Vacation All I Ever Wanted

This year has not gotten off to the start I had anticipated. January was a tougher-than-expected month. While I try to embrace a renewed sense of optimism that comes with New Year's Day, some forces took hold of me shortly thereafter. A combination of work stress, winter blahs, and frustration and boredom of the routine conspired to make that month not as productive, and unfortunately not as embraced, as I would have hoped.

Then February came. I was managing to shake free of those blahs. We even faced and conquered the blizzard that dumped more than a foot of snow on us. But soon thereafter, I was struck with Man Cold. This winter is kicking my a$$. (You may have also noticed I haven't been blogging as regularly as you've come to expect.) While I don't like to complain about the weather since we choose to live here in the northeast, this winter has been the clincher, convincing My Director and I to move someplace warmer when it's time to retire. We may even start taking warm-weather vacations starting next winter. And that got me thinking of warmer times in warmer climates:

Nearly a year ago, we went on our DKL Disney Adventure.

Last summer, Peanut declared one day in particular the Best Day Ever.

One of my favorite memories with Peanut was when we decided to  Go Fly a Kite.

A whirlwind, cross-continental, two-country trip taught me a very valuable lesson. It's What I Learned on My Summer Vacation.

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To Infinity and Beyond

"We're going in the attic now, folks. Keep your accessories with you at all times. Spare parts, batteries, anything you need for an orderly transition." -Buzz Lightyear, Toy Story 3

Like an old friend you haven't seen in ages, and then you hang out with them for a night and it's like you're back in high school/college/prison together with the old stories, laughter and hugs, Toy Story 3 recently reappeared into our lives. Albeit briefly. There was a time, before the princesses wielded their awesome power over Peanut, that she loved Jessie and Woody and the rest of the crew more than any other. So much so that Toy Story 3 played on a constant loop in our home. I not only knew it by heart, I quoted it habitually and applied the lessons to my real-life situations, even going so far as to wear a bracelet reading, "WWWD: What Would Woody Do?"

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A Few of Our Favorite Things

One of the cards I didn't include in my Ghosts of Christmas Cards Past post last week, was our parody of My Favorite Things from 2009. That year's card was perhaps our most irreverent:

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The Story of Us

"After changes upon changes, we are more or less the same." -Simon and Garfunkel

I picked up the newspaper. It was the New York Times. I showed it to my fiance. "I hope you're ok with the front page of the paper looking like this every year on our anniversary." It was December 7, 2001. The 60th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. We got married a year later.

It's funny how your anniversary is sometimes chosen for you. We decided we wanted to get married in December, when every place would be decorated for Christmas. We wanted a Saturday. The thought was with a lot of people traveling to attend, and staying over for the weekend, the 21st was too close to Christmas. The reception hall we wanted was booked on the 14th. So Pearl Harbor Day it was.

The day that will live in infamy. (My Director STILL doesn't think it's funny when I say that.)

This Friday we celebrate our 10th anniversary. That's a big one. It really does seem just like yesterday. So much has happened since then. To us, to our world. Yet, we remain. Older, different, but pretty much the same.

One night recently, as we were laying in bed, My Director told me that she had shared a story of some of her college "exploits" that day with a few of her students. "How much detail did you give them?" I asked. "I was vague," she said. That college girl is the person I fell in love with. And even though our "exploits" are different now - much tamer, thank you very much - she's still the person I fell in love with. Same smile. Same beauty. Same kindness, generosity, and warmth.

I just have a lot less hair now.

And here, I was trying to set her up with someone else in the year before we got together. Good thing she never has listened to me.

Please celebrate our anniversary with us by reliving some of our fondest memories of the story of us:

We are proof that everything happens for a reason. It's How I Met Your Mother.

I knew it was too soon to tell her I loved her. So I came up with something else. Her response was underwhelming to say the least. Read what she said when I told her, "You're My Best Friend."

A few weeks after that, she did something that told me she was the one I would spend the rest of my life with. For This I am Forever Thankful

How did I pop the question? You really should check out the Lies, Deception, and the Three-State Tale That Ended With My Marriage Proposal.

If you don't know the reason why I refer to her as "My Director" on this blog, it was my anniversary gift to her last year. Allow Me to (Re)Introduce...

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What Do You Mean I'm Funny?

I missed almost two months of my senior year in high school because of mononucleosis. Can you believe that crap? Freakin' mono senior year? In this day and age? I was going stir crazy. A parade of tutors helped me through my school work in the mornings and a parade of friends came to visit me in the afternoons. One of those friends was thoughtful enough to bring me a yearbook form to fill out. Even then, way before blogging existed, I was needy and self-absorbed. (Once a writer always a writer.) And this friend knew I would want to be immortalized in the yearbook with my likes, dislikes, favorite memories, and of course, my quote.

Some kids quote Mark Twain or Shakespeare. Some quote John Lennon or Jerry Garcia. Who did I quote? Joe Pesci. His character in Goodfellas, to be exact. It was this quote:

"What do you mean I'm funny? What am I, a clown? I'm here to amuse you?"

It's arguably the most famous scene in one of the most popular movies of all time: Goodfellas. When I was a senior in high school, that movie was already a classic. Now it's one of the ten movies I can't wait to watch with Peanut. I quote it daily. For example, if I ask someone at work to do something a certain way, I just may end it with, "Now go get your shine box." Yeah... I'm manager of the year.

The needy, self-absorbed budding writer in me also wanted my yearbook quote to stand out while standing the test of time. I wanted to be remembered, and remembered as a funny guy. Anyone who is funny wants to remind you how funny they are. So it is with that in mind that I present to you this list of some of some of the funniest posts on DKL:

The post that remains the most-ever read on DKL is this one about Peanut's Ken doll and his "man-gina." It's so funny because "Dude Looks Like a Lady."

To keep with the awkward, plastic private parts theme, few things could prepare me for what I saw when I opened the fridge one morning: Belle saying, "Rise and Shine."

Yet another post with pen!s humor. This one involves real people, including my mother-in-law of all people. And a reenactment from one of Luna's toys, to show "THAT's not a Toy."

Believe it or not, the idea not only to bring my in-laws to Disney with us but actually stay in the same room with them was mine. You might be asking, "What the Hell Was I Thinking?"

Finally, I had a little fun with photoshop when Peanut was caught swiping toys from the daycare playground. It was all part of my effort "To Catch a Thief."

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THE PEANUT GALLERY: One Last Summer As My Baby

I came down with a stubborn case of nostalgia this summer. Not helping matters, one night I was looking through baby pictures. (I needed one for a blog post. This post, as a matter of fact.) As I right-clicked my way through Peanut's baby years in a matter of minutes, it hit me. Where did the time go? Where did my baby go? I remember these times so vividly. I remember her so vividly. Baby Peanut. Toddler Peanut. Demon Tantrum Refuses-to-Potty-Train Peanut. Fond memories. Mostly. I tried not to break down. Like on the first day of school, I felt myself getting choked up. But I choked that shizz right back down again.

When Peanut graduated daycare, she looked so grown up standing on that stage receiving her fake diploma. As a result of that image, I decided to call the past few months "one last summer as my baby." I knew it's where I would witness some small steps, but giant leaps for Peanut-kind. And I wanted to make sure to remember them. But most important, enjoy them. I'm glad for these memories. For capturing these moments in time. And for having one last summer as my baby:

She went night swimming with her cousin and
thought it was the coolest thing ever.

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I'm a Rock Star Thanks to @BloggerIdol

It's true. I am a rock star. It has nothing to do with my love of karaoke, my penchant to sing in the shower, or my talent to make a parody out of any song by putting my dog Luna's name in it. It doesn't even have to do with taking My Director to the Awesome 80's Prom for her 30th birthday:

This was 5 years ago.
Yes, that's a Smurf tattoo

No. I am a rock star because Blogger Idol told me so. The motto of this wonderful experience disguised as a writing contest is "writers are the new rock stars." As many of you who have been following DKL from the beginning may remember, this time last year I was knee-deep in Blogger Idol. I had made it to the finale in the first-ever season, only to lose by a handful of votes at the last possible minute. (Not bitter at all. Totally over it. Now please pass me that bottle of Jack Daniels.)

I've made a lot of friends in the blogosphere, forged a lot of relationships, learned a lot of things from a lot of really cool, special, interesting people. Blogger Idol was by far the most unique experience I've ever had in the year and a half since I took DKL public. The weekly challenges were at times frustrating, but mostly invigorating and inspiring. They pushed me as a writer to go places I've never gone before and explore topics I never would have explored. (Uh, there was a vampire week. Random but fun. And my post got top marks from the judges.) I have gained lasting friendships with some great people. My fellow contestants, actually. Roni from The Mommy in Law, Chris at ...from the Bungalow, and Derrick from Dad v. Autism, to name a few.

I'm not going to lie. Winning would have been very cool. But in hindsight, doing it - putting myself out there - was so much more rewarding. I was proud of the work I did, how I presented myself, and how I kept true to myself and the integrity of my blog and my writing.

Now Blogger Idol is back, it's bigger and better. The prizes are amazing. And perhaps most exciting for DKLers, I'm going to be a judge. How cool is that? For now, judge for yourself and check out some of my favorite entries from last year's assigments:

Here is my audition post that convinced the judges to put me into the top 12. The assignment was simple: Why are you the next Blogger Idol? So I drew inspiration from my Grandma Sylvia and told them What I'm Made Of.

In Week 1 of this 12-week journey, we were asked to introduce ourselves to the voters. So I wrote About Being a Dad

When I first saw the assignment for week two, my first reaction was, "Oh. My. God." We had to write about a day in the life as the opposite sex. So I made it an homage to the woman I know the best. Enjoy Freaky Friday.

The post I thought would win me the whole damn thing was a very emotional one I wrote for the finale about The Best Dad I Know.





Auditions begin TODAY. So I urge you to get involved. If you are a blogger looking to get established, to have your writing critiqued by bloggers who are established, and to showcase your writing to a new audience, this is a great opportunity. Follow Blogger Idol on Facebook and Twitter for updates. Even if you don't audition, I urge you to follow because you WILL connect with these contestants. I promise. They all will inspire you when they pour their hearts into their posts. Let the competition begin.

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The Story of the Hurricane

There are certain images that come to mind every time I hear "Hurricane Isaac." I wish I could tell you the first one was this:

(That's Sir Isaac Newton)

But no. One of the greatest scientists and mathematicians of all time is not the first Isaac that comes to mind. Neither is he: 

That's renowned violinist
Itzhak Perlman

Yes. I just dropped an Itzhak Perlman reference on you. ("Itzhak" is the Hebrew form of "Isaac.") Unfortunately, I am not as highbrow as you or even I may think I am. So, probably like most of you, when I hear "Hurricane Isaac" I think of this:

Ted Lange as Isaac, Your Ship's Bartender

What can I say? I am a child of the 80's with an overflowing fountain of pop culture knowledge.

All kidding aside, it will be a while before I forget preparing for, and bracing through, Hurricane Irene a year ago this week. I pray for those in the path of Isaac, especially the people and city of New Orleans. It's hard to believe it's been a year since Irene. We were fortunate not to have too much damage. Still, the whole experience was nerve-racking. Please take some time to check out the posts inspired by the storm:

Peanut and I weathered the storm without My Director. Peanut never  knew how nervous I was since it was up to me to provide her Shelter From the Storm

They say you can tell a lot about a person by how they act in times of stress. Well, Peanut earned a special treat when she showed me that no matter what's happening, honesty is always The Best Policy.

When I finally got the mess cleaned up, it was nice to say Goodnight, Irene to the storm, its aftermath, and everything it damaged. 

Shortly thereafter, we got around to waterproofing our basement. After a series of shady guys paraded through our house, we found a trustworthy (and handsome) guy to fix our Water Down Below. (He's right there on the left.)

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The Boys of Summer

The Yankees were playing the Mets earlier this season. Unlike most fans of either team, I do not enjoy the annual "Subway Series." Why? Because it's a no-win situation for the Yankees. What I mean is, when they do win, it's no big deal because that's what's expected. When they don't, it IS a big deal because they're expected to win. (Cry me a river, I know. I'm currently accepting donations to my new charity, Spoiled Yankees Fans Non-Anonymous.)

The third game of the Yankee Stadium half of the series entered the bottom of the ninth inning tied. The Yankees had already won the first two games. I rarely if ever watch an entire Yankees game. (Who has the time or the patience?) But I made an exception for this one.

Peanut, her love of the game or lack thereof already well documented, was getting antsy. She kept asking to watch - what else - Doc McStuffins. I told her she could after the game. My Director deemed this an equitable solution. Soon thereafter, Russell Martin hit a home run to win the game for the Yankees, sending the Stadium into euphoria and Peanut into McStuffinsville:

Touch 'em all, Russell. (photo from here.)

In my excitement, I proclaimed to Peanut:

"That's why we root for the Yankees. Because they're the best."

I admit, that was arrogant. But don't worry, My Director quickly cut me down to size:

"Then why do we root for the Jets?"

I had no answer. This is why, despite what you might infer from how I acted in the brief story I told above, I am not your typical arrogant Yankees fan. Since I am also a hard-luck, broken-hearted, never-say-die Jets fan, I know I am blessed with my baseball allegiance. This is also probably why I have shared so many Yankees stories over the years. (That and their connection with my dad.)

Please take some time to catch up on some DKL you may have missed. I have been doing this on summer Mondays, telling a new story and then following it with a list of links to previous posts about that topic. This week's subject, you may have guessed, is baseball. Enjoy:

As I mentioned above, we thought Peanut's newfound baseball ability would translate into a love of the game. It didn't, as I recently explained in The Peanut Gallery: Play Ball"

When Mariano Rivera went down with a season-ending injury earlier this year, I was very upset. I thought it meant his career was over and I'd lost one more connection to my dad. But then I learned that Legends Never Die.

My dad's favorite player was Mickey Mantle. And for that reason, his name and number are a part of Baseball Immortality in my house.

One of my favorite Yankee Stadium memories is of one non-Yankee's performance. It's Why I Root For Josh Hamilton.

While my dad loved Mantle, he HATED Bernie Williams. It was so irrational it was funny. I made sure it didn't come up when I had a Brush with a Legend

I made sure Peanut was witness to history when Derek Jeter reached 3,000 career hits. She was not impressed or amused with his Puttin' on the Hits

I crossed off an item from my bucket list when I got to watch the Yankees win the World Series in person. My Director helped make this Once in a Lifetime experience happen.

One of my favorite memories of baby Peanut is taking her to her first and only game in the old Yankee Stadium, before they tore it down. It was very hot that day so I called it "I'll Stop the World and Melt with You."

Previous subjects of my summer retrospective series: My Director, Christmas, our trip to Disney, the swagger wagon, and favorite songs.

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The Junk in My Trunk

My phone rang on an otherwise routine Tuesday. As they once joked on Seinfeld, Tuesdays have no feeling. But that was all about to change drastically. On the other line, My Director hit me smack in the face with a pungent problem:

"The car smells really bad. Are you sure you cleaned all of the milk that spilled?"

When I came home from grocery shopping on Sunday, I opened the trunk only to find a grocery bag filled with milk. The plastic gallon jug had cracked open somehow. I performed what I thought was a thorough cleaning. Apparently not.

"I think I know what happened. I probably missed some of the milk that got into the crevices of the molding." 

"Can you COME HOME EARLY to clean it?" (Mind you, she's home.) 

"Are you serious?" (When did I become Mr. Belevdere?) 

"It smells really bad. Peanut says it smells like garbage. And it really does."

I was later informed that upon pickup from camp, the swagger wagon smelled so bad that Peanut actually cried when she got back into the car. Regardless, I arrived home at normal time. After getting dinner started (Reminder: I'm a catch, ladies), I checked out the car. This is what I found:

Quoting Shawshank:
"Smelling Foulness That I Can't Even Imagine."

This is why doctors don't like to make a diagnosis over the phone. Because once I saw it for myself, I could see and smell that my initial assessment was WAY off. The milk had seeped under all of the beach chairs and toys I had stored back there for summer. (You see, I always like to be prepared in case a spontaneous beach emergency pops up. Who needs to waste time carrying all of that stuff fifteen feet from the garage to the car?) But here, my readiness backfired because I had no idea of the real mess the milk had caused. On Sunday, I just  cleaned what I saw, ignoring the principal law of spilled-fluid dynamics stating that milk goes anywhere it damn well pleases, especially where you can't see or reach it.

My Director hosing off the emergency beach supplies.

Since I do not have the capital to install smell-o-vision technology for you here on the DKL site, let me describe it the best way I can. Disgusting, rotting, fermenting death. Or, as I stated on the DKL Facebook page at the time, I officially knew what Henry Hill felt like after moving the body of Billy Batts in Goodfellas:


Cue tons of Resolve, baking soda, hours of vacuuming, and then an overnight fabric softener mask:

Thanks to my my friend Dave at
Musings of Munch for the suggestion.

The next morning the swagger wagon smelled considerably better... until it got hot out. More baking soda, more vacuuming. There was still a smell, but it wasn't nearly as foul as the day before. And those dryer sheets did help big time.

As My Director and I drove to an appointment later that day, I said:

"I kind of feel like this is what it's like to drive in a dryer."

"Or a garbage truck." 

"Yeah. Or a garbage truck IN a dryer."

Every morning, My Director and I have a quick phone conversation as she's starting her day and I'm putting together my show. My first question is always some form of, "How's Peanut?" Now? My first question is, "How does the car smell?" Suffice it to say, as we approach its second birthday our beloved swagger wagon has forever lost its new car smell.

(Please take some time to catch up some DKL you might have missed. I've been doing this on summer Mondays, telling a new story and following it with links to previous posts about that subject. Today's story allows me to reintroduce a topic I don't often bring up: our swagger wagon. Enjoy:) 

Inquiring minds wanted to know how we survive as two working parents with one car. So I answered with Dude, Where's My Car?. (This post is nostalgic now, since My Director took a new job in our town and now does pickup herself.)

I do have what some might describe as an unhealthy love for my swagger wagon. It's all because I sometimes wish the rest of life could be as easy as my minivan makes things, with The Push of a Button

We almost lost our beloved swagger wagon during a destructive autumn snow storm last year. See how close we came in The Joys of Homeownership: Jersey Chainsaw Miracle

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The DKL #Disney Adventure

We had finally done it. We had finally bitten the bullet and given in. Not only did we take Peanut to Disney World, but we took her to celebrate her fifth birthday, no less. So much for not spoiling the kid. So much for being fiscally responsible. Circumstances made us realize life is short, that she's only this age once, and we should strike while she her princess-loving iron is still hot.

So, for five days, four nights, we basically tortured our child for her birthday:

She wouldn't wake up on morning #2

She slept any chance she got

Our first full day brought us to the Magic Kingdom. It was Peanut's actual birthday. So we booked a fun breakfast where we got to meet Winnie the Pooh and friends:

The least he could do is put on some pants

We made sure to hide the bacon
when Piglet came around

Full bellies didn't stop us from braving the rides. Shortly after breakfast, we learned that Peanut's favorite was - drum roll, please - Pirates of the Caribbean. Surprise, surprise:

We got caught in cannonball crossfire

Lammie got put in jail

As we left those scalawags behind and headed back out into the now-afternoon sun, My Director, eternal head of our itinerary, declared, "We're going to go spend some time in Fantasy Land now."

To which I responded, "Will you be changing into a plaid skirt and knee highs?" (Rawr.)

More than four months after our whirlwind Disney Adventure, we're still talking about it in the DKL household. Peanut still asks when we're going back. Good question, Peanut. How about getting a job and pitching in some coin? (We just keep saying "soon.") We'll see how long that works.

((DISCLAIMER: This is the third in my summer series of "retrospective" list posts. If you haven't guessed already, this week's topic is our trip to Disney World.))

The first thing you need to know about the trip is that I only agreed to go if we went with my in-laws. You read that right. And I insisted that we stay in the same room with them. You read that right too. I had good reasons, but still, "What the Hell Was I Thinking?"

That decision, you might imagine, left my mom excluded from the trip. Granted, I probably made some missteps in the execution of this very delicate part of our plan. Still, the ensuing conversations with her led me to dub my mom "Queen of the Guilt Trip."

Once in Disney our mission was clear: find and meet as many princesses as possible. But nothing could have prepared us for what we saw when we came face-to-face with Cinderella and her family. Prepare to laugh at "Castle Confidential."

I went to great lengths - literally - to make sure Peanut met her favorite princess. You can see more in "The Princesses and the Peanut Gallery."

The trip was not without its internal family drama. In fact, Peanut and I both had a meltdown at the same ride, at the same time. I call it "The Splash Mountain Double Meltdown."

When we got back home, Peanut and I were discussing which dinner show we liked the best. She seemed to have a selective memory about her enjoyment of one them, creating a "A Difference of Opinion."

Finally, I thought it was appropriate to put all of my advice into a rare "tips" post. But it still has the same humor and sentiment you've come to expect from DKL. Maybe I should do it more often, since this is one of my most popular posts ever. Here are my "20 Things I Wish I Knew Before I Went to Disney."

To catch up on my other summer Monday retrospective lists: this one is about Christmas and this one is about My Director.

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