I’ll update on Nate as I can. See you soon.

“It’s been ten years since we visited here.” Here means our house in Cooperstown and, yes, it was a decade ago that we took our first trip to our new house on Chestnut St., a house that was going to be our eventual home once Nate, then in sixth grade, reached high school. After a few days in Cooperstown, and then a full week one month later during Spring Break, we decided to move sooner than later. How soon? From the moment of decision to the moment of arrival, it was about two months. By June 2003 I had quit my job, we sold our house and we were out of Illinois and in Cooperstown.

I gave Nate that quick recap and he said, “That was not good” and I know what he means. We all still miss Chicago in our own ways, but Nate suffers most of all. It makes sense on many levels. Nate only recently crossed the threshold of living half his life in Cooperstown. Robbie’s been here exactly 50% of is years, Joey’s been here more than that. And Nate has the strongest connection to the trappings of our former life – the house, the stores, the restaurants.

I attempted to explain the goods and the bads of our move, but I’m not certain Nate sees the goods in the same way I do. Case in point, yesterday’s meeting, when Professor Lauber, Doug Miller, Karen, Nate and sat and discussed Alpha Folks.

Alpha Folks is Nate’s soon to come t-shirt company based on his alphabet faces (you can find them in past posts and on Facebook). We all got busy and, though I’d hoped for a rollout last fall, we’re probably good to unveil the line this year. What we need is ready-to-go graphics and that’s been the hang up. Though Nate has Adobe skills, they’re not fine-tuned enough to go it alone. Or so I thought.

Having Lauber in the house was a godsend. She worked through some tweaks but then got straight to teaching. Nate, grudgingly, and with audible resistance, finally sat down at the kitchen table and Lauber showed him how to improve his work. Once he got the hang of it, he churned out product at lightning speed. While we still have nearly 1/3 of the letters to go, Nate now knows how to do it and what would take all of us months to finish he’ll knock out by the end of the week. My goal is to have Alpha Folks shirts ready by summer to sell at his art show at The Smithy in Cooperstown.

That’s the good Nate doesn’t get. Moving to Cooperstown allowed me to spend more time with him, get him to college, graduate, and start his career in art and design. To him, it’s all homework and annoyance. To me, it’s nearly impossible to believe. And all in a mere ten years.

This week we took Joey to Ithaca College and SUNY-Purchase. Nate was happy to set out on these new adventures. He’s been to Ithaca many times, so he was less interested in the city, but the tour was thorough and he took a lot of bathroom photos. Purchase was something else, a completely new destination.

For Joey, Purchase was the big winner. He was very happy there and that’s most important. For Nate, it was frustrating. Due to the conservatory nature of the school, we didn’t get a chance to go into many of the buildings. It was a big audition day for dancers and musicians. Also, though Nate loves construction, the amount going on at Purchase precluded us from entering even more buildings. But Nate hung in there, getting to visit seven new bathrooms.

And he was somewhat involved in the tour. When the guide asked “Who here is a senior?” Nate said “I’m a senior.” I heard him (we were pretty far back) and told him “You’ve already graduated from college.” “I’m a post-graduate senior,” he countered.

Nate seemed to be pleased with the day. We could tell because he was very funny. On the ride there he said, “Dad, I have a joke for you.”

“What is it Nate?” I asked. He makes up jokes a lot, usually ones that are funny to him.

“What goes blaaah blaaah blaah?”

He didn’t wait for me to guess.

“A sick sheep or a sick sheep who read Joey’s space book.” The first part is funny on its own, but when you know that years ago Nate ruined a book on the solar system that Joey made on the computer, replacing the original text with page after page of “blah blah blahs,” the joke gets really funny. Not to Joey though, even after all these years.

On the way home, we passed a bar called The Shamrock, in East Durham, part of the Irish Catskills. The parking lot was packed.

“I hope they get blind drunk in there!”

Karen and I cracked up. Are cultural stereotypes so strong that he saw the neon shamrock and assumed Irish people were getting liquored up? Did he notice the beer logos? We tried to get him to explain why he said what he did, but we got nothing back.

Nate always surprises us with the things he knows. We’re so conditioned to accept that he has his fields of expertise – cartoons, bathrooms, movies – that we’re unaware of the entirety of his pop culture knowledge. When we listen to the radio and hit on a song Nate likes, he always says “This is a great song” or “This is a classic, right?” He loves the ‘80’s, which is often hit or miss with us. When Culture Club came on, Nate said “This is a great song.”

“Yes it is Nate,” I answered, probably to the surprise of Karen and Joey.

When Nate started singing “Comma Comma Comma Comma” to “Karma Chameleon,” way before the chorus came on, we were floored.

“How do you know this song?” I asked.

“It’s in Scary Movie 4.”

It was a good day all around, the beginning (maybe) of Joey’s future and the continuation of fun with Nate.

Each job coach talked about their experiences with Nate, his strengths and his weaknesses. Then talk turned more serious – what do we do next? It came down to how we saw Nate’s future, how to take his skills as a college graduate and an overall smart guy and turn that into a proper job placement. Problem is this county is very small and opportunities for a kid like Nate in the job he belongs are rare.

I’m never sure when, and how much, I should weigh in. At least at first. That wasn’t the case when Nate was little, but now that he’s 22, I expect that he is supposed to carry the ball. He can’t though. At the meeting he played with his iPad and almost never paid attention. His answers – “It’s OK,” “Sometimes” –were always unhelpful, general and vague. I stepped in.

Karen and I were told, very early on in Nate’s life, that no one would ever be as strong an advocate for Nate as his parents. At this meeting, I spoke strongly about my hopes for Nate, that somewhere there was the right fit for him, that he needed a mentor who would relish Nate’s strengths and gloss over his weaknesses. In that special place, Nate would do work that suited his skillset – computer work, design projects –and he would be as productive, if not more so, than the average worker.

Frequent readers have heard about Nate’s job project at our local hospital, Bassett Healthcare. During his senior year in high school, Nate spent one hour per week in their print department, working on the computer and learning how to behave. From session one, where he had to learn to keep personal space and not to pick his nose and then use the keyboard, Nate evolved into a terrific worker, his distractions never keeping him from completing all the work assigned and, in fact, Nate’s computer proficiency resulted in his teaching the full timers short cuts on the keyboard that increased their productivity. It was a major success and Nate received a glowing job recommendation.

I told this story to the group and, thankfully, there was a file with all this information. The Community Employment Coordinator knew where to find it and read the letter aloud. It was as effusive and enthusiastic as I remembered. Everything clicked from that point onward. There was a real sense of purpose when it came to planning for Nate. We adjourned after an hour with everyone ready to explore their possible connections so we could get Nate in a suitable situation.

One of the job coaches said to me, “Are you a used car salesman? You really sold Nate.” Another sent me this: “Your special relationship with him is impressive. I am not sure we will ever find a better advocate for Nate than you. I believe we all look forward to searching and finding the best possible job match for him.”

The meeting reaffirmed that we are the strongest voice in support of Nate. It was true 19 years ago and it’s true now – there’s no one who will advocate better for him than his parents. And that’s not just a reminder for us. It’s a reminder for you too.

“To my surprise, and before I had to ask him again, he got to work. There he was, at the kitchen table, reworking some ideas to include the hedge fund and coming up with a new design for Orland Square. It’s an amazing sign of growth that Nate was able to get himself to work on an assignment.” That’s what I wrote. When I checked in later to see his work, I was shocked to see the most half-assed drawings, both obviously rushed attempt at filling orders he couldn’t care less about.

“Nate, these are not good,” I said when I saw the small sized, rush job pictures, devoid of Nate’s signature bits – toilet blueprints, insets of the “before” look at a particular store, etc.

“They’re fine!” he protested.

“They are not what people expect. They expect to get one of your regular works, either a one page drawing or two pages. If you want people to pay you money, then you have to do a good job.”

We seemed to hit a wall. Things looked bleak until Nate took a mall in progress and added my friend’s hedge fund, Lowercase Capital, in the collection of storefronts. Their official logo looked great nestled between an AT&T store and a Gino’s East pizzeria. Sure, Nate dropped it into Northfield, not Evanston, but close enough if you take the Edens. It met with solid approval from the customer. Sale number one.

Two days ago I got a message on Etsy, from a complete stranger who’d gone through Nate’s shop StripMallArt.

Nate,

I was curious if you did commissioned work. My boyfriend grew up in the neighborhood near the McDonald’s on Rand Rd. and Ela Rd. in Lake Zurich, Illinois, and he worked at the Target next door in high school. I love your work and would think it would be a great reminder of where he grew up. Let me know either way.

Someone complete outside Nate’s orbit found him, got him and wanted a specific picture. I talked it over with Nate and he agreed.

By the next day, Nate was bought in on the concept of drawing to order, and he worked all day on the Lake Zurich piece. I sent it along to the buyer, who was thrilled by it. Sale number two.

He also turned his attention to reworking Orland Square. On the back of the new, more developed work, he taped his first simpler version. It became a unique piece with original art on both sides. The client loved it. Sale number three.

As often happens, something clicked and Nate changed. He’s always been good at applying what he eventually learns and adapting it to any situation. Now, any custom pieces will be met by a willing and happy artist who knows how to satisfy a hopefully growing group of patrons. And, when he reports for work at the houses he’s helping renovate, he’s a much better worker with his new found wisdom: keeping the customer satisfied is the key to success.

I just dropped Nate off at his job. Yeah, that’s right, his job. For weeks now Nate has been working on a house renovation project. He’s having a great time; his HGTV shows have come to life and he’s right in the middle of it. He has obsessed about house renovations and rehab projects ever since he was a little boy. We always thought if he were to work he’d work in the housing world and be very happy doing it.

A friend of ours who designs houses bought two homes right on the Cooperstown border and she’s gutting them. Knowing that Nate had a strong interest in such things, she asked him if he’d like to help. Of course he did. Now, several days each week he gets dropped off for work. He’s working for free, an intern really, learning the ropes of construction and being part of a team.

Everything seems to be going well. That boy is a hard worker and when he gets home he’s filled with stories of his day, how he helped put in a new window, how he helped pull floorboards up, and so on. I picked him up one day and he smelled of fresh wood shavings.

Getting him to be ready has been relatively easy. Nate and I went to Wal-Mart and he picked out strong work boots, a menacing pair of black shoes with a thick sole and composite toe (he was not interested in the steel toed selection. Once he decides, he’s decided). Today he put them on for the first time.

As he dawdled tying his shoes while changing the channels to check his shows, I explained to Nate that a good worker arrives on time. Fortunately, we live in Cooperstown so everything is minutes away. Finally he was done, his work jacket on, ready to leave.

“You look like a man,” Karen told him.

And he did. There was a sense of transformation. Nate, set for a day on the job, looked as serious and adult as Nate gets. Sure, he had a few of his cartoon themed documents in hand, and his iPad, but he still looked like a legitimate working man.

I got him to the job site a few minutes late. Once there, Nate wanted to check out the big house first.

“Are you supposed to report to the little house?” I asked.

“Alright, alright!” he replied, knowing I was right. And, to my surprise, without a complaint he got out of the car and walked to the smaller house, opened the screen door, and entered.

That’s it. He’s got his stuff, his phone and Karen will bring him lunch later. He’ll call when he’s ready to get picked up. It’s pretty cool – Nate Katz, living his dream.

As we strive in earnest to make Nate more independent, Nate kicks back, sometimes seriously, sometimes not. His usual grumbling as a first response to any request is easily broken down into real opposition and knee-jerk negativity quickly conquered. When I told him to come do the laundry with me, he was displeased, itching for an argument.

I could hear his growling as he approached the laundry room, and when I saw him enter, arms crossed, face scowling, I thought he’d put up a fight. He did come though, a good sign that he’d help. I explained how to separate darks from whites. We started with the darks and I demonstrated how much detergent to put in. Nate pressed all the buttons and we were done.

“I told you it was easy,” I said. He left without a word.

When I called him back to move the wet clothes to the dryer, he argued a little but did it. I don’t’ think he liked handling the damp piles, but he made the best of it. It was a good start and something to build on.

Later that night, with Karen in New York, we were scrambling for dinner ideas. The leftover pasta and meatballs were distasteful to Nate. Leftovers are only acceptable for a single day and then they gross him out.

“I think I’ll get my pizza at 5:30.”

“OK Nate.” I was on a tight schedule and wasn’t sure how I could get him to the pizzeria and back and still do what I needed to before I headed to a Village meeting. “Do you want to go yourself or do you want me or Joey to go with you?”

“I’ll go myself,” he said with firmness. He was adamant. I was a little concerned because 5:30 is usually a busy time at New York Pizzeria and I wasn’t sure Nate could handle himself in a crowded restaurant. But, if we’re going to get him as independent as possible, he’s got to learn to handle different situations. So, off he went, wallet and phone in pocket, and before I knew it, I heard the back door shut and he was back with his food. Well done!

Creating a career for Nate as an artist also involves crafting a sense of personal responsibility, but in a much less concrete way. It’s not simply “go to the store, pick out your food, pay for it and come right home.” Concepts like customer service, creating art to sell, accommodating requests for changes and revisions – these are very difficult for Nate.

To a large degree he is the purest of artists. He makes what he feels; he doesn’t take orders! However, part of him wants to sell his art, mostly to make money for bathroom renovations. For weeks I’ve been asking him to create a storefront with the logo of a friend’s hedge fund. Man, you‘d think I’d asked Nate to cut off his arm.

“I don’t want to!” was the strongest response. “I’ll do that sometime next week,” was the weakest, though that always means “I’ll never do it but maybe you’ll stop asking if I tell you I will do it at some future time.” I’m on to him.

A doctor came by last week to check out Nate’s strip malls. This doc is from Orland Park, a Chicago suburb, and he loves that Nate draws malls from the area.

“Nate, if draw Orland Square Mall I’ll buy it,” he said. Of course Nate was non-committal, but I decided I wouldn’t give up on these two possible commissions.

“Nate, if you draw Orland Square and lowercase Capital, you’ll get money for your bathroom.” He seemed slightly more agreeable but I put it on my calendar to remind me again in a week’s time. This would take some time to get done.

To my surprise, and before I had to ask him again, he got to work. There he was, at the kitchen table, reworking some ideas to include the hedge fund and coming up with a new design for Orland Square. It’s an amazing sign of growth that Nate was able to get himself to work on an assignment.

The times are certainly a-changin’ around here.

There’s gonna come that time, further on up the road, where Nate is going to be without his parents. Karen and I think about it abstractly, but the film made me focus on where we are and how much we are preparing him for that eventuality. Could Nate live alone? As I went through a long laundry list of tasks he’d need to learn (including laundry), I felt that, yes, perhaps, he really could. Waking up, preparing his meals, shopping, communicating with people – all those things are there or very near. Could he pay his bills? Hmm, that’s a toughie and he may always need someone around to oversee his financial affairs.

A few signs of improvement this week gave me additional hope. I was at the gym with my phone’s ringer off and, when I got home, I saw that Nate had called. Now Nate usually doesn’t put his phone on, let alone make a call out. But he did, and I missed it. He still needs a little work. Nate doesn’t get the voice mail part, so he ends up thinking he’s got someone on the line.

“Oh, hi Dad…(pause)…Oh, hi Dad…(pause)…arraagghh!” That was the message he left.

He also called his aide yesterday. First going through the same process as above, but then, after I prompted him and he was ready to leave a message, he got through. I heard him, and her on speaker, and he did very well.

Nate’s further efforts to reach out were evident on Facebook. He loves Maverick Software’s food apps, where he makes various virtual dishes. Nate consistently contributes to Maverick’s FB page, so much so that people think he works there. Read this:

Jane Doe: Help! Double rainbow achievement in More Snow Cones… we can’t get it! We’ve tried using the rainbow cup and using all the colors on the cup, but it’s not working. Please help.

Nate Katz: Try using a sno-cone with the cherry, banana, green apple, blue raspberry, and grape syrups in a rainbow cone, okay?

Jane Doe: That worked! Thanks, you rock, my kids have been going crazy on that one.

Nate Katz, coming to the aid of those in need! Amazing.

We were in the car together yesterday and I asked Nate if he thought he could live alone at some point. Usually he would kick at this very idea, but he went with it. As I ran through a list of activities we should work on, he seemed to buy into the idea. Later in the day Robbie and I were talking about Nate’s future and, though we’ve never told the other boys that Nate was their responsibility, Rob soothed me by saying they’d never leave Nate out on his own.

That was wonderful to hear, but, still, we as his parents need to get Nate in a better position to take care of himself. It’s up to us to push him forward. Time to get to work in earnest and get that boy prepared for the future.

“Nate, could you write a couple of paragraphs about your Hannaford’s job?”

“Aaarrgghhh!,” he said.

“No, it’ll be easy. Just two paragraphs on the things you did, what you thought of the job, some details.”

“Grumble grumble grumble.”

“It’ll take 5 minutes.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll do it!” And he did.

Two weeks ago, I got a test job at Hannafords with an older man named Jim.  For my first day here (1/4/2013), I started putting everything in the bags, including the cold and heavy stuff.  The next day (11/11/2013), I started storing everything, putting the shopping carts inside and next to the store’s entrances, and learned about expiration dates of the produce and dairy foods.

Today was my last day working at Hannafords.  First of all, I bagged everything and sorted every food correctly.  Then, I stored more foods and put the right food in its aisle, and put the carts back in the store.  After that, I took a lunch break at Taco Bell, and then I put more carts inside and learned about expiration dates again.  It was really fun working here!

So that’s it. Nate done with his job assessment. Three weeks each at SUNY-Oneonta, the Mamco factory and Hannaford. Now what?

This morning Nate went out for the second of three sessions at his latest job training site: Hannaford’s Supermarket. Remember when I said we didn’t want Nate packing grocery bags, that that was the last thing we wanted for him, that he is a college graduate with great skills and doesn’t need to be doing just anything to be out in the work place? Remember all that?

Last week, Nate packed grocery bags. In fact, Karen saw him at work and he seemed to be doing well. The truth is he likes this sort of thing and loves being in a store. I’m beginning to think this is similar to when Nate took math in 8^th grade. In his last year in Illinois, Nate took algebra. In his first year in Cooperstown, he took the same course. I assumed that was because we moved to another state and there was likely an overlap of instruction. When, for the third year in a row he ended up with a nearly identical curriculum, I bristled and called the school to complain.

What I realized in mid-tizzy was that my hopes for Nate were very much wrapped into my success as a student and in math. What Nate needed was very different from what I needed, and I learned to reassess him outside of my personal experience. That’s what I’m learning with these jobs he’s been on. I don’t see Nate as someone who is suited to cleaning tables in a college cafeteria, or working at a factory or bagging food, but he seems to genuinely enjoy the tasks and the assessments are pretty good overall. Plus, he’s learning things like keeping an eye on the clock to know when break time is over, and how to better converse with co-workers.

So I’m going through a change on this. Maybe having him out in the world doing anything does have its merits. Still, as I list more of his art and wait to move ahead on Alpha Folks, it’s a jarring contradiction to think of Nate the artist as Nate the bag stuffer.