Storytelling

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No, I am Not Tai Lopez

No, I am Not Tai Lopez

Sunday after church, my family was out running some errands in Spring Hill, Tennessee. A guy I had never seen in my life approached me and asked me, very excitedly:

“Hey, are you Tai Lopez?”

Having never heard of Tai Lopez, I somewhat strangely replied, “No, but I am part Mexican, so maybe I look like him?”

The stranger then explained to me that Tai Lopez has a blog and YouTube channel and talks about money management.

I explained that I do as well, but I am indeed not Tai Lopez.

After a quick Google search after I got home, I learned that Tai Lopez was a self-made millionaire by the time he was 30 years-old and a member of MENSA, the high IQ society.

I suppose it’s flattering to be mistaken for a more intelligent, famous, and multi-millionaire version of myself.

This may sound a bit weird but I’m not that aware of what my distinguishing features are other than dark hair and sort of yellow-tinted olive-colored skin. I mean, I know what I look like, but as far as I’m concerned, I’m just a normal looking guy.

Other than maybe Fred Savage, I hadn’t give much thought to anyone else who else in the world I might look like.

I do become aware of my inability to understand the outside world’s perception of what I look like when I look at my kids. I feel that neither my 5 and a half year-old son nor my month-old daughter specifically look a whole lot like either my wife nor me.

While I do see more of my wife in our kids, I get confused when I try to see myself in them; ultimately, because I’m not exactly sure what my distinguishing features are… other than being similar to those of Tai Lopez.

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Dear Holly: Your Pennsylvania Cousins “Adopted” You and Your Brother for the Weekend

3 weeks.

Dear Holly: Your Pennsylvania Cousins “Adopted” You and Your Brother for the Weekend

Dear Holly,

Mommy’s older sister Jenny, along with your Uncle Tom and your cousins Taylore and Rachel, visited us all the way from Pennsylvania; near the New Jersey state line. They were here for about 4 days.

Immediately upon arrival, Taylore “adopted” you for the weekend, as she is planning on going to school to become a labor and delivery nurse after she graduates high school next year. She visited Vanderbilt University (where Mommy works) as a potential college.

Dear Holly: Your Pennsylvania Cousins “Adopted” You and Your Brother for the Weekend

Taylore immediately (and literally) jumped up at every opportunity to hold you, feed you, burp you, change you, and play with you. She loved taking care of you.

Similarly, your cousin Rachel naturally “adopted” your brother Jack for the weekend. Though he is 5 and a half and she is 13, they were perfectly suited as buddies. The way they played together was effortless.

Dear Holly: Your Pennsylvania Cousins “Adopted” You and Your Brother for the Weekend

This sort of double cousin adoption was evident the whole weekend. While we were all at Starbucks enjoying the parade right outside, Rachel and Jack followed each other around. Meanwhile, Taylore studied the way Mommy fed you your bottle.

Dear Holly: Your Pennsylvania Cousins “Adopted” You and Your Brother for the Weekend

Later on at Mellow Mushroom, Jack wanted to try his hand at the crane machine, in which all the prizes are rubber duckies. In addition to the black with rainbow polka dots one that I won for Jack, Rachel also won one for Jack.

Conveniently, Taylor won a very appropriately themed princess rubber ducky for you!

Dear Holly: Your Pennsylvania Cousins “Adopted” You and Your Brother for the Weekend

We had a wonderful time having them in town. Not to mention, Aunt Jenny’s family gave us a break by staying with us. I say this not only because your cousins took care of you and Jack the whole time:

Your Aunt Jenny helped with cooking, washing and drying the dishes, as well as waking up at 6:00 AM to take care of you each morning; allowing Mommy (and me) to sleep in.

As for now, it’s back to the real world.

Love,

Daddy

Dear Holly: Your Pennsylvania Cousins “Adopted” You and Your Brother for the Weekend

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Dear Jack: You Saw Your 1st Parade… By Accident

5 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack: You Saw Your 1st Parade... By Accident

Dear Jack,

On Saturday morning, our family decided to introduce your Aunt Jenny, Uncle Tom, and cousins Taylore and Rachel (visiting from Pennsylvania) to our favorite vegan-friendly pizza place: Mellow Mushroom in downtown Franklin, Tennessee; just 11 miles from our house.

Dear Jack: You Saw Your 1st Parade... By Accident

We were surprised at how difficult it was to find a parking space, though. Ultimately, we took the last remaining spot at the top of the downtown parking garage.

Dear Jack: You Saw Your 1st Parade... By Accident

All the girls wanted to stop by Starbucks first, which is 2 blocks away and across the street. By the time the girls got their coffee, we realized that people were lining up on the sidewalks, facing the street.

We soon learned that the Franklin Rodeo Parade would be beginning in 10 minutes, which explained why it was so difficult to find a place to park. Fortunately, the 8 of us had claimed the giant table next to the giant window, facing the street. In other words, we had front row seats for the parade.

Dear Jack: You Saw Your 1st Parade... By Accident

To my knowledge, you had never seen a parade before. Obviously, you enjoyed it! You loved the school bands- you were amazed by the tubas.

Dear Jack: You Saw Your 1st Parade... By Accident

You got to see horses, clowns, tiny eighteen-wheelers, classic cars, and people dressed up in animal costumes. Once you realized they were throwing candy, you decided to upgrade your seat to the sidewalk outside.

Dear Jack: You Saw Your 1st Parade... By Accident

After the parade ended, we made our way to Mellow Mushroom. Because of all the people who showed up for the parade, it was an hour wait to get a table.

Dear Jack: You Saw Your 1st Parade... By Accident

So we followed the girls around to the shops there on Main Street. Once we got to White’s Mercantile, you found something of interest: a wooden glider plane. Anytime you go to the dentist, you always choose the Styrofoam glider plane from the prize box; but now, you had access to the Lexus version.

While there, we noticed a decorative wooden box up on the shelf with your sister’s name on it: Holly.

Dear Jack: You Saw Your 1st Parade... By Accident

The girl running the cashier explained that Holly is the owner’s name; as in Holly Williams, the granddaughter of country music legend Hank Williams. I thought that was pretty cool.

Dear Jack: You Saw Your 1st Parade... By Accident

During lunch at Mellow Mushroom, you were preoccupied with building your glider plane, so I helped you with that as we waited on the food- though I admit, you knew how to do the rubber band part of the propeller before I could even figure it out.

Dear Jack: You Saw Your 1st Parade... By Accident

Once we got home, you and I tested out your plane in the backyard. The next afternoon, we all headed over the Arrington Vineyards for a picnic. It was a great area to fly your plane.

Dear Jack: You Saw Your 1st Parade... By Accident

Imagine this: Had we simply gone straight to Mellow Mushroom on Saturday, we would have missed the parade, as well as going into White’s Mercantile to buy your plane.

Dear Jack: You Saw Your 1st Parade... By Accident

It was just meant to be.

Love,

Daddy

Dear Jack: You Saw Your 1st Parade... By Accident

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I’m the Most Masculine (and Rarest) Vegan You Know, but Probably By Default

I’m the Most Masculine (and Rarest) Vegan You Know, but Probably By Default

From your hundreds of Facebook friends, plus your dozens of coworkers and your handful of close friends and your immediate family, chances are… I’m the only vegan you know.

I’m the Most Masculine (and Rarest) Vegan You Know, but Probably By Default

More specifically, even if you do actually happen to know another vegan, they probably are female; since 79% of vegans are women.

I’m the Most Masculine (and Rarest) Vegan You Know, but Probably By Default

Therefore, by default, I am the most masculine vegan you know. I’ll talk more about that in a minute…

I’m the Most Masculine (and Rarest) Vegan You Know, but Probably By Default

With about 2.5% of the American population being vegan, and only 21% of that group being male, it’s very clear that when it comes to my vegan lifestyle, I am in the minority.

To make myself even more of a rarity, unlike most vegans, I am not non-religious nor politically liberal. (I’m a Christian who is a Libertarian- which means I don’t endorse the Democratic nor the Republican Party, nor do I believe in forcing my religious beliefs on others.)

I’m the Most Masculine (and Rarest) Vegan You Know, but Probably By Default

I am a very rare demographic. You likely don’t know any other vegan males in your social circle who are also both religious and non-political.

I’m the Most Masculine (and Rarest) Vegan You Know, but Probably By Default

And somewhere in the midst of all these labels, I’m by default, still masculine. I promote healthy masculinity; in fact, it’s one of the themes of my blog: celebrating masculinity as a dad. Of course, I recognize that the definition of masculinity varies based on who you ask.

I’m the Most Masculine (and Rarest) Vegan You Know, By Default

No, I don’t hunt or fish; nor do I care about sports. Plus, I’m useless when it comes to home repairs…

But I do love exploring the forest with my son, taking him to monster truck events, testing out new cars, and mountain biking- to name a few of my rugged hobbies.

I’ve noticed how our society has collectively accepted the idea that eating meat (especially beef and bacon) is masculine. So imagine what a strange bird I am, being masculine, yet denying any reliance on pork (including bacon) or shellfish for the past 7 and a half years, nor meat for the past 4 and a half years, nor eggs and dairy for the past 3 years.

But my own definition of masculinity has more to do with my role in society; more importantly, within my family of four. I see true masculinity as a set of paradoxes that I’ve collected.

I will close by sharing my concept of masculinity, which aligns with the traits I aim for daily, as a husband and father; all of which are rooted in emotional intelligence. This is my creed of masculinity. In my imperfect human state, I strive for and meditate on these attributes:

Strong, yet loving. Disciplined, yet merciful. Leading, yet serving. Assertive, yet empathetic. Adventurous, yet grounded. Dangerous, yet protective. Hard-working, yet laid-back. Structured, yet creative. Committed, yet free. Confident, yet humble.

Veganism

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Dear Jack: 5 “Bad Words” You Use When You’re around People You’re Comfortable With

5 and a half years old.

Dear Jack: 5 “Bad Words” You Use When You’re around People You’re Comfortable With

Dear Jack,

This past weekend, as Mommy’s sister’s family was in town from Pennsylvania, they got to hear all about butts, buttheads, poop, Donald Trump, and eyeballs; all of which are “bad words” in your vocabulary.

With us having very special visitors with us for these 4 days, you got away with taking no naps. And when you take no naps, you are less discreet in your words and actions.

(That’s one of the many reasons I don’t spank you; I don’t believe in physically punishing children because of how they act when they are hungry, tired, lonely, bored or sick– which are the reasons you “act out” when you do.)

In our house, you are not exposed to actual “bad words”. The only time you hear those is when, as the cool dad, I take you out go to see superhero movies– though you obviously don’t recognize the cuss words when you hear them since you don’t know them to begin with.

However, you have your own rolodex of bad words; most of which involve potty humor. The main one is butts.

Dear Jack: 5 “Bad Words” You Use When You’re around People You’re Comfortable With

I remember one time at the dinner table, having not taken a nap that day, you just kept saying, “Bbbuttsss!” then immediately laughing.

You were in a loop. You broke me down after a few times. You had me laughing every time you said it, though I was supposed to be a responsible adult, like Mommy was being.

However, it was indeed Mommy who bought you the book My Dad is a Butthead for the Kindle for when we went on our last major family vacation in Destin, for your 5th birthday- which happened to be exactly 6 months ago today.

(I realize that butts and butthead both have the word “butt” in them, but I consider them separate words in that a butthead is a person.)

As for poop, I suppose it’s always been one of your favorite bad words. That one is simply a given.

But you took it upon yourself to adopt Donald Trump on your list, after hearing that “Donald Trump is a bad word” from watching an episode of Fuller House. Granted, I personally don’t have a probably with you making Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton into bad words, as far as I’m concerned.

Dear Jack: 5 “Bad Words” You Use When You’re around People You’re Comfortable With

Eyeball is my favorite bad word of yours. Like Donald Trump, you decided on your own that this is an inappropriate phrase to use.

I love how you think you’re getting away with saying something sneaky when you shout out the word “eyeball” in vain.

Granted, you don’t say any of these bad words at school; or at least you don’t get in trouble for it if you do.

It’s not just with family that you have no filter with when you are in need of a nap. I remember a few months ago, we were meeting our friend Jarrid Wilson (and his wife and young son). He is a Christian blogger and author.

I’m glad that in the midst of us all having brunch together at Whole Foods, he found it hilarious that the word “butts” kept coming up in conversation.

As long as your bad words consist of butts, buttheads, poop, Donald Trump, and eyeballs, I’m just not too worried about it.

Love,

Daddy