A Group For Dads

Remember when I wrote about the weekly newspaper column I didn't get asked to write? You know, they ran an ad for neighborhood reporters and I didn't get chosen, and in typical male fashion I hated on the woman who they did choose after reading her first edition? Yeah, well I hate to admit it, but in her third column she wrote about a group called Charlotte Area Dads, which I joined last night. It pains me to give her credit for it, but I'll be the grown up I'm supposed to be and say that I'm glad she opened my eyes to this forum. The group operates a website, charlotteareadads.com, where dads from the area can have a place to chat, make friends, and plan dads-only events and outings. The few things I've seen so far seem really interesting, like a weekly basketball game in a nearby subdivision and some weekend no-moms-allowed breakfast outings. The website itself will most certainly be the biggest draw for me . . it's set up with bulletin-board type forums and chatrooms where dads from a really diverse set of circumstances and backgrounds can get together and chat and talk about whatever they want. I've long been jealous of the online forums that Mandi's a part of (she calls her friends from her Weightwatchers board "her bitches", and I feel like we'll need to put a spare bedroom in our next house for them). Now I'll have my own online gossip outlet, and everyone on it is local. I feel compelled to come up with a clever nickname for the group of guys I become friends with . . my homies? Nah. My dudes? G-A-Y. The Boys? Too backstreet. Let's hear your ideas in the form of comments to this post . . winner receives a some-expenses-paid trip to somewhere utterly unspectacular, which will be paid in the form of a 20-year worthless annuity held by a company that went bankrupt last week. If you're curious, I've placed a link to the Charlotte Area Dads website on the left of the page among my other links.

"I Want An iPhone For Christmas"

I know that quote might not seem outrageous on its surface, but when you hear the context I'm certain you'll feel my pain. For the most part, Mandi and I are not big spenders, especially when it comes to things we consider to be just toys. We have good phones, but you can be sure we got the good rebates on them and our plan is as cheap as can possibly be. We use our iPods quite a bit, and the iPhone's ability to do email, photos, and so on would not be difficult to sell me on for my hard working wife. So why did that quote deserve a post on my blog today, you ask?

Because Avery said it.

Trust me, I wish I was kidding. Lily, Avery, and I were driving to Lowe's to return some paint I'd picked up to paint our garage with. About halfway out of our neighborhood my phone rang and I immediately recognized the number as Avery's friend Elise, who lives 2 blocks away from us. 15 minutes later when we pulled into our parking spot at Lowe's I had to cut the conversation off. As we got out, Ave immediately started begging me to call Elise back when we got back in the car, to which I responded "We'll see how good you are in the store," knowing in my heart of hearts that that was a slam dunk way to keep the phone in my pocket. Then, as I got Lily out and locked the doors, the bombshell was dropped. "I want an iPhone for Christmas," Avery said. My jaw literally got stuck in some old gum that was on the ground in the parking lot. "Umm, how do you even know what an iPhone is?" And then it hit me . . Elise is from Florida! I immediately flashed back to my 9 months in Miami all those years ago, visions of broke people driving their Escalades to the plastic surgeon's office, but only after a stop at Starbucks (which of course they paid for with their Amex).

No, seriously though, what the hell is going on in this world? I won't pretend to remember second grade, but I can promise you none of us were as interested in "stuff" as kids are today. At 7 years old, I'm pretty sure my biggest concern in life was trying to get through a day without PJ, who my mom babysat, biting me. I'm quite certain I was wearing homemade velour shirts and Spiderman Underoos and loving every minute of it. I remember years later obsessing over things I wanted, but we're talking about Transformers and Matchbox Cars, not a $400 phone. After I summarily told Avery "No" to her request, she retorted "I'll just ask Santa Claus for it, and I don't believe Mommy when she says she has his phone number, so don't tell me that." "Well, (I didn't say punk, but I wanted to), maybe not, but I do have his email address, so don't get your hopes up!"

Too Much Of A Good Thing?

Tonight was McDonald's Night for Avery's school . . a bunch of the teachers "work" at the local Mickey D's and in return the restaurant donates 15% of its sales to the school. It's a nice thought, the kind of charitable idea I was presented with over and over again when I ran restaurants. Most of the time we'd put a hundred hours or so into promoting the event, only to be let down heartily by the results. It was nice to help out, good for the restaurant company's image in the community, and a feel-good moment, but that's where the positives ended.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that wasn't the case at our local McDonalds tonight. The promotion was scheduled to last from 5 until 8, and when we got there at 5:45 it was literally standing room only. Seriously, there were kids sitting outside on the sidewalk eating their Happy Meals. My money says tonight was the busiest night in that McD's history. My confidence in that wager is based not only on my vast restaurant experience (can you see my shit-eatin grin?), but also on the fact that at least 3 different parents I talked to tonight didn't even know that McDonald's existed before yesterday, when their kids came home and begged to go there. I was pretty sure I knew where it was . . but I'll be honest, it wasn't until we were about 30 yards from the turn and the Arches popped out from behind a hedge that I was 100% sure. After all, it's one of those stores that's half of a gas station. The other 364 days of the year they stay busy cleaning up their restrooms after the travelers who've stopped to fill up their tanks and dump their previous fast-food trash in their trash cans. Their employees certainly had never experienced anything like this. The look on the 17 year-old cashier's face was priceless, like a cross between a deer in the headlights and Avery when she doesn't get her math homework . . tears, fear, and adrenaline. That girl's gonna be having the "Waiter-in-the-weeds" dream for like a month.

It's interesting to observe how different types of people act in settings like this. Without stereotyping, you can just tell by looking at some people how they'll behave . . there's the dad in the suit with the 4 different communication devices on his belt who's getting to the restaurant about the same time as we did. He tactfully sells his 2 kids on the fact that dinner there is going to take too long, and convinces them that they shouldn't stay. He's too busy to spend time with his kids every other day of the week, too. Then there's the Kindergarten teacher who's standing in the geographic center of about 125 kids, in charge of passing out treats and prizes, who all the while can make small talk with all the parents and just smile the whole time. Consider what she does every day and this isn't a stretch at all . ."just a walk in the park Kozanski".

Then my favorite is the mom at the cash register as I'm coming back to retrieve our food. I took the girls to our table to get them settled (tables were not easy to come by, we would have been out on the sidewalk were it not for a friend's generosity) and when I returned to the counter the manager was auctioning off our food. I reached across to grab our tray from the counter, and as I did so I was chided with an "Excuse Me!" that sounded like it should have been followed by a "Z Snap". I glanced only briefly enough to cower and apologize, but the picture certainly fit the words. My guess is that she's a DMV employee or something, spending all day getting worked up about who's not standing behind the yellow line. She had the requisite hideous 12-year-old brown pantsuit and Tina Turner hair to match the "Watch Your Manners" attitude. I mean seriously . . there were about 200 people in this restaurant who's capacity was 78 (yes, I checked), there are 8-year-olds running and yelling everywhere and yet she felt it necessary to call me out on a simple lean-and-reach? Maybe she was worried that with my arm in the way the cashier wouldn't hear her ask for extra special sauce on her Big Mac . . heaven forbid. As I walked away, I heard her tell her daughter that this was "just too crowded, and we shoulda just gone somewhere else" at a volume about 60% higher than it needed to be, no doubt so that everyone within earshot could witness her disgust and inconveniencing at the hands of these commoners . . I'm a government employee for goodness sake, I deserve better than this. Bitch.

Anyway, in this case I definitely think the Mickey D's got too much of a good thing. While I'm sure they're grateful for the sales bump, they won't be happy when that cashier quits tonight at the end of her shift. Six twenty-five an hour just ain't enough to put up with that kind of chaos.

"I'm Eating Candy Corn"

This is just a quick, funny Lily story . . I felt I needed to post something just to get back in the flow. It's tough to find the time to blog when Mandi's out of town.

So I'm dumping the litterbox and generally just straightening up the house when Lily comes meandering in to the laundry room and says "I'm eating candy corn Daddy." I paused, thinking I had taken the last few away from her before her nap, and wondered if I could have been dumb enough to leave them somewhere she could reach (which is almost everywhere now). I asked her where she got them, expecting her just to tell me that she found one on the couch or something similarly benign. When she responded "In the trash can Daddy" with the utmost level of nonchalance, I gave one of my defeatist sighs and just shook my head. I guess she wasn't really feeling me when I told her she couldn't have any more snacks before dinner time . .

Trying Out Video

So in an unprecedented act of sibling kindness, Avery gifted an old toy to Lily this morning. It's a purple Care Bear, outfitted with a Britney Spears-esque headset and '80's headband, which when activated encourages the kiddos to start Jazzercising . . it even plays Olivia Newton John's Physical! Lily was excited to play with it, bringing it to me yelling "turn it on Daddy, make it work!" I secretly hoped that years of idle time in Ave's room had killed the batteries, but I switched it on and, sure enough, it fired right up. I can't wait to see the look on the other coaches' faces today at soccer when I'm walking around singing Physical on the sidelines. I am posting my first-ever video on the blog today, a little glimpse of Lily's best dance moves. Enjoy!

10 New Recipes

For those who are interested, there are about 10 new recipes available on the site (since Monday). The Crispy Crusted Red Snapper recipe works well for a variety of similar fish choices (Tilapia or Catfish come to mind) and is really tasty. The Coconut and Beef Curry with Noodles was VERY spicy, but cutting the amount of curry paste back would accommodate your preferences and still yield a very tasty dish. Almond Chive Salmon is quick and easy and can be varied in many ways, such as substituting different herbs or nuts. The Banana Bread recipe came from a friend of ours from our restaurant days, and it's unbelievable. Even Avery eats it!

I added a new poll question today, so take a minute and give me your thoughts on it. Any comments on recipes you've tried are certainly welcome!

A Picture Of Me

Next to the definition of the word 'Insanity' in Wikipedia, the modern day dictionary/encyclopedia, that's exactly what you'll find. Although I haven't seen it, I'm sure it's a picture of me doing something very ordinary. Perhaps I'm vacuuming while the kids are still awake and admiring that "freshly mowed carpet" look that I know will last 42 seconds. Or maybe I'm asking Lily to keep the back door closed while she plays outside and I cook dinner. Whichever shot the webmasters chose, it's certain to fit the definition perfectly: 'Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results'.

While I'm not a big believer in Astrology, I do fit the Stubborn Goat stereotype of my sign pretty well in this respect. No matter how many times I have the Dr. Phil "How's that workin' for ya?" dialog with myself, I continue to attack certain issues the same way, getting more and more of the same unsatisfying results each time. I had this issue working in restaurants . . specifically, I'd try to ask people to change their behaviors in a very non-confrontational, diplomatic way and with the kind of predictability matched only by the sunrise I'd get the same exact results nearly every time . . that is, people went straight back to what they did before. Time and time again, I told myself I was done being nice about it. Demand what you want and impose serious consequences if you don't get it, otherwise nothing will change. People do what's in their best interest, and 'what's easiest' will fit that description every time if there's no real downside to resisting change.

So why is this such a difficult behavior pattern for me to break out of? I know precisely what kind of results I can expect from this textbook form of passive aggression. People will continue to impose their wills on me whenever they choose. My objections will continue to be minimized by those who are reluctant to make difficult choices and respect the ones I've made. They in turn will make immature rationalizations and bury their heads deeper in the sand. No thanks. My approach to saying 'No' when the time is appropriate will change TODAY. Dave Ramsey's catch phrase for how he approaches life seems really poignant in light of this post . . he teaches his listeners to "Live like no one else, so that later you can live like no one else." He always asks people who have reached their goals if their friends made fun of them on their journey to Financial Peace, because he knows that most people will think you're weird if you deprive yourself of stuff. Dave references 'The Ancient Word' a lot, the one he feels America needs to rediscover if it wants to win with money. Today I will begin to take command of the Ancient Word in a whole new way. The Ancient Word is "No". When I master it, I'll call Wikipedia and have them remove my picture.