The Best of Daddy Geekdom 2011

The year winds down and the holidays barrel towards us.  It's usually a time of reflection...and eggnog.  Man do I love eggnog.  And WonderWife™ has started making her own...  Oh sorry.  Got distracted. 

2011 was a year with incredible ups and downs.  On the positive side, my family is flourishing like WW™'s summer garden.  Professionally, it was a year filled with great challenges and personal rewards.  I spent more time in airplanes and hotels this year than the last three or four combined.  It was a crazy time with a tremendous amount going on, but we all got through it unscathed.

Somehow I carved out time for blogging (though not as much as I would have liked).  And as we prepare to put this year to bed, I thought I'd list a handful of my favorite posts from the 12 months that made up 2011.

I spent a lot of time this year trying to feed the Bean's inner geek--not always successfully. 

I spoke my mind in a post that garnered some attention.

I ended up living with some unlikely new roommates.

I continued my battle with the worst arts and craft ever.

And I exposed my kids to one of the most whimsical authors of my childhood.


Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!

Happy Birthday to Blog

On a whim three years ago this day I opened a Blogger account, dubbed myself Daddy Geek Boy and wrote the following words:

It's a known fact that there aren't enough people blogging in the world. We're not going to use up the internet unless we really try.

Thus this blog was born.

I never expected anyone more than my family and a few friends to read it. I never expected that I’d still be at it nearly 360 posts later. But here I am and here it is and here you are.

Happy birthday little blog! And a big thank you to all of my readers for the motivation to keep it going. You guys are awesomely awesome.

Walking Away

I've been writing this blog for two and a half years. That's more time than I have devoted to most things in my life. However, there comes a time when things must end. Sadly, I've found it harder and harder to keep the ideas coming and lately when I sit down at the keyboard, the ideas don't flow like they should. Writing is becoming more work than fun these days, and that's never what this whole blogging thing was supposed to be about. On top of it all, my real life is getting busier, the kids are getting older and need more of my time and attention. I'm in difficult position discovering that there isn't enough time to do all of the things that I want to do.

So with all of this weighing me down, I've decided to call it quits and walk away from this blog. This is a really hard decision, but I hope you will understand and respect it.

I sincerely thank all of you for reading my words over the years. It means more to me than you will possibly know.

An Experiment

I have to be honest with you, this writing thing is hard. Coming up with two or three posts a week about my boring life is challenging. My kids are hilarious, but not all of the time. New food products only come out every so often and we're still a year and a half away from Michael Bay's next movie, so I have very little to complain about there. I sometimes think about taking a sabbatical when the creative juices start to run dry. But honestly, I love writing too much to stop.

So with that said, I need your help with an experiment. I would love for you, my awesome readers, to provide some grist for the writing mill and interview me. Ask me some questions and I will work to turn the answers into what I hope are entertaining posts for you. Is there anything you want to know about me? Are there topics you'd like me to write about? My philosophies about parenting? Music? Movies? Are there things you hate that I write about? Who would win in a fight, a Wookie or an Orc?

If you're interested in playing, leave a question in the comments or send me an email.

This is either going to be great or a total disaster. Either way, I thank you guys for continuing to read.

The Gastronomy of Marriage: A Review of Sorts

I have a great admiration for writers. Real writers—people who know how to shape words to form beautiful, descriptive sentences and those who tell captivating stories with rich characters that transport a reader to specific places and times.

Every once in a while I get asked if I am a writer. I struggle with my answer because while technically by the act of putting words together in a specific order as to transmit a precise thought I am writing, I do not think of myself as a writer. Not a true writer anyway. I write as a hobby. I string together a few paragraphs about some amusing stuff my kids did and hit the “publish” button. To me, a real writer uses words the way a sculpture uses clay. They have a far greater command of the English language than I and they have far more creative minds. I also have special reverence for those who have had a book published. The act of composing a work that is not only coherent but also riveting for a few hundred pages is to me an impressive accomplishment. I am in awe of their talent and, frankly, a little jealous of their ability to earn a living from crafting the written word.

I don’t know many people who have written a book, let alone had one published. However, my friend Michelle did just that. She recently came to town on her book tour and even though I’ve known her for years, after reading her book I couldn’t help but look at her with a certain degree of celebrity. Michelle told me about her endeavor over a year ago, and not only was I intrigued by the idea that she was writing a book, but I was enthralled with the topic.

Michelle Maisto’s new book is called The Gastronomy of Marriage. It’s a memoir about a young woman, her fiancé and their relationship to food as they begin to build a life together. Michelle is Italian and her husband to be, Rich, is Chinese. Michelle is vegetarian. Rich is a carnivore. To them, food is more than just sustenance. As told through Michelle’s point of view, the act of choosing, preparing and consuming a meal is a ritual that unites them as a family.

Michelle is an evocative writer who paints lush pictures with her words that allows the reader to practically see and smell the food about which she writes. She is honest and open, letting her life and her passion for all things culinary spill onto the page. It is impossible to read this book without getting hungry. Thankfully, the chapters are punctuated with recipes of the food contained within.

I truly enjoyed this book, not only because I am proud of my friend who wrote it, and not only because it was about a subject that I also love, but because it’s the kind of eloquently written book that inspires me.

If you like to read and you like to eat, I wholeheartedly recommend The Gastronomy of Marriage.

Offsprung Has Me Reeling

Early on in my life as a parent, WonderWife™ bought me the book Alternadad. Though I was a dad, I'm not one who most would call "Alterna". Nonetheless, I felt that the tome's author, Neal Pollack, was a kindred spirit. I immediately began cyber-stalking him. This is how I came to find Offsprung.

Offsprung is an online parenting community started by Neal as an outgrowth of his book. The site contains columns written by some fantastic writers and a bulletin board where people talk about everything from parenting advice to politics to the random songs on their iPods. It's where "Daddy Geek Boy" was born before I began blogging. In short, it's a fantastic community filled with witty people who, over the years, I have come to call my friends.

Why am I telling you all of this?

Today, Offsprung is re-launching with a shiny new format. Somehow the new management thinks that I might have something to contribute and has asked me to write a movie blog for them. The blog is called "Reeling" and my first post is up today. It involves a whole mess of anthropomorphic animals.

So click on over to Offsprung, play around and check out my new blog. It's my internet home away from home and a community that has saved my sanity one too many times.

Our Idealized Selves

Over at Hot Dads today, I compare being on line with being a parent. I think it kind of makes sense. Click on over and check it out. Here's a taste:

My friends tell me that I’m much funnier in my blog than I am in real life. I wish I could disagree with them, but they’re kind of right. In real life, it’s usually the most obvious joke that pops to mind and unfortunately for those around me, I lack the impulse control not to say it.

When You Can Say the Word "Poopy"

The past 24 hours have been madness I tell you, madness. I have a plate and it's full, but there's more stuff piling on top of it. Work has been, and will be, frenetic for the foreseeable future. I'm woefully behind editing my home videos (thus incurring the wrath and scorn of both sides of my family). I have a half dozen things that I've written, but can't seem to carve out the time (and truthfully the energy) to finish them. What I really need is about three Red Bulls and half a day with no responsibilities--work, parenting or otherwise--to get caught up.

WonderWife™ is currently out a girls' night--an event only slightly more rare than a sighting of Halley's Comet. While the house is quiet, and the kids are asleep, I'm taking the opportunity to get some of this stuff done. But it would be wrong of me to ignore you guys whilst I cross things off of my to do list, so I present you this exchange between the Bean and me:

WonderWife™: The Bean only gets one story tonight.

DGB: Oh yeah? (turning to the kid) So what did you do?

The Bean: I did something naughty.

DGB: Like what?

The Bean: I said...um...I said (trails off incoherently).

DGB: You said what?

The Bean: (hesitating) Poo...

DGB: You said "poopy"?*

The Bean: (relief) Yes! I said (pause) "poopy".

DGB: You know, when you're telling me the bad word you said, it's okay to say it.


*I know that on the scale of bad words, "poopy" ranks near the bottom next to "drat" and "shoot". But you gotta draw the line somewhere. "Poopy", when used properly, is like a gateway curse.

An Unreliable Narrator

WonderWife™ and I have a long-standing private joke. Years ago, we overheard some off-handed remark made by a little girl and we thought it was funny. Since then, we have lobbed this line at each other, knowing it will always earn a smile from the other. What the girl said isn’t important. The important part, for this story anyway, is where we heard it. Or at least where we think we heard it.

I recently discovered that WonderWife™ and I have different recollections of where the joke originated. Completely different. We both agree that it was on our honeymoon and that the little girl was at the pool of the hotel. But on our trip, we stayed at two different hotels on two different islands of Hawaii and we each have a memory of this taking place at a different hotel.

My memory of the event is clear. I recall the pool and where the girl was in the pool. I remember details like where I was in relation to the girl. The girl was there with her brother and was taking to her father. I remember WW™ beside me, laughing as we walked past. Admittedly I have a poor memory, so the fact that I can conjure this up with crystal clarity speaks volumes. However, WW’s™ competing memories of the event are equally as vivid.

So we have one story with two completely different versions of how it happened. The plain truth is that one of us is wrong. One of our memories is a total fabrication. One of our brains is deceiving us. Yet there is no way we will ever know the truth. It’s like a real life version of Rashomon.

It’s startling to realize that just because a memory is vivid, doesn’t mean it’s true. Our brains are the most unreliable of narrators.

Periodically, somebody will ask me why I write this blog. I’ve never had a satisfying answer…until now. I love to write and I adore the small audience of people who are kind enough to read my words. But the reason why I write is so I can capture the moments of my life and the lives of my kids. Because I know that just because you remember something, it doesn’t mean that it actually happened.

A Confession

This is hard for me to say. I’ve been lying to you. I’m sorry, but I have. Everything I’ve written here for the past 2½ years has been untrue. I am not a dad. I am not even married. The Bean, Sprout, WonderWife™…all figments of my over-active imagination. A fantasy made all too real by the constant writing of this blog. I don’t even have any pets. The images I’ve posted? I got them from Flickr. In truth, I am a 56 year-old man. I live alone in a studio apartment in Northridge. I work in a cubicle doing data entry for a company that sells tile and flooring. I have a few friends and every once in a while, I go out on a date.

I want to thank you all for your support over the years. I'm going to continue to write, but now that I have come clean, the subjects of my blog will change somewhat. However, I still think that you'll enjoy my stories about work and of my attempts at dating. I'm just figuring out how to use some of those internet dating services. I know that if I keep at it, I will find that someone special and hopefully have kids for real one day.

Guess Who's Hot?

Incase you didn't know it, I'm a Hot Dad.

Yes, that's right. I'm contributing to the Hot Dads blog. My first post is up there today.

Be sure to check out all of the Hot Dad action.

I Read Too Much

The past two days have been really crazy and I haven't had a lot of time with my laptop. Checking back in today, Google Reader tells me I have 70 new blog posts to read. Not to mention the endless threads that were stared on my internet home away from home, Offsprung.

If I subscribe to your blog, I want to read everything you write and comment when appropriate (comments are a blogger's currency, you know). But man, you guys are prolific.

Or it's entirely probable that I'm trying to read too much.