Tag: kids

Santa Claus or am I really baby Jesus?

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christmas vacation

Ah the tinsel, the lights, Christmas music flowing from every car, coffee shop and grocery store around; People buzzing about trying to find the perfect gift for that special someone. The season is here, like it or not, we are enveloped in the Christmas season, may joy and laughter fill the air.

Sooooo on the topic of gifts let’s just take a moment to recognize the mangermain man by saying thank you baby Jesus, cute little baby Jesus all cuddly and snuggly in his precious little wool wrap, perfect in his Jesus like way. For if wasn’t for your birth on that magical manger morning sire, three wise men/kings wouldn’t have traveled from afar (really afar?) to bestow three (Super Lotto of the period) wonderful gifts of Gold, Muir and Frankincense! Whew, HELLLLOOOOO; can you say JACKPOT!!!! Cha-Ching!!

What’s that my little snow angels? Santa is the sole reason we receive gifts on Christmas you say? Not the baby Jesus you say! Well myimagesCAI541T4 misguided little peppermint elves how wrong you are! The jolly red man wasn’t always jolly and he certainly wasn’t always fat! He was a man like any other, only he did what any good christian would do, stole the concept from religions much cherished three wise men! Seeing a definite need (oh yes his heart was in the right place) he practiced giving (gifts, shoes, dowry’s, food etc..) for a while selling the image santaof nobility to the masses. Eventually he was sainted and became forever known as St. Nicholas! Flash forward 1,669 years, St. Nicholas’ image has passed from generation to generation evolving into the much celebrated fat man in a red costume, driving a sleigh pulled by eight tiny reindeer! No really they are tiny! You would think they were huge with all those gifts and all but really they are tiny!rudy

Upon seeing positive results within multiple test markets (Poland, Turkey, the Netherlands) the idea of a St. Nick or Santa Claus was marketed to the right folks, obtaining copy writes to his likeness and catchphrases then sold, sold, sold and sold again slowly evolving into the much celebrated fat man in a red costume, atop a shiny red sleigh! Happy picture huh?

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                                         Wrong sleigh… or not?

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There we go that’s better….

Not being the greatest of mathematicians, I took it upon myself using the internet, ABC NEWS, and a few simple formulas to help me determine the sleigh was obviously developed by aliens or possibly held in captivity at Area 51 until our government could extract the compounds used to make this bitch fly! You see, Santa’s sleigh needssantas sleigh to travel 175 million miles in just under 31 hours (time/Dateline, staying under the cover of darkness and all), Santa himself needs to visit 1,178 homes per second-every second of those 31 hours.  That means when the “big” man arrives he has just 8/100,000ths of a second to park the sleigh, shimmy down the chimney, stuff the stockings, eat (what is hopefully delicious) cookies, drink milk, shimmy back up the chimney, get his parking slip validated, tip the valet and go! boltHusain Bolt I think you have a second career waiting for you when this whole world’s fastest Olympian runner thing doesn’t quite pan out anymore!

How about the gross weight of the sleigh? I mean a rig like that needs to be agile and light! Made from the finest carbon fiber money can buy right? Someone must know the overall gross weight of this vehicle at the very least possibly California does since knowing means billing for registration and new registration leads to another source of revenue. Well don’t let the snowflakes melt from your cap just yet! Yes there is a calculation for this as well! Let’s say every child receives one two-pound toy,(hahahahahahaha one toy, that’s a joke) multiply that by 330 million children under the ripe old age of 18.  That’s 660 million pounds of toys! No wonder Rudolph’s nose is red! The lad needs to drink like a union dock worker after moving that much weight in one night! Wonder if Rudolph receives sopranoskickbacks to pad his stable when bags of toys mysteriously fall off the sleigh while flying over New Jersey? Aye yo Vinnie that damn reindeer dropped us another load! Youz better have is cut ready or your kids won’t be seeing any evidence of the Fatman on Christmas morning!

So there, the baby Jesus is the reason we have Christmas! The Santa story is absolutely charming and I truly don’t mind playing the big guy every Christmas morning! The straight up fact is it brings endless joy to all the little boys and girls across this wondrous globe of ours. With or without the help of Macy’s, Target and Wal-Mart. But doesn’t someone think maybe lying to our children about a fictitious person, from a make-believe place, who brings toys and gifts to all the “good” little boys and girls after making a list (segregation) and checking it twice might really be sending a bad message? Plus how do you explain the whole “he bad santa 2sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake” bit? Sound like someone needs to be registered on the Meagan’s law web-site! Creeper!

 

I have decided since I receive gifts on Christmas morning I need to work on tricking my children into believing I am the baby Jesus instead!  Pretty sure I can pull of the three wise men part with a little help from my friends. Someone know where I can get some Frankincense? Maybe three camels????

 

DR. FRO-YO is in….

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As a parent my world revolves around our children. They bring to our lives purpose and a fulfillment that just can’t be achieved by denying their existence. No really you can deny they’re yours all you want but try leaving Chucky Cheese unnoticed when one of them yells; Hey dad where ya going? That damn family hand stamp you received when you arrived ties you right back to the little darlings! Anyways I only tried it once, no harm no foul right?

Yep those little ones fill our days with delight! From the moment their sweet little angelic eyes open in the morning, birds begin to sing! They’ll float down to breakfast as ifimages-13 Miss Mary Poppins herself was their nanny! Poise, confidence, smarts they are perfect and all yours. Every day is greeted with excitement because you’re able to cherish hundreds of precious moments with these wondrous gifts from god!

Often times in the morning I am heard across the neighborhood hollering out our back door as they skip off to school, backpacks in hand, looking sharp dressed in their finest knickers; Have a great day children and remember daddy loves yoouuuu!! They always stop, hold hands and in unison shout: We love you to daddy!!!! Sweet visualization huh?

Parenting is a calling, you don’t realize how important it is until it happens to you! Becoming a parent brings together all the unknowns about your existence, solidifying them in one complete, mind altering, unrelenting realization.

At some point you are going to need a drink!

Because after that Disney fantasy world of morning departure, as the door closes and you’re left all alone with nothing but your thoughts, life becomes very clear. You may need a drink! It starts out harmless enough; the house is yours so you figure knocking out a few chores such as laundry sounds like a good idea. I mean you are the maid right? So images-17you grab a cup of coffee, haul a few hampers, wash a few loads it all sounds so easy? But oh no my friend how wrong you are because it’s then and only then you see the light! For example, apparently all four of my children were performing on America’s got talent last night! How do I know? Because every single one of them went through at least three wardrobe changes yesterday leaving two of them scattered across the bathroom, bedroom and hallway floors! Only someone who performs on stage needs that many wardrobe changes to get through the day right? The laundry basket is filled with an equal amount of clothing exchanges from the previous three days as well and by the time it has been transferred to the basement it appears the bottom of the basket is filled with clothes I washed and folded on Friday of last week! Those clothes now smell awful because apparently the littlest one peed the bed and has thrown the urine soaked clothing on top of the aforementioned clean clothes! Feeling the need yet?

Did I mention the bathroom? Between cleaning up piss scattered about the base of the images-6toilet and poop that has made its way miraculously down the side of the bowl. (Serious skill or a disturbing problem) There is an endless river of shampoo and body gel making its way around every part of our bathroom except (judging by quantity only) onto the filthy bodies of my pristine little gems! Thirsty for a snort?

As I feel happiness slowly draining from my body like the last remaining droplets of coffee from the pot downstairs, I decide grabbing some chocolate will harden my resolve and strengthen my nerves.  One problem, it’s all gone!  I don’t know when or where but it’s gone all gone!  Hands shaking, teeth grinding, creating new curse words, the laundry is dragged to the basement and tossed into the machine, our bathrooms are cleaned to perfection,  the floor is swept, mopped and left to dry while I burn time folding clothes. I call it “burning” time because it’s not what I want to do it’s what I have to do so I prefer to burn it with my hatred!! After an hour I start missing my children again (I know freaking crazy huh?).  The bottle on the counter doesn’t seem quite as tempting anymore, yet Jack is always a gentlemen and he remains smooth as silk in his delivery.

The day trots’ on with more highs and lows; high when I find a bedroom closet cleaned, low when I find all my missing chocolate wrappers under a bed, high when finding a note left behind by one of them saying how much they love me, low when realizing all the words are spelled backwards, leaving me worrying about his education! High while realizing they are all taking fairly good care of their animals a very big responsibility, low when reaching into a box of Hot Pockets to find it has been placed back into the freezer empty!  AARRRGGGHHHHH! Getting thirsty again…

By the time our children are let out of school my emotions have traveled a gambit of expressions and yet even though exhaustion is ruling my body, and sleep would be a welcome sight even for just a few minutes, I pull my boot straps up, put on a smile and rush off to gather them for the return ride home.  A trip into town takes but 15 minutes, just enough time to sing a few songs on the radio, down a beer and let the Percocet take hold! Just kidding!!! Don’t get uptight now my belligerent story has almost concluded!

images-18While waiting in the hallways I take note of many other children, some are sweet as pie, others in need of a good old-fashioned ————-! (You fill in the blank! Really anything you want! Time out, walk in the park, smack on the tush, trophy for being the most obnoxious, whatever works for you! This is the kinder gentler, stranger society we occupy so live it up!)

My conclusion is this; our children will always be sweet little angels, the stuff Disney movies are made of, no matter what anyone else says!  They could do whatever they wanted and dad would stand behind them all the way! Ok except for getting arrested and maybe starting a fight, yeah that’s never good, also selling drugs would be a hard one to back all the way unless junior is gonna hook a father up with some sweet green!

I digress….  So my children walk up, hugs are given and no longer do I feel the stress of a long day!  Life is ok; all is right with the world.  We climb into the truck and before we leave the parking lot three of them are fighting in the back seat, one is crying two are punching each other all while words such as butthead and fart face are thrown about as frequently as a bug hitting the windshield!  So with the calmness of a school librarian Unknown-2(they still have those don’t they?)  the truck is turned north, our home is no longer an approved destination for I have determined they (our children)are feeling the very same stresses I feel  day after day.  Their stress revolves around working hard, strengthening the farthest reaches of their little brains during a long day of school! So it would make sense for them to release stress exactly the same way dad does, through spastic, angered verbal retaliation.  Of course mine is directed at no one because I am usually home alone. A feeling of daily stress that just can’t be contained from sitting in ones room for being grumpy.  Since children can’t drink (not legally anyways) it’s on to the next best thing! Pulling into the Frozen yogurt shop a hearty FRO-YO chant bellows comes from the back seat, sharing the very same exuberance a dock worker feels when his ride home at the end of a long day stops at the local pub for a pint… or two….

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Everyone pours out of the truck, piles into the store, flavors are picked, toppings are served and we take our little pint-sized treasures out to the tables in the shade.  Not a word is spoken, peace and harmony exists, the only sounds to be heard are that of; thanks dad and mmmmmmmmmm!  Ok except for my littlest who between spoonfuls is conducting an imaginary orchestra with his spoon! Holy cow people are staring at him….. Cooollll…… Climbing back into the truck all is right with the world.  They have de-stressed, genuine conversation is at the forefront of our ride home.  We are a communicating caring family once again!  All because of a little sweet FRO-YO.

At home they are playing joyfully in the backyard. Chores completed with smiles and homework finished. I pray they have the ability to stay in Disney/Happiest place in the world mode a little while longer; I’d like their mother to enjoy some of this FRO-YO high as well?

Now where did I put my old friend Jack?

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(this story is sarcasm based, no alcohol, children, parents or animals were harmed in the telling of this story)

Somewhere in the Halls of Justice…..

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A tub of chocolate chip cookie dough has been discovered open.  Now this is no giant revelation in the grand scheme of things around Betty’s house, but this time is a bit different. You see lately there has been a sudden rash of midnight food thefts.  Of course one might wonder if it’s the result of us starving our children to the point of  emaciation? After all they are always screaming about how they are starving, there is nothing to eat, they are dying! Hypochondriacs! Maybe it’s because our food stamps ran out this month after I traded them for cash to a local street entrepreneur so I could score some vodka and cigarettes? Don’t judge me a guys got to do what a guys got to do right?

But sadly no, Betty and spouse have stocked the home quite well with food for all.  Three squares a day and all the snacks one could handle. Not even the prison commissary has more crap than Betty’s Basement for snacking and munching.  But what makes this crime of chocolate chip passion so incredulous is the fact we have been mired in a swamp of lying lately.  Several attempts have been made through modern-day practices to arrive at the truth, trick questioning, good parent bad parent role play, single chair in the room hot spot light grilling, even a little military action has been used, but alas the waterboarding failed miserably. Thank God for AFLAC! Yet no matter what we tried the famed culprit “Mr. I don’t know” is usually to blame! What to do, what to do??

On this particular occasion while staring at the evidence a moment of brilliance overcame me! Sheer genius really as too many nights of late night crime TV took over, guiding me through a fair and just investigation.

Calmly calling the main accused subject to the front of the room I leaned down and gave the suspect every opportunity to answer me truthfully the first time.  Each time I asked, the suspect stood their ground claiming no knowledge of a crime committed.  Finally I held the subjects hand, slowly pulling the forefinger out straight.

Once the hand was firmly in my grasp over the bucket of sugary goodness with the forefinger pointed out straight I said; (Law and Order moment here) My dear, this bucket of chocolate chip cookie dough has been picked out by a single solitary finger.  The great thing about fingers is no two are the same.  Therefore if I place this finger inside this bucket will it match the marks made by the thief? She calmly stated no, stood her ground while beginning to look very confused.

Slowly lowering her hand I said; this is your last chance.  Her brow furrowed, her resolve was set. Down went the hand and behold the finger mark was a perfect fit!

Now one could point the opposed bony finger of justice at the accused and scream GUILTY! But that’s not how Betty rolls.  In a smooth almost sweet voice I asked the accused to step back, explained it was a perfect fit but in the interest of justice we would call in the other accused suspect to appear before our Kangaroo court.  The call was made and suspect number two was brought downstairs and placed in front of suspect number one.  Now suspect number two doesn’t have quite the moxy suspect number one carries.  So there was an instant look of guilt upon his reddening cheeks.  He tried his best poker face with a loud; whats up dad? (insert nervous laughter here)

The same investigative speech was provided for suspect number two and when he recognized the significance of important scientific data such as “no two fingers leaving the same mark in cookie dough” the confession spewed forth like that of man carrying heavy guilt for some time!  No splayed out finger, no hand-held over the tub, no look of shame needed! Just the fear of scientific data, fact, serious CSI shit, to break his silence and expose a true culprit.  The crime had been solved or so it seemed, but as with any criminal facing significant prison time this young lad was no different from any other! He started singing and he sang like a freaking canary, throwing suspect number one under the bus in the process.  Hearing the overwhelming load of evidence thrown her way she lowered her shoulders and confessed to it all.  The facts of the case had been revealed, two culprits one definitive finger match and all with a little knowledge learned from watching to many Law and Order episodes late at night.

The investigating officers report read as such:

On the night of 25 November 2012, One 8-year-old female suspect made her way into the family’s basement, avoiding detection from the parental units through stealth measures developed over an unspecified period of time.  The female suspect finding the Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough tub in the main downstairs refrigerator carefull removed a tool from the adjoining refrigerator intentionally piercing the cellophane cover, exposing the dough goodness held inside.  Using her fingers many samples were had/stolen until the sounds of people moving her direction stopped her from enjoying more of the holiday treat. She retreated through the shadows into her room retiring for the night.  Sometime later in the evening suspect number two seeing the lid had in fact been opened and fully knowing who the main culprit may have been felt as though the perfect crime would be committed by helping himself to the same sugary goodness then leave suspect number one taking the fall for the crime. A thorough investigation was held, both suspects were apprehended and suitable punishments were doled out through the use of plea bargaining. 

Case closed.

Now if only I can use this late night psychological shit to figure out who is stealing my underwear and socks….

Black Friday is just the Beginning…

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Black Friday is just the beginning!

Without so much as a decent burial to Thanksgiving the nations marketing firms have once again proceeded with a full frontal assault upon your financial statement or loss thereof.

Christmas past

As a child I would count down the days towards Thanksgiving (purely due to my mass enjoyment of gorging delicious holiday food), then the day after would begin another count down towards Christmas.  Lying in bed at night thinking 29 more days, then 28, then 27 and so on until Christmas Eve was upon me! During this period I looked forward to Christmas activities at school, Church, Christmas lights hung around the town square, cold wet weather, Christmas music, all the holiday specials (Rudolph, Frosty,  the Grinch and so on) and yes even a little Christmas shopping.  You see when I became a little older my mother would drop me off in town to spend some time Christmas shopping on my own.  It was fun, made me feel as though I was becoming an adult and there was always just enough money left over for a one pound bag of M&M’s that inevitably made it home to my sock drawer where I would gleefully shove handfuls into my face when no one was around! Christmas was fun, easy and all within the context of roughly 30 days.

The marketing guru’s of the time, while still looking to vie for every penny you held, hoping to help adjust their year-end statements; held to Christmas being a sacred, specified period of time.  Values were still present and accounted for; family was still a number one priority!

Christmas Present

Today my children can’t wait for Christmas! Which in today’s  high stress, high pressure environment astounds me! They chomp at the bit in anticipation of that glorious morning when their year-end performance reports come back.

Dad: Hey little Peter wont you step into my office? 

Peter: Sure

Dad: For this year end review which qualifies your interests (Santa’s wish list) to be forwarded upstairs, I am trying to get a feel for how you spend your day … so, if you would, would you walk me through a typical day, for you? 

Peter: Yeah. 

Dad: Great. 

Peter: Well, I generally wake up at least fifteen minutes late, ah, I use the side door – that way mom can’t see me, heh heh – and, uh, after that I just sorta space out for about an hour. 

Dad: Da-uh? Space out? 

Peter: Yeah, I just stare at the ground outside; but it looks like I’m working. I do that for probably another hour after lunch, too. I’d say in a given week I probably only do about fifteen minutes of real, actual, work

(In case you didn’t notice that was an obscure “Office Space” reference)

But those 15 minutes of actual work pay off as little Peters Santa’s list makes the grade and is pushed up the ladder to corporate! Santa will be placing little Peter on the nice list today. 

Today Christmas is filled with pressure! Pressure brought to you courtesy of the retail industry! It’s not enough to have a wonderful Christmas surrounded by family and friends. It’s not enough that you live on a fixed a budget and are doing the very best you can with what you have.  It’s not enough to be thankful for your health, a roof over your head, well adjusted children earning a great education. It is not enough; it’s not enough it’s just not enough! No! During Christmas you are supposed to stand in long lines, maxing out every credit card, singing Christmas carols, sucking a Starbucks while getting shoved to floor during a Black Friday event. Buy, Buy, and Buy! Who cares what the economy is doing! Just ask the car industry! Buy a Lexus! Who cares that you are on welfare! Purchase a 52 inch TV that you can never pay for! Who cares that your family is now down to one income! Its Christmas Damn it and for it to the very best Christmas ever you need to outspend, outlast, and overcome all financial obstacles for people to still love you!  Just ask the talking navigation system in the Jarrod commercials.

What exactly is the message most marketing agencies are passing along today? Holiday cheer? Uh no. Betterment of mankind? Uh no. Helping your fellow man? Uh no. Nope its nothing more than buy, buy, buy! My littlest reminded me yesterday that Black Friday is the only true savings day! It seems that it’s perfect for all parents to score really cool toys! Who are ad executives speaking to again?

Apparently Christmas is so all encompassing within our lives that it needs to be celebrated starting in October! Visited a Wal-Mart lately?  That’s right, over by the gardening section; nothing says chrysanthemum like a new set of Christmas lights and a blow up Santa! Scare the Halloween right out of Halloween by spending Christmas dollars now! Santa knows how to make Halloween its bitch!

(Actual picture taken at a Wal-Mart in October)

The phrase “holiday season” has been stretched to its useful limit when Target starts advertising the “holidays” during the World Series!  Snowflakes, Christmas Presents, couples hand in hand walking blissfully through the snow as a big white dog with a target on his eye (presumably an injury from the war) strolls down main street spreading Holiday cheer that can only be obtained after spending all of your hard earned money at Target! Also from watching this commercial, when you shop at Target in the snowy regions you don’t get wet or have a runny nose! Just an observation.

Back to Black Friday.  Marketing genius I tell you!  Not only have you stressed every shop-o-holic to the limit by announcing this day of spending infamy, but ad executives have created a self generating existence that will go generation after generation! No longer, on the day after Thanksgiving will the sound of father bellowing down the hallway; let’s all climb in the mini-van and go get the Christmas tree, be heard! Or the family tradition of pulling Christmas boxes from storage to decorate the house! Nope the marketing gods have ensured that over time, one mom will take her kids to Black Friday, a couple of moms friends will do the same, then their children will start participating in this yearly purchasing orgy, before long they will tell two friends, then they will tell two friends and so on and so on… Eventually they all will succumb to this newly created family tradition of unbridled consumerism on the day after Thanksgiving! Death to the old Christmas period, birth of a new! Maybe it shouldn’t be called Christmas anymore, I mean it is after all a religious undertone and we all know how well that flies these days.  Maybe we should call it 30 days of debt? National pay down the nation’s debt day? Giving day? Giftmas?

Yeah Giftmas! GIFTMAS, that’s the ticket!

Christmas Failure- ahem! I mean Future!

I can see it now, no longer does our country celebrate the birth of Christ, and no longer do we recognize three wise men bearing gifts for the newborn son. Our Nation, an enlightened nation now only recognizes Giftmas. A day that every faith, and culture and stand behind! Giftmas is 90 days of advertising, 14 days of Black Friday style shopping, 10 days of ridiculously low internet specials, 7 days of no credit report checked credit card offerings and two days of amnesty for people who are a little behind in their credit card payments but want to apply for more credit.

The new Giftmas will still be held on the same day as Christmas, Santa will remain as patron saint of gifting, he mastered this thing a couple a hundred years ago when as little old Saint Nic he left shoes outside the windows of those who had none! Talk about a long range growth plan! So let’s not mess with a good thing, all though I am pretty sure that once Giftmas has gone corporate the elves will unionize and then pension costs will drive up prices, but hey that’s in the future and if the present has taught us anything it’s that pension money left in the right hands is always the culprit of greed, dishonesty and theft. Which means it will be dealt with long after it’s too late.

No more Christmas trees in the household, there will instead be a Giftmas stand! That’s right a 6 foot, 8 foot or 12 foot stand with multiple levels and platforms to place your gifts upon or under.  The Giftmas stand will be lit from every angle with computerized lighting.  It will spin 360 degrees to show off every side, so even the smallest of presents look great!  And best of all its fire safe! No more worrying about a tree going up in the middle of the night!

Want to place lights on your house to celebrate the season! Great! Advertisers will do it for you! All vying for the chance to display through electronics their personal holiday message designed just for your neighborhood! Live in a gated neighborhood? Great! An electronic, flashing Mercedes Benz ad will now be running along your roof line   Live in the country? Tractor Supply will be dancing in holiday spirit as it advertises this week’s feed specials along your fence! Genius really, the same effect as Christmas lights but with a message!

The morning of Giftmas should remain relatively the same as Christmas used too.  Wake up; tear through presents then lay in a gift induced coma after eating breakfast and watching “A Christmas Story” to help you remember the good old days.  In a few hours the whole family arrives and more gifting carnage ensues! See it really isn’t all that different! No more silly religion to get in the way, no more thanking God for all that has been provided, no more needing to pray at dinner.  Just good old fashioned greedy consumerism to hold dear for generations!

Yes sir, Giftmas will ring true in the hearts and minds of every little boy and girl! Sleigh bells ring, are ya listening, it’s the UPS truck bringing your Amazon order! In the lane snow is glistening, that’s just low blood sugar! A beautiful sight, the shopping’s just right, walking through a Macy’s once again!

Happy Black Friday Shopping!!!

The Future is yours!

 

A fathers pledge….

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To my daughter,

I pledge as your father too;

Always do my very best at protecting your young eyes and impressionable mind from the cruelties this world has to offer you.

Prepare you for life as an adult by allowing you to fail with gentle guidance towards success.

Tell you no and mean it.

Dance with you for no reason at all..

Allow you to be a princess when you feel like it, while celebrating the moments your tomboy rules the roost.

Understand that crying isn’t just for girls but big dumb old dads as well.

Not punch the first boy who dumps you and makes you cry. Unless you want me too?

Take you fishing without your brothers.

Teach you to hunt.

Brag about you not only when you are not around but when you think I can’t see you.

Have tea with you, even if that includes your horse and the two goats.

Hold your hand.

Take you on ice cream dates once a month.

Embarrass you in public. It’s just good clean fun and lends you to developing an awesome sense of humor.

Teach you all the devilish, sneaky and sometimes cruel ways of the adolescent boy.

Teach you all the even harsher ways of the mind bending adolescent girl.

Remind you on a regular basis that before someone else can love you, you need to love you.

Remind you that I love you.

Always answer the phone when you call no matter what time it is.

Pick you and your friends up anytime day or night if you have partied a little to hard.

Always call you “my little girl”

Walk you down the aisle on your wedding day without crying in front of your future husband.

Support what ever career choice you make, it’s not for me to like or dislike your choices, only to gently give you my opinion as an elder man with many experiences under his belt.

Teach you no matter what some friend, boyfriend, or stranger may try to convince you, your father will always listen to what you have to say. I may not always have the answer but I will do my best to find one.

Let you see me fail.

Always tell you the truth.

Remind you there are evil men in this world, but none as ruthless as your father when it comes to someone threatening, hurting, or stealing his daughters innocence, self-worth or life. I will find them and I will make them pay.

Try my very hardest at being a good dad, I will let you down on occasion as you will I. We are human therefor mistakes will be made, but as long as you know in your heart I will always love you there is nothing we cannot conquer together.

Love dad….

 

 

An Army of one….

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Standing at the precipice a cool breeze blocks the warmth from my face.  Coffee in hand the heart rate raises unexpectedly, a trickle of sweat forms upon the rim of my brow; my face is flush and mottled red.  Fear; fear rises inside as an uneasy feeling erupts inside my gut.  I must travel these cold steps towards the gates of hell but my feet appear to have become frozen.  My knees tremble and knock as general weakness overtakes the ability to move.

I know I must go, I know I must make this journey into domestic bowels.  No person wishes for this, I never asked for it nor did I volunteer this assignment yet here I stand, chill down my spine, a tight feeling in my throat, and sweat trickling down my face and back, knees locked together like a Friday evening bankers vault.  Where are the troops?  Where is my back up, my support system comprised of willing individuals to help over take the monster that lay dormant in the dark cavern? Where are they? They are nowhere to be found, they have abandoned ship, left their posts for more enjoyable endeavors.  A Army of one, alone I stand, and a stand I will make. 

It’s not the journey mind you, I have made these travel many times in the past.  It’s like being hit by an electric fence. You know the fence is hot, you know it’s going to hurt, but you also know you have to get through the fence when no gate is present.  So with all that knowledge each time you get hit by the electricity it doesn’t hurt any less yet in some strange fashion it doesn’t seem quite so bad.

But this time it’s different.  I know it shouldn’t be yet it is.  The ball of fire in the sky has come and gone many times since last traversing this trail.  The wind coming from its belly has a particular smell that brings worry and fear to my soul.  It also brings a tear to my eye as it stings the senses. 

Again I stare downward, into its depths, a sip of coffee a deep breath, I exhale stand up straight and start my journey.  The breeze still present brings a more pungent sickly sweet scent to my senses, I continue forward.  A few more stairs and a silhouette of the creature is in the distance; its massive shadowy mound lying dormant for now.  It has not been awakened and that is a good thing for to wake this monster will bring nothing but heartache to all who challenge its existence.  Reaching the bottom of the stairs I find the temperature is cooler, moist almost sticky.  Ducking under a low lying beam the monster is suddenly before me! It’s large and I swear its moving, different colors, patterns and textures make up this abnormality of existence. 

I work my around it quietly, for on the other side stands the Machines of Justice. The mound guards the Machines of Justice ensuring no one can ever use them for what they are intended.  By growing in size when needed the mound can completely block ones path from reaching the Machines of Justice ensuring certain failure to all who try. If I reach the machines of justice successfully I can slowly terminate this life form without disturbing it from its slumber.  It’s a risky move for sure, but effective none the less.  I have had great success with this maneuver in the past and since there is no back up coming it’s all or nothing.  The smell is toxic and starts affecting my breathing, making it shallow and labored, at one point I begin to feel light headed.  I pace myself slowly picking pieces of armor from the monsters back.  The smelliest ones first then other pieces of color and texture are the next to meet their demise inside the Machine of Justice.

While focusing on the task at hand the monster moves! Hard to the left it rolls but I counter with a receptacle to the side! Hustling back to my left I grab a large section of the beast hurling it with great force into the Machine of Justice! Yes!! Success!! The monster, realizing it is out matched has laid down flat allowing me to finish it off by pulling it apart creating smaller piles for processing!  I have triumphed! I have slain the beast with little to no fight at all! The Machines of Justice hum a song exalting my superiority over this inferior adversary! I will rise up the Hero once again! I turn arms in air shouting towards the heavens above; YOU SHALL NEVER DEFEAT ME!!

Dad? 

I turn to see my 7 year old staring at me with a befuddled look upon his face holding another basket of laundry to add to the pile.

 

The monster lives again…..

“And that’s how you turn the simple act of doing laundry into a short story about a fatherly super hero who battles evil.”

My work here is done…..

Singing in the rain…

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0230 hours

Sleeping lightly wondering why I can’t trail off into a good old-fashioned deep sleep.  Tossing turning, hearing every creak, rattle, and moan from within our old farm-house.  Frustration setting in…

0245

The sound of Parker (our littlest one) stirring about has my radar on high alert. I wait, anticipate the inevitable, but there is nothing. So I attempt drifting off to sleep again…

0305

Dad? Dad? DAAAAAAAAAD!!!!! Huh what? Crap I finally fell asleep! Its Parker, he is holding his blankie while quietly mumbling into my ear. I wet the bed dad.  (heavy sigh here). Ok buddy; I tell him. Go get into the shower and please be quiet, others are still sleeping.  Parker looks straight into my eyes (acknowledgment) and whispers; ok.

Begrudgingly I start stripping the young lads bed. Thank heavens we still wrap his mattress in a plastic cover for just such an occasion.  A little Lysol disinfectant, some fresh sheets and this little sprinkler will be back into slumber land in no time. I can’t say the same for me as I know this will be the straw that broke slumbers back.

Moving with the gate of a zombie, my room service maid duties begin to flow when suddenly I notice a noise coming from the bathroom. Ok maybe a “noise” is being polite. Its more like an out of tune wail? Or maybe a cat has slipped into the shower? Either way its loud, and is certain to wake up one or more of the slumbering beauties residing under this roof! Blundering towards the bathroom, swinging open the door, young Parker crooning away some unknown collaboration as if he was Frank Sinatra pulling a little wind down after a successful night at the Sands! In my loudest whisper I remind him to please be quiet, for others are sleeping! He pulls the curtain aside and screams WHAT, I CANT HEAR YOU DAD!

Are you kidding me! Quiet down son others are sleeping! He says sorry, closes the curtain and resumes showering.  Before I can clear the hallway into his bedroom to resume my duties as head maid, he breaks into a full mantra of songs.  All original renditions mind you! But a mini concert none the less has unfolded within the confines of our upstairs bathroom.

I turn on my heels as if preparing for inspection from R. Lee Ermy himself! Fists clenched I start back down the hall with a snappy military gate! Little bodies begin rustling from the noise which only increases my blood pressure and helps grind my teeth tighter. Grabbing the door handle yet again I have full intentions of squelching someones musical creativity with the ferocity of a grumpy elderly next door neighbor banging on the door yelling  “keep it down or I’ll call the police”!

Now in Parkers defense, I am sure he believes his version of Ave Maria is concert worthy to the point Luciano Pavarotti would shower him in rose pedals and praise. But at three in the morning after being told to please keep it quiet, the critics are miffed and the local daily revue will not have nice things to print about his performance!

Opening the door I realize all noise has stopped, along with the shower.  I am greeted with a very hearty “good morning dad”! As a little giant marches past wrapped in his best robe, smile on his face its obvious the only thing he hears is the roar of his adoring fans! Following him down the hall into his room the prima donna promptly throws half his clothing from the dresser to the floor in an attempt to find the perfect outfit! A star of the bathroom opera must, after all look their best after a performance! Settling on a dapper pair of shorts and night-shirt he gazes my direction as if to say; you may go now and with the flick of a wrist flops into a freshly wrapped bed!  Head hitting the pillow the lad is asleep before I can clear the threshold.

0430

Still awake, can’t sleep, wondering whose child he really is and strangely wishing for another performance from the bathroom opera! Oh well maybe I’ll read a little bedtime story….

What my father never taught me about life……

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What my father never taught me about life or at the very least I refused to listen too….

Over the years there have been numerous times when my ideals, opinions and hard learned wisdom have spewed forth wanted or not.  Reflecting on the expansion of my life over the years from a single man aimlessly wandering through life to a married father of four with a career, mortgage and an unending flow of responsibility; I wonder how life should be experienced by my children.  Should they struggle earning their way through hardship, confusion and eventually embarrassment? Or should I provide them an effortless transition into adulthood with all the privileges it entails?

While stuck in this conundrum I find myself spewing more wisdom to one of our younger members here at the firehouse.  Good solid foundation wisdom, things my father never taught me. (He was always gone at work)  It was then I realized this list needed to be created.  A middle ground if you will, not just for me, not just for my children but for all children and parents out there who are afraid, embarrassed, or alone and unable to sit down and have an open honest conversation about life and what awaits them in this scary world.

There is no order of importance in these writings, just written down as they flowed from brain.

Finances

A credit card is not the same as money.  It never has been and it never will be, if you are using a credit card you are just padding some wealthy executive’s pockets.  Pay cash, or use a debit card.  Save yourself the interest.

Put away a portion of your paycheck every pay period.  Even if its $10.00! Don’t use it for anything! You will be amazed at how fast it adds up and becomes a tangible amount, there in case of a cash emergency.

Purchase used instead of new! There is nothing wrong with “thrifting”! I have tons of brand new and slightly used designer clothing obtained from thrift stores! I have lots of friends who spend thousands a year on new designer clothing! If that’s how you wish to spend your money that is fantastic! But I live on a small budget and I can’t tell you how many times compliments have rained down on my thrift store attire! Example: New designer shirt with tags at thrift store $4.99 after 50% off sale $2.50! Same shirt in a well known department store that rhymes with ordstroms; $69.99 true story!

A used car with 20-50,000 miles on it, is still a new car to you! Don’t waste your money on a brand new car! You might as well just shred 10-20,000 dollars and throw it into the wind!  Is a subjective status so important to you that throwing away that kind of money remotely makes sense?

Don’t live beyond your means! If you can’t afford it you don’t need it! Our country does a fantastic job through marketing of making you feel as though you are entitled to a new car, a new house, a new boat, a new motorcycle, a new trailer, a new leather jacket, etc…. Right behind that marketing genius are commercials warping your mind into believing you need $40,000 in credit cards along with a second on your house, helping you keep up with the Jones’s! Don’t fall into this materialistic trap.  Set a budget, learn your true expenses, your true needs, then identify your wants and systematically achieve them over time! Not tomorrow with a 19% interest credit card or next week with a 7.5% interest loan, but over time through hard work and savings.  The best person to borrow from is you! Not some bank in a glass & steel building on Wall Street!

If you decide it’s time to purchase a home, make sure it fits into your budget! We have all heard stories about families moving into a house they couldn’t afford only to lose it later because making the payments became impossible! Yes there are many unscrupulous and greedy lenders out there backed by even greedier banks but the responsibility still falls upon you! A 5000 square foot palace with a pool does you no good if you can’t furnish it, maintain it, or see yourself living there in financial comfort for the next 30 years.

In the end an old saying come to mind; a penny saved is a penny earned. It still rings true to this day.

 

Your job-any job including your inevitable career choice

If you tell an employer you will do a job then do it 100% from the time you arrive till the time you leave at night. Not 20% here and 80% there, 100% all the time! You gave your word, this business gave you an opportunity and they don’t owe you a damn thing! You owe them for the paycheck that pays your bills.

If you change jobs or move on to a higher level within the company (listen closely this one is a big one) don’t under any circumstance bitch about your old job, your co-workers, the hours, your boss or any other aspect of your former occupation! I can’t tell you how many times I have seen people doing this and it always ends up biting them in the ass! Once when I was younger I applied for a driving job with a local beer vender. I made the final round of interviews and although it was a driving job, this vender was a nationally owned company with excellent benefits along with a pay scale that would have doubled my current cash flow! I wanted it bad! My final interview was a slam dunk! When I got home I just knew the job was mine! The phone rang an hour later; it was the human resources director politely informing me I had been passed over for the position! My heart sank, when I asked why, he was kind enough to explain at one point during the interview when asked about my current employer I had made a few off the cuff, derogatory remarks.  If it weren’t for those remarks which showed a lack of character from the company’s point of view the job would have been mine.  Lesson learned.

When it ends up becoming your job to correct problems within a company remember to complain up not down. Never ever let your subordinates hear you bad mouth your bosses! It just sets the tone for them to do exactly the same when you are not around.

Always lead by example. Nothing helps you climb the ladder quicker.  Ass kissing may work in the short term, but in the long run you will be labeled just that, an ass kisser.  No one will ever respect you or the work you perform.

Show up early.  Anyone can roll in with minutes to spare, but is that who you really are? The employee so disorganized, so lacking any care for the company or business you represent that you can’t show common courtesy and arrive a few minutes early to greet your co-workers.

Don’t say you can accomplish a task if you can’t.

If you need help ask for it, don’t run around acting like you know what you are doing when you clearly don’t.  Remember most people with little effort can spot a poser a mile away.

There was a time early on, when I held three jobs at once.  I said yes to all three of my bosses no matter the task.  Sometimes the three would overlap, leaving me feeling as though I was a hamster on a treadmill.  My work was always substandard and I was exhausted all the time. Never take on more than you can handle. It is one thing to get ahead, but at what cost? No kidding, thought that year I was going to have a heart attack!

That’s all for today! My next blog entry will encompass love, women, dating and relationships.

Lord help me…..

An American oxymoron…

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My 13 year old asked me the other day while watching Top Gear, a television show that originated in the UK and has grown to a spin off in the United States.

Dad; what is the difference between a GMC truck and a Chevrolet truck?

Sitting back in my chair, realizing this was a moment where I could lay waste to any positive view he may hold towards these vehicles with a short idiotic tirade, I gathered my thoughts leaned down, put my arm around him and using my best Ward Cleaver laid this little number upon his unsuspecting bewildered eyes.

Ahhhh-hemmmm!

(Clearing my throat, using my best grandpa jones old man inflection)

The difference between them son is symbolic of the widening indifference in our countries mental acuity.  You see when our country was young, led by intelligent, strong willed, dedicated individuals we as a country knew the difference between right or wrong. A child could play in the street without fear, a woman was revered by men, a mom was considered the, be all end all of every child, and your house was your home, not a temporary storage area until you moved again hoping to make an extra buck.  Community meant that everyone cared about their town and participated in its growth.  You didn’t just live there to commute somewhere else without a care in the world about your neighbors or their well being.

The difference clearly rested in a country becoming accepting of all races and religions without prejudice.  Remembering we are all products of family members who immigrated here and just because we are third or fourth generation doesn’t mean we hold some inalienable right over others trying to achieve the same dreams. Yet that is exactly what we continue to do and every race and ethnicity is as guilty as the next when it comes to this process. Our country started with the ability to parent each other’s children without fear of retribution, living under the guise of “it takes a village”.  Education was a number one priority and teachers were revered for success afforded them through flexibility not unattainable federal guidance. Teachers are taught to “have the power” and “Show students the way” yet due to spineless administrators and frivolous lawsuits our children have all the power backed by parents wanting an education for their children but refusing to back any teachers play when it comes to their precious heathens.

Oh yes son the difference is clear as daylight! For you see in this country we have allowed so many to abuse the legal system for so long that a citizen of the United States is now considered guilty until proven innocent. Prisoners have all the rights and citizens have little to no protection from the criminals.  Our police forces have been told to uphold the law using the iron fist of justice, yet the iron fist has been reduced to cheap tin and is now tied behind every officers back leaving them unable to complete any given task or have the appropriate authority to do so.

In god we trust is upon every dollar yet church and state has been cited as a conflict of moral/ethical principal. The difference is right in front of your face son. Hold the door for a woman today and you are oppressing her right to equality, don’t hold the door and you are rude self centered man. Rape and abuse are the center of every television drama, glorified for all to see which seems to be an oxymoron in a civilized society.  The real housewives of any city USA are a ratings boom feeding these women millions of dollars. As American women we should be ashamed of these poor excuses for humans yet we glorify their shallow self centered struggles. Meet any woman who behaves as they do in real life (not reality TV) and she is instantly a trash talked bitch cut from the pack and left to obscurity.

What is the difference? ah yes, everyone gets a trophy when playing sports and no one loses; because if we have all winners that means someone will feel bad about losing, possibly stunting their ability to feel good about themselves in the future.  It also means that no one person will know what it feels like to truly succeed at something through failure, there bye over time eliminating the need to perform and win from our genetic make-up.

Our society is told to go outside and live life daily, these directions come from the confines of a television we paid way too much money for because its quality is so good you actually feel as though you are there, thusly preventing you from actually being outside. The difference is complaining about the rain while sniveling about the sun, whining about the heat while crying about how cold it has become!

The differences are right in front of you, you are bombarded with them every day.   WE (Americans) choose what we believe in as individuals, then we stick to it come hell or high water! Its what makes us great as a society, but its also what may in fact lead to our downfall.

In reality there are no real differences, a tweak here a few horsepower there, but essentially the very same truck. Over the last 100 years “we the people” have become so blinded by the Hollywood glow of some that lead, so ethically corrupted by misled faith, disenchanted with reality, bought off by envy and the American advertising machine that handles everything from a bar of soap to the Presidency, that “we the people” actually believe  there is a tangible difference between a GMC and a Chevy truck.

If you don’t think other countries aren’t laughing at our pig headed stupidity then drive down to your local Honda/Acura-Nissan/Infinity- Toyota/Lexus dealers and see who is having the last laugh at your expense..

Oh yeah, by the way son the GMC truck is waayyyy better than a piece of junk Chevy truck any day! Duh!  Stupid Chevy owners…

 

 

Over the hill and through the woods to grandmothers house we go?

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I get it! I finally understand! It has taken decades but like a thunderbolt cracking reality upon my world I finally see the whole picture clearly!

Today while doing laundry I found myself quietly cursing my children as I sorted through new bath towels that strangely looked to be around 10 years old! Stained, drug through the dirt, torn at one end, it infuriated me that none of our stuff ever stays nice for very long. Why?

Our children are raised with love, understanding, moral values, and respect for others belongings, yet apparently we forgot to add an addendum to these teachings to include our own material objects.

Walking the property there is garbage just thrown to the ground, toys left outside to rot, bikes dumped where ever the moment has taken them; drinking glasses left in the sun to fade, dishes scattered about under trees, alongside rocks, near the horse pastures and clothes, Oh the clothes scattered from one end of our property to the other! Its insane! I pull my hat off and scratch the old noggin with the fervor of an impending phsychotic episode. What have we done wrong, where did we fail?

Moving into the house for a little respite from collecting wayward articles I note the towel rack is askew, ripped from the sheet rock then placed back into the mounting holes as if no one would notice. Same goes for the toilet paper dispenser, as if the movement was so abrupt little hands felt the need for hulk like strength whilst grasping this handle like object. Pee on the floor near the toilet, water pooled in front of the shower, in fact wood rot has been detected near the corner of our downstairs shower due to our children’s inability to close the shower door while bathing. It smothers the youngest ones free spirit while under the rainforest showerhead you see. Moving upstairs a trail of discarded clothing is gathered, I find myself counting numerous holes knocked into the sheetrock heading up our banister. Reaching the top I find carpet torn and several stains from god know what! Turning towards their rooms toys are scattered, clothes are thrown on the ground, beds are tossed like that of a prison cell check! We just cleaned this room not more than 14 hours ago and it’s already beyond recognition, looking as though a fragment grenade went off dead center leaving shrapnel everywhere! Luckily the only casualty was a stuffed bear, seems he’s lost a limb, although judging from the bout of thunderous noise coming through the upstairs floor last night he may have been a casualty of a good old-fashioned wrestling death match!

Back to laundry! Why, oh why do our children insist on wearing our socks? They tromp out the door, happy little smiles on their faces headed off to school and I sit back reveling in the glow of great parenthood. Then I realize they aren’t happy, the monsters are quietly gloating! Gloating about the fact they know you are going to be throwing a fit in about a half hour while trying to find a matching sock! Losing your freaking mind because you are the one who is late and not them! But look for that sock all you want you wont find it! Jr’s got it on as a supplement to the one he couldnt find! Jokes on you dad!!!!

By the way don’t even think about heading into the pantry to get that little breakfast goody you’ve been hiding! It was discovered by one of your little heathens two days ago! Then the little booger wrapped up the package to look as though the pastry was still inside, still one piece all perfect and pretty as though it just arrived from the market! Sneakily placing it back hoping you would never notice. Ha ha, too late you go hungry! Once again Jokes on you dad!

Our furniture is damaged with nicks and rings from shoes and sodas. The couch is always covered in after school sports gunk, because no matter how many times you ask them to shower first they always come home and plop their sweaty little carcasses onto the high dollar pleather! It’s no wonder when we entertain company the darn thing smells like a gym locker filled with week old sweaty gym socks! gross!

The flowers are trampled the lawn is on its deathbed regardless of my green thumb resuscitation. The fence is always losing one board or another from football games in the backyard. There are ropes hanging from trees, hot wheels in the most odd places as if Evil Knievel himself were trying to jump the gorge that traverses our back 40! It is sometimes more than a parent can handle, leaving you defeated, deflated and bewildered.

So what was my epiphany? What finally lit a bulb over my head for a super Ah Ha moment?

When I was kid I loved going to my grandparents house. The house was neat, clean and cool. Thier stuff was always the nicest, they were always happy to see us and their faces were always covered with bright happy smiles! Sometimes when we would leave I would look out the rear window to wave goodbye and there grandma would be hands over her face, crying just a little! She was so sad to see us go that tears would stream down her face! It was awesome!

I finally understand why…

The house was clean because no children lived there! Their stuff was really nice because no children lived there, they were always happy to see us because (you guessed it)no children lived in thier house! You see they knew we would leave long before we had a chance to really destroy anything! Sometimes our grandparents did cry, but not because they were sad at our departure, on the contrary; because finally peaceful serenity returned to stay! Life without destruction, whining, crying, temper tantrums, snotty noses and chaos was back on the agenda. Did they love us, yes, but they had done their time, hard time too. Our parents had grown up, thier parents were paroled and like a prisoner on visiting day they were happy to see us visit and sad to see us go, but go we must.

So I too look forward to the day my wife and I sit before the parental parole board earning our freedom. Finally left to our own devices without chaos and destruction ruling our every moment…..

Wait a moment on second thought, maybe ill just have a beer, sit back and watch for a while as our children conspire then try to take over the world. No need to rush things I suppose.

Besides I still have plenty of time to repair, replace, construct and carefully plot my revenge….