All in Kids
But the real surprise is who continues to give them
A vegetarian and a non-vegetarian walked into a bar…
My Battle Against the Greeting Card Industry Turned Into a Political Statement
From Teen to Twilight Years, Meeting the Family Never Changes
Movies have ruined my life; they taught me that people fall in love at the drop-of-a-hat (I should stop wearing hats).
Re-Post from an earlier blog:
When I first was separated from my ex-wife, Arlene, my three kids were all under 10 years old. When Christmas came around that year I knew it was going to be hard — maybe not so much for the kids, but for me (selfish).
With all the traditions that come with this time of year, there is one in particular that my friends and I have not celebrated since we started having kids and the holidays became all about them (thanks for ruining Christmas, kids).
It was Father’s Day a few years ago and the kids and I decided to do a tour of the Jersey shore. The plan was to start in Asbury Park, and then we would work our way along the coast to Belmar and then end up in Point Pleasant for a late lunch. In Asbury Park, as we walked the boardwalk, I got excited as we neared Convention Hall. I told the kids to follow me...
I was at my sister’s house a few years ago for a family function, not sure of the actual occasion, when my daughter Amanda, who was three years into her degree in journalism at NYU casually said, “You know, maybe I should be a doctor.”
When the kids came along to have a house filled with Halloween decorations was appropriate. The trick-or-treaters that ventured up our walkway were assaulted by various forms of zombies and ghouls that reached from the grave to take hold of the little princesses and cowboys in search of candy.
Suddenly, a wave appeared and before I could turn and rush to the shoreline the ocean attacked. I found myself in a world of foam, pockets of air allowed me to breathe as I was tossed like a wet sock in a dryer. Head over heels I tumbled, my legs and arms scrapped by the crushed sea shells that covered the shoreline.
The days I spent with the kids usually ended up with us going out to dinner, then to Blockbuster (yes, it was that long ago) to pick up a movie. Last stop before home would be to the closest supermarket to pick up dessert, which was usually ice cream, whipped cream, and chocolate syrup.
When I was younger, I was a bouncer. I walked through crowds, wearing the “I’m in charge here” shirt, broke up fights, threw out drunks and tried (tried) to pick up girls. It was a great time. Even after my bouncer days were over, I would still jump in and break up fights, though it proved more dangerous without the shirt (I’ve heard ‘who the fuck are you?’ more than once).
I am amazed that siblings growing up in the same house could be so different from one another. My daughter, Amanda, my sons, Alexander and Danny, may share a common genetic code, but that’s about it. You can tell they are related but I knew watching them grow up, they weren’t the same.