An Incredible Day Followed by Some of the Worst of My Life

My baby boy is here! He was born last Wednesday at a whopping 10 pounds and 3 ounces, for my international readers I think that translates to about 4.6 million kilograms.

Thankfully there was no bumping of anybody’s head. Through a strange series of events, my daughter brought home a mean stomach bug virus from preschool, which then passed to my wife and then me. Well, that stomach bug got the party started and induced my wife into labor that morning.
So for those full-term pregnant looking for some advice on how to induce labor, go hang out at a preschool.

I was actually surprised at how much faster the whole second experience took place. Labor was about 7 hours and the real “active” labor was less than two hours.
A woman we ran into today told us “That’s FAST! I was in labor for 7 days and 98 hours.” Somehow I didn’t believe her because she was pushing a dog in a stroller. People that push animal’s in strollers need serious help.

One very important fact I have to mention about the birth center we chose – it’s 1 block away from a KFC. YES! Can you believe it? Talk about convenience.

When my wife was in labor (regular, not “active”) we walked down there to get some popcorn chicken for lunch. I initially ordered one box, but then I told the woman that my wife was in labor right now so we’ll take two boxes. At first she didn’t believe me and then she looked at my wife breathing heavily, holding her back, etc.
While we were waiting I told my wife jokingly “Hey! Wouldn’t it be funny if you had the baby right now… in the KFC!”

She didn’t think that was funny. I think it was because she was in labor.

I won’t go into details about the actual birth except that we had him at a birthing center, not a hospital, with two midwives and a doula. He was initially going to be born in a tub, just like our daughter was, but because of his size he was delivered on some crazy thing called a birthing stool. I’m not even going to describe this thing, just use your imagination about how women gave birth maybe pre-1800’s. I would have much preferred the tub because birth is really messy business.
My bit of advice for those choosing a midwife or home birth – have the baby in the tub or bring some extra clothes.

Something I have to mention before moving on here about the whole events and something only parents that have gone through the experience will fully understand:
There’s nothing in this world that comes even close to meeting your child for the very first time. Feeling the bumps, the kicks, and talking to this mysterious little creature that grows in just 40 short weeks into a full-fledge baby is just something that is truly remarkable. The first time my son, and daughter nearly 5 years ago, looked back at me with their eyes and examined my face are some of moments that I’ll always remember.

So imagine my reaction 4 days later when his pediatrician told us that we needed to immediately rush our newborn son to the pediatric hospital because something call bilirubin had nearly doubled in his body in 12 hours. When we arrived they were waiting for us and put him in one of these hooked up in it for the next 3 days--


What even worse was staring at him in there while the doctor was telling us all kinds of information about it. I zoned out the entire time. The paperwork in our hands said something about a blood transfusion if they couldn’t stop it.

We didn’t tell most about what was going on, only a few close friends and family that had happen to call at the time by coincidence. But those who did helped us considerably during what had to be the worse days of our lives. To them we’ll always be forever grateful.

Thankfully he was finally able to come home this week. His numbers improved considerably and we had a little celebration with our daughter, unfortunately with no KFC present. We go in once again tomorrow for what we’re hoping to be his clean bill of health and then we can go on with our lives watching him grow.

If Age Doesn’t Kill Me, This Will...

There’s just nothing that beats going into work and getting a surprise KFC lunch buffet birthday party by my co-workers.

And knowing the Kentucky Fried traditionalist that I am, none of this “grilled chicken” business was even on the table. Yes, these people know me well. Nothing but the Colonel's own invention's of extra-crispy, original, popcorn chicken (in little theater popcorn buckets), and a birthday candle planted in mash potatoes on top of a bucket of chicken - just the way they still celebrate birthdays in Kentucky and maybe central Ohio.
What more you say can a guy ask for?

How about the best birthday gift ever created:

KFC Double Down

2 original recipe fillets, swiss and pepper jack cheese, Colonel’s sauce , and (mouth-watering about now)…. Bacon!

I wouldn’t wait in line for an iPad, but I’m sure going to be waiting outside KFC Monday for this piece of heaven.
And then the rest of the year I'll be on a diet of just grapefruit, lettuce, and rocks just so I can eat another Double-Down next year.

Back From Paris and Oprah Buys Me KFC

It’s strange how much the world can change in just a few weeks since we’ve been gone. And huge things too like the worldwide swine flu epidemic and Oprah’s KFC scandal.

Our last week in Paris was fantastic. The weather was in the 60’s mostly sunny with no rain, and days were spent walking, visiting parks picnicking while my daughter enjoyed huge playgrounds (most with entrance fee’s - even for the swings!), carousels, sailboats in large fountains, and sometimes uncomfortably violent preschool puppet shows.
The French puppet shows always involved a popular character named Guignol chasing somebody with an axe or beating anybody over the head with a broom. When he starts at it the kids, and a few adults, would all stand up and start yelling (in French) things like, “Go Guignol!”, “Beat him! Beat him!”, “Make him firewood!!”
It totally brought back memories of my birthday party piñata experience (link here.)

The other great part of the trip was my daughter making friends with kids on the playgrounds (both English and non-English speakers) and the wife and I making small chat with the parents. They had some thoughts on the Guignol shows too -- predominantly that the shows have been toned down.

I guess he use to set others on fire...? That would definitely explain the “Make him firewood!” screams.

For those interested I’ll be posting on my review blog “Traveling to Paris with Young Kids” recommendations sometime next week.

Oprah Fried Kentucky

What was KFC thinking?

Of course billions of people are going to run in trying to redeem their free coupon.

I don’t know who came up with that promotion idea, but they should be fired and their portion of Kentucky Grilled Chicken should be sent to me.

What perfect timing for Father's Day ...

I’m Going to Live!

It was pretty surreal when my doctor told me with urgency “go to the nearest ER right away or call an ambulance” when referring to the results of some tests during a checkup.

A checkup that I would have completely avoided if it had not been for my wife pushing me to go because of some odd pains I was having for some time that were getting much to evident to ignore.

Then came the inevitable thought – am I going to die?

My wife, daughter, family, friends; all of the things I’ve wanted to accomplish in life or visit all came into mind. That feeling of total loss knowing that the circumstances were completely out of my control just overwhelmed me.
Later my wife and I had a serious conversation about all the “what if’s.” That by far had to be the most difficult and emotional conversation I’ve (we’ve) ever had.
What surpassed it was seeing my daughter shortly thereafter; all chipper, smiling, without a slightest clue of what in the world was going on. The first thing she said, with enthusiasm, was something like “a squirrel ran into my classroom and the police came… and took him to jail!”


Life is weird.
I never thought that I would be seeing a cardiologist, hooked up to an EKG machine and all sorts of strange equipment, having ultrasounds done of my heart -- all in my 30’s, and just a few weeks before my birthday (the irony!)
But then again, I never thought that I would have such a great wife, an amazing little girl, and a life filled with good friends and family that I can’t really complain about. That’s what made the circumstances even more difficult.
The feeling that all of it may really be gone in a limited amount of time is truly unexplainable.

I really thought stuff like this only happened to people who didn’t do all of the things I did - workout 4 days a week (nearly 8 years now like clockwork), watched their weight, didn’t smoke, drink (well only a few times a month), and ate pretty healthy (OK, except maybe the occasional trip to the Colonel’s house of pure fried chicken delight – my only one true vice!)
But none of that is a guarantee, especially when heart disease runs rampant in all the men on my Dad’s side of the family.

When all was said and done, I emerged. A bit traumatized, a different stance, and a fresh appreciation for the people around me. This time adding some new lifestyle changes that are going to be even more restrictive – the biggest being eating red meat only twice a week and fried food –- you know all the stuff that tastes good like fries, bacon, chicken to once every 6 weeks.

Let me repeat that again: I can only eat KFC “once” every “six” weeks (the irony!!!)

But how?! Just looking at the picture makes me want is even more…
Now my wife’s favorite line - “If you want to live... stay away from the bucket”

Things to Look Forward to in 2009

There are things I’m going to miss about 2008: Joe the Plumber, 6-year old Chinese gymnast, bottled water not being cool anymore, etc.
And things that I won’t: financial crisis, potty training crisis, high gas prices crisis, Chuck E. Cheese’s crisis, Speed Racer movie crisis, Hadron Collider destroying the world - crisis.
I don’t know about you but I was a little nervous about that Collider, created by those mad European scientist sucking things into a black hole. Maybe next time around they could point it at Chuck E. Cheese so I don’t have to go to any more birthday parties there.

Nevertheless, here’s my list of things I’m looking forward to in ’09:

1. The demise of Bratz. After a huge court battle with Mattel Toys, MGA Entertainment (i.e. “The Pimps” of Bratz) is being forced to destroy the entire line, including the sushi strip bar. It still baffles me that some parents actually bought these thong wearing, drug addict looking, hookers for their daughters. And not just a few, but billions of dollars worth the past 8 years.
2. 10-year wedding anniversary. And to celebrate this April we’re going on a 15-day trip to Paris, France – where the wife and I met nearly 12 years ago. But this trip won’t be filled with white-tablecloth dinners, 12-hour visits to museums by day, and clubbing until 6am like the last time we were there because we’re taking our daughter. Paris with a 3-year old is definitely going to be different this time around. But after some research we’re finding out that there are lots of kid/family friendly things to do there. And I’m planning on blogging about the experience, possibly daily.
3. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince Movie. This will probably be the only movie I see in a theater this year. Well maybe, Transformers 2, G.I. Joe: Rise of Cobra, and Up. And I’m sure my daughter will be all over Princess and the Frog, so maybe that one too.
4. My daughter’s 4th birthday. Come to think of it, maybe I’m not really looking forward to that one. She’s already growing up much too fast as it is. Her “Santa Wish List” this past Christmas consisted of make-up, lip-gloss, nail polish, hair/body glitter, a tattoo, a cell phone, and a chocolate bunny. Santa ended up bringing her a chocolate Santa and a Dollhouse.
5. A flying car. We're definitely overdue on this. And not only should it fly, it should be Mr. Fusion powered by banana peels, empty Jamba Juice cups, shredded up Bratz dolls, and leftover Chuck E. Cheese prize tickets.
6. KFC “Spicy” Popcorn Chicken. I’ve been petitioning KFC for years, but this year is going to be different because I’m starting one of those Internet campaigns. Use this letter as a template (modify if needed), mail and join the Revolution!

To: Colonel Sanders
C/o Customer Satisfaction
P.O. Box 725489
Atlanta, GA 31139
(Or online here. But unlike a letter, you can’t draw pictures on it.)


Dear Colonel (or current CEO of delicious chicken),

Everybody knows your greatest creation, Popcorn Chicken that comes in a little movie popcorn bucket, is the greatest invention known to modern man (after drive-thru's and the Internet.) But it can be better; you could offer Spicy Popcorn Chicken.

If you did this, I promise to eat it everyday. Even when the wife says “Hell no! We’re not going to EAT spicy popcorn chicken again for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and at the movie theater!” She’ll learn to love it - even if it takes 10 more years of marriage.

Sincerely,
Tony
“Creative-Type Dad” advocate of Spicy Popcorn Chicken
(Sign your own name here, but leave in “advocate of Spicy Popcorn Chicken” – very important.)

P.S. Please don’t let your employees take baths in the sinks anymore – thanks!



One day…the vision will be reality. I just know it.
What are you looking forward to in ’09?

Preschoolers and Politics on the Playground

Today as I picked up my daughter from preschool, I held the door open for a mom picking up her little girl who happened to be wearing a t-shirt of a presidential candidate.
As her daughter ran up and hugged her she had asked, “Did you tell your friends about who you’re voting for?”

Are you joking?

The girl is 3. If I had to guess, I’d say Cinderella, Spongebob, or maybe DeeDee Doodle

Since I’m relatively new and only 3 years into the parenting world I ask you fellow parents -- do parents normally use their preschoolers to campaign? Or maybe you yourself do it? Or maybe you’re just as bothered by it as me.

And for the record, I don’t care who any of you vote for. I’ll still like you the day after elections, even if it’s not my choice. Everybody has personal opinions; ideals, whatever, and I fully respect that.
But using a preschooler to shamelessly wear something for the parents’ viewpoint and using them as a campaign placard for something they just don’t understand troubles me.

My daughter’s new t-shirt just arrived yesterday...
And yes, she does understand the meaning of 11 herbs and spices.

Old School, Preschool, and Colonel Sanders

My daughter started preschool this morning and it did not go as I had envisioned...

She being nervous while packing lunch, difficulty getting dressed, walking her to the classroom with her hand clenching mine, huge puppy eyes and tears as I’m about to leave, screaming “Daddy! Daddy! Don’t leave me… I love you!!” as I walked away quickly, but maybe stopping a few times waving and whispering “I love you too, now go back to your classroom and learn the proper use of safety scissors...” as I backed into and disappeared in a fog with Obi-Wan Kenobi and Dean Martin patting me on the back assuring me that I am a good dad.

That's what I expected. In reality it went something like this:

Packing lunch – “No…I want to do it all BY MYSELF!”
Dressing - “No…I want to do it all BY MYSELF!”
In the car pulling up to the school “Drop me off…O.K…I see you later O.K!”

Uh no! I’m walking to your classroom and I BETTER SEE TEARS WHEN I LEAVE!!!!

I can just imagine what kindergarten is going to be like; she’ll probably end up telling me to drop her off down the street.

Happy Birthday To The Man That Invented Chicken in a Bucket!

And to think I almost forgot... thankfully some cool folks reminded me.

It’s hard to imagine, but prior to the birth of Harland David Sanders in 1890 nobody even thought about putting fried chicken in a bucket.

It wasn’t until his 3rd birthday on a farm in Henryville, Indiana while packing lunch for his first day preschool that he told his father, General Sanders, “Father General, I would like the pleasure of preparing my own meal for today’s schooling. Sir.”
When his father of little words nodded in agreement, young Harland instantly put 14 pieces of fried chicken with 11 herbs and spices in a red, white, and black cardboard bucket.

And then with his chicken bucket and Princess backpack in hand, his dad took young Sanders to school.

And he didn't even acknowledge his father as he walked away from his classroom - not even a wave.

And his father was so upset that he didn't want to eat fried chicken anymore. But then he got over it and went through the drive-thru anyways.

A Colonel of Your Very Own

When I was a kid, maybe around my daughter’s age or perhaps older, Kentucky Fried Chicken use to give away some pretty cool plastic hand puppets of Colonel Sanders.
McDonald's later caught on to the puppet fever and released their own plastic hand puppets of Grimace, Ronald, and I think that weird bird that couldn’t fly because she ate too many Fry Guys... I don't remember her name.
No matter, everybody knew those hand puppets weren’t nearly as cool as “The Colonel” - at least in my area of the world.

I use to play with my Colonel Sanders plastic hand puppet all the time. It use to battle with my Gobots (‘The Colonel’ would always win fights with his signature drumstick chop torpedo of doom), I would draw with it (I swear I could draw better with it on, maybe it was the magic of 11 herbs and spices), and sometimes it would be my only friend at 1am when my mom finally came home from work smelling like alcohol and cigarettes (“Colonel, why do mother and father fight so much…?”)

I miss that hand puppet(s)

I don't want to recreate the past, but I can recreate the Colonel. So I’ve created a "Colonel" Paper Craft updated for a new generation complete with his cane, signature white suit, and of course bucket of that finger lickin' good chicken (with 11 unknown magical herbs and spices from the planet Kentucky.)

This is what he looks like built...

...and here’s the Printable to make your very own:

(Click to download)

My daughter thinks he needs a friend so maybe I'll make a Lionel Richie one next...

Happy Birthday to… Me! When Did I Get So Old?

I’m another year older, and the sad part is that my wife had to remind me of my exact age because whenever someone asks I always say 21.
Actually I think I’ve been saying that line since I was 17.

Anyhow, Birthdays around my house don’t last for just one day, they last the entire weekend.
This year, without a doubt, had to be one of the best I’ve had in a really long time thanks to my wife, friends, and family. It all started on Friday with co-workers bringing in fancy cupcakes, balloons, and some completely unexpected gifts including some custom printed Lionel Richie cocktail napkins from a design that I had fashioned as a joke awhile back and hung on my office wall:

“tonight, we gonna’ have a party”

These are definitely going to be a staple at every party I have from now on, along with of course, a bucket of KFC.

Then Saturday a few close friends made an amazing Greek dinner spread complete with a homemade Reese’s peanut butter cup ice cream cake. And if that wasn’t enough check out a small sampling of the gifts:

Gary Coleman (Arnold) Toddler Shirt

For my daughter to wear. I swear she does this “whatchoutalkin’bout willis” stance nearly every time she gets in trouble.

Colonel Sanders’ Tijuana Picnic - LP

((speechless))
Can I just say how awesome my friends are? I’ll be sharing more of this swingin’ album soon.

Sunday (actual birthday) we made a trip to Disneyland with some family including my brother and his kids, all of whom I haven’t seen in well over a year. That place wore me out; I swear they need to open a ‘sleep ride’ somewhere in there for parents (and old people) like me can just take a snooze.
And it didn’t end there; today I took the day off of work to spend with my daughter - a tradition I’ve started ever since she’s been around. And the best part, I got to take a 2-hour nap while she was taking hers… pure heaven.

Seriously, I wish I could nap everyday. Then I could be dreaming of those swingin' KFC picnics in Tijuana, with the Colonel lounging by a nearby tree. And then when I wipe my mouth with Lionel Richie napkins I could tell him "Look Colonel, Lionel's got some chicken crumbs stuck in his mustache!"
Then we'd laugh and eat some more popcorn chicken.

Crazy People Searches And "I Pity Da' Fool Who Don't Eat Ma Fried Chicken!"

A big congratulations to the Kentucky Fried Chicken Contest winners!
It was a tough call, but just like the Highlander "in the end. there can only be one." Or in this case two.

Winner #1 was Beta Mom for her fancy writin' poem:

There once was a man from Kentucky Whose chickens were very un-lucky He made them all fatter Then fried them in batter Yessiree’ that Colonel was plucky.

And wiener #2 was Bennie from Ben & Bennie because his grandfather shot a hippie, in Kentucky, for taking his chicken wing while singing Kentucky's national anthem at The Colonel's original restaurant... in 1830 (or something like that...)

Thanks to those that particiapated and a big thanks to KFC for sending me the gift checks. As soon as I got them I ran over and tried the Popcorn chicken again (I actually have a new product suggestion/idea: Spicy Popcorn Chicken!...my mouth waters just thinking about that one. KFC could get the Spice Girl's to sing in the commercials "People of the world --Spice up your life.." all while dancing with a sunglass sportin' Colonel Sanders!)

Random And Bizarre Searches
That mighty powerful (and rich) Google sends some weird people my way. I occasionally like to share these searches with the public.

I crapped a pineapple - ouch!
see womans boobs at a football game - they're called "Cheerleaders"
ways to get daddy from stealing my candy - sorry kid, you'll get no sympathy from me
daddy eat as much candy as he wants - so what's the problem?
jo and blair were in love - I think Jo was in love with Blair. And Blair was in love with Mrs. Garrett
picture of gummy bear in a peaceful area - gummy bear heaven?
when did dad's start cutting the cord - when doctor's felt a need to be entertained
why do we have butt cracks - apparently to crap pineapples
how to acquire all magical powers and superhuman strength - get bitten by a spider or alien that has somehow escaped a government research laboratory. Or be a rich orphan with nothing else to do.

Colonel Sanders and Santa Claus Must Be Brothers. Or Just Angels Sent From Heaven

Today began like any other: woke up, showered, ate cold chicken out of a bucket for breakfast, got my daughter ready, sang ELO’s “Evil Woman” on the way to work -- pretty much how billions of other people’s day begins.
Except today day was different. Today I got a note from KFC (yes, “them”) complimenting me about my Colonel Sanders pumpkin and THEN sending “ME” KFC gift checks.

It may be November, but it sure feels a lot like Christmas morning.

(The remainder of this post will be in a southern accent to pay homage to Colonel Sanders, aka: the great originator of fried chicken in a bucket.)

Those who’ve been readin’ this here blog for a while know I’ve been the biggest fan of this here “Kentucky Fried Chicken” (later renamed “KFC” for the hearin’, and maybe readin’, impaired…) ever since I was a wee youngin’.
Maybe it’s because there’s somethin’ comfortin’ about fried chickin’, mashed potatoes, slaw, bisk-ets, after coming home from school, work, prison (ha, just pulling ya’ britches!)
Or maybe because I find it funny that a southern gent in a white suit, calls himself “the Colonel” and then sells fried chickin’ in a bucket. Hoot and hollerin’, side-splittin’ funny!
And the chicken ain’t bad either. Seriously, who doesn’t like deep-fried chicken? Only Satan himself. And maybe hippies. I just love the spicy kind they make -- which ironically isn’t available at all locations...(the Colonel makes me drive to Pasadena to get that special stuff. Making me risk ma’ life dodging ol’ people in their Lincoln intercontinental's and such…)

Around six moonshines ago, I wrote an open letter to the colonel (when they changed their chicken oil to non-trans fat) vowin’ I would never eat that there chickin’ again. That following week I was back again like a whiny drug-addict (sorry Waya and MetroDad…I just couldn’t get on that Popeye’s bandwagon… maybe if it came in a bucket and Mr. Popeye wore a white suit things would be different…)

CONTEST! WIN CHICKEN! (Come on, who doesn't like FREE chicken?)
And guess what the prize is? KFC chicken checks! (thanks to them colonels’ folks.) All you have to do is leave a comment with your email (so I know how to contact you if you win) and tell me a fact about Kentucky (or hippies!)

The fine print: Winners based on originality. Contest only open to US residents and maybe Canadians.
O.k., Canadians can play too (this time!!!) Sorry to my peeps in NZ, Australia, UK, and Ohio. Oh, and some weird people in Malaysia who are always searching my blog for “husbands drinking wife’s breastmilk” – those people aren't eligible for any contest (ever!)

An Open Letter To The Great Creator Of Chicken In A Bucket - Colonel Sanders

Dear Colonel,

We both may have lived in entirely different generations, but we both share great love of a time among southern accents, white suits, an original recipe of 11 unknown herbs and spices, and above all - the perfection of deep frying in a sweet treat of pure American fat.

Today, for the first time ever, I tried your organizations “new” non-trans fat chicken. To be more specific --Popcorn Chicken (by the way, I love the mini popcorn bucket concept you came up with) and let me just say it doesn't still have that great taste I've grown to love. Actually it taste like nothing. Yes sir, like nothing. In fact, Tofurky carries more flavoring (although I've never actually tried that horrid stuff.)
It may look like chicken and come in a package with your image on it - but it sure doesn’t taste like anything you would have ever approved of.

While eating this blasphemy, I reflected on so many happy moments with your chicken throughout my life. As a small child, my mother coming home late from work smelling like alcohol -- but stopping for a bucket along the way would make things feel better (“Sorry kids, I got another flat tire again…”). Grandma telling me my father was in a car accident – but a stop to the local KFC on the way to the hospital to sneak dad a chicken wing would cheer us all up (“feed it to me son....I can’t move my hands right now...”) In my school-age years, being the new kid on campus (again) bringing a bucket to the 'cool kids’ house for a pool party would instantly produce new friends (“hey chicken guy! Yeah you- you’re totally awesome!”) As a teenager, getting my acceptance letter into art school and celebrating down at the local KFC with the neighborhood goth kids, yelling and jumping on the chairs (“DM 101 Rocks! And so does this chicken!”)
So many memories and now it comes to an end.

When I was done (no finger-lickin' this time) for a moment I saw your image on the box cry. Yes, cry - with tears of blood (or spilled BBQ sauce.)

Just like that “new” Coke experiment, I hope your corporate management sees the error of their ways and brings back the original (maybe you need to haunt the headquarters to shake things up a bit – be sure to use a deep moaning voice and fireworks.)

But until that day comes, I’m going to Popeyes and making new memories.

Your biggest fan,
-Tony

A Bunch Of Randomness: KFC, Celebrities, Loans, And Birthday’s For Plush

Who Switched My KFC With Folger’s Crystals?
These people did - that's who! I read today that the colonel has jumped on the health kick bandwagon replacing trans-fat in it's chicken. What am I going to do now when I need a fix of something really bad? (but taste sooo good…!)
For crying out loud- it's fried chicken in a bucket! I'm not expecting Flax seed and dietary Fiber.
I just hope it still taste the same or I’m switching to Popeye’s for my fix. Because as of now, Popeye's doesn't care about my DHD, BVD's, LCD's or whatever it's called.

Cajun Man Wants My Parking Spot
While loading my daughter and her “stuff” in the stroller at the L.A. Times Festival of Books parking lot - a huge Lincoln Town Car stopped right beside us, waited for a bit (breathed heavily), and a Cajun man/Jr. High kid-voice asked if we were leaving.
“Uhhh, no Adam Sandler, can’t you see we just got here?” And not to be a snob, but who still buys/drives Lincoln Town Cars anyway -- isn't there an age limit of 75 to even own one? (Joey Lawrence almost hit a friend at the Beverly Center’s parking garage - he drove a Lexus; Fabio almost hit another friend near Santa Monica and La Brea – he drove a Mercedes. And those guys aren’t working, Adam is…)
Maybe I should be thankful he only wanted my parking spot and didn’t want to run me over.

You Say You've Got Connections? Well, We're On “The Guest List” For Gymbo’s Birthday
Our Gymboree invited us to “Gymbo the clowns’” birthday party over the weekend. We (or “I”) went largely for the fancy pizza provided and Cold Stone ice cream cake that was being served.
My daughter really liked the whole thing, especially the part where we sang Happy Birthday to the Gymbo plush doll (who mysteriously blew out the candle on his own -- who says clowns “aren’t” evil? Not me!)
If anybody is having a birthday party for their stuffed animal, cat, or Pokemon I’m sure my daughter will love it. Just be sure to provide Cold Stone ice cream cake and we’re there.

I Thought I Would Be 90 Years Old When This Happened
I just sent my last check and now my student loans are paid off! After years of crazy budgeting, selling both kidneys and soul, fencing cars, my gansta rap CD going gold, etc. (sigh of relief.)
I would say “I’m going to Disneyland” but that place is crowded this time of year.

Things The Kid Is Doing Now
When she’s making me bloop (her word for “Soup”) and Edamame’ (she correctly calls it Edamame’) in her toy kitchen and I start eating without her permission, she’ll yell, “Daddy, don’t touch it!!!” – very clearly (she's the Bloop Nazi.)
The other day she ran up to me, really excited, shouting “Daddy! Daddy!” and then when I asked what was up, she burped so loud that the dog barked. She then chuckled and ran away yelling “Mommy! Mommy!”

I wiped a small tear off my cheek and said in my low, impersonated Barry White deep voice, "that's ma' girl" (but low enough so that the wife couldn't hear me...)

Easter 2007: Party Like It’s 1999

Easter weekend was fun – on Saturday the wife organized a small get-together for my birthday with some close friends. Eating delicious fancy Thai food (thanks Michele!) among a bucket of KFC AND “party-sized” Popcorn Chicken (that’s right - “party-sized”), drinking fancy wine, making Martini’s (fruity ones like pomegranate – a “real” mans man’s drink…) and mixing just about anything that was liquid with Vodka (thanks Rick!) that makes an old guy like me want to fall asleep by 8:30 (and then sleep-in until 12 the next day – sorry Jesus.) Oh and did I mention a small crowd of kids, including my own, running around nearly eating stuff off the floor (it was clean- so it’s all good, right?)
I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday (Note to Colonel Sanders: Make the party size popcorn chicken MUCH bigger.)

Easter was another experience. I went solo, with the daughter, to my family’s annual Easter Egg Hunt and Steak BBQ Extravaganza (yeah, that’s what it's really called) while the wife was at home doing homework for her GMAT prep class.
Last year my daughter had no idea what was going on, so the only festive ‘kid-thing’ she did was take a picture with the Easter Bunny (who she just looked at with no reaction.) This year -- well, let me just say, she has discovered those plastic Eggs have candy in it. She was practically smashing the things on her forehead trying to get the M&M’s or Jelly Beans out. There’s nothing like a shivering kid with a messy face repeating “Yummmmmmy…(heh, heh, heh….)” like a mad scientist while occasionally shaking her butt (the wife must have taught her that.) When we got home, I had to remove the contraband (while her back was turned playing with the Easter Basket) and eat it all just to make sure it was permanently removed from the premises (while shaking my butt.)

Because I know I won’t be able to get away with that move next year without a fight.

What Guys Want On Valentines Day And Parental Valentine Preschool Pressure

What do the women want today? $80 Flowers (that normally go for $12 any other day, like tomorrow, but we buy anyway), romantic poems (thank God for the internet), expensive jewelry (that doesn't have ‘cubic’ in the name), flat-screen plasma TV in the bathroom (well, not really, that’s just a really cool idea...)
Men are easy. We just want the women to show up naked with food – preferably a bucket of KFC (the 'spicy' kind.)
I actually created something sentimental for my wife today, which took some time to make and I can't reveal just in case she reads this.


Today a co-worker came into work a few hours late looking like her car exploded with her in it. She’s a fellow parent with 2 kids, one about the same age as my daughter and a son who is 3 or 4.
When she took her son to preschool this morning one of the teachers had asked, “Where are his Valentines? All of the kids NEED to bring Valentines for everybody…”
Nobody said anything, no warning note, nothing (she skipped that chapter in the handbook, the one on "Valentines for preschoolers".) She then grabbed her son, got into the car and headed to the local Walgreens where the only Valentines left were Care-Bears and Dora (her son wanted Spider-Man and cried because they were out or they don't exist.) She then spent some time writing all the kids names on the cards (all 40-something) in the parking lot of the preschool. When she showed up with her crying son there were other parents walking in with fancy little hand-tied bags of candies and cookies with little homemade cards, along with fancy gifts (flowers, baskets, Versace bags, etc.) for the teachers and assistants.

When she was finished I said:
“When your kid is in prison at 17, it’s because of this.”
And then handed her a handmade goodie bag of truffles and filet mignon (...I wish.) I am not looking forward to 'the school' years.

Random Thoughts For Friday: Because Some Days, I Just Wanna Dance

My Dentist IS The Muppets Swedish Chef In Drag
At least that’s my belief at the moment. I was there over 2 hours getting ‘teeth impressions’ for those Invisalign braces that I’ll soon be sporting (minus the gold, diamonds, fiber-optic lighting effects, etc.) She had to redo it 11 times (yes, 11) because (1) her hands kept pushing too hard when she was saying something about the IRS. (2) She was too busy noticing the new tattoo (in addition to the 50) on her pregnant assistants arm. (3) She was possibly a little sauced at 8:30 A.M. If you remember, I have a very odd suspicion that she may be a heavy drinker since she slurs like the late great James Brown, smells like Hennessy, and I can’t understand what she’s saying half the time.

I Really Want That Apple iPhone
I like toy gadgets. Really “shiny” ones that can do everything (even change the car oil and cure the sick) - a lot. And I like to be the first to get them. I guess this behavior stems from my childhood. Growing up, I hardly ever got what I wanted for Christmas or my birthday. When all the other kids were getting Colecovisions or the original Nintendo, I got stuff like board games (or what I referred to at the time as “bored” games) and underwear with monkeys on them (at 14.)

Like the late-great Colonel Sanders once said, “I’m too drunk to finish this chicken”
I've been working late nights at the J.O.B. since returning from Florida. Now, I’m pretty much working 7 days a week for the next 3 weeks. The negative side is coming home late - which pretty much sucks for me, my wife, and daughter. The only plus side is the fine food from local fancy restaurants they’ve been feeding us (I had sushi and oysters on the half-shell tonight...!) But in reality, nothing beats sharing KFC with my daughter who loves the novelty of chicken in a bucket... just like me.

It’s "De-Lurking Week" and nobody sent me chocolate
If you lurk around these parts, come into the light and say something in the comments. If you don’t know what to say, tell me who's your favorite Spice Girl (real or imaginary...)

New tricks the daughter is doing these days
Instead of saying, “move” or “excuse me” if you’re in her way, she squeaks “BEEP-BEEP” (like a car horn) - she got that habit from her mom. She carries around a miniature KFC bucket of chicken and says “Chick-EN!” real loud – she got that habit from her mom. She talks a million miles-a-minute, most of it is unintelligible, but you can pick out some words – she got that from our Dentist.