A Story of Betrayal

I first met Brian at his wedding 10 years ago. He was, like me, a recent college grad marrying the love of his life, who just so happened to be my wife's best friend since 1st grade.

We instantly hit it off. He was an incredible golfer and I, well... I enjoyed playing golf with an incredible golfer. We both shared a passion for sports. He mostly Golf, Ohio State football and... later on... an unfortunate bond to NASCAR. I, on the other hand, loved Golf as well and (as has been well documented) a die-hard Redskins fan.

He was a Republican, as I was...and we both considered naming our first born daughter Reagan (we just happened to beat them to the punch). We spent countless hours talking about politics, golf, our families while our wives talked about.... well... I'm not real sure what women talk about when they get together.

Over the last 10 years our families, have had some memorable times together. We camped at Lake Tygart in West Virginia where Brian and Lisa (his wife) had an impressive aray of virtually every camping item Walmart made available (seriously... I mean their tent had a porch and they even had the sandwich maker). On that same trip, we visited a nearby "water park" that advertised a water "slide".... certainly they meant "slides" plural, we thought. But, sure enough, it was just one "slide"... singular. But we had a great time, nonetheless. Other vacations together, took us to such locations as Daytona Beach, Disney World, Virginia Beach and Charleston.

One memorable trip to their house took us to the Licking County Ice Cream (yes, licking) festival. We envisioned hundreds of varieties of ice cream flavors and festivities galore. Instead there were about 3 varieties of ice cream (chocolate, strawberry and vanilla) and something called "Roller Girl".... who we were very excited to see because in our mind's eye we pictured a dynamic talent that would do back flips and stunts on roller skates and we would cheer and chant for more, more, more! Instead, we got a 40 year old overweight woman in tights who skated around the parking lot. Yet, the bond of kinship between us was so tight that we had a great time nonetheless... and I thought it would last a lifetime.

One other crucial detail we had in common was our love for Fords. Over the last decade, Kelly and I have only owned Ford's (except for a brief tango with a VW Beetle) and I will always remain a committed "Ford" man. May God strike me down should I ever waver in my commitment. God, Home, Country and Ford... that's the way I see it... And Brian did as well. Over that same time period, Brian and his wife have owned no less than 12 Ford vehicles (they buy cars about as frequently as we buy toothpaste... about once a month). We would talk about our Ford's together. He would marvel at "Black Thunder" and how reliable it was. And I would ask him with excitement about his Explorer, his Focus, his Mercury (make no mistake... A Ford Product), his Contour, his other Focus, his other Explorer, and his other Focus and other Explorer.

When the time came to get rid of Black Thunder, I welled with pride as I told him its replacement... a 2006 Ford Fusion.

So, when he called me over the weekend and told me he was going out to buy another car... I automatically assumed it would be proud Ford purchase #13. I raved about my Fusion. The smooth accelleration, the improved styling on the interior and the look. I hung up feeling confident I had persuaded him to get the Fusion... After all, the decision was merely between getting a Focus, Fusion or Five-Hundred (now tempo)... I mean... he wouldn't... no.. he couldn't... he would never... ever... in a million years betray our Ford bond... our Ford air-tight, forged in real American Steel Ford bond.... right?

Wrong! He bought a Civic. A CIVIC! Japa - frickin - nese! Unbelievable! The Betrayal!

I'm re-evaluating our friendship.

Guys, it's time to take back Thanksgiving

For 2 centuries, Thanksgiving has been about family, friends and food. Of course, there's always been the turkey, the gravy, the sweet potatoes, and various horrendous dishes that your aunt insists everyone loves (seriously, who eats that green marshmallowy stuff...it's just gross). And for 2 centuries, for all that Thanksgiving is....it has just lacked a certain something. And that certain something is.... DANGER. Thankfully, however, this void has been filled in recent years by the most ingenious invention of our time.... the Turkey Fryer.

This year, I fried...err... survived frying my third turkey (this practically makes me a veteran). And it was magical. Nothing fuels your body with testosterone and adrenaline like a little danger.... and with a propane tank fueling an open flame pumping out serious heat that boils highly flammable oil that threatens to spill over at any minute... the Turkey Fryer delivers on some serious testosterone inducing danger!

In fact, the danger is so well-known that if you tell someone you are going to fry a turkey, you will start feeling like Ralphie from a Christmas Story (you know... "you'll shoot your eye out"). I told probably 10 people that I was going to fry a turkey this year and, inevitably, they will say 'be careful' or 'aren't those a huge fire hazard'....

And, well...yes.... yes, they are huge fire hazards.... but... that's kind of the idea... but with risk comes great reward.... and the truth is that no other method of cooking a turkey can rival frying it. It's just that good. Therefore...I declare... here and now... that every man must go out and buy a Turkey fryer of their very own. It's the suburban equivalent of climbing Everest. That is... dangerous.... but once you've done it... you'll be admired and exhalted by your peers (that is, the next door neighbors) and you'll be plotting your next conquest. And, in reality, I survived this year and can't wait for next year.

So men.... it's time to take back Thanksgiving. It's time to take the Turkey away from your wife... away from your mother... or away from your mother-in-law. No more of those unnatural oven bags that produce a soggy Turkey (do you think the Pilgrims used those? I think not). Say goodbye, once and for all to the Thanksgiving Turkey that is cooked in the relative safety of a modern kitchen (what fun is that?). We must re-introduce the danger that was present at the first Thanksgiving... We must be resolute.... and, from this point forward, we must all fry our Turkeys....

....Just be careful not to burn your house down.

Universally Accepted Urinal Etiquette

Question: You have to go real bad. I mean real bad. You enter the restroom and there you have 5 urinals. Let's number them 1 through 5, going left to right. Some guy is taking care of business in urinal #3. Which urinal do you use? Now, this presents a number of problems. First off, the guy in urinal #2 should be shot. It's a man-law... a MAN-LAW, I say -- and an obligation to mankind to use either Urinal #1 or #5 when you are the only one in there. Anyway... so, the hack is occupying Urinal #3. You only have one choice... this guy simply can't be trusted. Use the stall.

Let's be honest... urinals are weird. You whip out your manhood and pee on a wall (albeit a porcelain covered wall equipped with a flushing mechanism...and.. if you're lucky a pleasant smelling -- well, in an industrial solvent kind of way -- urinal cake)... and often you are within mere inches of another dude... separated by a thin wall. The awkwardness is minimized by observing a few accepted rules of etiquette (if you are a Sociology major, you should consider taking this subject on for a paper). To my knowledge, these have not been written down before... as men, we just follow them instinctively... and they include:

• Keeping your eyes straight forward and focusing on the grout lines of the tile. Alternatively, many places have started pinning newspapers inside of glass. This provides a great focus point for staring forward
• See above. A buffer zone is required. Never, ever occupy the stall immediately next to someone unless you have to. This also gets tricky if there are more than 3 stalls. I recommend brushing up on your placement by taking this test.
• Don't acknowledge the person next to you... even if you know the person... no talking allowed until after you've zipped up.
• No contact... kind of goes without saying... but I mention this because if you want to freak out a friend... put your hand on their shoulder while they are using the urinal.
• Flush... also kind of obvious... but, we have a phantom pisser in our office building who apparently feels it's necessary to display his urine for everyone by not flushing...Seriously... just flush.

Okay... so, there you have it. These are the unspoken rules of urinal etiquette... if you break one of these rules, you will disrupt the delicate universal balance of public restrooms and possibly disrupt social order forever... so ... don't do it.

Now, there is one exception.... and only one that I can think of... and that is at the Stadium. A quick story for you. I took a business trip to Chicago a few years ago and the Cubs were playing at Wrigley... so I got a single ticket to the game and went. At the end of the game, I had to go so bad. I mean... you've done it before... you've held it so long that once you're at the urinal, you have to convince yourself that it's okay to go. Ya... I had to go that bad. Anyway... Wrigley did not have urinals. No... that would be too inefficient. Instead, they just had this long stainless steal trough that dudes would line up at and pee (it was at a slight angle so all of the pee cascaded in a disgusting river of excrement that ended somewhere in Chicago). Well... that's a little weird for me... but.. you know... when in Rome...do as the Roman's do...and, besides... I really had to go bad (it was a close game and I didn't want to miss any of it...so I had to go badly since about the 3rd inning).

So, I wait my turn patiently. The Cubs has won and everybody was happy. I'm talking to everyone in the place. Then, finally, it's my turn. I step up to the plate.... and.... nothing. Call it stage fright... performance anxiety or the aforementioned mental obstacles that come with holding it too long (it was super cold out and a real weenie shrinker, I might add).... whatever. My mind was saying NO! NO! NO! Alas... I convinced myself it was okay and after a long delay was able to get the job done. Sweet relief! So, in this situation, even though every urinal law was broken... to this day... it was the most glorious usage of public restroom facilities I have ever had in my 30+ years I have walked the earth.

I don't really know how to account for that... other than to issue this one time only exception for stadiums.

So, if I missed any urinal etiquette, please post a comment. Together, we can create the most comprehensive and universally agreed upon urinal etiquette ever made available on the internet.

Winning isn't everything...

It's called Candyland. I think every kid in America has it and every adult since 1970 has played it...

...And it's completely a game of chance. Might as well just flip a coin and see who wins. It certainly would be alot quicker.

Only my 4-year old has not figured that out yet. During the Redskins game (the one that I just posted the -- "long and boring," according to my wife -- blow-by-blow account of my misery), Reagan was pitching the mother of all fits. I mean, it was a meltdown. I was too into the Redskins game to notice what it was about. Finally, she comes over to me... still an emotional wreck... and says that "mommy beat me in Candyland three times and won't let me win!"... and then begins some more inconsolable crying. This is not the first time she's had the "Candyland" meltdown.

So, I try to tell her that "winning isn't everything" and bla, bla, bla... Believe me, the hypocrisy wasn't lost on me that I had just yelled at the TV set for something boneheaded the Redskins had just done and the next minute, I'm trying to tell Reagan "winning isn't everything..."

But you know what? I didn't believe a word of what I was saying. I like the motto of Vince Lombardi, who once said: "Winning isn't everything... it's the only thing." Now, she needs to lose gracefully... and that will come with time... but I LOVE that she wants to win. I love the competitiveness.

I just need to do a better job of helping her to corral that competitiveness and "use it for good"...Because I don't want to raise my kids like Ricky Bobby... who raised his 2 kids (Walker and Texas Ranger) to be winners at the expense of civility (remember now that if he wanted his kids to be losers, he would have named them "Dr. Quinn and Medicine Woman" and that they threatened to both "scissor kick" their grandfather AND come at him like a "spider monkey" for being a loser), but I do need to teach her that no kind of strategy or thinking will help her win at the game of Candyland.

So, the takeaway from this story... competiveness... GOOD... whining about losing.... BAD... and, go rent Talladega Nights.

The blow by blow agony of a Redskins fan

For the first time in my 25+ years of being a Redskin fan, I gave serious thought to not watching the Redskins/Cowboys game. Realistically, the Redskins have no chance of winning. Injuries have decimated what was once a promising team... so, I thought I'd take my kids to see the Bee Movie instead... but, I did that with them yesterday... and, I decided....I'll watch the game... but If I'm going to go through the agony of this game, I might as well give you just a taste of my misery... so..here she goes:

4:07 8 minutes until kickoff....my prediction (and it pains me to say this) Dallas 34, Redskins 13. My heart is usually pounding and I've got my game face on at this point. Not so today. Sitting on my couch, in the basement... typing on my laptop. I am watching in glorious HD.. so that's good.

First Quarter
First observation... at least we get a decent broadcast team this week. We've been stuck w/ Kenny Albert the last few weeks and he bites... He's horrible. Aikman is good. Former Dallas QB...yes... but he's a good announcer... I don't have to turn the sound down.

Our kicker just made the tackle on the opening Kickoff...he's had a few of those this year. Not a bad tackle, actually.

Cowboys just did a boneheaded play. Nice to see other teams besides the Redskins do that, too...

'boys miss the FG.

Redskins in Cowboys territory...nice catch by Cooley....inside the 20. 'Skins are just teasing me right now. I predict a fumble shortly... correction... TOUCHDOWN....REDSKINS! Another nice pass and catch to Cooley. I'm still not holding my breath, though. (do you feel the pessimism that comes with being a Redskins fan?)

Redskins just missed an easy pick. Our D has the worst hands in the NFL.

Interception Redskins(ironic, isn't it...given my last statement)! Romo just threw an idiotic pass??? I'll take it. Again... it's just a tease at this point. I've seen it before... and, the reality is... the cowboys will keep firing the bullets. If the Redskins threw an early pick like that...we'd put our head between our legs and just run the ball -- every time. I'm not kidding.

3 and out for Redskins. Santana Moss drops his 1,000 ball of the season... been a rough year for him.... but he usually makes up for it. Still... I wish he'd stop dropping them.

Cowboys drive sputters out. Redskins D actually stopped someone on 3rd down... end of 1st quarter

Second Quarter
Starts w/Redskins up 7-0 w/the ball deep in their own territory.

Redskins driving...facing a 3rd and 4 after a decent drive that started at our own 4. The call? We run it....right up the middle...not surprisingly, we are stopped short. It's plays like this that make us losers. Gibbs decides to try the low-percentage 50 yard field goal. Of course, we miss it. Just symptomatic of how this team is. No killer instinct and the momentum swings back to Dallas. Remember this. Not playing to win. I feel a Cowboys touchdown coming on...

Another bad snap by Cowboys... but..they get the first down. Seen that a few times this year...it's almost like it's a designed play. The ball magically takes 1 easy hop right into Romo's hands.... every time... it's unreal.

Another missed INT by the 'skins. Again... worst hands in NFL... comes back to bite us -- on the very next play Dallas converts 3rd and long on pass to T.O. I think it's first and goal now.

As predicted.... touchdown Dallas. See my comment above about our lack of killer instinct. Led to a missed field goal, great field position for Dallas.. and a touchdown for Dallas. Losers. I love a team of losers. Arrggh.

Alright. Redskins get good kick return... solid two-minute drill and nail a field goal as time expires in the half. It's halftime...and miraculously, Redskins are up 10-7. But... just wait. The Redskins are the worst team in the 2nd half. They are great at blowing games (as they did last week against Philly).

Third Quarter
Starts off with a decent drive. Jason Campbell fumbles and Cowboys recover. He fumbles about once a game. Dumb mistakes kill the Redskins. They just aren't a good enough team to overcome mistakes. At least we are consistent in the 2nd half.... that is... we are consistently horrible...

Alright... I put the laptop down and took a break... I got emotionally involved in the game... I promised myself I wouldn't. Dallas up by 1 at this point. Start of the fourth quarter. We did give up a touchdown on 3rd and 19. Winners don't do that. Anyway, laptop is back and I'm back to not being emotionally involved.

Fourth Quarter
This is where the Redskins always get dominated against good teams. Can't wait!

True to form. Owens wide open. Touchdown. No one covered him. That's twice. Best player on the field and twice in a row they don't cover him? Typical Redskins. Down by 8.

2nd and 1.... 2 incomplete passes and it ends up being 4th and 1 and we kick the field goal. We are losers. They should have gone for it. We are just not playing to win. At least we made the kick. Down by 5.

Touchdown T.O. again. That is why you go for it on fourth and 1. We are playing a better team. Field goals are not going to win the game. T.O. needs to thank Sean Taylor for getting hurt. Alot of his TD would not have happened w/ him in the game. Still...poor job by Redskins... which is about the norm.

4th and 4. Redskins with the ball. This is the ball game here. Dallas will bring everybody, I'm sure. complete... first down.... time ticking....

Touchdown Redskins.... Well... at least we are fighting and not giving up. We need Romo to make one of his boneheaded plays...

Redskin D comes up big. Sack of Romo on 3rd down. 3:26 left on the clock. Well... it's the end of the game and we have a chance. Honestly, I can't ask for anything more. I wish they had figured out how to cover T.O. earlier...

Two minute warning. Redskins on Dallas 23.

Just missed a TD pass to Moss. Darn. 3rd and 10.

Interception. Typical Redskins. Game over. The Agony.

Dallas 28, Redskins 23

Such is the life of a Redskins fan.

It's Wednesday night.... It's Business Time

It's Wednesday night...and that can only mean one thing... It's business time:



If you're married and that doesn't make you crack up... something's wrong. (Special thanks to Justin Prather for introducing me to Flight of the Conchords).

The not so usual vows...

When my wife and I got married a few years ago... we made the usual vows to one another... you know "to have and to hold, till death do us part" etc, etc, etc. Both of our parents provided a good example to us of how to make a marriage work. However, we also sought out wise counsel from those we respected and who's marriages we wished to emulate. We sought out the wisdom of the Bible and what God had to say about marriage. And, some of the other stuff, we just made up on our own... but here's some of what we came up with that might not necessarily be "the norm" by worldly standards. So, here it goes...

• One Checking Account: I read a recent story on "how to make marriages work" and the author strongly advocated having seperate checking accounts. I disagree. From Day 1, I have turned over the finances to Kelly and she has handled it well. We don't have "allowances" or "personal money" or anything like that...She has complete freedom to buy whatever she wants and needs... but this only works because I can completely trust her not to go crazy. Reagan (my 4 year-old daughter) recently picked up on this arrangement and asked Kelly: "Why does Daddy work all day and all we do is buy?"
• Never talk bad about the other to anyone: Again, counter-intuitive by worldly standards. Most would tell you that you need an "outlet" to vent your frustrations with one another. This is nonsense... if it's worth complaining about to someone else, it's worth working it out together...
• Avoid one-on-one situations with members of the opposite sex: In my line of work, the "working lunch" is an absolute necessity. Sometimes, you just need to meet over lunch to maximize your time. My policy is...and always will be that, unless it's completely unavoidable, never to go to lunch or travel just one-on-one w/a member of the opposite sex. Now, I'm flexible on this... if it's an 80 year old grandmother, I'm inclined to bend my rules a bit. But I've got no business going to lunch with a 20-something girl just out of college. And if it's necessary, I just bring someone else along. Some will scoff at this... and I understand that... but, this works for us. I've committed that if I ever get to the point in my life that I have a secretary, I'm going to make sure she's a total double-bagger (so that I don't ever get hit with an "ism" lawsuit... a disclaimer: I will hire said double-bagger as long as she is just as qualified as the other candidates.... either that or I'll just hire a dude).
• Keep me cool: Lastly...and this is really the reason I'm writing this blog.... one vow we took was for Kelly to keep me cool. I had seen too many guys get married and then, somehow, they get stuck in a rut. A decade passes, and they are still wearing jean shorts and crew socks with a tucked in collared shirt. Actually... that look was never...EVER cool... so.. bad example. Anyway, I told Kelly to "don't let me wear what I want to...MAKE me wear what is cool." And this has worked well. I have evolved from a flannel wearing college student of the early 90's to suit wearing urban businessman of 2007. The key is to remain well-dressed without being overly trendy to the point of looking like some guy that could be named Skylar. Thus far, the transition has been seamless and Kelly has never let me down. However, recently, I have cause for concern. While watching the CMA's (yes, we are country music fans) the other day, Kenny Chesney (what is it about him that I dislike so much?) came out singing a song in what can be best described as middle school wear, circa 1988. Seriously, he was wearing poofy pleated pants (no doubt made by 'Bugle Boy' or...possibly Jimmy Z -- remember those?) and a tucked in shirt. And, I made a comment... something like... what is he wearing??? And, Kelly said "... I don't think it's that bad." UH OH! Red Flag. Sirens start going off in my head. Kelly is my fashion compass...and something has gone haywire with it. I think it is just temporary... I'll blame the pregnancy for this glitch. However...make me this promise... If you ever see me in said jean shorts, crew socks and tucked-in collared shirt.... say something.

Helplessness at the Barber....

I get a haircut about once a month. And, since Reagan was about 18 months old, I have usually taken one of the kids. I'm not sure why. I get kind of a kick out of taking them out with me on Saturday mornings. And, they've always been good. In fact, they are so perfect, people tell me how well-behaved they are. And, for some reason... the babies LOVE going to watch me get my haircut. I have no clue as to why.

Well, until this morning, I had never taken both of them. It has always been either Reagan or Luke individually. Well, I decided to take both of them this morning. The reasons were many... but, mostly, I wanted to give Kelly some time to herself and to get some things done she wanted to get done (she is in MAJOR nesting mode right now... everything has to get done and it has to get done this minute). So, I asked both babies to go with me.... and, of course, they both were raring to go the second I asked.

Kelly didn't like the idea. She told me not to take both of them. And I knew it would be easier to deal with just one... but... again... they've always been perfect when I've taken them with me... so, since they had each other for entertainment.... this could be even easier -- or so I convinced myself. The reality of the situation, however, contradicted my logic.

It started off well. I strolled into the barber shop with Reagan and Luke in tow. They immediately go to their seats and sit patiently. My confidence.... and pride.... at this point are soaring. The Barber lady asks me something... but her English was lacking and I don't really know what she said. Anyway, I just look at her and say "Yes, Haircut" and sit down in the chair. Well, then I realize that she must have been asking if she could give the kids a lollipop.

This was my first mistake. I should have stopped her. I would have preferred they got a lollipop after they were good and we left. But, to be honest, I didn't think she would understand if I explained that and, well, the lollipops were already in hand... so, basically, I was committed. And, besides, everything was going well at that point.

The barber lady starts cutting my hair. She gets about a quarter of the way done. It is at this point Luke decides he doesn't like his lollipop and starts saying "Daddy, I don't like it. I don't like it". Then, the barber lady realized what he was saying and went to get him another. I told her not to and tried to stop her... but, again, language barrier. He gets his new lollipop and eats it in, basically, one bite.

Haircut about 1/2 way done at this point. Luke starts whining. "I want another lollipop."

"Luke, Stop it." I say firmly but quietly. However, the frequency and the volume at which the whining was taking place steadily increased. And, now, the relatively empty barber shop that I had arrived at is filling with customers. All in time to hear my (normally charming and well-behaved) son whining loudly for a lollipop.

Now, I'm angry and upset with him. If we were in a grocery store or the mall... we would have packed it up and gone home. Kelly and I are big on maintaining the parental control. However, I soon realize, that the kids basically have me by the balls in this situation. I have a half haircut going on, a barber that doesn't speak English, and tons of people watching.... and I'm wrapped in one of those barber shop capes.

So, all the kids can see is Daddy's angry head. I'm trying to remain calm. Trying to be stern. Desperately trying to maintain control. But, Luke is not having it. He wants his frickin' lollipop and he's going to let the whole place know it. And, clearly, he's not afraid of Daddy's red-faced, half hair-cutted head poking out of my gay cape. I've re-created the scene for the picture above using one of the kid's dress up capes. As you can see, I mean business. I'm intimidating myself just looking at that picture. Luke, however.... was unimpressed.

So, at some point, I make the calculated decision to kind of let him whimper and hope he keeps it down while the barber finishes up my haircut. Unfortunately, she was taking (what seemed like) FOR-ever. At some point, Luke walks up to me crying and I told him to sit down. The Barber lady said something like, "Daddy say sit down".... she was trying to help and be nice... except she was from the part of China where everything they say sounds like they are angry.... even if they are not. They could be saying "Jesus Loves You" and it would sound like they were upset with you. So, it came out as, "DADDY SAY SIT DOWN!!!!". This was too much for Luke to handle and sends him running back crying to his seat. Now he's really loud and I'm embarassed and stewing... but, again... I'm still just a head poking out of a cape at this moment.... and I'm helpless. Seriously, helpless.

FINALLY, the haircut gets over and the lady takes the cape off. Luke gives me the kind of "oh, crap" look and I march right over to him. I don't even remember what I said... but I was firm. Then, I grab up the kids, pay the barber. She (again, trying to be nice) tries to give them another lollipop and I say something like NOOO.... none for him... But I let Reagan get one because she was perfect. Well, this sends Luke into orbit. He goes into full-blown meltdown. So, as soon as we get out the door, I got upset with him... but, for some reason... I guess it was because I was just talking to the barber lady that didn't speak English very well... I'm talking like her... I'm looking Luke right in the eyes and I'm saying, "WHY YOU ACT LIKE THAT? YOU NO ACT LIKE THAT! I EMBARASSED!"

Arggh. Completely...utterly discombobulated... I carry my freaking out son back to the car and further discipline him. Then, for some reason known only to God, he snaps out of it and apologizes... and says, "Daddy, I'm sorry for being rotten."

And, well, from that moment on.. I forgave him and we moved forward...and had a pretty good day.

So, the morals of this story are:

1. Always listen to your wife;


2. You lose your kids innate fear of your discipline in a barbers cape and 1/2 cut hair;


3. Learn to say "No Candy, please" in Chinese; and


4. No matter how rotten your kids can act... forgiveness is there for the asking.