2010 April

Tales from the Trips

April 9, 2010 By john cave osborne 18 Comments

As you head into the weekend, I hope you’ll take a couple of minutes to visit Susan Heim’s website. Susan is a highly-regarded parenting author (she has four kids, including twins!) in addition to being the editor of Chicken Soup for the Soul. She’s also very kind. So kind, in fact, that a while back, this incredibly busy woman agreed to read my book. To see what she had to say about it, click here.

Also, I hope you’ll visit my book’s website. There you’ll find book quotes, excerpts, videos, etc…

Tales from the Trips can be purchased on amazon.com and Double Up Books. You can also buy it direct from the publisher. (Copies purchased direct or from Double Up Books are signed!) For those of you in Knoxville, it will be in local bookstores soon.

Regardless of where you are, look to hear more and more about the book in the next couple of months, particularly as we inch closer to Father’s Day. (Don’t worry, I’ll try not to wear you out too bad…)

One last thing…I began blogging in November, in part to promote the book. Since then, I’ve been blown away by the number of great people who regularly stop by to read. Some of you are friends or acquaintances from around town. Others of you are people I’ve never once met. Some of you aren’t your typical blog readers. Others of you are blogging experts whose words I frequently devour, whose opinions I often seek.

Regardless of which category you fall into, please know how much I appreciate you stopping by. Before I began blogging, I’m not sure I understood the sense of community that comes along with it. It never occurred to me that by selfishly pursuing my passion for writing, I’d actually become a part of something. Something that’s incredibly big. Something that’s incredibly special. Something that’s defined as virtual, but experienced as real.

Yet that’s exactly what’s happened. Basically because of everyone who visits me, as well as everyone whom I visit. And I appreciate it. Very much. And I guess I just wanted you to know.

OH. And I also wanted y’all to buy my damn book, so what are you waiting for? Chop-chop, Pooh Bears. You’ll love it.

And if you don’t, I’ll refund your money.

Okay, that last part’s bullshit. But you should buy it anyway!

Have a great weekend.

Filed Under: My Book

Singing With The Triplets

April 8, 2010 By john cave osborne 31 Comments

Happy Fatherhood Friday, everyone. Head over to dad-blogs and see what the rest of the dad-blog community is up to this fine day.

Lovie and Pookie went out last night which left yours truly to take care of the terrible trio. Bedtime has been a real issue of late, particularly with C, so I was a bit worried about how I would fare. After all, Lovie is the unquestioned star of our little show, and though that show must go on, I couldn’t help but wonder how smoothly it would run without her on stage alongside of us.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a solid understudy. Ready, willing, and able to take center stage at the drop of a hat. But for me to carry the show, I had to alter the script a bit. Especially given the bedtime drama that’s been going down. So I decided to turn that drama into a musical.

You’ve heard of “Dancing With the Stars,” right? (I know. I hate Kate Gosselin, too, but more on that in a future post…) Well last night, I hosted “Singing With the Triplets.” Actually, I did more than just host. I also got my vocal on during dinner and kept it going through potty time and bath time. I hoped that by doing so I would not only make my trio forget about Lovie, but I’d also wear them out to the point where they’d fall asleep with little resistance.

Act I: Dinner. Once A, B, and C were in their highchairs, I grabbed their milk from the fridge. Cue the lights. Start the music. The first selection? A tribute to that which held their milk, sung to the tune of Kiss’s hard rock anthem, “Lick it Up.”

“Sippy cup. Sippy cup.
Whoa-oh-oh.
The lid’s on tight, now.
Sippy cup. Sippy cup.
Whoa-oh-oh.
Oooh yeah. Oooh yeah.”

The judges weren’t amused. In fact, they were growing impatient. And who could blame them? With all the singing, I’d forgotten about their dinner which I was heating in the toaster oven. Luckily, the food wasn’t burned. But it was hot. Very hot.

Cue the lights. Start the music. Time for some Billy Idol. While dishing up their sizzling meal, I sang the following to the tune of “Hot in the City.”

“Hot dinny-dinny.
Hot dinny-dinny tonight.
Hot dinny-dinny.
Hot dinny-dinny, s’alright.”

The boys liked it, but C wasn’t feeling it. Or at least that’s what I gathered when she offered up the following.

“Stop it, Daddy.”

All right, then. Intermission. May as well give the little monsters some peace and quiet while they gobble their goodies. Besides, I wasn’t exactly sure what I was gonna sing next, anyway.

Once dinner was behind us, I got the triplets out of their highchairs and instructed them to take a turn on the potty, but B refused to go (could he have been holding out for another song?). That’s when the next selection smacked me in the face. I went all new-school and busted out an altered version of Lady Ga Ga’s “Paparazzi.”

“Listen to your dad,
it’s time for you to use the potty.
I’m the
Potty Nazi.”

Maybe I was connecting with my son through the magic of music, or maybe he was just trying to shut me up. Whichever the case, B dropped trou and wobbled to the bathroom where he discarded his cloth shackles and hopped up on the big potty. Only one problem. His, um, deal-i-o was pointing north which meant the hardwood floor was getting an unnecessary watering. So I cued up some George Benson and sang my next song to the tune of his 1982 classic, “Turn Your Love Around.”

“Point your pee-pee down.
I can show you how.
Point your pee-pee down.
Gotta do it now.”

B smiled from ear to ear and, indeed, pointed his pee-pee down. Aside from the initial splatter, the floor remained dry. Crisis averted.

After all three had faithfully obeyed the Potty Nazi, it was time for a bath. And when C started crying after getting soap in her eyes, it was also time for a little Deep Purple.

“Soap in the water.
The burn is in the eyes.”

By 7:15 all three were in bed. The drama I was worried about? There was none. Well, except a little bit from C. She wanted to sleep in the boys’ room. So I scooped her up and deposited her in the extra crib before telling the trio that I expected them to go to sleep without a fuss.

When Lovie got home, she couldn’t believe the song that greeted her. Simon and Garfunkel’s “Sound of Silence.” It was literally the first time in weeks that everyone was fast asleep by 8:00.

“Oh, by the way,” I said, “C wanted to sleep in the boys’ room, so I moved her.”

“She’s asked to do that before, you know, and each time all hell breaks loose.”

“Well, it went okay tonight.”

“Really?” asked Lovie.

“Really,” I answered.

“What did you do?” she asked incredulously.

“I dunno,” I shrugged. “Just the same ol’ song and dance, I guess.”

*whispers to the audience*

The understudy’s a rockstar, y’all. Recognize.

Filed Under: Funny Stories, My Crew

Part II of My Interview With Ron Mattocks

April 6, 2010 By john cave osborne 10 Comments

Last week, I ran part I of my interview with Ron Mattocks, author of the fantastic book, Sugar Milk, and the man behind the extremely popular “daddy blog,” Clark Kent’s Lunchbox. For those of you who’ve never read any of Ron’s stuff before, I recommend you check him out. It won’t take long for his distinct voice and superior writing to suck you in. I also recommend you buy his book. I had the pleasure of reading it before it was released, and thoroughly enjoyed it. I’m looking forward to reviewing it sometime next week.

In the meanwhile, check out part II of my conversation with one of my favorite writers, my buddy, Ron Mattocks.

Lots of people believe they have a book inside of them, but few ever actually write it. Why do you think that is? When did you decide to write yours? And what was it about Sugar Milk that demanded to be written?

Everyone has a interesting book in them that defines their uniqueness as a person, but where the separator comes is convincing yourself that people want to hear that story. Once you can do that then it takes courage, passion and discipline to get it on paper. That’s the next hurdle. I started Sugar Milk about six months after started feeling sorry for myself over losing my job. I felt like the experience had to written about because there were so many others like me out there being laid off and stuck at home with the kids. My hope was that Sugar Milk would show they weren’t alone in their feelings, and they could have fun with it too. I also wanted to have something to show for my time off, and more importantly, I wanted to have something tangible to leave behind for my kids to see that I loved them.

(The following question asked with tongue firmly planted in cheek.) Your man crush on the uber-sanctimonious Chris Martin of Coldplay is well documented. (Okay, maybe an exaggeration, but Ron does admit the he loves Coldplay, so you do the math.) Me personally? I’d rather mud-wrestle with Adam Lambert than sit across the table from that self-absorbed clown. He’s like Sting multiplied by Bono. Squared. What is it about him that evokes such drastically differing opinions? And what is it about him that you like so much?

Hahaha! That’s the most hilarious question anyone’s ever asked me! Actually I’m not a big Chris Martin fan. I like the band and the music, but beyond that, eh. I know a lot of people things they’re… a less than manly band, so really I play up my fandom as a self-effacing gimmick. Truth is I’m more of a Nirvana, Foo Fighters, Red Hot Chili Peppers, sort of guy.

You and I have both written memoirs. Part of that process means putting yourself out there a little. Does that ever concern you? If so, how do you deal with those concerns?

Sure. It’s scary opening up like that. Friends and family in my hometown that haven’t heard from me in years are going to have their image of me shattered. Others are going to laugh at me for all my dating blunders and some are going to see me as a cry-baby over my depression-induced confessions. But being vulnerable also makes us real to others and that’s what people can relate to; so if people can find something in the story they can connect with then that’s the payoff in putting myself out there.

Now that you’ve been out there for a while, you’ve become pretty well-known by much of the blogging community. Do you find there are any mis-perceptions out there about you? If so, what are they?

I’m sure there are all kinds of mis-perceptions about me out there. Blogs to a large extent mimic our personalities, so if there are mis-perceptions about me with those I have physical contact with then I’m sure there are mis-perceptions about me in the blogosphere. But if there are any consistent ones out there, I don’t know what they would be. Why, what have you heard?

Any advice for new bloggers out there?

Of course this is just an opinion, but the maxims I’ve learned over three years of this is: 1, Find/fit into a community; 2, forget about compensation; 3, focus on good content.

Beach or mountains? Boxers or briefs? Steak or chicken? Drama or comedy?

Mountains with water view. Boxer-briefs. Chicken Fried Stake. Damady. – I pride myself on seeing both sides of an issue.

What is Sugar Milk about? One sentence.

How many conjunctions can I use? Okay. Clueless dad liberally uses sense of humor to overcome life obstacles and selfishness to become a better father and stronger person.

Thanks to you, John for having me and to John’s readers for reading my drivel.

Ron, the pleasure was all mine. And thank you, my good man, for all your fine work.