Author: Family Friendly Daddy Blog

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Pizza is Awkward When It’s a Public Affair

Jay Leno, the great comedian, once said, “There is no such thing as bad pizza.” And with the exception of the slaughter-house and lard version made by Cici’s, I agree with Jay. But the bad thing about pizza is the over-bearing awkwardness it provides when involving a community set-up. I am a pizza loner.

At work when some people “all pitch in a few bucks” to order pizza at lunch, I don’t rush to get out my wallet. So much to consider: First of all, how much to I give? Five bucks? If so, how many slices does that grant me? Two? Or Three? I need to know. Can I just pay by the slice?

I am very greedy when it comes to pizza. And I am aware that pizza is very unhealthy. So when I do delve into its goodness, I’m all in. I want to be full so that means I need between 4 and 5 slices. And we will need to order something good.  Something besides pepperoni.  We need supreme pizza. Meat and veggies. That way it’s a full meal.

By nature, pizza is sinful. If I actually get enough to be full, then I’ve had way too much. It’s not like a chicken breast where there’s actual enough protein. Pizza is mainly carbs and fat. Pizza, like sin, is unfulfilling.

I only had one sibling growing up. And I was the first born. I hated group projects in school and college. Pizza brings out the worst in me.

2 Comments Posted on People, Spirituality, Storytelling, Uncategorized

People are the Meaning of Life, Part 2

 

It’s a fact. There has never been another year in history (2009) when this many well-known people have died, namely middle aged celebrities, Michael Jackson being the foremost.  I keep thinking of the lyrics to that Lynyrd Skynyrd song, “oh, oh that smell- the smell of death surrounds you”. For a culture that seems to have some roots still grounded in the mindset of a 19 year-old kid (convinced they’re invincible and not really seeming to grasp that they actually will get old one day if and only if they live that long), we are now being forced to consciously think about it: There is a 100% chance of death for all of us. Life is a trap- no one gets out alive.

Not only does that require us to evaluate our lives, but it forces us to make at least one conscious attempt to nail down our view of the After Life. Because despite what we allow ourselves to safely believe, there can only be one absolute truth about life after death. Not everyone can be right. That’s the security, necessary exclusiveness, and hope that a faith brings.

Just like the way the male baldness gene randomly shows up in some men by age 20, while for others it leaves them alone for quite a while, the same “hot potato” concept goes for death. If everything goes as expected, we will live into our 70’s. But there are many variables that just can’t be controlled. There’s a redneck cup koozie I’ve seen before at gas stations that says in neon rainbow colors on a forest green background: “Eat right, exercise, don’t smoke… Die anyway!”

Being that I work in the transportation industry, someone a few weeks ago was trying to make a point to me about a particular safety issue regarding an 18 wheeler truck and in an effort that I feel crossed the line because it brought my personal life into a work environment, I was asked this question in front of others as a fear tactic: “How would you feel if a big rig ran into you and killed you?”

I pretended to listen and pay attention to what the person continued to say after that, knowing it didn’t matter anyway because I knew I was right and I later proved it through course of action instead of words. But ultimately on the inside I was doing my best to keep from saying out loud, “How would I feel if I died? I probably wouldn’t feel anything. I would be dead, you moron.”

Admittedly, that lame attempt to prove a wrong point to me actually has caused me to truly give thought to “dying before my time”. I am solid in my beliefs about my eternal destination. But the ultimate sadness of death is knowing that the 50 remaining years I have planned out in my head, with my wife and my family and my friends, are at this point just that- plans.

Either I get those years with the people I love or I don’t. And I have no control over that. Therefore, it makes me over-aware that each passing year I live is nothing but God’s grace. He allows me to continue to share life with these people. That is the reason I am still alive.

I used to have this way of thinking that if I didn’t talk out loud about my fears, they wouldn’t come true. But now I’m talking. Knowing that it’s not up to fate or something I can jinx; it’s up to God choosing to keep me around.

The downside of being happy about my life is knowing that it’s not guaranteed another second. Like the previously mentioned “hot potato” concept, in a sense we are forced to play Russian Roulette every day we wake up. So far so good. We’re all still alive. But the thought of missing out on life, which is the people in it, which are the meaning of life- deeply saddens me.

So this helps to explain why I am constantly called “Grandpa” when I drive, often going under the speed limit and never taking my eyes off the road. And it better explains why I am so focused on healthy eating and exercise. It’s why I won’t jump off into water I can’t see the bottom of. It’s why I never say good-bye to my wife without letting her know I love her.

People are the meaning of life. And in a related yet also almost opposite perspective, the real reason death is so scary is the fact is that it removes us from the people we love and the lifetime we’ve shared with them. Death takes us away from the meaning of life. We’re not afraid of dying, we afraid of losing life. That moment when everything we’ve ever known becomes like an old series of blurry dreams, and we wake up to the ultimate First Day in a New Place.

“I am invincible as long as I’m alive.” -John Mayer (“No Such Thing”)

“And if I go before I’m old, oh brother of mine please don’t forget me if I go… When I was young I didn’t think about it, now I just can’t get it off my mind.”
-Dave Matthews Band (“Bartender”)

 

1 Comment Posted on People, Storytelling, Uncategorized

The Opposite of a Beach Bum

Along with “Check, please!”, “I think it’s time for Plan B”, “That’ll leave a mark!” and “Smooth move, Ex-Lax”, one of my favorite overused quotes from ‘80’s sitcoms is the sigh-infused “I need a vacation…” When my wife and I were planning our honeymoon last year, many people assumed we were flying out to somewhere in the Caribbean Islands. Because that’s the normal American thing to do, understandably. Though we have never been to a sunny beach coast together before, we both were aware that sitting on the sandy shores all day doing nothing would drive us both stir crazy.

There are two kinds of people in the world: Vacationers who relax and vacationers who explore.

And while it’s possible to do both, ultimately a person’s instincts causes them to plan their vacation according to one over the other. The observation is this: People who like to sit and relax while on vacation (often known as “beach bums”) generally go to warmer, sunny locations and stay in hotels. People who like to explore go to less sought after places often with colder temperatures and higher elevations and stay in lodges, cabins, and bed-and-breakfast’s.

In the last two years, my wife and I have traveled to the foggy, cold, rocky coasts of New Zealand, Maine, and Northern California. We are drawn instinctively to places where there are not a lot of other people around and where there is exploring to be done. Always in search of the next perfect, quaint local coffee shop. Or that beautiful scenic drive we can only take in a rental car in a city we’ve never been in before.

And when we can’t go on a week long vacation to a place we can really only get to by plane, we enjoy hanging out in The Highlands of Louisville, KY (an artsy hippy neighborhood with lots of cool, weird ethnic restaurants including Moroccan, Turkish, and Argentine, to name a few), Sevierville, TN (equipped with black bears), and Fort Payne, AL (my hometown that somehow became cool again when I wasn’t looking).

Most people take their vacations in the summer, when it’s hot. As I do. And most people travel to places that are even hotter than where they live. As I don’t. I loathe the depressing England-like climate of American winters, except in the summer when I want to escape to it. I escape to a more isolated city with less people around with no need for AC.

If people go on a summer vacation to escape all the chaos around them, why do they go to a really busy beach where it’s honkin’ hot? Shouldn’t they do the opposite? Shouldn’t they cool off in a quiet, peaceful place? I am the self proclaimed opposite of a beach bum.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kHL3tBnzWP8

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Icebreaker for Conversation: Would You Forever Trade All Home Cooked Meals for Infinite Free Meals at Restaurants?

Pickles Make for Good Reading Material- Episode 4

Something strange happens when a guy realizes he has married a wonderful cook: the desire to eat at restaurants starts going away. I began noticing that I was having trouble deciding what to order from the menu when we went out. Not necessarily because the items weren’t presented well or because there were too many things to choose from, but simply because what I would want to order was something my wife made perfectly a few days before, and it just didn’t make sense to overpay for too much of something I can get at home anyway.

In the likeness of Brewster’s Millions and Super Size Me, I had a thought. What would happen if I was made this offer by a magical Eastern European man: For the rest of my life, I would have completely free access to any restaurant in the world, but that was the only way I could get food for the rest of my life.

It would be pretty awesome, no longer having to pay for groceries. No more cooking, no more doing dishes, no more trips to the grocery store. Whatever I was in the mood for, I would simply go to that restaurant and order it. Every meal. Free. At my command. And I wouldn’t have to tip. In fact, the restaurants wouldn’t let me if I tried.

All that money saved on food.

But most restaurants aren’t open 24 hours. So for holidays I would have to order food to-go to plan for future meals. And part of the stipulation is this: If the restaurant doesn’t sell it, I can’t eat it or drink it. No more trail mix. No more Cliff Bars. No more homemade cookies.

If I wanted 4 pickles at once, I would have to go to a place that gave me a pickle spear on the side of the sandwich like McAllister’s Deli does, then specially ask for 3 more. But those pickles are the bland kind.  I like my pickles so spicy that it clears my sinuses.

Or I’d have to order fried pickles from a German restaurant. But I don’t always feel like eating fried pickles. There’s something unmatchable about the sensory involvement of reaching down into the cold yellow vinegar water of a pickle jar.

I would kindly tell the magical Eastern European man “thanks, but no thanks”. Then he would disappear instantly. But I would immediately feel a brief, cold breeze rush past my shoulder. That was the magical Eastern European man, symbolizing both the rejection he felt and the depravity that a “restaurant only” lifestyle would have brought me. No more “covered dish dinners” at family reunions in the basement of my grandmother’s house at Thanksgiving means no more deviled eggs. Bogus.

Missed Episode 3?  It’s right here…

https://nickshell1983.wordpress.com/2009/09/09/pickles-make-for-good-reading-material-episode-3/

Leave a comment Posted on Nostalgia, People, Storytelling, Uncategorized, Writing

Would You Define Your Life as a Comedy or a Tragedy?

The same question goes for the movie Garden State.

I have struggled for a solid ten years trying to figure out what makes things funny. Universally, seeing someone fall down (who doesn’t get hurt) is always funny, but I don’t know why. Defining what humor is, is almost impossible to simply and briefly put into words. What I can do is make a judgment call on whether something as a whole is a comedy or a drama.

One of my college professors taught me there is a clear way to distinguish between the two: Comedy involves a protagonist who in the beginning of the story is standing outside the borders of his society and by the end of the story is accepted into it. Therefore a tragedy is when the protagonist in the beginning is accepted as part of the society but by the end is expelled from it.

To test this theory on comedies, I will take Adam Sandler for example: Billy Madison, Happy Gilmore, The Water Boy, The Wedding Singer, and Big Daddy all involve a character who starts out as one or more of the following: incompetent, poor, lonely, selfish. By the end of the movie, Adam Sandler’s character is accepted into the fold as these previous attributes are resolved. So I can see how the definition of a comedy works here.

For tragedies, I will take some horror movies for example: The Blair Witch Project, Skeleton Key, The Strangers, Quarantine, and Carrie. The protagonists end up either dead or in a really bad situation by the time the credits roll. So I can see how the definition of a tragedy works here, as death or loss of freedom is a way of being ousted from a society that the protagonists were once a part of.

The end of a movie ultimately defines it as a comedy or tragedy. Garden State, which is more a drama than anything, ends with Zach Braff’s character being able to overcome his dependence on his doctor’s/father’s misdiagnosed prescription of anti-depressants and feel alive for the first time as he moves back home to New Jersey, making new friends and finding love: That’s a comedy.

Using this theory, these other genre-vague movies would also be considered comedy: Fight Club, Forrest Gump, and Elizabethtown. And these would be tragedy: Into the Wild, Vanilla Sky, and One Hour Photo.

Life is comprised of rotating moments of comedy and tragedy. Times where I’m on the outside looking in and I get in (comedy) and times where I’m inside but am pushed out (tragedy). In ways big and small. But a person’s general perspective will cause him or her to see it ultimately as one or the other:

 

If life is comedy-in-progress, then life is me trying to figure out how to be normal enough to succeed in being accepted by my immediate society, eventually dying satisfied, knowing I’m surrounded by those who love me.

If life is tragedy-in-progress, then life is me already having everything I need and want in life but having it all taken away from me in the end, eventually dying sad and alone.

Big decisions, big decisions. I’ll go with comedy-in-progress.