Twice in the span of one week, I’ve had somebody ask me, “So, what’s your story?” after meeting them for the first time.
That’s exactly how each of them asked it too. “So, what’s your story?”
Both times I was flummoxed. My story? I don’t have a story. I’m in my late thirties, married with two kids. I’m perfectly average in every way. I grew up in the suburbs. I went to college. I graduated and got a job. No run ins with the police. No family tragedies. Hardly the stuff of enticing conversations.
I’m not sure what these people (both women, by the way) were trying to get from me. “What’s your story” is an incredibly broad question that implies that I, in fact, have a story to tell.
I’m sad to say that I did not respond with charm and wit either time. I stammered and repeated the question back to them, “What’s my story?” and gave a short bio of my career. Boring. I’m surprised the women kept talking to me after my lame responses.
It wasn’t until the drive home after the second time that an answer occurred to me. The next time somebody asks me what’s my story I will be ready.
“I was born a poor black child…”*
*It's not offensive, it's a reference.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Table Scraps, Volume #5: Peanuts and Parenting
Table Scraps are little bits of writing that aren't quite enough to be full posts. But just because they are little, doesn't mean they can't be shared. So every once in a while, I dust them off and throw them together.
I took the Bean to his first sporting event, the Harlem Globetrotters. Sitting in the stands, I taught the Bean to shell peanuts, the way my dad taught me when he took me to sporting events. While he seemed to enjoy watching the game, he was more interested in putting the empty peanut shells on his fingers and entertaining his friend, who had come with us. And it dawned on me as I watched him that I have created a little ham.
Everyone always talks about how daughters are supposed to loooooove their daddies. Daddies are their world. This has not happened to me with Sprout. Everytime I take what I think is a step forward in my relationship with her, she bluntly reminds me that I'm nowhere close to the center of her world. Right now, she refuses to give me hugs and kisses. Sometimes when I leave in the mornings, but always at night before she goes to bed. Sprout continues to cling to her mommy, just like she always has and maybe always will. She is an impossibly frustrating child, wrapped up in a very cute package.
It feels like I spend my time parenting a pre-schooler being elated and completely mesmerized and entertained by him to being blindingly mad at him. WonderWife™ and I have very different parenting styles. Mine is to get really frustrated and mad at him, which is always a great way to parent.
__________________
I took the Bean to his first sporting event, the Harlem Globetrotters. Sitting in the stands, I taught the Bean to shell peanuts, the way my dad taught me when he took me to sporting events. While he seemed to enjoy watching the game, he was more interested in putting the empty peanut shells on his fingers and entertaining his friend, who had come with us. And it dawned on me as I watched him that I have created a little ham.
__________________
Everyone always talks about how daughters are supposed to loooooove their daddies. Daddies are their world. This has not happened to me with Sprout. Everytime I take what I think is a step forward in my relationship with her, she bluntly reminds me that I'm nowhere close to the center of her world. Right now, she refuses to give me hugs and kisses. Sometimes when I leave in the mornings, but always at night before she goes to bed. Sprout continues to cling to her mommy, just like she always has and maybe always will. She is an impossibly frustrating child, wrapped up in a very cute package.
__________________
It feels like I spend my time parenting a pre-schooler being elated and completely mesmerized and entertained by him to being blindingly mad at him. WonderWife™ and I have very different parenting styles. Mine is to get really frustrated and mad at him, which is always a great way to parent.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Influential Education
A different kind of post from me today over at Hot Dads, talking about a New York Times article, education and the state of Texas.
(I know, I hardly recognize me either.)
(I know, I hardly recognize me either.)
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Elementary My Dear Watson
“Wu is 5 in Spanish,” the Bean said to me as he bounced around on my bed while I changed from my work clothes into my pajamas.
The Bean had been known to make up words and call them Spanish. While I understood his newfound fascination with languages other than his own, we live in Southern California, where a great deal of the population speaks fluent Spanish. I would hate for him to appear insensitive, so I decided to nip this in the bud straight away.
“No buddy, cinco is 5 in Spanish.”
He was very insistent that I was wrong. “My teacher told me,” he bellowed.
The Bean had also been known to misinterpret his teacher’s lessons, which is why it took us three days to convince him that Martin Luther King, Jr. did not in fact want to keep black people and white people separated.
WonderWife™ suggested that I speak with his teacher in the morning, but I wasn’t done interrogating the subject yet. I remembered that the Bean had said something earlier in the week about a dragon. I also recalled that it had just been Chinese New Year.
“Are you learning Chinese?” I asked the Bean.
“Yes. The good luck dragon.”
“Buddy boy, wu is 5 in Chinese.”
“That’s what I said, ‘wu is 5 in Chinese.’ I told you that, Daddy!”
The next day, the Bean’s teacher confirmed that they had been learning Chinese in class.
And that is how I cracked the case of the mysterious and misguided wu.
The Bean had been known to make up words and call them Spanish. While I understood his newfound fascination with languages other than his own, we live in Southern California, where a great deal of the population speaks fluent Spanish. I would hate for him to appear insensitive, so I decided to nip this in the bud straight away.
“No buddy, cinco is 5 in Spanish.”
He was very insistent that I was wrong. “My teacher told me,” he bellowed.
The Bean had also been known to misinterpret his teacher’s lessons, which is why it took us three days to convince him that Martin Luther King, Jr. did not in fact want to keep black people and white people separated.
WonderWife™ suggested that I speak with his teacher in the morning, but I wasn’t done interrogating the subject yet. I remembered that the Bean had said something earlier in the week about a dragon. I also recalled that it had just been Chinese New Year.
“Are you learning Chinese?” I asked the Bean.
“Yes. The good luck dragon.”
“Buddy boy, wu is 5 in Chinese.”
“That’s what I said, ‘wu is 5 in Chinese.’ I told you that, Daddy!”
The next day, the Bean’s teacher confirmed that they had been learning Chinese in class.
And that is how I cracked the case of the mysterious and misguided wu.
Monday, February 22, 2010
In the Cushions of My Couch
The following is what was discovered in my couch while cleaning it:
One souvenir flattened penny from the aquarium
Three grocery store coupons, expired
$1.10 in change
Two toy cars, one medium sized convertible, one Lightning McQueen
One full package of Disney table toppers
One play baby bottle
Five glowsticks, expired
One marble
One play plastic fork and knife
One real plastic fork
One Cars book
One pair of Sprout’s pants
Two mismatched socks
Four pens
Three pen caps
One plastic toy pirate sword
One Mickey Mouse memory game card
One AA battery, expired
One porcelain baby spoon
One Palm smartphone stylus
One playing Card, 5 of spades
One KCRW free music download cards, expired 2007
One crayon, lime green
One plastic ID badge from toy doctor kit
One package fruit leather, peach (still wrapped)
One ticket for amusement at local petting zoo
One souvenir flattened penny from the aquarium
Three grocery store coupons, expired
$1.10 in change
Two toy cars, one medium sized convertible, one Lightning McQueen
One full package of Disney table toppers
One play baby bottle
Five glowsticks, expired
One marble
One play plastic fork and knife
One real plastic fork
One Cars book
One pair of Sprout’s pants
Two mismatched socks
Four pens
Three pen caps
One plastic toy pirate sword
One Mickey Mouse memory game card
One AA battery, expired
One porcelain baby spoon
One Palm smartphone stylus
One playing Card, 5 of spades
One KCRW free music download cards, expired 2007
One crayon, lime green
One plastic ID badge from toy doctor kit
One package fruit leather, peach (still wrapped)
One ticket for amusement at local petting zoo
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
A Peek at the Future
A few weeks ago, I was amongst the many members of the Mac cult who perked up at the reveal of the iPad, thought about it and collectively said, "meh." But after watching this, I get it now. It may not happen right away but I think that based on how Wired magazine is going to be creating for the tablet, it is the thing that just might save publishing.
This is really cool stuff right here.
This is really cool stuff right here.
Monday, February 15, 2010
A Double Dose of Chocolate
Sometimes people take something good and do something completely unnecessary to it in an effort to make it better. This is the case when somebody covered a marshmallow in chocolate.
Returning home after work, I discovered a present for me placed on the pleather chair in my home office. It was a bag of Jet-Puffed Mallow Bites that were spotted and procured by the delectable woman I call WonderWife™.
Mallow Bites are a simple concept—mini marshmallows covered in milk chocolate. A thin layer of chocolate surrounds a mallow that is slightly less fresh than a normal one straight out of the bag. Anyone who’s ever eaten a Peep that’s been left out on the counter overnight knows the exact texture to which I refer. This is not necessarily a bad thing.
By the time I had gotten to them, the bag had already been torn open by WonderWife™, who could not or would not wait until I got home to sample them. She proclaimed them too sweet. But as I’ve said here before, there are very few things that are too sweet for me. I found the Mallow Bites to be really good and crazily addictive.
Now excuse me whilst I shovel a few more Mallow Bites into my face.
A mysterious package arrived for me in the mail sent by my brother-in-law, Buckeye. Inside was a candy bar adorned with “limited edition” called Snickers Fudge. It’s awesome that my entire family is now enabling my new product obsession.
The main difference between Snickers Fudge and original Snickers is the caramel. While SnickFudge has peanut butter flavored nougat and peanuts, it’s missing this essential ingredient. I don’t know why they call the bar “fudge” cause there is very little about the bar that’s truly fudgy. But I’m sure the Snickers marketing department has their reasons, so who am I to argue?
It’s hard to go wrong when combining peanut butter and chocolate. And while there isn’t anything particularly wrong with SnickFudge, it’s just not that inspired. The peanut butter flavor is pretty mild, gladly stepping aside to let the milk chocolate become the dominating flavor. I think WonderWife™ summed it up best when she said, “It’s good and I’d eat the hell out of it, but I miss the caramel.”
There is a reason why Snickers is the most popular candy bar in the country. While SnickFudge is decent, it’s not going to unseat the champion.
(Many thanks to Buckeye for the hook up. You are one of the good ones. And thanks to WonderWife™ for coming up with Buckeye's internet nickname.)
**Totally unnecessary FTC disclaimer: I am not shilling for the above items. They were bought with hard-earned money, consumed and reviewed because I am an obsessive freak who, for some reason, loves new candy products and needs to tell the world how I feel about them.
Returning home after work, I discovered a present for me placed on the pleather chair in my home office. It was a bag of Jet-Puffed Mallow Bites that were spotted and procured by the delectable woman I call WonderWife™.
Mallow Bites are a simple concept—mini marshmallows covered in milk chocolate. A thin layer of chocolate surrounds a mallow that is slightly less fresh than a normal one straight out of the bag. Anyone who’s ever eaten a Peep that’s been left out on the counter overnight knows the exact texture to which I refer. This is not necessarily a bad thing.
By the time I had gotten to them, the bag had already been torn open by WonderWife™, who could not or would not wait until I got home to sample them. She proclaimed them too sweet. But as I’ve said here before, there are very few things that are too sweet for me. I found the Mallow Bites to be really good and crazily addictive.
Now excuse me whilst I shovel a few more Mallow Bites into my face.
__________________________
A mysterious package arrived for me in the mail sent by my brother-in-law, Buckeye. Inside was a candy bar adorned with “limited edition” called Snickers Fudge. It’s awesome that my entire family is now enabling my new product obsession.
The main difference between Snickers Fudge and original Snickers is the caramel. While SnickFudge has peanut butter flavored nougat and peanuts, it’s missing this essential ingredient. I don’t know why they call the bar “fudge” cause there is very little about the bar that’s truly fudgy. But I’m sure the Snickers marketing department has their reasons, so who am I to argue?
It’s hard to go wrong when combining peanut butter and chocolate. And while there isn’t anything particularly wrong with SnickFudge, it’s just not that inspired. The peanut butter flavor is pretty mild, gladly stepping aside to let the milk chocolate become the dominating flavor. I think WonderWife™ summed it up best when she said, “It’s good and I’d eat the hell out of it, but I miss the caramel.”
There is a reason why Snickers is the most popular candy bar in the country. While SnickFudge is decent, it’s not going to unseat the champion.
(Many thanks to Buckeye for the hook up. You are one of the good ones. And thanks to WonderWife™ for coming up with Buckeye's internet nickname.)
**Totally unnecessary FTC disclaimer: I am not shilling for the above items. They were bought with hard-earned money, consumed and reviewed because I am an obsessive freak who, for some reason, loves new candy products and needs to tell the world how I feel about them.
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