Sorry of the absence

The last few weeks have been ultra busy for me.  With the consolidation of regions and districts and things finally getting into place, maybe now I'll have a little more time to keep this updated for you, my faithful readers.  Both of you.

My beautiful wife and I were talking the other day and I was reminded of a story from my young-hood that may explain a lot.  How I've come to be... always wrong. It's a great story, if I may say, which I did, so it is, and it's all completely true.

Back in my formative years in middle school, around grade 7 or so, I was labeled a troubled youth. I guess the teachers were afraid that I'd end up like some hatchet wielding murderer abusing small rodents or something.  I'm not really sure.  I was a quiet shy boy, that kept to myself.  I read a lot and I thought a lot.  Which I guess is the part they had issues with... "always ... thinking."

In an effort to make sure I didn't stray from the path of a good WASP and think too much, they had me visit the guidance counselors from time to time.  The last time I went they gave me a writing assignment.  Cool!  Something just up my alley ... this will be fun.  I was totally happy I got out of Math class for this one - it's cool.  They told me to write an essay about "If you could be anything when you grow up, what would you be?"

Perfect, I thought to my self, I know exactly the answer to this!  If I could be anything, I would be a tree.  In an essay that rivaled Ralphie Parker's Red Rider BB Gun essay I explained that I would be a tree, digging my toes into the earth, feeling the moisture and comfort that it brings.  I would spread my arms to the heavens, getting my nutrients from the sun.  I could feel the wind through my leaves, I would grow big and strong - I would be an Oak.  I would give shelter to birds, squirrels, and all sorts of natures creatures.  Children could climb me, maybe tie a Goodyear tire to me and make a swing - I would help fill the air with the laughter of children.

After the guidance counselor read it, guess what they said?  "This is wrong"

What?  How can it be wrong?  You asked me if I could be anything, what would I be, and I did.

"But .... this is wrong ..."

They were never able to tell me why I answered wrong.  I can only assume they meant I was supposed to write about a career path or something.  But there you go - the start of me being Always Wrong.

Father's Day

Father's day is a special day for me.  I'm lucky to have a father, for one, and I remind myself of this fact often.  My father always made me feel special.  He guided me, protected me.  He taught me some valuable lessons and let me learn some of those on my own (and often times painfully).

He taught me, not only by words but as well as deeds, what it means to be a real man: honor, integrity, loyalty and respect.  He would tell me to "hug the monster" - meaning embrace your fear, grab onto it, wrestle it, fight it, kick it in the jo-ho's, beat it into submission and turn it to something productive and worth while.

So what is Father's Day, really?  Is it a day where I get to go sit on the front porch and watch the sun rise and then move to the back porch and watch the sun set, all while drinking a beer and smoking a cigar and having the children rub my feet and feed me grapes, then later when the kids are asleep having my wife... ahem .... never mind.  While that does sound like marvelous fun... I think totally misses the point of Father's Day.

Father's Day isn't really about me.  Without them (I'm pointing to a picture of my children now, if you can't see) Father's Day would just be another day that I needed to cut the grass or do laundry or something else equally un-fun.  As fathers, we never really stop being "dad" and our children never stop being our children.  There's no on-off switch that magically changes one day as they go off to college and start their own lives... that we suddenly stop caring for them and trying to protect them.  If there is, there's something wrong and we can talk about that later.  Father's Day is every day - each day that my children make a good decision, grow and learn is a celebration of being a father to me.   Having my children complain that I have to go out of town for work or won't be home until late makes me feel wonderful inside.

I cherish the memories that each of my children has given me.  I cherish the memories that I have with my father.

I only hope that I live up to be 1/2 the man that I think my father is.

Sisters-in-law can be fun, too

I'm trying to stay involved in my little girl's life as she gets older and spends less and less time at home.  I guess part of the reason for me writing all these things down is to help keep the memories alive and fresh.  The stories end up in no particular order and usually pop up as I'm reminded of them from other conversations.  The best ones almost always involve my sister-in-law poking fun at me for another thing I did that will make her say, "What were you thinking?"  My sister-in-law (SIL for short) is really smart - she's a lawyer and stuff after all.

I thought I'd share a facebook conversation between SIL and T and Mickey ... (names changed to protect the not-so-innocent)

From Mickey to T: Love you

SIL: OMG! Tori, I totally love you too! Let's all talk about how much we love Tori. Who wants to see her baby pictures? By the way Micky, I'm T's fabulous Aunt SIL who will be embarrassing her periodically.

Mickey: haha so i heard all the cheers you and her mom do now

T: FML! great now ya'll are gonna start talkin and crap

SIL: Do now? Micky, I don't think you understand, it's a do always kind of situation. I write new stuff all the time.

T: ok you can stop talkingggggg!!!!!!

SIL: Look at that Tori, you were right, we talked to each other. OH NO!

Mickey: lol word dont worry i embarress her in front of my friends to

SIL: Well then you'll fit right into the family Micky.

T: you to hush

SIL: OMG! T we're still talking! Oh the humanity of it all!

T: your not funny k dont make me get the crackin

Mickey: lol i guess

SIL: Okay, first of all, you better keep the Cracken in it's lair, there's no need for all of that. But you know what there is a need for, I should get your mom in on this convo. I know you wouldn't want her left out of all of the fun. She can chat with Micky and I.

T: Thanks micky look what you started

Mickey: hahahahaha she already wants to talk to me about facebook anyway

T: well thats yall to not me

SIL: It's true Micky. My sister does indeed want to talk about the Facebooking. And in all fairness T, he didn't really start anything, I was just lying in wait.

T: lying in wait ?

T: andd ohhhh your in troubleeee

SIL: It means, I was just waiting for the right time to strike.

Mickey: about to jump out

SIL: Precisely.

T: w/e

SIL: Hey, you asked. Now, who wants to see those baby pictures of T? I've got some good ones.

Mickey: upload?

T: Aww i got such a cute butt :D

SIL: Oh, I'll have to scan some in, especially the one where she tried to cut her own hair.

T: i dont remember that

Mickey: hahaha

Mickey: thats y she just gasped on the phone

SIL: I'm sure you will when you see the picture.

SIL: Ha ha ha ha ha ha. Thank God I'm buying a new scanner tomorrow. Mwah ha ha.

T: ill burn it

SIL: Wait, a minute, the phone? It's 1:24 am. Micky, what are you doing on the phone and the internet so late with my niece?

T: hey what am i gettin for easter???

SIL: I feel that your threats are hollow.

Mickey: o the usual its not late its early in the morning

SIL: Well, you're getting that which you can't ever get enough of...my love.

T: No i want candyyy

T: and your moms hollow

T: jk

SIL: Nice try, but that logic isn't exactly going to fly with me. Remember, I'm old so I've already tried probably every excuse you're gonna throw out there.

SIL: Yeah, you better put the "jk" before I tell your grandmother what you just said. LOL.

T: waht? who are you talking to

T: lol you wouldnt

SIL: The logic comment was to Micky, the rest to you.

SIL: And you know I would too.

T: hahahha oh

Mickey: wish i had an easter basket im to old

T: whyyyyyy

T: oh w/e hush moms makin you one

SIL: Is it made with love Tori?

T: oh lots and lots

Mickey: i kno the feeling of being old mommas sister

T: my moms older then her

SIL: Umm, well God love ya' for thinking ya' know. Just wait 10 more years and then you'll fully understand. LOL.

SIL: Your mom is WAY older than me. And by way I mean 5 years and 9 months.

Mickey: i dont want to be old i still got to much crap to do before that happens

T: lol your only 14 years older then me

SIL: Well, I think you're probably safe for now.

T: i am safe thank you ver much

SIL: I know, I was there when you were born. Actually, I may have been in World History with Mr. Whetzel at the time, but you get the point.

T: who that

SIL: The safe comment was directed at Micky, what in the h*ll are you talking about Miss?!?!?

T: idk......being safe duhhhh like seat belts

Mickey: eh depends on wat u mean by safe

SIL: Mmmm hmmm.

Mickey: safe as in dont do anything stupid?

SIL: I was talking safe as in, you're safe that you aren't going to be old any time soon Micky. But yes, DON'T do anything stupid, because stupid calls down the wrath of Aunt SIL and as T can tell you, it isn't pretty.

T: Oh no it isnt lol and ummm hes a good kid thank you very much

T: like me O:)

SIL: Well you're mom vouches for him, so I'm good with her review. She gave you a good review as well T, which is nice since you're her daughter and all.

T: yay

Mickey: well thank you youll prob meet me soon haha

T: umm my aunt lives in maryland babe

SIL: It's true, I do. But your mom wants me to come visit soon, so we'll see what we can pull off.

T: yay you get the couch

SIL: And by "you get the couch" I know that you mean, "Sure Aunt SIL, I am totally fine with sleeping on the couch and giving up my bed, since I spent the entire last vacation we took together with my butt in your back as you were trying to sleep."

T: hahahahahah we share bed?

SIL: Absolutely not!

T: why

SIL: See the above comment.

T: so

SIL: So, I don't want you smelly butt smashed against my back again. You silly fool.

T: Lol it wont

SIL: Mmmm hmmm. And on the smelly butt note, I'm done harassing you two fools for now. Micky, it was nice making an overly long Facebook convo with you, treat my niece well so I'm not forced to school you. T it's 2 am. take yourself to bed, and keep the Cracken away.

Mickey: yes maam always night

SIL:Good answer. Ok kids, night. :-D

Why is my head bleeding?

Many many years ago, I was looking in the mirror trying to figure out a hair style that would look good on a slightly overweight, approaching middle age, balding white man.  After a few minutes of staring and the fast-receding hairline I decided there wasn't one.  So I said to myself, "Self - lets just buzz it all off." So I reached under the bathroom cabinet and pulled out the clippers, plugged them in and no sooner than I turned them on, my wife comes running into the bathroom asking what I think I'm doing.  So I told her.

She snatched the clippers out of my hand and said, "Give me that, you'll screw it up." So really - who am I to argue and I let her cut my hair off.  It was a glorious experience, one which I haven't done since High School.  The feeling of the wind on your scalp on a hot day is marvelous.

The buzz has since migrated to a complete shave.  I've been shaving for several years now and really have no thoughts of letting what little hair I have left grow back out.  It's gone, I need to let it rest.  Trying to let it grow back out would be like the high-school jock trying to relive his former football glory days - sad, pointless, and likely to end in injury.

As I lathered up my head and got some water nice and hot I noticed some things were out of place in our bathroom but really didn't think anything of it.  I like to warm up the razor in the hot water, feels good against my skin.  I gently yet firmly grasp my razor, look in the mirror, make the silly man-shave-face and pull the razor smoothly across my scalp....

and almost die from the pain.  Hundreds, no ... not hundreds ... thousands of tiny red dots are slowly oozing from my head as I start to bleed from countless tiny cuts from what should have been a smooth shave, free of pain.  I inspected the razor, looking for an army of tiny-sized samurai sword wielding gnomes hiding in my razor only to see that the razor I thought was new was actually used.  I inquire about this through the door and was informed that T had used my razor earlier because she was out.

What is it about a girls leg hair that so perfectly destroys a good razor?  I have leg hair - it's not that bad.  Does the hair on a female leg slowly turn into wire?

Why didn't she replace the blade for me then? Oh - that's right.  IT WAS THE LAST ONE.

So the blade-thieving had to roll down hill.  I ended up taking my wifes Lady Venus and used that (with a fresh blade).  And you know what?

It worked pretty well.  Don't tell her, but I still use it from time to time.

Always Wrong Gone One Right

As any follower of this blog knows (both of you), I have my share of moments that things just don't go the way I thought they should.  There seems to be a gap, shall we say, of what I perceive as a good idea and the way things really work.

But I think I got this one right.

Yesterday was my anniversary - the day I somehow got a woman that's way to good for me to marry me.  There's this really nice Italian restaurant in Athens, Ga named La Dolce Vita (they don't have a web site, sorry).  The owner immigrated from Italy a few years ago and set up shop in my favorite college town.  When I called for reservations for Friday dinner, I was told that the restaurant had been reserved for a private party that evening and there were no reservations available.  This is the type of place that opens for lunch and closes at 2:30 to set up for their dinner menus, then reopens later.

I was a sad panda.  The owner was the one who answered the phone when I called so I told him it was my anniversary dinner and was looking for a nice place to eat.  So he asked me if I'd be willing to come and eat about 5:30 or 5:45 - he said the private party didn't start until a little later in the evening and he would be more than happy to have us early.

Amber and I got dressed and headed up, about a 40 minute drive.  We arrived a couple minutes early because Athens was hosting the NCAA Tennis Tournament and we wanted to be sure to get a place to park.  We walked to the restaurant which is actually on the second floor and over looks the campus and the main street in town.

The owner greeted us at the door saying, "Welcome Mr. and Mrs. [People], happy anniversary, please come sit - Cristi sit them at table 1 please" Table 1 is the corner table right next to the windows with the best view.

We were the only ones allowed in to eat at the restaurant that night before the party.  I had managed to get an entire restaurant just for Amber and I to have a nice dinner.   Fresh hot breads, a bottle of wine, dessert that was just perfect (Tiramesu and a Hazelnut Chocolate Gelato)  all made for a wonderful evening for my wife and I.

Our waitress was awesome, the owner gracious and welcoming.  And it was just Amber and I.

I think I got this one right.

The Talk v2.0

I knew in the back of my mind as T was growing up that one day she would start "her cycle."  This is one of the things that as a father I tried to prepare myself for talking about.  I don't like discussing it or being involved with it with my wife.  Don't get me wrong, it's a part of life, and a necessary part.  I worship the ground my wife walks on, but I just don't want to hear about some things - like doing number 2 and her menstrual cycle.

So when the time came to discuss these things with my daughter, I wanted to be a parent and be there - to let her know that I'm there for all things.  I want her to feel comfortable talking to me and being open.  Her mother led the discussion being much more familiar with these things than I am (being a woman and all) and when it came time for my input... I froze.

It was like I had stage fright and I was in front of 10,000 people trying to sing some Whitney Houston song.  Nothing would come out - none of my rehearsed "it's a natural thing and a wonderful part of life" even tried to come past my lips.

Instead what came out was, "I hope your mother is here when it first happens because I think I'll end up running you to the emergency room thinking you're dying."

My beautiful bride (today is our anniversary, by the way) exhaled slowly, turned her head and just gave me the look that is becoming so familiar in my life and said, "I can't believe what you just said... go do something manly"

The Talk

Most parents always dread "The Talk."  I was no exception.  I understand that most kids find out the basics of sex and what happens and how it happens and the end result by the end of 2nd grade. As parents, we owe it to our children to really explain the realities of sex and puberty.  The emotional issues that come up with first relationships and when those relationships end.  The physical changes in our bodies and the psychological and physical realities associated with it.

Our children are home schooled so we got to choose our own sex education curriculum.  To help us teach pregnancy and what happens there, we went to the standard biology books about cell reproduction.  Now... the best part of this education was the end - the birth.  Uncensored birthing video's did wonders to finish the education of what exactly pregnancy is and can happen.

T made the comment, "Oh Mah Gahwd.  I am NEVER having sex - NO WAY I'm doing that to my body.  Uhhg."

Of course, that's not enough.  We had to go over the various sexually transmitted diseases and that wouldn't be a complete education without a picture to go along with each disease.  Exactly what it looks like for warts, syphilis,  yeast infections, gonorrhea, herpes, and many many many other nasty diseases.

I think "A" actually got sick to his stomach.

Nothing wrong with a little bit of fear in your parenting, right?

Right?

Hello?