Pay Per View

I occasionally click around and visit the other Daddy Blogs on the old Internet. You know, market research and all. And, I gotta tell you, I was shocked to find that one of my fellow bloggers now requires a paid Membership to, I guess, view his daughter’s 7th birthday party pictures. He even has an Advisory Board. Seriously, an Advisory Board.

Now, I’m all for the Free Market and Capitalism and all. But, when your Daddy Blog needs and Advisory Board, don’t you think you’re taking ‘raising your kids’ (as required by law) a little too seriously?

(But there’s always profit to be made.)

Gentle reader, what would you pay to read my hilarious posts for a year? (Please tell me it is $99/year, like some people.) Maybe, you’d like my posts in book form. (Hint…)

(My posts are funnier than his, by the way.)

America, you are my advisors. Talk to me.

The Concert Master

My good friend Larry Rench semi-stole my thunder on this post on the Facebook. But no regrets or apologies are needed. Because, his post merely re-enforces what I have been saying for all these years:

At the Hollywood Bowl’s Live Performance of “E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial.” The actual 1982 movie performed on-screen by the LA Philharmonic Orchestra. Scored by John Williams. On the BIG screen, under the sky. With the stars. And, the occasional helicopter.

The orchestra warms up, then out comes the concertmaster (concertmistress, actually, because she’s a woman) under her own spotlight.

Julianna (she’s 11): Who is that?

Me: She’s called the “Concertmaster.” She’s the Number One Violinist.

J: Is she the Best in the World?

Me: Think smaller.

Isabella (she’s 8): In the Universe?

Me: Maybe…..: Daa Deee… Dadadada DaDeeeeee….

My New Dentist

So, we have settled on a new dentist, close to the girls’ school. But first, I have to get past the hygienist.

Maria: When’s the last time you saw a dentist?

Me: Maybe, seems like, a couple years.

Maria: Have you had any major problems with your mouth?

Me: No. But, I do say a lot of stupid things.

She is not amused.

Maria: With your previous dentist, did you have any goals?

Goals? Really? Like winning a Nobel Prize? Or scoring a Perfect 10 at the Olympics?

And, I actually said this:

Me: My goal is to not see the dentist for the rest of my life.

She remained unamused.

A root canal is ordered.