Back to the Future.

It's been a few months since I posted anything and rather than make excuses I'm just going to say this; all I'm missing is a midget being shot out of a cannon in my living room for my life to be considered The Greatest Show On Earth. Hopefully starting up again means I'll do it on a more regular basis but I'm not going to make myself any promises I can't keep. Rather, just like the injury report filed by every team in the NFL every week, for now I'm listed as Day to Day.

2 years ago Ang decided to go back to school and get her Masters Degree in Education and I figured what the heck? Couldn't make things any more chaotic than they already were. Which only goes to show yet again how big of an idiot I really am. Lots of long nights and empty weekends with her at school studying and me doing my best Mr. Mom impersonation while trying not to stroke out due to something one of the kids did. But we made it through, she did all the heavy lifting as usual, and we've got ourselves a Masters Degree holder who still has to cut the crust off the sandwiches. So not too much has changed, other than the level of respect I have for her mental toughness has gone up about 200% over the past 2 years.

To celebrate her parents decided to take us out to the local Ruth Chris steakhouse to celebrate so we jumped in the man van and off we went. Mind you, I'm a cheese dog with chili kind of guy and anyplace I can't wear my Sox cap to makes me immediately leery but after being told this was a "business casual" place only I put on my khakis and button down shirt and jumped into the breech.

2 minutes after sitting down a guy comes in wearing cargo shorts and a hat, which makes me think one of two things; I've been had or Ang just wanted to make sure I still had hair on my head since the only time I take that hat off seemingly is to sleep or....... let's just say the Bandit said it best and leave it at that.

5 minutes in the boys had to pee and we now come to the reason I am posting tonight. We were gone from the table NO MORE than a minute and a half and the following events took place, in real time, just like Jack Bauer experiences, except Jack may have saved the world countless times over but never had to take Trot and Rakes to a public bathroom.

In order, Trot tried to take the lid off the urinal to flush it because it didn't have a handle, Rakes kept saying "There are a bunch of questionable people in this place, Dad. They keep asking you how are you, do you need anything, is this your first time here, do you want a glass of wine? Dad, I'm 9; I can't drink wine" etc...., all the while talking at the top of his lungs in a tiled bathroom while I tried to keep Trot from shattering the urinal lid while I'm trying myself to pee and not get anything on my pants.

Trot then couldn't get the water in the sink to come on (it had a sensor at the bottom) so he's yelling "I need some help over here" while Rakes is yelling at him that "You just need to hold your hands RIGHT THERE". Mind you, he's standing exactly 1 foot away from him, all ending with Trot going bonkers over the paper towels being so soft and wondering why ours at home don't feel that way.

I knew then how Alice felt when she stumbled down that hole into Wonderland.

So you can see I may have been gone from here awhile but not much has changed.

Fatherhood

For anyone who tells you sports don't make a difference in a kids life?

Take a look at that picture.

Last fall was Rakes first year playing soccer on the "Big" field and to say it was an adjustment would be an understatement. Much larger field, more defensive players and bigger players all played into a rough year for Rakes. After being one of the better players on the smaller field he spent a lot of games sitting on the bench.

So it made me extremely proud when his coach told me toward the end of this year that he was so glad our team had four legitimate forwards and Rakes was one of them.

This shot was taken right after he scored his first of three goals this season and I'm not sure who was happier, me or him.

But take a look at that kids face and try and tell me games don't matter.

And just to keep him from getting the big head? This was taken a few seconds later.

"This is our *&^%*&^ City"

You're darn skippy it is.

I'm tired of reading about these two jackasses that for whatever twisted reason decided to set off bombs in a crowd of innocent people, trying to kill or maim as many as they could. I'm glad the one is dead and I'm glad the other one is in custody, although it wouldn't bother me if he was dead too. Maybe that makes me a bad person, but I really don't give a rip.

Per Fred Rogers, just about the nicest person this side of Mother Theresa in the 20th Century.

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping."

These are the people I'm trying to find out more about. The ones who saw the smoke and noise and injured and who ran back TOWARD it, not away. I don't want to read about two cowards who killed innocent people and somehow justified their sick deeds. Whether it's in this life or the next, those two will get what they deserve.

For now, I'm gonna say a prayer for the victims, the survivors, and their families and concentrate on the goodness of humanity.

Because no matter how many times it happens and no matter how many bad guys there are, there will always be more good than bad, and while it may win the battle?

Evil will never win the war.

Stay Strong.

If you're gonna go? Go big.

We took the kids to play Putt-Putt on Saturday and after golfing we went into the arcade for some games. Rakes and Ciera played this car game shown in the picture while Trot watched in dead silence.

Finally, after they were done, he turned around and asked me.....

"Dad. Can I have one of those in MY room?"

One day when he's President I'm gonna remind him of stuff like this so he can appoint me the Ambassador of Fenway Park.

You Never Know What You'll See On Opening Day

At some point today during the Red Sox 8-2 Opening Day win over the Yankees (kudos to Lester, Ells, Pedie and the Flyin' Hawaiian) Trot pulled down his shorts, mooned his sister, and uttered.......

"This is for all the LADIES!"

Unless he's somehow seen "Magic Mike" I have no idea where he came up with this but the fact it came during a victory over the MFY?

It's somehow sort of appropriate.

Not appropriate enough that I won't have to have a serious talk with him about dropping trou in front of his sister.

But close enough.

It's Here.

The long winter of my discontent is over.

Or something like that.

Tomorrow, 1 p.m., the Bronx.

Thank God.

The Birthday Dirt Dog

From the age of, well, birth to..... yesterday, this child has been the human equivalent of a barrel full of monkeys. He rolled down our staircase at around 6 months old, taking 5 years off the end of my life and after catching his breath and convincing his Mom and I he wasn't dead took off crawling again.

At 9 months he had tubes put in his ears, got Mersa at the age of 2, and following 3 1/2 years of merrily urinating in every conceivable place he could find? He contracted Alopecia and had all of his hair fall out while battling a speech impediment.

Despite all this he has constantly amazed me by having a perpetual smile on his face all the time, laughing and running and roaring through life like some pint sized version of John Blutarsky, complete with the eyebrow wiggle. He's never met a stranger, the entire world is his friend and even though he doesn't know it he lives his life by the motto "If you're gonna go, go BIG."

Tomorrow he turns 7 and I honestly can't believe it.

Seems like yesterday he was standing in the van peeing on the garage floor.

Happy Birthday Trot.

I never thought I'd make 7 years.