Honea Express

Archive for the ‘fatherhood’ Category

“If the stars were any closer I would fight them,” he said.

“The stars are not the problem, it’s the people between them that are causing all the trouble.”

“Then why is it called Star Wars?” he asked.

“Why aren’t you in bed?”

He stood there laughing in his pajamas, seeming so much smaller than a moment before.

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“The doctor called,” she said. “They say she only has two months left. Maybe three.”

“Holy fuck. How is she? How is he?”

“They aren’t good,” she said into a phone far away. “They found out on Friday, but you were in San Francisco and we didn’t want to bother you. There was nothing you could do.”

There still isn’t.

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“Is a cable car the same as a trolley?” he asked. His hands were grasping polls on either side and his feet were firm along the running board. The hills were fickle, climbing high then falling forever. The street was a blur beneath his dirty blue Converse.

“Are you having fun?”

He smiled against the wind and watched the peak rise to meet us.

“I am,” he answered.

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“We are shutting it down,” she said.

“Oh.”

“You have been here from the beginning, and this is hard,” she said.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry,” she added.

“I know.”

I walked for a while after that, lost in thought beneath a sky too blue and trees with the audacity to bloom.

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The day left brown oak leaves littered across the orange brickwork like a dried and forgotten fire. Their shadows twisted and turned as they flirted with the lamplight and teased my tongue with longings of pumpkin, nutmeg, and the slightest hint of cinnamon. Then the rain fell and they curled up to reach it, the last grasp of an autumn laid dying. For that is fall, life going out in a blaze of glory through coffee steam and a lightly-frosted window.

My children are warm, and their bellies full. That is more than many may claim, but more often than naught it does not seem enough. We are spoiled by billboards and jingles. We want in waves, and going without turns desire as barren as winter. The tide swallows our footprints and we spend our lives walking in sand-washed circles.

Spring is a song I heard today. I danced despite myself and even hummed a few bars when only a memory lingered. It had a good beat and was as catchy as a firefly. I keep it in a jar in the back of my mind.

I know a man that lives his life in nothing but happiness. He has had one wife, eleven children, and a guitar shaped like the midday sun that twangs in echoes from every direction. He shines like summer on a postcard.

A sentiment of seasons rolls through me for but a moment, and then dreams become distorted by so much reality. The threat is this, all would blur into constant motion if not for the things we hitch ourselves to. For instance, when I tuck my children into their beds my kisses are many and each a soft anchor. They may float like parade balloons in the night, but they are safe from wind and fears. I am tethered tightly upon the curves of their smile, and I have no intention of ever letting go.

The thing about winning a major award without any sort of advanced notice is that you’re often caught with your virtual pants down and something difficult to explain in your hand. Seriously, have you ever tried to explain the perfect glass of bourbon? It’s not easy.

So it was that I received an email announcing that I, or rather this site, was ranked in Babble’s Top 50 Dad Blogs, while Honea Express was sitting here neglected, loading funny, and covered in reviews.

Still is.

However, being listed is pretty nice, especially since I haven’t been posting here nearly enough. It happens.

I’d like to say thanks to Babble, and more importantly, thanks to you. If it wasn’t for you nobody would give a crap what I did in this space, and I appreciate that every day.

I suppose this is kind of a lame post to have up on the blog now that I’m getting ones and ones of extra traffic, but I’m tired, Tom Waits is on the radio, and I’m thinking about drinking in the dark until the night takes me home.

This is what winning looks like, people.

I don’t think any of my other parent/professional blogging was taken into consideration for the list, but that’s what pays the bills, so if you have a moment please click below:

Kids Should Skip School (The Stir)

In Defense of Boys (DadCentric)

Occupy Childhood: Invest in Futures (BabyCenter)

Parenting on a Budget (BabyCenter)

Halloween and Other Scary Things (BabyCenter)

 Top 5 Superhero Movies of ALL TIME (JoeShopping)

Maker of “Word With Friends” to Launch Gaming for Acquaintances (Insert Eyeroll)

Thanks for all that voodoo you do, so well.

This is going to be a long one. No, that’s not what she said. It was me. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, people.

Anyway, what I’m trying to type is that it is once again time to clean out the ol’ review closet. That means you’re all winners. Except there isn’t a giveaway. Remember, someone famous once said, “I’ll only review stuff that is worth reviewing,” and I said it on this very blog. What does that mean to you, the winners? I’m glad I pretended that you asked, because the following items are things that either I, or a member of my family, enjoyed, and as such we believe that you, or a member of your family, would also enjoy them. It’s all about the giving.

She did say that one.

Now, stuff:

Did you know that Duran Duran is touring in support of a new album? The record is called All You Need is Now, and OH. MY. GOD. that is so true. The new stuff is actually really good, but a recent show in L.A. proved that the old stuff holds up pretty well, too.

Also holding up well? Duran Duran. Seriously, the guys look better than they did when I was a kid (at which time they were also kids). It was like watching Brad Pitt and the Cloonettes up there (which, by the way, should totally be a band).

If you get a chance to see Duran Duran in concert you should do it. Tell them I sent you, I’m sure they’ll remember me. On a side note, don’t yell, “Rio!” over and over. They’ll get to it.

When I opened the Freaky Pets box I knew I was in trouble. There was one cute little toy in there, just chillin’, and two cute little boys behind me, not chillin’. I braced myself for the fight.

Luckily, my children tend to surprise me from time to time, and this was one of them. They actually shared the Freaky Pet, which is a plush creature that turns inside out — yes, inside out, and goes from cute to “cranky” in about three seconds flat. Also, online virtual world.

Did that just blow your mind?

Kids can personalize, train, and care for their Freaky Pets online. They can even connect with friends online and play games with them too! The plush pets and 3-D game combine the timeless fun of collecting stuffed animals with age-appropriate content online. It’s the future, folks. And the future is now.

I took that picture with my iPhone. Now it’s hanging on the wall in our living room. No, I didn’t nail my phone to the wall (although, thanks to AT&T I’ve been tempted on several occasions). I went to Easy Canvas Prints and had the photo placed on canvas — hence their name. It was easy — more hencing.

All you have to do is pick the picture of your choice, upload it to their user-friendly site, and then pick from a few options (size and so forth). It took me all of five minutes. Of course, the hard part is picking the photo.

If you know me in real life you know that I look like a caveman, but smell like a clean caveman, and that’s because I’m a firm believer in twice-weekly personal hygiene management. Thanks to Dove and their line of men + smell good, I’m turning heads where I used to be wilting flowers.

The Dove® Men + Care™ line is formulated specifically for men who prefer a mild, unscented body and face wash that clinically fights dryness better than regular men’s body washes. Clinically, people. That’s like WebMD and shit.

It’s also hypoallergenic and is created without dyes and fragrances for sensitive skin, not that any man has that. Dove says that their new deodorants and antiperspirants are designed to last 48 hours, but I’ve had the same stick for weeks. The stuff works.

If you’d like to know more about man smells you can read skincare tips from Dr. Benabiothe, who is apparently an expert on such things, or tweet Dove Men + Care at @dovemencare.

If you know me in real life you know that I look like a caveman, a ruggedly handsome caveman, that’s because I stole that last part from Castle (and the first part from the Dove review above). It’s an awesome show on ABC staring Nathan Fillion and Stana Katic as a writer and detective, respectively, that work together to solve crimes, create bestsellers and stir sexual tension. And it’s really funny.

Season Four just started on the TV box (which I don’t have, but I watch it on Hulu!), and Castle: The Complete Third Season just came out on DVD, which I do have, and I watch it accordingly. Still funny. Also, parenting skills.

FastPencil and Mercer Mayer have a new book called Mercer Mayer’s Little Monster Fun and Learn Book, which is better than it sounds. The book emphasizes early education and provides readers with learning fun in ABC’s, counting, and enjoying bedtime.

We received a copy in the mail today and the boys were immediately drawn to it. In fact, Atticus read the entire thing aloud to Zane over a bowl of Monsterpolitan cereal. IT. WAS. A. MONSTER. PARTY!

I’ll be reading the book again this evening — especially the part about enjoying bedtime.

Like Mercer Mayer on Facebook. I bet he’d like that.

And last, but not least, right before we moved I was sent a box of Green Lantern stuff. The graphic novel was fantastic, but not appropriate for my boys (definitely PG-13), and the animated version on DVD was equal on both accounts. However, the toys were unimaginative and not very well made, which seems wrong because Green Lantern is all about imagination. And staying in school, kids. Plus, the live-action movie looked so bad that I didn’t even see it. Still haven’t — and Green Lantern is one of my favorite heroes.

They did send Green Lantern rings though, which are so freaking awesome that I’m writing about it anyway. Darkest night and all that:

And there you have it, friends, reviews of things that I reviewed and more or less enjoyed (or my family more or less enjoyed them).

Disclosure: All of the items were sent to me by their respective manufacturers or PR Firms at no cost to me. The opinions, obviously, are my own. Please note, despite my having a bit of fun with the products I am very grateful for having had the opportunity to review them, and I thank those that thought enough to send them to me. San Dimas football rules.

There is a story there, beneath the fallen tree. Perhaps it sings like wind or runs deep like roots.

There is a story there, in the bright, green sea. It is full of trash and imagination.

The world keeps spinning and the stories blur between lives lived and souls squandered. There are those that do nothing but care, and those that do everything but. They all have their reasons. My job is to show it fairly and explain it just. Mine is not to justify.

I have hands held tightly in mine, and they are small and trusting. There are eyes on mine and they are sharp and watching. I find it hard to expand upon the ignorance and meaningless of it all.

The good comes easily enough, and we only need walk a moment before we find the wonder. It is the sunlight between the branches, the rain against our feet, a sky deep in all directions and the smile that should always be there.

Innocence is only fleeting because we choose to let it go.

The journey is not starting and it is not ending. It is a notch on a timeline filled with risks and careless stumbles, safety nets and milestones. The peaks are mirrored by so many valleys, each staggered with steps that sink and spiral, and the timeline folds and crumbles upon our back. We watch for rocks accordingly.

The peaks give to bend, but never break. From a distance the valley is a hammock swinging lazily, and the sweat beneath it pools and glimmers like an oasis. We have no choice but to kneel and drink. The salted waters taste of lessons and the sea.

The night is short on hours and long on longing. We have walked far and seen much and their world is as big as it is contained. I tell them what I can and strive to show them more. Most stories are never told, and mine are told too often.

Then there is proud and there is humbled and there are dances around the awe.

There is a story here, and I do not know if I am the hero, the villain, the reader or the writer, but we are all the characters, every one.