King Among Dads

Empowering a Junior High Girl

After 12 easy years, it’s time to get my gun out. The enemy? Teenage punks –errrr– boys.

Like many parents, I have the luxury of raising kids of both genders. While they each come with their own challenges, I will say that I’m much more apprehensive as a dad when it comes to my daughter. With my son, it seems to be more about reliving some of my own experiences and hoping he doesn’t make the same mistakes or rises above some of the challenges I had more easily. But with my daughter, it’s more about keeping her safe from an ugly world and giving her as much guidance about her biggest enemy…boys.

But luckily, jr. high school isn’t all about boys. It’s also all about status and friendships too. And my favorite time is when all of these things collide. I was hoping I’d get one more year of sweet innocence, but no such luck. Now, my daughter happens to be very diplomatic. This was a likely by-product of being a child of divorce and not wanting to rock any boats (She is also the queen of prefacing a request for something she wants with an introduction that assures a probable “yes” from me). So, with this skill, I tend to trust that she can handle certain situations on her own. Still, jr. high can be a jungle and so I’ve spent a lot of time with both of my kids talking about personalities, setting standards, and knowing that most things are temporary.

A little throwback to a time where there was less drama...only because there was no Facebook or cell phones.

Despite all this, I want to micromanage. It’s in my nature. Any life event is a “teaching moment” and my kids can attest to lectures or anecdotes that probably go on for too long (anything over 10 seconds). But I’m very proactive here. I like to start conversations about things that are going on and things I hear about from either their mom or their sibling. I try to impart as much wisdom as I can knowing that most of it will not sink in. And then I sit and hope that they get through their teenage years without too much drama.

So far, she’s had little girl drama to deal with and, after a couple of instances, she’s understanding a lot about taking the high road and also choosing to invest her time with people who are uplifting versus mean girls. In fact, as her brother attempted to tell me about another drama girl incident his sister had to deal with, she protested. I supported her protest and told her, “I trust you to be able to handle this the best way…I’m here if you want to talk about it, but I know you will make good decisions because you always do.” Yes, I wanted to know what the drama was. And yes I wanted to micromanage it. But, I knew this type of problem was not going to be the last and she needs to feel confident in trusting her own instincts, which are quite good. It’s been a month and I still don’t know the story.

But then it happened.

A boy. A boy who is “funny.” A product of a divorced set of parents who failed to teach him certain things about respect, honesty and etiquette. A boy who chose one girl over another but continued to text flirty and dirty things to the unchosen girl much to the shock and dismay of his mother who chose to parent him by living four hours away while insisting he “would never say such things.” Okay. The texts from his phone weren’t from him. You say a friend of his must have texted them? You say you’ll get to the bottom of this and then call me back? (she never called back)

Some may think this age is too soon for boyfriends, but since being “in a relationship” consists of hanging out at school, not holding hands (or worse) and the occasional group of friends movie, I felt it was worth the life experience. What I didn’t expect was the type of experience that’s usually reserved for adults.

No, the texting isn’t the reason I’m an angry dad. But the break-up and emotional manipulation at the end is. I get that a 13 year old boy doesn’t have the sack (figuratively and literally) to have a face-to-face conversation and instead resorts to texting a break-up. I get that he had to play the ignore game for an entire group date. But what I don’t get is the pathological lie. Really? Cancer? It’s not enough that you understandably want to move on, but you have to lie about having cancer? Idiot. Yes, 13-year-old idiot punk.

My daughter, who would have handled the “break-up” fine was upset all weekend because she thought her “friend” had cancer. A quick call to the distant mother by my ex to offer sincere sympathy was met with the truth. No cancer. Just a lying punk. His punishment? I’m sure her “sweet little boy” got a soft singsongy “that was wrong” two-second lecture.

How did my daughter handle it? She confronted him the next day (she’s good at confronting people) and said, “you owe me an apology” to which he replied, “for what?” Her response? “You know.” And she turned and walked away. The punk couldn’t even apologize.

Yeah. I don't need her growing up to become one of these girls.

I guess I owe him thanks. She learned a very real lesson about people and character. We talked about standards to set for people and not settling. I reminded her that she could give him grace for being an idiot but that she didn’t have to put herself in a position to be lied to by him again. Like I said, she’s pretty good at figuring this stuff out. She’s even better at taking the high road. And my job is to make sure she’s encouraged to trust in herself even though I’d like to take some type of revenge for her.

But then again, that’s what older brothers are for.

Beauty is in the Ear of the Beholder…

So, I attended what I expect to be the first of many all day reality show auditions this past Sunday. What could I say to my 12-year old when she completed an online application for America’s Got Talent on her own and only texted me to ask if she could use my info as the authorization-giving parent?

To be honest, I dreaded the all day line thing waiting around with a bunch of Star Wars cantina denizens seeking 15 minutes of fame. But as the day approached, I took the opportunity to prepare my daughter in the best way I know how…outfit planning and purchase and song selection. Actually, one of my favorite things to do with my daughter is to take her clothes shopping where we talk about styles, what she “needs” and what does or doesn’t look good.

So, two weeks ago, we arrived at our standard Wet Seal at the Irvine Spectrum where most of the sales girls know us the only daddy-daughter duo to engage in this type of activity to the extent that we do. After a very short search, we found 4 tops that might do the trick, so I did what any dad would do . . . I made her go through the mental exercise of weighing the prices, the 2-for-1 deal and then deciding which two to keep . . . then bought all 4 of them anyway (the prices and deals were so good, it was no issue . . . I just wanted to see if she would exercise self-control and she did).

Then came the search for the perfect belt with “pop.” This was an arduous task with many internet searches and store walk-bys to no avail. With one day to go, I decided to ask my friend who not only had the perfect belt, but also the perfect bangles, ring, necklace and glitter dust applicator. The night before, my daughter settled on the best top to go with her black jeans and boots and tried everything on. We were good to go and it was time to hit the sack since we had to be up at 5 a.m. with the line starting at 6 a.m. (even though the doors opened at 8 a.m., I wanted the best chance to avoid an all-day affair).

We ended up being about 60th in line and I will go ahead and kill the suspense that we were out of there by 10:30 a.m. This wasn’t as crazy as American Idol looks on t.v., but it was clear that the people who arrived later were in for a much longer day.

Anyway, there was plenty of time to meet people around us and my daughter quickly made friends with two other girls and they compared notes: “what are you singing?” “do you have a second song?” “did you see that weird guy on the show last season?” Meanwhile we parents talked about the sacrifices we make and I learned that my 5 hours of sleep stood up to other parents who came in from further away. It eventually turned into a singles group where these parents were sharing details of their exes and I thought to myself, “would it be rude if I just put my Beats headphones on at this point?” I didn’t and shared a few of my own tales. Then, of all things random, No. 63 (Aubrey was No. 62) was the daughter of an old colleague of mine from the Psych hospital days. It had been 20 years since we hung out in the Occupational Therapy room with a bunch of teens, and while we managed to be FB friends, it had still been 20 years. So we caught up (yes, we talked about our exes).

Now the tricky part here is that everyone loves their child, supports them with this kind of sacrifice and wants to believe they have what it takes. Fortunately, the handful of “friends” we made all had some degree of talent. Not so fortunately, many others around us did not.

And we had the whole rainbow of people:

• -the 6’2″ transgender black guy dressed in a Katy Perry blue wig and Katy Perry-esque heels, and a dress of course. He became friends with the 3 girls for a brief stint in the hall and they were rooting for him/her to do well;
• -the nerdy white kid in a black T and red pants who decided that emulating Michael Jackson while he sang was t.v. worthy;
• -the introverted teen who sang half his song in spanish, which was unique enough -I thought- to get him a call back until he switched to English and he clearly lacked skills;
• -the “something’s just not right about her” mom with the 7 year-old who sang the fastest version of  Wicked’s “Popular” that I’ve ever heard. Her mom was actually the spectacle. There’s always one and, well, she was in our sub-group of 10 while we waited for the previous group to finish with the lone producer. She tried to get everyone to do their song for her (so she could gauge the competition), but she did it in a faux-encouraging way. And she had a comment for everything, even when the producer’s instructions were crystal clear.  Her daughter will be great in musicals some day, but  nothing she did warranted the stream of tears from mom or the phone call after to, presumably, dad saying “she nailed it,” when she clearly did not.
• -the 60-something year old man with minimal patience but a heart for performing. He wasn’t in our group but the 48 year old Harley-riding-looking dude with the big lungs was and as he belted out his song following 3 tiny 12-year old tweens, I couldn’t help but laugh at the contrast . . . or the way he was almost a good singer but for being completely a half-step off key the entire Ray Charles song I’d never heard of before (and without any gravelly voice).

Anyway, there was a nice mix of talent and spectacles. Just like you’d see in the audition portion of American Idol but reduced by what seemed to be about two-thirds. And now that I’d been through it, it occurred to me that I could have signed up alongside my daughter and we could have sung one after the other, or possibly as a duo (think Billy Ray and Miley . . . yes, I’d wear a mullet!).

But here’s the funny thing I took from this whole experience. If you could see the hope and desire and energy of these people, even the people who stunk, you couldn’t help but root for each and every one of them. I mean, my daughter is talented and I viewed this as a dry run for American Idol in 3 years. She is not perfect, but she is very good and she has the gift. So did 3 other girls in our small group of 10. Many of the others didn’t.  And it’s only by the sheer unconditional love of their parents that they are there, wasting their precious time for an experience that many were ill-prepared for (trust me on this as I checked out outfits, make-up, and camera presence like a good competitive father would do). And while the beauty of their tone was only in the ears of their unconditionally loving parent, God bless them for being out there.

We ended the day with a nice pancake, eggs, bacon and buttermilk spice muffin breakfast courtesy of Mimi’s Cafe off 17th and the 55. And I loved the opportunity to have one on one time planned by my daughter with the Mimi’s de-briefing session. It’s a day we will always remember.

And I really hope the mime-costumed dancer duo gets a call back . . .because that was true reality tv talent. And I’m not being sarcastic.

Happy unconditional loving,

Bill

It’s a Wonderful Life…to Die Hard

All it took after Thanksgiving was a little Pandora.com and I was put in the Christmas spirit. That and a text reminding me that I bought a Christmas tree to support the JSerra baseball team and that it was being delivered on Saturday. That and a “bored” daughter who didn’t know the meaning of the word “relax” until the house and tree were decorated and the snow village unpacked and put in place after a quick trip to Michael’s and Target for some supplies and new lights.

That and an accidental flip past the Ion channel to watch the opening of one of the best cop duo movies of all time where Sgt. Riggs counts out $100 to buy “a hundred” worth of white powder at a Christmas tree lot (“shut up, man, I’m trying to count”). And then it hit me. “My son should be watching this with me.” And then it hit me again. “Wait, there are a ton of Christmas movies he should be watching with me.” He’s always asking why older movies are better than newer ones (he asks the same thing about rock music, bless his soul). [Side Note: yes, I have a daughter and, yes, I talk about my son more. But in this case, I don't feel like listing all the cute movies my kids should watch because they already watch them. No, I'm talking about classic guy films.].

And with that, I give you, the Top Something Movies Every Dad Should Make Sure His Son Watches, in no particular order:

• No. 1 – Lethal Weapon. It barely has anything to do with Christmas except the opening and then end where Christmas trees are present, but that crazy Riggs and his uncanny aim is the perfect lead-in to other Christmas movies.
• No. 2 – Die Hard. Same thing. There’s a Christmas party that puts people in the building where John McClain picks off common thieves one by one all whilst dropping witty repartee that only Bruce Willis can deliver. “See son, there’s always time for a good joke…especially before you blow somebody away.” Ending the movie with Jingle Bell Rock is the perfect way to capture the Xmas spirit. Die Hard 2 is a perfect sequel and also makes the list.

With a poster caption like that, how can you not get excited?!

• No. 3 – A Christmas Story. It plays all weekend soon on either TNT or TBS. Admittedly, I didn’t watch this movie until about 15 years after it originally came out (My record for first watch after original release might be Close Encounters at 20+ years). It’s the perfect movie to repeatedly butt in and say, “see, son, this is what childhood used to be like. You kids are spoiled.” Classic humor in all forms. Fa ra ra ra ra ra ra ra ra.
• No. 4 – Christmas Vacation. Two words: Cousin Eddie.

It's worth it just to hear Clarence's squeaky voice as he teaches George Bailey the value of life.

• No. 5 – It’s A Wonderful Life. Perfect lesson about looking at all the good things in life and appreciating even how the bad things accentuate the good. And he won’t even know it’s the Campbell’s soup pitchman. Caveat: You pretty much have to wait until he hits high school. Disguised Remake: Family Man starring “that guy who’s in everything.” (No not Gene Hackman in the 90s…but Nicolas Cage). But you can’t beat an angel trying to earn his wings. (It’s okay to start off at the part where everything falls apart since the first half moves a little slow for the youngin’s. It’s definitely going to have more meaning once he has his own family).
• No. 6 – Trading Places. Definitely PG-13 by today’s standards, but this is the perfect movie to round out the list. A great switcheroo film with two of the 80s’ best comedians and the always happy-revenge-ending. Boys love this kind of stuff. “Looking good, Billy Ray!” “Feeling good, Louis!”

See? I didn't make this up.

There you have it. 3 action flicks. 3 comedies. And one drama that you can slip in while trimming the tree. Which reminds me…you should always have that traditional film on tree-trimming or wrapping night. My personal tradition is staying up til 2 a.m. wrapping all my gifts and stuffing the stockings…all set to Vision Quest (“Only the Young,” baby). Occasionally I slip in Diggstown or Hoosiers, too. That has nothing to do with this topic, but since when has that ever mattered? Enjoy this season.

Happy Holidaying!

Bill

Thankfulness

First World Problems

One of my favorite new memes (pronounced “mimi”) is what’s known as “first world problems” (aka “my rough life”). You know memes best as the LOL Cats pics with captions that get passed around or remember when Kanye interrupted Taylor Swift and then all those spoofs came out about Kanye interrupting historical figures to tell them something was “the best of all time?”

Now we have #firstworldproblems. These are hilarious because you can check your Facebook or Twitter pretty much at any time of the day and read about someone’s FWP gripe. The picture at the start of this post is a great example. All the good FWPs have a picture of someone crying or in some despondent state with a caption that reads something like, “I wanted the iPhone 4s, but I couldn’t stand in line all day or I would have missed my nail appointment.”  Or, “my parents bought me a brand new car, but it doesn’t have an iPod jack.”

Or this one…

I’m sure somebody intended these to be a commentary on how egocentric our culture is. And who are we to dispute it when we only have to look at reality shows to see how detached people are from what really matters.  That said, these are also just a fun way to poke at ourselves considering everything that’s going on in the world and serve as a humorous reminder that we sometimes lose perspective of what really matters in life.

So I thought it would be fun to list some of my favorite FWPs I see (or paraphrases of them). So here goes with a picture to accompany them for effect…

• “FaceBook is free, but they changed their format again…” ~Half the FB population last month
• “Uuugh! Out of gas, my phone is dying, & I left my morning shake on the counter. ” ~Brooke Burke (model/host) Oct. 11th Tweet
• “My favorite episode got pre-empted by the World Series. I don’t like the teams that are playing.”
• “I don’t have to work for a living. I have to drive my kids to practice and then go to the store right after.”
• “The office internet is down…I have to check FaceBook on my iPhone.”
• “I went to get my usual latte and coffee cake at Starbucks this morning. They were all out of coffee cake.”
• “I held the door for someone. They didn’t say, ‘thank you.’”
• Seriously. People actually post this kind of stuff all day. I don’t mind because it allows me to post sarcasm bringing me a little levity after a long day at my desk.

Okay, I have to close with one of my favorite FWP memes:

Now tell me one of your favorites, or one that you use.

Happy FWPing

Bill

A Yardstick of Quality

By the time I get to post this, you may have already been flooded with talk about Steve Jobs and his impact on our society. I’d like to take a different angle on this…from a parent’s perspective.

I could simply post one of his quotes (he has several very good ones) and end there. But everyone knows I’m not a man of few words. Here is the quote:

“Be a yardstick of quality. Some people aren’t used to an environment where excellence is expected.”

I can only wonder what our society would be like if everyone took on this attitude. There are times and instances where I have taken on this attitude. When I used to sing. When I write. But, for the most part, somewhere above “good enough” and “great” is where I’d like to believe my work falls. Somewhere around “above average” is where my running and cycling fall. Somewhere between “awesome” and “cruise control” is where my parenting falls. And my contribution to this world falls somewhere between “giver” and “taker.”

If you know me, you may agree or disagree with some of these descriptions. My staff and colleagues see me in an entirely different way than my actual friends. My kids see me differently. But, I know where I measure. I know what really matters. And, admittedly, I am not a yardstick of quality in all the areas I believe I should be.

And what’s funny is that, as I sat down to write this,

As big an impact as Jobs had on our technological society, Randy Pausch has probably influenced more people exponentially by his example and teaching.

I was going to focus on how I want my kids to take the example and words of Steve Jobs, and also Randy Pausch, to strive for excellence so that they can be successful in their careers. Because that’s the biggest thing that matters to me on a day-in and day-out basis. But as I write, I know that what my kids do for a living is not the be-all and end-all.

I have friends who put their kids’ religious faith at the top of the heap. Some who put achievement in sports, music, fine arts, etc. at the top. Some put being the queen of the social hill (I like to call them OC Housewives in training). And many of us put some combination of all of these on our lists.

But things like egocentricity or laziness or life distractions seem to derail many of us. And if you read Jobs’ quote above, it’s easy to see that perhaps true excellence is simply not expected. Or, we preach about excellence, but permit less-than-excellent performance because, well, that’s life. My kids know that I expect straight A’s in school. But then they also know I’ve given them a cushion so that they don’t get corporal punishment for falling short. Is it my fault that they don’t get straight A’s? Maybe. But I do preach about doing their best. The funny thing is that when I am told, “I did my best” on a test, I can ask two questions to confirm that their best was not always what they gave.

Anyway, I spent dinner discussing with my son what it means to be a “yardstick of excellence.” How you do things well for the sake of doing them well. While Steve Jobs’ quote seems to suggest you should be something that everyone else compares them to, I won’t go that far because it hints of narcissism. But I do think that the second part of the quote rings true. In our society, mediocrity seems to be the measuring stick. Most people actually don’t like environments where excellence is required.  Why? Because it increases anxiety… and none of us likes to feel anxious. We just like to feel comfortable. And so the message has turned into a softer one. A friend even posted about how our children seem to get an award for showing up to school these days so that everyone can feel special. I think everyone can feel special. But I think they need to earn it.

"Excellent!"

So take a few minutes to reflect on where you may not be pursuing excellence. Where you may have allowed complacency to set in. And then decide if it matters enough to you to change your habits. I’ve started with the t.v. because it is an opiate for the masses. It kills my creativity. It kills my productivity. It keeps me awake later than I need to be. And as I reflect on the amount of time I wasted on re-runs, I swore my kids would not have the same regret. Do I want them to be the next Steve Jobs? No. But I do want them to succeed at their goals.

Happy Reflecting,

Bill

If you’re not cheating…

Last week, 19-year old Sam Eshagoff was arrested for taking the SAT…six times…for six high school students (also arrested)…charging $1500 to $2500 each. Genius? Well, I hope so since he was taking the SAT for them. You can read the details here: SAT cheating scandal du anne’e. <- Yes, there’s one every year.

It’s a great tale of kids who have been under-achieving but responded to parent pressure, I’m sure, by trying to secure their future with a high test score. They may not get into Yale, but at least they could avoid the local junior college (not that there’s anything wrong with these, economically), which might be a social faux pas in their family circles.

So what’s the big deal?

In sports, there’s a familiar saying that goes, “if you’re not cheating, you’re not trying.” Truer words have not been spoken. *Gasp!* What?! How can you say that, Bill?!  Sorry, but you can’t talk me off this one. Everyone cheats. Everyone. And when it’s not out-and-out cheating, it’s pushing the integrity envelope, end-running around the rules, and always with justification.

Yep, that about sums it up.

Exhibit A:  Barry Bonds (roids), Lance Armstrong (allegedly, four separate claims), Pete Carroll (plausible deniability), Lane Kiffin (I like to pick on Trojans), every sports agent and every college sports star, Bill Belichik (video-gate), Marion Jones (had to throw a woman in there).

And you know what happened to these cheaters? Nothing. Slaps on the wrist. Except for Marion (before you go into a misogyny rant, all Olympic cheaters receive harsh penalties).

Exhibit B: Countrywide Mortgage, B of A, and other lenders who looked the other way. Every mortgage broker, every ‘stated income’ borrower. Wall Street. Their consequence? A bailout.

Exhibit C: Every politician (yes, lying, concealing, empty promising = cheating). And most don’t even get voted out.

Exhibit D: Commissioners in Little League and AYSO. Yeah, they stack their team and instruct kids to intentionally tank for lower ratings on tryout day.

Exhibit E: You, every time you drive over the speed limit, justify a “business lunch,” or let your tax accountant throw your business write-offs in the “acceptable range” based on their “experience working for the IRS.”

Exhibit F: Every awards show/event, except maybe Kids’ and Peoples’ Choice Awards, where politics determine the winners.

What’s the lesson our kids learn every day in our society? It’s not about integrity and hard work. It’s about results, not getting caught, keeping up with the Joneses by any means. And the justification? Let’s look at the justification for the 6 accused and Sam. Based on the location, I’m betting these kids are all bright and simply underachieved. So, they will likely succeed when it matters, right? I mean, how much of your high school education do you actually use? And we all know that college is a boondoggle save for a few major-related courses and an internship that contribute to your first job. In fact, the real criminals are the colleges and universities  who have exploited us with requirements of 120 credits most of which serve students only when watching Jeopardy!. All for the almighty dollar.

Well, college may help with THIS question...

And wait, you mean my future promise is based on my ability to perform on math problems that I will never encounter in real life and vocabulary words I will never text, post or tweet (or otherwise use in a business context, unless I’m drafting SAT questions)?

Look, I understand the opposing view. [Read using stodgy voice]:  “These tests predict the discipline and aptitude of students to help determine whether or not students can continue to have the same discipline and memory skills necessary to pass 4 years of useless classes.” Great. And then these kids go to their jobs and employ real skills and either survive or get eaten up. My firm once had a Berkeley graduate perform file clerk and gopher tasks. A Berkeley grad! That meant good grades, good high school, and a high SAT. By all means she should have been predicted to do well. She lasted one month (three weeks longer than I wanted). My 12-year old daughter has more common sense and aptitude to perform the office jobs required of this pot head (she was). She didn’t even have book smarts. She just knew how to manipulate and/or use people to get what she wanted.

I see plenty of Orange County parents doing whatever they can to influence the powers that be over our children so they can get an edge. What happened to merit…and letting a kid schmooze on their own? “Problem, son? Let me talk with the teacher or coach to see what I can do.” “You don’t want to wait for X? Let me see if I can tip somebody and get it for you.” And Cliffs Notes are the very epitome of cheating. You don’t read the book when you can use Google, Wikipedia and Cliffs Notes to tell you everything you need to know. We’ve been doing that for decades. Is that cheating? Well it isn’t following the rules.

But we have double-standards here. Some things are acceptable. Others are not. Weren’t these kids just doing what they see and hear on the news, TMZ, ESPN and with their own parents and peers? Don’t those with the money have the ability to bend the rules or outright break them? And isn’t this more of a “white collar crime” thereby justifying a slap on the wrist instead of hard time (Yes, you can completely manipulate the market costing consumers millions and get a fine with little to no jail time for the one scapegoat, but steal from a house and it’s slammer time)?

Yeah, I’d use the “product of my environment” defense if I were Sam and the 6. But it looks like the 6 are already in good shape. Their prospective colleges won’t be notified. These kids just have to retake the SAT. That’s justice for ya.

"Hi, Mom? I guess I got busted for using my entrepeneurial skills like a politician or banker. Can you bail me out?"

Now, excuse me while I check my son’s grades and prepare yet another speech to him about assimilating to the institution of education in America so that his grades and test scores can get him into a good school…

Happy Cheating,

Bill

Shave and a Haircut…Western Style

Photo Courtesy of Pelican Hill Resort

I love Pelican Hill. I have golfed there often and, despite, the tricky “level” greens, there’s nothing like playing with an ocean view on every hole. I also like the clubhouse for its atmosphere and food. It’s probably the best “19^th hole” I’ve been to. I do like my OC types of restaurants and this can have that feel. And, if you’ve never had breakfast down by the pool area on the hotel side, it’s a must. Guys, you’d probably get points for taking your woman there just for breakfast.

What I didn’t realize was that the resort has so much more to offer, which is kind of sad considering I had attended the 2011 “40 Under 40″ event there earlier this year. Before I get into the fun part, I have to tell you that a great date would be to check out the spa –or golf for men and spa for ladies—and then eat at the restaurant. They make the pasta on site and when they told me the noodles melt in your mouth, I was skeptical, until the noodles did just that.

Well, thanks to my connections at Churm Media, I was fortunate enough to attend a special “bloggers only” tour of the hotel/resort side. In addition to the above, I got to taste several gelatos at the gelato bar and then we went down to the spa. Now, if your masculinity cringes when you hear the word spa, then let me remind you that every gangster movie involves a bunch of masculine Italian dudes talking business in a steam room with towels wrapped around their wastes (hopefully). I actually only tend to do spas in Vegas where I work out, get a massage, do the steam room (to rid my pores of the cigarette smoke) and lounge around watching the sports screens. But, that is going to change…

At Pelican, the foyer has a nice open feel with

I don't think I could get through one line of hand-carving and some guy did this whole thing...

a hand-carved(!) waterfall and a nice shop with scents and other spa things. There’s a gym and a Jacuzzi and the standard steamers. BUT THEN…

There’s now a barber shop! Okay, I have a barter deal with my good friend Torey at Salon TM2 in Irvine as far as my hair goes, but they do straight-edge razor shaves here! That’s pretty much on every man’s bucket list, which looks something like: wear dark brown poncho like Clint Eastwood in a spaghetti western and a Clint Eastwood cowboy hat (not an Indiana Jones one) and walk in all squinty-eyed and stubbly-faced. Hold a mostly-smoked cigar at the side of your mouth and say, in a gravelly voice, “I need a shave.”

[fade to reality] Okay, the scents and the string music pretty much knock that out, but I was told that they were gonna be changing the scent to something more “manly” while also piping in Sinatra while displaying ESPN.

As luck would have it, Kate Starr hooked me up with a freebie. My first ever straight-razor shave job. I met my shaver (is that what they’re called?), Amy, and she let me get comfortable on the reclining spa table. Okay, I passed on the barber chair, but I have enough metro in me that I prefer the spa table. Amy described to me her long family history of barbers. She even showed me her sharpening stone passed down from her grandfather.

This was her grandpa's. It's old...

After sharpening it, she took the leather strap thing and proceeded to do that thing that barbers do with the razor on the strap thing. I forget what it does, but it has to do with making sure I get the fewest nicks possible.

She actually did that thing you see them do in the movies.

After spending time chatting about the finer points of Jack Black men’s facial products versus Lab Series for Men (I use a mix of both), I got a face wash followed by the hot towel wrap to soften my beard. Seriously, it was just like in the movies! She then worked the shaving lotion in and we discussed the good old days of beach volleyball (Karch, Stoklos, Hovland, etc…) while it softened my beard.

I have to tell you that I really love my 5-blade. I shave in 30 seconds and my face is smooth. But a man’s gotta try the straight-edge…

As my barber brought the blade across my neck, it definitely was a different experience. She warned me of a pulling feeling since that’s how the blade actually gives you that close shave. What was interesting is that there were places where I felt nothing and there were places where my manliness was tested. “Wow this is the easiest part,” she said as she shaved my chin, one of my thickest stubble areas, while I thought “okay, THIS is what makes me Clint Eastwood!”

eh, close enough...

When we finished, I got post-shave lotioned up and my face felt as smooth as a baby’s butt. I definitely felt more burn than I do with my five blade, but all it did was remind me all day of how much of a MAN I was now! And the cool thing is, my sides have always grown in a little sparse as compared to my moustache and chin –yes, I can grow a fu Manchu—but since that straight-edge, it seems to grow in more evenly and full.

I’m looking forward to my next time there. Gonna throw in a foot massage and a request for some Macallan 18, though. Because a little scotch always takes away the (wait for it) edge…

Happy shaving!

Bill

Unwritten Rules

So, occasionally I listen to sports talk on ESPN.com while I’m working. The drivel helps me focus as the radio personalities discuss one topic ad nauseum for an hour at a time.

One of today’s topics discussed unwritten rules of baseball, which got me thinking about the unwritten rules we might face in life and how, occasionally, we probably should put them out there for confirmation, clarification, or discussion.

Let me set the stage (if you could care less about baseball, skip down to the “Baseball Anecdote Ends Here” line): In the Angels – Tigers game Sunday, several unwritten rules were broken. But these were not cut-and-dry because of the tone that was set. Here’s what happened:

1. 1.  Early in the game, a player hit a home run and stood at the plate for what pitcher Jered Weaver thought was too long, so Weaver jawed at him for it. The unwritten rule? Don’t taunt the pitcher when you just launched one on him (Ordonez actually wasn’t sure the ball was fair).
2. 2.  Later in the game, Tigers’ Carlos Guillen, unhappy with Weaver’s jawing, hit an obvious homer and intentionally stood at the plate until the ball cleared the wall and Weaver noticed him still standing there. Guillen clearly breached the above unwritten rule…and changed the attitudes of both teams for the game’s remainder. Arguably, he was justified because of Weaver’s smack talk all game.
3. 3.  Weaver immediately responded by throwing a brush-back pitch near the head of the next batter. Unwritten rule? When an opposing player does something wrong, pitchers are entitled to -and often expected to- retaliate (the best ex. is to hit a batter after one of your own batters has been hit). Weaver was tossed because he was just warned by the ump NOT to do that.
4. 4.  In the 8th inning, Tigers pitcher Justin Verlander had a no-hitter going. I’m going to spare my female readers on all the superstition that surrounds a “no-no” but down 3-0, Erick Aybar decided to bunt to try to get on base. (Aybar is fast and often bunts to get on base so this is not unusual). Unwritten rule? No bunting when a pitcher is close to finishing a no-hitter.

In the last 24 hours, No. 4 seems to be the most-discussed issue of the four. But, it’s not cut-and-dry that what he did broke  the rule.  Why? Because the Angels were only down by 3 runs and can easily generate 3 runs with a spark (they generated 2, by the way). Some would argue that the rule doesn’t really come into effect until near game’s end. Is that the 7th inning? the 8th? the 9th? It also depends on the circumstances. Was the pitcher dominating or was he lucking out with good and lucky defensive plays? If he’s dominating, maybe Aybar shouldn’t have bunted. And what about the earlier antics of Guillen? Does one disrespect beget another?

I recall when Cal Ripken, Jr. was days away from breaking Lou Gehrig’s consecutive games played record. An aggressive young base runner tried to slide cleats-up into Ripken to break up a double-play to first. Ripken was fine after a tumble, but the base runner’s own teammate chewed him out for almost ending Ripken’s streak. What he did was absolutely correct by gamesmanship standards, but there was a higher respect to be paid at this point. Sometimes it requires doing the right thing even when the other person did the wrong thing.

I think it’s called “maturity” and “etiquette.” In this vein, Aybar probably shouldn’t have bunted in the 8th inning, though the game was close enough that he was entitled to do whatever he needed to do to help his team win. If he did it simply to snub the unwritten rule and to pay the Tigers back for Guillen’s faux pas earlier, then he was in the wrong because right is right.

**Baseball Anecdote Ends Here**

Now onto the fun part. Again, this made me think about the kind of unwritten rules I encounter or otherwise see in my life and in my neighborhood (as I’ve written before, we have an awesome neighborhood of probably 30 sets of families who may spend time together in some fashion). Here are a few humorous Social Unwritten Rules I came up with in no particular order:

1. 1.  Don’t ask how someone’s ex’s new baby is doing. Even if the divorce is amicable, do you think he really cares?
2. 2.  If you get invited to someone’s large neighborhood party, put them on your large party invite list. If you do omit someone, remember you can use the excuse of changed-over emails, Evite.com defects, or “I could swear you were on the list!” And a late invite is better than no invite.
3. 3.  Never, ever, ever, ever… check out your friend’s high school or college-aged daughter. And never make any comment that belongs in the local sports bar about her to her dad. Ever.

...or look, or comment...

1. 4.  Don’t pout about non-invites where there are parties of 3 or 4 couples. Sometimes, people make spur of the moment plans and you had to be there OR sometimes it’s just easier to go with two or four other people. And single people, sometimes it’s a couples thing.
2. 5.  DON’T discuss the single guy’s past girlfriends, dates OR ex with the new GF or date when you first meet her, and especially when you’ve been drinking at one of said large parties. It serves nobody but your own need for gossip, makes the GF/date uncomfortable, and puts me -errrrr- the single guy in a bad position. This rule applies even when I -errr- the single guy agrees that the story is funny. Speaking of funny, check out this funny site of stories: mygirlfriendiscrazy.com
   
3. 6.  Don’t brag on Facebook about every single
   

   A prelude to the "Ignore" option

   achievement and event your kid is doing. Sometimes it’s nice to let someone else praise your kid…even if it’s not announced to your 552, now 551, FB friends.

4. 7.  If you live in a townhome/condo, don’t pollute the neighborhood air with cigarette smoke and daily (and nightly) loud phone talking on your patio and then gripe about someone’s dog dropping a present near your patio. <– This would fall under the above Aybar rule where you may break a rule (dog-dropping) due to the tone set by the previous player’s antics (second-hand smoke and loud yapping).  Good dog…
5. 8.  Never show up in a cash game of poker, win early, and then leave before the others have a chance to win their cash back.
6. 9.  Never bad mouth public schools to your friends whose kids attend public schools.
   
7. 10.  Always one-up your friends with stories of how awesome your kid is. Failure to do so (read, silence) indicates you aren’t doing enough as a parent to keep the conversation rolling. Similar to this is the unwritten rule that, if your kid is mediocre or only above average, embellish a little…
8. 11.  Remember to invite the single parent occasionally for dinner, a beer, etc. Even though they may turn you down 9 times in a row, the 10th may be a charm and it makes them feel good.
   

I know there are probably two dozen others I didn’t write, so feel free to add some.

Happy Etiquette-ing,

Bill

It Takes A Village

Normally the title refers to raising kids and teaching them societal mores. But, the way my summer’s going, I’ve come to the realization that it takes a village for a single dad to manage his kids’ summer activities.

The way I always viewed it, there seems to be a gene that is borne in women to coordinate rides, etc. I, on the other hand, hate asking for help and figure I have to do it all by myself. I mean, it’s one thing for me and the parents of my daughter’s best friend to trade sleepover nights. It’s entirely another thing when I make a week long commitment to cheer or fashion camp.

It wouldn’t be so bad except that, thanks to my son’s flash of achievement drive, I’ve been schlepping him most days to AND from his high school geometry class that’ s 20 minutes each way. Pick up is lunch time, so the next thing I know, two-plus hours of my work day are gone. Now, their mom has pitched in, but she had some work travel for the past two weeks so it was as if I pretty much had them all day, every day.

On the plus side, they get to be more independent, like ride their bikes to get their own lunch (because God-forbid they make something at home. And while I’m on that subject, these kids are so sheltered. I was doing stuff like that when I was 9!).

Anyway, I felt like I was going to go insane! How do I handle all

This is how may brain has felt this summer

my work at the office, get my son to his 6-week crash course, Monday through Friday, making sure he studies and does well so I didn’t waste my money, all while making sure my daughter is getting an A-1 summer with her activities and my involvement?!

Thankfully, I had two moms in on the carpool and post-activity duty. They were life savers. And, they helped me deal with my daughter’s afternoon happiness (my son can hang at home all day and be content, or he finds a friend, while my daughter gets bored easily and has less friends).

Looks like Bill's drowning...again...

Now, I know this all seems obvious and maybe not even a big deal. But  you have to consider that I’m a man. And we men like to do things ourselves. It’s an ego thing. I also have the obsession that I NEED to be at everything my kids do and are a part of. Never mind the fact that my dad made three of my sporting events my entire childhood –which could serve as the reason except that my mom rarely missed a game. I’m bad at meal prep. I’m bad at decor. And I’m bad at pawning my kids off on others.

But the truth is all of these other parents are teamed up with their respective spouses. And I’m not. And while my ex is there for things, there are times she simply can’t be.  And that’s when I feel like I have to be as present as the moms who are at everything. That, or I need a new teammate.

So, you single dads who try to make it all happen . . . remember to use the village when necessary. In fact, some of my friends keep me in mind when it comes to certain times of the year or other activities. And I appreciate it. But unless I ask for help, it’s not going to come most of the time.

Hmmmm….maybe I should ask someone to make me a lasagna.

Happy Time Managing,

Bill