Tag: humor

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

That time I decided to quit writing

image Over the weekend, I had the chance to work with some young writers, one of whom asked me the proverbial question, “Did you always want to be a writer?”

I smiled, nodded my head and replied, “Oh, hell no.”

After an awkward silence, I went on to explain that I had been writing stories since I could chew a pencil eraser. And while it has always been a part of me, it wasn’t until making the conscious decision to give it up for a while that I truly understood the importance of writing in my life — and how, without it, I wasn’t completely me. However, without that experience, I would still be thinking of writing as a pursuit rather than what it really is:

Something that finds you. 

I quit writing  back in 2006. For almost a year. It had nothing to do with the typical kind of frustrations every writer faces, such as not having a readership or being told it’s time to “get serious” with your life by family, friends or every publisher on the West coast. It wasn’t the result of drug addiction or alcohol abuse, although I did find myself addicted to watching Grey’s Anatomy, which made me WANT to drink.  Continue reading That time I decided to quit writing

Because Marvel doesn’t have an Aquaman…

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Because, let’s be honest: We know it’s only a matter of time…

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

Why NASA will never let me order furniture

imageIt wasn’t until dragging our furniture onto the patio during our spring cleaning that I realized our couches looked like they were purchased from a crackhouse garage sale. After years of having the dogs rub themselves along the front, and motionless teenagers planted on the cushions for hours at a time, they were dirty, lumpy and misshapen.

And so were our couches.

After a discussion about the merits of keeping our old set and the cost of replacing them with a new one, my wife and I decided to go ahead and get rid of our old sofa and love seat.

Total elapsed time of this conversation: 11 seconds.

That includes the eight seconds we spent covering the couches with a tarp so no one else would see them. Naturally, before going to the furniture store, I needed to measure the wall and floor space in the livingroom to ensure we wouldn’t order the wrong size couches and end up having a conversation like this:

Me: Honey, would you like me to grab you a soda from the fridge?
My wife: Only if you’re going that way.
Me: It’s no trouble. The other end of the couch is in the kitchen anyway.  Continue reading Why NASA will never let me order furniture

Hurry! It’s not too late to celebrate Frozen Food Month!

imageIt’s been more than 80 years since Clarence Birdseye, inspired by ancient food preservation methods used by Arctic Eskimos, made history by introducing the very first frozen food option: “Savory Caribou on a Stick.” Though his first selection was met with little enthusiasm, Birdseye persisted and eventually created a line of frozen vegetables that many of us are still gagging on today.

I, for one, am still unable to walk past lima beans in the frozen food section without getting the dry heaves. This reaction stems from my childhood, and a spoonful of lima beans I’ve been trying to swallow since 1973.

Unless you’ve been hermetically sealed and stuck in a freezer, you already know March is “National Frozen Food Month.” Coincidentally, I should mention this happens to fall in the same month as “National Ear Muff Day,” “Extraterrestrial Abduction Day” and “National Pig Day,” meaning that, for anyone whose pig happened to be wearing ear muffs at the time it was flash frozen by alien abductors, this is a big month for you.  Continue reading Hurry! It’s not too late to celebrate Frozen Food Month!

Parents, it’s time to rally for having spring break TOO!

imageSome of you may already be participating in the annual celebration of spring break. And by “participating” I mean coming home from work at lunch to find your teen still in pajamas eating Pop-Tarts straight out of the box while playing Call of Duty or streaming Supernatural reruns on Netflix.

Being a parent, you will smile and playfully tousle their hair. You’ll ask them if they’re enjoying their much-needed vacation from another hard month of schooling. They will grunt in response, causing you to chuckle as you walk to the kitchen, open the refrigerator, and find nothing left but a chilled cantaloupe rind.

“You must’ve worked up an appetite,” you’ll say, though what you’re really thinking is:

Between early-release days, in-service days and holidays, my kids spent a total of nine days in actual SCHOOL last month! How is this even FAIR! I hate you! I hate everyone!

Oops, sorry! That last part was my teenagers.

My point is, the time has come to expand spring break to include EVERYONE so we can all enjoy a week of unfettered fun. And naturally, when I say “everyone,” I realize there are certain positions so important to our country’s infrastructure they can’t shut down without causing our nation to crumble. So, I’m sorry: cooks, servers and bartenders, you’ll have to draw straws for President’s Day.  Continue reading Parents, it’s time to rally for having spring break TOO!

Monday, Hasty Dawn is giving me the chance to #BeReal

imageI’ve been a fan and follower of Hasty Dawn’s terrific #BeReal blog series for quite a while, marveling at the honesty and insight shared by folks revealing their truths in the hopes of helping others — either through offering perspective or inspiration. Sometimes, it’s just good to know you aren’t the first or last person to tread a particular piece of painful territory. Monday, I have the privilege of being a guest at #BeReal with my own moment of truth — and the difference between embracing humor as a part of my identity or slowly being smothered by it.

Here’s a short preview…

As a humor columnist, I get paid to be a truth-stretcher. An embellisher. A chronicler of life blown out of proportion. And I get to do it without living in Washington D.C. It’s a skill my mother will tell you I began honing at a young age — usually as a way of getting out of trouble. Again, it’s a wonder I didn’t go into politics.

However, I decided to use my skills for the greater good by becoming a writer instead.

Early in my career, I was in a very unhappy marriage. It lasted 15 years because I got good at not being real. Often, I wrote about my married life in a humorous way by portraying myself as the bungling husband always falling short of his smarter, more capable wife. It kept the peace and also gave me an escape. But while it generated laughter for readers, it also generated an identity that I grew increasingly uncomfortable with. My ex-wife, who was a successful business woman, would introduce me to clients at parties or dinners as “the silly guy they’ve read in the newspaper.”

They expected me to be the same silly guy. Always.  Continue reading Monday, Hasty Dawn is giving me the chance to #BeReal