Friday, February 26, 2010


I remember it like it was yesterday. My father had come home with a piece of machinery that blew my mind. I was about ten at the time and had never seen the insides of one. I had asked on several occasions at school but for some reason my computer teachers proved both apprehensive and defensive when asked to gut one. The day that chassis opened was as if the expanse of my mind grew. He had made a profound difference in my world blazing a path to which I would always continue. I saw circuits, tiny batteries and the geekiest word of all-time, the motherboard!

I was enamored, and even more so when I found that the DOS prompt had been bypassed. It was the Windows era and was as if the floodgates of heaven had been opened. Needles to say, one of my passions is no doubt computers and has long stood the test of time unlike previous flings like basketball or card collecting.

Now while I've found my love in computers, it is true that my concubine is writing. Aside from those though, I actually find it rather difficult naming my actual gifts and talents when asked as most people do. So difficult that at first all I could come up with was Kite flying. I mean, I don't like to brag but in a parallel universe somewhere where Golf ceases to exist and Kite Flying is king, there I stand, the superstar figure of Kite Flying. You know, sometimes I feel as if were born in the wrong era? Take for instance this Tiger Woods fellow, the world renown billionaire sports figure. Sure we know him today as the "Cheating Cablanasian" jokingly referred to as "Slyger," but what if he'd lived before golf was invented. He'd be a pauper! This because his uncanny ability to use a stick to place a ball within a foot of a hole five hundred yards away would be useless. So here I stand, a would be billionaire Kite runner forced to showcase my talents on empty soccer fields but I digress.

In reality though, I think it best that we sit down with our kids and help them find where they are talented and gifted. If they excel in learning, push them harder! If they excel in art, encourage them more! If they have an uncanny ability to get in and out of their shoes without untying them, tie them tighter...

To read more please be sure to purchase a copy of my soon to be published book chronicling my life as a single father. Also, feel free to donate toward its costs if you so choose by clicking the donate button @ Thanks for taking this journey with me.

Miracles and Blessings


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Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Humor me...

They act as if I was born yesterday - asking me all these questions! Yes I know why the chicken crossed the road...all 428 variations of it! Yes I know why six is afraid of seven and for the last time, yes I'm glad you didn't say banana! You know these kids nowadays think themselves the next Dave Chappelle because they make squeaky sounds with their arm pits and whisper to each other about what happened to the little boy named Booty-itch! Don't they know I've told those same jokes and pulled those same pranks? I mean I still have the contorted arms to prove it and could probably still play a mean arm-fiddle if I chose to!

So here they are walking around entertaining themselves as if they've just invented walking around with their shoes on their knees! But, on occasion, I must admit I am caught off guard. Like the time my daughter walked into my room complaining of a sore neck. She then proceeds to forcefully jerk her head and fall lifelessly to the floor. The sound of the concealed plastic cup smashing under her sweater as she fell nearly caused me to faint! While she got me that time, she must know that ole Dad has a few more tricks left up his sleeve - and I'm saving the best for last!

Well friends, it seems my kids are growing up and doing a pretty good job acclimating themselves into society. They are all doing well in school while excelling at home in fun and games, inventing new ways (so they think) to enjoy life. Wait, I don't believe I've ever requested an invite to a Kumate for my 9th birthday or even a Golden ticket for my 6th but you know what I mean. And yes, they couldn't be more serious!

I say all this to say that life is just as full of opportunities to laugh as there are to be serious. It's a balance I think. I mean, remember how we grew up...

To read more please be sure to purchase a copy of my soon to be published book chronicling my life as a single father. Also, feel free to donate toward its costs if you so choose by clicking the donate button @ Thanks for taking this journey with me.
Miracles and Blessings

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Friday, February 19, 2010


The kid was awesome. No doubt one of the brightest I'd come across and for some reason he thought Computer Science interesting. "Is it time to begin," he asked eagerly. "No we have a few minutes, I'm still setting up," I said. As the kid walked away I noticed an object dangling from the adjustable strap on the back of his baseball cap. "Hey buddy, what's that, I asked" "Oh, this? It's my invention!" He then proceeded to unstrap the scrungi from the hat loop and open the contents of the old school plastic film roll case. Inside was a latex glove, two band-aids, alki swabs, hand sanitizer, and a defibrillator. Ok, I was joking about the latter. "It's my first-aid kit...Duh" he tells me. By that point I was sorry I'd asked.

Now on my way home later that evening my son began his endless question session. "Why do birds fly?" "What does the yellow light mean?" Now I paused when he asked this, but being as though this was pre-red light-green light period in school," I gave the lad a break. "Well son, the yellow light means to take caution and slow down." "Well how come you "take closet" when it's a green light too?

In pondering this thought, he was correct. I'd noticed that on many occasions I'd slow down at an intersection no matter the light color. Not only would I slow down but I'd look around to make sure no other cars were coming and then proceed. "Because son, you can't just rely on signals, you have to look for other signs too."

As in life, I've found this to be a top 10 rule for living. This because you must be careful not to believe anything everyone says. Now don't get me wrong, I think it great to have faith in people but the bottom line is to "take closet" to protect yourself. There are wolves in sheep clothing everywhere you turn. "Don't get eaten," I said. "Why not?" he asked...

To read more please be sure to purchase a copy of my soon to be published book chronicling my life as a single father. Also, feel free to donate toward its costs if you so choose by clicking the donate button @ Thanks for taking this journey with me.

Miracles and Blessings


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Thursday, February 18, 2010


So we said our goodbyes and no one shed a tear for their dear brother. We had discussed what the plan would be. We would gather up all his things and just drop him off - simple as that. It needed to be done I think. I had no choice. I'd hate to say it but this dude, to me, was the cause of the single greatest pain in my side ever! Look don't judge me...the constant whining, his constant lack of disrespect, his outright gall... all of it had me within seconds of writing up his eulogy. I didn't want that! What I wanted was for the pain and suffering to end -positively!

You see, as we all gathered in the car with the four of them in the back seat, they all seemed happy enough. The littlest one was without a seat belt and a clue that he would soon be betrayed. His life as he knew it would cease to exist. I mean, I tried to explain it to him but it was like it went right in one ear and out the other. I said, "Son, I've tried, your siblings have tried, but we can't go on like this. It's not you it's me!" He just looked up at me and begged for my food. We went on a walk that day. That was the last father-son time we had together before I kissed him on his cheek to be handed over.

The next day was different though. I woke up with a renewed attitude. It seems the previous day had birthed in me this song. I found myself humming..."Just waking up in the morning gotta thank God. I don't know but today seems kind of odd. No barking from the DOG-DOG-DOG... Then the weight of what I had done hit me like a brick! What had I done!?! In my distress I had promised my kids a kitten...

To read more please be sure to purchase a copy of my soon to be published book chronicling my life as a single father. Also, feel free to donate toward its costs if you so choose by clicking the donate button @ Thanks for taking this journey with me.

Miracles and Blessings


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Monday, February 15, 2010


It was there I found myself... I was sitting silently engulfed in darkness as the sounds of those screaming in terror were growing increasingly horrific. The gore was more than anything I had ever experienced before and by that point it was hard for me to tell the difference between make believe and reality. If it wasn't real, like they kept telling me, I thought, then why are they jumping? Why are they screaming, and why did I just mess my corduroys?

For me, peeking through my fingers that day proved a total shock and was not at all what I was expecting. What I had expected was the fruition of my daydreams. Daydreams conjured by my time waiting in suspended anticipation for nearly two weeks. The reason for my excitement you ask? Why it was the big screen debut of my favorite childhood character and it was going to be bumpin', I told myself.

Before entering the theatre, I remember glaring at the marquee poster with the giant letters staring back at me. It read "Rainbow Brite and the Star Stealer!" Finally the day had come I thought as I stared at it with amazement. This until I was abruptly whisked away into the adjacent theatre by my older cousins and their friends.

That's where my nightmare would soon begin and where I'd find myself sitting soiled in the darkness. You see upon taking our seats, everyone seemed just as jovial as I and I for one was ready to have unveiled before me the secrets of Rainbow Brite! However, it would not be so that day. Here there was no mention of the colorful superstar character. Only of some guy they affectionately referred to as Freddy! They also kept going on and on about how he would get his revenge??? At five years old, I sat there with my endless bucket of popcorn imagining this thing called revenge. Maybe I'll get some, I'd hoped - it sounded delicious!

To read more and to find out what happened, please be sure to purchase a copy of my soon to be published book chronicling my life as a single father. Also, feel free to donate toward its costs if you so choose by clicking the donate button @ Thanks for taking this journey with me.

Miracles and Blessings


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Friday, February 12, 2010


I could not believe my eyes. There I sat in total disbelief. Why hadn't my eyes been opened before? Was I really that innocent back then? With a click of the mouse I had to pause the YouTube session. I was torn on whether or not I should continue. The images of blind construction workers being enslaved by these cave dwelling puppet like creatures may be too much for the kids I thought. Furthermore, why the creepy dirty old man whose only companion was a dingy mutt in desperate need of a bath. I mean, I wouldn't let my kids come within 10 feet of this guy. He was so dirty in fact that he didn't have roaches, no no, he didn't have mice, or rats even. It was far worse!  This characters' crib had been infested by free running "Fraggles!"

So in my old age it seems my tolerance for this sort of thing was near zero and the kids groove to the opening credits of Fraggle Rock was temporarily interrupted.  All I wanted was for them to experience some of my fond childhood shows because theirs are so creepy. I mean who could forget the controversy about those weird looking Teletubbies? Or perhaps the creepy face of the Blue's Clues host? So here we have a grown man with a baby butt smooth face, dressed up in colorful long sleeve shirts (obviously to cover his heroine marked arms) attempting to engage in dialogue with your kids! I'm no dummy, I saw where that was going from the very beginning. It was a setup and only a matter of time before he's caught wearing his rapist glasses rolling up on some unsuspecting five year old in an elementary school parking lot while holding his...Blue's Clues doll!

I know what I'll do, I thought. You can't go wrong with ole Paddington Bear! He had this awesome accent and he never did anything wrong. No harm in that right? So wrong! It seemed he was the inspiration for all the aforementioned. So a bear walks around town mid day going commando in a half opened duffel coat and a hat nearly covering his eyes.  Need I say more?

Parents, all I'm saying is that the good ole days may not have necessarily been so good and we need to heighten our vigilance levels. I say keep an eye on these new shows being pushed into your kids heads by these freaks! It seems our only option is the TBN Network. It's the only station bringing joy and comfort to our kids with a Christian message. We'll...decide for yourself. I found my kids glaring without blink at this one show. To my distress, I also found a pair of rapist glasses looking back! Don't believe me??? Check it out for yourself @  Possibly the creepiest thing I've ever seen!  I couldn't click away fast enough!  Stay vigilant!

Wednesday, February 10, 2010


Once upon a time in the land Far Far Away stood a mansion with many rooms and each room boasted many windows. As it stood on this particular day, each window was closed all for this one which sat a beautiful yellow canary in its cage. The caged bird tweeted the most wonderful songs and his master adored him. Often, to encourage song, he would place the cage near the windowsill as other birds would join in with the canary. The bird, always with hopes of being released, imagined his master doing just that and so freedom became his inspiration for singing.

As the canary sat on the windowsill one evening a robin began to question why he sang so grand. "Why to be released," the canary tweeted. "The more I sing, the closer I get to gaining my freedom." The robin was saddened by the canary's since of delusion. This as the canary asked, "Can you tell my family of my plight and return to me the secret of freedom? In wondrous pity, the robin was off in the direction the canary had explained.  When the robin arrived to his destination he informed the first of their relatives' circumstance. Then, swiftly upon hearing the news of his capture, the kin canary fell dead to the ground. The robin quickly left both confused and in mourning having taken regret of his involvement.

Very shortly after, the robin made his way back to the windowsill and observed the canary singing as if the cage door would be opened any second. "Canary, I must inform you that upon hearing the news of your imprisonment, a kin of yours fell dead to the ground, "I am truly sorry," the robin chirped. Following this news the canary's song heightened to such a point as to captivate its owner. Then, at climax captivation, the canary fell both silent and dead to the ground as well. The robin, in total disbelief flew away confused and perched himself in observance until putting two and two together. He was the carrier of a fatal disease that killed anyone he contacted. Sadly, the robin spent the rest of his days in solitude.

Friends, as you are well aware, becoming a parent brings with it a whole heap of responsibility, new decisions we are forced to make, and in addition, new freedoms to which we never expected. This freedom being to love those who are made in your image, your children. You know, sometimes as a single father I forget this and bring myself to believe my freedoms would multiply if my circumstances were different but the fact is that I'd just end up like that robin spending the rest of my days diseased and in solitude. See what the robin failed to realize was that upon seeing the canary in distress, his master opened the cage door and the canary quickly grasped its freedom. In the end, the robin wasn't diseased at all but was in fact carrying the secret of freedom. It is that same freedom we hold deep within us as parents but can only be revealed to us when we make the decision to stick around.

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Monday, February 8, 2010


In a palatial estate on a vast sea of land sits a little boy on a white porch. The sun rays beam down seeing fit to illuminate that which it cultivates. Rolling hills of green grass, blooming dog woods and crepe myrtles stand erect in the distance. With his legs dangling from the porch swing, his eyes concentrate on the words being taught to him. Some words he is unable to sound out, and some meanings he is unable to comprehend, but he will one day.

The boys' father sits with him steadying the swing as the motion of it lulls him to remember a time when he sat with his own father sounding out these very words. Pausing, he takes a sip of his wife's lemonade and looks up and takes in both the scenery and perspective. The land the estate stands - purchased hundreds of years ago, the porch on which they sit- built in latter years, but the words they are reading proving more ancient than either. These are a people who know their history, who know the struggles of their ancestors. The direction in which they are to go proves illuminated by a blazing path set straight before them. It speaks to them and its voice is "The Chronicles."

For those of you that are unaware, my purpose for creating "The Chronicles" is to provide some form of a lasting legacy for future generations. To eventually provide a window into their past and be that forceful wind pushing them toward excellence birthed from the very breath of life breathed in me. I ask you, is my dream too far fetched?

Friends, together we've seen a man who once would have been considered three-fifths of a man become President of these United States. We've also, through outlets such as writing, can experience the lives of such great persons as Frederick Douglass or Booker T. Washington. All of these gentleman I admire. All to which I hope to be held in the same esteem, and all whose books I hope mine to adjacent on the bookshelves within the library of that palatial estate hundreds of years from now.

So you are aware, "The Chronicles" is now in the late stages of editing and having the first edition published and it is this that I would like you to be of support. If you've read my writings and appreciate its purpose, I ask for a donation toward its publishing cost. I've added a "Donate" button to my blog to assist in making this a reality. As for me, I say our dreams are not too far fetched! After all, I breathe the same air as all the greats before us and am warmed by the same sun as they.

I thank you for taking this journey with me and hopefully receiving your very own copy of the published product with a $50 donation. Know that I appreciate any support whether it be verbal or monetary. Play a part and donate to "History..." Oh - and remember...Like the Princess of Zamunda once quoted..."We like the kind that jingles, but we prefer the money that folds."

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Friday, February 5, 2010

Keep Pedaling...

There he was. This little guy standing in the middle of the driveway dressed as a warrior. His helmet decorated with the illusion of fire, his armor shining steel blue in color and tightened around his elbows and arms. He was ready! Oh wait... "Tighten up your chin strap." Ok now he was ready! With this however, it seemed his enemy was just as prepared if not more so. His enemy sat in its own corner displaying its menacing frame and snaring back at him as the young warrior trembled with fear. The armor on his knees knocked almost rhythmically. The beat sounded eerily like Queen's 1980 hit "Another one bites the dust." "Dad, he called out shaken, Do we have to take the training wheels off today? I don't have to learn today, I'm ok - really." It was clear the boy was nerve stricken. Apparently he'd gotten wind of the epic battles his older siblings had with the great two wheeled beast. They had triumphed but not without a battle mark or band aid. These stories, now clearly exaggerated were messing with his psyche...and his stomach. Thinking fast I gave the warrior a pep talk of sorts as he stood on the hot concrete terrain. With his eyes darting constantly and his legs week, what he needed was a dose of courage I thought. "My stomach hurts Daddy" "Keep your wits about you son and take this elixir! It's sure to give you all the energy you need to defeat the beast. It's basically liquid courage - drink up!" I passed him the Chuck E Cheese goblet and he drank boldly from it. When he'd finished he looked different. His knees quieted and he emphatically proclaimed "That's Pepto Bismol Daddy!" I simply proclaimed with a stiff pat on his back, that's the stuff dreams are made out of!

As we made our way down to the asphalt lined battlefield, the suburban warrior continually posed questions to his giggling siblings of how long it would take. My daughter shouted out "Five minutes!" In actuality it had taken her three days, a box of band aids, and two pair of gloves. I remember it like it was yesterday. The child pedaled right into the woods and hit a tree! She sat out the next day. Look, don't judge me - I take full blame! "Lesson one son - "Braking."

I must say people, that was no doubt the hottest day of the year and pushing dead weight in limp armor with a bike up and down the street was exhausting. "Can we take a break?, he said" "Keep pedaling," I replied. "Can you pour water over my head?" "Keep pedaling!" "Will you..." "Keep pedaling!!!" Now about our tenth time up and down the street my own knees were knocking and he could keep his balance when I let go for a second or two. The smile across his face was priceless. The kids snapped pictures and he was on his way. Then he hit "bit the dust!" It seems a quick jerk of the wheel provided him with a taste of the unforgiving terrain. His left knee pad had absorbed much of the enemy blow. I took my time getting there as the beast lay on top of his tangled body and he yelled out. I reached the boy and loosened him from the enemy's "Full Nelson" and "Figure Four" grip. He then looks up at me as if to say...I know - Keep pedaling! Now there you have it friends...That's the stuff dreams are really made of!

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Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Four Letters...

Dear Mr. MacGyver,

I've watched all your episodes on TV and have been amazed at your engineering prowess. Actually that's what started me toward my path in engineering. That time you disarmed a missile with a paperclip was "nothing but the truth!" You're like a one man A-team without a lame torch or a Mohawk. Those guys were idiots and you are awesome! Can you please send me your autograph and the instructions on how to repair a busted brake line while in a moving car?

Sincerely, Your biggest fan!

Dear MacGyver,

I recently wrote you a letter to which I have yet to receive a response. For your reading enjoyment I have attached it with this one. I understand how busy things can get. I would have thought things would have slowed down for you with the advent of Jack Bower. Anyways, this time I need help with my sons science fair project. With it being a recession and all, my only materials consist of those contents within my kitchen cabinet. The hypothesis... "If we follow the instructions in your episode entitled "The Black Corsage," then we will make a better fire extinguisher than currently on the market!"

Sincerely, Grooming the next Generation

Dear Mac,

This is my third letter and I've received no responses. I feel as though you do not care about my son or I. He received an F on his science fair project and you're a fraud! I don't even know who you are anymore or whether you could even power a radio with a cactus. You know I believed in you but I see it's true what my kids said! You are lame! All those times I went to bat for you when Knight Rider came into the discussion! Please send that autograph ASAP as we've run out of toiletries. P.S. You're the reason terrorist exist!

Sinceley, Walker Texas Ranger Fan!

Dear Friends,

Do not let this happen to you! Do not look to fictional characters when in need. I had to learn the hard way and am putting myself out there as an example. Take for instance just yesterday. I nearly bet a friend that I could construct an arcwelder from a car battery and pocket change! I could have lost an eye! Seriously though, take my advice as there is only one guy that can perform miracles and allow for an escape from a burning incinerator. (Even without the use of a fire extinguisher) Only one set of instructions that can give you the guidance and wisdom necessary for a life worth living. He'll never fail and leave you disappointed like that geeky fraud did to me! I know because a great multitude of witnesses stand before you having already succeeded in proving that hypothesis correct. So, if you ever find yourself like me with three children in the back seat simultaneously screaming "Tow truck! -Tow truck!" because your transmission just blew, just take a breath and put away your pocket change. Simply thank God for providing for a miraculous escape and let him change you. Appreciate that escape to which you were totally unbeknownst. This because we never really have any idea what's waiting for us around that corner we never made it to! Now that's "nothing but the Truth!" Hopefully a truth that starts you toward a path to that truth named Christ.

Sincerely, One of the multitude!

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Monday, February 1, 2010


The day had finally come! It was 1991 and the much anticipated report card day had arrived. For some it carried negative connotations but for your was Payday! This because I was promised $5 for B's and $10 for A's and since I was always one to count my chickens, I had already planned how it would be spent. You see, after my ship had come in, my after school habit of Minnesota Avenue Carry-out fries and Push-Pops would be supported until the following quarter. But wait...what was this "thing" on my report card. Some kind of blemish, it looked almost like a C! Well that couldn't be right because that would mean my plan would be thwarted and I had not calculated this "thing" into the budget! "Well teachers make mistakes all the time, I thought. I just wished she hadn't made it with me. My folks are gonna "kirk" and I'd sure hate to be Ms. Hatchet right about now!"
Well here I am folks. Nearly twenty years later and the tables have turned. It was report card time and I was informed that my daughter would receive a "thing" on her report card. I was infuriated to say the least! Just as infuriated as the time she came home and repeated what her teacher had explained to the class... "It's OK to be average!" I 'bout fell out! This must be some of mistake I thought and... I'd really hate to be the teacher right now! I mean I had just e-mailed her teacher the day prior and she assured me of her grade. "Ooh...Ms. Teacher is gonna get it!"
I called the school right away - no answer! I was forced to leave a message with her counselor. I then waited a whole 10 mins before calling again. No answer...again! At this point my "kirk" level began to steadily rise as an e-mail was formulated. It was not a nice e-mail. I was finny break em' down like I was in an old school pencil fight! I then came home later that evening and watched my daughter drop a single tear as I told her what she would receive. "Oh, that's not right Daddy. I turned in everything! "You put that on everything?" "Yep!" "Ooh, the counselor and Ms. Teacher are both gonna get it!" What an occasion I thought, and a perfect time to pop the cork on that bottle I'd been waiting to open. It was a vintage 1991 bottle consisting of a perfect blend of consequences and repercussions!
Well fam, while home practicing my pencil fighting techniques and preparing my palette as well as my dissertation, the young one returned, again with a single tear running down her face. She wanted to fess up and come clean. "I didn't turn it in Daddy," she said in her small voice. "Huh what?!?" This couldn't be. Was this a blatant face-to-face display of falsiticity??? Had I been lead astray??? Help me! This was sure to cause a "Black out" episode of the highest degree! (See Blog entitled "Discipline...") This would mean I'd have to go back and eat my words and those words were NOT tasteful! I would bet they tasted like chicken though. This because I thought I'd chicken out and reply to the e-mail instead of calling!
So here we are. I stand before you twenty years sober. All because I got my first C and had to detox from my fry and Push-Pop habit. It was tough but necessary. I say If it wasn't for Ms. Hatchet I'd be 400 pounds by now! Hopefully my daughter will in some way find some good in this as well. We shall see. Maybe this experience will motivate her to be a writer??? Her six page dissertation on lying was pretty good!

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