Archive for March, 2013

5 minutes to Blog….

March 13, 2013

Connie is in Italy I am alone with the boys.  I do not have time to edit.  I do not have time to re-read my dialog to see if I am appropriatley witty.  I have had a half dozen glasses of wine, six Motrin and half a chicken pot pie (home made- kiss my ass Swanson; I took an hour and a half to do what you could have done in 3.5 minutes in an 1100 watt microwave and it tasted almost as good).

So far the adventure, or what the boys and I refer to as “Man-cation” or “Man-Camp”, has not resulted in any irreversible damage.  However, there have been some memorable moments.

1.  33 minutes after Connie’s plane left the tarmac Mack broke his middle finger playing basketball.  The 7 and 1/2 hours in the emergency room was well worth it.  Mack now has a giant splint on his social finger which he loves to display to passing motorist.  I’m pretty sure his road rage was a hereditary gift from his mother’s side of the family.

2.  Cayden lost a priceless gem he found on the playground.  According to him the rock was worth more than my life and if he found out that I pimped it on “On-Hard Core Pawn” he will feel compelled to gouge my eyes out with a claw hammer.

3.  My nightly relaxation time was spent watching “Duck Dynasty”.  What little bit of intelligence I once possessed has been sucked from my soul as easily a Dyson sucking a ”Ghost Turd” from a hardwood floor.

4. Carlo ate an entire roll of toilet paper?  I guess that’s how dogs celebrate a “Man-Cation”.  As far as I’m concerned this scenario is the perfect “self-licking ice cream cone”.   The boy can now wipe his own ass when he shits on the neighbors lawn- little blue baggies be damned…

5.  Cayden just announced that he’s starting a “Harlem Shake” movement in his 4th grade class.  He is telling me this as I type.  I am encouraging him to do so.

I am now going to break away from blogging to show him some Harlem Shake videos on YouTube- I really want to be the only Dad with a fourth grader suspended for starting a dance revolution in the halls of his school.

I love my life, I love my boys…

 

 

 

Pajama Bottoms

March 6, 2013

I question a lot of today’s fashion trends.  For instance, I don’t necessarily understand the fascination some people have with piercing every flap, fold, crease or protrusion they happen upon while taking a shower.  And I’m particularly perplexed by those who decide that it’s not really a piercing unless you can drive a small sedan through it without scraping the side-view mirrors.  This fashion statement, or quaint little act of self-mutilation, is referred to as ”gauging”.   I’m not exactly sure why this trend has caught on with the younger generation.  Maybe it’s their way of bringing attention to global issues such as hunger, poverty or the hole we’ve created in the ozone.  I’m not really sure what message they’re trying to convey but the one that speaks loudest to me is “I have no aspirations of earning more than minimum wage”.  I consider this to be one of the dumbest trends I’ve seen in a long time- which means a lot coming from a guy who owned more than one pair of “super fresh” parachute pants and a piano themed black leather tie.

Notice I didn’t say ”the dumbest”.  I didn’t say ”THE” dumbest because for the most part the folks who engage in this practice are young people that haven’t developed the analytic skill to weigh the consequences of their actions.   I imagine this development will occur in their mid-30′s once they’ve grown tired of tucking their ear lobes into their socks to prevent them from being mangled in the latte machine they’ve been hired to operate.  But the truth is most of these clowns will eventually figure it out.  Their stupidity is reversible; albeit with the assistance of a good plastic surgeon.

But I don’t know if there is hope for another group, of which I’m closely affiliated, to reach a similar level of self awareness.

It begs the question, when will middle-aged men reach the conclusion that pajama bottoms are not an appropriate substitute for “big boy” pants in the public domain?

If you’re a ten year old girl you can get away with it, some might even consider it cute.  But I contend that if you’re a 40 (+) year old dude trying to pull off the same look ”creepy” will quickly replace “cute” as the adjective that most would use to describe you.  I personally think that most of these jokers are simply searching for an intervention that they can call their own and PJs are nothing more than the banner by which they can advertise their disturbing, perverse cry for help.

The trouble with my theory however, is that I see this cry for help almost every where I go.  It often makes me wonder if I’m behind the times, the out-liar, the Tyrannosaurus Rex destined for extinction because my wee-tiny arms refused to keep pace with the evolving environment?  I don’t really think that’s the case, I sort of doubt that it’s just my intolerance for change that’s driving me to the conclusion that these guys are wrong and I am right.  I think it’s a lot more likely that there are just a shit-ton of stupid pajama wearing people in the world and apparently all of them live within close proximity of me.  But, I’ve been wrong in the past so for the sake of equity I decided to re-evaluate the whole pajama bottom phenomenon with complete scientific objectivity and here are my completely unbiased conclusions.

Airport:   Nope, the airport is not an appropriate venue for sporting your “warm and comfies”.   Remember my “fleece and flannel” loving friends, you will be sitting in close proximity to other passengers who, unlike you, have chosen to dress like adults.  It is highly unlikely that they will look at you with anything less than utter disgust.  I know this from personal experience having given that look for 5-continuous hours on my return flight from California last month.  The look of “utter disgust” takes significant energy to maintain making the provider, of said look, tired and irritable.   Increased levels of irritability, fueled by inadequate airline sustenance and condescending flight attendants, increases one’s chances of having their lips pulled over their head like a hockey jersey.  Not saying it will happen to you; but your ”Lord of the Rings” themed sleepwear is definitely putting you in a position of increased risk.

Grocery Store:  Nope, not there either.  First of all, the only person I know that likes grocery shopping is my father.  The trouble is my father doesn’t like many other things and, unlike me, wasn’t blessed with an unlimited supply of tolerance.  I can assure you that if you tarnish his experience by prancing past him in your PJs he will crush your gourd with the first frozen pot roast he can lay his hands on; he’s not to be trifled with.  Secondly, everyone else I know has a hundred other places they would rather be than shopping for groceries.  If you think strolling past them in your jammies is going to lighten the mood and bring a smile to their pursed, unhappy lips think again- you my friend are throwing kerosene on smoldering tinder and rest assured you will be burnt.

Walking your child to school-  Personally, I’ve always considered it mildly pathetic when middle aged men/women attempt to recapture the glory days by wearing clothing they obviously lifted from their teenager’s closet.  Take my sage advice men, unless you’ve got Abercrombie endorsed abs leave the Under Armor high-performance compression shirts alone.  Ladies,  hip-huggers are a no-no after 40; sporting 14(+) inches of visible ass-crack has nearly ruined the plumbing profession so my guess is it won’t work out well for you either.  Point being, dressing several generations younger than you are is bad; applying said practice to sleepwear is worse; combining the two and taking it beyond the threshold of your own home is “Amber Alert” alarming.    If you’re wondering why I went to such great lengths to explain what should be considered an obvious cultural norm it’s because some people work really hard to not embrace the obvious.  Driving through my neighborhood a couple of weeks ago I saw a man about my age walking his child to school.  Awesome, we need more involved dads right?  Wrong.  This was a malevolent Dad waging an evil vendetta against his child that would surely result in emotional instability that would require years of therapy to repair.  And how did I come to such a insightful conclusion in such a short period of time you might ask?  I know this because he was clad in bright yellow Sponge Bob lounge pants and was adorned with multiple piercings.    But, for the sake of argument lets say he wasn’t trying to inflict deep emotional wounds, maybe he was just trying to be “Cool-Fun-Dad”.  If this is the case then why hasn’t anyone told him that one morning, approximately the exact moment his child turns twelve, his antics will no longer solicit a favorable response.  It’s just the nature of the parent/child dynamic.   One minute you’re a rock-star; the next your kid will swear on a stack of bibles that they’ve never seen you before in their life and ”have no idea officer why that creepy guy is following me”.   Sadly, if you’re wearing this type of attire in the first place you’ve already demonstrated an inability to decipher even the most overt social cues- so I guess that discussion would probably fall on deaf ears.

I was really concerned going into this that I wouldn’t be able to keep an open mind and objective eye, but as I review my conclusions I feel confident that the rigor that I applied to my research ensured that the scientific integrity of my observations have been maintained; and that my friends is something to be proud of.    Maybe for my next venture into the world of scientific exploration I’ll examine the elusive Big Foot, possibly the LochNess Monster, or my wife’s personal favorite, women who mistakenly assume “tights” is just another word for “Leggings”.