Feedback Friday (#35)
Okay, here's one for ya . . .
Have you ever wondered what the heck they were thinking when our esteemed legislators took less time than it takes Ashlee Simpson to lipsynch a song into oblivion, to pass a law declaring it henceforth illegal to possess 7 lbs. of crack cocaine with the intent to sell at a grossly inflated price to elementary school-age kids, but inexplicably . . . pimpin' out your ride all up in my face with the new Vanilla Ice-meets-the Chipmunks remix of Copa Cabana turned mercilessly up to 11 is still only a class C misdemeanor?
Somethin' ain't right . . . that's all I'm sayin'.
Biff, get back in your box!
Now that that's out of the way and we've all had a chance to loosen up a bit and most, if not all of us (at least those that remain) are thoroughly jiggy and such, maybe we should go ahead and snap a chalk line or something and get back on the seemingly straight and startingly narrow.
I actually goofed big-time last week (no surprise there). Much like the forgotten state of the holiday itself (and Dads in general for that matter) I totally spaced and forgot to pay my blog-respects to all the Fathers out there. As any loyal reader will attest, we asked you on Mother's Day what your favorite thing about yo Momma was, but glaringly missed the boat when Father's Day came around.
All three of you are nodding your heads in silent, condemning agreement.
Sorry about that.
Here's the payoff - This week we're gonna go where we should have gone last Friday.
The assignment for the week is to tell us all about your Father. Share with the reading masses your most treasured memory of good ole' Dad. It might be how he always asks if you are passin' your classes even though you've been out of school longer than you were in it. Maybe it's your favorite memory of how you used to shoot fireworks off together in the cotton field dirt of West Texas. Hey, it could even be as subtle as that reassuring feeling that he always gave you that he was really in love with your Mother and wasn't ever going to leave.
This is the place and time to get sentimental, people.
Go ahead . . . you're on the clock.
Should be interesting . . .
Ben O.
Have you ever wondered what the heck they were thinking when our esteemed legislators took less time than it takes Ashlee Simpson to lipsynch a song into oblivion, to pass a law declaring it henceforth illegal to possess 7 lbs. of crack cocaine with the intent to sell at a grossly inflated price to elementary school-age kids, but inexplicably . . . pimpin' out your ride all up in my face with the new Vanilla Ice-meets-the Chipmunks remix of Copa Cabana turned mercilessly up to 11 is still only a class C misdemeanor?
Somethin' ain't right . . . that's all I'm sayin'.
Biff, get back in your box!
Now that that's out of the way and we've all had a chance to loosen up a bit and most, if not all of us (at least those that remain) are thoroughly jiggy and such, maybe we should go ahead and snap a chalk line or something and get back on the seemingly straight and startingly narrow.
I actually goofed big-time last week (no surprise there). Much like the forgotten state of the holiday itself (and Dads in general for that matter) I totally spaced and forgot to pay my blog-respects to all the Fathers out there. As any loyal reader will attest, we asked you on Mother's Day what your favorite thing about yo Momma was, but glaringly missed the boat when Father's Day came around.
All three of you are nodding your heads in silent, condemning agreement.
Sorry about that.
Here's the payoff - This week we're gonna go where we should have gone last Friday.
The assignment for the week is to tell us all about your Father. Share with the reading masses your most treasured memory of good ole' Dad. It might be how he always asks if you are passin' your classes even though you've been out of school longer than you were in it. Maybe it's your favorite memory of how you used to shoot fireworks off together in the cotton field dirt of West Texas. Hey, it could even be as subtle as that reassuring feeling that he always gave you that he was really in love with your Mother and wasn't ever going to leave.
This is the place and time to get sentimental, people.
Go ahead . . . you're on the clock.
Should be interesting . . .
Ben O.
posted by Ben O. | 11:34 AM
7 Comments:
My dad, huh? If somebody has wronged me, he is great to go to for some self-righteous anger. He is a procrastinator - I guess I get that from him. And, I found out today that apparently he is on Match.com. That's a little weird for me.
Apparently fathers aren't as loved as mothers, Ben.
...I lost my Dad back in '95 to a heart attack at only 69 years-old.
Sorry, no special moments with the FF. I spent 20-some long years trying to gain his love and approval, when I figured out it wasn't coming I gave up on him completely. I'm just sorry I tried for so long and so hard when he wasn't worth the effort.
Violet, Hale and Kathleen - Thanks for contributing . . . it sounds like Hale is right - Fathers ain't feelin' the love quite like Moms are.
Ben O.
And ode to my Dad can be read on my blog in about 15 minutes...maybe longer if people keep coming into my office to "talk"
Ben, I remember the fireworks in the cotton fields in West Texas for 2 generations but the memory of the little boys and girl who watched with wide eyes and played with sparklers are still vivid in my mind and yes your were "passing" and still are in my book, and Yes, I do love your mother-always have and always will.
To all readers, thanks for allowing me to respond in a personal way. Dad O
It makes me sad to read some of the comments about "bad" dads! My Dad was and still is at the age of 84 a most loving and supporting father. He was always there for us, and made sacrifices to make our lives easier. And he is not too macho to say I love you when we talk on the phone. Lucky me ... P.S. I am also married to one of the world's best Dads!
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