A moment That Changed Me

Do you ever have those moments where complete strangers can touch your heart, without even speaking to you? Yesterday I had one of those moments and I haven't been able to stop thinking about how deeply one particular family has affected my outlook. One of my many jobs at the moment is at a theme park. One of my favorite aspects of this job is being able to connect with a wide range of people on such a human level. Now, this connection usually happens by speaking with people about the world and how we all share it. But yesterday didn't even take words.

I've always admired the strength of parents and family who raise special needs children and care for their children long term, even into adulthood. And although I commend these parents from afar, we rarely seem to cross paths. Yesterday, as I was walking around the sea lion and seal exhibit discussing the animals with guests, I was stopped by the image of what initially looked like the perfect, all-American family. A salt and pepper dad wearing a comfortable polo shirt and a caring smile walked beside his wife, a trim, dark-haired woman with warm features and a gentle strand of pearls around her neck. The wife carried a tray of fish to feed the animals while the husband pushed their teenage son around in a wheelchair. The child, soon-to-be man, was a smiling boy with an arched back and a summery buzz haircut. For a moment I thought he almost looked out of place in this otherwise perfect family, until I saw his father help him out of the wheelchair and the boy slowly walked to the wall. The polo-clad man handed his son the tray of fish, and placed a hand on his back, just as a father would after a baseball game. The mother looked on as she directed a camera at the duo, smiling all the while, looking at her son the same way that my mother looked at me during my high school graduation. The son was so excited as he tossed each fish in. His joy was passed onto each of his parents as they watched their child in this small moment of accomplishment. As the family was caught in this moment of pure joy, I was entranced. My sunglasses definitely came in handy, as a single tear slid down my cheek. They looked so happy. So unbelievably, genuinely happy. I looked around at the other kids his age, captivated by their cell-phones and ipods, largely disconnected from their families, and felt a sense of longing and admiration for this family that displayed so much love. The world describes raising a special needs child as challenge; a feat only to be tackled by people with enough time and patience for the task at hand. Some people even think of it as a curse, asking "why me, God?" or "poor thing." But it's not. Having a family with that much love is a blessing that can only come from the appreciation of knowing how fine a treasure life is. The joy that this family emitted serves as a model after which I hope to someday build my own family after, and a powerful a reminder of the amazing impact we all have on each other, whether we realize it or not.

Decorative Jewelry

When Baba Sanfour and I moved in together after getting married, our apartment looked pretty ridiculous. We're talking a blank-walled bachelor pad with a futon in front of a wire wrack holding the TV. No coffee table, no dining table, nothing. It took us a while to collect enough furniture to transform our apartment into a home, but after exhausting yard sales and craigslist we were finally able to fill our place with furniture and move on to the best part of domesticity — decorating! Over the past two years I've been searching through thrift stores for items to decorate with. Finding inexpensive and creative solutions to decorating has been really fun. I've turned wedding cards into artwork, scrapbook paper into dining area wall art and an old bowl into a potpourri pot. I'm thrilled with my latest project, which simplified my jewelry collection as well as brought life and color to the walls of our bedroom. I got the idea here and am thrilled with the results.

I purchased a collection of frames from a local thrift store for about a dollar each and got a pad of scrapbook paper on sale at a craft store. After sanding and priming the frames I painted them gold and cut the paper to fit and fastened cabinet knobs that I had purchased at the hardware store. For the earring and hair accessory frames I simply attached ribbon across the paper before mounting the frames. If I were to do it over again, I'd buy larger frames to make sure all of the pieces fit nicely in the border, but overall I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Baba Sanfour even wanted to put the display in the living room.

Now, before you decide to break into my humble abode and steal all my well-displayed jewelry, just remember that it almost exclusively comes from the clearance section at Target. But seriously, this storage-solution wall art has been really helpful. I rarely wear jewelry simply because in my haste to get out the door I forget. But having everything in front of me has made it so much easier to just grab and go. I even rediscovered some long lost and forgotten necklaces! So, what diy projects have you done to improve your home?

My Father's Daughter

Well, I've neglected my blog long enough and after fighting with myself over whether or not to keep writing or just give it up, I've come to a conclusion. I really enjoy it, but without much of a following, I wasn't sure if it was worth the effort. I've decided that it is quite worth the effort, even if no one reads it. Writing can be therapeutic for many people, and sending my thoughts out into the universe via blogger not only helps me stay connected with my writing, but also the inner workings of myself as they relate to the daily events of my life.

Now, back to the blogging. My last post gave a little teaser about a mysterious trip. In May I went to the small Caribbean island of Grenada with my sister. I hope to recap that trip in a future post or two, but for now I want to write about something a bit more pressing on my heart. Last night as Baba Sanfour and I were driving home from eating out, we passed by an abandoned building that had once housed a "Ride the movies" attraction. For some reason this figure of the past took me back to a family trip to Tennessee in which we participated in a similar tourist trap. At the age of eight or nine it was wonderful, and I'm pretty sure the rest of the family loved it too - especially my dad. My father died when I was sixteen and I've come to terms with the events that led to his death and become a better person because of it. While I think of him in passing at least once a day, every now and again I get awfully nostalgic and can't help but feel as though a mocking bird is flittering in my heart, reminding me of the words that went unsaid during his life. As we drove past the old interactive theatre, the bird rose again and brought tears to my eyes, leaving Baba Sanfour more confused than normal at my feminine outbursts.

Today I thought of my father again and for some strange reason decided to look for his obituary online. After several Google searches I was left fruitless and distraught at the thought that my father was gone. Not just gone from the world, but gone from memory. After my mom, brothers, cousins and I are gone, my father will forever be just another man who walked the Earth. No one will remember him. No one will read his name and know what he did, or what he liked or where he went. It pains me to know that I can't ask him what he thinks, but it hurt me even more to know that the world will never know. The internet has become such an integral part of our lives that we almost expect to be able to learn about people by simply typing in a name. It scares me to think that my father is recollected only in the memory of our family.

But this recollection has inspired me in a new way. I want my father to live. Just like Simba learned in The Lion King, my father will live in me. I want people to know my father, the good and the bad, through me. I carry the baggage of a dysfunctional paternal relationship and my journey to overcome it and find peace with it everywhere I go. As I unpack the folded memories of deceit, treachery, fear, and love I learn more about myself and my father. I literally am a part of him and he is a part of me. And while his name may not produce anything of worth on a Google search, I carry it with a full heart and hope to fulfill the dreams that he helped to nourish. I remember Patrick Joseph Deveney. I am his legacy.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

I'm sitting in the airport awaiting my flight to a mystery destination. Well, it's not so much a mystery to me, or anyone really close to me. Any guesses?

After the semester ended Baba Sanfour and I made the trek up to Georgia to visit my family and spend mother's day with my mom. While we were there, Baba Sanfour attempted to start the dryer while I was out with a friend. I neglected to tell him, however, that the knob to start the dryer has a bit of a trick to it, as it broke a couple years back.

*ring ring ring* my phone sang to me, pleading for an answer.

"Hello?"

"Honey, The dryer is not working. Did I break it?"

"Oh, no. I forgot to tell you that it's broken. Just push it in and turn it to the right. You might have to twist it a few times. There's kind of a trick to it"

"I don't understand. Why didn't you tell me it's broken? Did I break it? I'm confused!"

"No, no. It's alright. Go ask Lucas (little brother) to help you. Im sure he knows how to do it."

"OK, bye."

*Ring Ring Ring*

"Hello?"

"It's broken! It's broken!"

"Don't worry about it, Honey. I will start it when I get home. Did you ask Lucas?"

"Yes, he doesn't know. The thing went inside the dryer. It's broken!"

"Ok, I'll look at it when I get home."

"I broke it, You're mom's gonna be mad at me!"

"No, she won't. I promise. I will call you when I'm on my way home."

"Ok, I love you."

*Ring Ring Ring*

"Hello?"

"Are you on your way home? When are you coming home? You have to fix it."

"Just try and twist the thing."

"No, no, it's broken. I need to call someone to fix it before your mom gets home!"

"Honey, it's okay. Just don't worry about it. We will hang the clothes to dry them when I get home."

"You have to come fix it."

"Alright, I will be back soon."

"Okay, see you then. Bye."

*Ring Ring Ring*

"Hello?"

"You have to come home. We have to fix it."

"Alright, alright, I'm coming"

"Thanks, bye. Love you."

"Love you too."

I got home to find an array of screw drivers and and other tools atop the decapitated robot that was the dryer, along with a husband distraught by the broken pieces of the machine. Lesson learned. Maybe we're not ready for our own house yet. We are way too comfortable with the maintenance staff at our apartment complex.

Traveling Through Morocco

A friend of mine posted a video from this family on their facebook page, and I thought I'd share one of my favorites. They have a collection of videos on their world travels and a complete set on Morocco. I'm fascinated and just might start falling even further behind on my homework as I get through all these videos. Enjoy!

You're Gonna Miss This

Lately I've had a bad case of what I like to call house and career fever. Baba Sanfour and I live in a one-bedroom apartment and are both working in retail while I'm in school and it's been getting to me lately. Most days I just want to fast forward to a few years from now when I'm out of school, no longer working long nights and weekend shifts and have more living space and a kitchen big enough for two people to comfortably stand in. I know Oprah's always telling me to live in the present (and I know I talk about Oprah like she's my best friend, but that's OK), but sometimes I just want to be a different place. That is, until I look back to the past and remember how badly I wanted to move forward, only to wish I could revisit those moments.

Tonight as I was doing some spring cleaning, I heard a message that I really needed. I almost always play music while I'm doing housework and as I was loading the washing machine, I heard the Trace Adkins song, "You're Gonna Miss This" playing in the background and I had to stop what I was doing, just to look around at our small apartment and smile. The furniture that we've collected from craigslist, the curtains that we constantly battle with, and the even the tiny galley kitchen where we cook our meals are so precious. I look back at my own childhood often and think about the house that my family grew up in and picture my family when we were whole. It was before we had all grown up. When my dad was alive and before any of us had even thought of marriage. It was modest and cramped, but it holds so many family treasures that it's priceless in my mind. I miss those times and I'm sure that my mom does even more. I'm in a place that she was in so many years ago, before she ever imagined how far life would take her three children and husband. Starting a new life with my husband has been a challenge, but one of the most rewarding difficulties that I've ever faced. I look back fondly at my family and look forward to what's to come. But between those two places, I'm perfectly happy with where we are now. Late work nights, homework and all. I know that someday soon I'm gonna miss this.

Balance

One of the most difficult things for me in my life right now is finding balance between work, school and home. And I'm pretty sure that just about everyone has this issue as we all try to work our busy schedules to allow for family time. I'm a full time student right now, which is challening enough as it is. But between finding time to spend with Baba Sanfour, work and trying to keep our home clean and cook a meal every once in while, I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed lately. Actually, just plain behind in everything. So, in other words: Life will resume after midterms. I hope.

The Stall Door

Last night I had dinner with my sister at a Disney hotel, and once again I have found proof that it's not possible to be negative at Disney World. Even the bathroom graffiti is happy. Written on the stall door in pencil was the phrase, "Disney Rocks!"

Potato Salad

Last night Baba Sanfour came home with a huge tub of potato salad. I'm loving his adoration of comfort food. He's practically a Georgia Boy. Today I'm surprising him with a shepherd's pie and I'm pretty sure he's going to love it!

Afternoon Date

Baba Sanfour and I have made it a bit of a tradition lately to spend Friday afternoon together as a date day. Yesterday he really wanted to go to the Oriental Seafood Buffet (he loves buffets), but I finally convinced him to go to a nice little Italian restaurant instead. We enjoyed a delicious lunch (and the most wonderful soup that I just can't stop thinking about) and then decided to spend the next hour at a place nearby called Fun Spot. It's basically a mini-carnival with a ferris wheel, go karts, bumper boats and cars, amongst other little attractions. We did some exhilarating laps on the go kart track. I was the first cart to take off and somehow by the end I was the last one in, much to the satisfaction of Baba Sanfour.

After our adventure on the twisty, multilevel track, we headed inside to the arcade where Baba Sanfour spotted a shining emblem of his childhood: the pinball machine. He Loves playing pinball. I first learned of his love of the game shortly after we were married when we happened upon a little arcade while walking around the cutesy downtown area of a local community. He was ecstatic, to say the least, and by the end of the day I was quarterless, but happy to see my husband so excited. Friday was no different as the arcade that we used to go to has since shut down and been converted into bakery for dog treats (which is a weird concept in my mind, but some people like that sort of thing, so there you go). His eyes gleamed with excitement as he rushed to exchange a dollar for tokens to feed the pinball machine. We played a few rounds of pinball and then competed in a game of skeeball before calling it a day. All in all it was a lovely little date and now I'm just waiting for the day we can buy a house big enough to hold our very own pinball machine.

Meatloaf

When Baba Sanfour and I first got married, I really didn't know how to cook. I went from living at home with my mom, to a college dorm, to being married. I could bake cookies, cakes and pies all day long, but that didn't help us out very much when it came time for dinner. Luckily, Baba Sanfour knew how to cook, as he'd been living on his own for a few years before we got married. He's actually pretty talented when it comes to cooking and has taught me a thing or two about it. I've seen my mom look into an empty cabinet and fridge and somehow produce a delicious dinner. I was shocked when I learned that Baba Sanfour could do the same thing. I couldn't let everyone in my life out stage me in the kitchen, so I finally decided that I'd have to set aside my brownie pan and figure out how to cook dinner.

I've tried tons recipes that I've found online and learned how to make several different American dishes and even a few Moroccan specialities. Baba Sanfour is generally pretty open about trying new foods, but he definitely enjoys the more exotic flavors of moroccan cuisine. So I was shocked when he absolutely adored the meatloaf that I made a few weeks ago. It doesn't get more American than meatloaf, so I was even more surprised when Baba Sanfour took a package of ground beef out of the freezer friday night and asked, "can you cook the thing you made last time?"

"Which one?" I asked.

"You know, that yummy thing you made."

"With ground beef?" I scratched my head, "What was it?"

"The thing with the cheese," he urged.

"Meatloaf?" I asked.

"That's it!"

I shrugged and told him that I'd be happy to, still a bit puzzled by his enthusiasm for the classic American dish. He never fails to surprised me. But that's just one more thing I love about him.

So Happy I Married an Optimist

My text to him: It's chilly today. I thought it was gonna be warm like yesterday.

His Response: Spring is coming soon just be patient!

We Went Bowling. Sort of.

Saturday night Baba Sanfour and I decided to go bowling. He's only ever been once and we've never gone bowling together. In preparation for our big night out I packed glittery colors onto my eyelids and donned the perfect bowling outfit while Baba Sanfour dabbed on his cologne and put on his jacket. We finally arrived at the bowling alley to find a gigantic line of people waiting at a collapsable table. After shifting through the crowd of people we finally discovered that the line was for some strange gambling-like bowling competition that the alley holds every Friday and Saturday night.

"So, what if we just want to do regular bowling?" I asked the obviously preoccupied woman at the desk.

"It already ended," she replied.

"So there's no way that we can just play a regular round of bowling?"

"No," she scowled.

Defeated, Baba Sanfour and I whimpered as we walked out the door of the bowling alley and back to the car.

"What do you wanna do?" He asked.

"I don't know. I just wish they had regular bowling," I sighed, "I've never been to a bowling alley that does this weird gambling thing. We don't have this in Georgia! Do you know of any other bowling alleys around?"

"I don't know."

We finally resolved to call 411 to find another bowling alley nearby. The operator gave us the phone number and address and called the bowling alley to get directions. We arrived at bowling alley number 2 at around 9:45 at night, only to be greeted by an exceptionally full parking lot. After hunting down a spot (I'm good at this- I work at the mall!) we jumped out of the car and scurried inside. We were initially impressed with the atmosphere. This alley was significantly cleaner and nicer looking than bowling alley number 1, and actually looked like a lot more fun. We stood in line at the counter only to learn that there was an hour wait for an open lane. At this point we were both ready to drop a bowling ball on our big toes.

We reevaluated once again and finally decided that we would stop by the movie theater. However, on the way to the theater we decided to stop at the drugstore, which led to a trip to the grocery store, which finally led to the movie rental shop, which eventually ended with us sitting on the couch watching a movie and eating cookies that we happened to get for free at the grocery store because they were price marked incorrectly. Whew! So, date night didn't quite end up where we expected, but at least it was an adventure getting there!

Baba Sanfour

My husband's nickname for this blog came about quite surprisingly. Since he is from Morocco and our cultures are so different, we are always excited to find commonalities from childhood that we can relate to. While my husband didn't grow up on as many Disney movies as I did, we did watch some of the same television shows, like Scooby Doo and Tom and Jerry. One night, after reminiscing with an American friend about the old show, David the Gnome, I decided to ask my husband if had ever seen it. Well, that didn't work out so well as I found myself trying to describe what a gnome is, which is actually quiet difficult.

After stumbling over my explanation of gnome, my husband explaimed, "Baba Sanfour?!?"

"I don't now. Is that what it's called?" I asked.

"Yes, yes," he said with twinkling eyes as he reminisced about his childhood.

The next day I decided to further investigate Baba Sanfour with a quick google search. I pulled up a picture and leaned over to my husband and asked if the little blue cartoon was indeed the Baba Sanfour that he was talking about.

"Baba Sanfour!" he pointed to the computer screen and smiled.

"Oh," I said, "That's not David the gnome. That's Papa Smurf."

"Papa Smurf?" he asked, "You mean you guys stole Baba Sanfour from us?"

"No!" I winced defensively, "I think Morocco stole it from us!"

Well, it turns out the original idea for Papa Smurf, or Baba Sanfour, came from a comic from Belgium. But despite his origins, Baba Sanfour has definitely given us both something to smile about as we relate our childhood lives to each other. And we can't wait to see the new Smurf movie coming out later this year!

Don't Freeze the Cream Cheese

Since we've been married, Baba Sanfour and I have learned several lessons about life. For instance, last year we learned how to turn off the water in our apartment after about 20 minutes of frantically screaming and scooping up water as our kitchen flooded when the hot water heater busted. Two weeks ago I learned to always make sure that the stove burners are off after melting a huge plastic bag filled with shredded cheese. And yesterday we learned that freezing cream cheese is not the best idea. After a bulk grocery adventure, we decided to put the extra packs of cream cheese in the freezer to save for later. Well, later came and now we have cream cheese that resembled snow powder. It's still edible, but I make quite a mess in the morning when I'm trying to spread powder cheese on to my bagel before rushing out the door to get to school.

Buying in Bulk

Baba Sanfour recently discovered the advantages of buying in bulk at our local food club. Growing up, my family of five used to make an entire afternoon of shopping for industrial-sized groceries. While we were there we'd check out the tables of folded clothes, explore the aisles of television sets and other electronics, but most notably, beg our parents for a gigantic box of cookies, all before finding our dad stocking up on Santa-sized sacks of chocolate bars in the candy aisle. We'de usually finish off the occasion with a slice or two of Pizza that awaited us just beyond the checkout. Now Baba Sanfour and I have carried on this great tradition with slightly more moderation. And since there're only two of us living in our small apartment, our bulk purchases can be a bit troublesome. I've tried fitting 100 rolls of toilet paper under our bathroom sink, only to find that less than a quarter will fit. We've struggled to figure out where to put the seven other packs of cream cheese, turkey and sliced cheese and still have room in the fridge for milk. And our kitchen sink is well supported by the Swiffer pads and trash bags that are stacked in the cabinets. But at least we'll be prepared for shopping for a family someday, right?

Our First House

Baba Sanfour and I decided to build a gingerbread house on Sunday night. It was his first time building one and I could tell he was excited about the prospect of an edible home. I even told him the story of Hansel and Gretel to further enhance our gingerbread experience. Before we began he leaned over and asked with a grin, "Do you have a license? You have to have a special license to build a house, you know."

Looking back on the results, I think he was right. We are two adults, and this was the product of our gingerbread building and decorating skills put into action. Oh, and Baba Sanfour did the side with the waves. A very creative move on his part.

Seeing Ourselves

Yesterday was my first day back at school after the winter break. I balance between school and a retail job, which definitely makes things interesting, especially since we cater mostly to tourists. I wasn't really looking forward to working all that much last night, but I'm so glad that I did. I've had the opportunity to interact with so many different families from around the world and I've just about seen it all. From the kind, considerate and familiar to the rude, disgusting and even scary. But last night left me loving my job as a nine year old girl from Mexico and her father walked into our store, distraught by the lack of options for clothes for her to wear. She was nine, but she was wearing a size 14 in kids clothing, which is generally reserved for older girls (although I think it's quite normal for children to be wearing larger sizes this day and age). They walked around the store for a few minutes, selecting clothes, when she finally walked up to me and bravely asked for a fitting room. I was amazed by her humble confidence. She had been learning English from her dad and was doing a great job! I'm often intimidated to use the Spanish that I've learned in school for fear embarrassment, but this little girl pushed through those fears and stole my heart at the same time.

While she was trying on outfits, her father pulled me aside to tell me what a hard time she's been having because of her size. She was tall and healthy and yet felt so different from the other kids at school because she couldn't fit into the same size clothes as everyone else and had a slightly fuller middle. My heart sank as he explained this to me as I went through the exact same anxiety as a child. I was taller than the other kids, but also much more chubby. I was trying to find clothes in my mom's closet in elementary school because kids clothes didn't fit me anymore. I've since gotten over these issues, but still carry the weight (no pun intended) of that insecurity into adulthood. I saw her come out with a look of pure joy when one top fit and then a look of devastating disappointment when the pants didn't. I saw so much of myself in that bright little girl, who so sweetly spoke to me in a language she was still struggling to master. I quickly reevaluated and found some different options that would be more comfortable for her to wear and her reaction made me so happy to be there to serve her. The smile on her face as she looked at herself in the mirror and then at her father was contagious and I couldn't help but feel triumphant with her.

For the few minutes that this family was in my life, I was able to learn so much. As people I think we often downplay our role in society. I've found myself so many times saying that I can't wait until I graduate and find a better job where I can really contribute to people in a meaningful way. But last night taught me how everyone, despite how insignificant our positions may seem, can make an impact on others, simply by relating our human experiences. For a few moments I was able to look back and see myself in that little girl. What a joy it is to discover the lessons that the world has to offer, and an even greater joy to share them with children

Pumpkins and Snowmen

I love living in Florida because of the weather. Although the last two winters have been rather cold, I can still appreciate the more tropical climate. However, I do sometimes miss the seasons that Atlanta provided, especially fall. A few months ago I was pining for a trip to the pumpkin patch and a pumpkin to sit in my living room and remind me of fall. One night as Baba Sanfour and I were at home together I looked up at the clock and exclaimed, "It's 11:11, make a wish!"

Baba Sanfour popped his head out from the other room and smiled, "I wish for pumpkins."

"Oh, me too," I sighed, "Can we go to the pumpkin patch?"

"You want to go to the pumpkin patch?"

I pouted in hopes of a promise to the pumpkin patch when all of a sudden he declared "Look, our wish came true!" as he walked into the living room holding three little pumpkins. My eyes lit up and my jaw dropped.

This was truly one of the sweetest things that Baba Sanfour has ever done for me. It was simple, but really meant that he had been listening to me. And whenever I get frustrated or upset, I just think about the pumpkins and it makes everything better. With these three little pumpkins bringing so much joy into my life for the fall, I decided to turn them into a wintery centerpiece yesterday.

And thus, my pumpkins transformed into...drumroll please...a snowman! and with all the wintery weather in my home state of Georgia lately, he seems very appropriate.

Oprah Speaks Spanish

For about the first year and a half of our marriage Baba Sanfour and I went without television. Our apartment complex doesn't offer basic services and we couldn't afford cable or satellite, so we lived disconnected from televised news, sitcoms and most devastatingly, "The Oprah Winfrey Show." We still can't bring ourselves to add the expense of cable, but on New Years Eve Baba Sanfour set up a beautiful little antenna that's mounted on our patio and runs a wire into our apartment, offering about about 40 or so channels. Although half of those channels are either religious and Spanish language, the one that I was most excited about was ABC. As he was setting up the antenna I quickly ran through my schedule for the week and determined that I would be able to watch "Oprah" four out of five days of the next week.

Monday came and I waited anxiously until 4:00 when I ran to the TV and flipped through the channels until I reached the magic number, channel 9. As it sunk in my eyes glossed over with amazed disappointment and confusion. Oprah was talking about O.J. Simpson in Spanish. While I was frustrated that I couldn't hear the Oprah that I know and love, I was quite surprised that the interpreter's voice had an uncanny resemblance to Oprah's poignant, booming sound. I finally determined that the strange phenomenon must be related to the birds that have been falling out of the sky. That is, until I discovered the SAP button on the remote.