Dad's Camping Weekend: No Moms, No Rules

This weekend I am excited to continue a terrific tradition started by a great group of guys a few years back now simply known as 'Dad's Camping Weekend'.

Dad's Camping Weekend has grown into a fantastic late-spring event whereby 15-20 Dads lead their children into the wilderness (OK, 'wilderness' might be a little strong - we stay at a very user-friendly camp ground that has all the amenities...but nonetheless!) to spend two quality days and nights in the great outdoors.

The ratios are impressive.
The average age of the Dads is about 37.
The average age of the children is about 7.

I would say the kids out number the Dad's 2 1/2 to 1.  (yes, I know there are no 1/2 kids.....YET!)
The kids absolutely love this trip.  The wives view us all as 'Ward Cleavers' and are endlessly thankful to us for "giving them a break".  In my humble opinion, I think we are all brave souls and, without question, a pack a superstar father figures.

So, enough patting ourselves on the proverbial back and let me clue you in to a little secret (sorry, fellow Dad campers - don't ban me from the trip); Dad's Camping Weekend is as fun for the Dads as it is for the kids.

Here is why...

Unlike the traditional family trip, Dad's Camping Weekend is more focused on fun than flora and fauna.  Hiking, site seeing, and stick-whittling take a back seat to whiffle ball, eating and drinking.

While Mother Nature welcomes us with open arms, I am not sure Mother McCabe would approve of all of the comings and goings at camp.

And please admit it, Moms; when we add you into the mix, camping becomes like every other day in your household (i.e. there are rules).  Kids eat healthy, dress warm, brush their teeth, go to bed at a reasonable hour, yada, yada, yada.

At Dad's weekend, we set the benchmark for success pretty low. Basically, as long as no child drowns in the lake, gets lost in the woods, eaten by a bear (granted I have not seen any bears in the greater Rochester, NH region...YET!), lit on fire or contracts some poisonous rash- we consider ourselves model Scout Leaders and the trip a complete victory for Man.

Sure we bring more beer than band aids.  More cigars than sunscreen.  Sweatshirts become pillows.  Fingers become toothbrushes.  Gum becomes toothpaste.

You want cookies for breakfast?  Go for it!
Don't want to change into your pajamas?  I don't care.
Skin your knee?  Rub some dirt on it!
Bath?  Ba,ha,ha, ha!

Come Sunday, all bodies have been accounted for and we make that long trek back home to normalcy.  The kids may be a little tired and cranky.  The Dads are definitely tired and, dare I suggest, a little hungover (you know, from the intoxicating clean air)?

But hey, anything for the kids, right? ;-)

P.S. Don't forget to catch me on Patch as well, http://northandover.patch.com/

The Unemployment Chronicles: Pass the Grey Poupon...it's Royal Wedding Week!

The job search has been suspended!

No, I have not found gainful, full time employment, but that will need to be put on hold.  And why?  It's Royal Wedding Week!

Just when I thought I had reached rock bottom in terms of my self-esteem and confidence as a business professional I have stooped to a new low.  I am officially sucked into all of this Royal Wedding-hype like some sick, demented middle aged British shut in.  Truthfully, I have not paid much attention to all the hoopla until the past few days.  I saw the headlines, caught some of the news stories, but I have been on the sidelines in terms of engagement (sorry for the bad pun there).

AND then...last night...it started.  Dateline was running a special on Kate Middleton.  Intrigued?  You betcha!

Maybe it's just that I was tired, bored and nothing else on T.V. that peaked my interest?

Wrong.

Awaken this dreary Monday morning with my usual self-loathing for having no real professional purpose when suddenly I turn on Good Morning America to find it is all-things Royal wedding.  Not sure how much time passed until I realized the shower was running, the kids were downstairs screaming and doing God knows what and  I was totally immersed in Robin Roberts reporting LIVE from jolly old England atop a double-decker bus.

Look in the mirror, slap myself in the face and I attempt to 'man up'.  I switch the channel over to SportsCenter, but, frankly, after about 6 seconds I was tuned back into some OTHER morning talk show discussing the pending nuptials of William and Cate.  I can't fight it.

I ask you, what is wrong with me?

I was completely enthralled with the review of who got invited and who did not? 
Mesmerised by the talk of the procession through London. 
Amazed by all of the planning, the pomp, the circumstance. 
I am loving it!

So, again, what is wrong with me? 

Have I transformed into some sort of "English muffin"?  Morphed into a "Queen" of another color?

I am following EXTRA's Mario Lopez on Twitter to make sure I do not miss one minute of the action. 
I have DVR'ed 7 specials airing simultaneously to guarantee I am on top of all of the Anglo-Saxon-action! 
I just spent 10 minutes arguing with my 4 year old because she wants to watch Little Bear and I  KNOW I am missing great wedding gossip from the ladies of The View!

Anyway, enough time babbling on this foolish blog.  It's almost Tea Time.

Pip, pip, cheerio!
Frank

Fall from Grace

Of all the great jokes, stories, limericks and puns in the history of the world that make us laugh, there is nothing more funny than 'the fall'.  Falls have been the hallmark of untintential hilarity for centuries; and for my money, it still remains the best!

What makes falls so funny?  The shear surprise to both the victim and their witnesses?  The uncertainty of what caused the fall?  The embarrassment that the fall-ie will surely experience in the following minutes?  It really doesn't matter, but I challenge you to find me a human that does not love the sight of another person unexpectedly tumbling to the earth.

On top of that, the sick and demented reality of falls is the sheer lack of compassion expressed by those watching. Admit it, your first instinct is to laugh even if the fall-in-question has caused bodily harm.  Right?  If you answered 'No', you are a liar and I suggest you stop reading and throw yourself in one of those giant puddles that are now forming in the March thaw as pennance.

To make matters worse, the fall could be happening to anyone you know and it is always equally funny!  Your best friend. One of your kids.  Even Grandma.  Sure, we all do the fake "OH NO, ARE YOU OK?" and then run to the person's aid.  But, assuming no real damage has been done....bring on the chuckles!

May sound a bit cold (and I am admittedly one of the clumsiest goofs you will ever meet) but allow me to  relay a true story that remimded me of the comic genius of stumbles...

Very recently I was in attendance of a formal function (no, not the prom!) and witnessed a fabulous fall!  I was casually standing around, sipping a cocktail and enjoying the atmosphere.  I noticed a rather large, (and later I learned, inebriated!) woman approaching with heals as high as the Himalayas.  I noticed she looked a little wabbly and her friend was arm-in-arm with her.  As she closed to about 3 feet of where I was standing....BANG!  Down she goes, right in front of me.  Given my prim-and-proper surroundings, I did not belt out in a belly laugh (not yet anyway), but I did, however, freeze up.  This befallen, buxom beauty was 36 inches from me on the ground flailing like a Galapagos Turle that was tipped on its shell and I just stared.  With her friend's assistance, she quickly rose back up on those mountain high Monolos and limped her way through the crowd.  Embarrased?  Yes.  But, seemingly, OK.

And what do I do, being the mature, sophisticant?  RACE to my closest acquaintance and share the shame!  It was like I was the Village Idiot running through town spreading the good news of our Lord Jesus Christ!

And you know what?  I am fine with that because, as I said in the beginning, FALLS= FUNNY. 

Everytime.

Got a funny fall story - I would love to hear it!