Feeling A Bit Nostalgic

So I’m feeling a bit nostalgic.

I loved the job I had in Virginia. I loved its purpose. I loved the people.

There were over 100 employees and I knew them all and they all knew me. From janitorial to the CEO – I was comfortable with them all. And I rocked that fucking job.

But things change as they always do. And, well – my time was up. I needed to move on and I did. I moved to Chicago for the job I held for 18 months before being let go for budget cuts.

And I don’t regret it for a second. I just miss the job, but more importantly—the people.

So – my last day of work they threw me a bash. And some kick-ass folks put together this video documenting some of my stupidity over the past eight years. Some of it’s filled with inside jokes. But in short:

• Yes I met Hal Holbrook and Dixie Carter
• Yes I got to “play” the Easter Bunny on year for a holiday event.
• Yes I met, had a great conversation with, and headed up a major PR event for the great Tony Bennett.
• Yes, I landed us on the front page of the Arts section of the New York Times.
• Yes, I got to learn from the best when it came to marketing and public relations, and later be given the lead in opening a $30 million museum wing—successfully.
• Yes I have a massive head, gap-tooth, and affinity to flash my middle finger at the most inappropriate time.
• Yes, I made some kick-ass amazing friends, colleagues…

And so…a glimpse into a great, significant part of my career and life. I can’t wait to see what lies ahead, and what memories I’ll be making for those future “good luck” videos.

Job Memories from on Vimeo.

New Year's Resolutions 2010

Thanks to everyone who read my ramblings since I started this madness in August. Thanks to everyone who took time to knock out a comment. And…well, just thanks!

My New Year’s Resolutions

1) Get a job.

2) Stop calling the cat “jagoff,” “furry turd monster,” “sack-o-shit,” and “piece of shit” because it’s just got to be hurting his self-esteem.

3) Run a total of 1,000 miles by the end of the year.

4) Promote Pants Optional Friday until it becomes a global phenomenon or until the wifey starts participating—whichever comes first.

5) Find whatever the hell’s living in my garage and murder it.

6) Write the first three chapters of my book and start pounding down publishers’ doors.

7) Perfect my Moon Walk and be the first person to ever Moon Walk every sidewalk in the Village I live in.

8) Video myself burning the wifey’s Snuggie and YouTube the shit outta that thing.

9) Love the wifey and kids twice as hard as I loved them in 2009.

10) Continue our 7-year streak of not getting caught having sex by the kids.

11) Start a support group for people traumatized by being caught masturbating by their mother when they were a teenager.

12) Teach the boy that when he flicks a bugger they don’t just vanish in thin air—they land and turn into little hard, sharp landmines that eventually cut daddy’s foot open days later.

13) Continue to be honest, open, and consistent on whatever this blog thingy is that I’m doing here—cause in some screwed-up way it’s awfully damn therapeutic.

14) Finally take the picture of Robert Degen down from the wall in the living room and acknowledge that my idol really has passed on.

15) Invest myself more in my life than I ever have and stop acting like I’m waiting for something.

A Good Day

So, I had a cheesy moment with my little dude….and I loved it!!!

It’s been snowing like a bitch for the past few days. And since I’m a jobless statistic, I’ve actually enjoyed the snow because I’m not commuting in it.

I wake the kids up saying, “look out the window.”

I shovel it. I slip on it and bust my damn back wide open. I feel manly about it because I can control whether I allow it to rest on my sidewalks or not. And I’m humbled by Mother Nature’s ability to manhandle me despite my repetitive verbal abuse.

Then it hits me….I should totally build one kick-ass snow fort that will be a three month project with the kids.

It’ll melt some. Turn to ice some. Take some bad-ass snowball fighting hits some. But we’ll keep rebuilding, patching, working on it and making sure come spring, it’s still standing during the big-thaw!

And so I did it. And it’s something I should have BEEN doing. But I haven’t.

And, I’m not beating myself up for it. I’m chalking it up to another amazing experience in my time as a stay-at-home jobless-statistic dad.

Then it hits me…I should have been building one kick-ass fort of confidence around myself over the past month. And I should have had a three-month maintenance plan around it. And I haven’t.

I melted some. Took some vicious snowball hits. I cried. I looked in the mirror and walked away in disgust. And at the end of the day, all I'd really done is waste time.

And I wasn’t rebuilding, patching, or working on shit. NOTHING. No-thing.  

Thanks ex-boss, for giving me another amazing moment with my kids I otherwise would have missed.

Thanks ex-boss for making me realize another strength I hold within myself that’s now unleashed.

Thanks ex-boss for stopping my life at what I’ll hold as the most current critical moment in my self-awareness.

Thanks ex-boss…..but don’t get cocky you bastard…

I had an amazing phone call yesterday with a job I have a 99% chance of getting. It’s the best Christmas gift I could have gotten. I felt like I’d dropped 300 lbs. I got a piece of ME back. And, there’s still one more very strong potential job out there that I won’t hear about until January.

Nothing’s in stone and it could all crumble. But for now I feel lucky. Fuck that…I feel overwhelmingly fortunate. Only time will tell how it all plays out.

But yesterday was a good day.

An Open Letter to Santa

Dear Fat Boy:

I’ve been mulling around in my head what to say and/or do to you, my man. I mean…back in the day, when I was a kid, I felt like we were brothers. Like we started some kick-ass fraternity and you were the cool older dude that could grow a beard, pound a beer, and still act all “hey baby…can I help in the kitchen?” when Mrs. Claus rolls on the scene.

Now…well, you’re kind of a little bitch. Last Christmas you gave me socks. Fucking SOCKS! After 146 days of not inhaling, not wearing mirrors on my shoe laces, removing the web cam from the wifey’s dressing area, and even buying her flowers once….I get socks.

And....I’ve taken my kids to see you three times. Two of the three times you got frustrated when I’m all, “hold on – let me get one with my phone for my Twitter peeps!!!” Screw you buddy…people wanna see the boy and girl sitting on your lap. Deal buddy. Actually they don’t. I secretly think they’re just hoping it’s Pink Ducky chillin on those kick-ass red pants of yours.

So listen…can we just start over? You’ve been a prick…I’ve been a bit moody, but underneath it all…I mean, we did at one point kinda have a spark right?

So if we’re cool…here’s what I’d really really love to find under my tree this year… I’m just sayin’…:

1)  I’m gonna need a pause button for the kids. Don’t act like you can’t pull this one off…I’ve seen it on Saved by the Bell…time can be stopped!!! Ask Zack Morris.

2)  Actually this one is more of a warning than a request. Let me catch you putting one…just one Snuggie under a tree and see what happens. I’ll start with Rudolph….think I’m playing? Try me. I’ve been to prison…actually I haven’t, but I watch TV!

3)  Can you bring a dinosaur back to life…just for one day? Damn that would be badass. Come on man…just like have it eat a tree, step on a car, and tear through a building or something cool for me to TwitPic.

4)  Ummm…lean in close on this one, OK? A little closer…(can you please, PLEASE, give the wifey something other than skin colored panties to wear? Dude…come on…you know what I mean…help a brother out…thanks man!)

5)  A job! Please…it’s not much I’m asking for…and you know I love you and didn’t mean to take those pictures of Mrs. Claus and put them on the web. I need work man!!

6)  You remember that whole “water into wine” thing? I mean…this is really supposed to be all about the birth of people’s savor…so ummm…I’ve written this business plan…could you just look it over. That’s it…no strings attached, just check it out and let’s talk.

7)  You know how people obsess over the whiteness of their teeth and how racist that shit really is? Well, I’m right there with you….so screw them…can you just fix this fucking tunnel in-between my two front teeth? Seriously…the older I get the more I whistle when I tell the boy to “stop!”

8)  Seriously…some of the elves haven’t been too pleased with the cutbacks this year….lack of knee pads, cleaning up after deer after “taco night,” stuff like that. Drop a cool “grand” on me and I’ll smooth it all over.

So in conclusion…you’ve been mean to me….but I still love ya, dinosaurs fuckin’ shit up would be awesome, a job, I’ve got the Mrs. on film, and water into wine sounds pretty spectacular right!!!??!

Love,

WhyIsDaddyCrying?

Straddling the Line

It’s been just over a week since I lost my job.

I’ve woken up in the morning, helped get the kids ready for school and out the door. I’ve written blog posts. I’ve cranked-up my obsession with working out to a level to where I’m sure I’ll get injured soon.

I’ve been pissed as shit. I’ve been depressed. I’ve spent my time feeling helpless, letting distractions rule me, and occasionally fed-off bursts of incredible support and energy.

Yeah…right now, I feel like a victim and I’m not scared to say that. But it’s been nine days…and now I straddle that line.

On one side I can continue to slip…turn a blind-eye, wake up months from now with still nothing.

On the other, I can move on, flip my chin to what’s left behind, all while leaving small motivational bits and stories in my wake.

The way my son looks at me after everything he does makes me feel like a rock star. The way my daughter snuggles closer to me in the mornings when I crawl into bed with her to wake her makes my heart break. My family is my motivation. But pride, as a man, is my downfall. And my pride’s just been buried six-feet down and a tombstone reading “you were fired” has been slapped down forever marking my time on this orbiting rock.

But I won’t dwell. I won’t be gotten the best of.

I’ll never forget laying in bed with my wife in college, then after we first moved in, then after we had kids….and a million other times where I’ve said…. “I’m gonna make $1 million before I turn 30.” I’m 34 now.

But with time comes lessons, some learned harder than others. Risks – bring on a whole new meaning. Love – we could all write books about love. Family – it’s what defines you, and later, you find the pen in your hand with a wife and children eagerly looking at you to begin writing their chapters. Jobs – they’re the essential component in the glue holding everything together but it DOES NOT make you the person you are.

The loss of my job does not define me. It’s humbled me. It’s made stop dead. It’s made the musical soundtrack of my life adjust yet one more time. It’s made my vision of life, family, love, profession….change…..again.

When I was a kid I told myself I’d never be like my father. When I was 10, I told my brother the same. When I was a teenager, I told my future wife the same tale. When I was in college I wrote endlessly about it. When my first born entered our lives I journaled this continued promise vowing this transformation would never happen.

My current situation has me closer to being my father than I could have ever imagined I’d experience.

So I’m putting the gloves back on. The mouthpiece is back in. And I just glanced over my shoulder to see if my family showed up for their front row seats. And I can see them all lined up, leaning forward, looking at each other for reassurance, but throwing fake confidence my way. And I’m loving it…cause I’m about to cross back the fuck over and move on..far….far away from that dividing line…and fulfill a promise made long ago….to more than provide…but BE someone.