Published writer, compulsive reader, Old School Whovian, Match Game enthusiast, NKOTB fan, data hoarder, and - surprisingly, given that list - married with four kids. Welcome to my take on life, fatherhood, entertainment, and whatever strikes my fancy. Enjoy!
Friday, November 6, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
What's Wrong with the Office?
Is it just me, or is Pam on the Office really annoying since she got engaged (now married)? The character seems off this season. I get the sense the writers are a bit unsure of how to handle her now that Jim/Pam is resolved.
Nothing to Look Forward To
Heading off to bed. Lu had two teeth pulled yest evening, so I'm sure this morning will be a happy, joyous parenting experience.
Tone it Down
Jeez, Peter Gammons. I love me some Yankees, but your man-love for Jeter and Mo is almost . . . uncomfortable. Tone it down a bit. No need to recite a sonnet about them everytime the microphone is passed your way.
Yankees Championship, Pt. XXVII
Eight years ago, as my wife was in labor with our first child, I watched a Yankees game in the delivery room. She's never forgotten or forgiven me, but it was, in fairness, the playoffs.
A week later, with my wife still on bed rest, I held the newborn YaYa in my arms as I screamed with joy at a Yankee comeback in the World Series. I have video of it, actually.
Two years later, the Yanks lost the Series to the Marlins on the day I was out celebrating my wedding annivesary. It still gnaws at me.
A year later I took my Dad on a road trip to catch the Yankees in Chicago.
The season after that, I took my infant son to his first ball game - the Yankees game where Arod hit his 399th and 400th home runs. I blogged about it here.
I love me some Yankees. Why? Because they win. Seriously. They are determined, almost to a fault, to succeed each and every season for nearly a century. I admire that, and I adore many of the names that made them winners: Ruth, Gehrig, Joe D, Mantle, Berra, Bernie, Jeter, Mo, Arod. They are, unabashedly and without pause, committed to their traditions, and to their own greatness. They are a microcosm of the American ideal.
And now, finally, they're back where they belong: on top o' the world.
Congrats guys! What a team, what an effort, what a great World Series!
27 rings! Whoo-hoo!
UPDATE: I can't believe I forgot to congratulate the Philadelphia Phillies on playing a hard fought, tense World Series. I mean that - they're a hell of a team, and there weren't many moments where I wasn't sweating bullets. They'll be in the post-season again, count on it.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
I've Noticed
A disproportionate number of 'Caillou' episodes seem to center around losing and searching for Gilbert, their cat. Just ck out the one playing on Sprout right now. It's like a children's program spawned from Danny phobias.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
My Public Reading of "A Shadow of a Distant Life" at the St. Francis Library
I had another column in the Journal-Sentinel today, and I must apologize if you wasted three precious quarters on it. You should have let your kids raid the gumball machine instead. It was alright prose but I thought it was empty of soul and sincerity. This isn't false modesty or low self-esteem, just an honest opinion. So again, my bad. I'll do better next time.
On the other end of the spectrum we have that fiction writing contest held by a local suburb. No, I didn't win the contest. But, the judge said, my story had developed a little following, one that argued in its favor so strongly that the winner was decided by a hair. With that in mind, she asked if I'd attend the program and give a public reading of my work.
I said "Sure", but I was officially trying to squirm my way out of it as late as this afternoon. Oh, in my heart I knew I was going to go through with it - why else would I have shaved and changed my skivvies on a day off? - but the idea of standing in front of eighty people and reading a complete short story terrified me.
All the more reason to do it, of course. So at 6:30 Tuesday night YaYa and I traveled to St. Francis Public Library's meeting hall.
After the winners of the juvenile brackets read their work, the judge called me up front. She gave the audience the same explanation she'd given me (my first confirmation it wasn't all flattering b.s.), pronounced my name right (which always shocks me) and I got down to business.
"It's fitting that this was a horror story contest," I told the audience, "Because right now I'm terrified just standing here."
I am not a great speaker, but I have improved with time and practice. I enunciated, I stressed this and paused after that, and from time to time I looked up and made sure to make eye contact with the audience - and all the while my hands were shaking. And then, after five minutes or so, I was done.
"Wow," some people in the audience said - a top 100 Danny moment for sure - and then I got a round of applause. The M.C. returned to the mike "I think I heard some 'wows' out there, didn't I?" she said. "Thank you very much."
I returned to my seat next to a beaming YaYa and listened to the rest of the program, which included a presentation by ghost researcher and author Chad Lewis.
[Oh, by the way: I think my story was better, but the winner was a heck of a public speaker/reader. Tip o' the hat to him for that. I've got a lot to learn.]
After the program a few pats on the back, some compliments, a thank you from me to the judges, and we were on our way back home.
It was a good evening. A really good evening.
On the other end of the spectrum we have that fiction writing contest held by a local suburb. No, I didn't win the contest. But, the judge said, my story had developed a little following, one that argued in its favor so strongly that the winner was decided by a hair. With that in mind, she asked if I'd attend the program and give a public reading of my work.
I said "Sure", but I was officially trying to squirm my way out of it as late as this afternoon. Oh, in my heart I knew I was going to go through with it - why else would I have shaved and changed my skivvies on a day off? - but the idea of standing in front of eighty people and reading a complete short story terrified me.
All the more reason to do it, of course. So at 6:30 Tuesday night YaYa and I traveled to St. Francis Public Library's meeting hall.
After the winners of the juvenile brackets read their work, the judge called me up front. She gave the audience the same explanation she'd given me (my first confirmation it wasn't all flattering b.s.), pronounced my name right (which always shocks me) and I got down to business.
"It's fitting that this was a horror story contest," I told the audience, "Because right now I'm terrified just standing here."
I am not a great speaker, but I have improved with time and practice. I enunciated, I stressed this and paused after that, and from time to time I looked up and made sure to make eye contact with the audience - and all the while my hands were shaking. And then, after five minutes or so, I was done.
"Wow," some people in the audience said - a top 100 Danny moment for sure - and then I got a round of applause. The M.C. returned to the mike "I think I heard some 'wows' out there, didn't I?" she said. "Thank you very much."
I returned to my seat next to a beaming YaYa and listened to the rest of the program, which included a presentation by ghost researcher and author Chad Lewis.
[Oh, by the way: I think my story was better, but the winner was a heck of a public speaker/reader. Tip o' the hat to him for that. I've got a lot to learn.]
After the program a few pats on the back, some compliments, a thank you from me to the judges, and we were on our way back home.
It was a good evening. A really good evening.
Ginger's first playgroup!
I've got a big post on the way, but I wanted to sneak this one in.
Today Lisa took Ginger to her first ever weekly playgroup at the local community center. It's kind of sad that it's taken us this long to get her in one, since her brother and sisters were hard core playgroup fanatics by her age.
But hey, some perspective: the kid smears her poop on her face and digs it. Excuse us for not taking her out in public. I kid, I kid!
Note the puppy shirt, which is an iconic hand me down from YaYa, but best remembered from one of LuLu's professional photos of years past.
I was at home waiting for Smiley's school bus during the playgroup, but Lisa reports Ginger was pretty well behaved and had a blast.
Today Lisa took Ginger to her first ever weekly playgroup at the local community center. It's kind of sad that it's taken us this long to get her in one, since her brother and sisters were hard core playgroup fanatics by her age.
But hey, some perspective: the kid smears her poop on her face and digs it. Excuse us for not taking her out in public. I kid, I kid!
Note the puppy shirt, which is an iconic hand me down from YaYa, but best remembered from one of LuLu's professional photos of years past.
I was at home waiting for Smiley's school bus during the playgroup, but Lisa reports Ginger was pretty well behaved and had a blast.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)