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.

Happy Mother's Day From Gilligan's Island

Like me, I’m sure you often wondered how characters from classic television shows are like our mothers.  Fortunately for you, I’m here to help you out.  Here is how each character from Gilligan’s Island is like a good mom (listed in order of how they were introduced in the theme song).  

Gilligan: A good mom can bring fun and light-heartedness to any situation.  After a bad report card, a nasty break-up or your tiny ship is being tossed, a mom can make you feel a little better about it.

Skipper: The hardest worker on the island was the Skipper.  The hardest worker in the house is the mom.  She can take care of the house or build a hut.  She protects the kids from bullies at school or headhunters from the next island over.

The Millionaire (Thurston Howell III): Mr. Howell was a smart business person.  Whether it is traditional business, the business of running a home or both (“bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan”), mom knows how to handle the money.  Side note: My favorite Mr. Howell quote was when he was supposed to impersonate a native.  When he spoke he said: “Moolah, moolah, moolah”.

His Wife (Lovey): Lovey brought at least a little civility and sophistication to the uncivilized, unchartered desert isle.  Moms help us remember to mind our manners, eat with utensils, don’t hog the bananas and to be polite even to the savages.

The Movie Star (Ginger Grant): Most moms I know don’t pack just evening gowns when they go on vacation, but like Ginger moms can bring beauty any place they go.

The Professor: Moms are smart.  They possess an innate ingenuity (“Innate Ingenuity” sounds like the name of some indie rock band).  The Professor could make almost anything (except a boat that would get the castaways off the island) out of coconuts and bamboo (I think The Professor was MacGyver’s dad).  Moms have the same ability.  It could be 9 PM on a Thursday night, and a mom can be told by her kid that he has a science project due on Friday.  With nothing more than a ball of yarn, a pack of stale Juicy Fruit and a thimble, mom can make a model of the solar system.

Mary Ann: Like Mary Ann, moms are sweet and caring.  Mary Ann was the tender and compassionate one on the island.  Moms are that in our homes.  Even at times when the “weather started getting rough”, moms are there with a kind word of encouragement.  Plus they make pie for us.  (By the way, the answer to the question “Ginger or Mary Ann”?  Definitely Mary Ann.)

I want to wish a very Happy Mother’s Day to my mom, The Wife and The Wife’s mom.  Happy Mother’s Day to all the other moms out there, too.  I know you’ll do your very best to keep the others comfortable in your tropic island nest (or your house).

Hola! It's Derby Day!

Today is Cinco de Mayo.  It is my understanding that this is the day that the brave people of Mexico won the right to drink funny-named beer until they pass out.  Today, frat boys, yuppies and American red necks everywhere now gladly celebrate this freedom with our neighbors to the South.  That is all I know about Cinco de Mayo, other than the fact that this is the one day a year I replace “hello” with “hola”.  So…”hola, ya’ll”.

More importantly to me, however, is that today is the 138^th running of the Kentucky Derby.  Derby is the day when people with questionable fashion judgment crowd the infield at a race track and drink cheaply- made beer and oddly-named drinks until they pass out. Oh, yeah…there’s a horse race, too.  If you struggle to find a sporting event to enjoy with your wife, The Kentucky Derby is it.  So, in honor of The Run for the Roses, here are some “Do’s and Don’ts of Derby Day”.

Don’t Drink Mint Juleps: This is the traditional drink of the Kentucky Derby.  At Churchill Downs they have a special one for Derby Week that is sold for $1,000 (yes that is dollars and not pesos).  The problem (other than “the special one” costs a $1,000 dollars not pesos) is that a mint julep is gross.  Don’t waste your time mixing one up because you’ll take one sip and say “that’s gross, where’s my bourbon or cheaply-made, funny-named beer”.  The Oaks Lilly, The Kentucky Oaks official drink, is one that your wife may enjoy.  Or, if you want a true, traditional Kentucky drink to enjoy during the Derby try sipping some Maker’s Mark or Woodford Reserve.  Or if you are really hard core, go with moonshine.

Do watch the pre-race puff pieces: Most of the time human interest stories don’t interest me.  The Derby stories are somehow different.  Amazing stories like that of a down-and-out colt from the wrong side of the track being taken in by a well-to-do trainer and finding himself one day being a first round NFL draft pick.  Am I remembering that right? Anyway, the stories of the horses, trainers, jockeys and owners are actually compelling.  You may shed a tear or two while watching some of these.  If you do, just tell your wife your eyes are watering because you're allergic to horses.



I have no idea who this is

Do make fun of “celebrities”: During the pre-race show, NBC will interview all the obnoxiously-dressed, moderately-buzzed reality TV stars you can stand. At first, it’s annoying, but it becomes fun as you try to identify any one (just one) of these “celebrities” that you’ve actually heard of.  This, too, can be a sporting event to enjoy with your wife. (Side bar celebrity sighting: A few years ago, The Wife was at a craft store during Derby Week to get supplies to make a hat.  In line next to her…none other than one of the dudes from “Queer Eye For the Straight Guy”.  I’m not sure which one it was, but I think it was the gay one).

Don’t make fun of your wife’s picks: The Wife does actually know how to handicap a bit if she wants to.  She just doesn’t always want to.  For example, yesterday during the Kentucky Oaks she based her pick on which filly had a jockey with orange silks.  Well, the winner was in orange, but she picked the wrong one wearing orange.  The point is that your WAG (wife or girlfriend) making her pick based on horse name (“’Hansen’ sounds like that boy band”), or silks (“Liaison’s jockey is wearing pink”) or color (“Creative Cause is a pretty grey horse”) may be silly or she may stumble into brilliance.  Whatever the case, don’t make fun of her pick because If you do, then you won’t get a “look at her fillies” later.  Plus when her horse (who she picked because “Mmm Bop” was a cute song) finishes ahead of yours (that you spent hours methodically selecting) you don’t want to look like too much of an idiot.

My Derby picks this year are here.  Last year I had the winner (for the first time in 8 years). Actually,  last year if you took the picks of The Wife, The Tall One, The Short One and me we had the superfecta.  A 10-cent super would have paid $2,400.  And, no, I didn’t make that wager.  Live and learn. 

Happy Derby!

Suddenly Newman Thrashes? What?

"Sudden Pneumothorax."



Yes, it's Matt Lauer

A “Sudden Nooner Thor’s Axe”?  That sounds like a weird sex thing they would feature on seedy programs like Maury Povich, Jerry Springer or The Today Show. 

That’s not what I said. I said a “Sudden Pneumothorax”.  You need to clean out your ears  and get your mind out of the gutter while you’re at it.  C’mon, people.

On a random Wednesday evening, our oldest son (aka “The Tall One”) came home from baseball practice with sharp pains in the upper right side of his chest that he started feeling while running bases.  Being the sensitive and compassionate father that I am, I’m thinking: “toughen up, Mary” (OK, I didn’t think the “Mary” part, but I do have to claim the rest of it). 

Not a collapsed lung.

The pain had subsided after dinner, but to test it The Wife sends The Tall One out to run to see if the pain comes back.  He doesn’t get down the driveway before he’s headed back in the house in pain.  I load him in the car and take him to a nearby urgent care facility.  We get right in, the doctor looks at him says he thinks it’s a muscle spasm, but he’ll do an x-ray to be on the safe side.  Ten minutes later he is sending us to the emergency room.  The Tall One has a partially collapsed lung.  Or, in doctor talk: “sudden pneumothorax”.  In normal-people-talk it means: “Surgery and 13 days in the hospital”.  In blogger talk: “That’s why I haven’t posted anything new in a while”.

To jump to the end, The Tall One went through the surgery very well, has been home about a week and is recovering nicely.  This is apparently not an uncommon condition for tall, skinny guys, but before now…who knew? The story within the story, however, is what you learn about your family (and your marriage) in a situation like this.

Thing Learned #1: The Tall One is an outstanding young man.  Without a doubt I am biased, and when I’ve shared this “thing learned” with people they are quick to tell me that he takes after his mother.  I don’t dispute that.  Throughout this trial he maintained a positive attitude, was exceptionally appreciative to his nurses and never sang the blues (he has a collapsed lung…did you expect him to break out in some B.B. King or Muddy Waters?).  Whether I have much to do with his mature outlook or not, it brings me a lot of comfort to know for certain that my 18-year old son is not a boy, but a man.  Which brings another thought…d@*!, I’m getting old.

If you build it...

Thing Learned #2: There is no substitute for good family and friends.  People came to visit The Tall One like he was in a baseball field in an Iowa cornfield rather than in the thoracic ward of the hospital.  People brought food, encouragement and, best of all, company for a bored teenager.  People were willing to put their lives on hold, in some cases, to help us out.  I cannot tell you how humbling that is.

Thing Learned #3: The Wife is an amazing woman and mother.  This is not news to me, nor should it be news to you if you've read this blog at all.  Her devotion, her composure and her patience were evident throughout this trial.  She is doing a tremendous job raising two great sons and one better-than-average husband.  As we talked about how we supported each other as we both supported The Tall One, we concluded, once again, that we make a pretty good team.

Thoughts on Meteorology and the First Signs of Spring (Reprise)

Hi there.  "Reprise" is a fancy word for "rerun".  Not like Rerun on "What's Happening" but like what Saturday Night Live calls an "Encore Presentation".  With today being the first day of Spring I thought I'd re-share (is that a word?) this blog post with you. 

As a preface or appendix or addendum (pick the word you like best) I want to say that despite the poking fun at weather people in this post, they do a tremendous job when real emergencies arise.  Countless lives are saved by the accuracy with which they can pinpoint major storms and tornados.  If only we could get an official ruling on that "partly sunny" vs. "partly cloudy" thing.  Oh, well...enjoy and "Happy Spring"!


The wife knows I'm not a fan of local news. It's all homicide investigations, poorly reported sports and the weather. That's the worst of it - the weather. They call their otherwise unemployable weather people "The Storm Team" as they overuse gadgets with hyperbolic names like "Mega Gargantu-Doppler 3000". If you are using expensive radar technology to zoom into your ex-wife's backyard, then you have problems.

"Loud Noises!"

It's not just the locals (and believe me, it is likely the locals where you live, too. It's the same most places). They've given these people their own cable channel (who do they think they are? Celebrity chefs? Oprah? For a slight tangent on cable shows, click here). The weathermen and weathergirls (or as they like to be called, "meteorologists") give us terms like partly sunny and partly cloudy and they don't know the difference between the two. (There is a reason that this guy played the weatherman in Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy.)

After a long, dark, cold winter we are ready for signs of hope and renewal – signs of spring. Traditionally, the weather people would be the prophets carrying the message of this welcome change in seasons. They would wear us out with the whole groundhog thing on February 2^nd, but we would be OK with it as it would be the first mention of spring. A couple of weeks later they'd tempt you with a ridiculous 30 day forecast that shows a few days stretching up to the lower 70s. Then, finally they would show us video of an egg standing on end at the equinox and declare spring's arrival. Well, now they've messed that up. They have proclaimed March 1 as "meteorological spring". First, Al Roker got skinny, now this. These people have got to be stopped.

So, we've known for a while now that we can't count on them to get the weather right (the symbol in the forecast for today has a sun peeking out from behind a cloud with rain and a lightning bolt coming from the cloud. Add a snow flake, a tornado and a question mark and I think they'll have all their bases covered. Better yet, just put down the question mark. It's more honest.) Now we can't even rely on them to tell us when spring begins. You can always look to the more traditional signs of spring like the birds chirping, flowers blooming and trees blossoming (or do trees bloom and flowers blossom?). However, as I'm sure you do, too, I have my own signs I look for to tell me that spring is, at long last, here.

The Masters. Not so much the golf tournament itself ("Cinderella boy, tears in his eyes"), but the commercials that air a couple of weeks before it: The serene video of azaleas blooming into blossom and dogwoods blossoming into bloom with the soft tones of The Masters theme song in the background. This is not only a reminder that the wife and I haven't played golf in five months, it also means that spring is ready to embrace us with warmth and sunshine and pollen and Cadbury eggs.

Women wearing shorts. Now, it's not what you may be thinking, so allow me to explain. Guys will wear shorts in any weather. It can be 10-below with a foot of snow on the ground and a guy will go outside in shorts ("I only have to be outside from the car to the store"). A woman wouldn't do that. You rarely see a woman out in shorts if the weather doesn't call for it. So, when you see a woman outside in shorts you can thank the God of Nature…spring is back. Women readers, please skip the next paragraph.

"I love ya honey"

Pssst, hey dude…do you think the women bought that? It sounded pretty good, didn't it? If we get a cold snap in a few days go to the store in shorts so we don't blow our cover. Hey, man – quit singing "Hot Legs". That won't help our cause so get that song out of your head already. Thanks, bro.

Hey! Welcome back, ladies. You didn't miss much. Just a little guy talk…grunting and burping, mostly.

Finally, the most accurate sign of spring around our house is a calendar full of baseball. Both of our boys play for their schools, I help coach one of their teams and the wife and I (mostly the wife) do a lot of volunteer work with the entire high school program. From Saturday March 19^th through April 2^nd we have baseball on the schedule every single day. I don't think God rested on the seventh day. I think He said "let's play two". So, honey, put on your shorts…we are headed to the ball park. But be sure to check the weather before we go.

Vasectomy Madness, Baby!

Snip, snip.

“You want to do what to my what with what?”



That was probably a mild version of the response from the first guy asked to undergo a vasectomy.  That same response has been said (or at least thought) by every guy presented with the option of “The Big V”.  In recent years, a trend has developed in the vasectomy world.  Men are scheduling their “procedures” at the start of the NCAA basketball tournament.  The thinking is: “If I let a stranger take a knife to my fellas, my wife will let me watch four days of hoops?  Where do I sign up?!”

I am not a doctor.  I do not play one on TV.  I do not play one on my blog. So the technical, medical aspects of the vasectomy may be off just a little.  I realize it’s not exactly “a knife to the fellas”, but that is how we see it, ladies.

Some urology clinics actually run specials during the opening week of March Madness and they see their appointments go up by as much as 50%.  Many of these clinics give away t-shirts or cups (the kind you drink from, not the protective ones), free pizza, a bag of frozen peas (to put in your, ummmm, lap) or other promotional trinkets.  I hope there are not any clinics that offer group discounts.  That’s an assembly line process that even Henry Ford would object to.

So, what does this have to do with Keep A Happy Wife?  Well, if you and your wife are done making babies but still want to “practice making babies” without risking making a baby, then a permanent solution is needed. The option for women is a surgical procedure, typically requiring a hospital stay, under general anesthesia.  For guys there are three options:

1. Vasectomy – A few hours in a clinic with local anesthesia.

2. Nosexforme – This is a simple, but potentially distressing option performed (or not performed in this case) by your wife that means you no have sex no more.

3. Bobbitization – This is a simple, but definitely painful option that is also performed at home by your wife with a sharp implement of her choosing.  Typically this will occur in your sleep.  It will require a call to 911, an extended hospital stay and awkward explanations to your buddies if you shower at the gym.  I know a couple of guys who kept putting off their vasectomy and kept getting their wife pregnant who were dangerously close to this being their fate.

It has been a few years since The Wife and I discussed this topic.  (To be sure, it needs to be a “couple’s decision”.  Going rogue and getting the “V” done without your wife being in agreement with it is about as selfish as refusing to have the procedure done in the first place.)  The most important decision for us was to determine that we were done having kids (I should say having “more kids”.  We kept the ones we already had). The question of “To V or not to V” wasn’t really an issue.  It’s the simplest option.

The truth is, however, a vasectomy is nerve-racking for a guy and shouldn’t be just shrugged-off as “no big deal”.    If I could do one thing differently, I would have spent more time finding a doctor.  My doctor, while ultimately “effective” in the procedure, lacked any bed-side manner, whatsoever. 

You're gonna feel a small prick

As the local anesthetic was being administered, the doc, needle in hand, said “you’ll feel a small prick”.  Nervous and trying to make a joke, I said, “You will, too, doc”.  He didn’t get it.

While the procedure itself isn’t painful due to the anesthesia, it is uncomfortable…like a trip to the dentist (though if your dentist starts working “down there”, you don’t have a very good dentist).  Understandably, that discomfort is heightened by the sensitive nature of the procedure itself.  So, when the doctor perceived that I was “uncomfortable” he went to his “Bedside Manner 101” class and dead-panned: “Have you read any books lately or do you have interesting hobbies?”.  I would have mocked him if he didn’t have me in such an extremely compromising position. 

So when you and your wife come to the point in your life that the word “vasectomy” starts creeping into conversations, don’t let “macho” get in the way of making a “manly” decision.  A couple of “snips” can be a way to show her how much you love her.  Just don’t go under the knife so you can watch a few extra days of hoops. You can work out a better deal than that to watch the NCAA tourney.