Be A Dad

Take time to be a Dad today

OOO

What folks have been reading this week at Creative Endeavors:

Home page / Archives  
Don’t You Touch That  
The Big Yawn  
Guitar Hero  
#19089 (untitled)  
Bad News In River City  
Bikinis (The reason men are pigs)  
Heads Or Coins  
Hard Row To Hoe  
Ahhhhhhhhhh-Choo
 

Summertime Weenies

Do good and they will screw you around anyway.

An Ohio man has been arrested and charged with disorderly conduct for mowing the grass in a neglected public park.  The man admitted he continued mowing the foot high grass in the park after park officials asked him to stop, but says that since budget cuts forced the city to scale back mowing operations, the park had become an eyesore.  “I was only trying to save the city some money” lamented the do-gooder now facing charges.

Religious Lip Service

A bad week for Rev. Alberto Cutie, the hunky Miami Beach celebrity priest was recently spotted on a beach smooching it up with a well-rounded, good looking, parishioner.  The Catholic Church however took a rather dim view of this and he was told he had to quit the church.  So with his girlfriend at his side, Alberto announced that he was quitting the church and becoming a Episcopalian, who will let him canoodle all he likes.  Where there is a will … there is a family squabble, no wait, that isn’t right.

Heating Up

global

Beginning to get hot here in the Heartland, summer it seems is in full swing, soon to be, triple digit heat and I suppose numerous news related articles on the heat and melt down of the polar ice caps.  Which adds to the mix because there doesn’t seem to be a lot of anything going on around here lately.  Oklahoma is like that, not a whole lot of anything “going down” is normal procedure or protocol, oh sure, every now and then a report of someone seeing Elvis sneaking into a port-a-potty with suitcase full of cheese burrito’s or something like that, but most of the time it is just quiet.

TOP SECRET

Now the federal government is different, always some “news” about the govt.  Recently they mistakenly posted on the Internet a “highly confidential” 266-page report on the nations nuclear plants, weapons labs, and nuclear-storage sites, with specific locations and details on what can be found there.  Nothing like making it easy for those folks who are not so fond of us, to find what it is they need to put us away.

Find your Happy Place.

Remember all those old wacky episodes of Cheer’s when Frazier Crane would take all the nut jobs up in an airliner and help them with their respective phobias about flying?  And he would admonish them to “Find your happy place, get in your happy place,” turns out there are real issues here.

A man in New York recently began a month long odyssey in which he’ll take up to 12 airline flights per day to conquer is fear of flying.  He will be criss-crossing the country getting off only to switch flights, while following advice to “breathe, shut your eyes, and think tranquil thoughts.”  Takes all kinds to make a world I guess.

One more?  Okay I gnanked this one from True Blue Texan.

To Houston, in fact, where an unaccompanied 8-year-old girl was placed on the wrong Continental Airlines flight by staff. Meaning to go to Charlotte, she instead ended up in Fayetteville. And apparently the only way to fix the problem was to send her back to Houston and then on to Charlotte.

To make matters worse, Continental had a two fer that weekend on losing children. In Boston, a 10-year-old headed from Boston to Cleveland ended up in Newark, NJ. Maybe next time, the parents should write a big tag that gives the destination and flight number and pin it on their kiddo. Maybe this way more “miscommunication” will be avoided.  Read the entire story here.

While we are on the subject of New York?

The FBI just released a new crime statistic and they say that New York “is the lowest of the 25 cities in the country that they checked.”  They ranked New York City at 246 on a list of 261 with cities having more than 100,000 citizens.  Just barely beating out Oakland California, a city that is so dog-gone bad, so crime ridden and miserable that McDonalds is now selling a “Happy To Be Alive Meal.”

Multi-tasking on the run.

This has to be the loser of the week.  Mr. James Coleman of Bristol, U.K., who became a national laughing stock when he cracked his skull on a low lying branch while simultaneously jogging to work and tweeting on this BlackBerry.

“Hurts” Coleman tweeted when he got up off the ground.

“Forget how tall I am.”

Have A Great Weekend, we will see you on Monday.

OOO

“The cartoon courtesy of Center for American Progress” (online)

First and Ten

Late at night, the quiet time of the morning, most of you are still asleep. I am sitting here in my underwear thinking about milkshakes, did you know the average fast food milkshake contains over fifty chemicals? I am somewhat partial to Strawberry myself.

(Now if that doesn’t create a vivid mindset, I don’t know what would?)

As it is no big secret around here that I am not all that big a fan of football, where millions of Americans tune in each week to see some guy lay on the ground with a bone protruding from his body while they perform the wave, I have to find other avenues to amuse myself, such as this. Late night rambling and luke warm, micro waved coffee.

Often I will throw some “Oldies But Goodies” from Time Life Collection (not available in stores, only thru this TV offer), crank up the CD player, make an occasional foray back to the sixties in my mind or a trip to La-La-Land as my shrink used to call it.

As Frazier Crane on Cheer’s used to say …. Find your happy place, are you there? The things I do to stay in contact with my inner self.

Tonight or rather this morning, as I ponder another insane football season, having just barely recovered from a summer of suffering thru the Olympics, my mind drifts back to the fall of some year in the sixties (does it really matter which year?) when I was a student at La Vista Junior High school (Where the leaders of tomorrow are developing the Pimples of today!) on the left coast of America (California).

With all this border-line insanity presently taking place in America what is being substituted for regular fare each day, I feel stressed and I yearn for something different.

Hopeless Romantic? Unbridled Dreamer?

Call me what you may … but life back then in my perspective … was better than it is now. In those days the absolute worst crime that I had committed in my life, was possibly riding two on a bicycle, packing my buddy on the handle bars and getting my very first traffic citation from a cop at the ripe old age of thirteen. Starting my first encounter or a long and close relationship with the law enforcement personnel around the country up and until just recently.

Life was good … Junior High School was a gas.

Not a lot of stress, show up, do the drill, smoke a butt in the bathroom at recess and eat lunch. My biggest contribution to life at that time was shop class, where one year I made an ashtray! Now don’t laugh, these days it is considered a “lost art.” The following year, I made a set of bongo drums to the delight of my mother. The sixties were good to me, perhaps why I don’t remember a lot of stuff to this very day, but that is not what this piece is about.

As a matter of fact, as usual, I don’t have a clue as to what this piece is about.

Not really sure, I believe we are talking about “fun” not my latent dependency on chemical pacifiers in my youth. What did we do for fun in those days? What was life like before computers, video games, Rock N Roll, drugs and cheap sex? Before McDonalds, The Mall, before man landed and stepped on the face of the moon? I do vaguely remember those days, but I do not remember what it is that we did for fun.

Cutting class and sneaking down to the sippy hole and going for a dip in the late afternoon without the benefit of trunks or Speedo’s. Fun was watching television at your girlfriend’s house during a power failure. Forget that soft warm puppy stuff. Pinching a watermelon from Old Man Simon’s watermelon patch on late Saturday night. Sitting around in a parked Chevy at the Dairy Queen entering into deep discussions on why French Fries gave you zits and why Clearasil really doesn’t seem to work when you are sixteen years old.

Fun, believe it or not, is a progressive thing; you learn it as you go.

Now when I was a small lad, I remember I used to pull the ears on my sister’s dog for fun. Back in those days that was okay for a latch key kid to amuse himself. Before all you dog lovers send something to my mailbox, don’t get all riled up that was just a suggestion really, I actually loved the mutt and used to slip him table scraps of liver and bacon, which more than likely lead to his early death due to obesity in or around 1965.

If I was perhaps trying to gross you out, I could have suggested that we used to go down to the creek, catch frogs, bring them back and feed them to Mama’s geese and that was considered fun. But as I am not from Alabama or someplace that has a lot of frogs, so this is not quite believable either.

Not really being all that sure, I believe it some circles it is called literary license or something like that. My mama lived in Hayward, California (in the San Francisco Bay Area) not exactly a prime area known for the raising of geese and other farm animals.

Fun was running around the yard, barefoot in the summertime, catching fireflies and then smashing them on your finger to “make a ring” in the dark. You ever get the distinct impression that most of my childhood was truly violent and was consumed with evil plots and schemes … Yeah, now you are getting the picture.

You see … Little boys are everything that is suggested …. Little Monsters that grow up to be men … Dirty Old Men. Yeahsus! Now let’s get loaded and go shoot some crows!*

That beats sitting around watching football any day.

000

* No actual crows were shot or harmed during the writing of this article, any resemblance to anyone alive or dead who shoots crows for sport is purely coincidental, this post has been edited and shortened to fit into the space provided, any reprint of this article is strictly prohibited by the NFL.

PARTING SHOT: “No one says “It’s only a game when their team is winning.”