Sunday, June 28, 2009


The glint in her eye was as bright as the sun filled the room. He kissed her and made for his car and the commute home. It was a normal commute. The sports radio talk shows and music was on. Like every time, he prepared and said it to himself.

It's dusk on the ride back and the fields were releasing steam as it got cooler. Eerie, and even eerier was the stag that presented himself around the bend. He had not seen a stag so close and as many points; fourteen. The burnt light was contrasted by the steel green of the field. A monument was in the foreground to the woods that began to creep up the hill behind the stag. The stag turned into the woods.

When he hung up the phone he was standing on the Hershey's milk can that stood on the front steps for years. He was three feet up. The hop down was awkward. Like mashing two words together, he stumbled and sat on the steps. The flint spun and the crackle of the cigarette lighting and burning down with the first drag was loud.

She was never a big baseball fan until Manny became a 10/5 guy. He never knew what a 10/5 guy was until she told him. Ever since then she new the schedule, watched many games and checked box scores. She had Papelbon's prep and move to home plate down, and showed the kids. The kids didn't care and he never forgot.

Sunday, June 21, 2009


What did I do? Two things: consequence and mistake. Is the consequence of my first post a mistake? Short answer is yes. Long answer is I can fix it. I kept thinking about it after I got over how awesome I was after the first post. Two POVs, I made a statement and created a place I can stake my claim. The other is of what interest will it be for you. Catharsis for me, drivel for you. I want it to be earth shattering for you too, hell, why else would I have updated my status on facebook for my 195 friends?

If I have to explain myself every time I get the willys over blogging, all I'll get are the unheard sighs, "this loser again." So eff it. Consequences. Mistakes. One I believe in and the other I make.

Oddly tho, I need to consider several things. I don't hold state secrets, but is this a forum to discuss opinion? These blogs will be about me, and may be about my wife, kids, family, work, and the list could go on. If I'm going to use this as a space to be me, those things are me, and I said I love them. So... where does that leave this? Full of myself. I need to be careful even if careful is what happens after I put my foot in my mouth.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

father - a retribute

This is a repost in a manner of speaking. A friend is involved with this cool company, B.B. Bliss. He's having a contest to win $100 gift certificatate for their products. Its a unique clothing line for infants/toddlers and uses the latest technology in sportswear, but for babies! Visit the site,, but visit the discussion page (Father Knows Best?) on facebook and enter a contest (limited time).

My brother and I were talking about how no one tells you the real story of parenthood when you are about to become a dad. The life draining aspects of parent/fatherhood are not on the table. If they were, I suspect the expression, “how could one billion Chinese be wrong?” would not exist.

You share the good stuff with perspective parents. As I think about that, the bad, nasty, pukey, shitty, pissy, bleeding, screaming, crying, whining stuff has slipped my mind. Listening to my dad tell of my childhood is often turned into a funny story. The mortifying moments, when, as a child, I pointed at someone and naturally stated why is that person like that within earshot, become funny reminiscences. So here is some more good stuff.

Perhaps the most humbling moment in my career as a father was the first moment I held Lily, my oldest. I knew every moment before that one I had taken my father for granted. I was reminded of that when James was born. Knowing there is nothing you won’t do for your children is daunting. Riddled with doubt and concern, but enjoying every minute of it is what being a father is all about.

There is another moment that is very humbling, watching your children play. When they are role playing, being a mother to a doll or father to a stuffed toy, and they do something exactly the way I have done to them and it turned my stomach to see myself in action. Quickly that behavior went away and an extra hug, kiss, and an apology was made.

This one is for my mother too, but my dad let me be who I am. My father was a football player, I never played, never had interest. I played soccer, and until I had coaches in high school and college, he was my coach. He was at every home game for any sport I participated in. When he was home he was present. He learned to ski at 40 and kept up with my brother and I. My son, James, likes ice skating. If he wants to be the next Chazz Michael Michael, I’ll be his skating partner, even though I can think of 100 other things I’d rather do.

All I can do as a father is give my kids the best I can give so they can go out in the world and be the best whoever they will be. That is what my father gave me.

Friday, June 19, 2009


I've always been conflicted. I'm an average white guy, and I've always been conflicted. If I am to fulfill my dream of writing the great American novel, this may be the way. It won't be a novel, however novel, but it will be great, and it will be by an American.

This first blog will serve as an introduction to the blog and an about me, therefore satisfactorily turning you off to look for another blog to read.

I wanted the web address be nowblog or blognow, a name long since taken. The use of the word now is simple, there is no other time. The initials of my family's first names are jklm. jklmnowblog is the site that will be my blog.

My blog, because its not yours. My blog, because I tell you about my life, not yours. My blog, because your life does not factor in, but may set me off. If you had a blog would it be about me?

You will read my opinions on whatever. Whatever sets me off in my pretty little world of meaninglessness. You may call me cranky and abrupt, but I disagree. I am a realist and I say it out loud, my filter may be off. I'll grudgingly settle for cynic, for at least it is based in realism. I may upset you with my style, but lucky for me the now is over and gone, please move on with me.

It is this article, Fast bikes, slow food, and the workplace wars:, that set me on this tragic path. I get frustrated when a thing doesn't work the way it was intended. Simple things made complex or you telling me about how life should be lived, because you find so much enjoyment in yours. The internal conversation I have is intense. Sometimes I share in reacting out loud, but through this blog you may enjoy every minute of it now.

I stand by every word I say. I may regret them sometimes, I may not make sense, I will be cryptic, I will be wrong, I will argue the opposite side of the point I'm making in the next sentence, but it is what it is, I am who I am, and I like it.

BTW, I have 2 kids, been married for seven years. I am a marketer in an engineering firm. I like these things too, in fact, I love them.