What I'm Made of (My Blogger Idol Audition)

"You have to grow up straight." -Words of wisdom from my Grandma Sylvia, who would always emphasize that last word and use her crooked, arthritis-riddled finger to illustrate her point. Just to be clear, she wanted me to grow up strong, confident, and with a good head on my shoulders. She was not referring to anyone's lifestyle.

I slowly walked to the door. It was open, but I still knocked lightly on the frame. My grandmother laid there on her hospital bed. She turned her head. She was so weak at this point she couldn't move much. I asked her, "you want me to come in?" She smiled gently and nodded her head yes as little as she needed to.

I bent over and kissed her and told her I loved her, knowing this would probably be the last time I ever saw her. She was a little hard-boiled, but I always managed to make her smile. And just by showing up, I made her smile this one last time.

Grandma Sylvia. "Sealie" is what I affectionately called her. She had a saying when you were feeling sorry for yourself. "What are you made of sh!t?" She would bark it through her raspy, nicotine stained smoker's voice. You had no choice but to answer "no."

And that's why I am entering Blogger Idol. For Sealie. Because not only am I NOT made of sh!t, I am in it to win the whole damn thing. Why not me? I am constantly attached to my laptop, iPad, or blackberry... blogging, tweeting, or Facebooking. I am the daddy blogger who blogs while shirking his duties as a husband and father. No, not really. But I do blog from the bathroom, tweet at weddings, and I'm on Facebook while walking the dog.

Perhaps, since "writers are the new rock stars (as the Blogger Idol motto goes)," you're looking for a diva. Well, just call me Whitney Houston. But not the coked up Whitney. I'm talking about the belting-out-her-amazing-cover-of  "I Will Always Love You," I-demand-a-Tiffany-glass-full-of-fresh-spring-water-at-room-temperature-in-my dressing-room Whitney.

Seriously, if you read my blog, you know that I am honest, raw, and real. I take my experiences as a husband and a father, and spin them into gold. Anyone who is a dad, has a dad, loves a dad, or knows a dad could enjoy it. My goal is to make you laugh, cry, and think... not necessarily in that order, and not necessarily all at once. I tried to do it in the brief amount of time I had in this entry.

And in all honesty, Sealie's dying wish was that one day I would win an internet writing competition. Even though she died in 1989, and the internet hadn't taken off yet, I told her I'd do it. Because I'm not made of sh!t. (See what I did there?)

Don't miss out on any of the Blogger Idol action. Click here to follow, audition, or get involved.