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Why is Daddy Crying?

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It's All About the Music

Music has always played a huge part of my life.

I’ve always been jealous of people who could just instantaneously look back at life and remember specific moments.

My life has been defined by music. Every moment I store in my memory could not be recalled if it weren’t tied to a specific song. I could go years without hearing one song—then it plays, and I’m eight years old again, in a horrific blue van, with my mother and brother, on my way to swim practice, and I’m watching the world pass by outside, and all I can think about is I hope my dad is there to see me.

And now, one minute, I’ll be laughing with the family in the car, while compulsively hitting the “seek” button on the radio and on comes Aerosmith, “Angel,” and my entire body tingles remembering how that was the wifey and our “song” back in the day.

Or Violent Femmes “Blister in the Sun” will hit and I’ll instantly be 17 and laughing, laying in the wifey’s trampoline out-back of her mom’s house, teaching her the lyrics while chuckling inside knowing it’s a song about masturbation.

I’ll always remember how fucking rad I thought my Uncle was when he gave me Iron Maiden “Piece of Mind” for Christmas one year.

The walls in my room during my high school days were covered in 60s & 70s posters. Janis Joplin, The Beatles, The Who, Cat Stevens, and Bob Dylan.

When I was 11, our family had driven to New York City to be with my father’s family. My cousin, a few years older, handed me his Walkman. I’m pretty sure my ears came at least five times that day as I was introduced to Led Zeppelin for the very first time of my life. That night my god-father died and we drove from New York to South Carolina non-stop, while I listened to Led Zeppelin I, II, III, & IV which my cousin gave me cause he felt bad we were on our way to bury my mother’s brother.

The very first CD I owned was the double album Led Zeppelin “Song Remains the Same Live.” John Bonham will always, in my mind, go down in history as the best drummer ever.

The introduction of Led Zeppelin was an incredible breakthrough musically for me. One I’ll never forget. And, the only thing comparable, was in 1992. I’ll never forget, sitting at the kitchen table alone, watching MTV (back when they fucking played music) and Pearl Jam “Alive” came on. The spoon fell from my hand. I was mesmerized. I later said to my good friend at the time “it’s the sound I’ve been dying to hear!” I wrote “Pearl Jam Ten” on a sheet of paper after watching the video, and owned the cassette by the end of the day.

Pearl Jam is Pearl Jam these days, but for me…it knocked down the wall to my musical boundaries and I never looked back. I even grew my hair out to live the part!

I obsess over lyrics. I can hear the drum line of every song and see it like Rain Man counting tooth picks. I remember:

The girl I dreamt about in middle school finally noticed me and we started dating. And Phil Collins “Groovy Kind of Love” was our song.

I got laid off from my job and I blared Rage Against the Machine “Wake Up” on my headphones and walked a straight line down the Chicago sidewalk daring anyone to bump my arm, look at me wrong, or even smile.

On the way home to grab some stuff from our house after our son was born, I’ll never forget playing John Lennon “Beautiful Boy,” despite the fact I blame Yoko for everything evil on this planet.

The Beatles “Don’t Let Me Down”Cold War Kids “We Used To Vacation”Iron & Wine “Trapeze Swinger”Dave Matthews Band “Say Goodbye”Bare Naked Ladies “Blame It On Me”Train “Drops of Jupiter”Temple of the Dog “Hunger Strike”Van Morrison “And It Stoned Me” (which this link is to the Great Jerry Garcia, because I could find a damn original Van Morrison version and who better to cover than Jerry!)

I could do this for hours.

I play music as much as I can for the kids. I name the bands. I try to explain the lyrics. I pound out the drum line on my steering wheel, knee, couch….in the hopes they get an understanding. I play my guitar, I long to own a piano again, and the boy and I are nagging the wifey to let us own a drum kit.

For me – the easiest answer to, “so tell me about yourself,” will always be to hand that person a CD and slowly walk out.


A Day With Pink Ducky Part Deux

A month ago, almost to the day, I pulled a good little plastic dude from the depths of depression and showed him one hell of a good day. Yep, Pink Ducky.

He was stuck in a real bad routine of sitting in a rotting, moldy bath-tub bag, alone, cold, depressed. So I showed him a good time!

Well, after posting pictures from his day on Twitter and this blog, Pink Ducky became a star. He got an endorsement deal from Jared Galleria of Expensive-Ass Jewelry and got paid!

I kinda lost track of the little guy cause he was so damn busy. Then, on Saturday I woke-up to the smell of waffles wafting through the air. Everyone in the house was asleep, so the first thing that came to mind was, “Oh shit, someone broke in my house to make waffles!” Thinking of family first, I grabbed a bat and walked downstairs holding the wifey in front of me for protection. And much to my glee I found Pink Ducky!!!

“You’ve been in a slump,

And feeling like a chump,

So I’m crankin’ out some waffles and here to say,

Today is gonna be YOU’RE day!!”

“Why the hell are you talking in rhyme’s Pink Ducky,” I asked?

“It’s kind of a long story,

But if you really wanna know the whole thing will be on Maury.”

“You were interviewed on the Maury Povich Show? Damn Pink Ducky, you’re a rock star!”

Anyway, the conversation continued…. But the bottom line was, the little bastard wanted to lift my spirits and enjoy a day together. So…we caught the first train to the city.

Then, he brought me to the Sears Tower.

Once we got up top he said, “Everything you see here can be yours if you try,

Damn..this is getting scary…we’re up pretty freakin’ high.”

After telling Pink Ducky the rhyming stuff was getting pretty damn old, we headed out for some grub at Ada’s Restaurant.

Then, we went to the Marshall Fields building (Macy’s) and wrote letters to Santa.

Not five damn minutes after Pink Ducky wrote his letter, Santa freakin’ delivered. That’s the luckiest Pink Ducky I’ve ever seen in my life.

Then, after dodging falling ice, having to deal with Pink Ducky having an “accident” cause the bathroom was broken, and buying him a pair of Crocs – the #2 ranked article of clothing on the list of things I can’t stand….#1 of course being the Snuggie – he decided he knew what my problem was.

“You know what’s wrong with you baby?

You’ve got to learn how to get down and sexified with your lady”

So we pounded a shitty PBR and headed home.

Then he whipped-out the guitar and showed me the art of serenading.

Took me on a tour of my wifey’s naughty drawer.

And showed me how a glass of red wine always helps get thing started.

But none of it helped. Pink Ducky failed. I tried to break it easy to him that I was still pretty depressed but he kept getting calls on his cell phone and said he had to run off to “a thing.”

In the end – it was kinda cool hanging out with the little fella again. And I do miss him. And I can’t freakin’ wait for the Maury show so I can find out why the hell he talks in rhymes.


A Day as a 7-Year-Old

I always wonder what it would be like to live my day to day life like I was 7. Wouldn’t it be just badass?

I’d climb on the train with my SpongeBob backpack and lucky pencil, wide-eyed and ready for the day. I’d sit in my train seat looking around and bouncing in my seat.

I’m on a train!! Everybody look at me I'm on a crazy fast train!” I’d yell randomly.

“Excuse me sir – I need to see your ticket,’ the conductor would say.

“Umm…my daddy has it,” I’d say while still bouncing in my seat and looking out the window.

“Sir, it’s 7 in the morning and I don’t get paid worth a shit. Just show me the ticket.”

“ said a naughty word. I’m gonna tell!!”

“You know what…you’re an asshole.” He’d say as he walked away.

“Oooohhh oooohhh you did it again,” I’d say as I raised my hand hoping the teacher would call on me.


Getting into work I’d settle in by trying to figure out the computer for a while. After failing miserably at that I’d go raid the office supplies for pencils, pens, markers, and paper.

“Hey..uh…you’re…you’re drawing a picture of you and a cat,” my boss would say after walking in my office and seeing me laying on my stomach on the floor drawing.

“Yeah, and his name’s Jasper and I’m standing next to him, and he’s my favorite, and I’m going to write my name and his name on it, and I’m going to give it to him.”

“Seriously…what’s going on?”

“Nothing, we’re just standing together in the picture. Why? Should I draw me petting him?”

“No, what the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you laying on the floor coloring instead of working?”

“Oooohhhh you said a bad word! I’m gonna tell?”

“Are you serious? You’re gonna…you’re gonna tell? Who are you gonna tell? Get off the floor and get back to work…..Jesus…who the hell lays on the floor and colors at work? What is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Well…I’m kinda upset. I just walked in and found my employee laying on the ground coloring. Is everything OK or do we need to have a talk?”

“I don’t know, do we need to have a talk?”

“I’m asking you that.”

“Knock knock”

“Knock knock silly.”

“Did you just call me ‘silly?’”

“Come on…knock knock.”

“Holy shit…fine!! Who’s there?”


“You’re making my head hurt. I can’t believe I’m…”


“Fuck..Easter Who?”

“The Easter Bunny!” I’d yell as I rolled in the floor laughing at my awesomeness.

“I swear to God I’m about to kick the shit out of you.”

“Why would you kick me…that’s just mean.”

“Get the hell out of my office…NOW!!!!”

Standing up and grabbing my picture I drew for Jasper, I’d say, “FINE!! I hate you!!” and I go stomping out….


Aahhh what a life it’d be. The shear ignorance to the rules, regulations, discipline, responsibilities, and awkwardness of day-to-day life. I wouldn’t mind a week of that.


Q & A With "Why Is Daddy Crying?"

@MotherhoodFilm asks: What do you think of women who use the word "like" in a sentence repeatedly?

I was hoping you’d stop the question right after the word “woman.” Well, like, I totally think women who like say “like” all the time, or like totally not women at all….but girls. It like reminds me of last week when I like totally sat behind these two college girls who like OMG, drove me fucking nuts. And, I totally didn’t have my like, iPod. I was sooo, just….like OMG, OMG, OMG. I finally went and like slammed my head in a door for the rest of the train ride. Like…

@TrishB asks: How did you meet your wife, how did you know she was the one & how did you propose?

Jesus TrishB…get all up in my business why don’t you…. Seriously, we’re high school sweethearts. We met our junior year – she was the new girl in school – all the other girls wanted me dead or were tired of my stupid shit. She came walking into class wearing these white, tight jeans. Her ass mesmerized me and it was love at first…I knew she was the one. I proposed one day by walking in from work, flipping a ring at her and saying, “Let’s do this shit!!” Seriously – I spent months putting money down on a ring while we were in college. I finally put enough down to where the guy was willing to let me have it. I drove 6 hours to see her at her college, proposed, and she broke up with me. Aaahhh those were the days.

@ryanashleyscott asks: Do you enjoy playing cars w/ the kids? I gotta say, I really don't - but I'm thinking it's because I'm mom, not dad.

I enjoy playing cars with the boy for about 5 minutes. From that point on it’s a struggle. But I’m pretty much that way with everything….golf, sex, work, doing backflips, staring into my neighbor’s windows, streaking town hall meetings, painting random kids along the side of the road blue as they walk home from school….

@MamaBennie asks: How are you so fucking awesome?!?!?

By “so fucking awesome” I’m gonna take a stab that you really mean “such a fuck-stick.” For years people have pondered that question. My dad was the most vocal – “Jesus Christ…how are you even able to stand on two legs you fuck-stick?” My brother just beat me with sticks…and occasionally shot at my feet with a pellet gun. I hear my wife praying sometimes when she thinks I’m asleep – “dear lord…make this fuck-stick disappear. Honestly…I didn’t know what I was getting into and you’re all about forgiveness and stuff…so whatta say fella?!! Wanna give a girl her dream to start fresh?!”

Sorry I couldn’t answer it…’s just one of those unanswerable things….

@4uandme asks: Why is daddy cryin'?

Because fucking Twitter has a restriction on how many letters can be in your name. I wanted to have the “g” on the end, but nnnoooooo…can’t do that can we TWITTER?!!

@hotmom_of3 asks: What are you going to be for Halloween?

BJ Brittany from Twitter

@GratefulKim asks: U work, U cook, U help with the kids, UR funny, U love & honor your wife, U write...what is your advice for men?

Well GratefulKim…I’d like to thank you for helping me shoot to the top of the Dude Hit List. Why would you blow my cover like that woman?! Now all the husbands are gonna try and put a cap in my ass. My advice dudes….don’t do shit around the house. I don’t do jack around the house…I make the woman do it. That’s why I got married, so I could sit around and….hold on, what honey……no…no, I was just….yes dear..I mean ma’am…yes ma’am.

I gotta go.

@GratefulKim asks: What is the meaning of life?

Didn’t you just ask a question? You’re that kid in the backseat during carpool who can’t just chill…you gotta know EVERYTHING. Are we there yet? Why is the sky blue? Why does mommy need the mailman to go upstairs just to pay him for the mail?

The meaning of life is good beer, good laughs, good friends, and experiencing true love.

@GratefulKim asks: Boxers or briefs?

Jesus, you ARE that kid. You’re as bad as I am with the questions… Do people go running screaming from you sometimes?

I go commando GratefulKim. I let the boys breathe whenever I can. But during the winter – it’s boxer-briefs. Actually...I lied. I wear boxer-briefs all the time. I even blogged about it once. Except on Pants Optional Fridays…then…well…ya know.

@GratefulKim asks: What is the best surprise your wife could give you that doesn't involve sex or groping?

Holy shit GratefulKim…..all right. Let’s make a deal. I’ll keep answering your questions if you promise to buy me a beer for every question I answer? Deal lady?!

I’m not sure I understand how something can be called a “surprise” if it doesn’t involve sex or groping. I mean…sex and groping is….well when it happens it’s a huge surprise. I guess outside of that I’d have to say that I want an official Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle…without her telling me I’ll shoot my eye out.

@grnladybug asks: Do you believe in extraterrestrial life out there and if so, are they cooler or crazier than we are.

I used to scoff at the thought of extraterrestrial life forms. Then…Sarah Palin came on the scene and since then, I’ve seriously changed my mind.

@Jabulani9 asks: OK, Daddy, why were you cuddling mummy like that last night? You don't cuddle me that way.

Seriously…are you on crack? Did your parents drop you as a kid? There’s no cuddling going on in the WhyIsDaddyCrying estate.

@barbaragaines asks: What are Santa eyedrops?

You mean the eyedrops my daughter says Santa’s gonna bring her for her pink eye? Click here to see.

@allconsoffun asks: What's the best advice/worst advice you parents ever gave you? Please support your answers in a 25 word minimum essay style format.

Best: “Hey boy…come here and listen close cause I’m only gonna say it once… Don’t ever piss on an electric fence.

Support: Pulling your pecker out and using it where everyone can see is not smart. Keep that guy to yourself and whoever you’re with …and use it wisely. You’ll live longer and happier if you do.

Worst: “Hey boy….come here and listen close cause I’m only gonna say it once….drink the milk in the pink container…it’s strawberry milk.

Support: Even though the container was pink, it was just regular milk inside. Making personal decisions based on the exterior look of things is the most ignorant way to live your life. Read the carton, open it, sniff it, taste it, get to know it…then make your decision.

@crazysahm asks: Would you accept the Snuggie if it came with two options: 1) spots for beer cans and 2) BJ Britney.

Ab-so-fucking-lootly. But then afterwards I’d burn it.

@sassygael asks: Why aren't kids freaked by Yo Gabba Gabba like adults are?

I’m personally insulted by this question. I happen to watch Yo Gabba Gabba while stoned, at least 5 or 6 times a day. I have learned so much from that show that it’s ridiculous. “Freaked out?” About what? From learning awesome things like that you shouldn’t bite your friends? Or that there’s a party in your tummy? That freaks you out? You know what – you freak me out?

I’m sorry about that…that was mean… You wanna go smoke and watch Yo Gabba Gabba with me?

@drlori71 asks: What do you think is the most annoying kids show on TV?

Holy shit that’s easy. Caillou. Holy mother of all things that make me want to rip my ears off, shove them up my own ass, throw myself through a glass window, and run into oncoming traffic….I hate, hate, hate that show. His voice makes me…well…it makes me want to do everything I just said. I want nothing but misery for everyone of those characters on that show. I hope they all become crack addicts and featured on Intervention.