I got Funked!!

As I woke up this morning and …well, after driving the kids to school…had some coffee, I realized that my ‘morning funk’ would not go away.

I hate that little funk that just won’t fade. It is so hard to shake. It’s like a back ache…a constant bother that gets worse when you try to fix it. I have been mulling around this morning trying to get to the bottom of my funk…and all that is doing is making me think of all of the little things that are bugging me, the fact that I still can’t find a job, that I am unwillingly still married to my ex, that we have to put down one of our dogs, that relationships are not always a bed of roses, that I am getting old…you get my point.
I am now thinking that if I had never tried to ‘get to the bottom’ of my funk…it would have been long gone by now.

Anyone have ‘funk remedies’?

Insects and Mass Suicide

Lately, I have witnessed a very odd phenomenon around the house. Over the past few days, as I walk around the house, lethargic flies have been catching my eye. I saw one on the stairs, a few in the kitchen…each day I saw several in different parts of the house. At one point I went and got the fly swatter and snuck up on a group of 6 flies. I splatted one, expecting the others to take off, but they didn’t…they just sat there awaiting their impending demise.

Today, I was sweeping the house and before I was half way done, I had swept up almost a dozen flies. Some of them were dead, some seemed dazed…yet others just sat there and let me sweep them into the dust pan.

I have never seen anything like this before and have absolutely no idea what the heck is going on.

Is there something deadly to flies in the air? Did the flies get into a bottle of booze? Are they laying eggs around the house and then dying? Do they fear my swatting accuracy so much that they just give up when they see me coming?

Have any of you ever seen such a thing? Any ideas of what supernatural occurrence is going on in my house?

Oh…and the other day while we were all at the beach, I witnessed another thing that I had never seen before…Hundreds of lady bugs in the sand right at the water’s edge. Christie and Megan spent about an hour collecting them and “saving their lives” while I pondered what the hell was going on. Why were they at the beach? In the sand, getting washed in and out by the surf?

Maybe the lady bugs and flies sense an earthquake or some other impending doom that we can’t. Maybe there is some insect mass suicide ritual going on…I have no clue.

Someone please answer these questions for me so that I can get on with my life and stop wasting my days trying to figure this all out.

Live Free Or Die

For those of you who no nothing about the great state of New Hampshire...where I grew up... Check this out!!



Who many of you have been to NH?
...And if you have not been there...you want to go now...right?!

That F'er Is Gonna Die!!!

I am not a violent kind of guy (well, except if you drive too slow on the highway, hold up the line at the grocery store, wear clothes that are obviously NOT YOUR SIZE…well you know what I mean) I am just not the violent type.

I love nature and all that comes with it (for the most part.) The line, for me, is usually drawn at bugs that ATTACK me…and by attack, I mean fly near my face or land on me. I take that as an act of aggression. Anyway… Living with ManicMariah, who loves all living things, I have learned to extend nature’s creatures an added luxury, the luxury of living if she can scoop them up and remove them from my “personal space.”

Now, on to the main topic. I am a guy who will actually admit that he enjoys hearing animals in nature, coyotes in the distance, ocean waves crashing, crickets chirping, birds singing, etc. …until recently, that is. Being here in Southern California, we usually leave our windows open, day and night, letting the cool ocean breeze flow through the house.

A while back, Manic Mariah and I would sit out in our front yard watching mom and dad Mockingbird, fighting off a gnarly band of crows in an attempt to protect their new family nesting in a tree in the yard. We’d sit there and cheer for the Mockingbirds. (we hate the crows.) That went on for a few weeks and the Mockingbirds did quite well in fending off the evil crows. We were then very happy to have this family of rough and tumble creatures taking up residence on our property.

These days…there is only one Mockingbird around…don’t know what happened to the others…but …well….let me explain. At 11PM EVERY night, this bird proceeds to (I will not call it sing) DESTROY the night with a barrage of about 8 different bird calls (chirping, tweeting and whistling) at the top of it’s lungs. Normally I would not mind, but this banter goes on from 11PM until sunrise…and never during the day. This intrusive noise is so bad that even from its roost in the front yard, I can hear it over the volume of the TV at the back of the house.

I and our teen have been driven completely mad with this F’ing irritating creature. I comment to Manic Mariah on a regular basis about it and she responds with, “Let the poor thing be. He is probably lost or something.” I’ve been holding off on any military action and did so as long as I could. The other night it just got under my skin to a point where I just could not take it any longer. I ran into Cody’s room, found his sling shot and proceeded to the front door. As I set foot on the front walk, the bird went silent. This stupid, shit-ass bird was some sort of mind reader and knew that there was only one reason for me to be in the front yard at midnight, dressed in fatigues and holding a slingshot and a handful of rocks.

I actually sat my old, tired ass in a bush (one with a clear view of the tree that was hosting the little F’er.) Sitting in a bush at midnight after having a few beers was not the ideal situation for me. I sat there for about 15 minutes. It was like I was a sniper in a war and I would lie in wait longer than my target….”do or die little birdie!!!!”

Finally, it started up again. At first I could not tell the exact location of the pesky thing and did not want to spray rocks all other the neighbor’s house – might be hard to explain to the police…alcohol, fatigues, sling shot, middle of night…you get the picture. Then I saw…branches slightly move. I honed my eyes on that very spot and continued to wait. (legs cramping, I had to burp, hard to focus eyes, etc) then there was movement again. Stealthily slipping a rock into the leather of my weapon and slowly extending the projectile…I gave one last check of my aim and let the rock fly. Listening intently, I heard the rock whiz through the tree hitting a few branches…and then the roof of the neighbor’s house. Shit, I hope I don’t have to wait another 15 minutes for this thing to move again. I didn’t…a second later it moved again….and started singing. I think it was singing…”you suck…you have no aim…you old fat fart!”

I reloaded and with every bit of precision that I could muster, sent another rock into the tree, this time hitting something that did not sound like tree…it was a bit more hollow. I remained in my sniper position to see if there would be any further enemy movement. I waited about 2 or three minutes…there was nothing. My eyes widened, huge grin on my face….I stood up. In my head telling myself, “I knew I should have been a sniper.” It was too dark for me to search the area for splattered bird at that point so I jumped out of the bush and ran inside, dropping my weapon and ammo on the ground as I entered. I raced upstairs and banged on teen’s door (I knew she was up by the reflection of the TV under her door.) As she turned her head to me, I blurted out, “I killed that freaking Mockingbird." She smiled and gave me a high five. I then went into my room, slipped out of my fatigues and curled up with Manic Mariah with a sense of complete accomplishment…and slept very well that night.

The next morning I rushed outside to marvel at my fallen enemy…but could not find any trace of him. Maybe the crows and a raccoon made off with him… there was nothing but I still did not hear any sign of that bastard. I was satisfied.

Let The Haunting Begin

As Mariah and I were walking on the sidewalk in front of our house, we paused to look up at the big spider web that we have been passing for the last week. Every day, the web was getting a little bigger, but we never saw the spider. I am...not so into spiders, but in this house…you do NOT kill (or even “relocate”) spiders. (more on that…see ManicaMariah.)

Tonight, there it was….a monster! Simultaneously, we both jumped back, as if we were in “Attack of the Killer Spiders” and the thing was going to jump onto our faces and suck our brains out through our noses. We stepped back and I knew I’d have to photograph this one. I ran inside to get the camera…and of course our 9 year old. Christie is one of those….nutty, animal-freak kids. We remove “unwanted” critters from her room on a daily basis. Snails, lady bugs, worms, rollie pollies…anything she can catch. Christie is that girl who would need therapy if she (even by accident) stepped on an ant.

I asked her if she wanted to go see the big spider while I took pictures. She was out the front door before I had a chance to turn around. We walked up to where the spider was, I pointed, she looked up and (with her mouth gaping open said, …”Oh My.” I started taking pictures (knowing I had to get the perfect shot for you all. Once I had about 5 shoots, I showed them to Christie who responded to me with…”Wow! He’s HUGE!”...(then I got to a good close up) she looked at the picture and then turned to me and said, “That’s sep-spatula…I mean scepatula…um….slaptulaR. Wait, what is that word?” I responded “spec tac u lar”
“Yeah! That’s it!”

Then I said…...”Hey, let’s go check out the one on the other side of the house.” We trotted down the driveway to the side of the house, Christie chanting under her breath, “spectacular, sptcatipillar, ...UH… do you think this one is gonna be as big?”

Chuckling, I said, “Hold on to your britches Little One….we’re about to find out.”
As we turned the corner, we looked up to the web (that we had really only seen from far away …until now. We (both of us with jaws dragging the floor) stared and as I said, “Holy Mackerel” she barked (like an army sergeant), “That thing is a...MONSTER!”

I clicked away and now, even though I have some cool photos, I don’t even know what kind of spiders these are. I kinda hope that one of these super-sized, creepy-assed spiders bites me. I'd be the ultimate Spider-Man!!!!!!

Spies, Code of Conduct and Boot Camp

It has become increasingly obvious to me that Mariah and I are going to have to sit down to reformulate our plan of attack with regards to the kids. The kids are all great and nobody is giving us any problems…as of now, but it is our goal to keep it that way.

The kids are all getting older and Mariah and I (unfortunately) continue to age as well…(I am even beginning to shrink!!) We want what is best for all of the kids and want them to grow, learn and conduct themselves in an age appropriate manner. Now the difficult part in this balancing act is that every child is different. Just because one 12 year old acts a certain way…doesn’t mean that every 12 year old should.

We try to push the kids to be ‘individual’ and to follow their instincts. We want them to feel comfortable being who they are…to a point. I do want our 10 year old to stop the baby talk, whining, going EVERYWHERE with the 4 stuffed animals and two little ‘blankies’ and drinking from a baby bottle…and I want our 18 year old to call to check in after school and ask before inviting 15 friends over at 9PM for a back yard party.

Now, with 6 kids ranging from 5 to 18, we have run into a sort of conundrum. House Rules. I am big on rules and consistency, while Mariah is big on individuality and reflection on her childhood. Both aspects are very important in operating a well-oiled family machine.

We have found it hard to have (and enforce) just one set of household rules. It would be ridiculous to have our 18 year old following the same rules as a 5 year old …or even 12 year old, yet where are the lines drawn? Do rules drop off as you get older?

I have thought that having House Rules that everyone abides by and a set of ‘Guidelines’ that drop off or get more flexible as a kid gets older. I, by no means, want to raise kids that are not allowed to make mistakes or make their own decisions…that would be just plain stupid…but at the same time the younger kids watch the elders and …want to act like them and have the freedom that they have.

We do not spy on the kids, nor do we overstep the bounds and get overly involved with the kids’ social lives…but we do have one or two kids in each of our children’s circle of friends that we know we can pry the truth from…our own little spy ring.

As I stated above, the kids are all great. They are honest, polite and are all doing exceptional in school. They all have great little groups of friends and have proven that they know right from wrong. BUT….they all seem to, from time to time, forget that we have rules….and they’ve completely forgotten what chores are.

With a 12 year old that ask to do or for something 500 times (instead of taking our first answer as ‘the ruling’), a 14 year old that ‘plays it by ear’ on a daily basis and ‘tells’ us what he is doing instead of asking…and an 18 year old that comes and goes, has boys sleep over and ‘forgets’ to check in on a regular basis….is making me think that we may all need to go back to family boot camp.

I feel as though I’ve been rambling in circles here so I am going to stop…the last thing that I am going to say is that I 100% endorse the notion that all children, no matter how old, need to know that they are not the boss…parents are and their rules and decisions need to be respected and not questioned or broken. I believe that it sends the message of security, strength and authority… and continues to teach them respect.

I am a wood slut

Ok…so if you haven’t guessed yet…I have a slight problem. You see, we are a family that loves the outdoors and we tend to camp a lot and we also take advantage of the great weather here in Southern California and sit out by our fire pit several nights a week.

The problem is that I have gotten to that place where I refuse to buy that stupid freakin ‘balsa’ fire wood that the local grocery stores sell for $6.00 per bundle of 5 logs. I am also unwilling to spend $50 per load of wood from the local firewood yard.

My thing is that I drive around town and stop at lumber yards and construction sites, ask them for any of their scrap wood. It works perfectly for camping and our fire pit…and it is free. I can load up the back of the car and have a week’s worth of wood with only a little bit of cutting with my saw.

I’m sure that this does not sound so bad right now, but it has gotten bad…I could be compared to a drug addict, on a quest for my next fix. I have been known to slam on the breaks, with a car full of people, throw the car in reverse…just to check out a new construction site. Driving down the street, I crane my neck as I pass by lucrative site, to see if there is any junk wood. When I start getting low on wood, I make a point of dedicating a 2 hour window of my day to troll the streets for my pot of gold.

Given the above…Mariah and the kids have all begun calling me; “Wood Slut”, “Wood Whore”, “Scrap Addict”, “Scrap Junkie” and other derogatory names. At first I did not mind, but ….an I sick? Do I need help? Is there a 12-step support group for this?

Well…I gotta run. It is Friday and I need wood for the weekend!

The English Language Sucks!

This post was on my blog the other day, but then I saw that we needed some filler here....so...enjoy.

I know that it has been a while since I last posted, but there has just been a lot going on in my life lately. Not to mention my latest issue.

The kids are off visiting with their father and the house is virtually empty. These are the times that I reserve to get some shit done around the house. The project at the top of my list right now, though not a huge one, is the cause for both anxiety and deep thought.

The project itself is simple…repair the leak in our shower. Remove the shower knob. Remove and replace worn inner part(s). Re-attach knob and seal. Simple…yes, I know.

The issue is as follows: I have no caulk. (No…I did not say COCK…I said caulk.) This is where the anxiety comes in. I hate the fact that I have to walk into my local hardware store and ask the burly guy that runs the place if he has caulk. What do you say? “Excuse me…I am looking for caulk.” “Do you have caulk?” “Where can I find caulk?” “Do you have light brown caulk? My wife does not want white caulk.”

What the fuck is wrong with the guy who invented and named caulk? Wouldn’t you think that he’d know how it sounds and that the majority of people buying it would be plumbers, builders, DIY “manly men” and the such? He could have just named it; goop or sealer or even sticky shit. (Although there may be similar issues with “sticky shit.”

So basically, I have not started my project and have a feeling that before I do, I will be down at the hardware store scanning the aisles for the caulk display as so this manly mo fo will not need to inquire with anyone about caulk.

I even thought about sending Mariah to make the purchase…but I know her. She would have too much fun with it and would be all, “Excuse me big boy….can you show me your caulk? I need some very badly.” OH HELL NO….I ain’t with all that!

A Hot Dad Alone

Here is a list of things a Hot Dad does when his family is out of town and he’s left home alone for an extended period of time:

1. Go directly from the airport to the supermarket.
2. Buy a big steak and a case of Guinness.
3. Go home and fire up the TV. Do not turn it off.
4. Crank the volume on the sound system.
5. Start drinking.
6. Use the bathroom with the door open.
7. Smoke a cigar on the back porch (shower afterward optional).
8. Play music really loud through the house, especially any songs with “explicit” lyrics that normally can’t be played in front of the young ‘uns.
9. Grill every meal.
10. Memorize number for food places that deliver.
11. Sleep in late.
12. Strut around nude.
13. Don’t shave (weekend only).
14. Movie marathon / Sports all of the time (depending on your preference).
15. Showers optional (weekend only).
16. Watch porn wherever you damn well please.
17. Do laundry only when necessary.
18. Food shop only when necessary.
19. Leave dishes in the sink (because you can).
20. Hook video game system up to the good TV. Play whenever the urge strikes.
21. Cold Chinese food for breakfast.
22. Cold pizza for breakfast.
23. Don’t make the bed.
24. Poker night.
25. Miss his wife and kids.

How about you? What do you do when given the gift of solitude?

-DGB

Overnight Excitement

I am very excited to announce that tomorrow I get to have my two boys spend the night with me. The last time I spent the night with them was September of 2005.

The divorce and visitation/custody proceedings have been long and drawn out. It is nice to know that things are finally moving forward. I have been spending weekend days with them but until now I have not been able to have them sleep with me.

I know that the first few sleep-overs will not be easy as they are used to being with their mother, but I am so happy that we will be having this time together. I have spent the last few days taping some shows and some of my favorite childhood movies for them, cleaning and setting up their room, preparing their beds and stocking up on their favorite foods.

Again…I can’t even venture to tell you all how happy I am …but at the same time I can’t help but to feel anxious and worried that they might have a hard time adjusting to sleeping at my house. I want it to be smooth and worry free for everyone. I know that it will all work out and that they will love spending every other weekend at my house.

Well….everything is ready and now…I just have to wait until tomorrow morning.

OCD Sucks !!!!!!

Due to some technical difficulties…or my ever-present OCD…I had to erase all of the timers for shows set to record on our satellite system. There were some conflicts and things just weren’t working right (as smooth as I’d like them to be.)

As to not forget any shows…and again letting some OCD seep out, I first made a list (I love lists) of everything that we, as a household, wanted recorded on a regular basis.

35 freakin shows!
And 25 of them are shows primarily for Mariah and I.

What the hell are we thinking? How are we supposed to watch 25 hours of TV a week?

That made me think about it in relation to other things in my weekly schedule…fine…It was an excuse for me to make another list.

Here is what I cam up with…In order:
Sleep – 56 Hours
TV – 25
HoursWriting / computer / work – 25 Hours
Homework help – 10 Hours
Laundry/cooking/household chores – 8 Hours
Carpools – 8 Hours
Sex – 6 Hours
Volunteering at the school – 4.5 Hours
Shopping – 3 Hours

A TOTAL OF 145.5 HOURS!

Being that there are only 168 hours in the week…I have about 22.5 hours unaccounted for. (I know I do other things so I will not stress about ‘losing time’ or anything.)

Now, looking at this list…I know that I need to move SEX MUCH HIGHER in the list, additionally, I am spending roughly 47% of the hours in the week sleeping and watching TV…WTF!? Like I don’t have better things to do.