What Could Be More American Than Doing Yard Work? Not Loverboy. (Encore Presentation)

In honor of both Independence Day and The Wife's birthday (this is one of The Wife's favorite posts), here is an "Encore Presentation" of a Keep A Happy Wife blog entry.  Here's a tip: don't let the only gift you give your wife for her birthday be a recycled blog post). Enjoy...Happy Independence Day.

Just a quick post today folks as you head into the weekend everybody's been working for (Try not to go off the deep end. If you do you'll need a second chance. Oh.). Let's talk about yard work. I love yard work. Mowing. Mulching. Trimming. It's something of a passion of mine. Oh. Wait…No it's not.

I have a tough time enjoying an activity that is commonly assigned to inmates during their stretch in the county lockup. When was the last time you had this conversation with your wife?

You: "Hey, honey, do you want to go to the movies tonight?"
Wife: "No way. Let's go down in the basement and bang out a few license plates".
You: "Brilliant idea! That sounds like much more fun. While we're at it, let's put on our orange jump suits and pick up trash along the highway".

Unless "bang out a few license plates" is a euphemism for something else, you have never had that conversation in your life. So, forgive me if I don't enjoy yard work. (Also, forgive me if you don't like reading something that looks like a play – you know, like Bill Shakespeare. I've got a couple sections in here tonight that are written that way. It wasn't planned. It just happened. It ain't "to be or not to be", but it's better than any skit Anthony Michael Hall was in on Saturday Night Live).

Despite my best instincts to the contrary, yard work was done this evening and I wasn't "loving every minute of it". We bought mulch a few months ago but didn't get any of it out until tonight. Between rain, baseball, tennis and countless other excuses (legitimate and otherwise) it was a chore that remained undone for far too long. I had to start working this item off the list to Keep A Happy Wife.

It was hot. Hot as a Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover. And to keep with the Loverboy theme…The Kid Is Hot Tonite. (By the way, Loverboy was on the "American Summer Concert Series" today on Fox & Friends. Do they realize that Loverboy is not from America? They are Canadian. Who's on next week? Men at Work? Ah-ha?)

To those who do lawn maintenance and landscaping as a profession, I mean no disrespect by my loathing of yard work. If you do this work every day and you do it well, then my sweat-soaked hat is off to you. First, it is hard work and that is an honorable thing. Second, the yard maintenance profession is full of entrepreneurs. Warren Buffet, General Electric and Time Warner aren't doing leveraged buy-outs of lawn mowing conglomerates. I bet Ted Turner doesn't even mow his own yard (Is he even still alive? I don't remember and I'm too tired to Wiki it). An industry composed entirely of entrepreneurs is to be saluted. Ain't that America? (Although, many in that industry, like Loverboy, aren't from America…but that is America, too.).

So…where was I? Oh, yeah. It was hot. While all of the mulch didn't get out (we had 50 bags), the front yard is done and that is a good dent in it. Good enough to impress the Wife a bit and ease my guilt over playing golf tomorrow and then going to the track afterwards (By the way, Belmont picks are in the Triple Take on Sports section).

If you plan on putting out mulch anytime soon (and if you are sane, you've already had it done for months), I've put together a list of Mulching Pit Falls to avoid and make this cruel and unusual task a bit more bearable.


  1. Mulch Foot: This is a condition where you dump a bag of much on your foot getting mulch all in your shoe and sock. If you find yourself with a case of "Mulch Feet" you should just quit and go back inside (but take off your shoes before you go in the house).



Moments before crashing next door.



2. Left Eye Blind: No, this isn't a new alternative rock band. This occurs when sweat drips down your forehead and into your left eye. I don't seem to have that much trouble with my right eye. Your results may vary.

3. Wilbur Wright: A "Wilbur Wright" is when a breeze kicks up and carries an empty bag of mulch into the neighbor's yard. It's called a "Willbur Wright" because the bag goes about as far as the Wright Brothers first flight went (and Wilbur was the pilot). Plus you couldn't call something this annoying an "Orville Wright". He was the cool Wright brother. Chicks dug Orville.

Chick at bar: "So, your name is Orville. Just like that popcorn guy".
Orville: "Yes, it is".
Chick at bar: "Well, what do you do Orville? Do you make popcorn, too"?
Orville: "Oh, never mind what I do. Let's talk about you. So tell me….what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this".
Wilbur (interrupts): "We make bicycles. We are going to make a bicycle fly".
Chick at bar: "Make a bicycle fly? Who do you guys think you are? E.T."?
Ironically, Wilbur was a terrible wingman.

4. Rake Face: This is pretty much what it sounds like. Try not to hit yourself in the face with a rake. It will leave a mark and stings significantly more than Left Eye Blind and is more difficult to treat (and explain) than Mulch Foot.

5. Stroke: This, too, is pretty much what it sounds like. Don't have a stroke. Did I mention it was hot out? I don't think I had a stroke. Of course, I may be typing a blog that reads like I tried to transcribe the lyrics as sung on an R.E.M. album and just not realize it.

Enough for yard work. Enjoy your weekend. If you play your cards right, maybe you'll get to "bang out a few license plates" (wink, wink – or as the 1981 Loverboy album would say "get lucky").

Fatherhood: So Easy a Cave-Dad Could Do It

As dads we all question or second guess how good a job we are doing as fathers.  As my older son (aka “The Tall One”) begins college this fall, I hear the “woulda, coulda, shoulda” voices in my head more than ever.  These are they same voices that tell me I'm a good dancer and that french fries count as a vegetable, so take that for what it's worth.

To help myself and all dads out there, here is a list of three simple things (none of which are ground breaking) you can do for your children today (or any day) that will make being a father so easy…even a cave-dad could do it. 

1. Say “I love you”.  Everybody wants to hear that they are loved. Even the teenage boy with the cool haircut wants to hear that they are loved.  So does the other teenage boy talking to you on his cell phone while he is hanging out with his friends.   We can provide our kids with a great sense of security by letting them know that their dad loves them regardless of place, time, haircut or circumstance.
2. Tell them you are proud of them.  One of the things that has always emboldened me has been when my dad tells me he is proud of me.  This was true when I was just a kid and it is still true today.  While telling this to your child is a great way to encourage them and give them hope, it also gives you the chance to remind them that they could not have accomplished jack in their lives without you because you made them.
3. Spend time with them.  Especially when your kids are young, time equals value.  As they get older that formula still works, it just becomes a little more complicated.  You may have to work around their ball practices, dates and even work schedules, but giving them your time still speaks volumes to them about their worth to you.

There are sure to be many mistakes we make as dads. There will be countless things that we'll wish we could have done differently.  However, if your kids know you love them, know you are proud of them and have had you present in their lives, then you may just be in the realm of the "world's greatest dad". Happy Father's Day!

To help us all feel even better about how we rate as dads, here is a brief list of "Dads Not Better Than You".

Have You Considered Your Glove Compartment Lately?

Compartmentalize.  It’s from the ancient Hebrew meaning “glove compartment”.  As in: “Hail, Jebediah, thou hast left thine shades innest mine donkey's glove compartment”.  When was the last time you took inventory of your car’s glove compartment?  Here’s what I found in mine:

·         Registration and proof of insurance 2012

·         Toothpaste, toothbrush and floss from my last not one, not two, but three dentist visits

·         Garmin

·         Registration and proof of insurance 2011

·         Granola bar

·         A small box of band aids

·         Coupon for $5 off an oil change that expired in August 2011

·         A pocket-size copy of The New Testament (with Psalms and Proverbs)

·         A couple of golf tees

·         Napkins

·         A greeting card I bought for The Wife, but haven’t given to her yet (keep a spare handy)

·         A receipt from McDonald’s for a sweet tea and a biscuit from March 2010

·         A CD case (no CD) for Rush’s album “Presto”.  The album came out in 1989, but the CD case hasn’t been there since then.

Two things to note here and one point of clarification: first, the clarification.  I have a toothbrush and toothpaste in my house.  So, don’t think that I don’t use them just because they are also in my glove compartment.  Or, that I just brush my teeth in my car.  That would be weird or something.  How are you supposed to post tweets, drive and brush your teeth at the same time?

Now, the two things to note: One, no gloves, so why is it called…nevermind.  Two, there’s a lot of stuff in there.  Which, finally, brings me to my point: there’s a lot of stuff in there.

One thing that I think is common to most men and a frustration to most wives is our difficulty in “compartmentalizing”.  Now, when I use that term I’m not meaning psychologically walling off an unpleasant part of your life so you don’t have to deal with it (like that one part of 6^th grade when I parted my hair in the middle – hello, Shaun Cassidy).  I mean not letting our various other roles in life intrude upon our role in the family.  I catch myself doing this all the time.  My butt is on the couch at home, but my mind is running through possible solutions to problems at work.  Or a baseball game that may have been over for hours, but I’m re-hashing the things I could have done differently as a coach to help our team play better.  Or over-analyzing my putting stroke in my brain and trying to figure out why I’ve been pushing everything to the right.  All this while I’m at home with The Wife and not a word of any of it comes out my mouth.  I’m not keeping things in their proper “compartment” or maybe I’m just letting a compartment full of stuff spill out in places it doesn’t belong.

Like my glove compartment (or George’s wallet to those looking for a Seinfeld analogy), there’s a lot of stuff in there. Some of it is meaningful.  Some of it is useless.  But, it is all in there taking up space, often keeping me from finding what is important at the moment. 

It’s a difficult pattern to break and after nearly 23 years of work and marriage I have come to a conclusion. There isn’t any benefit to rummaging through the glove compartment of my mind and focusing intently on what amounts to my proof of insurance and wondering if it is current?  Do I have enough coverage?  Should I listen to the President from “24” and buy Allstate?  That mistake at work won’t get undone or that missed putt won’t go in by dwelling on it. 

How does one break this cycle?  Here is my honest and professional opinion: I don’t know….you’re welcome.

I’ve read some articles on this and the authors must all assume I’m a dope-smoking, Birkenstock-wearing, tree-hugging fancy pants (they may have been fooled by the granola bar).  So, I’ve got three things I’m going to try and I’ll let you know how The Wife says it goes.  First, a really good hug and kiss when I walk in the door from work.  We both have to put aside what we’re doing or thinking about and focus on each other.  Plus, I am in favor of hugs and kisses.

Second, I’ll listen to music more often on the way home.  I typically listen to talk radio or sports talk and that is just more junk to think about.  If I listen to music then I can come in singing her a song.  I’m sure she’ll appreciate being serenaded to The Beastie Boys “No Sleep ‘Til Brooklyn”.  The point being, I can share something light-hearted with her each day when I get home.

Third, well, I don’t have a third thing yet, but all lists of helpful advice are supposed to be at least three things long.  So, once again…you’re welcome.  If I come up with a third, I’ll let you know.   Wait a minute, I just found my notes and remembered what the third thing really was: honesty.  More like acknowledgement, really.  If  I can identify that my person is present with The Wife but my mind is elsewhere, then I can simply tell her: Wife, I find myself thinking about work/sports/hobbies/meaning of life/the illogical popularity of Owen Wilson so come over here and kiss me before I sing “Free Bird” to you.

One other thing…talking.  Talking with The Wife about such things would help, too.  That, however, is another blog for another day.

I think this is just crazy enough to work or at least not hurt.  Now, if you’ve seen my 2010 car registration or if you borrowed my Rush CD, please let me know.  I won’t be able to get it out of my head until I find them.