I don’t think I can calculate how many waffles are consumed in our home. Even the youngest has received some pretty intense training and devours them with great gusto. I’m not sure his mother would appreciate my Cookie Monster sound effects. It might be seen as encouraging the flinging of crumbs.
My favorite part of the video is when he sees the camera and reflexively says “Cheeeese”. Do you think he has had his picture taken a few times?
Sometimes the boys need coaxing to get in front of the camera. Sometimes they don’t. Believe it or not, they all get along as well as expected for being so close in age.
The strangest epiphanies strike me when I’m shaving. This morning I realized, looking in the mirror with soap on my face, that over the years I’ve changed. We all change, I know that. But I’ve changed in a very specific manner. I’ve changed which Muppet I feel represents me best.
Let us start this journey in high school. Yes, I realize that many youth would have forsaken any thoughts of the Muppets by high school. But not all. Particularly those in show choir. My show choir experience was nothing like Glee. We did not sing Aerosmith, or Van Halen. We sang Neil Diamond, Chicago, Beach Boys, show tunes. And – wait for it – a Muppets medley.
I sang the Kermit part in Rainbow Connection. Which was kind of fitting. At that age, I was innocent and naive and was a bit of a dreamer. One who might sit on lilly pad with a banjo, metaphorically.
I actually sang this song in a Kermit voice. In public. I thought it was a success because some of the cute girls raved how charming my performance was. Thrilled, I thought this might be the springboard to getting a date. Turns out the only reason a cute girl would kiss a frog is because she was looking for a prince. Princes rarely hang around show choir swamps with banjos.
Fast forward a few years. I decided that if nobody will take you seriously, you might as well be funny on purpose. I always liked hats, puns, and some have compared my hair to fur. Fozzie is my best match. Fozzie is affable enough and tries hard. However, he isn’t particularly successful as a comedian. But he always bears with it. Waka Woka Wocka! Side note, I’ve seen no standardized spelling for this phrase.
Little known fact; during this period I wrote spec scripts for sitcoms and quit my job to drive to California in an attempt to land an agent. Somewhere in Oklahoma, my writing partner told me there was a misunderstanding. He only took a vacation. We had to get back to Ohio in three weeks. As Fozzie would say, “AaaahHHHHhhh!”
Which brings us to the present day. Which Muppet can I say I relate to best? One who I suspect in the Muppet pantheon is not even a protagonist. My eyebrows have thickened, but I’m not old enough to be one of the old fellas in the balcony.
Sam the Eagle is my guy. I dig culture, morality and patriotism in a non-ironic way. And that puts me at odds with large segments of the popular culture. I’m also nearly convinced I may be surrounded by weirdos. But I like the weirdos that surround me!!!
As much as his younger brother loves Star Wars, the eldest son love sports. In summer it is baseball. This winter he likes basketball, but he is football-crazy right now. He prodded me to find the Pro Bowl voting mobile website so he could vote when we were away from the computer. I suppose it is no surprise that he asked Santa for the things he did.
By the way – I misspoke when I guessed the century that the real Saint Nicholas lived.
My kids are more entertaining than I will ever be, so I’ve decided to grab a video camera and let them share their thoughts. Being so close to Christmas, sugar plumb droids dance in their heads.
My friend Jen is a smart cookie, a writer and a reader. But as much as I respect her opinion I also choose to ignore it from time to time. Because I fancy myself as wise and I feel nobody knows my preferences like I know my preferences.
Recently she told me how she loves her Kindle for Android application. I remarked that it sounded fine, but I could not imagine trying to read a book in that 3.5″ screen. (May I make a detour in this story to mention my wife also downloaded the application? But she isn’t really into books, and didn’t rave about it so I didn’t really think about it much.)
Time passes by and I forget the Kindle for Android app. After all, I have Air Horn and Whoopie cushion apps. How many apps do I really need?
But then – a stunning revelation. Some of these books you can get are – wait for it – in the public domain. “In the public domain” is fancy lawyer talk for FREE!
I now own two new books on my Kindle for Android. Both by G.K. Chesterton. “Orthodoxy” and “What’s Wrong With The World“.
The links above may be affiliate links for some website I recently visited. I don’t care – there isn’t much commission on FREE BOOKS. You hear me? Free Books on Amazon!!!
Today I watched more television than I typically do. The bulk of the afternoon was consumed by a glorious victory by my Cleveland Browns. It was nice to share the sweet peanut butter flavored ambrosia with my boys. Today’s contest against the Dolphins was broadcast on CBS. This network uses its NFL games to promote its other programming. This presents a problem. Much of the programming they are promoting consists of crime dramas and murder mysteries. Hence, fictitious and gratuitous gun play, violence and human corpses are splashed across the screen.
Watching sports can be a great bonding experience with my young boys, so I’ve learned to keep a remote near at hand so I can change the channel when the body count in these promos gets too graphic for our kids, the oldest being seven years old. Way back in the day I remember there used to be a safe harbor concept where adult themes were only presented in the evening after it was assumed children would not see it. This afternoon at about 3:15 I was not quick enough on the remote and we were treated to the image of a dead Santa. Gee, thanks CBS. That was a conversation I wasn’t looking to have with my kids.
This was still sticking in my craw when later in the evening I was watching Sara Palin’s Alaska. Sarah and her father were caribou hunting to put food in the freezer. I can’t really think of anything more wholesome. A father and daughter spending time together and respectfully harvesting the bounty laid before us.
But guess what? This program was slapped with a warning that the images we were about to see may be disturbing and viewer discretion was advised. So let’s compare and contrast.
Once again, I’m left to wonder how we got to this point.
The Cleveland Cavaliers are in full meltdown mode right now. I don’t think the season is lost just yet. But the Timberwolves DID just demolish the Cavs. I tend to laugh rather than cry when thing go south (I’m like Booby Gibson in that respect), so I threw it out to Twitter to find the Cavs a new fight song. I got it started with It’s A Marshmallow World
Some of the best (so far):
55FreakFan Death March
brownstownbrian Why can’t we be friends?
stewmj Break your heart – taio Cruz
OSU_FTW Metallica-Sad but True
apokorny Tears of a Clown
JustANailGirl You can’t always get what ya want , 99 Problems (she protects her tweets so I’ll let her decide if she wants to share all them with you.)
For the full list check out the #CavsFightSong stream!
Last night I lamented the sorry state of being a fan of Cleveland sports teams. I even questioned my decision to raise my children as fans of the Cavs, Indians and Browns.
It was just the rum and Coke talking. I intend to raise my boys as Cleveland sports fans. When we win it all in any league (I’m praying it is the World Series) that will be peanut butter and chocolate ambrosia!
The following is a dramatization of an actual conversation. I later told the boy I was only joking about the tent. I may have been lying.
The much ballyhooed return of LeBron James to Cleveland finally happened tonight. It wasn’t pretty. Terry Pluto sums up the event and the game. It is enough to say we saw a great disappointment for Cavaliers fans. I did not expect the team to win, but it was an embarrassment of colossal proportions. No offense and the defensive was softer than a rotten stinking soft-boiled egg.
Of course TNT couldn’t wait to trot out the “Cleveland sports is full of fail” package. Which makes me wonder if this repeated exposure to almost certain failure can actually damage the psyche of my children. I’ve always said that it is my birthright to be an Indians fan because my father inherited it from his grandfather. But my great-grandfather was a fan in 1920 and my father was a fan in 1948. They at least tasted the exotic ambrosia of a championship.
I have to describe that taste as “exotic ambrosia” because I have no idea what that taste really might be. Ultimate victory might taste like peanut butter. Still, I encourage my sons to be Browns, Indians and Cavs fans. I do think that facing disappointment in youth makes a better-formed man. I’m just afraid too much disappointment might ruin one’s optimism.
Which would be a shame, because my boys and I really like peanut butter.