November 2009 - Posts

• Oh, Dosh!

  My son Micah is two years old. He has many wonderful qualities, such as the desire to snuggle with you on the couch, the charisma to wear a pair of overalls without looking dorky and the ability to remove all of his clothing and diaper and use his crib as a toilet. But perhaps the thing I love most about my son is this: “Oh, dosh!” He has trouble with the ‘g’ in gosh and as a result, when he accidentally drops something, or knocks over a cup of milk, or watches Scooby Doo fall down a set of stairs, he yells out, “Oh, dosh!” It is ridiculously cute.  In fact, it is so ridiculously cute that I have taken up saying it myself.  I will frequently find myself saying, “Oh, dosh!” when I read the newspaper or surf the web, or see one of my children face plant on the driveway. “Paula Deen got hit in the face with a ham.” – Oh, dosh! “Oprah is retiring!” – Oh, dosh!” “Lou Dobbs is thinking about running for President.” – Oh, holy dosh!” It has become so ubiquitous in our household, that we hardly say anything else.  Last week my wife, Sarah, said, “oh gosh,” in reference to something one of the kids had done and Micah looked at her very sternly and said, “NO!  Is ‘Oh, Dosh!” So, anyway, all of this doshing around has led me to a new segment I am calling “Oh, Dosh!” (very creative, huh?) In this segment, I will be sharing with you some of the news stories, events and family catastrophes that have caused me to say, “Oh, dosh!” Let’s go. Facebook Tells Kids to Beat 12 Year Old Redhead Stepchild Like a Redheaded Stepchild! http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/11/22/california.redhead.attack.facebook/index.html Apparently, someone posted on the Facebook that Nov. 20 was “Kick a Ginger” day and a bunch of kids went to school and beat up some poor redheaded kid. Oh, dosh! Now, as someone who grew up with bright red head and as the father of a child with gingerish overtones in their hair, I have only one thing to say about this horrifying incident: Thank goodness! All these years I thought the kids didn’t like me because of my predilection for wearing royal blue slacks or my large plastic framed glasses, or the fact that the only rock album I owned was by overweight Contemporary Christian singer Sandi Patty. It is such a relief to find out that all along, it was only my hair.  Man, if I had had facebook and a bottle of Grecian formula back in 1984, life could have turned out so much differently.  I’ll have to dig out my tear stained 7th grade diary to verify, but I’m willing to bet anything that the day a kid on the bus flicked me repeatedly in the head with his pencil until I hyperventilated was probably Nov. 20!  Man, that just makes everything seem so much better!   People Who Don’t Know Understand the Health Care Bill Hate It! http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/graphic/2009/11/17/GR2009111700066.html?sid=ST2009111700022 Last week, I came across this poll in the Washington Post.  Apparently they surveyed a bunch of people and among the people who have “a good basic understanding” of the health care bill, they support the bill by 56%.  Conversely, the people who don’t understand the bill because it is “too complicated” oppose the bill by 57%. I don’t want to oversimplify this issue….. but it appears that I will have to so that the people who oppose health care can understand what I’m saying: Basically, if you have the intellectual capacity to understand what is said in the health care bill, then you probably support it and if you can’t understand it because….. (well, let’s not draw any uncharitable conclusions but let me just say, it’s ok, I felt the same way about Algebra)…..then you probably don’t’ support it. Oh, dosh! How, exactly is it that you even have an opinion on something you, admittedly, don’t understand? “Well sir, I don’t know anything about what movies that are coming out next week, but I definitely don’t want to go see them!” I guess, that isn’t really surprising.  We tend to fear what we don’t understand - like nuclear power, or other religions, or the continuing success of someone as homely as Hannah Montana.  (That’s right, I said it.  She’s homely). Another interesting aspect of this poll was that when asked whether or not they felt they understood the health care bill, 55% said yes, 44% said it was too complicated for them to understand and 2% said they had no opinion. Let me say that again.  2% of the people polled said that they had “no opinion” on whether they understood the health care bill.  That is, they had no opinion on THEIR OWN knowledge. I find that to be the most disturbing aspect of this whole poll – that 2% of the people don’t even know whether they know anything. Very frightening.  And worthy of a giant “oh dosh!”   I want to give my final, “Oh, Dosh” of the day to the worst Christmas Gift currently available. We received a catalog recently called Museum Tour.”  It is full of the kind of nerdy science gifts that are bought by your great aunt who thinks children should get “learning toys” for Christmas instead of, you know, fun stuff that kids like to play with.  Well, this catalog is choc-full of the kind of presents that obligate children to force a wincing smile on to their face after opening.  But my favorite, by far is this: The Facial Reconstruction Kit   http://www.museumtour.com/product/4895/# What could a kid possibly want more on Christmas morning than the opportunity to take a fake skull and play-doh and pretend to reconstruct the tissue from a decomposed body. Oh, dosh! “Be just like the CSI guys rebuilding the face of a murder victim that was discovered in the crawlspace of a home!” “Pretend you are rebuilding the face of a Pharaoh for a Discovery Channel special!” What could possibly be more fun? (That’s a rhetorical question…. The answer is anything) Basically you insert pegs in a skull and then start layering on play-doh until you’ve made that caveman from the Geico Ads.  For extra fun, you can re-create the skulls of Julius Caesar, Queen Nefertiti (limited availability!), King Tut and (wait for it) …  a horse. That’s right, you can take the skull of a horse, out the tendons and skin back on it’s head and then go put it in your parent’s bed as a threat. Who the hell does this?  Who comes up with these ideas?  And what kind of kid actually gets this for Christmas? Lets be honest, if your kid came home and said, “Hey Mom, my best friend Timmy wants me to come over tomorrow so we can rebuild the muscle tissue of a neanderthal on a plaster skull using  play-doh, little pegs and sculpting knives.” What are you going to say? I’ll tell you what I’m going to say.  “Honey, we’ve talked about Timmy before and you’re not allowed to go to his house because Timmy is special and I’ve always wondered if his dog really ‘ran away’.  Ok?” Although maybe the Olsen Twins could use this kit so they could figure out what their face is really supposed to look like.   (Oh, dosh!) Anywho, that’s my “Oh, dosh!” report for the week. Please note that the phrase “Oh, dosh!” is copywrited.  And please look for the full line of “Oh, dosh!” related merchandise coming to stores this Christmas season.  There will be t-shirts, lunchboxes, stain removers and of course a foam key chain figurine shaped like my son that when you squeeze it will squeal, “Oh, dosh!” Oh, dosh, indeed. Posted Nov 24 2009, 10:26 AM by superdad with no comments Filed under: news, Better off Dad, Micah, stupidity [Edit Tags]

• I’m Just Happy to be Here

  One of the store’s I shop at regularly has a greeter (no, it’s not the one you’re thinking of).  He’s the guy that says hello to you on the way in and then looks at your receipt on the way out to check whether… uh…. Heck, I have no idea why they do that.  I have never once had anyone do anything more than vaguely glance at my receipt.  No idea why they bother with that. Anyway, most of the times the people who do this job are nice enough.  They say hello, they mechanically tell you to have a nice day, and if you’re lucky, they might even smile. (yippee!) Not this guy.  He is sincerely happy to see us.  He’s a young guy, probably in his twenties and when I come in, dragging my kids along with me, he smiles and says “Hi!  How are you doing?”  in a big joyous voice.  Then he’ll turn to the kids and with a cheery smile say “Hey guys!  Are you going shopping today?”  Sometimes he uses this funny Donald Duck voice with the kids - quacking at them until they giggle.  And it’s not an act.  He seems to sincerely be a happy person who seems to sincerely enjoy saying hello and goodbye to people as a career. I see him a lot, probably a couple times a month, but I can’t tell if he remembers us or if he’s just that friendly to everyone.  He’s just that nice of a guy. Which leads me to the point of my little tale this morning and an admission that I’m not exactly proud of. We walked into the store yesterday and there he was.  Like always, he greeted us with a smile and a wave and the kids waved back and as I was getting my cart I thought to myself (and again, I’m not proud of this) I thought: “Huh, I wonder if he’s a little retarded?” Ok.  I know that’s a wildly inappropriate thing to write, or think, or say.  I’m just trying to be honest here.  And I didn’t mean it as a derogatory slur.  I meant it in the technical sense.   I literally stopped for a moment to consider whether he might have an exceptionally low IQ. Now here’s the thing.  I have no reason to believe that this young man is in any way mentally deficient.  He has never said anything or done anything that would lead me to believe that he was the least bit unintelligent, except for one thing….. He’s always happy. That’s right, because this guy is always nice and always happy, I began to consider the possibility that he, therefore, might be, well, “special.” I was instantly horrified.  I was horrified at myself for being such a jerk to even have that thought, but more than that I was horrified to think about my life and life in general. What does it say about me and the little world I live in that being friendly can cause me to label you as being stupid?  This depressing thought led me to thinking about the cause of happiness in general. Of course there’s that old bon mot “Ignorance is bliss,” which I suspect there is a lot of truth to, seeing as how the more I learn about the world the less happy I seem to be and yet I still read the paper every day like a masochistic moron. There’s also this quote from Hemingway:  “Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.” Of course what does he know?  Hemingway was a drunk and clinically depressed and suicidal and, let’s be honest, his books don’t exactly reek of intelligence.  There’s a reason his work is always described as “understated.”  You know what a synonym for “understated” is?  “Simple.” Geez, you would have thought Hemingway would have been a lot happier. (cue rimshot) Ok, now I’ve completely offended all of the Hemingway fans out there who are blown away by his subtle symbolism. “Bob was sad.  It started to rain.” Yeah, yeah, whatever.  Robert Jordan can bite me. Anywho.  What was I talking about before I started insulting beloved literary icons?  Ah yes, happiness and questionable intelligence. You know, maybe I’m approaching this all wrong.  Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with intelligence; maybe it has more to do with age.  This guy was young – in his twenties.  Maybe that’s why he’s so happy.  I mean, my kids are young and they’re pretty happy.  Well, they can be a little moody too… and occasionally lie down on the floor and scream and cry at the top of their lungs…. But for the most part they’re pretty happy.  Of course, they’re not all that smart.  Two of them can’t even read.  My oldest, Audra can read, but she likes to read these overly simplistic stories about kids in a magic treehouse or this talking rat or pigs that wear clothes.  You know, easy, unsophisticated stories like that. She’d probably love Hemingway. So, we’re back to where we started really. Can you be happy and intelligent? If you answered yes, is that because you aren’t really that smart, but just think you are?  (hmmmm, deep) If you answered no, is that because you’re smart but sad, or just stupid and depressed? (Ernest?) I don’t know.  It does say something about the state of the world though when unabashed happiness seems like an abnormality worthy of diagnosis.  I’ve been trying to think of people who seem really happy and really smart, but I’m having difficulty.  None of my college professors seemed all that happy and most of the famous scientists I can think of seem pretty droll.  There is that one picture of Einstein sticking out his tongue, but he was a little nuts, wasn’t he? I did a google search for a list of happy people, but no one has compiled one.  I did find a psych thesis about this very issue, here is the abstract: “The hypotheses of association of happy moods with heuristic processing style and sad moods with a systematic processing style were scrutinized and a study was conducted on the revisions of the model affect-as-information (AAI) and the mood-and-general knowledge (MAGK). The results support the revision of AAI model and suggest that happiness may lead to biased systematic processing.” I don’t know what the hell any of that means.  I guess, at the very least, I’m happier than whoever wrote that.  I guess what this all comes down to is that I didn’t suspect my store greeter guy of being a little off because he was happy.  I suspected him of being a little off, because he was ALWAYS happy. I mean, I’m not an unhappy person.  In general I would say I’m pretty happy, but, boy, I do succumb to moments of being kinda down.  Honestly, there’s a little too much pain and suffering in this world to always, ALWAYS be happy.  And most people seem to get that.  Despite our best efforts to achieve happiness through self help books, retail therapy, escapism, or a thousand different methods it just doesn’t work completely.  As a nation and as a culture we spend billions of dollars a year on cars, creams, coffees, calorie blockers and a hundred other C words all in an effort to make our lives easier, skinnier, younger, more relaxing, or more successful and therefore happier. It all works in the short term, but none of it works in the long term.  And so we continue a cycle of trying to find that right job, that perfect home, that special mate, that magical pill that will somehow bring about an eternal happiness – an unattainable, perpetual happiness that masks the pain and frustration and failure and imperfection that are a part of life. Life has ups and downs, moments of unbridled joy and moments of crushing sadness.  And when we see someone who seems to dwell too much on one end or the other, it disturbs us.  We question the intelligence of those who are too happy and the sanity of those that are too sad. Life is not simple and the quest for constant happiness is not one likely to be fulfilled. But take heart.  Enjoy those moments of joy to their fullest.  And revel in the presence of those who feel that joy more often.  And know that even in your darkest depressions, when it seems like night is suffocating the very joy from your soul, know that even in these moments, the sun also rises.  But in these moments, do not read “The Sun Also Rises,” for it is not a good book and it will depress you. I do not know why the greeter at my store is so happy, but I’m willing to bet my life on one thing.  He’s probably never had to read the Nick Adams Stories. And there is happiness in that alone. Posted Nov 19 2009, 08:03 AM by superdad with no comments Filed under: Better off Dad, happiness [Edit Tags]

• Better than a Cabbage Patch Kid

  I’ve got a secret to tell you, but you absolutely can’t tell anyone else. You remember a few years ago when that Tickle Me Elmo doll was all the rage and grown women were beating each other up just so they could bring it home and have it’s mechanical laugh annoy the crap out of them all day long on Christmas? Or how a year or two ago nobody had any Nintendo Wiis and the stores had all these hand written signs on their windows that said, “sorry we’re all sold out of Wiis” kind of like cars in bad neighborhoods have signs that say “No radio inside.” Well, here’s my secret:  I’m going to be able to get this year’s hot “must have” children’s item for the holiday season.   How? You might ask.   Well, I know someone. I mean, you HAVE to know someone. There’s no way to get this unless you know someone. Or are extremely lucky. I actually had a friend who did luck into one.  He just showed up and nonchalantly asked if they had any.  He was told, “sorry, no.”  But just as he was leaving, a new shipment came in.  Even though everybody in American wanted one and this location could have easily sold thousands, they received a single case of 15.  Well, my friend just happened to be there and he got one of the precious 15 for his son. Oh, he was so happy.  (His kid – not so much, but what would you expect?) By now, I’m, sure you’ve guessed what the must have dream item for Christmakkuah is this year…  That’s right, the H1N1 vaccine! The Swine Flu injection! The Miss Piggy Cootie Shot! It’s the medical necessity that’s sweeping the nation!  If you want your kid to be cool, popular and live to see the Springtime, then you absolutely have to have to get them the must have vaccine of the decade! So, how did I get mine?  Well, let me tell you. I had been calling our pediatrician’s office for awhile asking about the vaccine.  Honestly, I wasn’t even hoping to get the H1N1 shot, that’s just for celebrities and members of congress.  No, all I wanted was to get my kids the regular flu vaccine.  But my pediatrician was out of that as well.   I like my pediatrician and, especially, like the nurses who are very friendly and always remember the names of my kids.  Since I have three kids I’m in and out of the doctor’s office quite a lot.  It’s always time for someone to come in for a check up or get examined for an ear infection. Last week it was little Micah’s turn.  He had a fever and I took him in for what I was sure was another ear infection.   I was right. When I called to make an appointment I asked if they had any flu vaccines and the receptionist told me, very mysteriously, that I needed to ask my doctor. Um, ok. So, when we were in the doctor’s office I casually asked one of the nurses I knew if there were any flu vaccines.  She said no, there weren’t, clearly answering that question for the thousandth time, and she didn’t know when they were getting any. Ok. But then she leaned in and dropped her voice a bit, “But,” she said conspiratorily, “I have a list…” (Ooooh!  A list!) “…. And if you want, I can put your family on it to call when some comes in.” “Sure,” I said, “that’d be great.” It seemed very normal.  Surely lots of doctors were keeping lists of parents who wanted to be notified when the vaccine came in, but there was something in the way she said it that made me think that this was special. That maybe I was special. Anyway, yesterday I got home and there was a message on the answering machine that went something along these lines: “Hi, this is Lois from Dr. Clark’s office and I just wanted to let you know that ‘those things I told you about’ are in.  So give me a call at the office, but instead of going through the regular prompts, dial extension 4712 and that will take you straight to me.” Holy crap! This was like some kind of black ops appointment. “Meet me in the park behind the library at 3:17 am sharp.  Make sure you sit on the third bench to the left and casually lower your pants 4.6 inches.  When you are ready to be inoculated,  take out a copy of “Going Rogue” and turn to page 217.  I will then sneak up behind you and give you the shot.   You will not see me nor hear me, for I am silent like the night, you will only know I was there by the slight prick in your left buttock.” This is crazy.  Medical care shouldn’t really resemble 80s spy movies. (Jumping Jack Flash anyone?) The whole thing seemed kind of weird and made me a little uncomfortable.  Clearly there wasn’t enough vaccine and the nurse was making a special case for me because she likes my kids, or possibly me.  Regardless, I’m definitely wearing something low cut to the doctor’s office next time. You gotta work with what the good Lord gave you.   In an effort to not feel so much like one of those Wall Street goons who got special shots, I emailed a friend of mine who went to the same pediatrician and said “Hey, I think they have swine flu vaccine in if you want to make an appointment.” She wrote me back a few minutes later and told me that the receptionist told her that the vaccine was only for “high risk groups” and that her kids “didn’t qualify.” Ok, this can only mean one of three things: 1. My kids are “high risk” because of some crazy mystery disease the doctor hasn’t told me about 2. The system is horribly corrupt and based on relationships, patronage and who thought to send a Christmas Card last year and that I’m no better than those dirty Washington lobbyists who ensure that their companies are allowed to dump toxic waste directly into the water tanks at orphanages by taking politicians to their private island in the Bahamas. 3. My kids are just a lot cuter than hers.   I’m not sure how I feel about all this.  And what does this say about our government’s vaccine distribution system? It must be a completely screwed up and flawed system if it’s going to send a box of 15 doses to a clinic that needs to inoculate thousands. Or maybe it is a model of efficiency.  Maybe the government is dispensing the vaccines as quickly as they are created and the decision has been made that it is more fair to give a small amount of vaccines to everyone versus a large number to just a few. Who knows? All I know is that I have somehow won the vaccine lottery.  It’s like walking into a toy store on Christmas eve and finding that last “blue elephant” beanie baby that everyone’s been clamoring for lying behind a forgotten stack of Lizzie McGuire dolls.   What I’m not quite sure I understand is what it says about us that sticking a needle in your child is the new Furby. Everybody wants one.  They’re sold out everywhere.  Ppeople who receive them can’t help but drop it into their conversations.  In the middle of November, people are wearing short sleeve shirts just so people can see their band aids. I’m thinking about getting a star tattooed on my kids’ arms where they get the shot.  Because we all know that those with stars upon thars are truly the best sneetches on the beaches. And they don’t vomit as much. So, yes, two of my three kids will now be protected from the pink plague.  I can take them to playgrounds and let them lick the tables at Chik-fil-a with impunity.  (Because they have immunity!) I can not however do anything to help you get this most hallowed of objects.  All I can do is share the life lessons I have learned from this adventure: 1. The world is a little corrupt 2. It’s helpful to have cute kids 3. Always be nice to people, especially nurses 4. A painful ear infection can be your ticket to the in crowd.   Now you’ll have to excuse me while I take my children to have a needle of virus stuck in their thigh. Merry Christmas Kids! Posted Nov 17 2009, 08:54 AM by superdad with no comments Filed under: Better off Dad [Edit Tags]

• D’oh! A Deer!

  So, last night we were sitting around the dinner table talking about whatever it is we talk about when my wife casually referenced, “you know like the deer at the national zoo.”   I stared blankly at her.  What?   “You know, the deer that jumped in the lion’s cage at the zoo?   WHAT?!?   Yes, apparently an extremely lost deer from nearby Rock Creek Park was running around hither and yon and got confused amidst the crush of people at the zoo.  Eventually it began to panic and started racing around at full tilt looking for an escape.  Up ahead, the deer saw a 4 foot concrete wall and some grass beyond.  So in a moment of desperation, it bolted for this allure of safety, gracefully leapt over the wall and plummeted 30 feet down into the moat surrounding the lions’ pen.   The basic gist is that the deer scrambled around in a panic and the lions did what lions do… sort of.  Since these lions were a little out of practice with their hunting skills and since they were already well fed, they basically toyed with the animal instead of devouring it.  So, for approximately 20 minutes, the deer ran for it’s life, while the lions either stalked it or pounced, mainly watching the creature swim in circles in the moat.  (Did you know deer could swim?  Me neither)   Then, eventually, the zoo folk get their act together, shooed the spectators from the area,  removed the lions from the outdoor enclosure, “rescued” the deer, found that it was (surprise surprise!) injured, and euthanized it.    Sort of like a mash up of Mutual of Omaha’s Old Yeller.   The details are here for you to peruse via the Washington Post.   http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/story/2009/11/09/ST2009110900866.html?sid=ST2009110900866      The Post’s article is pretty amusing.  My favorite parts are:   1. “Zoo spokeswoman Pamela Baker-Masson described the incident as highly unusual.”  (Well, I certainly hope so.)   2. “It involved a deer that may have entered from Rock Creek Park.”  (“May have entered from Rock Creek Park”?  As compared to the metro or the Tourmobile?)   In addition to the post article, there is a link to a series of 3 YouTube videos of the incident captured by a zoo visitor.  I’ll show the tamest one here.  It’s not particularly graphic or disturbing, particularly if you’ve ever flipped past the Discovery Channel, but it does show a small creature being chased by a big creature, so if that kind of thing bothers you, then you probably shouldn’t watch… or ever go outside again.     My favorite parts of the videos are:   1. The cheering crowd as they gather, roman coliseum like, around the pit cheering on the deer. 2. The occasional ribald commentary of the snarky guys holding the camera, including such witticisms as “that is one wet p***y” in reference to the lion jumping into the moat after the deer 3. The many appeals to God on behalf of the deer.  (Ohmigod!  Ohmigod!) 4. The disturbing laughter of the children 5. The fact that the person who took the video went out of his way to superimpose a “copyright” statement over the footage, ensuring that this would be his ticket to wealth, riches and stardom   Ah, America.   But if you want to see the real America, or at least the bizarre facsimile of America that populates the DC area, then you really need to check out the comments around this story.     As of this writing, there were over 275 comments on this article.  And let me tell you, they are a giant bag of crazy.   I have long been fascinated by the comment areas of the world wide interwebs.  There is something about the anonymity of the web that seems to encourage people to be as rude, cruel, demeaning and insane as is humanly possible.  Being online means never having to say you’re sorry, never having to be nice and never having to take anyone else’s opinions or feelings into consideration.   I’m not sure that this is a good thing.   When people complain about having to be “too PC,” I would like to point out that this is essentially why political correctness was created, because if it didn’t exist, people would, apparently, just say horrible things to each other all day long.    And also crazy things.     Apparently the comment section on an article about deer at the zoo is the perfect opportunity to extol whatever ramdom opinion you have, whether it’s about politics, football, or just general racism.   Here, in no particular order, are the most dominant themes of the comment section of this article:   • It’s Just Nature   • Democrats Are Wusses   • Republicans are Cruel   • This is really a metaphor for Health Care   • This is really a metaphor for The War in Afghanistan   • This is really a metaphor for the state of Politics   • This is really a metaphor for Obama   • This is really a metaphor for socialism   • This is really a metaphor for the Redskins… They Suck   • Deer will Kill You, Given the Chance   • The National Zoo is Lame and Run by Losers   • Lions are Lame and also Losers   • How is this Really News?   • There are a Lot of Deer Where I Live   • I Hate Poor People... And Blacks… And Jews       You may wonder just how, exactly, so many people managed to cull all of these themes from an article about a deer jumping into a lion cage .     Well, I’m not sure.  People seem to be exceptionally creative.     But, do be assured that each of these themes had between several posts or several dozen posts relating to them.  Here are some of the most astounding, copied verbatim.  I thougt about following each comment with a snarky witticism, but then I decided to let them stand alone.  They really don’t need any commentary:   “No doubt the spectators were aghast that the lions were, apparently, not vegetarian nor PETA members. Where's Pamela Anderson when she's really needed...as an hors d'oeuvres.” “Whoops, my mistake. I thought this was a story about conservatives tossing Scozzafava to the lions” “The lions represent the Republicans and the deer represented Universal Health Care.” "If you think the story of the ditzy doe who crushed a volkwagon then staggered into the path of a motorcyclist and killed him before being flattened by a UPS truck then eaten as free venison by lazy black homeless people was funny? Well, let me tell you about the cretin 2-pointer that had one bad, bad day at the zoo!" “Deer can be dangerous to humans especially this time of the year during "rutting season". They are split-hoofed animals. If they feel threatened they can attack and are capable of cutting a human being to shreds with their sharp hoofs.” “One deer : 3 lions = slashed to death. Sounds like another story of a Republican/Sarah Palin going up against the demonkrat Chicago machine/"mainstream media." “Well..I guess we dont have to worry about the deer calling a Lawyer.” “People sure are stupid.” “The one chance they had to be real Lions. I bet they'll be talking about this for the rest of their lives.  I a new lion is ever put into the cage it will be the best Lion "fish story" ever.  The deer will go from being a doe to a 10-point buck with 3 shotgun shells tied to its antlers.” “They should throw the DC Sniper in there, NOW that I would pay MONEY to see!!” “I'll bet the cheetahs were all sitting around later last night drinking beer and ragging the lions about how crappy killers they all are.” “And the Messiah appeared unto them in a vision and, glancing at his teleprompter, sang out to all those gathered, "Yes we can!" And behold, the Messiah laid on hands and the little deer's ears flickered and its little tail twitched. And the little deer’s wounds were healed and its sprang to its feet! Hallelujah! All praise the Messiah! Those gathered stood in awe of "The One" who elevated his chin in glorious admiration of himself. And he addressed the multitude, "You can have no greater love than the love of me, Barack Obama. I am your arrogant master...uh...I mean…uh…your humble servant. Fondly nicknamed Obambi, the little deer scampered back into the forest, where he lived happily ever after, spreading Lyme disease to thousands far and wide.” “That deer didn't stand a chance.  It's a lot like a taxpayer in a field of health care "reform" - doomed from the start.” “Luckily, euthanasia is probably covered under the new health care bill. Better check somewhere around page 1950.” “Democrats immediately screeched: "Those lions' are racists!" "It's all George Bush's fault!" "If only we had nationalized health insurance, this wouldn't have happened!" "It was Cheney. He shot the deer and then blamed the lions." “Those lions need to go into training. A deer practically jumps into their jaws and they let it get away? They must be Detroit lions.” “Democratic zookeepers would say, "Well, it will cost too much to take care of you, based on your actuarial worth. Please crawl away." “Perhaps the deer had been watching the first half of the Redskins game and decided that the lions den seemed like a better choice!” “Outrageous. This deer who managed to escape the lions with 'scratches' and a wound to the belly - could not survive the z00 bureucrats. They should have gone the extra mile to save it and collected more money from the visitors to see the deer which escaped the lions.” “It would be the same as if a white guy went to an ACORN protected voting booth.” “Looking over these comments makes one think perhaps not everyone ahould be allowed to vote. Ughh” “You have all been taken in by a television producer of the new reality series, "Creating Modern Fables." It is another effort on the part of Fox News to turn fiction into fact, news into theater and anything else simple minded Republicans can use to take the electorate’s collective minds off of the selling out to the insurance lobby” “Hey maybe the redskins could go to the Zoo for a field trip and see what the killer instinct actually looks like! But then they would all faint at the sight of blood!” “Pansies! And what do you expect these creatures to do? Of course they are going to kill. They are CARNIVORES. Kiddies be damned!!!” “You can see the lions mouthing the words to "Oh Happy Day".” “A good remedy for Nancy Lugosi et al and the Health Care Bill” “Typical DC Lion behavior. I bet the cubs don't even know their father” “It is against the laws of nature for a lion to kill a deer. Normally they are vegetarians and they like to watch Sesame Street and Michael Moore movies.” “What the hell is wrong with you people?  Where are the politics in this story? How does it cross your mind to bring it up?” “them's some wimpy lions.” “Kinda reminds me of Obama going to the White House and being interviewed by Fox News. Poor dear.” “Whoever at the National Zoo decided the deer wasn't worth saving is a cinch for the job of heading up Government healthcare.” “Show me a single mom and I'll show you a parasite draining the system. Single moms somehow feel they can breed all they want and our (sick) society rewards them for their sick behavior with programs such as WIC,foodstamps,Medicaid,etc.More idiots and cannon fodder bred for the army and minimum wage jobs.The plutocracy MUST continue ! Single moms somehow have the narcissistic assumption that one is "entitled" to "the experience" of childbearing.” “I just heard that Obama will apologize to the deer community tomorrow. To atone for the sins of the American people (just the whites, folks) he will open up National Health care to teh deer species, even those taht cross over the Canadian Boarder without checking in with a park ranger. Just heard it on NPR!”       Yes, America, these are your people.  Perhaps I have never heard a more cogent argument for repealing the 1st amendment.   And think about this folks.  These are the people who DO read the newspaper.  These are the smart people!   You have to admit though, there is something oddly endearing about the fact that so many people (no matter how bizarre) were looking for an opportunity, any opportunity to cast an innocuous story as one more opportunity to demonize an opposing political party a football team, or whatever the hell their own pet peeve was.   Only in DC.  Where even deer diving to their death is clearly personal.   I guess in some ways we all see ourselves in that deer.  And then it’s just a matter of extrapolating the craziest thing possible about ourselves and posting it in the comments section.     So, I guess to close I will leave you with my favorite comment from the story.   Somewhere, buried deep within the recesses of the almost 300 comments, was this loan voice of sanity, which seemed to reflect my very same response to reading through all of the crazy:   “The majority of these comments are truly bizarre.”   Well said. Posted Nov 13 2009, 06:31 AM by superdad with 2 comment(s) Filed under: news, Better off Dad, stupidity [Edit Tags]

• Three Epiphanies

  So, yesterday I had three separate and significant epiphanies.   I’m practically up for beatification now.   It was just one of those days, filled with inspiration and direction… and a little bit of stupidity….  I’ll explain.   EPIPHANY # 1 – SLEEP IS GOOD   Yesterday I did something I almost never do.  I took a nap.   I know - crazy.   Not only did I take a nap, but I had done nothing that had earned me the right to take a nap.  You see in my masochistic, twisted, guilt ridden view of the world, it would only be acceptable for me to take a nap if I had either done something to earn it (Like, I don’t know, rescuing Madeline Albright from a tsunami) or had so impaired myself through sleep deprivation that taking a nap was the only way for me to function properly the rest of the day (for instance, if I had been required to stay with Madeline Albright until 2:00 a.m. waiting for the ambulance to arrive, since the roads were all flooded from the tsunami).   But yesterday I was just tired so I decided to lie down and then I decided to fall asleep and then I decided to not get up for a little while and before I knew it, I’d been asleep for an hour.   So here’s the revelation.   I was actually a much better father for having taken that unwarranted nap.   Normally by the time 7:00pm rolls around the only thing I’m capable of saying to the children is    “Can you please, please, please, for the love of all that is sweet and decent in the world, please be quiet?”   Or   “If you do that one more time, so help me I’m going to… (I’ll leave the rest to your imagination)   But last night I was all smiles and sunshine.  I danced in the kitchen, chased the kids around the house and sang songs about Forest Whittaker.   “Oh, Forest Whittaker, Could raise his temperature,  By putting on a fur And moving to Big Sur And dating Deborah Kerr And moving in with her Oh, Yes I am quite sure That’d raise the temperature Of Forest Whittaker.”   Yes, I was just a fun guy last night.   So, my epiphany is that not being exhausted and cranky makes me a better father and that perhaps that is justification, in and of itself, to take a quick nap each day even if that means that the lawn gets mowed less frequently, the clothes get folded a little more inconsistently and the toilets get scrubbed…. well, probably never, but perhaps it’s still worth it to be as good of a father from 4pm – 9pm as I am from 6am- 4pm.   Who knew?     EPIPHANY #2 – I AM AN IDIOT   This story has two parts.  The first part is this.  Yesterday morning I forwarded a link to a couple of friends.  The link was to a webpage on wonkette.com   Wonkette is a satirical website that publishes snarky commentary on politicians in the same way that the rest of the web publishes comments about celebrities.     It’s sort of like TMZ for nerds.   Anyway, I had sent them a photo I had taken of a truck that was at the teabag protests at the capitol last week.  The truck had some horribly offensive posters on it, including a picture of a donkey excreting Obama’s head and a bumper sticker that said “King’s Dream is a Nightmare.”   Much to my surprise that wonkette had decided to post my photo and write a short article around it, so I forwarded the link to a couple of my liberal commie friends who would appreciate that.  For those of you who are interested, here is the NSFW link:   http://wonkette.com/412062/such-a-vulgarian-this-teabagger   Ok, 2nd part of the story   I am part of a stay at home dad listserv and occasionally someone will write in asking for help or suggestions on some parenting / household topic.  I, for one, asked for advice on replacing my water heater last week.   Anyway, yesterday, someone wrote in asking for help in explaining to their three year old about death.  Apparently a family friend had been in a car accident and the mother and daughter had died and he was trying to figure out how to explain this to his daughter.   I decided to write back because I knew that it was a topic that a lot of dads probably wouldn’t want to touch and because when my daughter was three her preschool teacher had unexpectedly died and then my grandfather had passed away soon after.  And I had been in the situation of trying to figure out how you explain death to a small child.   So, I wrote a long email talking about some of the things I had found helpful and including a few ideas on things to say and not to say to try to help his daughter understand.  One of the things I suggested is that he might want to pick up a couple of children’s books that deal with the issue of dying.  I suggested a couple that I had found helpful and also provided a link to a website that listed several others.   For those who are interested, here it is:   http://www.teachingheart.net/deathlitforkidss.html   However, somewhere in the process of cutting and pasting this weblink I apparently didn’t actually copy the link to the website about children’s books and instead just pasted the link to the last thing I had copied which (see where this is going?) happened to be the article about the tea bagger’s truck.   So, I wrote a heartfelt, touching and supportive email to a dad in the midst of dealing with the death of several family friends and then linked to a picture of a donkey pooping out Obama’s head.   Wow.   Luckily, my helpful wife caught this discrepancy and so politely brought it to my attention.   That was a fun follow up email to write.   So my epiphany was:  Always, always, always double and triple check the links you post in your emails.     EPIPHANY # 3 – AN OTTOMAN SAVED MY MARRIAGE   Ok, that’s a bit of an exaggeration.  My marriage wasn’t exactly in trouble, it was fine.   Completely and totally and absolutely….. fine.   You see, that’s how marriage is a lot of the time – fine.     Not great, not terrible, just fine.  It’s functional and ok, and there aren’t any problems, it’s just completely fine.   But fine is not necessarily all that great.   Well, anyway, last week I brought this old cheap IKEA ottoman out of the guest bedroom and put it in front of the couch.   I don’t remember why exactly, I think someone was staying in there and needed extra room or something, I don’t recall.  But what I do recall was that this ottoman changed our marriage from fine to … Superfine.   You see, over the past few years, our couch has gotten smaller.  I’m not sure why this is.  I just know that Sarah and I used to be able to sit on it rather comfortably and now we don’t fit as well.   Very peculiar.  Who ever heard of a shrinking couch?   Anyway, the result of living with a gradually dwindling couch is that we don’t always sit together to watch TV or read or whatever.  I’ll sit on the couch and Sarah will sit in the rocking chair, or Sarah will lie on the couch and since there’s not room, I’ll sit somewhere else or stand or whatever.   But the ottoman changed all that.   It was like a couch extension.  Once we stretched our legs out on that, there was plenty of room for both of us on the couch.  So instead of sitting apart, we were sitting together.  In fact, because the ottoman wasn’t all that wide, we were sitting close together.  Sarah would cuddle up beside me and put her head on my chest, or lean against my arm.     All of a sudden we felt so much more connected.  I was checking her out while she brushed her teeth and we were having long lingering embraces in the kitchen.  When she left for work in the morning, she might as well have been boarding a plane for Lisbon we kissed so long.     And all because of an ottoman.   So my final epiphany of the day was that a little closeness can beget a lot of closeness.   So, if your life needs improving.  If things haven’t turned out quite the way you planned, here’s my advice for you:   Take a nap, buy an ottoman and double check those email links.   Your life’s about to get a whole lot better.     Mine did. Posted Nov 10 2009, 09:24 AM by superdad with no comments Filed under: SAHD, Better off Dad, Sarah, marriage [Edit Tags]

• Only the Good Die Young… Although it wouldn’t Kill some Old Folks to Look Into It

  I’ve got another fantastic game for you! Remember a month or two ago I came up with a brand new game called dinner party?  http://familiesonly.com/Community/blogs/overdad/archive/2009/09/11/dinner-party.aspx It was a world wide hit that had people crafting their own celebrity dinner parties and sharing them with friends…… Ok, actually that’s not true.  To the best of my knowledge only one person played it and that’s because I kind of guilted them into it. Now, there’s two ways you can take rejection like that.  You can either assume that no one liked your stupid game and that perhaps you should give up trying to add a little joy and pleasure into people’s lives because, really, what’s the point. Or you can pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again.  Tomorrow’s another day!  Change is coming!  Remember the Alamo! Well, let me tell you I am a picking and dusting kind of guy.  So, I let my past failures lie in a heap where they fell (I probably should have buried them – they’re really starting to stink up the joint) and I started working on a new game.  And, boy, let me tell you, I’ve got a doozy for you! This is one of those mental games along the lines of “what would have happened if the South had won the Civil War” or “What if Chevy Chase had accepted the role of Indiana Jones when it was offered to him” (didn’t know that did ya?) This game is called, “Who Should Have Died Young?” Ok, ok, it’s a little morbid.  But that’s why it’s a game, and not a plan to go around assassinating people in a time machine. Here’s how the games works:  Think of some of the biggest icons in our cultural history: Marilyn Monroe, Elvis, James Dean.  They are all partly so revered because they died prematurely.  Their passing was mourned so irrationally, because we not only mourned their passing, but we mourned what they might have done had they lived a little longer. Of course, we don’t know that they might have done.  Perhaps, Elvis would have gotten busted on drug charges and been found passed out on a corner of Beale Street wearing nothing but a pair of blue suede shoes.  Maybe he would have gone on to do nothing more than record an album of duets with Eddie Money and Bonnie Tyler and gotten a small role as Delta Burke’s father on Designing Women. (Ok, the Designing Women thing would have been awesome). And what of James Dean?  Maybe he would have been the next Brando, or maybe he would have ended up as the next Brando.  Maybe he would have forsaken his budding promise and just ended up as the frustrated police chief in Beverly Hills Cop 3 and a series of straight to video releases until he finally regained some of his credibility by appearing as an aging gay dockworker in some indie film starring Christina Ricci and Zach Braff.  Who knows how things would have turned out and that’s what this game depends on. Which stars would have been better off to be taken at the height of their fame where it looked like they had decades of hits in front of them instead of decades of artistic mediocrity and personal failings. For instance, here’s an easy one: Michael Jackson. – Yes, we were all very sad that he just died and didn’t get to do those comeback shows in London, but come on, how much more awesome would it have been if MJ had kicked off in the late 80s right after BAD came out?  He was a genius then, at the top of his game!  This was before he spent all those years playing pinochle with Chimpanzees, doing questionable things with small children and reshaping his nose like a can of play-doh.  Sure we would have lost some of the songs off of his Dangerous album.  So, no “Black and White,” or “Heal the World,”  or “Theme Song to Free Willy.”  But wouldn’t that sacrifice have been worth it to remember his as the greatest artist / performer of all time and not as that creepy, weird guy who always went shopping in a burka? Similarly, I think Madonna could have disappeared into the Atlantic somewhere after her “Like a Prayer” album and I would have thought a lot more highly of her. But we don’t even have to go for the big guys.  What if MC Hammer had gotten hammered right after Hammer time, or Vanilla Ice had gotten iced right after Ice Ice Baby  or the Hanson kids had all been on that flight with Buddy Holly right as MmmBop was breaking. “Oh, they were so young!  Think what they could have accomplished if only the had lived!” Turns out, not much. Or what about Sinea O’Connor or Robert Smith from the Cure.  If they had only died at the right time, alternative kids with too much mascara and nose rings would still be putting their posters on the wall and listening to their mopey music while writing bad poetry alone in their dorm at night. But let’s move on to actors.  I hate to think of Molly Ringwald dying, but think how many tears there would have been for her if she had kicked off after “Pretty in Pink” and before her role as “flight attendant” in “Not Another Teen Movie.” Or what about  Burt Reynolds?  He was the hottest hunk of smoking stardom in the seventies, but he’s been looking for a comeback vehicle since “Smokey and the Bandit.”  He would have been so much better driving that trans-am off a cliff in 1978.  Probably wouldn’t have hurt to take Loni Anderson with him. Steve Mcqueen and Natalie Wood really could have benefitted from an early dismissal (Oh, whoops, I just checked and it looks like they both died at 50, I guess it didn’t really help that much) Ryan O’Neal, Mel Gibson, Ricki Schroeder, heck, even Steve Guttenberg would have been better off if they had all died in a fishing accident off the coast of Chile. And what about Winona Ryder and Christian Slater?  Oh they used to be so cool.  Now, Winona Ryder can’t even get arrested….. ok, I guess that’s not technically true, but you take my point. And Christian Slater?  Remember when they used to call him the next Brando, and now they just don’t call him at all. (cue rimshot) Very sad. Now obviously I’m not advocating that any of these people should have died, in the same way I’m not advocating that the South should have won the civil war (however, on the upside, I bet I could have gotten sweet tea in New York whenever I wanted).  But it is interesting to think how people would have been viewed differently if their lives had been cut short when it seemed like they had so much potential, before we realized they had actually used up all the potential they had. Think about who’s out there today that could really benefit from a little nostalgia. (Think what it did for Tupac, and he’s not even dead!) Is there anyone out there who doesn’t think that Miley Cyrus is probably at her peak right now or that Megan Fox wouldn’t be better off before everyone realizes she really really can’t act? So, let’s have it.  I wont’ judge you.  Who would history look on more favorably if we only saw the good stuff? Would we be making pilgrimages to George Michael’s grave, if only he had one? Would Robin Williams be seen as the funniest person alive, if only he were dead?  Whose careers could really have gotten a boost by ending? I’m dying to hear your suggestions. Posted Nov 05 2009, 08:01 AM by superdad with no comments Filed under: Better off Dad, game [Edit Tags]

• The Times They are a Changing…. Again!

  Does anyone understand why we bother with Daylight Savings time anymore? I assume the reason we have Daylight Savings has something to do with the stupid farmers.  Half the stuff our country does is because of the farmers.  Summer vacation is so kids can help bring the crops in.  Thanksgiving helps celebrate the harvest.  County fairs are a chance to socialize and see one another and compare who grew the biggest rutabaga.  Now, arguably, those are all good things.  But not daylight savings time. I hate daylight savings time.  Sure, it’s nice to get an extra hour of sleep in the fall, but at what price?  Having our sleep yanked away in the Spring time?  It’s absurd.  And let’s be honest.  It doesn’t work.  Last week, we switched our clocks back and now the sun pops up at 6:30 in the morning and sets at 5:00.  How is that helpful?  I don’t need sunlight at 6:30 a.m.?  I’m stumbling around the kitchen making coffee and getting kids dressed and letting the dog in and out of the house.  I don’t need sunlight for that.  I have this magical thing called electricity. I need sunlight in the evening.  My daughter gets off the bus at 4:10.  So now she has exactly 50 minutes of sunlight before she has to come inside and we light the kerosene lanterns and work on our quilting. Who is this helping?  How is it more helpful to have extra sunlight in the morning? Now, the irony is that daylight “savings” actually works the other way around.  The time we are in now is the regular time and the time in the summer is the imaginary “fake” time.  DST was designed to give us an extra hour of daylight in the summer. Ok. Apparently, (and I’m not making this up – I read it on Wikipedia so it must be true) DST was first proposed in the late 1800s by some guy in New Zealand who liked  to collect insects and wanted a little more daylight available to catch them and kill them and stick pins through their little tiny hearts. Seems like as good a reason as any to change the entire basis of the way we measure time on this planet. Ok, I get it.  It’s great to have an extra hour of sunlight in the summer.  But here’s the thing.  It’s also great to have an extra hour of sunlight in the winter. Why are we switching back and forth?  Why don’t we just stick with the summer time?  Why do we switch back to the stupid winter time?  Can’t we all just agree that it’s better to have more sunlight in the afternoon than in the morning? Think of the children.  Aren’t they the ones that really suffer here?  Think of their sad little faces as they have to come in from playing on the swing set just because the evil darkness is arriving full of bogeymen and child abductors and teenagers doing naughty things under the jungle gym. Yes, it’s all because of the children that I really hate switching my clock back and forth.  Partly this is because I am a father.  As an adult, I can appreciate the fact that the time is changing (for no apparent reason) and make an effort to adjust to that.  However children can not.  As it turns out, children aren’t very smart.  If you tell them to sleep an hour later or to get up an hour earlier, they do not. If you have an infant, they don’t understand DST (hell, I don’t understand DST) so when you put your baby to bed an hour early, they don’t want to go to bed, and when you tell them to sleep an hour later, they don’t want to.  If your baby wakes up at 7:00 a.m., he’s going to wake up at 7:00 a.m., even if 7:00 a.m. is really now 6:00 a.m.  Understand? It’s incredibly annoying. But the main reason I hate DST can be blamed on two monolithic all controlling bodies: Timex and the US Government. Several years ago I needed to buy a new alarm clock.  I wanted to buy one that plays CDs because I thought it would be nicer to wake up to the sweet sounds of music, rather than my current alarm clock which made a noise that sounded like geese being waterboarded (wait…. they might like that). Anyway, unbeknownst to me, the new Timex CD Alarm Clock I bought had a handy new feature, it automatically, magically, knew when DST was and would set itself to the proper time. How convenient! No more having to remember to set your clock forward or back or whatever the heck it is. (Am I the only one who can’t remember whether it’s Fall Forward / Spring Back or Fall Back and Spring Forward?  I mean you could do either…. How is that supposed to help me?) I was so pleased.  One more burden removed from my back. And then the government stepped in.  And for reasons that are clear to no one, decided to move the day we change our clocks back by a couple of weeks.  It probably had something to do with extending Christmas shopping hours…. Or terrorism…. I don’t know. Anyway, no one bothered to tell my stupid clock.  So now, twice a year, my stupid clock changes itself to a different time secretly in the middle of the night and my alarm goes off either an hour early or an hour late.  And the kicker is I never have any idea when it’s going to happen.  I can barely remember when the current DST is taking place, much less the DST from four years ago. And then, there’s something weird about the clock where whenever I try to reset it to the correct time, it keeps changing back to what it thinks the time should be for about a week. It’s like that annoying friend who is convinced that the term paper is due a week early and keeps confusing everybody by reminding them that they only have a week left when in fact you have two. I hate that guy. So basically all the time change does is annoy me.  It annoys me in the fall when it changes the sun from setting at 6:00 to setting at 5:00 and it annoys me in the spring when I have to start getting up an hour early just so some freak in New Zealand can go capture some Lord of the Rings grasshoppers and put them all in glass cases like some insectoid serial killer. So here’s my proposal America.  Let’s do away with the whole thing.  Stop changing your clocks.  Let’s just go with the summer time schedule.  Everyone seems to like it and now we won’t have to screw around with baby sleep schedules, or making children come inside an hour earlier, or causing my stupid alarm clock to make me an hour late for…. Ok, I’m a stay at home dad, I don’t really have anywhere to be, but still, it’s annoying. So, let’s do it America!  Write your congressman!  Picket your local Timex factory!  Down with Daylight Savings Time! In this time of economic hardship the only thing we need to be saving is money! Viva La Sunshine! Viva La Sleep! Viva La Children! It is Right! It is Smart! And By Golly, It is Time! Posted Nov 03 2009, 07:06 AM by superdad with no comments Filed under: Better off Dad [Edit Tags]