Mad World

"I wrote a story." The Elder Boy said, apropos of nothing, as he was getting ready for school a week or so in the rearview.

"Really? What about?" I asked.

Nothing. Just an ornery smile.

"What about?" I asked again. With his shit-eating grin I knew there had to be more to the story about his story.

"About Rudolph." He said. "We had to draw a Christmas picture and then write a story to go with it."

Then he laughed.

"Is there something about your story that is funny?" I asked.

"Yeah..."

"What?"

"Well, you know the story of Rudolph, right?"

Fuck me. Patronized by a 7 year old.

"Yes." I answered. "I know the story of Rudolph."

"Well you know how the other reindeer are mean to Rudolph...well in my story Rudolph goes into Santa's shop in the middle of the night and makes a gun and then..." He paused for dramatic effect. "...and kills the other reindeer."

"Excuse me?!?" I said.

"Because they make fun of him he sneaks into Santa's workshop..."

"I get it Boy. Rudolph goes postal." I said cutting him off.

"Postal?" He asked.

I cut him off again and said, "You didn't turn it in yet, did you?"

"No." He said with a puzzled look on his face.

"Thank God."

"Why?" He asked, confused.

"Dude, they'll think something is wrong with you if you turn that in...it would freak people out, bad."

"Really?"

"Really." I said. "They'll think you're crazy."

"It's just a story." He said defensively. "The other reindeer are mean to Rudolph..."

He started to explain the story again but I wasn't really listening at that point. I was busy wondering what I should do. I know my Boy. I know he's not crazy. Or at least not that kind of crazy. That he thinks too hard and has a dark sense of humor, which he more than likely gets from my demented ass.

After he was done explaining his story and drawing to me I said, "I get it son. I do. You have what they call a dark sense of humor. You get it from me. The more disturbing something is, the funnier I find it. But the thing is, in our world today, you can't do stuff like that."

"Why?" He asked.

How do you explain political correctness to a 2nd grader? And the horrible things he's never heard of that cause a certain amount of it, like the Columbine High School massacre? If I told him about that he'd never want to back to school, he'd worry so much.

"Why...it's just a story?" He said again looking for an answer.

"Son. I understand. I get it. But most people won't."

"Why?"

"Why." I said.

My go to move. Ever the dipshit. Answer a question with a question to buy time.

"Ok." I finally said. "I'm going to try and explain it to you but you need to let me get all my words out before you start asking me questions. OK?"

"Ok."

"I get that you are a sweet kid who has a dark sense of humor. I know you would never hurt anyone. You are tender hearted. Very tender hearted. You don't mean anything by the story. Well actually you do. You get the fact that the Rudolph story is sort of messed up...that the other reindeer basically drive him from his home and family because he's different. Which is disturbing. Rudolph should be pissed."

"Yeah," Ethan said. "He goes and lives with that elf and all those toys..."

"Yes," I said cutting him off. "I appreciate the fact that you look at the Rudolph story and see it for what it really is, a messed up story. I mean seriously, the other reindeer drive him away because he's different. And they only accept him when the thing they made fun of him about can help them get their job done. That's messed up. But the thing is Boy...most people don't look that deeply. They don't really think about it. Not like that. Not like you."

"Like that song about the muslins?" He said.

Fuck me. It's like I'm talking to a 7 year old version of me.

We have to back up a few days for the song about the muslims. It was a typical Mr. Mom on our way to school morn when Do They Know It's Christmas came on the radio.

"Dad." Ethan said.

"Yeah?"

"Why don't they know it's Christmas?" He asked.

"Probably because they are muslims." I said. "They lived in Ethiopia which is in Africa and many people over there are Islamic which is the same as muslims. They don't celebrate Christmas because they aren't Christians."

"Why." He asked seriously.

Not wanting to get into a full on comparative religion study on the extremely short drive to school I said, "I'll explain that later. Listen to the words of the song instead. Its a pretty song with nice voices and all, but listen to what they are saying..the words, 'There's a world outside your window, and it's a world of dread and fear, where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears, and the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom, well tonight thank God it's them instead of you.' Pretty messed up, huh?"

"Yeah." He said. "Why?"

"Most people don't listen to it that closely." I said. "They just hear the melody and the basic message and know it's about Christmas so they don't really think about it."

"No. I meant why are they sad and it doom?" He asked.

"That song is from when I was in high school. Olden times. The 1980s. There was a famine, which means they didn't have any food, and water was hard to find in Ethiopia, which is in Africa. All these English guys formed this band and did this song and the money went to try and help the people in Ethiopia. Which is a good thing."

Fast forward to what was then, now, and I said, "Yeah, like that song about the muslims. It's the same with the story of Rudolph. Most people don't think about it that hard. At least not as hard as you."

"Why?"

"Just the way people are, Boy. Everyone is different. What makes the world go around. But the thing is if you turn your story in, more than likely you'll end up in the counselor's office having to talk about why you drew it. They might think you see yourself as Rudolph in the story. That you are going to do something violent. Or you are being picked on at school."

"Really?" He asked, completely shocked.

"Yeah. And you'd hate that wouldn't you?" I asked. "The last thing you want to do is to have to go and talk to them about a picture you drew cause you thought it was a funny twist in the Rudolph story. Violent. Yes. And bad. But funny. I'd laugh if you turned it into me, and knew you didn't really mean it. That your over-the-top violence was to draw attention to how messed up the story is..."

"What?" He asked, confused.

"That's just a fancy way of saying that you have Rudolph doing something extreme because you are commenting on, or wanting people to see certain things about the story that they might not have thought about."

"Huh?" He asked, again confused.

"You are a lot like me Boy, we think alike, and that's what I think you are doing, I'm just putting it in grown-up words," I explained. "But I think it's what is going on with your drawing and story."

At least I hope so. I thought.

"I don't think your teacher would feel the same way." I added. "Probably freak her out, bad."

"Yeah." He said.

"I have a way I think you can fix it though, if you want?"

"How?"

"Just change the gun to something not so violent. Or something that is silly violent, like they do in cartoons." I said. "I imagine reindeer would be proud of their antlers. Maybe Rudolph sneaks into the shop and gets a saw and cuts their antlers down short so they look funny. They'd all have antler envy."

"Yeah." He said laughing.

"Or he gets some paint from Santa's shop and paints the antlers funny colors so they look silly. Maybe pink. Since they are boy reindeer."

"That would be funny." He laughed.

"Or you can leave it the way you have it, I don't want to censor you, which means stop you from doing something creative, but as your Dad, I have to warn you, if you turn that in, I think it's going to have consequences you won't like. You'll get attention from it you don't want. And you'll hate that. I know you."

"But I already drew the picture." He said.

"I'm sure you can make the gun into a saw easily enough." I offered.

"Or I could start over." He said.

"Yeah. You could start over. If you want to start over. It's ultimately up to you Boy."

We were both quiet for awhile after that. I had expended more words in this one conversation than I'd probably said in the past week. Plus I couldn't help but wonder if I had handled the situation correctly.

Should I have said nothing and let him hand it in and face the consequences? To see the reaction. Maybe I was overreacting? All young boys, to some degree, go through a violent death fixated sort of stage. The again, maybe I wasn't reacting enough and should be worried about the Boy?

In the end Dear Reader, I simply don't know. I did what I thought was correct. And I hope, even pray, that time proves me right.

A day later while watching Santa Claus is Comin' to Town I asked the Boy what he ended up doing. I figured he'd censored himself to some degree since I hadn't been summoned to school for a parent teacher conference. But I wasn't sure what he actually did so I asked, "What did you end up doing. About Rudolph?"

"I did the saw." He said which sort of made me feel bad if I'm honest. I hate censoring anyone, especially my child.

"Where's Rudolph." He asked watching the part in Santa Claus is Comin' to Town when it explains why reindeer can fly.

"Keep watching." I said.

And sure enough a few moments later the show answered for me.

"Oh," he said. "Dad?"

"Yeah."

"I had another idea for a story. If I didn't do Rudolph. You know the elf guy in Rudolph? Who is different too."

"I think his name is Hermey." I said. "He wants to be a dentist instead of make toys."

"Yeah. Well I was going to have him break into Santa's shop in the middle of the night, get a tool and..."

"Dude." I said interrupting him.

"...pull out all the elves teeth."

"Nice." I said. "You and your Yuletide revenge stories."

"Yuletide?" He asked.

"That means Christmas." I answered. "But seriously Ethan. Should I be worried about you?"

"Dad." He said smiling that ornery smile.

"It's just a story."

Until I BLOG again...And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad.

I wonder

Another recap post, 2007 style (Click hard for the 2004 recap & 2005 recap & 2006 recap.)

The only way to explain 2007 is to lift some words someone wrote about me on their blog: "...and had my heart break as I read about the death of his mother and the waves of aftershocks he continues to feel."

Indeed.

2007

Save you from yourself
January 16, 2007
A 'kids eat free' rant morphs into a somber tale of how the Elder Boy thinks too hard. Wonder who he gets that from?

And liberty she pirouette
February 15, 2007
The story of how an un-wanted rescue dog named, Gretchen, became Ruby the Dog. Unexpected twist at the end as I realize, probably for the first time since I'm a dipshit, the true ramifications regarding the finality of death.

I have no more than I did before
March 20, 2007
Another wheels off Mr. Mom visit to Oklahoma resulting in the Younger Boy choking in law room conference room. Crazy. Funny. And a little sad. To this day if you offer the Younger Boy a Life Saver, he'll ask if it is spicy and then recount this story.

Time knows your done
April 05, 2007
This entry about my Mom telling me her cancer was terminal is painful for me to read. Even the one about watching her die doesn't hurt as much. I think it is because I have regret. On this, I'd like a do over please. If only.

Shambala
May 04, 2007
Mr. Mom trip = wheels off moment(s) followed by more post-Mom-death funk.

It's just a moment - Part 1 and Part 2
July 17, 2007 & September 19, 2007
A two-parter! Has the great opening quote from my Lovely Bride: "Wow. It looks like we actually had a good time." I also curse the Teenage Ninja Turtles in a rainy parking lot, frightening a fellow vacationer.

Walk On
October 05, 2007
The story behind my necklace. It is wonderfully trippy and synchronistic and hard to believe (even for me) that I didn't embellish it for dramatic effect.

The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite
October 24, 2007
Classic Team Tinsley story about me reading to E's kindergarten class and his fear of my material.

Splish Splash
November 12, 2007
This post is timely (Wy just lost his first tooth on December 4, 2009.) We had been teasing him all week about letting E have the honors based on this very anti-Ozzie and Harriet moment.

This is what I do
December 07, 2007
This is a companion entry to the The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonite, and proof that My Lovely Bride deserves danger pay for putting up with my goofy ass.

Until I BLOG again...I keep on hoping for a new day, will I ever feel the same?

At the altar of the dark star

As promised in that end is nigh BLOG, these recap posts are self serving, and really nothing more than my dumb ass trying to make some sort of sense out of 265 entries on this here BLOG (Click hard for the 2004 recap & 2005 recap.) Which brings us to 2006.

If two words can define a year, my two words would be this: Fuck Me. 2006 sucked. Hard.

Looking back from the vantage of now, it is interesting to see how many of these posts deal with Mom dying of cancer. Even in the ones that never mention her or it specifically. It is there. Casting a powerful dark shadow over damn near anything and everything I touched.

If I learned anything from 2006, Dear Reader, it is this (lifted from The Little Prince, which you should read, if you haven't:) "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

Our culture isn't one that prepares us to deal with death. We like to stay away from it. Hide it. Not talk about it. Which is well and good until that inevitable day you are forced to deal with it, head on. That was 2006. Fuck me, indeed.

2006

Pop!
January 09, 2006
The first time I trotted out my Fuck cancer mantra, and one of the first posts that deals specifically with Mom's illness, albeit in a very elliptical sort of way.

Dino-Mite!
January 16, 2006
I heart this post. Truly. It is quintessential Elder Boy. Perfectly capturing his cautiousness while still showing his inherent sweetness. It also does a good job of capturing my goofy ass, what with my bad stock jokes and healthy fear of germs.

Those are some great names
February 06, 2006
Another post chronicling my bad sense of humor. I mean really, who else but me, thinks about porn while shopping for Rescue Heroes at Toys 'R Us.

The truth is the truth
July 17, 2006
Without a doubt, and to date, the most upset I've ever been with The Elder Boy.

When you said to me
August 06, 2006
At first glance, this entry might seem a bit mundane until you consider this. It is the first time I explain myself in regard to typing Dear Reader. It is also the first time I provide an actual out link to the video of the song I'm referencing in the title of the post.

Who's to say where the wind will take you?
August 29, 2006
Of all the posts dealing with Mom's demise, this and this are the most painful for me to read.

Am I too late?
October 18, 2006
One of my favorite Little Warrior stories. A brief ray of light in an otherwise dark time for this Team of Tinsleys.

I have got to leave to find my way
October 20, 2006
Since this is omphaloskepsis, let me state my love of the opening line: "Anger is easy. If anyone knows that, it is me." The balance of the BLOG however tells the very real story of how doing the right thing can feel wrong.

Filled with imperfect thought
October 30, 2006
This entry, about watching my Mom die, along with The Revenge of Matt Pogue bring the most people to the Team Tinsley BLOG via search engines. God only knows what they must think when they read my thoughts on Gone From My Sight, The Dying Experience by Barbara Karnes (which as I wrote is a truncated inverse version of What to Expect When You are Expecting.)

Filled with imperfect thought
November 10, 2006
A Boy named Stu versus the five stages of grief. Grief wins of course, adding insult to injury with me breaking down to The Living Years. Which is kind of funny. What is not, is me sharing more details of Mom's final days and the fact that her mortal remains were carried away (as it rained) in the back of a Dodge Caravan. Fuck me.

Post hoc ergo propter hoc
December 29, 2006
Man, oh, man. How prescient my title was for the final post of 2006. After this, therefore because of this. I also got to love my lead, "Where's her head." Truth really is stranger than fiction.

Until I BLOG again...Counting down ’til the pain would stop.

I don't know where I'm going

Omphaloskepsis, 2005 style. I got away from the dear diary vibe of 2004. Experimented with content outside the realm of Team Tinsley. And penned what is probably one of the funniest things that has ever happened to me (Hope Springs Eternal.) Actually two (If you smile through...) I also started using the term Mr. Mom (something I still do.) And penned what I consider my first truly good blog post about a Turtle named Tula. Not bad for a dipshit from Oklahoma. I didn't know it then, but 2005 were my salad days on this here BLOG. Storm clouds were gathering though, and 2006 would end up being dark and hard for this Boy named Stu.

2005

Fear Factor
February 15, 2005
Four and half years later and I am actually allowed to teach Sunday School at our church. A post that shows anyone can change, and everyone should face their fears, if only to make them less scary, and take away their power.

Goodbye to All That
February 17, 2005
The plug. How I hated thee, yet, when it was time for you to leave the Elder Boy via the Plug Fairy, I lamented your inevitable passing as I'm apt to do.

Let me take a long last look, before we say good-bye
March 04, 2005
I recently (in my end is nigh post) referenced and linked to this entry. I'm extremely fond of it. Consider it my first good post. Probably because it moves me. It captures a time and place in a way that lets me remember when, fondly. And if that isn't enough to get you to chase the link. Dig this. I make a strip club lap dance joke while referencing a hand puppet named Tula.

220...221 Whatever it takes
April 08, 2005
The birth of me calling any time I'm with the Boy(s) solo, a Mr. Mom moment (after the great early 80's movie by John Hughes, the title being a line from that movie.) Lately I've been doing these little Mr. Mom snips on Facebook. Many don't get my true meaning. They think My Lovely Bride is AWOL. Or in rehab. Or I'm being bitter by posting these moments. None of the above Dear Reader. I cherish all Mr. Mom moments, even though the wheels often come off during them.

Hope Springs Eternal
May 17, 2005
The prequel to Beat It, and maybe the most infamous Team Tinsley post ever. The absurdity is such, you might think that I embellished the story for comic effect. Alas, the answer is no. Good read for anyone who is or has ever suffered infertility issues (or simply wants a good laugh at a guy who was asked to masturbate in a public restroom.)

If you smile through your fear and sorrow...
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
A post that has nothing to do with Team Tinsley, but instead tells a funny, and sick, story of me shitting in a public park. Early on I experimented somewhat with telling other stories on this here BLOG. Ultimately I decided it should only be about Team Tinsley. As I look toward the end, I'm considering starting another BLOG where I write whatever is on my mind (which is scary, actually.) Stay tuned (if you give a shit.)

How do you do this?
July 25, 2005
Mr. Mom moment at Braums as I struggle with how to wrangle two young Boy(s), made more poignant by the fact that the old Braums is now closed (in fact we ate at the new Braums last night. It is one of Wy's favorite places to eat.)

The freaks come out at night
August 24, 2005
Another post that isn't really about the Team (again, I was experimenting with content back in 2005.) I wish yelp would have been around when this went down. I could have given Floory an excellent rating. Five stars for anyone who leaves a digital camera full of compromising photos at my casa.

I'm wide awake
October 06, 2005
Father of the year might have been born here, Dear Reader. A story where my bad, or you might say, inappropriate sense of humor rears it's ugly head, troubling those around me.

Help Me
November 28, 2005
Expanding on the Mr. Mom concept, only this time with substantial dialogue thrown in to fully capture the moment. Might also be the first time I call a convenience store, a Mingo store, since I'm doing dialogue (and that is what E called them when he was younger.)

Until I BLOG again...But, I sure know where I've been.

Sick Of Myself

Omphaloskepsis. Better known as navel gazing. That's what I've been doing lately. Looking back over 263 entries on this here BLOG. Getting ready for that final post (I do have my final song selected for anyone out there that gives a shit.) But back to now, I'm sick of myself, quite literally, after reading so many Team Tinsley posts. Some are good. Many bad. Some funny. Others sad.

It's a copious amount of Team Tinsley. That is for sure. And in my efforts to make some sense of it all, I've compiled a Top of the Pops type of list (chronologically by year of course) with some of my favorite posts. I've even went as far as to note why they are my favorite posts (again, for anyone that gives a shit.)

Here's the 2004 list. The year the BLOG started. It's odd to read some of these posts, stylistically. They have a very dear diary sort of a vibe. Still, you can see the start of what was to become (as well as my proclivity for certain goofy sayings and cursing.) Navel gazing indeed.

2004

Holy Crap: Once, Twice, Three Times A Turd
March 17, 2004
Beware the ides of March, indeed, in this early, kid shits, hilarity ensues kind of a story.

Beat It
April 25, 2004
Honesty came earlier on this here BLOG in this here entry about how I quite literally beat it, which is why I know the exact day of the Elder Boy's conception and the beginning of what was to become Team Tinsley.

The Revenge of Matt Pogue
May 14, 2004
My first foray into my back story while talking about a sad event that was happening in what was then, now. Oddly enough this entry is one of the top ones to bring people to the Team Tinsley BLOG via search engines.

Stop that noise
June 11, 2004
A short entry that illustrates the raison d'être of this here BLOG, telling the story of a simple moment that I would without a doubt, forget, if not captured here. It is also one of the first times I use dialogue in a post (for those keeping score at home.)

Lionel Richie is full of shit
October 25, 2004
Best early BLOG title (before I started using song titles or lyrics) EVER.

They say it's your birthday
November 05, 2004
The story of how I met the women who would become My Lovely Bride, and how she thought I was funny (read gay.)

Incredibles
November 17, 2004
The simple story of my first movie with the Elder Boy and how amazed I was by how fast it was all going. Fast forward five years into what was then the future, but is now, now, and all I can say is this: amen.

This is it
December 26, 2004
An entry dealing with my feelings on corporal punishment. Which is something I still struggle with as well as my thoughts on the end of the first year of the Team Tinsley BlOG. The best part of the post is the great quote from William Martin's, The Parents Tao Te Ching. These would be apt final words for that final entry.

My words are over.
I wrote them for myself,
that I might hear them often enough
to begin to understand them.
And as I begin to understand them,
may I begin to live them.
If looking over my shoulder
has brought you some pleasure,
I am content.

Until I BLOG again...You don't know how you move me, Deconstruct me, And consume me.