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Thursday
09Oct

Let's Get Political

DRUM ROLL PLEASE……………………

I’m about to throw the full support of McDad Nation behind the candidate I believe to be the best choice for our teetering nation. Before I do, some background info on me.
  • I’m registered unaffiliated—I would rather have a bikini wax that be a member of a political party (except for my own party that is still in the planning stage).
  • My voting history:
  • 2004 Bush vs. Kerry  I couldn’t stand either choice so I threw my vote at a random third party candidate.
  • 2000 Bush vs. Gore   I voted for Gore. That other dude scared me.
  • 1996 Dole Vs. Clinton I voted for Ross Perot (and yes, I find him crazy too. I just really can’t stand our two party system and when I can’t decide which candidate sucks less, I go down to the next one on the list in hopes that one day we can get enough support for another party—The Common Sense Let’s Focus On What Really Matters Party would be my choice.) 
  • 1992 Bush vs. Clinton I voted for Dubya’s daddy. Had I realized that Bubba was going to turn the Oval Office into a strip club, I most certainly would have voted for that madman.
  • 1988 Bush vs. Dukakis  I voted for Bush. Come on. I don’t know how even the most liberal Dem could have voted for that crazy little dude with the helmet cruising in the tank.
  • 1984 Reagan vs. Mondale My first time in the box. Very exciting. I voted for Ronnie for no other reason that I grew up in a RED house and that’s all I knew.

_____________________________________

2008 McCain vs. Obama

My first inkling has been to go third party again as neither man really does much for me. I like that Johnny MC is a more moderate Conservative than most. But there is a long list of things I do not like about him. I like that Barack is young, fresh, energetic and bi-racial (and yes my friends still whistling Dixie, that’s a good thing). Though, there are many things I do not like about him, too. For a while I was leaning towards Bob Barr of the Libertarian Party (easy, if you research this party’s platform you’ll see they are not pro-kiddie porn and not pro-drive-by shootings….their core is smaller government, less taxes, more freedom….a nice start for my Common Sense Party….I’ll lay out my platform sometime this month.) Alas, Bob Barr’s running mate is essentially a bookie with bad gambling infomercials and that’s just stupid. Though this seemed the the best of the Third Party options, I couldn’t really take it seriously.

As much as I’ve grown to despise our inefficient two party system, this election has gotten to the point where I need to not only vote for a mainstream candidate, but step out of my comfort zone and actually stump for one. Being a Colorado resident, my battleground vote counts more than some of yours so I’ve spent a lot of time making my decision.

AND THE WINNER IS……

  • First of all, I really suck at Photoshop, as you can see.

The reasons for my choice are rambling-ly summarized as follows:

I don’t want one party at the top for more than 8 consecutive years because that can easily turn into 16 years and that’s too much.

In 2000 I chose Gore over Bush because I believed that Al was a better man than Yosemite George. Period. It had virtually nothing to do with politics. I respect the hell out of McCain for his service to the country and his POW nightmare, but that does not qualify him to be the President. It just makes him a bad ass. Obama isn’t perfect, and he’s not necessarily a better man than McCain, but he has the best potential in my opinion to be a leader in the face of a serious shit-storm. I have no evidence to support that. All I have is my gut after hearing all each man has to say.

STATE OF THE UNION

Our country and our people have become a fat, lazy, selfish, global joke. Yes we have! Yes we have! We’ve become the New York Yankees of the world: rich, spoiled, entitled, obnoxious, and irresponsible. And we wonder why everyone hates us.

And we like to BLAME, don’t we? Those rotten banks kept giving me more credit and let me buy that house that I couldn’t afford. When are we as a people ever going to stand up and take responsibility for our shitty decisions? No one forced us to accumulate trillions of dollars of revolving debt. We just had to have that Wii and that Plasma and those $300 shoes we’ll wear twice and that closet filled with infomercial junk and that sweet Hummer parked on the street because it doesn’t fit in the garage. We’re a reactive debtor nation (government and people) with no foresight or restraint. The only issues we’ve really cared about over the last decade have been abortion, gay marriage and purchasing power.

Now we are forcing our government to piss away a trillion more dollars to try to fix our wasteful, stupid, short sited businesses and our wasteful, stupid, short-sited people (and yes, I include myself in that group). But worst of all, our wasteful, stupid, short-sited government has been the shitty parent teaching us all these wasteful, shitty habits. We have become a big fat, global joke. And if you can’t admit that, you really need to turn off those reality TV shows and read somethinganything.

The United States was born as the gritty underdog that fought religious and governmental persecution and beat terrific odds to create a nation that would thrive like no other had before. But 200+ years of success have make us complacent, poorly educated, poorly governed and plagued with a total lack of perspective.

I’m sick and tired of hearing goobers that have never been outside the rural county they were born in yammer about how we live in (insert your favorite goober dialect) the greatest country in the world. You should get a passport and use it at least once before you make such a claim. We used to be the greatest country in the world—if such a statement even means anything….and in my opinion it doesn’t. But the fact is WE’VE SLIPPED. We need to collectively man-the-fuck-up and start making our country credible again. THE BANKS are not to blame. THE GOVERNMENT is not to blame. I AM TO BLAME and YOU ARE TOO BLAME. Yes you, not “the other guy.”

We ALL need to “own this.” We ALL need to cease the partisan bitch-fest. And we ALL need to focus on IMPORTANT issues for a change.

John McCain is just too old, too goofy and too yesterday to be the man to lead us to the greatness we need to find. And Sarah Palin needs to go away and go away fast. She is an absolute, frightening, dangerous JOKE. I get how all you deeply religious conservatives put abortion etc. ahead of all else (note: my mother, whom I love with all my heart falls into this category), and I get you think she is just so fantastic and “just like me,” but come on, let’s get serious here. Can we really allow Palin to sit that close to the Oval Office? If you think the answer is yes, go to You Tube and watch her Katie Couric interview and then go watch that famous Miss Teen South Carolina video. I think we US Americans would be better off with Miss Teen SC as the VP….or maybe Tina Fey. At least Tina is smart.

OK. So why Barack? Is he the most qualified person we have to run our country? Of course not. Presidential candidates never are; there in lies the rub. Our best people would never be able to tolerate our political system. Our best people wouldn’t be good enough on TV to get elected. And our best people would not be able to whore themselves enough to be able to finance their campaigns. So when I listen to McCain speak and I listen to Obama speak, my gut tells me over and over that Obama is the clear choice. Both my Left and Right friends all have strong arguments for their respective sides. The more absolute their arguments are the scarier they are, but both sides have valid points. When I look at the men (and woman) involved in this election I see one side that has a chance to help and one side that doesn’t.

I’m voting for Obama. I think we need a break from Dubya’s team…..and yes, I know Congress has been leaning left as Dub’s been driving the bus. But that doesn’t matter. If you want to be Pres you have to own the results regardless of the team you have. Dubya makes for some fantastic sound bites, but he never should have been allowed near the White House in the first place.

Now it’s the other team’s turn at bat. It seems that Obama is far enough ahead in the poles that he actually will win (if you put any credence in the poles). Now here’s a message to all you hardcore liberals. If the Dems get that magic 60 in the Senate and Barack wins—watch out. They better get shit done because it’s ON YOU if they don’t. The RED states will go ballistic and come 2012 that’s folksy gal that can see Russia from her backyard just might end up staging a mini-Iditarod on the south lawn of the White House.

The bottom line is that Presidents get more credit and more blame than the really deserve. Global economies and markets are bigger than one man, one government, or one nation. Good, bad or indifferent, wars have always been fought and always will. And the team at the top of the heap will always take the most shots from the competition. We may be floundering, but we are still perceived as residing on the top of the heap. I think it’s time we started earning that perception again. Let’s stop chanting U-S-A at rallies and start acting responsibly and productively and fix this mess.

I think Barack Obama will be our next President and I really hope he wins re-election in 2012. Why? Because if we survive this crisis, Barack will get the credit and get re-elected. If things linger or get worse, he’ll get the blame and be a one-term Pres. Despite the fact that I think we need a nice smack in the face—-I kind of hope things turn around for the better.

I’d like to be able to send my girls to college one day more than I’d like us to learn a well needed lesson.


Wednesday
01Oct

New Post At Mile High Mamas

Click the link to go to MHM and check out my new post there.



Wednesday
24Sep

Dads Will Be Dads

I haven’t been a male chauvinist pig on the blog for a while so I figure I’m a little overdue. Being a Dad To Daughters (DTD) naturally redefines one’s paradigm with regard to the opposite sex. Even when you try to be a pig, the DTD filters reflexively activate to damper one’s natural male pig-ability.


Yesterday, during a meeting, I consciously decided to suspend my DTD instincts and revert back to my more base level maleness. I found myself in a discussion with a very attractive, single, early thirties young lady that I had just met. She took an instant (most likely plutonic) liking to me and I stole glances at all her fun areas as she spoke. I used the “W” word early on in the conversation in case she didn’t happen to notice my ring—a sad, knee-jerk act I must have defaulted to as if the girl was going to steal me away to the supply closet for a noon-er if I didn’t squelch that option early on.

As I tired of checking out her fun areas, I realized that she was talking quite a bit. Even she realized she was talking quite a bit, as she mentioned over and over that she was talking quite a bit and probably boring me with inane anecdotes about people that I didn’t know. She was correct on all counts.

At first I didn’t mind as I was checking out her fun areas—I might have mentioned this already—and in the back of my mind I thought that MRS might call me out of the blue to tell me what a great husband I am and why don’t I go ahead and take a run at some fresh as a reward for my fabulous husbandry. Curiously enough, I never received that phone call, nor do I ever expect to receive such a call in the future. Not that even with such permission would I consider extra-martital sexy-time since the permission would undoubtedly be retroactively revoked, landing me in a world of hurt reserved for fresh meat at Shawshank. I’d also be quite concerned about all these new-fangled STD’s floating around the 21st Century and I’d end up killing “the moment” with my potential tryst as I doused myself in head-to-toe industrial-strength latex.

And as my new friend rambled on in all her regular-guy-attainable hotness, I realized that this is why God invented alcohol. 6-drink Mitch could endure this verbal diarrhea for the chance at some late night hi-jinx, but sober Mitch, armed with either marital permission or even single-man freedom, would have no choice but to pawn this chatty lady off on the next unsuspecting and preferably drunker dude looking for a little action.

Mercifully, our little tête-à-tête was broken up, and my DTD instincts gradually circulated back into my bloodstream. My fidelity remained intact—not that there was an actual threat to its perfect record. And my little friend went on about her day, probably never once evoking my memory.

I realize that my identity as “husband” and “dad” has so firmly entrenched itself in my being that I couldn’t change it if I wanted to. Fortunately, I don’t want to. I’ve got a pretty good gig and I’d be a moron to screw it up.

But it is good to know that I can at least suppress the DTD instincts for just a few minutes if need be. Just because I’ve been neutered doesn’t mean I’m no longer a man. Right? Nothing wrong with checking out those good old fun areas once in a while.


Tuesday
09Sep

Waste Management

Parenting presents dozens of unexpected scenarios. One of the most dominant is waste management. Before we become parents we hear all stories: the exploding poop out of the diaper, the getting pee’d on the second the diaper comes off, regular-old meat and potatoes bedwetting, and all the other usual suspects. But the one thing you don’t know before you become a parent is the astounding level that waste management envelops your life.


New parents have absolutely no idea how much time and energy they will put into: discussing, planning for, reacting to, evading from, rewarding for, examining, spending money on, training on, and disposing of urine and excrement.

Next to keeping children, alive, clothed and fed, and sufficiently rested, waste management is one of the most dominant aspects of early parenthood. In fact, if you run the numbers, it may be THE most dominant aspect of early parenthood.

Today, I witnessed a mom asking a little boy if he needed to “go potty,” as he was grabbing his little pecker like he was trying to seal a leaky valve. I smiled and gave the mom a knowing nod. With daughters, 3 and 5, I’m forced to utter that same query more often than I ask my wife for sex. One of the most critical errors a dad can make is to leave a house, with daughters, forgetting to insist upon mandatory potty runs. As I have made this mistake numerous times in the past, I have finally ingrained the ritual deep enough that it’s on par with my other mandatory departure items: keys, cell phone, money clip, and emergency fruit snacks to use as currency when my parenting skills fail to handle some insanely ridiculous crisis. There is nothing worse, as a dad, to arrive at some destination, or worse yet, to still be on route, and have your daughter utter that inevitable phrase, “Daddy, I have to go potty.” The second those words become audible, a dad’s brain immediately says, “awe shit,” and then begins a Terminator-like scan to search for the least nasty men’s room in a quarter mile radius.

My favorite part of the whole excremental topic is how pervasive the word “potty” becomes in a grown man’s lexicon. Nothing displays one’s unfettered masculinity more than getting up from a poker table at guy’s night out and requesting to be dealt out because you have to “go potty” instead of simply stating in man-speak that you “have to take a piss.” That is inevitably followed by this dead giveaway that you’re a married man with children—even though you’re in your buddies basement and the bathroom with only be used be beer drinking men for the next 5 hours, you still put the seat down after relieving yourself. Oh, so sad. So sad, indeed.

There is a silver lining to this puffy, wet diaper of a cloud. As we men take much pride in our bowel movements, it’s always fascinating when you find a man-like floater careless abandoned in a vacant bathroom. As MRS likes to pretend she doesn’t even poop, she certainly would never commit such a blatant lack of decorum. After scanning the house for potential plumbers or handymen and finding none, I’m then faced with the reality that one of my angelic little princesses created the monstrous turd. This forces me to walk the delicate line that delineates pride and horror, and then comes the detective work to see which one of my girls was responsible for the creation. Usually it’s the more relaxed of the two as her energy was exhausted from the near impossible removal.

In conclusion, this new-aged dad, son of a father that has NEVER changed a diaper, continues to assume the duel role of manly hubby and caring nurturer—at least I try to. The reality is that before I know it, this whole potty discussion will be a thing of the past and I’ll be cowering in my office from three “simultaneously cycling” women. I’ll long for the days of changing dirty diapers and hastily rushing little ladies to the bathroom. And my solace will come from the knowledge that I’ll get my revenge in my old age as my daughters are forced to do the same for me. At least that’s the plan, assuming they don’t abandon me in some third rate, death’s waiting room, nursing home.

Damn, I better be nice to them.


Tuesday
02Sep

Be Careful What You Wish For

As a follow up to my last post (my tongue-in-cheek bitch-fest), please let it be known that I am now Lilly’s favorite. Unfortunately, she has chosen to display this new show of affection in a less than desirable way. The last few nights Lilly has made 3AM potty runs. Prior to the actual acts, she’s come to wake me up to inform me of said events.
  • One night it was simply to tell me she had gone potty, she needed no help, and she did not want me to put her back to bed—she would do it herself.
  • The next night she told me she had a bad dream, she was thinking about going potty, and she, again, needed no assistance from me.
  • Last night she insisted I get out of bed and take her to the potty because she was afraid to go alone, I was required to put her to bed, and two lullabies were required to complete the process.

Granted, I’m a bit road-weary today after three consecutive interrupted evenings, but the way I see it, a very clear choice has been made. I MUST be Lilly’s favorite or she would have at least woken MRS up one of those nights.

Since I’ve established a new found status as house favorite and I really need some sleep, I’ll be spending tonight and tomorrow night in a hotel—courtesy of a conveniently timed work trip. As I snicker at the thought of Lilly waking up MRS later tonight as a default do to my absence, I’m saddened by the real probability that Lilly will probably just sleep straight through the night. And karma will wake me up at 3 AM just to bust my balls.

Either way, we all had a great long weekend and I’d rather be home with them right now anyway. See you soon girls.


Thursday
28Aug

Stuck With You

Last night, Lilly so subtly said to me, “so we’re just stuck with you for one more day, right Daddy?” Ouch. That hurt.

MRS is out of town and obviously Lilly hasn’t read the chapter in the Daddy’s Little Girl Handbook explaining how I’m supposed to be the center of her universe. Despite her apparent weariness with me, we’ve actually had a very smooth time these last few days. But obviously, irrespective of the fun we’ve had, my precocious little 5-year-old is finding her dear old dad tiresome. Perhaps it’s her new found sophistication acquired since starting kindergarten. Perhaps it’s her increasing expressions of boredom that arise during any idle moments. Perhaps she’s anticipating me showing up to some future event wearing shorts, dress socks and sandals and she’s decided to get me used to being snubbed.

Whatever the reason, MRS has taken a three length lead in the McDad-house popularity horse race. The good news for me is that we’re just a few furlongs out of the gate. I have plenty of time to gain ground and I always suffer from slow starts. That being said, MRS is splattering my face with dirt as she sprints ahead.

Even my little Lulu—freshly turned 3 and deliverer of the best damn daddy hugs in the world—has been shunning me in favor of MRS in recent weeks. It’s bullshit. She and I are simpatico and she should at least have me even with MRS—really I should be Lulu’s clear cut favorite, but I’m not bitter.

At least Lola still favors me over the whole lot of them. Man’s best friend, indeed. I know my future very clearly and my future is as follows. My home will be overrun with three hormonally charged, menstru-exploding female-types and I will be cowering in my office with either Lola or my new dog (this scenario takes place in ten years or so, I don’t know if Lola will last that long). I’ll be 52 and MRS will be 49 and surely my sex-life will be even sadder than it is today. The girls will be far too cool to want to be seen in public with me. I will be inundated with more peace and quiet than I’ll know what to do with. Peace and quiet that I’d kill for today will most likely depress me in ten years.

I have no witty tie-up for the pathetic vent. I just feel the need to warn the McDad women that if I don’t become someone’s favorite soon I’m taking Lola and getting a bachelor pad. I put up with far too much drama, emotion, princess crap, PMS, and general female issues to be subjugated to second class citizenship. I have rights dammit! I will be someone’s favorite or else!

Is anyone listening to me?

Crap.


Monday
18Aug

FACES

Here’s a list of things I should have done tonight:

  • work
  • write
  • go to bed before 2am
  • anything mildly constructive
  • romance my wife
  • pull weeds in the back yard
  • finish the eleven unfinished projects I have around the house
  • finish the eleven unfinished books on my nightstand
  • overthrow the government and install myself as King

Here’s what I did instead:

  • I made faces. You may have noticed some of them on facebook, my sidebar, twitter, etc.
  • These are actually decent representations—if I was 32 instead of 42 and weighed 180 instead of 220.
  • And doesn’t MRS look hot? She is. Especially with her groovy new haircut.
MRS digs shades-

I don’t like shaving-

If I was a hip dude-

My look and demeanor when I have to shovel snow-

My look and demeanor when my girls behave-

My look and demeanor when I’m out on the town-


Thursday
14Aug

Pee-Pee Yin and Yang

Check out my new post over at Mile High Mamas and find out why nice guys miss airplanes. 

Wednesday
13Aug

The SHY GAME

Tomorrow is Lilly’s first day of kindergarten and, as you might imagine, she’s a little nervous. In dealing with prior situations like this in the past, MRS encouraged her to play the Shy Game. The Shy Game consists of Lilly approaching just one child and introducing herself. And one successful Shy Game introduction always results in a cool reward. So as we went to the Kindergarten intro day today and met the teacher and got the lay of the land, MRS prepped Lilly to play the Shy Game tomorrow when she starts big-girl school for real.

Since I’m so bad at following up when I’m tagged for stuff and I can certainly stand to meet more bloggers—I came up with this.

No strict rules—I dislike rules. But I’m doing mine this way, and I encourage as many people that want to play to either do the same or do something they like better.

play the SHY GAME


I’m picking 5 random (I’m literally going to close my eyes and pick from my reader) bloggers I know well, tagging them, and then I’m going to their blogroll to find 5 bloggers I don’t know well. Then they all get tagged with this post. Anyone reading this is free to dive right in and do the same.

I also encourage you all to pick out bloggers from the SHY GAME page that you don’t know and go check them out. 

Here we go: 

THE 5 I KNOW WELL:

greeblemonkey

View From The Cloud

Triple Venti

African American Dad

Honea Express

(Looks like I picked 4 dudes and only 1 lady….I better pick extra chicas next. Aimee…I know you can hand with the fellas up there. Don’t let them push you around.)

THE 5 I DON’T KNOW WELL:

Chicken and Cheese (from greeblemonkey, the chick that made me look like Clark Kent) Funny how chicken and cheese caught my eye. I didn’t have any dinner tonight.

Letters From The Third Grade (from View From That Really Cold City Up North—sorry Jeff, it’s not cold there yet, right?) First one that caught my eye from Jeff’s roll—maybe because 3rd grade was the last year I got straight A’s.

Sugar Mommy (from JayMonster and his slick wedding pic—check out my mans tight quaff at Triple Venti—sure, I’m bald and jealous, so what) Chose this one because we all need a Sugar Mommy. 

Rachel’s Tavern (from AAD, a man I share a weird bond with) I picked this blog because, well, I like Taverns—we all know this.

Backpacking Dad (from Honea Express’s mybloglog —Whit’s in my same boat as he sent Atticus off to Kindergarten) I like backpacks and I’m a dad, so I thought this was a good fit. 


Wednesday
06Aug

RADIO FREE MITCH - Skorts and Shorts

Here’s the newest podcast on RADIO FREE MITCH. Be afraid. Be very afraid.