Monday, August 30, 2010

(Father) Snuggie Dreams

BABY SNUGGIE!!!  I think this is what Lee Greenwood meant when he wrote - Proud To Be An American. Anyway, here is a link if you would like to join the fan club.

Lest you be led astray, this is not what the post is about. It isn’t even about my friend who thinks I look like this guy.

I used to be a DJ in College (which eventually led to one of the two blind dates I ever had) but it's not me.  It is about the stories I tell Beast and the one this morning I didn’t know I did.  Wait, I just heard Fire crying.  He is supposed to be sleeping while I was to take a shower from my work out 4 hours ago.  My stomache is still not "right" after that work out.  This puts me in a bind.  Immediately after writing a post I send it to be seen by internet people.  These internet people are just like you and me.  I have never started a post without finishing.  Even if it means withholding my sexual contractual obligations from Daisy.  What happens when I'm torn between two loves?  What do you think Mary MacGregor?

Gotta go.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

(Man/Husband) State Fair (Part I)

A couple of days ago I saw a billboard notifying all of our citizens the time has come for the State Fair to open its doors. I called the State Fair to let her know I was planning on coming. Here is a rough version as to what was said.

SF: (ring ring) Hello?

DG: Hey! It’s me, Goose.

SF: Uh, Goose?

DG: Yeah, y’know Dr. Goose. We see each other almost every year.

SF: Well, you’ll have to excuse me. I see almost 365,000 people every year.

DG: Well sure, but no one loves you as much as me.

SF: How so?

DG: There is the ever so popular Funtastic Carnival with Monster Truck Rides and Mechanical Bull Riding. And what about hot artists such as ZZ Top, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and Queensr├┐che coming to perform? These bands can’t be seen at just ‘ol casino down the road. Did you know "Queen of the Reich," is featured in the popular video game Grand Theft Auto: Vice City Stories? Don’t forget the Beef Cattle Show, Dairy Cattle Show, Sheep Show, Swine Show, Goat Show, Llama Show, and Milking Parlor Demonstrations. I always make sure I drink responsibly and to abide by all security and state police requests.

SF: You sound like a commercial.

DG: (sigh) OK listen…….I love you because you were the reason I touched Belinda Carlisle’s hand. It was you that assisted me in talking to the hottest 8th grader in the school because she was running the snow cone machine. When she asked what flavor I didn’t miss a beat, “Watermellon” I said. “Oh (giggle giggle) that’s my favorite too.” It was almost as if the State Fair’s spirit….excuse me, your spirit was flowing through my veins that night. And the rides? Oh goodness those twirly rides. When I tried to collect my change after the ride was over and that Carnival guy yelled at me saying something like, “Any change on the ground is MY change!” Well, I figured the change that fell out of my pockets that magical evening was worth every spin. And oh yes, how could I have not remembered the animals! The sheep testicles are always quite impressive. Maybe that’s why those pills sell so well on the internet. Sure the cow dung and pig p*ss were hard to ignore given the smell and splattering on my flip flops and bare legs. But that is the very essence of who you are.

SF: Go on.

(Man/Husband) State Fair (Part II)

DG: The food! The….the….the…brick of fries that weighs 2 pounds before the deep frying and 5 pounds after. The corn dogs that have more breading than mystery meat. The ribs, cotton candy, teriyaki chicken skewers, chocolate and vanilla ice cream swirls. What more can I say? The people!!!! The people watching is the best part. Some of these people have not left their house since the last time they came to see you. I have never seen so many tattoos in my life! And some of those tattoos came straight from a booth less than 20 yards away for as low as $29.99. And if you refer a friend you get half off of the next tattoo (though not the same day mind you). What about the families who dress exactly the same or the teenagers making out underneath the bleachers of the concert stadium. Shirtless men and women in bikini tops. People carrying overpriced and overstuffed animals that are bigger than them. Where are they going to store it? And how many times did they have to shell out 5 bucks for every basketball they would then try to get into a small rim 15 feet high off the ground in order to win the darn thing. The invisible pet with a collar you carry around along with the pink spray painted cowboy hat with an added bonus of outrageous watermelon shaped sunglasses with black seeds, green rind, and red flesh color on the rims. You only see those at your palace. And after a hard day of walking around for hours you can always settle into a chair that will shake your feet until they are numb while holding a cold 12 oz Bud Light in a plastic cup that sells for $3.50.

SF: Goose?

DG: (panting) Yes?

SF: (voice cracking) I knew who you were before I even answered.

DG: I don’t unders…

SF: I have caller ID.

DG: Oh.

SF: I jus…..(silent weeping) I just didn’t understand why you didn’t come back for those 5 years.

DG: I was in Colorado.

SF: Did you go to its State Fair.

DG: No!

SF: What about other fairs? County, city, rodeos, Staurday markets…..

DG: Do we really have to…..


(Man/Husband) State Fair (Part III)

DG: How many details do you need to move past this? How many? Do you want me to say I thought of you every time I went to a fair. Because I didn’t. I was in my own world at the time. I was in a selfish phase and had forgotten who had helped make me the person I was. I’m sorry OK? I honestly didn’t know if you had missed me. You had so many other suitors. Remember that 4-H guy Tom?

SF: Oh come on, we were only friends.

DG: That’s what you say now. (Pause) Do you ever think of the incident?

SF: (whispering) yes.

DG: I was walking up to the ride with my wife.

SF: Do you really have to do this?

DG: Yes I do. I was walking up the ramp and saw my aunt who was running the ride. I hadn’t seen her in ten years. She looked ragged and tired. I was surprised when she recognized me. “Gooooooooooose!” She yelled.  It was Aunt Cauliflower alright. I’m not even sure anybody had heard from her in years. She was never mentioned at Thanksgiving meals unless in hushed tones. Dad saw her name written on a bathroom wall a couple of times but that was it. “Should I go on this ride?” I asked you. Should I take the risk with Aunt Cauliflower at the helm? The person I cared most about was by my side and I didn’t want to put her in harm’s way. The ride began to look more rickety and rusty by the second.  I even saw a missing bolt or two. Then I heard a voice.

SF: That’s enough.

DG: No that’s not enough. It was your voice. The voice said, “Give her a second chance. Maybe she is clean now. It’ll be so much fun.” I looked at my worried bride and said, “I have from good sources that this will be great!” And she believed me State Fair. And I believed you.

SF: I was jealous. I meant no harm.

DG: But you did harm. All I remember were bloodcurdling screams fading into more bloodcurdling screams. With vomit sprayed on my face and tears running down my cheeks I begged for mercy but mercy never came. Then my eyes opened to see a bright light in front of me. I heard a voice. “God?” I said.

(Man/Husband) State Fair (Part IV)


“Where am I?”

“In my care.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Nurse Jesus, will you help me out with this bandage?”

“Right away Dr. Gob”

I shot up like a bolt of lightning. “Where is Daisy?”

“Just rest now son.” I grabbed him by his stethoscope.

"Where is she?"

“The Psych Ward! Now let go of me.”

“The Psych Ward?”

“She suffered a lot of trauma. They have her on a very powerful sedative.”

SF: Aunt Cauliflower wasn’t very good at her job.

DG: It wasn’t Aunt Cauliflower’s fault it was yours.

SF: Your right. I’m sorry. Has Daisy recovered?

DG: Nobody ever told her about it.

SF: She doesn’t remember?

DG: Fortunately all she knows is we bought Cotton Candy and went home.

SF: We have been through a lot together haven’t we Goose?

DG: Yeah, can we come see you this year? I have two children now.

SF: I’ll leave the tickets at gate D.

DG: I’ll see you there.

SF: You know where to find me.

DG: I’ll always love you…..despite everything that has happened.

SF: I know.

DG: Bye

SF: Goodbye.


Monday, August 23, 2010

(Man) Authors

It is difficult to find time to read blogs rather than write my own.  Sunday and Monday seem to be the only days I have time to write a blog so I want to spend my time creating and not reading. Even more so when I feel my blog isn't worth a sack of crap since there are so many talented writers weaving their words together like an orchestra creating beautiful music.  However, I find people have interesting lives and are able to put the reader in a position to actually see the story through their eyes.  I have heard these author bloggers say, "hearing your voice" to other writers.  I have now found a few blogs where I enjoy the voice of the author and how they explain the most simple of events.  Two writers can write about the same subject matter but I may like one over the other.  Both are good writers just like there can be two great guitar players playing the same piece of music.  I guess it just comes down to a matter of taste and if more people relate to one voice than another.  I have also found some blogs have more followers but aren't necessarily better in writing or in content than other blogs that have fewer followers.  That doesn't mean writers who have large numbers don't deserve their following.  It simply means there are hidden gems who have not been found or who don't do a good job of promoting/marketing themselves.  Beyond all of that I have come to appreciate every book that has ever been written.  These writers go through the ringer trying to get their books published.  And the majority of time writing 8-10 books before the first publication if any.  A lot of time and stress spent creating something that may never be seen.  I take my hat off to any writers who may be reading.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

(Human) Olfactory Nostalgia

It is first important to understand the physiology of olfaction. The primary olfactory cortex, in which higher-level processing of olfactory information takes place, forms a direct link with the amygdala and the hippocampus. Only two synapses separate the olfactory nerve from the amygdala, which is involved in experiencing emotion and also in emotional memory (Herz & Engen, 1996). In addition, only three synapses separate the olfactory nerve from the hippocampus, which is implicated in memory, especially working memory and short-term memory. Olfaction is the sensory modality that is physically closest to the limbic system, of which the hippocampus and amygdala are a part, and which is responsible for emotions and memory. Indeed this may be why odor-evoked memories are unusually emotionally potent (1996).


Nostalgia is often triggered by something reminding the individual of an event or item from their past. The resulting emotion can vary from happiness to sorrow. The term of "feeling nostalgic" is more commonly used to describe pleasurable emotions associated with and/or a longing to go back to a particular period of time.

Yesterday I was at an Outlet Mall with 5,000 of my closest friends. Beast and Fire were on a Dumbo ride tucked into a corner of the sidewalk between Reebok and…….I think it may have been something like Dress Barn. Anyway, I can’t even describe the smell and can’t even describe the memory. What I do remember is feeling happy. I recognized this happiness and felt sad I couldn’t go back and experience that feeling since it left as soon as it had come upon me. As strange as it may sound I then felt angry. Not because I couldn’t go back to that feeling but because, just for a second, I longed to be back in a situation of the past. I don’t like mourning losses because I feel as if my nostalgia means I don’t want to be in the present or are not looking forward to my future. Losses of good times and regrets of the bad. Looking back and expecting our child selves to have the adult logic, boundaries, or behavior we now carry.
Sing it Eddie:

Ironically, as a Psychologist I assist in bringing forth feelings from the past that may weigh heavy upon the shoulders of the individual. If, as children, we were not taught healthy coping skills we will revert to defense mechanisms that simply helped us survive (psychologically) to whatever situation we were in. Defense mechanisms are not always a bad thing. But, as adults, we may still carry with us defense mechanisms we no longer need anymore. So, in learning healthy coping skills the client may need to go back and work through, not around, difficult parts of our lives. A lot of people I meet say, “I feel like I shouldn’t be here because I was never molested or beaten.” And then the person who has been molested or beaten may say, “I’m not starving like the people in Haiti.” Yes, there will always be someone out there who has it worse.  Listen, many things add up to become a powerful force in our lives. It is disrespectful to yourself to undermine their effects. You might say, “It’s in the past, there is nothing I can do about it now” or “The past is what has made me who I am and I like who I am”. Yes, you are a good person. But isn’t there that one memory that sticks with you like a sliver in your brain? You spend a lot of energy being busy so you don’t think about it or you don’t do anything and think about it too much?  It's not going to go away.  Not on its own.  Some say counseling is for the weak and it's a crutch.  Believe me, if someone comes in truly honest with themselves they will leave feeling emotionally exhausted.  It's not for the faint of heart.

So now you say, Dr. Goose, what is your point? I think the preacher who pounds the pulpit in a certain area creates a sermon they need to listen to. So in that sense I need some counseling. Hhhhhhhmmmmmm……….well, I don’t have the time, money, or energy. Besides, how could I trust a stranger? Maybe later when it becomes a real problem.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

(Man) Truckin' I

Daisy said I need to start including pictures on my blog.  Eye candy you might say.  Well, here is a picture of what I used to drive about 11 yrs. ago.  I worked out of the Denver International Airport haulin' freight to and from Ft. Collins (where Fat Tire is brewed).

Trucking School was 4 weeks in Blythville Arkansas. FedEx contracted with a local trucking school that hired some of the best human beings to ever walk the planet. There were others, like my instructor, that could have used a few hours of people skills training in a school for a**holes. My group got him fired but we didn't need much help. We drove old beater retired FedEx trucks that still had the FedEx logo on the side. Not good for FedEx's image to have someone yelling at other vehicles and hanging his middle finger out of their truck. But that was not what ultimately got him fired. We traveled around to different states and would stop to eat. Imagine 20 FedEx trucks going down the highway playing follow the leader. Our group finished eating and our instructor came back from the bathroom to say, "Let's go. I already paid the bill." He had not paid the bill. Other FedEx members at the truck stop came looking for reimbursement.

When I say our group I'm talking about 5 guys who were in their mid twenties. We were an anomaly because the waiting list for FedEx drivers was usually quite long. Truckers who were tired of going over the road without good benefits wanted to settle down and be home every night. In Memphis it was a 5 yr waiting list which meant you slung packages for that time. Not many people were willing to do it. Our cast of characters included a Quebec Canadian, an LA guy who told us stories about his penis, a recent convert to Christianity who didn't drink but still loved to jive with the ladies and blues on Beale street, TN, and a man from the South who had two kids already. Then me. Just plain ol' me.

1) Canada felt like it was his job to tell us how arrogant Americans were throughout our time together. "That's so American" was his favorite line. I couldn't disagree with him on many points but watching movies was bad because most of the guys who saved the world from destruction were Americans. He had served in the Canadian army and had a Maple leaf tattooed to his chest. But he was our French speaking Canadian and we loved him. I remember spraining his ankle to the point where he unsure if he could drive and finish the program. He was not happy with me. He was also the first to wreck his truck when he went back to his homeland. Ran over a GEO.

2) LA was a great to listen to. We each had our separate room he knew the phone number to. "Wakey Wakey Eggs and Bakey" is what I listened to every morning. He told us stories about how he and his penis went out together as natural as you would tell someone you mowed your yard. He would tell us about going to a bar and asking his penis what he wanted to drink or what he was thinking about. He would then proceed to tell us what his penis said. At the end of the 4 week span we were so used to it he had to make the stories ten times ridiculous in the last week together. The last one I remember was when he got an STD.

3) Christian really saved my butt on a few occasions. Minutes after we all met LA wanted to go watch a porno. I didn't want to and wasn't sure how I would talk my way out of it. Christian worked in the same station as LA and in no uncertain terms told him that was not going to happen. I also had a friend to hang out with at the bars who was not interested in getting hammered. He was one good looking dude so he made up for it in dance partners.

(Man) Truckin' II

4) Family Man and I drove to his home for a weekend which was about 5 hours away. The conversations I had with him still stick with me today. He had a thick Southern accent and once asked if his accent was as bad as our instructors. We didn't know what to say. We had no idea what he said for the first few days because it was so thick. We just nodded and smiled until we developed Family Man voice hearing. The man was so in love with his wife it shamed me. He took his kids fishing and was so incredibly patient with them. I spent most of that day playing Frisbee with his aunt who was a lesbian. Why do I mention she was a lesbian? I say "was" because she dropped dead that day from a heart attack. I'm kidding. I don't know. I'll have to do some thinking as to why I felt compelled to mention her sexual preference. Thank you for challenging my thinking.

5) Me? Well one of the highlights was the Walmart in town. I bought a toy semi and put a quarter on top as the steering wheel. It helped me learn how to back a truck from a variety of angles. I also am proud of the fact I talked to my wife for as long as I wanted. During our first meeting we were told we only had 15 minutes a night to make a long distance phone call. I asked them how they knew how long the calls were. She spent 2 seconds fumbling her words and came up with something. Too late. I already knew it was an empty threat. I needed the time to talk to Daisy anyway. We had only been married a few months.

On the last day we placed bets on who would wreck first. 70% of semi truck wrecks are in backing and most of those wrecks are in the first 6 months of driving. Canada wrecked the GEO and then I ran over a pizza delivery guy on some back streets. Not with my semi or else he would have died. It was in a pup trailer I was transporting to another station and blew a stop sign because I was thinking too hard about how to get unlost. I totalled a 50 thousand dollar vehicle, was demoted to transporting freight around the airplanes with a tug, and eventually found a job caring for the Developmentally Disabled. To be honest I would have stuck with the job for a long time. Including my drive to the airport I listened to books on tape for about 8 hours a day, 5 days a week for a year. I was up for a raise and had excellent benefits but fate ran its course as it always seems to do.

Maybe I'll drive a truck after retirement. But until I do I want all of you to know the "bail out" hills full of gravel that Semi's use to stop are not because they may blow a tire. It's because a trucker will use a high gear with the brake as the main stopping force instead of a lower gear when going down a mountain. The amount of weight the brake has to be applied to keep the load from pushing forward, in some cases, will literally burst the rubber into flames. If you smell burnt rubber and see a truck with steam on his tires then don't get in front of them. They may have also lost air pressure from using the brakes too much. It takes a while to build that air back up again. In fact, as a general rule, stay away from trucks going too fast down any mountain or hill.

(Husband) Grief I

Update: The frontal lobes are considered our emotional control center and home to our personality. There is no other part of the brain where lesions can cause such a wide variety of symptoms (Kolb & Wishaw, 1990). The frontal lobes are involved in motor function, problem solving, spontaneity, memory, language, initiation, judgement, impulse control, and social and sexual behavior.

A friend of mine read this post and jokingly said I am constantly "borrowing" Daisy's frontal lobes. In other words, Daisy helps me make better decisions because she acts as my conscious. When left alone with my own frontal lobe functions I make poor decisions such as the phone calls I made to her. Read and see if she is right.

I have a private practice in two different cities a half hour apart. One part I love about it is I get to wear the same outfit twice a week.

Side note: There was a banging sound on Beast’s door just now so I went to investigate.

“What are you doing? Are you hitting the door?”

“No, I’m kicking it.”

“No more kicking OK?”


I came back to the computer and heard it again. I went back to his room.

“Beast, I said no more kicking.”

“But I was hitting it with my head. Is that better?”


Anyway, I see clients in the town I do not live in from 10 am until 10 pm and have an 8 am client the next day with my last client ending at 8 pm. I was going to stay the night at a friend’s house who lives in that town and come back to my home late the next day. Daisy left to visit her folks at the same time I left to go to work and was going to spend two nights there with the kids. I knew she was climbing a mountain out of cell phone range and would be able to leave obnoxious messages on her voicemail. I decided to go through the stages of grief with my messages. Unfortunately my office doesn’t have Internet access and I left my cell phone at home so I just kept calling from a land line when I had time between sessions. Daisy said I left almost 30 minutes worth of messages over two days so I’ll abbreviate.

1. Denial – "I feel fine."; "This can't be happening, not to me."

(Beep) Daisy, I just wanted you to know I’m doing great. Work is wonderful. I can’t wait to see my next client because I really feel like we are connecting and he is beginning to trust me. I’m going to get a burger for lunch at this great place and have a little bit of time to read this book I have wanted to start for a couple of weeks now. I hope you are enjoying the mountain and the kids are having fun at Grandma’s.

(Husband) Grief II

2. Anger – "Why me? It's not fair!"; "How can this happen to me?"; "Who is to blame?"

(Beep) Hey. My colleagues are telling me I’m a little grumpy and have been trying to cheer me up. You know how I hate when people try to cheer me up. Hey listen, I’m beginning to feel as if you may be having more fun without me and if that is one reason why you decided to go when I couldn’t. I know I’m not incredibly healthy but if given the chance I could prove you wrong on that mountain. Our Administrative Assistant said she and her husband do all kinds of things together. Here I am working working and wondering if you met some guy on the trail who you are now hiking beside for the next 4 hours. Oh sure, it feels innocent enough. He starts out complimenting your “equipment” and then it takes off from there. You dab yourself with a towel and he asks for your number. You blush/giggle and say, “Oh I really couldn’t.”

“Yes you can.”

“No really.”





When you get off the mountain I want you to put him on the phone or else I’ll be checking your phone and e-mail for any sign of voice or text messages! Do you hear me? Do you?!?

3. Bargaining – "Just let me live to see my children graduate."; "I'll do anything for a few more years."; "I will give my life savings if..."

(Beep) Daisy listen. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh in the last message. I just care so much about you that I loose my mind sometimes. You know how I am sometimes? Y’know? Just a little wacky. Why don’t we go out to dinner when you get back. I’ll even treat you to some ice cream at Dairy Queen afterwards. We can always karaoke or do some line dancing. Wait, that was someone else who liked those things. Anyway, what does it really matter. We just need some time with just you and me ok? Let me make it up to you.

4. Depression – "I'm so sad, why bother with anything?"; "I'm going to die... What's the point?"; "I miss my loved one, why go on?"

(Beep) I know you aren’t coming back tonight. It finally hit me after I ate lunch today. I’m going to show up at an empty house and be all alone. Sitting in a chair feeling beat down and slightly confused over this whole situation. I don’t know, on paper it didn’t seem so bad. Theoretically it was a great idea. But I had forgotten the emptiness and pain I feel when I lay in our bed late at night and know the woman laying next to me isn’t you. This may sound contrived but.........

(Husband) Grief III

No April rain
No flowers bloom
No wedding Saturday within the month of June
But what it is, is something true
Made up of these three words that I must say to you

I just called to say I love you
I just called to say how much I care
I just called to say I love you
And I mean it from the bottom of my heart

Goodbye Daisy. Goodbye. Goodbye. (whispering now) goodbye.

5) Acceptance – "It's going to be okay."; "I can't fight it, I may as well prepare for it."

I didn’t make it to this part. I got off of work, stopped by the corner market to buy a six pack of 16 oz Rolling Rock beer in a can for 5 dollars. I drive up to our house and our car was in the driveway. “What the hell?”

I walk in the door to see Daisy at the top of the stairs staring at me as if she had seen a ghost. “Did I scare you?” I said.

“Just don’t do that ever again.”

I thought it was a bit of an overreaction but sure, I could come into the house a little quieter. Daisy let me know very soon after that she came home early because she thought I was being passive aggressive in my jokes and really wanted she and the boys to come back early.

I was flabbergasted and defensive. “Are you kidding? How long have you known me Daisy? We have been together 14 years and you don’t know my sense of humor yet? Look, I have white trash beer and was going to Red Box in a bit. I was going to have a blast.” I then found out she had called mutual friends to ask them if they had heard from me because she was unable to reach me at the office (our phones had already gone to the answering service).

My cell phone rang and it was our answering service telling me I had a client at the ER and needed to call him. I went upstairs, talked to him, and everything turned out fine. When I was coming back downstairs Daisy was on the phone asking her friend if she had overreacted. Evidently her friend, Shyamalan (Rhino’s wife), said my jokes are dry and she can’t always tell when I am kidding. Daisy and Shyamalan concluded I have absolutely no hidden meaning/manipulation behind anything I ever say. Although any Psychologist worth their salt would disagree, I think it’s safe to assume they are right.

Now it's time for you to weigh in.  What percentage of frontal lobe function do I have?

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

(Husband) Elevator Man

I have heard that giving birth is slightly uncomfortable and having the right kind of people surrounding you helps in the process.  For Beast's birth we had a female friend with us who was a labor and delivery nurse named Black Crow.  I asked Daisy if there was any man, besides me, who she would feel comfortable enough to invite in as a VIP.

“Not really.”

“What if you had to choose at least one man.”

“Maybe Rhino.”

“That’s a cop out because he is a doctor.”

“Well let’s change the context and it will be easier. There is no man I would actually invite into the birthing room but if I were stuck in an elevator giving birth and had to choose a guy I might choose……um…….Bran Flakes.”




“Because he is a guy who would focus on accomplishing the task without feeling awkward in an awkward situation. He also would never speak of it to anyone unless given my permission first.”

“That makes sense. Can I tell him?”


I tried to think of another question but instead remembered I was in the top five people her sister would invite into the birthing room if the first four were unable to come. I think it was her husband, her mom, her best friend, her best friend’s mom, and then me. There was no way in hell I was going into that room because the first four would have to be caged somewhere in the armpit of the world (think of where that place might be for you). I believe I was number seven but worked into the fifth spot because the fifth and sixth people lived in different states. Somebody asked her (probably Daisy) why me.

“Because he is a doctor.”

“Of Clinical Psychology not Medicine!”

“Maybe he could calm me down.”

I thought that was a good argument. Now that I think of it maybe I was number nine out of ten.  No matter.  What male would you invite into the delivery room, or elevator, and why?  Now that I think about it, what male would I feel comfortable having in the room.  I guess guys can weigh in too.

Monday, August 9, 2010

(Father) Poo


It was ironic one of my relatives wrote about poo on her blog today I had an experience this afternoon that concerned the same subject.

I will make it quick.

Took off Fire's pants so he could go pee in the toilet. Had to run to get coffee out from under espresso maker. Saw an ant coming out from underneath espresso maker. Squashed it. Saw another. Squashed it. Became suspicious and lifted espresso maker. 50 ants making themselves comfortable. None escaped alive. Slid out water collector and looked inside. Colony. Threw espresso maker into the sink and soaked it. Looked back at counter and saw escapees carrying white things in mouth (eggs?). I gagged. Pound fist on counter. Squash squash squash. Beast comes into kitchen.

"Fire pooped on his bed"

"What?!?" I run into room. Poop on floor, in bed, on blankets, and in hands. Fire is laughing. "Oh sh*t!"

"Oh sh*t"

"Dear God!"

"Dear God"

"Stop repeating what I say Beast! Stop laughing Fire." Pick up Fire and put him down on tile floor in bathroom. Poop on foot now on floor. Throw him into shower and turn on. Crying because it is cold. Shove handle toward hot. Crying because of scalding water. Spray down.

"I want in the shower."


"I want in the shower!"

"Fine!" Throw Beast in.

Cleaning up poop on carpet (Awesome Power Spray) and tile. Strip sheets and throw in washer. Hear Fire screaming. Rush to bathroom and fling open shower door. Shampoo everywhere and Fire holding eyes.

"Did it get in his eyes Beast?!?"


I flip Fire on his back and start flushing eyes. Flailing arms and legs, choking, spitting, crying, you name it. Drag both boys out of shower dripping wet. Poop towel no longer an option. Rush to get a clean one and came back to both boys in the fetal position and Goosebumps. Throw shorts on both and send them outside. Consider locking door so they don't come in. Clean up water in bathroom, scrub and wipe up Awesome Power Spray, and begin vacuuming. Fire and Beast come into room. "Go away guys, this is a poopy room."

"But it's Fire's room, not yours."

"It's mine now. Go." Turn on TV.

"Is this going to be a naked movie?"

"What are you talking about?" I decide to talk to Daisy later. Turn on Alice and Wonderland cartoon (kinda creepy). Find clothes and slap them on. Had to cut off Fire at 4 bowls of Cheerios. He fell on the floor and wailed. Tackled Beast to take away his granola bar. Took off shirt soaked in milk and took him to bed. Nice and quiet lunch with Beast and took him to quiet time. Finished this post just in time. Gotta go.

I love you all.

(Man) Stevie Nicks

Can anyone be more beautiful than 1987 Stevie Nicks?  This link takes you to a concert clip where she sings "Seven Wonders".  The eye shadow, the shiny lipstick, the gloves, and please do not overlook the hair (how can you not?).  She looks into the camera a couple of times as if to say, "I like you Goose".  A couple of slow motion shots, the dark brown eyes, and the smoky voice left me politely asking for more.  I hope you have the same experience.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

(Man) Revenge

If you are seeking revenge toward a friend or family member I would suggest sending them this e-mail.  It worked in ruining my relationship so I thought it would help any of you who are looking to save time.  Feel free to change any part of this to fit your situation.  Good luck and God bless.

Dear Rhino,

Your threats have no effect on me because of a force field I have developed over the past ten years. I'm not going to give away its secrets but it involves a ham sandwich, smoke bomb, jellyfish and several liters of Gatorade. Do you know why I built this force field? Because in Jr. High I was the only guy who wore a New Kids on the Block T-shirt to school. And guess what? The sticks they beat me with and the stones they threw at me in fact broke my bones. And the words they used actually hurt me. From that day forward I knew a time like this would eventually come and I would then be prepared to deflect onslaughts of foul language and antagonism as well as create an abusive offensive attack. I did not know what kind of insults or who they might come from. How was I ever to know that someone would be you?

For as long as I have known you I have never had an inkling of dislike toward your character. I thought we shared a deep respect for one another but now I know it is not true. Eventually the truth unveils itself and the darkness comes into the light. It reveals an unattractive, distasteful, and repugnant odor that smells of sour milk, rotten eggs, dog breath, and fish that has been left out in the Florida heat and humidity for 36 hours. I had not anticipated your verbal abuse. At the moment of your attack I found there was no limit to where you would strike and what kind of lethal venom you would choose from in your vast repertoire of evil.

I feel it is only fair to warn you that you have set off a chain of events that will now lead to your ultimate destruction. The bowels of Hades have opened and the wolves of hell have been unleashed. Their mouths are parched and their appetite for your soul is overpowering and ultimately devastating. In due course the blood in your veins will run cold as the shadows of the night envelop your feelings with hopelessness and apprehension. Your mind will ruminate upon your transgressions as sleep escapes you. You will cry out for understanding but it will not approach you. You will howl for forgiveness but it will not be given. You will beg for compassion and implore me for acceptance but I will desecrate you.

Welcome to the future inevitability of your existence!!

In case you are curious, this friend had not called me back in what I considered a timely manner. I called again and left a message saying something like, “I’m going to vandalize your ass with my foot.” When he e-mailed me back he made excuses saying something about a wife, kids, and 12 hour work days…..blah...blah…blah. I called him out on being a horrible excuse for a doctor saying something to the effect of, “Instead of saving lives how about saving our friendship you dumb non-friend.”

He wrote back and said, “I am not afraid of you little girly man.” That was all I needed in order to write my letter. He insulted my manhood and that’s just plain uncalled for. His comment to me were out of bounds right? Daisy said I went too far and I should have toned it down a notch or two. I simply wanted to make a point that would ensure he didn’t say those mean things to me again.  What do you think?  Too strong or did I go too easy on him?

Thursday, August 5, 2010


1) When my children say, “I want to help you.” it actually means, “Whatever you are doing will now take twice as long.”

2) Oprah is now against text messaging in cars and says we shouldn’t do it. Fair enough. But I think it is just as bad to have children in the back seat. I don’t know how many times I have reached back to pick up a blanket that has been dropped or to wipe a snotty nose or hand back a sippy cup full of water. Y’know why there isn’t a law against reaching back to grab the feet that are kicking the back of your seat? Because all the parents would cry, “You want us to neglect our kids!” And we would be wrong because Fire would live if he doesn’t have his action figure that is on the passenger seat. It’s just that I wouldn’t want to live if he didn’t have his action figure that is on the passenger seat.

3) Now that I am a parent I can understand the temptation of wanting to arrange a marriage. We have friends that are smart, good looking, athletic and musically talented. They have daughters we would guess could turn out similarly. Wouldn’t it be great if we could all be one big happy family? At least that would be my pitch to them. Because today I saw Beast at soccer practice picking his nose on the sideline and refusing to kick a ball. Simply put, I want to give him the best opportunity to marry over his head and not get stuck with some crack whore. Not that there is anything wrong with crack whores. I apologize to any of you if you are a crack whore or who would like to become a crack whore. I just think Thanksgiving could be a bit uncomfortable. Now I’m just thinking of myself right? Well fine. Go ahead and marry a crack whore Beast! I don’t care! It’s all about love right? Your god given American freedom to choose your partner can be shoved up your ass for all I care!

4) I just wanted to remind everyone that if you pass a church in the next couple of weeks and they are advertising VBS, it is not an STD recovery group. It stands for Vacation Bible School.

5) I complain about my kid’s misbehavior a lot but I have good times too. They are little mosquitoes sometimes and it is very cute. I will walk up the stairs to grab something and as I’m coming back down they are on their way up to see me. “Awwww, they want to be with me.” I say. But other times they are zombies who are following me with their, “Uuuuuugggggghhhhh” sounds with an appetite for destroying my brain with confusing questions. I’ll hide in my room but soon will see these grubby fingers underneath the door trying to pry themselves in. Their fingernails are long and dirty so I feel embarrassed about having not taken care of that problem before now. Suddenly the power goes out and the phone stops working. Daisy hasn’t come home like she said she would and I start to have a panic attack. Right when I’m about to jump out the window, I hear the door slam and little feet prancing down the stairs. I hear, “Why aren’t you down here with the children?”

I crack the door open, “I’m scared”.

“You are an adult and they are children who weigh no more than 40 lbs each.” I come slowly down the stairs to see their innocent grins that tell me, “Just wait until you are sleeping old man.” A shiver down my spine lets me know my soul has not yet been taken................but soon will be.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

(Husband) Beautiful

This song is so romantic that I couldn't help but share it with all of you.

Confederate Railroad Lyrics for "Trashy Women"

Well, I was raised in a sophisticated kind of style.
Yeah, my taste in music and women drove my folks half wild.
Mom and Dad had a plan for me,
It was debutantes and er-symphonies,
But I like my music hot and like my women wild.

Yeah, an' I like my women just a little on the trashy side,
When they wear their clothes too tight and their hair is dyed.
Too much lipstick an' er too much rouge,
Gets me excited, leaves me feeling confused.
An' I like my women just a little on the trashy side.

You should've seen the looks on the faces of my Dad and Mom,
When I showed up at the door with a date for the senior prom.
They said: "Well, pardon us, son, she ain't no kid.
That's a cocktail waitress in a Dolly Parton wig."
I said: "I know it, dad. Ain't she cool, That's the kind I dig."

Yeah, an' I like my women just a little on the trashy side,
When they wear their clothes too tight and their hair is dyed.
Too much lipstick an' er too much rouge,
Gets me excited, leaves me feeling confused.
An' I like my women just a little on the trashy side.

I like 'em sweet, I like 'em with a heart of gold.
Yeah an' I like 'em brassy, I like 'em brazen and bold.
Well, they say that opposites attract, well, I don't agree
I want a woman just as tacky as me.
Yeah, I like my women just a little on the trashy side.

Yeah, an' I like my women just a little on the trashy side,
When they wear their clothes too tight and their hair is dyed.
Too much lipstick an' er too much rouge,
Gets me excited, leaves me feeling confused.
An' I like my women just a little on the trashy side.
Yeah, I like my women an' I like 'em on the trashy side.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

(Father) Wine because of whine

I’m not drunk but I’m about to be. First off, this computer is not my friend. Second, it was a rough day with the kids. When is it not you ask? That is a good question. Let me start by saying…..

I don’t think I am the only person in the world who would like a good return on their investment. Money, time, and good health (self care) are the things we don’t have enough of and would like to be rewarded for anything we might do to increase the above things. Or at least feel as if the investment of money, time, and a sacrifice of self care was worth it. With that in mind, I have no qualms about saying I make investments into my kids (except when it doesn’t suit me). Sounds simple enough. But when I take them out to do special things I would like them to appreciate it. For instance, if I say, “Who wants to go to Dairy Queen” and hear a loud “YEAH!!” from the back seat I feel as if I am the best dad in the world. But when we get our overpriced Blizzard and I split it between the two I become unhappy very quickly.

“Fire got more than me”, “I don’t want a red spoon”, “Don’t want booster”, “Napkin!”

And I say, “Please sit down Fire”, “I can’t take out all the chocolate pieces Beast”, “Do you not want the ice cream ‘cause I can just throw it away.”

I walk out of Dairy Queen wondering what the whole point of the outing was. I just wanted to sit down, eat sweets, and talk about Star Wars. Daisy has said in the past, “Congratulations! If they weren’t acting as a normal 4 yr old and 2 yr old there would be a problem.” It’s true. Even during the moment of frustration I might picture them sleeping and being all cute and non whiny. And it is at that moment I wonder why I can’t be more patient. And then they wake up and I remember rather quickly. Don’t get me wrong, I laugh with them a lot. It is my own expectation and perception I need to work on.

Daisy was walking off the field from her indoor soccer game when one of her teammates said, “If I had to go back for a day I would want to be with my 2 and 4 yr old boys again.” Everyone smiled knowingly.

“Why?” I said.

“Well, my kids are now 17 and 19. They get hurt emotionally and all I want to do is hug them and say it will be ok. But they don’t want my hugs anymore. I can’t comfort them the way I used to when all they needed was my soothing voice and embracing arms to make everything better.”

“Oh.” I responded. I had to admit that was pretty good. After a day where I throw my hands up in the air and say, “I don’t care if you have the red cup and want the blue one. I’m not going to repour the milk.” Daisy will put her arm around me and say,

“You’re a good dad. They love you.” And it’s true they do love me and tell me that. Especially when I’m grumpy. I think it is their way of saying, “Are we still friends?” Their whining are like fingernails on a chalkboard but it is my job to socialize them so they don’t approach their boss and wife in the future and whine, “It’s not fair.” Well, maybe they will but at least it will be in a more sophisticated manner.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

(Man) Locking Horns

My friend sent me this in jest.  But, just in case I was wrong, I decided to proselytize him.


Dr. Goose,

I took some time to read through your blog on the Sabbath no less, and must say I was deeply offended. I find your humor deeply offensive and not suitable for keen minds like my own. I choose not to embrace such frivolous thinking and, instead, opt for more civilized thinkers such as Kant, Durkheim, and Marx. It seems to me Dr. Goose deals with some serious issues. Perhaps some reading of Freud on Oedipus Complex-ing might be appropriate. The behavior described in the blog regarding pranking and childhood foolishness reveals some serious concerns. I might suggest that Dr. Goose consider dealing with these issues through some good supervision. I might also recommend drinking tea and jumping...naked...on your front porch. This, I have found, has maturing power for all my clients.


Mr. Tap,

I'm deeply sorry for inviting you into my darkness. I too have a deep disgust in regard to what my mind thinks about. And what is more disgusting is I want others to take steps into my private hell by reading my filth and passing it along to their friends. Maybe some will shake their heads in confusion. Maybe some will chuckle in an, "I'm embarrassed for him" sort of way. Some may laugh but feel dirty afterward. Like they have been taken advantage of. But maybe, just maybe, there will be a person who connects with what I say. Who appreciates a man with an open mind and soul. Willing to bare all for those who choose to be equally vulnerable. Then, and only then, will I feel together with the universe. Not a complete monster like you suggest but a peaceful river that flows into every consciousness of man. Who jumps on his front porch naked. Not because he has to or has been told to but because he wants and desires to for the good of all people. May I also recommend something Mr. Tap? Strip away your Westernized reason and logical chains. Join the freedom of a new day and tear down your false idols of Kant, Durkheim, and Marx. Take the chance of joining our story.

(Husband/Father) 12 Nursemaids

Today is the 12th anniversary of Daisy and Goose. It started out wonderfully with my playing pirates with Beast and then transitioning into making pumpkin pancakes for my family. Fire decided it was a good time to dislocate his elbow. Evidently this dislocation is called Nursemaid’s Elbow or could now be considered Babysitter’s Elbow. I can only guess it is because Nursemaids or Babysitters are known to abuse children? And that’s the funny thing. Dislocation of a child’s elbow before the age of 4 is pretty common and easily fixed. And not because of any kind of severe injury but common things such as falling down. In the case of Fire this morning it was jumping off our two story roof and sticking the landing only to became cocky and immediately jump into 5 no handed backward flips. After he landed those he punched a huge tree. We watched in astonishment as the mighty Oak tree collapsed onto our neighbor’s roof. We all whistled and cheered. The neighbor came out to congratulate Fire for such a fine display of fantastic strength. But when they shook hands Fire’s arm became limp and it was then we knew something was wrong.

Don't worry, it was easily fixed so the doctor showed me what to do in case other dislocations occur. He found out I have a private practice next door to the clinic, said his wife is looking to get into private practice, and viola. We are going to have dinner with our doctor’s family. Is that normal? My experience with doctors have been a 5 minute interview of symptom checklists, if I’m allergic to any medications, a prescription shoved into my hand, and a swift kick on my a** to get me out the door.

Unfortunately I have to go because Fire just woke up from his nap. Will you forgive me if I take a little time to vent? Daisy and I were going to have time alone today but it didn’t happen. Why? Because my biological mother loves booze more than my kids. I know it is harsh but it is also true. She is a nice woman who means well but she ends up hurting many people around her because of her addiction. False promises are no fun. Is someone close to you an alcoholic? It’s terribly frustrating to watch the disease progress.