I’m a dad. A plain old dad. Not an enlightened new age parent, not a “Mr. Mom” and most definitely not in touch with my feminine side ( well, now that I read a ton of mom blogs, this statement is easily debatable ). I’m just a father of a 6-year-old son, trying my best to be a kick ass dad. What’s a kick ass dad? I don’t know. I figure it out as I go along, and as with any endeavor of this magnitude, it deserves to be documented.
I was born and raised in Boston, MA, but currently reside on the outskirts of Los Angeles. I started this blog because I used to have an insanely lengthy train ride to work, and I was too lazy to read a book. In a cruel twist of irony, my Google reader is now several novels long. I’ve since found another job with a relatively sane train ride. But I am now hopelessly addicted to this blogging thing.
So who’s watering the plants while I blog my life away? d Wife of course. She works full time, but somehow also manages to keep us all in line, alive and spotlessly clean. Like the pizza to my beer or the cigar to my whisky, she makes this household greater than merely the sum of its parts, which also includes Krypto the super dog and BJ the loving little yapping fur ball.
A couple of vestiges of my past life have managed to stick with me in a valiant effort to maintain some semblance of a cool guy/alpha male outside of my persona as a family man. I train in Muay Thai (Thai kickboxing) and play guitar (although I’m no good yet). I wish I had a Harley, but I promised myself that if I did not have one by the time I had a kid, I would wait until he was 18 so he wouldn’t have to be raised on life insurance benefits. That, and d Wife won’t let me...