Nostalgia

Leave a comment Posted on funny, Nostalgia, parenting

Daddy, Do They Still Make Old Mans?

May 19, 2014 at 8:51 pm , by

3 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

Saturday morning, I introduced you to The New Woody Woodpecker Show on Netflix.

As soon as you saw Dr. Von Kook, you proclaimed, “Hey Daddy, that’s an old man!” It was if he was a purple magical unicorn or something.

Then there was that perfect 5 second delay before you gave me a classic follow-up comment:

“Daddy, do they still make old mans?”

You were completely sincere in your curiosity.

I suppose I said yes somewhere in the midst of my immediate uproar of laughter, but I don’t necessarily remember it.

It’s hilarious to imagine human factories that manufacture people; that they purposely make “old mans.”

Which is the other thing I love about your question: the alternative way to make “man” plural… just add an “s”.

Yes, Son, they still make old mans.

Nick Shell shared The Dadabase‘s status.
May 17

“Daddy, do they still make old mans?” -Jack #thisjusthappened
In fact, I’m simply 29 and a half years ahead of you on the journey to becoming an old man myself.

I am especially reminded of that since my past couple of haircuts; noticing that my hair is now a tad thinner than it was just a few years ago.

Like most men, I will gradually go the way of the ever manly Bruce Willis. With each Die Hard sequel, he appeared wiser, tougher, more experienced, and even cooler.

And I’m totally fine with my follicle fate.

Back in 1991, I remember standing at the bathroom counter in the house I grew up in, which was furnished with the finest dark brown wall paneling and dark brown shag carpet.

As I brushed my teeth one night, I remember looking at both of my parents, who were the age I am now, around 33.

I thought, “One day I will be 33 like them. I’ve got so many years until I get there. But one day, that’ll be me.”

I was 10 at the time. I decided in that moment, to consciously remember that forever, like a permanent bookmark.

But now, that “one day” has come. I am now that age.

Granted, 33 is not old or even close to it.

They still make old mans, but I’m definitely not one of them yet.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Top photo: courtesy of The New Woody Woodpecker Show.

Leave a comment Posted on Nostalgia, parenting

If We Couldn’t Laugh We Would All Go Insane

May 16, 2014 at 10:36 pm , by

3 and a half years!

Dear Jack,

Have you noticed how many of our stories that I write to you about take place in the car? It’s because the car is our exclusive “meeting place.”

It’s our… mobile tree house.

It’s our place to be quiet together, as well as our place to laugh together about silly stuff we make up on the spot.

Finding ways to make life fun is important. After all, a wise man from Alabama once said, “If we couldn’t laugh we would all go insane.”

More on that in just a second…

By me driving you to and from school each day, I get to know a version of you that perhaps Mommy doesn’t- all because I’m the one driving you.

In an attempt to make it quality time for us, I wanted to find a style of music on SiriusXM that we both could appreciate and that would make the drive fun and relaxing.

I assumed our favorite station would be jazz… but it wasn’t.

Instead, it’s channel 24: Radio Margaritaville.

Basically, every third song is Jimmy Buffett. The rest fall into the categories of mellow rock and/or reggae; including Jack Jackson, Dave Matthews Band, and Bob Marley.

Before discovering Radio Margaritaville, you didn’t like me having the radio on for more than a few minutes.

Now, with Jimmy Buffett and friends, you never ask me to turn the radio off. You make it a game to try to figure out when it’s Jimmy Buffet singing the song:

“Who’s singing this song, Daddy? Jimmy Buffett?”

Son, I think you and I are becoming Parrotheads.

Fate would have it that back in December 2011, we did a road trip from Naples to Key West in a Chevy Volt; which now that think about it, was my very first car review.

It was such an awesome trip. We got to experience driving across the Florida Keys and got to stay in cool, old house from the 1930s with a spiral staircase. Jimmy Buffet kind of stuff.

Back then, in December 2011, you had just turned 1. So you don’t remember any of that. It was also your first trip to the beach.

As of today, you are officially 3 and a half. By this point, you are actually going to be remembering our family road trips; like the one we have coming up next month, from Sacramento to Lake Tahoe.

We can be father and son Parrotheads there. But I better grow a pencil thin mustache first…

 

Love,

Daddy

 

P.S. Happy 3rd (and a half) Birthday!

Leave a comment Posted on food reviews, funny, Nostalgia, parenting

Strawberry Banana Quesadillas On The Dark Side Of The Moon

May 11, 2014 at 4:35 pm , by

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

Last Saturday morning after you and Mommy made Strawberry Banana Quesadillas for breakfast, which we all loved, we decided to use the creative parts of our brains by doing some artwork together.

In our closet, you discovered some colorful foam sheets to draw on with markers. Mommy and I drew some animals per your request, while you worked on abstract pictures.

After each time you finished a new work of art, you held out the newly colored foam sheet in air and announced your next creation:

“Hey Daddy, look… this is a Skittle Fan. I think it’s an animal.”

You then explained to me your intentions. You planned to make enough works of art so that you can give one to each of your friends at school. Awesome idea!

My favorite was the last one you did. You announced to me:

“Daddy, this one is a dark, sedway moon. I think I dream about these things at night.”

Dark, sedway moon… So mysterious, so profound.

What if you really do dream about dark, “sedway” moons and your artwork is actually a window to what you dream about at night?

What if your abstract dreams will predict the future of what will happen in real life? Like a prophetic dream?

What if this is the premise of a PG-13 rated psychological thriller movie starring Robert De Niro or Greg Kinnear?

I think it could be. Hollywood will be calling me soon for the movie rights… I’m sure of it.

Or maybe I’m thinking too much into it. Actually, I think I just figured it out right now as I’m typing this: Maybe “sedway” is just your way of trying to say “side of,” as in, “dark side of the moon.”

Maybe you and I should play Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of The Moon while watching The Wizard of Oz. Or at least watch the 3rd Transformers movie.

I wasn’t even for sure that you dreamt at all yet. Now I know.

You are a fascinating kid, you know that?

Just another typical Saturday morning: Strawberry banana quesadillas and dark side of the moon.

 

Love,

Daddy

Leave a comment Posted on funny, Nostalgia

Has Facebook Turned Me Into A Narcissist And/Or A Snoop?

May 7, 2014 at 9:10 pm , by

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

If Facebook itself were a game to be won, it would be very difficult to determine the winner. It would be even harder tobecome the winner.

Here’s what I mean.

I would think that the true “winner of the game of Facebook” would be the person least perceived by their friends as a narcissist, yet somehow isn’t secretly a snoop.

Maybe I should create a Venn diagram? (See below.)

Let me just say, I definitely am no Facebook winner.

However, I don’t want to be identified as either a narcissist or a snoop… but if I outright deny that I’m neither, doesn’t that just prove I’m a narcissist?

Since last June, I have made a point to spend less than 5 minutes a day on Facebook- and my life has become better for it. (Narcissist comment?)

Basically, I’m usually on there just long enough each day to post pictures of our family, see if I received any new notifications, and take a look at a friend or family member’s profile if I’m wondering what they’re up to. (Narcissist comment?)

Then I get the heck out of there, before I’m tempted to make a divisive comment about politics, religion, or food.

But even then, I could easily see how I could be perceived as a narcissist. I mean, seriously- everyday I post a new picture of you, or a selfie of our family, or a story about you.

To some, I very well could be that annoying guy who is perceived as trying to make it look like he has the perfect family and the perfect life, thanks to the stage of the everlasting talent show/high school reunion of Facebook.

While I’m grateful for what I’ve been blessed with, I quickly and openly recognize that my life isfar from perfect. (Narcissist comment?)

However, I do believe in the importance in being a positive influence in society; which to some, can come across as being a show-off or self-obsessed.

And then on the other side of the spectrum, if I’m not a narcissist, am I a snoop?

If I’m not a person who is perceived as tooting my own horn all day with happy pictures and stories, am I instead the opposite- a person who is quietly snooping on everyone else, without giving out too much information about my own life? (Because that’s not fair, right?)

I wonder if I can get away with admitting that it can be very challenging to scroll down my Facebook feed without having some kind of judgmental thought about someone who is clearly crying out for attention; whether it’s a negative rant, a duckface selfie, or a “look at my awesome life!” update.

Full circle. Am I that happy narcissistic person? Or the snooping friend? Or am I simply both, by default?

I’m not good at playing the game of Facebook. I’m better off just sitting on the bench- throwing in enough sporadic comments and pictures that are positive and that don’t mention questions or comments regarding politics, religion, or food; that way I’m still contributing without oversharing and inviting people to unfriend me.

All I know is to keep doing what I do: Open the window to friends and family to let them see what is going on in my life, which is you and Mommy.

But (fellow) snoops are welcome too.

 

Love,

Daddy

Leave a comment Posted on Nostalgia, parenting

Boys Grow Up To Become Men Who Move Away

May 1, 2014 at 6:14 am , by

3 years, 5 months.

Dear Jack,

When I was growing up, I never minded the small town I grew up in. It was all I knew.

Life was good, easy, and comfortable. My parents did everything right.

But around the time I starting driving, I became more curious about life outside of the shared corner of Alabama, Tennessee, and Georgia.

The summer before my senior year, I travelled to Ecuador. Then after I graduated high school, I went to college in Florida and Virginia; both of which took way more than 8 hours to travel to and from the house I grew up in.

I spent two of the summers in college overseas in Bangkok, Thailand; teaching English. I briefly did the same in South Korea, as well.

For a guy who sure was comfortable being raised in a small town, it was my instinct to want to go explore the world outside of safety and comfort.

I think you will be the same way. I think you will end up being an explorer of the world; at least the world outside the town you are growing up in.

Aside from that, though- after Mommy and I have “raised you,” you will leave us and start your own life. You will have the desire to become who you were to intended to be, apart from us.

I am preparing myself now for the day you will move away and figure things out on your own, like I had to do.

The way I see it, when a father does a good job of raising his son, he is rewarded by seeing his son move on to start his own life, and eventually start his own family. It seems that’s one of the ultimate rewards of being a father… as much of a paradox as that may sound.

Mommy is the nurturer, I am the mentor, and you’re the kid. Together, I know that the three of us will always have a close love for each other; but I get it that you will, in essence, need to “start over” and do this thing yourself.

Right now, these are the years when the rewards of fatherhood include cuddling with you, wrestling you, having you ask me to sing you bedtime songs, taking you to the zoo and the monster truck show… so many things each day that mean the world to me.

The undeniable irony here is that for the next 15 years or so, I will ultimately be revolving my life around you so that you can become independent enough to live your life without me being right there. I guess that’s sort of an obvious element of being a dad, but I’m thinking about it more here lately.

I don’t take for granted you are growing up so fast. After all, one day, that might actually be a real mustache on your face!

 

Love,

Daddy

 

P.S. The top picture is an entry we submitted for a “selfie photo contest” for Joe Hendricks Photography!