Another first

Today, I traded in my 12-year-old minivan for a 2010 Kia Soul.  Although my ex-wife and I picked out cars several times while we were married, I always felt like she bought it and I just drove it.  So qualifying for a loan and actually picking out the car was a huge experience for me. 

I'm so goddam anal-retentive, I spent the better part of a year test-driving and researching almost every different car within the $10K-$15K price range.  Then I researched insurance rates.  Then I researched lenders. By the time I was done, I was having long conversations with myself that boiled down to "Dude, enough.  Get a friggin' car already."

I'm happy enough with my new car, but I do have to say that driving away and leaving my old purple van in on the car lot felt a little bit like putting down the old family dog.  I almost cried, thinking about all the trips we'd taken in it, and how it was almost like a part of the family.  My daughter had called it "the bigcar" when she was little, and we'd even had vanity plates that said "D BIGCAR."  But life goes on, I guess.

I told my coworker what I was buying and he said "So you're gonna get with this?"  At first I thought he was just being an idiot, but then he asked if I'd seen the commercials. I responded that I don't, technically, watch TV so I didn't know what the hell he was talking about.  Finally, he made me Google the Kia Soul hamster commercial.



This is my ride.  Minus the gangsta hamsters.

 So I'll probably do as my brother Joker says and let my hair down, drop the windows, and blast "Party Rock Anthem" from my new blinky speakers.  I'ma get with this.

Moving too fast

This past weekend, I let my 14-year-old daughter drive my van.  Now, before you go calling me crazy and irresponsible for letting someone that young behind the wheel, just keep in mind that we were driving in a big empty parking lot and I let her drive BEFORE I made her drink all those tequila shots.

It would be a funnier story if she somehow managed to drive the van into a ditch or ran over a pedestrian, but she did very well and paid careful attention to my instructions ("No! No! Your OTHER left!  AIIIEEEEEE!!") and we both survived her first drive with no visible scarring.

But it made me sad.  It was just yesterday we were building pillow forts on the bed and playing Pretty Pretty Princess (at which, for the record, I totally kick ass) and now I'm teaching her to drive.  I'm not ready for her to be behind the wheel of a car, just like I wasn't ready for her to take the training wheels off her bike, pick out her own clothes or stop calling me 'Daddy.'

Seems to me a large part of parenthood is spent trying to catch up to your kid, and you never get to really know them since they grow too fast.  Just when you get used to the idea of them walking on their own, they're riding a bike.  Just when you get used to that, they're going to a school dance.  Just when you get used to that, they're a hardened criminal, etc., etc.

The best I can hope for is that someday, she'll stop running and growing and maturing long enough for me to catch my breath and let me say, "So THIS is who you are. THIS is the person you're going to be.  THIS is how you're going out into that big bad world." 

Then I'll tell her to go change her damn clothes because she looks like a bum.  And to clean her room while she's at it.

Weird Poetry of Craigslist Personals

I noticed something strange and kinda cool while looking at the Craigslist "Missed Connections" section one day.  This section is a forum for people to write the things they were unable to say to complete strangers who crossed their path.  Most of the posts are amorous comments and wistful requests for people who have "missed that connection" with another person at the drive-through window, the park, the library, grocery store or even in traffic.

There's an odd sort of whimsical poetry to these posts.  Although some are creepy or reek of desperation and loneliness, most are the flutterings of attraction that accompany our interactions with random people every day.

I think I enjoy reading them because it validates my romantic nature.  The bashful proclamation of love (or lust), the wistful hope that someone will return your affection, the rueful lamentation of a missed opportunity ... these are all elements that combine these "Missed Connections" posts to read as a short, poignant tribute to romance and its delicate gilding of fate.

Driving in California is fun! (If you don't live there)



Broseph, Mom, Me and the Jubs hamming it up, Cali-style



During the last week of August, I took my daughter with me to California to visit my mother, whom neither of us had seen for 12 years.  We coordinated a surprise visit with my brother (whom we hadn't seen in about 8 years).  He drove 12 hours from Salt Lake City so we wouldn't have to rent a car.

Then we ended up renting a car because his supercharged turbo thingie wouldn't run very well at sea-level.  Luckily, he rented a Mazda 6 sedan.  I like the styling of the Mazdas so, with the exception of the first day, I drove his rented Mazda for the rest of our trip.

I mention this because, at some point, I allowed my inner douchebag to take control of the wheel while we were on the 405 and, let me tell you, the experience of totally not giving a f*ck was exhilarating.  There was one point where I had to cut through 4 lanes of traffic to make an exit because someone, and I won't mention names but this would be my brother, couldn't properly follow the goddam blue dot on his iPhone GPS.  I took the two-lane exit doing about 65 mph which, in my opinion, is the speed reserved for parking lots in LA, and had to do a little tricky maneuvering to zip by the dimwits who were driving the suggested speed limit of 35 mph.

I didn't think it was any big deal until I looked over and saw:

1) My brother, who races tuner cars and muscle cars and has bragged about driving his goddam MOTORCYCLE at speeds in excess of 100 mph, was wearing a this-shit-ain't-funny-no-more look on his face,

2) My daughter was genuflecting and trying to recite some half-assed rosary although she's, technically, not Catholic and

3) My mother was chanting "F*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck..."

This is basically what I was driving, except ours was black.
And had waves of sheer awesomeness shooting out the driver's window.

I guess it never seems as bad for the driver as it does for the passenger.  Which is why I was driving in the first place.

Needless to say, we all made it home in one piece, and spent the rest of our time eating, frolicking on the beach, playing pool, eating, driving in Beverly Hills, visiting Griffith Observatory, eating, and spending quality time together as a family.  We also did a lot of eating. 

Looking forward to another California trip so I can have an excuse to drive like a total dick and not have to worry about cutting off some soccer mom I work with.  Oh, and visiting the fam would be nice, too.

Did I just eat all that?!

I purposefully ruined my appetite when I got home from the gym.  Started with some canned fruit, then moved on to Triscuits garnished with my own homemade guacamole (yum!) and pico de gallo (too much lime!).  I washed it all down with some iced tea/lemonade drink.  Then I finished off a bag of Munchies and ate some olives.  A little later, I ate chocolate cake, which tasted a little salty from my tears of shame.

I'm a troll

I auditioned for a part in the play "The Surprising Story of the Three Little Pigs," and was offered the part of the troll.  While I am happy I was offered a role, I have to admit I'm a little disappointed since I read for a couple of other, larger parts, but I suppose this is better than nothing.

For those of you who don't know, go here to read a little info about the play:
http://www.dramaticpublishing.com/p1820/The-Surprising-Story-of-the-Three-Little-Pigs/product_info.html

It's a cute little play, performed by one of the community theater troupes in Lansing, so I think that will be a fun way to spend my evenings ... pretending to be a troll.  It's a hell of a lot better than picking lint out of my navel and debating whether or not to use a spoon to get the rest of the ice cream out of the container.

So ... break a leg, me!

Second time around

Well, here I am again.  It's been almost five years since I posted a gleeful recount of my brief time driving a musclecar, and things have changed a lot.

I got a divorce and gave up living in a $300K house on a lake with a boat, three cars and financial freedom so I could move into a little one-bedroom apartment furnished with a bed that my ex "loaned" me, an office chair I bought on sale and a hand-me-down dresser my girlfriend gave me. All my wordly possessions could be stuffed into my 12-year-old minivan.

But I'm on my own, which is what I've needed to be for a long time. This is the first time I've lived alone in my entire life.  I've always lived with, and been responsible to or for, other people.  Whether it was a parent, roommate or spouse, I always had to answer to someone else about the choices I made with my life.

I skipped that part where, by spending time alone, I learned who I was, where I wanted to go, what I wanted to be.  I know it seems that I'm romanticizing solitude, but I am realistic enough to know that I won't always be having wild hot-tub parties with the beautiful swimsuit models that live next door.  Mainly because my next-door neighbor is some Guatemalan dude named Carlos who speaks three words of English ("English no good") and usually looks at me like I've got a parrot growing out of my forehead.

I know there will be lonely nights and boredom.  I know there will be times when I struggle to pay bills, or feel like I'm stagnating.  But the difference this time is that it's on me, and me alone, to decide where to go from here.  I always relied too much on other people to give me direction, and I wound up being unhappy with myself.  Now it's my turn.

I have plans to audition for a play.  I'm going to look into MMA training.  I'm going to dust off my guitars and maybe even start writing again.  This is a new chapter for me, so let's see what happens this time around.  Wish me luck :-)