"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." Groucho Marx
If you don’t listen to the post you’ll miss out on all the secret messages contained within and the promise of original content which shall be posted later today. In the interim here is a smattering of old posts that you might consider checking out, or not.
The morning after hurts but in a good way. The house is destroyed and the remnants of a thousand howling middle school age boys is all around us.
It is not the calm after the storm but the clean up and I am tired but happy. My boy is smiling and so am I. He’ll officially be 12 in less than a week and we have had another sleep over party for him.
This may or may not be the last, but it definitely won’t happen next year. That is because next year will be his Bar Mitzvah and I won’t even tell you how surreal that feels to me.
These boys all used to be tiny little creatures but that is not the case any more. One of them is 5’9 and we wonder if he won’t be well over six feet. Two others aren’t much shorter than him and I know that in a few years I will be the one who has to look up to make eye contact.
My son won’t ever be as tall as them and that bothers him a little, but he’ll get used to it. He asks me about it and I laugh, tell him that my hands are bigger than a lot of the guys who are taller than I am.
He wants to know if that matters and I say it doesn’t matter any more than their being taller than I am.
Values are a funny thing. Some change over time.
We are all tired and worn out. Sleep will come soon, but I am happy to say there will be no need to hit the mall until after the 25th.
Tired doesn’t go well with holidazed.
This was my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…
Dig through the archives here and you’ll find more than a few posts about that favorite male body part known as the penis. Most of them aren’t prurient in nature because they are tied into parenting tales about discussions I have had with my children.
If you are interested click on this link and you’ll find your way to a post that links to some of the better ones such as the story about the cartoon character whose penis was in the wrong place as well as conversations about broken and sad penises.
One day I am going to have a good time reminding my kids about some of these conversations, especially my son who has 18,9387,382 friends sleeping over tonight to celebrate his 12th birthday.
Of course I am obligated to say sleepover even though everyone knows that is code for “keep dad awake all night long.”
The funny thing about blogging to stay awake is that I routinely stay up well past 1 AM but I am exhausted now. Did I mention that it is only 11:45?
Damn kids have worn me out, but I must concede that overall it hasn’t been too bad. Most of them are pretty well behaved, if only they would stop shrieking.
Fortunately puberty is going to kick in soon and the shriek won’t hurt my ears the same way. The big question is whether my eardrums will explode first or if I’ll end up catatonic and drooling on the couch.
Anyhoo since I am still awake I decided to share with you a story that once made the wacky Shmata Queen roar with laughter. It is called The Talking Penis- A New Bathroom Adventure.
I first blogged about this encounter in 2006 but I think it is still kind of funny and you might too.
But have no fear because in case you don’t you have lots of other posts to read such as Thank You Paul Simon, One Slightly Used Pump For Sale or Reading and Writing.
Got to run now because it is time for me to try to wrangle these children into sleeping bags and some semblance of sleep.
See you all in the A.M.
That trophy is going right next to my 4th place finish in the Top 25 Sexiest Dad Bloggers, not on the left but on the right.
Now some of you might feel badly about this and wonder why you didn’t receive such an illustrious reward or why Babble does such a half ass job of picking their list of the best dad bloggers.
The good news is that it just doesn’t matter.
Say it again, “It just doesn’t matter.”
All I Want To Do Is Write because it is what bloggers do. I don’t want to worry about things Bloggers Say During Sex because there are no rules in Social Media and you can make it anything you want.
Really, it is true. Figure out what it is you want to have happen and make it work for you.
If you want to have a serious discussion write posts like Is There A Benefit To Paying for Facebook Fans For Your FB Fan Page?, Two Things That Are Killing Twitter or Your Social Media Blog Is My Favorite Cure For Insomnia because people will engage with you.
Any time you blog about blogging you can guarantee that those posts will generate discussions.
If that is the kind of thing that floats your boat you can have a good time with it.
As for me, well I do enjoy that kind of thing but I like the personal stuff too. When I blogged about my grandfather’s death it got a ton of comments, tweets and emails. That is the kind of thing that has deeper meaning to me because they were heartfelt messages and I was grateful to receive them.
The communal response to tragedy and letters to our children touch me too.
But then again sometimes it is fun to be irreverent and silly. Sometimes I have to slip in posts like Do You Know About The Blog Cancellation Fees- Listen or You Are The Biggest Liar In Social Media for no other reason than because I can and I want to.
When I find myself getting caught up in the silly trap of measuring myself against others I find their Facebook page, take a good look at their photo and then make fun of them. Sometimes I call them from a local payphone and tell them that a very bitter blogger is upset he doesn’t get 298 comments on every post and 233 likes but that it is o because they are fat and ugly.
Got to tell you that sometimes that doesn’t work out real well because they aren’t fat or ugly. It is even worse when I find out that they aren’t stupid either in which case I just hope that they are impotent or very poorly hung.
Yeah, us men can be juvenile sometimes, can’t we.
Ok, there might be some exaggeration in some of that. I might be better served by sharing something like  What matters to me is becoming a better writer, building relationships, learning more about myself/life and having a good time while blogging.
The stuff in the bold and italics is really how I feel, but damn sometimes it feels good to just unload and write without censorship.
Just write is my motto and my mantra.
It is not always easy to do because sometimes people are offended when they read things like “Some of you are in dire need of a week of oral sex, enemas and brain transplants” and I wonder if I am killing potential business opportunities.
But the thing is that when I let go of the self censorship and just write good things happen. Writing jobs come, relationships develop and I have more fun which is what blogging should be.
And that my friends is all I have to say about that for now…
P.S. I would love for more people to go read The Search For Absolution, will you take a couple of moments to check it out?
Dear Children,
I never get tired of watching that video because it makes me feel hope and reminds me that moments matter. Whenever you gain the keys to this kingdom you will see I have used it more than once but that is because it is important.
It is important because as you go through life you will collect your own moments and memories. Some of them will be good, some will be bad and some will be awful, but most will be good.
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When the hard times come and they will you’ll look to certain moments to help restore your center. Sometimes I do that by thinking about the last time I saw your great grandparents dance.
It was at their 75th wedding anniversary party. You are too young to recognize how amazing that is, but trust your old man- it is not something most people will see. They made it to 76 years and then grandma died.
Grandpa died 18 months later. The docs say the cause of death was old age, but I know better. Grandpa died from a broken heart. He did the best he could to go on without grandma but it was just too much for him. It is ok, he died a hero.
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People are struggling now and it is not just because of a bad economy or just because something very bad happened. It is a collection of things and I am not going to try to explain it all because most of it doesn’t make sense.
It is why I search for the write words because life doesn’t make sense, but then again it doesn’t have to.
What matters is that you never forget there are more good people than bad and more hope than horror. What matters is that you find the people that fill your heart with happiness and your soul with delight because when the dark times come you’ll hold hands and find your way out together.
People matter.
You matter.
We matter.
I love you very much.
-Dad
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