Journal of Fear and Hope (2015)

Suffer the Children
December 26, 2015

Being a parent is hard work. I don't know how my wife does it.

Kidding. We're a good team. But my wife's definitely the one who knows what she's doing, having raised her sister's kids when her sister opted out. I don't understand people who check out of their kids' lives. Yeah, it's difficult, but how can you look at an innocent,tiny baby and not want to protect, feed, hold, educate, and love it? It should be built into the DNA, but we keep seeing stories almost everyday of someone abandoning their child in a park or letting their kid die in the room next door while they got high. I find myself wondering again about my own dad. He taught me to fish and ride a bike and catch a ball. When I was three and still completely bald, he shaved his own head in solidarity. But when I was one, my mom sent him out with their last few bucks to buy formula, and he returned with a Playboy magazine. When I was older, he stole my silver dollar collection and pawned my possessions for drug money. My wife plays Devil's Advocate and says he was sick with an addiction. But nobody takes cocain or heroine thinking it's safe as milk. As the fable goes, he knew it was a snake when he picked it up. He knew he had two children at home that needed a dad, but he didnt' care. He spent our money getting high, pissed away the time he could have spent with us, and abused our mom. What is missing from a human being that you can make those choices? I know there are lots of ways you can fail at fathering, but I also know I tried to clip my daughter's thumb nail today and accidentally snipped her skin. I made her bleed, and I feel miserable about it. There's no way I could hurt her on purpose.

There are monsters in this world, and I hope I never meet them. They should wish the same.

This isn't quite what I meant to write. I got a little more serious than I thought I would. I do that sometimes. I wrote something for my daughter which I hope will make up for the nail clipper incident. It's a combination of serious and not so serious, as well. I hope you'll enjoy it, too. Thanks for reading.

Something So Right
December 18, 2015

I'm a dad! It's only my rigid, Batman-like grammar training that is keeping me from adding a few dozen exclamation marks to that sentence. I look everyday at her wide, staring eyes; her squishy, round cheeks; her long, piano-player fingers, and my floods with light. I feel a sense of duty and belonging. I'm excited to watch her grow and learn, become excited and curious about the world. I can't wait to make her smile and laugh. I really hope she likes Rush.

So far her facial expressions have been exaustion, fear, and dumbfounded shock. She takes after me.

A Mess is not Allowed
September 4, 2015

Hi there. Thanks for visiting the Paper Kingdom. I haven't written much for the site in a while, but I have been remodeling. Let me show you around.

I installed a new Nerd Quiz Live! page, and I'm happy it's getting some use. If you haven't listened to our podcast yet, you're missing out. It's a game show where four engaging, interesting, and goofy people compete in nerdy trivia, word games, and puns. My partners in NQL! are fellow nerds and comedians, Craig Holcombe and Colin Keane. The others that join us are an eclectic bunch of entertainers, photographers, musicians, writers, even a ballet dancer once. And I make them prove their geekiness. So check it out, and if you like what you hear, subscribe on iTunes.

While we're touring the new digs, let me point out the new improved Images page. This thing consumed me for months. I wanted a display format that didn't require you to download and render half a hundred large images at once. That method was slow and torturous. But now, utilizing some java scripts I found on the internet, I have put together a pleasing gallery of original photography, collages, and posters. And you can easily share the ones you like on Pinterest with a single click of a button.

There's so much to do to keep a kingdom running, even a paper one. I'm still cleaning up several sections of the site, adding pictures and title images. I have lots of essays planned, and I'm trying as best I can to continue making Nerd Quiz videos. I also hope to finally open the store and sell a few books. I just don't have much time. If you could send me one of those time tumblers from Harry Potter, that would be just great.

Miracles Will Have Their Claimers
March 4, 2015

I was asked to read the opening words at church last Sunday. Just something brief to touch on the topic of that day's sermon. I wrote about miracles, culling from an odd collection of sources and personal anecdote. I got lots of positive comments, and a couple of folks told me I should write a full sermon. They thought it strange that I protested so much. It's not a matter of writing something long enough or being able to speak for the required length of time. It's the idea of labeling anything I write as a "sermon." That adds a level of gravity and worth I don't feel I've earned. A sermon is a lesson on how to live your life, and I am not at all qualified to teach anyone how to live. I've only had one major victory in my life: marrying my wife. And she will tell you that I made many many mistakes along the way. I am not a qualified teacher of anything. Not writing, not stand-up comedy. Maybe I can critique, but I don't know enough to really teach anything. The pastor at the church where I did my reading has suffered and struggled and witnessed enough to pass along advice and what to do and what not to do. He has learned. I don't feel I have. So I won't preach or sermonize, or even simonize. Except sometimes I will, because, as I've said, I'm a jerk.

Such Wonderful Toys?
January 3, 2015

Last week was Christmas. I spent a few hours playing with my two great-nephews outside. My wife makes a big deal about how good I was to watch them, but you don't have to resort to torture to get me to play with toys. The boys got lots of stuff from their grandma, from Santa, and from my wife and me as well. All this got added to the already huge stash of stuff piled in their rooms and strewn about the yard.


Among the outside toys was a monster truck the older boy had had for a while. It was none other than Grave Digger, the greenest, grave-diggingest, most monstrous truck of all. It was his favorite. He told me that twice. Grave Digger was his favorite. At some point, Grave Digger wound up in front yard, right between as we were playing catch. So my nephew picked up the truck and hurled it away. It landed and broke. Irreparably broken by his own hand. I asked why he threw it, and he said he didn't know it would break. May he heard the forlorn tone in my voice, because he tried to fix the toy. He stuck the severed wheel struts through the tires so it looked like Grave Digger had transformed into some kind of hovercraft. "It's fixed," he announced, and picked up the truck. The wheels immediately fell back off.

He put the toy on the ground and told me to go back to my position as catcher in our game. Breaking his favorite toy didn't phase him. When I was kid and I broke or lost a toy someone had given me (especially if it were my Gramma), I would break down and cry in shame. I knew my Gramma didn't have much money, but she had spent a little of it on me, and I had carelessly wasted it. My nephew doesn't value his possessions because he has so many. And he gets more all the time. If one breaks, no biggie; he'll get another. But he won't take care of them, and it will be a long time before he's truly thankful for any gift he's given.