Cynical Dad

I Will No Longer Be Ignored

2008-07-06T23:59:00.004-04:00

For the past few months, I have been trying to get politicians interested in a few of my pet projects. It's not like I'm trying to get them to erect a statue of me in front of the capitol building or anything like that (I have no doubt that will happen one day, probably after I'm dead); my special interests will benefit a lot of people.

In short, I've become a lobbyist.

In my brief adventures with the political machine, I've learned that politicians aren't the easiest people to get ahold of. A State Senator has what? 100,000 to 200,000 constituents or something? What percentage of these constituents tries to contact the Senator on a daily basis? I would imagine very few voters write or email their representatives. So by my logic, given the low volume, I would assume that representatives would routinely answer their constituents' missives. WRONG!

Some don't answer emails or letters or return phone calls or come to luncheons you help arrange. I am so sick of being ignored.

Because of this, I am seriously considering running for State Senator next year.

Seriously. I want change. I'm tired of sitting on the sidelines and having my screams fall on deaf ears. If you can't join 'em, beat 'em.

Besides, every race has to have some crackpot on the ballot. Consider me the Token Perot or the Token Nader.

Unfortunately, I'm not a former lawyer, educator, or banker (I think 95% of all politicians had one of these occupations in their private lives). I'm also not well-connected and do not have much money for a campaign. So how will I generate some buzz for my campaign?

First of all, I'm going to need to create an extremely stupid and viral YouTube video. I'm thinking something with monkeys and puppets. We'll all sing The Rainbow Connection or maybe some Neil Diamond. I'll light my hair on fire at the end if necessary. I'm still ironing out the details on my video.

People will see me around town and say, "Hey! You're that YouTube guy with the monkeys, right? Singing the Kermit the Frog song?" And I'll reply, "Yes. That's me. I'm running for State Senator and I would appreciate your vote."

But only so many people watch YouTube, so I'll need other inexpensive ways to get my face out there (because you can't really call press conferences when you're a nobody, can you?). I will attend poetry slams and open mic nights and recite/sing my platform to the people. Eventually, the local alternative weekly rag will embrace me. Soon after that, the local conservative weekly rag will denounce me. And then victory will be mine.

In the meantime, I need to find a place to put all these damn skeletons. I also need to work on my people skills and develop a personality. Can you get that on eBay?

Holiday

2008-07-04T01:10:00.001-04:00

I'd like to wish everyone a happy and safe Fourth of July weekend. Please do not blow off an appendage or make out with someone else's wife or husband at the neighborhood BBQ. And for those of you who don't celebrate the Fourth, have a great weekend.

Now for the fireworks!

[Note to self: You need photography lessons. Or at the very least, you should try reading the damn manual. All your firework photos look like sperm.]

Song of the day: I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You by Black Kids

The Lost Summer

2008-07-02T00:37:00.002-04:00

I've seen many reports of drive-offs at gas stations in the news lately. That never would've happened on my watch. If someone drove off without paying, it came out of your paycheck. Do you think I was going to let someone drive off with part of my paycheck?

I would scan the parking lot, searching for people who appeared suspicious. If I spotted someone spazzing out and acting all nervous, I would take the shotgun off the wall.

I only had to use it once. Late one night, I saw a guy get in his car without paying for the gas. I ran outside, pumped the shotgun, and fired it in the air. He immediately got out of the car and said, "Oops. I forgot to pay."

Ok. That was just a fantasy that would run through my head every night at work. Only there was no shotgun behind the counter; if I had wanted to stop a crook, I would've had to pull a Brad Hamilton and throw coffee in his face.

I worked at a quickie mart one summer during college. I worked second shift three days a week and third shift two days a week. I also took Calculus III that summer. Between the ever-changing sleep schedule and the math class, I'm sure I lost more than a few brain cells that summer.

My boss, a grizzled ex-Harley dude who had done time for murder over a drug deal gone awry, took a liking to me. He told me several times over that summer, "My son is a loser. I wish you were my son."

Having a convicted murderer wanting to adopt you really tells you a lot about your station in life.

But for a loner like myself, this was the ideal job. There were no other employees in the store while I worked! The second shift was actually enjoyable. I would go in at three and get off at eleven, which left plenty of time to go do something that night.

But the third shift?

"This job would be great if it wasn't for the fucking customers" - Clerks

While there were some enjoyable parts of working the third shift, like watching the drunks stumble in after a night out on the town, locking the doors for an hour and blasting the radio while I stocked the coolers and mopped the floors, and blocks of free time when I could be alone with ~~the pornographic magazines behind the counter~~ my thoughts, there was a certain breed of customer that came in during the third shift that you had to stay clear of.

Never make eye contact. Never ask a question. Never give more than a "Yes" or "No" answer.

Never befriend an insomniac. Because that son of a bitch would return night after night, wanting to start a conversation while you're trapped behind the counter. No exit. No escape.

I was too concerned with dodging insomniacs to worry about robbers and stuff like that (other than the drive-offs). My mother did enough worrying for the both of us.

But nothing ever happened. The closest I ever came to any kind of sketchy activity was a guy taking a crowbar to another guy's head beside Pump #4.

Sometimes I miss that place.

Song of the day: Eaten By The Monster Of Love by Sparks

And We're Back

2008-07-01T00:01:00.001-04:00

I had planned on sharing fun-filled stories of our adventures in Myrtle Beach. I was going to show you all pictures of some of the crazy things you can find in Myrtle Beach.

But you know that old saw about making God laugh? Yeah.

Not counting the time spent at Black Hockey Jesus's pad, I think we spent a total of seventy-three minutes outside our condo. Sadly, our week revolved around lots of vomiting and even a nose bleed or two.

In my teens and twenties, a night at Myrtle Beach ending in vomiting and a nose bleed would have been considered a major success. Not now. Apparently the lust for blood and vomit fades over the years.

Anyway, just wanted to say hello to you guys and once again say thanks to Motherbumper, Dave, Marla, and Black Hockey Jesus for doing such an amazing job while filling in for me during our "vacation." Thanks again, guys! I hope everyone enjoyed your posts as much as I did!

Song of the day: Love Me Dead by Ludo

What If We’re All Just Fictions In The Mind Of Some Trippy Dude Named Black Hockey Jesus?

2008-06-30T00:01:00.001-04:00

Talk about amazing coincidences! I took my family to Myrtle Beach for vacation and asked Black Hockey Jesus to write a guest post for me. But get this! It's so crazy. It's like we're all part of some Cosmic Plan orchestrated by the Unfathomable Wisdom of the Universe. Black Hockey Jesus actually LIVES in Myrtle Beach and here we are, together, doing a live blog interview.

CHAG: What's up, BHJ?

BLACK HOCKEY JESUS (nervous): I am very happy to be here, Chag. It is very nice to meet you in person and to be featured on your very popular blog, Cynical Dad. I should stop saying "very" so much. I am honored to be here and excited. However, I am nonetheless very relaxed and unnervous? Wait. Is unnervous even a word?

CHAG: No. I don't think so.

BHJ: Damn! Shit! Damn shit! Can we edit that? Can we just scratch that part where I say I'm unnervous?

CHAG: Don't worry about it, BHJ. Let's just move along. First question. You've only been blogging for a month, but you seem to be doing well for yourself. How have you managed to make such a big splash in such a short amount of time?

BHJ: I have no idea. It's been totally crazy. But I'll tell you exactly what I did, Chag. No secrets. First, I read a million books in my early 20s in search of Truth & Beauty and other Important Junk until I had a philosophical crisis and peered into this totally rad infinite abyss filled with chaos & fire. Then I wandered around minding my own business for 10 years just doing all kinds of different stuff and thinking. When I started the blog, I approached it like 2 jobs. The first and most important job was to write the best posts I possibly could. The second was to figure out who was who in the blog world and to try and make an impact. I visited 500,000 blogs and found the people who were on every single blog roll. Then I read all those popular blogs and tried to make funny or intelligent comments on their posts, hoping they would check me out and like what they found. My first big break was when Baby On Bored liked my post about the Fat Bald Retarded Kid and mentioned me in her blog. Then Jenny The Bloggess mentioned me on Twitter and put me in The Houston Chronicle 3 times. The only reason anybody reads me is because of Baby On Bored and Jenny The Bloggess. They completely rule the universe. I have this totally sweet fantasy where my wife has a perverse midlife sexual awakening and decides she's down with a threesome. I look her in the eyes and tell her that I love her like ancient waters love the blue mountains. Coincidentally, at the same time, Baby On Bored's husband has an affair with Rachel Bilson and leaves her and Jenny The Bloggess's husband ditches her because she's a total nut job. So anyway they both find out about this threesome (because I boast about it heartily on my blog) and they plan a fight to the death at Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas for the right to be in the mix with me & my wife. It's called the Wrangle For The Triangle and it stirs up this whole media frenzy. But right before the fight begins, I leap in the ring, declare that there's enough of me to go around, and we all move to Utah. Isn't that one of the dopest fantasies you've ever heard, Chag?

CHAG: Well… that's actually a nice lead into the next question. Your blog seems to revolve around fantasy and imagination and the way they intermingle with reality. Could you say a little bit about that?

BHJ: Sure. In fact, I don't even make a very big distinction between fantasy and "reality" because fantasies are such a big part of my reality. Fantasies are reality. Imagination is real. Sure, things happen in the concrete world. Then all of a sudden you're imagining a bunch of stuff. These experiences occur seamlessly. All day long. I talk to my daughter. I think of my dead friend. A guy cuts me in line. I imagine busting his mouth open all bloody & toothless. This back and forth movement is what my entire life is made of, like waves coming and going on the ocean shore. I also frequently use a postmodern device where I reveal my posts to be self-conscious artifacts rather than transparent representations of "real" life. The posts aren't really real and I like to have them announce this and expose themselves.

CHAG: What do you mean exactly, BHJ? I'm not following.

BHJ: Well, for instance, you're not really interviewing me, are you Chag? You're actually just a device I'm using to create a guest post for your blog in the form of an interview to introduce myself to your audience.

CHAG: That's pretty trippy, BHJ. Because I feel like I'm really interviewing you but you're just inventing the whole thing. It begs the question: What if we're all just fictions in the mind of some trippy dude named Black Hockey Jesus?

BHJ: [shrugs shoulders—looks mysterious]

CHAG: OK you're kinda freaking me out. Next question. What's your sense of being welcomed (or not) into the blogging community? It can be kind of cliquish.

BHJ: O for the most part it's been very warm and hospitable. I already mentioned Baby On Bored & The Bloggess. Metrodad's offered me some awesome support. i am Bossy stopped by and commented. You put me on your page as your Current Infatuation. Tons and tons of people, too many to mention, have been super nice to me. Sadly though, I think it's the nature of the writer's frail ego to dwell on the negative. And no matter how many cartwheels or triple lutzes I pull off, I simply can't get Girl's Gone Child or Dad Gone Mad to acknowledge my existence. I have come to imagine them as my neglectful blogger parents. They're always too busy to pay attention to me and as a result I'm developing a handful of addictions to hard drugs and auditioning for porn. Eventually, I'm going to join one of those 12 Step programs and write a 4th Step and discover that I am truly lovable in spite of being ignored by Girl's Gone Child and Dad Gone Mad. Everyone in the whole world will hug me. So I hope your readers don't think I'm all about the sour grapes because I'm actually crushing my sour grapes and turning them into sweet, sweet wine. This is of course a poor metaphor to use in relation to a 12 Step program but it'll have to do. Girl's Gone Child and Dad Gone Mad's spiteful neglect is ultimately propelling me toward an awesome path of self discovery and spiritual growth. Soon, all my blog posts will be peppered with simplistic clichés about letting go and accepting everything or the courage to know the difference between wisdom and alcohol or stuff like that.

CHAG: You didn't mention Dooce. Any word or support from Dooce?

BHJ: O I'll never hear from Dooce because of our rocky past. I knew her back when she was plain old Heather in high school. We even dated when we were sophomores. I actually lost my virginity to Dooce when we were listening to "It Takes Two" by Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock. It was like we heard "It takes two to make a thing go right / It takes two to make it outta sight" at the perfect moment in time and we devoured each other in a fit of unpracticed lust. Then, get this, she left me for some college dude. What kind of wack college loser dates high school sophomores? Anyway, Dooce never even gave me back my class ring. Hey Dooce! Are you reading this? How about returning my frickin class ring?

CHAG: Is this for real? Are you serious?

BHJ: Totally. I mean it's not like the ring had a real ruby or anything. It was just a cheap garnet. But it's not about the price anyway. It's about the memories. The memories, DOOCE!

CHAG: Well we're out of time, BHJ. But you promised me a song of the day, so what'cha got for us?

BHJ: Well Chag, I read on your blog that you never understood Neil Young and I almost swallowed my tongue, so I thought I'd have to go with Neil. But it seems obvious to me now that the song of the day needs to be: "It Takes Two" by Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock. I want my ring back, Dooce!

CHAG: Thanks for doing this, BHJ.

BHJ: Namaste.

Song of the day: It Takes Two by Rob Base

Hope you all enjoyed the interview with Black Hockey Jesus. But I've got a small confession to make:

I am Black Hockey Jesus.

God it feels good to get that off my chest.

I'm sorry if I hurt anyone's feelings, but I just wanted to try something a little different. But then everything spiraled out of control.

Ok. I'm not fooling anyone. If you've ever read The Wind In Your Vagina, you know I'm nowhere near as funny as Black Hockey Jesus. Or creative.

But I am far sexier.

And if you're one of the few people on the planet still not reading The Wind In Your Vagina: what the hell are you still doing here? He is one of the funniest writers out there. Every single post makes me laugh out loud (how many sites can you say that about?). So drop what you're doing and check him out. Now.

And don't give me this "I don't have time to read another blog" crap. If that's the case, drop me and read him instead. You'll be much better off.

Who Would Have Thought That A Girl Like Me Would Double As A Guest Blogger?

2008-06-27T00:01:00.001-04:00

Today's guest blogger is Marla/FADKOG from the extremely funny ...For A Different Kind Of Girl. Marla might very well be the world's hottest bookseller (Don't believe me? Read the comments on her blog and check out the number of guys fawning all over her.). Marla also has great taste in music (Hell, she's the only person I've ever encountered online that's heard of The Rainmakers (She was actually in one of their videos (How cool is that?))), which is the reason I asked her to be my very first Guest DJ. See? I'm kind of like Kevin Smith. I use the same actors over and over.

She was paid handsomely for the kind things she wrote about me below. You don't think someone would do such a thing just for the hell of it, do you?

When I was 14 and spent my weekends watching Friday Night Videos, I made a vow to myself that I would never date a boy who didn't have the same firey passion for music as I did. The simple fact was, I needed someone secure enough in themselves to accept the fact that, regardless of the good times we had together, I'd one day leave them and become Mrs. Simon LeBon. Nevermind that "would never" was more realistically "might never," for it wasn't like a lot of boys were clamoring to date the photo editor of the school yearbook. I know that sounds sad, but I was OK with it, because what if TBS Night Tracks decided to show the unedited version of "Girls On Film" that night? I'd be screwed, and not as in cheap cheerleader on prom night style.

A few years later, I emerged as a glorious butterfly from the cocoon of the school darkroom and took off flying, minus the vow I made for myself. With couple boyfriends who said they liked Men At Work, but failed to prove it when tested, I eventually found myself back in front of the television on Friday night, puffy-eyed from crying over a break up and hours spent watching MTV. Irritated I hadn't held strong to my promise, I heeded the sage advice of Matthew and Gunnar Nelson, who, in their classic "After The Rain," told me "He never really loved you from the start. The only thing he ever gave you was a broken heart. Don't be afraid to lose what was never meant to be..."

It was time to recommit. I decided right then that I must return to my bleached blonde, severely shaved roots and seek out a partner who completed me and my collection of Prince albums.

I tell you all this not as a confession of my overall lameness, but as my professed and entirely blogical adoration of Chag. Chag is, I believe, the epitome of the type of person I would have attempted to charm back in my dating days. And by attempted, I mean we would have been at the same party, and maybe (because we're quite shy) we would have looked at each other and been all, "Hey," and "Hey yourself," and then moved on. But I would have asked all my friends about him, and then pulled a Blaine in Pretty in Pink and sent him kick ass computer messages in the school library until he agreed to hang out with me. A couple awkward dates later, we probably would have opted for a cool friendship.

But we would have still rocked prom together (theme - "Puttin' On The Ritz") hardcore!

Perhaps my confession comes as a shock to Chag. Or maybe that time he emailed me and told me I'd quickly tire of real life him and his real life ways after I proposed marriage in recent comments was his way of telling me to step off. If so, I'm sorry. I can't quit you! I believe we are equally snarky, as tightly wound, wonderfully cheap, and share a heartfelt respect for Cinderella.

The band. Not so much the fairy tale.

Also, the man is incredibly helpful (please hurry back and talk me down from setting a season pass on my TiVO for the new season of The Two Coreys, Chag!). Chag is the boy I vowed to spend the rest of my life with when I was 14. He's lucky our paths have only crossed via our blogs, because I can be pretty seductive in the way I say "Hey." I consider myself lucky our paths crossed this way because it took someone like Chag, with his equally fiery appreciation of music, to stand up and proclaim with me that "Pop Goes The World" is a damn fine pop song.

And to trust me with writing a guest post for his blog. It was a request I took as a seriously as if I was given first dibs on writing in his yearbook, which, had we gone to the same high school and hung out together making fun of the super popular kids, would have been filled with photos I had edited.

I'm well beyond 14 these days, married to a man who who has cuteness on his side because he knows so little about music and refuses to allow me to toss out his Rockwell cassette, and still imagine that one day, despite everything, I will be Mrs. Simon LeBon.

I will also be watching this season's episodes of The Two Coreys, even if Chag urges me not to, for part of me is perpetually 14.

Plus I need something to watch on the weekends now that videos no longer seem to exist.

Song of the day: Come Back And Stay by Paul Young

Braces

2008-06-26T02:42:00.008-04:00

Today is a special day for me: Dave from Blogography is filling in for me! I've been a fan of Dave's site for over two years now (yeah, I always arrive late to the party). Dave is a very talented guy: he's a great writer, takes amazing photographs, and is an incredible artist/illustrator (my apologies, Dave, if I'm saying that wrong). He blogs daily about his thoughts, things he enjoys, and things that piss him off, and often includes a cartoon of Lil' Dave and Bad Monkey. I'm sure most of you are already reading his site, but if you're not, you should really check out Blogography.

This is not Chag.

My name is Dave, and I have my very own blog called "Blogography."

For reasons which mystify even me, I have been selected to write a guest-entry here at Cynical Dad. This is ironic on a number of levels, not the least of which being that I am neither cynical nor a dad.

Well, okay, maybe I'm a little cynical.

Mostly about becoming a dad.

This was not always the case. There was a time when my main goal in life was to fulfill the American Dream by getting married and laying claim to my 2.5 children. On top of being a nice tax deduction, they would also provide a convenient scapegoat when you go buy yourself a cool new toy (like the latest Star Wars LEGO set) or awesome snack-foods (like Hello Kitty gummy treats). Everybody will assume that you're buying this stuff for your kids, so you can then play with your LEGO and eat Hello Kitty gummies free from judgement (just so long as your kids never find where you hide them).

But things never seemed to work out. In my twenties I was too busy having fun to be tied down and raise a family. In my thirties I was too selfish to sacrifice my time and money to settle down and raise a family. Now that I've reached my forties, I'm too set in my ways to be beat down and raise a family. I'd try to be sad about it all, but knowing I won't have to pay for braces when my kids hit puberty is a pretty cool consolation prize...

Instead I'm content to borrow other people's kids from time to time. Kind of like a rental program for guys who want to taste the Kool-Aid without having to commit to buying an entire picture of the stuff. You get many of the benefits of being a dad, but with a no-penalty, full-return policy at the end of the day.

But, alas, no kids of my own. At least none that I can foresee.

So do I have any regrets?

Kind of.

Did you know that your kids count towards qualifying to drive in the carpool lane?

21 Club

2008-06-25T00:01:00.001-04:00

If you're at all familiar with my site, then you already know Motherbumper. She's helped me blog The Oscars and The Scripps National Spelling Bee (and by helped, I mean she made all the clever jokes while I sat around with my finger in my nose). She's taken a turn as Guest DJ for a week. She is also someone I consider a true friend. So when I decided to ~~beg~~ ~~pay~~ ask a few people to write some posts for my site while I was on vacation, I just had to have her start off the festivities.

Ok. Enough of my gibberish. Here's Motherbumper:

Perhaps the best thing about blog sitting for someone on vacation is the fact that you can snoop around in the medicine cabinet, replace the liquor with water, and search for contraband at leisure. Not like when I was a teenage baby-sitter and had only the length of time it took to eat dinner at the local kick-a-boo and watch a feature length motion picture to discover what fetish/kink/gasp-worthy characteristics lurked beneath the smiling family.

But that's not what I'm here to babble about while I'm watering these sad, sad plants and dusting this here shrine to the vinyl EPs and LPs. Isn't that archway made of plastic 45 rpm record inserts and guitar picks just stunning?

Anyhow, I'm hear to babble about me and some past exploit that I've failed to prattle on about over my place. I've talked about living with the skaters before but have kept most of those stories offline because holy crap, my folks read my blog. Yet I've sort of gotten over that fact. Mostly because I'm too old to be grounded. Finally. Hell, it only took close to 39 years. So lets talk about my 21st birthday. Note that I'm doing this because I'm naive enough to think my family lives in a cave and has no idea about hyperlinks.

Anyhow, in Canada twenty-one is not a significant birthday unless you were really looking forward to finally being able to rent a car. But when you have three close friends who all have their birthday in the same week, well that only means one thing: party all week until your head explodes, a limb is severed, or you lose your job (whichever comes first). Good times.

This particular birthday we decided to have two house parties that straddled the party weekends. The first involved borrowing a drink menu from one of the crazy huge bars in town that served a gazillion kind of drinks. And when I say borrow I mean take off the table and never return it. We used this menu to create a gift list and we actually had the balls to assign some guests a bottle to bring so we could recreate our favourites. Pure genius. It must of been my idea. Can't remember though, I was too drunk during the planning stages.

The second party though, well it turned out different. Not bad different, more like hilarious different. Sometime during party week - it's hard to remember when due to aforementioned drinking - one of the hotties we all knew, promised each of the birthday girls that she could shave his head at our end of birthday week party.

He was hot. Like Eddie Vedder hot (it was the early nineties), he wore a kilt and it looked so right, and he wasn't an idiot. And we were all pretty-much single (I was on a break, I swear). Anyhow, other people found out about his promise and a few more guys followed his lead and offered to do the same. Well on the evening of the party as things progressed, the head shaving began and I must say, getting to shave a bunch of good-looking guys heads in the middle of a packed party was pretty freakin' awesome. But then one of the younger guys volunteered to have it done - he was underage and I swear was not drinking because he was one of those stone-cold amazing skaters (and snowboarders) who treated his body like a temple - anyhow, he jumped in the chair. He swore it was okay so we shaved his head like he was our best friend's younger teenage brother - know what I mean? Trust me, it was cute. And he looked good with a shaved head.

So the next morning, everyone in the house was lazy and hungover when the phone rings. Turns out that underage recently shaved head guy's parents were not impressed that their son shaved his head at a party and he was grounded until he was thirty. And he was being shipped off to boarding school. Can you imagine the guilt we all felt? Because you know, it's all about us.

For the rest of the summer we felt awful when we thought of him going to boarding school. But as the school year came closer, the grounding wore off and the boarding school didn't materialize.

So then we had him let us tattoo our faces across his back with ashes and ink.

Oh I'm kidding. It was our initials.

Anyhow, it was pretty much worth it because some of those guys looked super hot with a shaved head, let me tell you.

Song of the day: Hunger Strike by Temple Of The Dog

Reminiscing

2008-06-23T23:45:00.001-04:00

I've been spending a lot of time

lately. It happens every time I head for the beach. I start

about summers as a kid on the Jersey shore. I start

about earlier trips to Myrtle Beach with my family. I--

I can't go on. I'm full of it. This post is little more than an excuse to post photos of what might very well be the greatest piece of art in the history of mankind. It's seventeen feet tall and made entirely of concrete:

I think the bush is a nice touch.

See you later!

We really are leaving for a trip to the beach. But guess what? I've lined up four incredibly gifted people to fill in for me while I'm gone. In fact, after reading their entries, you probably won't want me to return!

Check back on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Monday to read their posts.

See you sometime next week.

Song of the day: Rush by Big Audio Dynamite

The Taming Of The Shrew (Surviving Your Child's Summer Vacation For Pennies A Day)

2008-06-22T23:00:00.004-04:00

Here's another installment of Surviving Your Child's Summer Vacation For Pennies A Day (Should that have been …Vacation On Pennies A Day? Oh well, too late now.). It's my little experiment where I try to find fun and cheap things for my daughter and I to do this summer.

After reading this tip, you will probably wander around dumbstruck for a few moments. After you gain your senses, there's a good chance you will say, "Chag, you're a genius." It's okay. You guys should probably be uttering that phrase more often anyway.

Lesson Two: Take Your Kids To Chuck E. Cheese's

Wait! Don't leave yet!

Look, I know every parent hates Chuck E. Cheese's. The noise! The expensive pizza! The bratty kids! In fact, every parent blogger must have at least one post in his or her archives that bashes Chuck E. Cheese's. It's like an Internet Law or something.

But what if I said you could have a good time at Chuck E. Cheese's and it wouldn't cost you much money? Think I'm crazy? Read on.

There are two caveats, however:

You cannot eat at Chuck E. Cheese's. It will totally break your budget. Pack a lunch to eat it at the mall instead.
You must arrive at Chuck E. Cheese's when it opens. I'm not talking sixty or even thirty minutes after they open. When they unlock the doors, you're greeting them with a smile on your face. Got it?

When you get there first thing in the morning, there are no other kids in the joint. Chuck E. Cheese's is not a noisy place when it's empty. But believe it or not, that's not even the best part of an early visit. During the past few months, I have been at Chuck E. Cheese's three times when they opened, so I can verify that the following three things await you if you get there in time:

Free Credits
When the employees turn on the machines in the morning, some of the machines have credits in them. Credits = free games! On our last visit, we found three video games that were already credited with tokens.

Free Tokens
Look around and you'll find tokens lying on the ground. On our last visit, we found two tokens. But to really take advantage of this, find out which days the employees open the video games to remove and count the tokens. I do not know how often they perform this ritual at Chuck E. Cheese's; I've only seen it once. But on that day, we snagged eight tokens!

Free Tickets
When the employees turn on the machines in the morning, they also make sure the ticket feeders on all the games are operational. If you're the first one there, you'll find that all of the games have tickets sticking out of them: some have only one but some have many more. Once we're inside Chuck E. Cheese's, I tell my daughter, "Go get the tickets!" She bounces back and forth between the machines, yelling "I found one!" or "This one has A LOT of tickets!" It's like The World's Loneliest Easter Egg Hunt.

On our last trip, she found 259 tickets.

Two hundred and fifty-nine tickets.

Do you know how much plastic crap you can get for 259 tickets? A lot.

Plus, you can have your child count the tickets and calculate how many she'll have left when she selects the trinket of her choice. It's an educational outing, too!

On our last trip to Chuck E. Cheese's, we lasted forty-five minutes, only spent a buck, and had a great time. When was the last time you said that about a trip to Chuck E. Cheese's?

Song of the day: Romeo And Juliet by Dire Straits

Walking Through The Park

2008-06-20T20:29:00.007-04:00

When you're young, you can't get older fast enough. But when you reach a certain age, you wish you could reverse the aging process. At what age does this phenomenon plateau and you're genuinely happy with the age you are? That number probably has a lot to do with the amount of sex you're getting.

Zoey and I were at the park the other day. She was riding her bicycle and I was walking next to her. An elderly lady came up to us, smiled, and said, "It won't be long before your Daddy will be teaching you how to drive a car!"

"Tell me about it!" I replied as we continued on our way. I looked over at Zoey, who was beaming from ear to ear.

"Why are you so happy?" I asked.

"I bet that lady thought I was TWELVE!" she exclaimed.

Song of the day: The Rainbow Connection by Kermit The Frog

Truth In Advertising

2008-06-18T22:53:00.001-04:00

Have you ever seen an old gas pump like this? I hadn't until a few days ago. The thing's like seven feet tall.

You know, I wouldn't mind paying four bucks a gallon if I got to use one of these things.

Ok. That's a lie. But it would definitely be a hell of a lot cooler.

Although something tells me it doesn't take debit cards.

This gas pump stands in front of a defunct Shell gas station:

Is that not cool as hell? Here's another view:

It's a Shell gas station and it's shaped like a shell!

Wouldn't life be much simpler if all businesses followed this model? Sporting goods stores would be shaped like footballs. Pet stores would be shaped like dog bones. Mexican restaurants would be shaped like tacos. It would take all the guesswork out of things. Big box stores would be shaped like big boxes -- oh wait, never mind.

And ladies, something tells me your husbands would want to tag along on your trip to the gynecologist.

Song of the day: Reunited by Peaches & Herb

Brown Bag It (Surviving Your Child's Summer Vacation For Pennies A Day)

2008-06-17T00:48:00.004-04:00

Here's the deal: my son will be attending camp at his preschool this summer, six hours a day for two months. Because gas prices are so damn high, my daughter and I will not be able to drive back to our house and will be stuck in another town for six hours every day. It was either drive back and forth twice each day or pay the mortgage, but I like my house. I'm silly like that.

My goal this summer is to line up cheap activities for the two of us. I thought I'd chronicle my findings to let you guys know how to have thrifty fun this summer. Most of the things I tell you will be common sense crap (like the one below), but I believe I have one or two lessons that might be new to you.

Lesson One: Brown Bag It

The easiest way to go broke is to eat out. Even if you hit the fast food joints, a combo for yourself and a happy meal for the kid will set you back ten bucks.

You can pack a delicious and nutritious lunch for the two of you for less than the cost of a happy meal. But where the hell do you go to eat your lunch?

Sure, you can go to a nice park and have an idyllic picnic lunch but there are several problems with that scenario:

It's like 100,000 degrees out there.
BUGS!
The restroom facilities usually leave something to be desired.
Did I mention it's hotter than the sun? And the BUGS!

The people at Burger King might get a little pissed if you unpack your Igloo in the middle of their fine establishment. So where should you go? Hit your mall's food court.

Yeah, you'll get some funny looks from the rent-a-cops and the custodian dude who has to clean the trays, but there's nothing they can do to you. As long as you're not brandishing a weapon, cigarette, pet, or a skateboard, you're in the clear. Pick a table and enjoy your lunch! Just ignore the packs of teenagers that have nothing better to do on a summer day than to sneer at you. They're just a big mess of studded belts and acne, so screw 'em.

I know what you're thinking: you can eat at the food court for free. While I agree that a lap around the food court sample stations followed by a drink at the water fountain will result in a full tummy, I don't believe your child's pediatrician would endorse a Bourbon chicken and Cinnabon diet.

Say it loud! I'm cheap and I'm proud!

Song of the day: Making Love Out Of Nothing At All by Air Supply

The Jerk Store Called And They're Running Out Of Me

2008-06-16T00:53:00.002-04:00

Zoey graduated from kindergarten last week. I believe a bunch of the girls are headed to Cancun for Grad Week.

They had a nice little graduation ceremony for the kids (yeah, who the hell am I kidding -- we all know it was for the parents). Right before they received their diplomas, the kids marched onto the stage of the auditorium and acted out the lyrics to a song.

I recognized the song, but couldn't place it.

When the kids got to the chorus, the light bulb went off above my head. I rolled my eyes and whispered to Ella, "Oh my God. I can't believe they're doing Celine." When she didn't answer me, I looked at her.

She was crying.

Of course, it doesn't take much to tug at her heartstrings. She's the heart and I'm the head. It makes for a good balance.

So I turned to the person next to me to see if she was a little bit freaked out to see the kids doing this strange Celine Dion pantomime. She was also crying.

I scanned the room and noticed there wasn't a dry eye in the house. It was like everyone was watching the last few minutes of Rudy.

It was then that I realized that I'm a heartless bastard. And while I've come to that conclusion before, it's never been as apparent as it was that day.

Song of the day: Because You Loved Me by Celine Dion

How To Tell When Your Child Has Outgrown Blue's Clues

2008-06-12T22:14:00.003-04:00

When you hear her scream at the television, "God, Joe! Why can't you figure this out? It's sooooo easy!" I was expecting her to throw a brick through the screen.

P.S. Do yourself a favor and watch the video below. The song isn't that great (even though it features David Byrne on vocals). But the video is funny as hell. This is proof the music video isn't dead. Yet.

Song of the day: Toe Jam by Brighton Port Authority

Local God: The Town With An Identity Crisis

2008-06-09T01:40:00.002-04:00

A month ago, I wrote about receiving many, many, MANY telephone calls from potential presidential candidates. Creative-Type Dad chimed in and said that in the days leading up to the California primaries, he received a taped phone call from Scarlett Johansson.

That Hollywood shit would never fly in North Carolina.

If you need a celebrity spokesperson around here, you enlist a NASCAR driver. Or if you're really ambitious, you go for the gold standard: Andy Griffith. In North Carolina, you can turn on your television anytime between 5 AM and 7 PM (i.e. seniors' waking hours) and find a rerun of either Matlock or The Andy Griffith Show, two of Griffith's extremely popular shows.

Andy Griffith was born in Mount Airy, North Carolina. Mt. Airy is like a lot of sleepy small towns in North Carolina. It has a quaint downtown. It has a movie theater that shows Hollywood's latest and greatest:

Ok. Maybe not the latest.

But Mt. Airy can claim something most North Carolina small towns can't: ANDY GRIFFITH LIVED HERE! Need proof?

Yes, you can spend the night in the very same bedroom where Andy used to sleep!

But Mt. Airy has taken its love of All Thing Andy a little too far. Check out their arts center:

Behind the Andy Griffith Playhouse is the Andy Griffith Museum. Since they were asking $3 to partake in its Andyness (Andiness?), I can't tell you about it. But I can show you the bitchin' statue that stands right next to the Playhouse:

And it doesn't stop there. Not only does the town proudly wave its Andy flag, it has also adopted the Mayberry (the fictional town depicted in The Andy Griffith Show) name:

If you take a walk around Mt. Airy's downtown, you'll see the following establishments:

I think you'll find more businesses in ~~Mayberry~~ Mt. Airy with "Mayberry" in their names than those without. The "M" section must take up 75% of their phone book.

But don't think Andy's the only character from Mayberry that gets love in this town. Are you a Barney buff?

Maybe you're an Opie devotee:

Or maybe you're a Floyd fan:

But you're really in luck if you're a Goober groupie. Not only is there a replica of Wally's Service Station, the two wreckers are adorned with the phrase, "Goober says 'Hey!'"

So this summer, instead of taking your kids to boring places like Disneyland, New York City, or Dollywood, plan a trip to ~~Mayberry~~ Mount Airy, North Carolina instead! Not only is it the home of lots of The Andy Griffith Show memorabilia/tourist attractions, the grave of Siamese twins Eng and Chang is only a few miles up the road!

This post was definitely not brought to you by Mt. Airy's Visitors Bureau.

Song of the day: Feel The Pain by Dinosaur Jr.

Chag Libs, Vol. VI: The Final Chapter

2008-06-06T00:03:00.006-04:00

This is it. The final batch of questions. YEE-HAW!

Let's begin with Cathy's questions:

1. What do you think of Extreme Home Makeover?
I've never seen it. When Zoey was first born, she had her days and nights mixed up. Ella and I spent most of Zoey's first month in the living room, drifting in and out of sleep, and watching Trading Spaces marathons. It was during this time that I became allergic to Ty Pennington.

2. When did you last cry?
I haven't cried since I answered Mom-101's question.

3. "goodbye" or "see you later"? Why?
See you later. Goodbye is so final.

But I'm lazy so I just say, "Later."

4. What did you eat for breakfast?
A Diet Pepsi. I don't usually eat breakfast. I'd rather have the extra seven minutes of sleep.

5. What's your favorite movie?
Jaws. Yeah, it's cheesy. But it's 100 different kinds of awesome.

6. How would you plan a vacation?
We're a family of four. While we can plan a location and dates for a vacation, when it comes to setting an agenda for the vacation… Well, that's just ridiculous.

We're going to the beach in a few weeks. Just for kicks, I'm going to "plan" one of our days. I'll let you guys know how successful we are.

7. Whom would you most like to play baseball (or any sport) with?
My favorite Yankee has always been Don Mattingly, so I'd probably go with him. Or Chuck Knoblauch. It would be fun to play catch with him to see if he ever got over the yips. I can look back and giggle now, but there was a time when Yankee fans collectively held their breath every time he had to make a throw to first.

***

And finally, here are Kittenpie's questions:

1. What do you think of celebrity gossip?
I don't seek it out. Sure, I'll scan the headlines of the rags when I'm waiting my turn in line at the grocery store. And I'll come across a nugget or two on some of the parenting blogs I read. But I don't really follow it.

That said, I seem to be more in the know about this stuff than my wife is.

2. When did you last spend a day doing things entirely for yourself?
1982. At least it feels this way.

When was the last time any of us spent a day doing things entirely for ourselves?

3a. Over the roll or under the roll? Why?
Over! Only savages dispense the toilet paper under the roll.

3b. Cats or dogs? Why?
Dogs. Dogs are fun, playful, and loyal. Cats hate people.

3c. Ketchup on eggs or not? Why?
Not. Ketchup should not be put on anything.

Seriously, if I catch the faintest whiff of ketchup, I almost gag.

4. What did you study in college, or find most interesting as a topic at that age if you didn't go?
Chemistry.

5. What's your favorite beer?
I'm a cheap date. I'll take a Miller High Life (there's a reason it's called The Champagne Of Beers) or a Yuengling.

6. How would you prefer your daughter to grow up -girly or tomboy?
A tomboy. But it's a lost cause.

There was a time when my daughter was a tomboy.

And then she started preschool. The end.

Seriously, I don't know what happened, but within a week of starting preschool at age 3, she came home babbling about princesses and crap like that. It's all gone downhill since then.

7. Whom would you most like to slap upside the head with a cold, slimy octopus?
The Detroit Red Wings fans who started that barbaric tradition of tossing octopi on the ice.

Thank You

Oh good Christ, I'm glad that's over with. How about you?

As a way of saying thanks for putting up with this little experiment, I'd like to buy you all a donut. Just go to your local Krispy Kreme on June 6th and tell them, "Chag sent you" and they'll give you a free donut.

Ok. That's a lie. But June 6th is really Free Donut Day at participating Krispy Kreme stores. Just go in and they'll give you a free donut (any flavor -- not just glazed). But my Canadian homies will have to cross the border to get theirs. It's a US-only thing.

Song of the day: Friends Of P. by The Rentals

Why You Should Be Following Me On Twitter

2008-06-04T10:33:00.003-04:00

I'm not planning on doing this on a regular basis (unless there's something I need to talk about that requires more than 140 characters (which is hard as hell for me because I have a tendency to ramble)). I'm still trying to transition from Stuff Only I Care About to Twitter. So here is some stuff you've missed if you're not following me on Twitter:

30 Days

The new season of Morgan Spurlock's 30 Days premiered Tuesday night. It's a show that takes an ordinary person (or sometimes Morgan Spurlock) and reinvents them as someone else (prisoner, binge drinker, coal miner, etc.) for thirty days. Can't wait for the Meth Head episode!

Monster Quest

A new episode of Monster Quest premieres tonight. It's about a vampire beast that has been attacking animals in a tiny NC town. As an amateur NC Monster Hunter, I can't believe I haven't heard of this beast until now.

Weezer

The new Weezer album kicks major ass and is easily their best work since Pinkerton. I recommend downloading the deluxe version as the extra tracks are just as good as the album's regular tracks.

Speaking of Pinkerton, you can download the album from Amazon for $1.99. That's almost like stealing the damn thing!

Rocking The Remote

I've got a post over at Smart Television Alliance today. It's about my kids' favorite music-related television shows.

NC Dad Summit

I'll be attending the NC Dad Summit on Saturday. Beer & BBQ! Unfortunately, I have been told that there will be no strippers, but I'm working on rectifying that situation.

If you're interested in attending, you can get all the details here.

***

So yeah, that's the kind of stuff I write about on Twitter (in addition to responding to other people's Twitter thingies (I have enough problems saying the word Twitter, so there's no way I'm going to say tweets (oops, too late!))). If this is up your alley, click here to follow me on Twitter.

Song of the day: Ice Cream Summer by Hanoi Rocks

Terror At The Lazy 5 Ranch

2008-06-02T00:34:00.007-04:00

We recently took the kids to the Lazy 5 Ranch.

When you get to the joint, you have to drive through a rather ominous gate that reminded me of the gates in Jurassic Park and King Kong. Of course, the sign on the right didn't help.

Once safely inside, you can see animals in cages/pens and some natural habitats. There is also a small petting zoo area. You could've touched the camel and macaws, but why would you want to do something crazy like that? The lemurs were separated from the public by a moat. I guess that's in case a dragon showed up unannounced at the Lazy 5 Ranch.

But the real draw to the Lazy 5 Ranch is the 3.5-mile safari. You are able to drive your own car through the ranch and feed the animals. What kind of animals, you ask? Animals such as these:

They also have animals that can't impale you, like these:

There were also lots of goofy-looking llamas. The one on the right was included because it was so filthy. The one in the middle smiled at me. The one on the left is not a two-headed llama; there are actually two llamas in that picture (trick photography!). Because if they had a two-headed llama, I think the place would change its name from the Lazy 5 Ranch to the Lazy 5 Ranch: HOME OF THE TWO-HEADED LLAMA! CHECK THIS SHIT OUT!

We bought two buckets of kibble to take on our drive. The animals will eat from your hand but if you don't offer them anything, they'll just poke their heads in your window to see if you've got anything to eat.

And then there was this asshole water buffalo.

I held my bucket of kibble outside the car window because there was no way in hell I was inviting him inside the car. He happily grazed for three seconds and then pushed the bucket out of my hand and onto the ground.

Me: That water buffalo stole all of my food!
Ella: Oh well.
Me: I'm going to get it back.
Ella: Like hell you are.
Me: It cost $3! That's half of our food!
Ella: So what?
Me: Just pull the car forward about two feet.

Ella pulled the car forward. I cracked the door and looked down at the bucket. The water buffalo's eyes met mine. I could see that he was thinking, "Just try it, buddy." So I shut my door like a wimp. That day, he was the King Of The Jungle.

But I still think I could've taken him!

About forty-five minutes later, a zebra pulled the same maneuver on Ella's feed bucket.

Ella: That's the end of our food.
Me: Get it!
Ella: I'm not fighting a zebra over the food.
Me: A zebra relies on camouflage to survive! You can take a zebra!

But she wouldn't even try. So we spent the final thirty minutes of the trek without food for the animals. I was half expecting the beasts to tip over our car.

You may be wondering what the kids thought of our day at Lazy 5 Ranch. I believe Zed would have liked for us to have coated him with kibble so the animals would lick him all day long. The boy loves animals.

My daughter, on the other hand, hated the Lazy 5 Ranch. At one point, she bellowed from the backseat, "THIS IS THE WORSTEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!" And it was all because of these beasts:

Ostriches. Emus. Quick Birds Of Death. What? That picture doesn't terrify you? How about this:

This is one of the Quick Birds Of Death staring in Zoey's window. See how scary he looks?

Still not convinced? Have a look at this:

This picture is blurry for several reasons:

The Quick Bird Of Death was lunging at me.
I was holding the camera with one hand and the bucket of kibble with the other.
I am absolutely terrified of birds, especially ones larger than me and mere inches from my face.

Zoey saw the Quick Bird Of Death lunge at me and start pecking at my food bucket (I swear those things move like cobras). She also watched the other Quick Bird Of Death stare at her while she was crying. She was too scared to roll up her window.

Unfortunately, this series of events happened about seven minutes from the start of our safari. By that time, there were ten cars behind us so we couldn't back out of the place. So we spent the next two hours listening to her crying, whining, screaming, and ordering EVERYONE to roll up their windows.

But we did gain something from this trip. We can now threaten Zoey with "Behave or we'll take you back to Lazy 5 Ranch!"

Works much better than "Santa is watching."

Song of the day: Mr. E's Beautiful Blues by Eels