Forget magicians, ponies or face-painting. Nothing says happy birthday like a foul-mouthed grandpa driving a fully loaded, shiny black, fast, ultra-performance two-seater completely un-child-friendly Chevrolet Corvette convertible. When my kids were small, this was how we did birthdays. Everyone wanted an invite. We heard it before we saw it. Like fireworks in reverse — engine roaring to make a grand entrance, the Corvette rounded the bend toward the house, Grandpa
While it seems the entire country is cleaning up and clearing out closets, cupboards, and creepy, crawly basements by saying good-bye to items that no longer spark joy, some people aren’t feeling the magic. Marie Kondo, the best-selling author of The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing is helping thousands (maybe millions with a new Netflix show), clear lives of clutter and keep only what sparks joy.
Today would have been my father’s 75th birthday. To honor him, I present here a partial list of Mike Mayer-isms, and encourage you to stick a finger in the cake at your next party. Colder than a witch’s tit in July. “Get your foot off the clutch!” Jesus H. Christ You’re a wart on the ass of progress. TURN. OFF. THE. LIGHTS. Humpin’ Jesus. Pay cash. Drive that car like it was made to
My dad died thanks to that asshole, lifesuck pancreatic cancer. On this somber anniversary, I want to share some of his very last, poignant words. (He had many others, and you can read about them here.) He went through a rapid decline, could barely swallow, and speaking was getting more and more difficult each day. We’d only get a few words out of him, every now and then. Sometimes he
The very same day of my last blog post back in January, my sister and I moved in with my parents to provide 24-hour care for my dad in his final days of fighting that assfuck pancreatic cancer. Sadly and gladly, he’s gone, and I’m proud to say the obituary I wrote with his assistance went somewhat viral amongst the 20-odd members of his Pawling High School Class of ’58. Here’s what I proudly