Oh one day when you're looking back . . .

I can't believe I never blogged about this, but it's a story from last Christmas. (Well, the drive when I took my kids home just after last Christmas.) It illustrates the unique way in which my little family deals with the big topics. This time, it was about the fact that I'm not Mr M's biological father, but had never really explained that to him myself.

I've talked about this before, but usually when we're on long road trips, my kids like to play games and have contests to keep themselves entertained. When it's cold out (like when the temperatures are in the teens), there's usually at least one competition to see who can hold their hand out the window the longest.

We took the scenic way back to Arizona last year, and passed by the Grand Canyon. When we were near the north rim, the roads were covered in snow, and the temperatures were well below freezing (17 degrees I believe). Of course my kids had the contest to see who could hold their hand out the window the longest. I can't even remember who won, but I know it wasn't me. I didn't even play that time. I was a little nervous about staying on the road.

Five minutes after the contest ended, Mr M wanted to play again. Tortellini and Togers didn't want to because their hands hadn't yet warmed up enough to give it another go. I told Mr M that he'd need to find a different game to play.

Mr M: Alright, how about we play 'Who's Most Related To Dad?'

Me (Laughing, and a little shocked): Who do you think would win that game?

Mr M: [Tortellini] and [Togers].

Me: And why do you think that?

Mr M: Because you and mom made them, and mom and someone else made me.

Me: That's right. But you know I love you very much, right?

Mr M: I know.

And just like that, the conversation I'd been dreading having with the kid since the time he was born was over. Easy peasy.

We're full grown men, but we act like kids

Last week's Deer Tick concert was awesome, even if it was too late to be out on a weeknight. The venue where they played is notorious for starting late, and true to form, the opening band didn't take the stage until 9:30 or so, and there were two openers, so Deer Tick didn't start playing until 11:30. However, they did play until 1:15 a.m., and it was amazing. They even worked in a few cover songs. Unfortunately, I didn't get to hear them play Dirty Dishes or Long Time (my two favorite Deer Tick songs), but they did enough to make up for it.

Here's the set list:
1- The Bump
2- Easy
3- Baltimore Blues
4- Main Street
5- Chevy Express
6- Walkin Out The Door
7- Ashamed*
8- Bastards of Young (A cover of The Replacements song)
9- Clownin Around
10- Spend The Night
11- 20 Miles
12- Funny Word
13- These Old Shoes
14- Something To Brag About
15- Be Kind To Me (A cover of a song by Michael Hurley, I think)
16- Now It's Your Turn
17- Miss K.
18- Not So Dense
19- Scentless Apprentice (A perfect Nirvana cover)
20- Mange
21- Let's All Go To The Bar

I didn't get to bed until 2:30, but luckily I make my own schedule at work, so was able to sleep in a little. My brother wasn't as fortunate. Plus, he's older than me, so he sucks more anyway.

He kept trying to get me to hit on a cute girl that worked her way up in front of me. I kept telling him there was no way I was going to. Here's an excerpt of how the conversation went down:

Him: Go tell that girl that you like her hat.

Me: I'm not going to do that. That's lame.

Him: It's not lame. It's easy. You can introduce yourself to the lead singer of the opening band and tell him you like his music, but you can't tell a cute girl you like her hat? That's lame!

Me: Fine. I'll go up and say "I like your hat. It goes well with your tits."

Him: You're an idiot. Don't say that.

Me: How about this? "I like your hat. Can I knock it off your head with my dick?"

Him: No, don't say that either. Just say you like her hat.

Me: Alright, I'll say, "I like your hat. Want to blow me later?"

Him: [shakes head]







*They played this way different than it is on the album, but it was still really good.

I am the boy your mother wanted you to meet, but I am broken and torn with heels at my feet

I'm going to a Deer Tick concert tonight. I usually don't get very excited for shows anymore, but I'm excited to go to this one. I probably won't get home until one or two in the morning, but it'll be worth it. I just hope there are more people in attendance than the last concert I saw at this venue (last time there was a huge snow storm, and only five people showed - I felt bad for the band, but they played anyway).

The other day I told a girl in my lab about it and she asked who I would be going with.

Me: I don't know. I might be going alone, but even if that's the case, I'm still excited.

Her: You never know, you could meet someone there.

Me: That will never ever happen.

Her: That never happens because you never try!

Me: Exactly.

I believe there's a way to shut the things you don't need out

Yesterday I went to some hot springs with a few friends. One of them had apparently been having boy problems for the past week or so. When we were on the way home she started talking about changes in her life and how they've affected her personality.

"I feel like there are two of me. The old me, who is like this good little Catholic school girl, and the new me, who tries to sleep with every guy she meets."

Another friend said, "I feel like there probably ought to be a third option in there somewhere."

I added, "Yeah, maybe like a version of you that only sleeps with half the guys she meets."

We're at it again, let's roll just like we used to

Last night I stopped to talk to an old friend and some other people I knew were also there talking with him, including a couple of teenage girls.

As I tend to do from time to time, I said something vulgar, then realized that one of the girls was close enough to overhear me. I apologized to her dad, and he said, "That's okay. She knows all the swear words. But she also knows better than to fucking repeat any of them."

She enthusiastically added, "It's true. I know all the bad words."

I replied, "I'm willing to bet you don't know all of them. I guarantee I know some words that you don't know, because I know some words that not even your dad knows."

"No. I know them all."

"Really? What's snoodling then?"

"Snoodling?"

"I rest my case."