In my own defense, I am funny

The class clown, the funny guy at work, or the friend who's always cracking up the people in your group of friends, what do they have in common? Almost all of them are using the comedy as a way to defend themselves. So many people were shocked by Robin Williams depression and heartbreaking choice to end his own life, but most of the "class clowns" out there already knew that funny people are rarely as happy as their humor may indicate.
Here's one simple tidbit that you might find interesting, if you get to know me and one day I seem depressed or moody, it's not because I'm having a bad day, it because I finally trust you enough to tell you how I'm really feeling. It's because you've made it past the front I put up for people I don't trust, so I can keep them at a safe distance. It's likely that it was simply the first time that I was comfortable enough around you to drop the act.
I'm not proud that my humor can also be my defense mechanism but it is a part of my personality. True, it gets you some immediate popularity in situations where you're uncomfortable around new people, but it's also an easy way to keep people at a safe distance. When I enter a conversation and someone says something hurtful, my response is a self effacing humorous retort. Broke my heart? Sounds like its time to throw out a one liner.
I know I would love to tell you that I'm a bad ass who can bite a piece of metal and spit out nails. Chuck Norris? Never heard of her. But I'm not that tough, I take criticism to heart and a joke can be an effective way to disarm someone that I see as a threat. I genuninely care about what people think of me and want to be liked, even though I know that realistically, I can't get along with everyone and will not be liked by everyone.
It may hurt some of my friends to know that I'm keeping them at a safe distance, but in my own defense I am funny, and as my own defense I am funny.

What Fatherhood means to me

It's difficult to discuss a subject that has so many facets. I could write dozens of Blog entries and never cover a fraction of what being a Father means to me. But whenever Father’s Day comes around it gets me thinking about the subject. I think about my Father and the precious little time we had together. I think about my Brother who while dealing with the same loss stepped up and helped to mentor and watch over me after he was gone.

When I think about myself as a Father there are just too many feelings, emotions and stories to convey. I think the ones to cover are the big ones, the life changers.

When Deanna was born, the first time I saw her was just indescribable. Telling the story might help to explain it. We went to the hospital on May 2nd to induce labor. After several hours with no progress they decided to break my wife’s water to speed up the process. Thirty seven sleepless hours into delivery they determined that since the water had been broken for twenty four hours the risk of infection was too high, so they ordered an emergency cesarean. No one, of course, felt the need to warn me that the husband is not allowed in the delivery room for an emergency delivery. They did tell me there was a chance at least one of them might not make it. Nice, right? Thank you, Doctor Hopeful.

As they wheeled her down the hallway I pranced alongside her in my Doogie Houser MD outfit. Excited and terrified, with a varying mix of both emotions that changed without notice. We got to the doors for the operating room hallway and a nurse placed a hand on my chest to stop me. The rest of the team pushed my wife’s bed past the doors and then it dawned on me that I was horribly and terribly alone in the hallway…and they were not coming back!

Some poor nurse whose name I never got was the unfortunate one to walk out and run into me. I was not angry at being forgotten, not at all. In fact that poor woman likely saw something that would equate to the loneliest saddest lost puppy staring back at her. She asked if I was alright, seeing I was clearly upset. I said “They stopped me out here and brought my wife in for the operation and I DIDN’T GET TO TELL HER I LOVE HER, how will SHE KNOW?”

That seemed to get my feeling across, as the nurse starting crying too. She went back in and came out a minute later and said I could come in. The doctor didn’t want me in because I might be in the way. But the anesthesiologist gave up his seat so I could come in; he stood behind me for the operation.

When the Doctor held Deanna up it was a feeling I can’t explain besides to say that I’m convinced that I felt every single human emotion at the same instant. So happy and relieved but emotionally knowing that it was “game on” for raising a child from day one. My step daughter Teresa was kind enough to be a year old when I met her so I had never had to experience the most fragile days of a newborn's life. I remember Deanna crying when they placed her on the warming table. Her stats were better than expected and you could tell the nurses were pleasantly surprised. I touched her hand for the very first time and leaned closer, pulled down my surgical mask and said “its Ok baby, see, it’s Daddy”.

Ok, yes, in retrospect it’s quite obvious that she had never seen me before. It’s also true that as a newborn she probably just saw a big fuzzy Dad shaped blob. But regardless of all that, she stopped crying. So luckily my first parenting decision based on emotion and not logic was a good one.

Danny’s birth was the opposite, all the fear and uncertainty was gone. This was a planned operation and the doctor was much better. In fact Danny was one of his last deliveries as he moved on to be the head of the department for that hospital. He walked into the operating room and said “Hey it looks like today is someone’s birthday, I love birthday parties”

The other parent moment is a tricky one to explain. In fact I don’t even know the date or time it happened. I do know it was during the year where I had reached the same age that my father was when he died. Regardless of the date it was a life changer.

It was a moment of anger, a moment of righteous indignation where I realized that we are all finite beings. I was angry that I had these children but knew I only had a limited amount of time to spend with them. I guess I never questioned my own mortality until I had something that was so amazing that I didn’t want to imagine it ever ending. Realizing that there was so much to live for than I knew, finding a self-worth from being a part of someone else’s life. It just wasn’t a concept I was ready to process.

I’ve always been intrigued by the concept of three deaths. Not the Tolstoy novel mind you, I mean the one presented by David Eagleman. “There are three deaths. The first is when the body ceases to function. The second is when the body is consigned to the grave. The third is that moment, sometime in the future, when your name is spoken for the last time.”

The way I see it, I can sit around and mourn the movies they’ll never make about me or I can focus on how my name will actually live on after I’m gone. I don’t have a lot of resources with three kids a disabled wife and a single income. I haven’t even been able to pay back the people I owe, although I have vowed to do so one day. Right now all I can do is pour everything I have into my children and to make every effort to be the best Father and best example to them that I can. I don’t have career goals in mind for them; I don’t have rigid expectations either. I’ll be happy with who they are and whatever they do, because I’m proud of the people they are not just their accomplishment.

What I do have at my disposal is a vast and infinite love for them that will continue on after I am gone. So not only will I avoid that third death as long as possible but when they speak my name they will also be reminded of how much they are loved and that they have a value that is greater than any of the riches on this Earth. That’s the same way I keep Dennis Daniel Leary alive in my heart. They deserve that too.

Everything on the Internet is true!

What is it about the internet that makes so many people believe everything they read and fall for some obviously fake hoaxes? I mean, at what point do you read something and think "Gee, I'll bet Microsoft is going to have great success with this email tracking program, and I'll get paid $100 to forward it to 8 friends". Read that out loud and tell me you can do it without sounding like the dumbest airhead you've ever met. When you hear yourself it's apparent that is not normal stupid, like its super model stupid, like you should eat half a crouton after saying it and complain about how much weight you've gained from it. But sadly, a large number if intelligent non-supermodels fall for scams like this all the time.

Just like past generations that would believe everything that they read in the paper or hear on the news we now do it with social media. The number of people who get their news from Facebook, Twitter and other social networking sites is rising. How often are you seeing people post news stories on these sites compared to a few years ago. Not a lot of research is required.

The problem is that most people don't question things they read on the internet because it's posted by someone they know and trust. So they're basically applying the faith they have in that person to the article the person is showing them. I submit for your approval "Octopus paxarbolis", the endangered Pacific Northwest tree octopus.

My God man, just look at me, I'm lovable!

There was a study conducted several years ago by the University of Connecticut and the U.S. Department of Education to test students ability to utilize the internet for research on their projects.  The subject of the study was a ficticious animal called the tree octopus which had it's own fake website which was used as a part of the hoax.

They did not make it difficult for the students to catch that it was a fake.  The poor tree dwelling criters we supposedly endangered because of demand from the fashion industry as they were supposedly used as decorations on clothing.  Of course is also the threat of their natural predator the Sasquatch.  Yes, the also very not real Bigfoot is their greatest enemy.  But honestly who could blame him for swatting at a freaking Octopus hanging from a tree? 

Here's where the story gets scary, as if the idea of a freaking Octopus falling out of a tree wasn't scary enough. A majority of the students who took part in the study, completely fell for it. But the really disturbing part is this...not only did the students believe that the tree octopus was real, but when the researchers told them that the creature was fake some of them actually refused to believe them.  They insisted that the creture was real and the researchers were lying. Future conspiracy theorists in training.

This is not something that is typical to only children.  Reporters have been getting duped by similar fake stories as well.  Recently even the government of North Korea fell victim to a fake story by a satirical website called "The Onion" which had proclaimed Kim Jung Un the sexiest man alive.
Sadly, it's supposed to be the job of a reporter to research a subject and present their readers with the truth.  But some have been taking the easy way out and reposting another person's article without researching themselves.  Because of that, several fake stories have recently been published on multiple news web sites.  Once it's posted to social media there's almost no stopping it.

Web sites dedicated to disproving hoaxes and urban legends have actually been having trouble tracking down if a story is true or not, because so many news organizations are publishing the stories as true without doing the research themselves. So, the next time you read on Facebook that Homeland security is going door to door taking our guns, try doing a little research...before you panic and kill the postal worker who was trying to deliver your mail.  I think we'll all be a little better off, but don't take my word for it.

Life from a different angle

I'm not going claim to be a great person, I'm not sure I'd completely qualify as a good person. I don't believe in the entire philosophy of Karma but I feel that the general concept is fairly sound. The belief is that your actions will bring upon yourself inevitable results, good or bad, either in this life or in a reincarnation. I can't profess to know if there is any truth to it, but it certainly stands to reason that if you're a bad person good things are a lot less likely to happen to you...unless you're a Kardashian.

Then you have people like me who are anomalies, people who always try to do good things but have bad things come back to them the way Justin Beiber should. There is certainly no doubt that I have made mistakes that have had negative results on myself an others. But more often than not, bad things happen for no apparent reason than God has a sense of humor and I am a punch line.

This makes me wonder, because I think way to much about things like this, maybe something like Karma is involved. Could Karma be collecting on past debts? Could I have been a horrible person in a past life and this is punishment? Was I a high ranking Nazi or worse, something like a real housewife or a soccer Mom?

While Karma can try to run over my dogma it can't destroy my belief that people weren't sent to this world to suffer. I do think things happen to us to test us. I just feel that I'm getting retested far too often. Could I being failing and not know it or is there a point that I'm not learning from it? Do I belong in a remedial life class?

I only have one weapon in my arsenal to defend myself from these repeated pitfalls in life and it's one fit for the sappiest of Hallmark cards, I can continue to be me. Unless I could be Batman, because I would totally want to be Batman. I can't give my kids all of the things they need or want but I can make them understand that they are loved regardless of their successes or failures. I can't cure my wife, but I can let her know that the sacrifices I have made, and will continue to make to keep our family going, is worth it because I'm lucky to have her in my life.

But do all the people I care about know this too? What about my relatives that I hardly ever have time to talk to but follow on Facebook because I miss them. What about my friends that I love dearly and wouldn't want to go through this life without? This is a huge list of people!

Maybe the lesson I'm not learning is that I'm supposed to appreciate what I do have. Or use what I've learned to understand people around me who go through their own trials. Maybe I can use my humor to make someone laugh or say something thoughtful that makes someone think of something from a different perspective that they hadn't thought of before. I see life from a different angle than most, it's not brilliant but it's my own unique perspective.

There's also the off chance that by reading this and telling someone that you love how you feel about them that maybe, just maybe, you'll help my Karma. I'm in Karmic debt here people, help me out by helping yourselves and the people you love.

Shades of grey

I know with a Blog post title like "Shades of Grey" most readers must be thinking that I have lost my grip on sanity and read 50 Shades of Grey, or as I like to call it, 50 Shades of Inaccurate.  Fear not, I have no interest in reading Twilight with whips.  This post is about something entirely different.

To be fair to Mr Grey and his hapless lover/victim I would normally encourage any type of softcore porn that somehow finds itself acceptable amongst the housewives of this sexually repressed country. I also find it fascinating how many women are interested in the subject matter even though they would never admit it in polite conversation.

My advice to any man who's wife has read the book, read it yourself. If she found it interesting, you should know what it's all about.  But understand that this only means she is intrigued by the idea or fantasy and doesn't necessarily interested in acting upon it.  This is vital information to know before you surprise her wearing leather chaps, holding a riding crop with a ball gag in your mouth  If nothing else it will lead to some interesting stories for dinner parties.  But I digress...

I'm talking about how things are almost never really black or white in the real world.  It's often a grey area. Unless you consider the complete works of Nicki Minaj, which is all bad.

When I was growing up it was easy, we had cowboys and Indians, the Allies versus the Nazis and super friends battling some evil league of villains (who never seemed to plan things out properly). As we get older most of us realise that it's not that simple, both sides typically consider themselves to be the good guys. Were the American revolutionaries freedom fighters battling an oppressive British government or insurgents?

Often the winners are the good guys simply because they get to write the history books.

Is this such a bad thing?  Why not take a few minutes to consider the other side?  How often do we bother looking at why the other side feels the way they do, what if they have valid opinions too?  Are people that concerned that their beliefs can be so easily derailed by listening to someone else's perspective?  Is compromise such a bad idea?

By it's very nature, the human race will not agree in what is right and what is wrong.  If we all did there would be no wars, political parties or reality shows. Maybe it's time we all grow up and realised it's not all black and white.

Out of the mouths of babes

It's always been amazing to me that children have such a beautiful and unbiased view of what's going on around them.  I've always had a liking to the expression "out of the mouths of babes" because it really hits the mark.  It's actually a misquote of "Out of the mouths of babes (oft times come gems)."

Ok, to please any random grammar police that stumbles by my Blog, it's actually an idiom, so there, I hope your craving to correct me has been satiated.

Time after time, as my children were growing, I would be pleased to no end to hear their unique perspective on events in life that we often overlook.  Children have a very pure and honest view of their surroundings until their parents inject their own opinions and cloud the child's perspective. A child is not born with prejudice and phobias, that is something they are taught.

This is not always a bad thing, we're not ruining our children with our own fears and prejudices.  They need to understand that some people are bad and they can't just jump in a strangers van because he's offered them candy.  Or even worse, purchase a water treatment system because some nice stranger did an at home water test for them.

But I digress, I was discussing the things children say.  When my son was around three years old we went to a friends house for a birthday party.  I could see he was getting upset about something as I was talking to my friends.  So I pulled him to the side and asked what he was upset about.  He said he was angry because all those people were calling me Ken when my name was Daddy.

I was completely thrown as I never had that situation come up before. The girls seemed to have figured it out or they had heard my name before, he had not.  Rather than laugh it off, I explained that he was one of only three people in the entire world that are allowed to call me Dad, everyone else has to call me Ken.

I guess the point is that children are not short little adults and we tend to forget that. Not that there's anything wrong with short little adults either, I mean Tyrion Lannister is about as close to a spirit guide as I can get without peyote and a sweat lodge experience. The point is that we would do well to remember that a child's brain is developing and they don't think the way we do. They need to learn from us, and with an open mind maybe we can learn from them too.

Being sick and making the best of it

Well, the dreaded summer cold has claimed another victim.  I hate getting sick as much as I hate few other things. I don't mean paltry dislikable things like waiting in line or those idiots who type posts on Facebook in shorthand like they're texting each other. LOL.

I'm referring to the truly hated things like Nazis, the IRS, and soccer Moms. Not all soccer Moms mind you, just the haughty superior ones who always look at you like they're better because they have nothing else to do all day but dote over their children. They always seem to have Xanax on hand but I'm sure that's just a coincidence. [after rereading this post, I admit that I may have some unresolved issues with Soccer Mom's but my feelings on the IRS and Nazis are justified]

I had to admit that today I was too sick to go into work, and that's not an easy call for me to make. I have an unhealthy work ethic acquired from years of working in an industry where deadlines can not be missed and you better not call in unless you're bleeding from the ears. And even then they'll try to guilt you in to showing up with cotton balls in your ears to stop the bleeding. It's nice to work there besides awkwardly overhearing the occasional coworker crying in a cubicle near you.

I have different stages of sick.  Typically, the first stage is the "scratchy throat, nasal congested, good lord I hope that's allergies" stage.  Followed the same day by the "nope, it's not allergies" stage.  The third stage is the delusional feverish stage. 

Sadly, people never seem to appreciate the advantage to the deep thoughts we often come across while in the feverish stages of a cold.  You never know what little gems you might come across while cuddled up on the sofa watching old movies and daytime TV.  I've listed a few:

- I wonder why the kids in E.T. keep pedaling the whole time they're on the flying bikes. Is it "Just in case"?

- How funny would it be to work in a restaurant on Valentine's Day and hide fake diamond rings in all the girls' glasses and then just watch all the men's expressions.

- I'll bet the first person who discovered how to make popcorn must have been like "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!"

- What exactly was the  guy whp discovered that we can drink cows milk doing anyway?  I mean were people so excited about it that they never bothered to ask what he was up to?

Fever philosophy, I could be on to something big here.