"When history is personified, and the person behind that history dies, history itself is no longer real." - Greil Marcus, on the death of Elvis
Greil Marcus' quote can easily be applied to Michael Jackson. Live fast, die young, leave a freakish surgically altered corpse, a grieving pet chimp, and the remains of the Elephant Man. So long, Michael Jackson; we hardly knew ye. Or maybe we knew ye too much. Michael Jackson was perhaps the most polarizing performer of the last 30 years; love him or hate him (full disclosure: I skew towards the latter), it's hard to deny the impact he had on popular culture.
Me like read Internet because me like movies of skatebored skateborde skatebord skateboard crashes. But sometime me as dad learn stuff from Internet, like when me read story from CNN about how me should be good daddy while me work job.
Rooting for divorce, especially when children are involved, is not something I would normally advocate. But frankly, that has long been my position regarding Jon and Kate Gosselin, stars of the Jon & Kate Plus 8, the "reality" show that follows to these parents of twins (now 8) who then had sextuplets (now 5).
My opinion, formed on the occasional episode I'd catch my daughter watching or tidbit I'd find online, was based on a simple premise:
Kate is a bossy, overbearing shrew of legendary proportion (updated with fancier clothes and a revised version of Posh Spice's old 'do) and Jon, no matter how wimpy you may think he is, didn't deserve to put up with her constant verbal abuse and on-camera humiliation. I'd have felt the same way if the roles were reversed.
After watching the premiere of Jon & Kate Plus Eight's new season Monday night, in which the two are definitely estranged and hinting at a permanent split amid a party to celebrate the sextuplets' birthday, my opinion has changed.
Most of my teenage summers were spent in the wilds of the Texas Hill Country, employed by the Boy Scouts of America to train young lads in the ways of the outdoors, everything from building fires and swinging axes to tying knots and constructing rope bridges. It would have been the perfect job if it hadn’t been for all of those damn kids. One drawback was the schedule, with one batch of kids leaving Saturday afternoon and the next batch arriving on their heels the next Sunday afternoon. But that 24 hour span in-between was ours to do with as we pleased.
One weekend, some of my friends came out to visit and see for themselves this magical patch of acreage that I emerged from every September laden with stories with which to regale them. With no troops around, we were free to camp wherever we wanted, so we snagged a sweet spot right next to the river. Now being teenagers, there was, of course, alcohol. That was just part of the deal, and I would have been righteously disappointed in my friends had they arrived dry. And I even halfway expected them to come packing another party favor, which they most certainly did. What I did not expect them to show up with was hallucinogens.
While sifting through the Sunday papers, a blurb about a bill to grant federal employees four weeks of paid parental leave to care for a newborn or newly adopted child stopped me cold. This particular paragraph did the trick:
"While federal workers have been offered only unpaid leave since 1993, 75% of Fortune 500 companies grant at least a month of paid time off to new parents," wrote Joel Schectman in the New York Daily News.
See, back in the day, I worked for one of the do-nothing 25%.
You're reading DadCentric right now which is always a good call, but do you feel like you might be forgetting something? Should your attention be elsewhere? Look around you. Is there a woman covered in children giving you some serious stink-eye? Yes, that one. What's her deal?
Perhaps you had a big day planned of NBA playoff action, beer and couch. That's not happening.
Today, you poor sap, is Mother's Day and if you've made it this far you're most-likely screwed and you need our help.
Continue reading "Did You Forget Something? Hint, It's Mother's Day" »
This may or may not be the last season of Scrubs. It depends on ratings, money and solar wind. It's complicated.
The show is also complicated. It's a sitcom full of overly silly antics and terrible jokes and it is also incredibly funny. It is superficial and surprisingly deep. It has heart. Sacred.
The main character of J.D., played by Zach Braff, is leaving for sure. That much is certain. Even if Scrubs returns for its 9th season it will be Braffless. This could wreck havoc on the appletini business- easy on the tini.
My life is spread across Craigslist and packed tight in so many boxes. Every breath is a dollar spent and every memory a melancholy moment. We are moving to pastures greener, literally- the greener part, not the pasture.
We are leaving Los Angeles in a matter of weeks and I'm already over it. Our corner of the county is for cowards and meth labs, hate crimes and crimes of hate. This isn't the life of movie stars and swimming pools. It is a life unfiltered and the daily grind has left us stained and lethargic.
Say goodbye to Hollywood.
Seriously, this is for contest winners only. There's nothing for you to see here.
It appears that no drawing was necessary. This is obviously due to a lack of literate people in this world and is in no way a reflection on you, the actual winners. We're all winners here, people.
Apparently the losers don't like to read and therefore don't enter contests with books for prizes. This is just cause for open mocking and blatant ridicule. I can totally say that because a) if they don't read they won't be reading this, and b) I told them to skip this post which they would anyway (see A).
With all apologies to Scott* here are the winners from our book contest.
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