Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Well, you might find it sad/funny/interesting in that having kids, you get to experience it all again. Just when I thought it was all behind me, I forgot that I'll have to coach my three kids through it all. What's worse, I may have to deal with it again, too. More on that later.
I laid in bed last night with my first case of severe doubt on whether I'm raising my kids good/smart enough. A fellow 3-3/4 year old made fun of my oldest daughter. And it may have been my fault (for putting her in that position).
Here's the deal. Marylin had a hootin' hollerin' fun time handing out Valentines a couple weeks back. Then this past Monday she took little pieces of paper - 9 of them - and made cards for her friends. Why? Because of the pure joy she found in giving. An admirable trait. She literally sat at the kitchen table for 10 minutes (a long time for an almost-four-year old) and drew each one personally, each customized with a certain li'l friend in mind. Some had letters on them (Ms and Ls), some had criss-crosses, and some just had lines. She hand made them all and to me, her Dad, they were nine Picasso's as far as I was concerned. I said, "put them in your back pack." She excitedly did so. The next morning, she gave them out I presume she was awfully proud.
Later on that same day she had her friend, we'll call her Paris, over for a play date and when I called home I asked my wife to ask if she handed out her cards. Marylin said, "yes." Then "Paris" (that bitch) said, "she ONLY drew an 'L'."
"ONLY?!?!?!?" What? Are you kidding?
So this "Paris" chick is, apparently, the letter-writing champion of the world?!?!?!?!! Was Marylin sad about this? Did she even bat an eye? Probably not. But I was destroyed. What if my daughter was heartbroken?
Either way, my heart broke. What now? I should either (a) encourage more writing and reading so Marylin is better than everyone and so that her cards have many letters strung together in something called "words" or (b) discourage her from making and giving these heartfelt gifts so that her heart (and mine) don't get broken.
Break her heart now and that sets off the whole insecurity thing and will she be laughed at, never have any friends, dye her hair black, listen to The Cure (or the 2000s equivalent), and hang with "that crowd." She'll call me "Don" instead of "Dad" for heaven's sake. I can't have that.
Seriously ...she promised she'd be 3 forever and she's totally NOT staying 3.
And then what about me? I'm not from Birmingham or Bloomfield Hills (or even Oakland County for that matter). Maybe the parents (who I'm finding all seem to be from this area) will see me as an outsider. Maybe I need to pull "the ultimate prank" to ingratiate myself to the in-crowd? Maybe I need to make more money and buy a flashy BMW ...then I'll be cool. But what if BMWs aren't cool anymore and all the other Dads laugh at me and their wives say I "try to hard."
Well, here's hoping I'm reading too much into this, but just in case, I'm going to save the money I was going to spend on a new telescope and if the opportunity comes along to buy the friendship of the coolest-Mom when she spills red wine on her best friend's dress ...well, I can bail her out and she can pretend to be my friend and make me and my family "cool."
That would be rufus.
Friday, February 16, 2007
+ + +
gay advocacy groups were outraged at the Snickers commercial featuring two men almost kissing and Snickers immediately pulled that ad and went withtheir first concept ...two women almost kissing. the same gay advocacygroup released a statement ..."that's hot."
. . .laughter . . .
Snicker sales spiked 69 percent.
. . . moans . . .
gay advocacy groups actually were upset because they said "that was eventoo many nuts for our tastes."
* these jokes expire March 11th
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Two goals for starters:
- Become a Jim Rome Jungle caller and compete in the Smack-Off
- Take great pictures
Monday, February 12, 2007
The main issue I have is this: I ain't buyin' it. I just don't think this shit actually happened and I think Hinder is pandering to the ladies so that they can sell "rock" CDs to men and women and make a quick buck. Or, worse yet, pandering to the broken-hearted frat boy who just got dumped on the eve of his Spring Fling date party.
I actually was willing to give Hinder the benefit of the doubt ...thinking, maybe, their label took the one sappy, cheezy song and said, "we have a hit with this one," and forced Hinder to make it their first single. And I could even forgive them "Better Than Me" because maybe the drummer wrote a song for the CD and, well, he's only a drummer and aside from Tommy Lee, drummer-guys just don't pull the kinda tail the lead singer and guitarists do.
I've always theorized that lead guitarists and lead singers want girls, girls, more girls, a tranny (from time to time), and then more girls ...two, three, or four at a time. The bassist, let's face it, is a family man. He wants, and probably has, a good relationship.
But the drummers? Stalkers, basically. Scratch a drummer, find an obsessive, I always say.
So ...yes. Hinder. I thought I'd give their CD a listen before making some wild claim to their wimpiness and you know what I found? Sappy, emo, drivel all over the place. Check out "Nothin' Good About Goodbye," "How Long," or "Shouldda," if you don't believe me.
In conclusion, I want them off my AOR radio station. Put them on the CHR or Hot AC station for all I care. But stop trying to sell them as a "rock" band.
Wanna laugh? Go to their site (hinderonline.com) and read their Bio ...
Hinder (verb): 1. To be or get in the way of. 2. To obstruct or delay the
progress of. 3. To interfere with action or progress.
Let nothing 'hinder' your appreciation of the subtleties purveyed by this Oklahoma City fivesome,
who are collectively dedicated to bringing back the good old decadent days when sex, drugs and rock & roll weren't dirty words, but a way of life.
Who wrote this for them? And when should I expect their hard core CD so I can join their Hinder Army? Yes. I'm not kidding. They have an army ...with troops that cry.