Out-Numbered

Today my little meatball turned seven. 2555 sunrises. 2555 morning stretches. 2555 goodnight kisses. 2555 days traveling a dirt road off the beaten path.  A path on which, this year, we saw the greatest puppy ever known, chocolate chip pancakes and lazy Sundays anchored by nothing but bacon and feety pajamas.  It seems as if every year is just another year closer to further away... from me. She walks. She talks. She loves. She hurts. She contributes. The meatball is my youngest daughter. A lot of firsts for her were seconds for me. I take less pictures. I shoot less video. I spend less time worrying about things I can't control. Now I understand that these firsts that are seconds, are lasts. I remember longing for the day that she would wipe her own ass. Why are her arms so short? It seemed like such a burden.  Now I understand that these are burdens that only the most blessed of people carry. I want...

Frozen dog shit steams One less tissue is wasted Evidence of God Unavoidable Red Velvet beacon of light Death and Life collide Outback Steakhouse calls Slaughtered steer sing like sirens Happy Birthday Me Sony Dream Machine Dog lovingly licks my shin The morning sun waits Rare seat on the train Abe Lincoln versus Zombies Transit nirvana Vagina spews life Bloody demise of pigeon Particles whirling

My balls turned 40 today. In the days leading up to my birthday, people have been asking me this question; “how does it feel to be turning 40?” That’s a pretty hard question to answer truthfully. I know it’s kind of a rhetorical one. Taking in to account our inherent selfish nature as human beings, I’m almost positive that nobody actually gives a flying fuckazoo how I feel about turning 40. I know I certainly don’t. I feel the same as I did when I turned 39. Years are not always the best way to gauge how a person feels. When you ask a person how they feel about turning a year older, you need to clarify whether you’re inquiring about how they feel physically or mentally. Physically, I feel 60 years old. I know there are plenty of 60 year-old gentlemen out there that say they feel 40. I call bullshit. I don’t understand if that’s supposed to mean that they feel young or just younger than 60. That never makes any sense to me personally, because if I feel 60 at the a...

a form of procedural memory that involves consolidating a specific motor task into memory through repetition. When a movement is repeated over time, a long-term muscle memory is created for that task; eventually allowing it to be performed without conscious effort. Whenever I see my Dad, he gives me a hug and a kiss but there's something about the way he does it that always makes me pause. Whenever I see my Mom, her eyes widen, as if she's seeing me for the first time. I'm always a bit standoffish. Receiving this type of affection as a grown man, can be an uncomfortable feeling. It feels awkward. I would always ask myself, "why do they still greet me as if I were a child?" Their hugs and kisses are more apropos for a toddler; a sweet, little meatball that laughs when you kiss its neck. I'm not a toddler. I have hair everywhere. I have bad knees and scars. My neck smells like a mixture of sweat and cologne. I don't giggle when you squeeze me. The tickle me ...