Payback

Two summers ago, against my better judgement, I let my kids entertain themselves with TV programming for the adult set.

Parenting is difficult enough but can be made more difficult when you have friends like this.

So it is with great pleasure that I share this moment of bliss - my boys filming me giving the creator of Wildboyz and director of Jackass 3-D a mamba. A white mamba at that...

I Got Bacon On My Mind

I Drive In Silence

I had just bought a new car. Okay, not new, but used, and was on the Interstate. The windows were up and the radio was off.

In the silence I listened for sounds.

The sound of mechanical problems, the sounds of an airplane chasing you, pretty much any sound.

And smells too. Like oil, transmission fluid, all that good stuff.

Buying a ten year old car can be nerve-racking to say the least but making sure it is up to snuff is a must. My brother thinks I'm delusional and paranoid. But I invested in a AAA card none the less. It's been a few weeks now and the Subaru Forester is doing just fine. It survived a five hour trek to Maryland and is slated for another lengthy haul to South Carolina next weekend. On the way to Maryland, the boys watched a DVD for the better part of the drive... so I drove in silence once again.

The return trip had them sleeping for a a better part of it, and again, I drove in silence.

My dad used to drive in silence. And it used to drive me bat shit crazy. "Turn on the radio at least," I'd think to myself. "Talk radio even," I'd think. Just give me some static to counterbalance all the quietness that enveloped the car. These were the days before Walkman and iPod my friends.

I remember feeling liberated when I got my first Walkman because it meant silence-free road trips, even if it was only a radio version and I had to scan for local rock stations in central Pennsylvania or the Jersey Shore when all I really wanted was some Minor Threat.

And yet now I have become one of them now.

One of the silent drivers...

Do The Math

My day job had me spending the weekend in Richmond, Virginia.

I've driven through Richmond countless times in the last fifteen years; I've stared at the buildings and studied the bridges yet I'd never spent an evening there.

But I confess I've always had an affinity for their anarcho-punk scene, for bands like Avail, Strike Anywhere, Wasted Time, No Way Records and the town's general D.I.Y. ethic that seems to pulse though the blood of anyone I have met from there.

The town reminded me a lot of Baltimore with its row houses, and New Orleans with its sleepy seediness, and Savannah with its Civil War history and cobblestone streets.

It was a town populated by characters and I cursed myself for not having a proper camera to document my experience.

While out running errands for the day job, where we had to go pick up some signage for the beer festival, I spotted this gem on the light post.

Sometimes you just gotta do the math, ya know?

The Rainbow Connection

It had been one of those weeks. The kind where no mater how much you got done on your To-Do List, be it personal or work-related, you still just feel like someone keeps adding blocks to your Lego tower.

To make matters worse, the photo shoot I had to AD for work ran ridiculously over schedule and I was hungry.

On the way back to the office, I spotted the OnlyBurger truck. I convinced my editor to stop so that I could get myself a burger. I was hoping they'd have Bacon & Blue on the menu but they didn't. While listening to me rant about the burger truck as I waited to place my order, I convinced my editor to try one.

She ordered the same as me and when we got back to the office, we sat outside and chatted, one of us talking while the other chewed and a brief rainstorm came upon us - it was gone as quickly as it came.

But it left this beautiful gem over the Historic Durham Bulls Athletic Park which sits directly across from our office. It is part of baseball lore and movie legend and a spot that has hosted many a blues fest and World Beer Festivals.

Armed with nothing but my cell phone, I snapped a shot and then took a moment to take this natural wonder in. There's that old cliche about how you need to stop and smell the roses from time to time; today it was about gazing at a double rainbow.

No pot of gold was to be found, but I have since been unable to get this song out of my head.

Bang, Bang.

I've long been fascinated by elevators.

I think this goes back to my days as a bicycle messenger - because I spent a lot of time in those boxes of transportation. There's a weird etiquette to life in the elevator, ya know? Another thing I've always pondered is the use of braille with elevators. And apparently I'm not the only one. Don't get me wrong, I think it is totally awesome that elevators have braille, my question is in the "How do they get to the elevator?" and "What do they do when they get out"? As a seeing-eye person, I've have some truly baffling experiences trying navigate the numbering systems of businesses and hotels so I can only imagine how completely frustrating this must be for a blind person.

Come to think of it, in all my years of riding elevators, I don't think I've ever encountered a blind person on an elevator.

Another thing I tend to look at is the signature from the Commissioner of Labor, who in the state of North Carolina just happens to be a woman by the name of Cherie K. Berry.

And apparently I'm not the only one who has noticed this either. She's even got a song dedicated to her.

But this photo was new to me.

Living in a carry concealed state, I often scan establishments for this sign. But seeing it on the doors of an elevator was a first. I know you can't take them into establishments that serve alcohol and they are not allowed at parades or funeral, but elevators?

Do this seem strange? Looks like it falls under the selling of alcohol rule.

Anyway, you may start seeing these pop up on the doors of hotel elevators nationwide.

But be sure and look at who signed the letter from the Labor department...

Food, Glorious Food

Panko fried asparagus with sea salt, malt vinegar and lemon.

Oh, and some Brussels sprouts for good measure...

Welcome to My Nightmare

There's nothing quite like a good nightmare to shake things up.

I had one last night, and as per usual, it involved aliens.

This time there was a big party. A party of epic proportions. Like Burning Man except that, if I recall, family members were involved.

And as my dreams tend to be, it was all over the place.

But the alien invasion did come. They dispersed some sort of spores that were like little nails/tacks/sharp objects which people easily inhaled. People were having trouble breathing and started dropping like flies on the ground as pandemonium ensued.

Then the machines, like metal spheres with octopus tentacle-like legs, began to spread bullet-sized magnets into the air. The magnets would then latch onto the person who had inhaled the "spores" like leeches causing the pointy "spores" to dig into a person's insides in the name of connection.

Then the octopus leg things sucked up the dead like a vacuum.

Yeah, I know right?

WTF.

The Currency of Skittles

My oldest son is currently obsessed with two things: soccer and skateboarding.

His soccer coach, after every game, hands out Skittles to the kids as a reward. All team members get regular. Captains of the game get wild berry, if you had an assist you get sour and for those who score goals there's tropical.

My son is more of a granola and yogurt kind of kid; he's the kind of kid that doesn't eat all his Halloween candy in one sitting. I knew he would quickly tire of Skittles, especially since he's usually a captain, almost always has an assist or two and is one of the main goal-scorers on his team.

So by now, with a few weeks left in the season, he's got a bounty of Skittles up in the joint.

Fortunately for him, Skittles are currency in the ol' neighborhood.

He recently scored a used Tony Hawk HuckJam Series deck for 5 bags of Skittles.

And he was stoked because it meant he was moving up from the micro mini he'd been skating for the last few years.

Even better was the father/son moment we had taking his trucks off the old board and putting them on his "new" deck.

A priceless moment indeed.

Now I just need to have him let me cop a few bags of the candy for this...

The Uncle Mike

My brother Mike, much like myself, is a serious foodie.

A couple of summers ago while at the Jersey Shore, he turned me onto a deli called Blitz's that served their breakfast sandwiches on kaiser rolls. We've had a long-running joke over the years about us one day partnering up to start our own deli, so we always critique the food we eat when we are together (and sometimes over laborious phone conversations). In our clever little fantasy world, we try to think up good menu items for our place.

After that trip to the Shore, all breakfast sandwiches made with a kaiser roll from then on have been dubbed, "The Uncle Mike."

So enjoy a shot of today's Uncle Mike, with cheddar, bacon and jalapenos.

Ohh Ahh Ahh Ahh

WWE wrestling is the new Pokemon with my boys.

There will always be some things that your children will latch on to from your youth that will inspire you and then there are things that they will obsess that can be mortifying.

Case in point: pro wrestling.

I never really got into it as a kid although I do remember the days of Jimmy "Super Fly" Snuka, Haystack Calhoun and Rowdy Roddy Piper.

But it was never something that ever really held my interest.

My kids have been skirting this fascination with pro wrestling for years as their neighbor across the street has had a deep seeded passion for the sport for years now. And in the last six months it has finally gotten a chokehold on my children.

My youngest son likes to now try moves on me and often asks me who my favorite wrestler is... and I always tell him that I don't have a favorite wrestler because I DON'T WATCH WRESTLING!.

His favorite the night of this pic was Umaga, the Samoan cousin of Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson. I just found out he passed away six months ago.

One day I'll be able to show my boys this movie which spoke to me on many levels.

The Power Of Suggestion

I was knee deep in work bullshit and my tummy was growling.

I was lurkin' in the murky world of Twitter when I saw a tweet about food: OnlyBurger was going to be at Sam's Quik Shop pushing their special of the day.

The Bacon & Blue with Red Onion Jam.

Doesn't that just sound divine?

Well it did to me.

So I shuffled over to the beer store parking lot then saddled up and placed my order.

And man was it fucking delicious.

Epic even.

I want another...

Five Is The Magic Number

The news is on.

And the weather folks are all in a twitter about the snowstorm that is about to bear down on us this weekend.

I've seen the panic in the streets here before, and generally, whether (weather!), it is a hurricane or an ice storm or a fucking blizzard, the people in the South lose their shit. But really, in the decade plus that I've lived here only maybe twice has a snowstorm lived up to the hype.

I don't want a foot of snow, but then again, if it is going to snow by god fucking snow!

Anyway, it got me to feel the need to post and in posting I realized that I've had this here little blog for five years now.

And, a lot has gone on since then.

I started it because I was getting a vasectomy and it seemed like a good way to talk to myself about it. I'd been a fan of journals and diaries for a long time; I am a documentarian at heart. I also started one as way to jog as they say. Because as a writer I needed to exercise my words and what better way then to talk about my days. I was, after all, a few years into my stint as a stay-at-home-dad and a few years out of a job as a journalist and felt the need to put my experience down on paper as they say.

Along the way I raised some boys, dealt with a lot of shit, had my car stolen, catered my ass off, told a lot of stories about past jobs and found some new friends who could relate to what I was doing on a daily basis.

As life tends to be, the ride has not been without its bumps, but there it all is for me, you, your mother's best friend, or someone linked in to facebook or some other web 2.0 bullshit to look back on and read.

I was never good at keeping up on the baby book, but damn I think I did a bang up job of blogging about life as a parent.

The Fairness of The Tooth Fairy

I'm discussing this matter over at Dadcentric, the parenting blog I contribute to just about every Monday.

How much do you pay your children for a lost tooth?

What do you do with the teeth years later?

Make a nice tooth necklace?

Put it in amber and make a paperweight?

Curious minds want to know...

Welcome To Sammytown

Um Yeah, You Know, I Heart This Band

Off With Their Heads - Fuck This, I'm Out from Mario Framingheddu on Vimeo.

For Jay Reatard R.I.P.

Mi Vida Loca

Yes, life has gotten crazy.

Nuts you might say.

So I hang on and try to stay sane.

I'm told I do my best writing when it is of the deeply personal kind but right now I'm just not up for the task.

My world was never green pastures and purple ponies by no means.

But I do know one thing, I need to write.

About something.

Anything.

Some Robot Has Found My Site

and now I get endless jim jam comments from the intrasphere...

and most in languages I cannot read.

Hello...

It's me again.

Summer slipped away in the blink of an eye. Mostly because I was busy as shit at work but also because I've been spending too much time wrapping my head around the world of social networking over at places like facebook and twitter.

Also I've started blogging around at Dadcentric and writing about music again over at Shockhound.

So until I can get back into the routine of some sort of regular posting, let's take a look back on what has happened on or around September 13 the last few years.

In 2005, there was frogs, hub cap sized turtles and my quest to stimulate my stay-at-home-dad mind with books. 2006 I was talking about bodily fluids and in 2007 I had to start putting the sniff test into action. Finally, last year I was giddy over my son playing football.

Just a month later, I would shed my stay-at-home-dad status and rejoin the working world after landing at job at All About Beer Magazine.