Comparing Fatherhood to a Hamburger

When I was young my family rarely went out save for Easter Sundays when after church we’d drive to the other side of the county to have lunch at a regional chain restaurant. For an eight year-old it was quite fancy, especially when compared to the only other eatery I had been exposed to, the one that served burger patties in a Styrophoam clam shell boxes and hadn’t yet introduced kid’s meals accompanied by little plastic toys. (Yes, I’m older than the Happy Meal.)

I sometimes think of this when I take my boys out to eat which is more than when I was their age but still just enough that it’s a real treat for them the same as it once was for me. This is something I try to keep in mind anytime we’re at a place without a drive through and it’s customary to tip. I try to make is special and memorable. I want them to look back and say, “Remember that time when Dad let us eat all the sugar packets and then have hot chocolate with dinner?”


Still Tuning In To Kentucky Basketball with TuneIn

Since my last post, the University Kentucky has beat, in addition to the then #6 Texas Longhorns, Eastern Kentucky, Columbia, and #21 North Carolina to maintain their #1 on ranking in men's college basketball. For all these games I was nowhere near a TV (and I don't pay for cable), so guess what? That's right. I used my TuneIn app to listen to the game, and like my original experience I was able to listen to each of the games without an issue.

What was even more fun was the TuneIn feature that tied in with my social networks to let me know which of my friends were available to follow, and which were following me through the app. This makes is fun to talk a little smack with friends who are fans of rival teams. But, hey, in case you feel outnumbered, you still have the option to interact with fellow fans in the comments section that come with every game. In this sense, TuneIn transcends simple radio in that it allows you to socialize with friends and fellow Wildcats fans (which is especially helpful when you live in a rival state as I do).


What's The Deal With Me And Kentucky Basketball? TuneIn

Fun fact: For a short (I emphasis short) period I attended Liberty University. Yes, that Liberty University, which, given the school’s history and depending on what side of the liberal-conservative fence you’re planted on, may or may not seem like an interesting choice for perusing my degree in—I think it was political science? Who knows anymore? It was 20-some years ago, but whatever the case, apparently that one semester was enough to qualify me for frequent (mail) flyer miles on LU’s alumni donations list. (I swear, I could move to outer Mongolia and those guys would find my mailing address within a week.)

I do, however, recall without relying on raw brain math, that it was the spring of 1992. Why is this particular bit of trivia so prominent in my mind? In a word: basketball. More specifically, March Madness. Even more specifically, The East Regional Finals in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on March 28th between the Kentucky Wildcats and the Duke Blue Devils. And to be even more specific I’m referring to “The Shot.”  


Porn: A Personal History

I am by no means a porn fiend. I have no enslaving compulsions that keep me shackled in front of a computer screen pulsating with digital smut. In fact, my feelings about porn in general are on par with the same ambivalence I reserve for the release of another Fast and Furious movie, which is probably the reason why the whole idea of porn addiction baffles me.

I’m not denying that pornography has tragically ruined lives, marriages, and families. It's just that when I think of addiction I envision gaunt junkies shooting up the second they get out of bed in the morning or douchey Wall Street brokers snorting lines in the company washroom during lunch—quick fixes that keep you high throughout your day. In contrast, it seems to me watching porn would require something of a significant time commitment, and who can free up those kind of hours these days? By the same token, another part of me, the part that tends to gravitate to morbidly extreme consequences, views addiction within the context of death. With drugs, you can OD. Alcoholics can get cirrhosis of the liver. Cigarettes lead to cancer. And porn? Heart attack maybe? Friction burn?

To be fair I’m not downplaying the reality of porn addiction. I’m only saying I don’t understand the mindset much the same way I don’t understand why anyone would take anything that comes out of Ann Coulter's mouth seriously or how so many viewers could manage to keep The Mentalist running on TV for seven seasons. Then again I have so much wrong with the dysfunctional chemical fruit salad that is my brain, a porn addiction might be welcome change.

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