Tag: Culture

It takes manliness to crawl under the house, even if you’re screaming

imageThere comes a time in every man’s life when he must set an example for his son by crawling under the house to fix something. This must be done with apparent fearlessness even though he knows whatever needs fixing is going to be located in the darkest corner of the home’s underbelly, probably behind a spider web the size of a commercial fishing net.

Several years ago, I used plywood to seal up the underside of our home and stop what I suspected were nightly “rave” parties hosted by our cat. These parties generally started around 11:30 p.m. and were held directly beneath our bedroom floor, where it sounded like 20 cats playing Twister. Naturally, I had no choice but to break up these parties by getting out of bed and shoving our 60-lb. Labrador headfirst through the crawl space in our closet floor.

My point is this: Sealing things up stopped the cat parties. Unfortunately, it also turned the crawl space under our home into a frightening black void where, thanks to evolution, a species of hairy, sightless, spider-like rodents with large fangs and the ability to mobilize telepathically has nested, colonizing into the hundreds.

Possibly even thousands.

I know this because I’ve shined a flashlight down there and — this is not an exaggeration — I’m pretty sure I saw something move.  Continue reading It takes manliness to crawl under the house, even if you’re screaming

I’m not exactly sure when “sexy” happened

imageI’ve seen a lot of strange things on Facebook;

Cats doing chin-ups.

A naked guy playing flaming bagpipes while riding a unicycle.

Kanye West.

But a few days ago, as I was scrolling through my Facebook notifications, I was tagged in a post with 35 others who had been listed as “The Neighborhood’s Sexiest Men.” I stared at it for a moment then, naturally, decided to restart my iPad.

Something was clearly wrong, like that time Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” started playing on my laptop and wouldn’t stop until the battery ran out.

I wasn’t about to re-live that nightmare again.

That’s when my wife came in and pointed to the same link, which she shared to her Facebook page with the comment, “Yep. That’s my HUSBAND!”  Continue reading I’m not exactly sure when “sexy” happened

But on a serious note, it’s National Hamburger Month

imageIf you’re a vegetarian or any other type of non-meat-eater, I’d like to start this column by saying I realize National Hamburger Month isn’t for everyone. Then again, May also happens to be National Salad Month — and no one here is passing any judgements on you for that. So I hope we can all approach May with tolerance and understanding in regard to each other’s lifestyle choice in eating preferences.

Although let’s be honest; mine is better because it has bacon on it.

Most people don’t know that hamburgers have actually been around since the time of Genghis Khan, whose riders would shove pieces of meat under their saddles to create minced meat patties through the combination of heat and friction while riding. In fact, historians speculate Khan’s empire may not have spread so quickly had he preferred his burgers rare instead of well done. But that’s just a theory. It’s also worth noting that one rider began adding carrots and onions to the meat under his saddle during longer distances to create the first rump roast.

Ok fine, I made that last part up.  Continue reading But on a serious note, it’s National Hamburger Month

What an escaped hamster taught me about crisis management

imageWhen you find yourself force-feeding Pepto Bismol into your child’s constipated hamster, you figure you’ve faced one of your greatest challenges as a parent. In fact, over the years, it has become the measuring stick by which all family crisis is measured:

“He backed the car into a tree? Well, I suppose it’s still better than dealing with a constipated hamster…”

In fact, the only crisis that has come close — appropriately enough — involved the same hamster. It was a moment that began with a simple statement from my daughter.

“Dad, I can’t find Squiggles.”

Those words, uttered just three nights after the constipation incident, transformed a quiet Wednesday evening into a full-scale hamster hunt. Within minutes, our team was assembled around the kitchen table for a briefing.

“There’s no telling how long he’s been on the outside,” I said. “There’s a good chance he’s already assumed a new identity — perhaps as a mouse or gerbil. Keep you eyes open.”  Continue reading What an escaped hamster taught me about crisis management

Grab your streamers, we’re bringing May Day back!

imageSomewhere, lost between the risen Lord of Easter Sunday and the more laid-back Dos Equis guy of Cinco de Mayo, is the Roman flower goddess Flora, who used to reign supreme as THE party icon this time of year.

Nowadays, any May Pole dancing is purely coincidental, at strip clubs, with the only reference to Flora the flower goddess being dancers named “Daisy.” How did a celebration dating back before Jesus somehow get lost in the shuffle between Easter eggs and Mexican beer bottles?

Even when I was a kid, which I’d like to point out was well after the resurrection and as recent as the 1970s A.D., I remember dancing around the sixth-grade May Pole and savoring the opportunity to hold hands with Sara Getlost as she cried out in springtime rapture, “Ewww! Ewww! Your hands are SWEATY! Ewww!”

It’s that kind of wild, springtime ecstasy that May Day and the goddess Flora were all about.  Continue reading Grab your streamers, we’re bringing May Day back!

There’s something I’ve been meming to tell you

imageMemes.

They are the Superbowl commercials of our daily lives, offering a moment of laughter or introspection without the obligation of remembering who made them. The word “meme” became part of my vocabulary about six months ago, thanks to my teenagers, who are constantly enhancing my life with important terminology. Without them, I would be the Fred Flintstone of social media living in a world of The Jetsons, texting “Yabba Dabba Doo!” with my thick thumbs only to have it auto-corrected to “Abba Dances Too!”

I would be alone in the cyberworld. A man on a deserted social media island. Out of touch. Except for the Abba spam.

But fortunately my kids keep me plugged in and — when it comes to what’s trending — on the cutting edge. Sure, if we’re being honest it’s an edge that needs sharpening. That’s what I have my teenagers for! And yes, they sometimes (i.e., more often than not) regret keeping Dad in the loop with what’s trending. For example, when the “Damn, Daniel!” vines and memes went viral, my kids shared them with me — which got me thinking:

What if Daniel had been Danny LaRusso from “Karate Kid” instead?  Continue reading There’s something I’ve been meming to tell you

Ashes to ashes, dust to… Hey, not so fast!

imageThis summer I’ll turn 50.

There. I said it.

The truth is, I haven’t given it much thought because I don’t feel 50. Sure, there are some days I roll out of bed, walk to the bathroom and realize the creaking and popping sounds I hear aren’t coming from the floorboards. And yes, I’ve noticed when I’m cleaning out my razor it looks like someone used it to shave our neighbor’s grey Schnauzer. But most days I throw on a rocker T-shirt or slim-fit dress shirt, leave it untucked over my jeans, lace up my superhero Vans or hiking boots and am on my way.

Then I rush back in for a second trip to the rest room.

But still… I’m technically on my way.

However, over the last several months I’ve started getting reminders from society’s collective data bank that I am getting older. The first came in my email back in January, when I got one of those Singles Looking for Love In Your Area! messages. I’ve received many of these over the years, and they always include the image of an attractive 30-something woman in a sun dress laughing with an equally attractive 30-something man as they sip wine on a beach at sunset.

Not anymore.  Continue reading Ashes to ashes, dust to… Hey, not so fast!

My friend’s carbon footprint leaves grass clippings everywhere

imageAfter years of creating ad campaigns for high-profile companies like Coca-Cola, a good friend of mine in Atlanta has decided to do what many successful advertising people do when they reach that point in their careers where they can simply LOOK at a new product and, without any hesitation whatsoever, begin to vomit:

They leave advertising behind to launch their own lawn care business.

Like some of history’s most successful entrepreneurs, Fred spent time studying his new market, its trends and the competition before assembling a detailed business plan, which he described as follows: “I bought a lawnmower.”

On the surface, this may not sound like much of a business plan. But as Fred pointed out, what sets him apart from other lawn care enterprises around Atlanta — aside from his limited grasp of Spanish — is the TYPE of mower and equipment he’s using. While other lawn care enterprises utilize gas-powered equipment that emit enough exhaust smoke to divert air traffic as far west as Alabama, “I use manual-reel mowers, electric gear and hand tools in order to reduce emissions and promote more responsible, planet-friendly yard work,” Fred explained.

I considered this for a moment — this idea of promoting more responsible, environmentally-conscious yard work — before responding with, “Hahahahahahahahahahaha!”

“No, really,” said Fred, who cited an EPA study that stated that a piece of gas-powered lawn gear actually creates more pollution than a car.

“Unless it’s a Gremlin,” he quickly added.  Continue reading My friend’s carbon footprint leaves grass clippings everywhere

Dignity is easier to swallow with a little hot sauce

imageWithin our lives there are certain moments that inspire a deeper understanding of ourselves. I experienced such an epiphany yesterday morning during a quiet moment of introspection; crouched in the backyard; sprinkling dog poop with hot sauce.

To clarify, I was not attempting to create the world’s most disgusting Cajun appetizer. According to a book on canine behavior, this would train our dog to avoid eating his “leftovers.” It was in that moment, while clutching a bottle of Tabasco and trying not to be seen by my neighbors, I came to realize that somewhere along the way providing our dog with decent manners had become more important than maintaining my personal dignity.

How did this happen?

I’m a 49-year-old man who survived the diaper phases of two children — both of whom were heavy eaters. I’ve had my share of high profile, low-dignity diaper changes, one of which required quick thinking, commando-like precision, and a paper plate. I’ve sat across from my four-year-old son at a busy restaurant in downtown San Francisco, handed him a cheese stick appetizer, and watched him yak up what appeared to be everything he’d consumed since graduating to solid foods. I tried to salvage the situation by waiting for a lull in gastrol activity and then racing him into the men’s room. And let me just say had the rest rooms been clearly marked, we probably would’ve made it.  Continue reading Dignity is easier to swallow with a little hot sauce

Because it’s the moments that matter most

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Our lives are filled with moments, many of which pass us by without notice. We’re a busy society, afterall. Updating. Downloading. Plugging in. Rushing out. Tweeting. Streaming. Always planning ahead. Constantly feeling behind.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, we lose track of what really defines our lives and who we are — to others as well as ourselves. It’s not the texts or Tweets, posts or pins.

It’s the moments.  Continue reading Because it’s the moments that matter most