Friday evening while I was watching an Italian Serie A soccer match on my DVR, my satellite box bit the dust. The TV screen went black. All attempts to revive the box failed.
In short – my TV was broken for SuperBowl weekend.
Yikes!
What’s a dad to do when his TV breaks? I called my dish company, pronto.
“Let’s take it through some tests to see if it’s really dead,” the service guy on the phone said.
“Trust me, it’s dead,” I said.
He had me plug the box into another outlet. Still broken.
He had me push and hold the reset button. Still broken.
He had me push and hold the power switch. Still broken.
“Looks like we’ll have to send you a new box,” the satellite service guy said.
Ya think?
“It’s SuperBowl weekend,” I reminded him.
“No worries, a replacement box will be there in 24 hours.”
Friday night with no TV – what’s a teen boy to do? My teen son called a buddy and they went to the YMCA to pump some iron. Turns out a bunch of their friends had the same idea. They lifted weights and had a pick-up basketball game. (And to think I initially gave him a hard time for wanting to join the YMCA. My bad! The YMCA is awesome for teens!!!!!)
Friday night with no TV – what’s a teen girl to do? My teen daughter had plans with friends, whether the TV worked or not. I swear, I barely see her anymore.
As for me, I caught up on work (I was out sick last week), had a vodka martini with a twist, and read some of Lori Gottlieb’s new book: Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough (Hey, I want to know what women are thinking when they’re out there sizing my good enough self up on the dating scene.)
Saturday morning with no TV – my kids helped cook breakfast! (How great it would be if the TV broke more often.) Then they helped me clean the house (WTF? I love ‘em!) Then my kids hung out with their friends, and I got more work done (finally caught up).
Saturday night with no TV – we watched a DVD (Schindler’s List. I’m giving my kids an education in great films.)
As for that 24 hour delivery? Didn’t happen.
Which brings me full circle to the dilemma in this post – what’s a dad to do when his TV box breaks on SuperBowl weekend?
We got ourselves invited to a party at a friend’s house!
And now I know – man’s best friend is not a dog. It’s a buddy with a working TV on SuperBowl weekend.
Congrats to the Saints!
If you liked this broken TV post, you might also enjoy:
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February 8th, 2010
Posted in
family |
17 comments
I’m exhausted. Sleep would be good. Short of that, I remind myself to just breathe.
Before I explain why just breathing is my elixir of choice, let me run down my day.
I spent the day nursing a massive head cold – I slept in, avoided work as long as possible, made one of my favorite old home remedies: grapefruit tea (with an eye on a tequila shot later that night).
In the afternoon, I went to watch my teen daughter compete in a sporting event – a soccer match in the rain. As a lifelong Californian who simply doesn’t take rain seriously, I don’t own an umbrella. Yep, I stood in the rain for two hours. (My daughter’s team won, and she played great.)
At night I attended a lecture given by Silicon Valley luminary Guy Kawasaki (former Apple software evangelist for the Mac, and founder of Alltop. I’ll blog about that next week.)
My saving grace in all of this was hearing a song by Pearl Jam. It was cold and rainy, and I was driving from one place to the next, and Just Breathe came on. Something about this song touches me to the core.
Pearl Jam, Just Breathe youtube video
Maybe because when I’m faced with something I fear or dread, I know I can get through it if I just breathe. If I’m sad or distraught and wonder where and when the happiness will come, I just breathe. If I’m home alone wondering when I’ll have company, I just breathe. If I’m spooning with a lover in bed, I just breathe.
Focused breath is conscious intent. No matter how tired or stressed I get, I can just breathe and things eventually fall away.
I know my connection to breathing is probably different than Pearl Jam had in mind. But it sure was comforting to hear them on this rainy day, when I was otherwise not here and not functioning very well in the world.
Just breathe.
If you liked this just breathe pearl jam video post, you might also enjoy:
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February 5th, 2010
Posted in
life |
21 comments
Last week, the director of my thirteen-year-old son’s middle school band had them play with the local high school band. Fun stuff, and a chance for the younger kids to hear what it’s like to play with better musicians. But why stop there?
Last night, they played with a local adult community band.
We’re talking the whole symphonic wind ensemble – flutes, clarinets, trumpets, trombones, of course. But also oboes, piccolos, bassoons, saxophones, tubas, French horns, and a full rhythm section – snare, base, timpani, cymbals, xylophone, bells. All that was missing was a flaming gong (Van Halen owns the patent on that!)
These adult musicians were good! I played trumpet in college, and the first chair last night would have played circles around our section.
And the kids got to sit right in the mix. Every middle school musician was paired with an adult playing the same instrument and same part. My son got to play with the lead trumpets. What a thrill.
The adult band played a Spanish piece, with soaring flutes and cadenza-ing trumpets and trilling clarinets. Sort of in the style of Man of La Mancha. (Cue the video, this a Hawaiian youth band with strings included…)
Then adults and kids played a Bach style toccata that the students had been working on all year. Wow, they sounded good with everyone playing at once.
The adult band conductor led them through a clinic, working on different passages. Less staccato, more legato. Crescendos should start from the bass sounding voices. Good stuff.
The combined groups played another tune, this time with a trumpet solo. The adults let the kids play the solo. And wouldn’t you know, that soloist was my son! (He did great.)
The adults closed out the night with one last song of their own.
My son was pumped! And frankly, so was I. I’ve been to so many grade school concerts in recent years, it was a wonderful reminder what a full-fledged band with expert musicians sounded like.
Bravo! Not only for the music we got to hear, but for giving our kids a chance to play with the adults.
If you liked this concert band for kids and adults post, you might also enjoy:
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February 4th, 2010
Posted in
family |
14 comments
Ah, Grey’s Anatomy. That show women love so much.
My ex-wife watches it.
My female friends watch it.
My teen daughter’s girl friends watch it.
And my daughter watches it, too.
So when I finally saw Grey’s Anatomy for the very first time, I was shocked at how much casual sex and hooking up went on. Is this what teens are watching?
Head over to the Hot Dads Blog and see if:
Grey’s Anatomy – Okay for Teens?
When you come back, I’ll give you a key to my place. (You’ll get that reference after you read the post.)
If you liked this Grey’s Anatomy post, you might also enjoy:
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February 3rd, 2010
Posted in
parenting |
21 comments
I’ve been a single parent for ten years now, and I take great pride in taking an active role in both my kids’ lives. Besides taking care of them at home, cooking, cleaning, talking to them about sex – I’ve also volunteered in their classrooms, coached a few sports teams, and helped with other activities.
So when I recently discovered that my teen daughter already attended her high school winter ball – and I hadn’t known about – you’d think I would be outraged.
Actually, it didn’t bother me a bit.
Oh, sure. I want to see my daughter every time she puts on a fancy dress. She’s a sporty girl, so it doesn’t happen too often. (But when it does, boys watch out! She’s got Italian and Swedish genes.)
And yeah, I want to know who my daughter is going out with, then make the boy sweat while she gets ready, asking about his intentions and future career plans. (Forget meeting the Fockers, he has to meet me!)
But the weekend my daughter went to her ball, I was out of town. So neither of those things happened.
Still, you’d think this single dad wouldn’t be totally clueless to the affair. And I wasn’t. Just a few weeks before, my daughter and her friends went to the mall to look at ball gowns. I simply didn’t know the date of the dance. And no one bothered to tell me. (Missed communications in two-home families can be deadly.)
Here’s why it doesn’t bother me that I didn’t know she already went:
1) My daughter never asked me to bust out my wallet and pay for a dress. (Score!)
2) I didn’t stay up late, stressing like crazy about whether she was making good choices all night (she did, and I got a great night’s sleep.)
3) I drank coffee martinis and had my own late night fun (conference affairs are a wonderful thing.)
And so, to whoever took my daughter to the dance, and whoever brought her home (no telling who’s involved) – I say thank you for returning her safe and sound.
When’s that spring dance? I need to make plans.
If you liked this single dad and daughter story, you might also enjoy:
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February 2nd, 2010
Posted in
single parents |
21 comments
I recently went out of town for a business conference. I’ve been to plenty of conferences in my day, and so I know that beyond professional networking, a conference can be a great place to unwind, have some drinks, flirt with an attractive attendee, and hook up for sex.
Now, now, I’m not saying this happens often, or to many people. But business trip sex does happen to some folks, sometimes. While it wasn’t a goal of mine to hook up, I figured it was prudent to be prepared with appropriate protection.
Wouldn’t you know, in my rush to pack, I forgot to pack condoms.
After checking into my room, I went to the lobby gift shop. A cute young woman with a pierced lip was working the cash register.
“Do you have a drug section?” I asked.
“Drugs?” she asked, taken aback. “I don’t sell drugs here!” As if she was the local pusher.
“Not drugs,” I said. “A drug store section.”
“Oh, sure,” she said. She led me to a little island of shelves and gestured. “What medicine do you need?” They had cough drops, antihistamines, ibuprofen, etc.
“Not medicine,” I said. I looked around to make sure no conference attendees were within hearing distance. Then I leaned toward the salescleark and shielded my mouth with my hand. “Condoms,” I said.
“Ohhhhhh,” she said, as if I’d just let her in on a dirty little secret. I wondered if this was the first box of condoms she’d ever sold. She looked about twenty.
She grabbed a box of three, then held it out for me. I suddenly became uncomfortable. I didn’t want anyone at the conference to see me buying a box of condoms, then later see me chatting up a female attendee. Awkward! Especially since my conference agenda was professional. I was here to build business connections first. The condoms were a precaution.
“Why won’t you take them?” the clerk asked. “Are you allergic?”
“Can we be discreet about this?” I asked.
She bugged her eyes, like this was the first time she’d been an accomplice to someone else’s sexual dalliance. But she deftly palmed the box and went back to the register.
“Big date tonight?” she asked, ringing me up.
“No,” I said. “I’m attending the conference. And the hotel has a bar.”
She flashed a devilish grin. “You’re here alone, aren’t you!”
I sighed and nodded my head, feeling equal parts silly and sad. I knew the chances of me actually hooking up were quite slim. Still, if there was even a remote possibility that I’d bring a woman to my room for sex and spooning, and I didn’t have protection, well that’s just dumb. Or a crying shame, however you look at it.
“Do you want me to open the box so you can hide them in your wallet right now?” the sales clerk said. She’d become quite the co-conspirator.
“No,” I chuckled. “I’ll put the box in my pants pocket and head straight to my room.”
I passed through the hotel gift shop two more times during the weekend. On both occasions, the young salesclerk with the pierced lip flashed me a “go-get-‘em tiger” smile. I didn’t bother telling her the truth about my conference, that my business networking was focused and professional and going great, and that was all that mattered to me. I simply returned her gaze and let her imagination run wild.
Rawr.
If you liked this funny condom story, you might also enjoy:
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February 1st, 2010
Posted in
hookups |
24 comments
I was recently in a financial services office where a gorgeous young woman was servicing me. (Now, now – just because my mind was in the gutter doesn’t mean yours needs to be, as well.)
She was sexy, pretty, early twenties. Dressed in the most fashionable business clothes that still looked professional (and I don’t mean the world’s oldest profession.) With alluring eyes and a killer smile.
Near the end of the servicing, the beautiful woman handed me her business card. Her name was unique. Persian?
“No,” she said. “I’m French.”
Just the way she said French was so damn hot. And her sultry look oozed sex appeal and confidence. I definitely felt my sexual energy rising.
I sensed it wasn’t just her. Rather, she was channeling the feminine energy of every French woman who came before. What is so damn sexy about French women? Big Little Wolf has waxed poetic on the sexiness of the French. With this particular woman, it was more than her looks and her sultry expression. Sexy is an attitude.
Of course, me being a single dad on high alert for my next girlfriend or fling (whichever comes easiest) – I wanted to ask her out on a date right then and there. But I’m mid-40s, and she’s early-20s, so the half-my-age-plus-seven math for an older man younger woman relationship didn’t quite work out.
I went back to the financial services company a week later, and was thrilled to see this hot sexy French woman was free when I came in. She serviced me again.
This time, she upped the eye contact to bedroom levels, almost daring me to make love to her right there on her desk.
Damn French.
I know, I might be projecting all of this. But trust me, as much as I love latina women, I don’t fill with lust and lose my ability to speak when I’m in their presence. I go for the kill.
This sexy French woman? She slew me.
If you liked this hot sexy French women post, you might also enjoy:
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January 29th, 2010
Posted in
dating |
26 comments
