Dick Soup

I went for a swim last night. It was nothing impressive. Nothing brave or manly like taking a swim in the ocean or the malaria infested L.A. river near my home. Instead I flailed and kicked and struggled my way up and down the slow lane at the gym pool for an exhausting and unimpressive 20 minutes. To reward myself for not drowning I decided to end my evening by relaxing in the communal hot tub.

I thoroughly enjoy exercising. After a hard 60 minutes of sweating on a treadmill and straining to push weights that would impress no one, I like to reward myself with a nice long steam bath. Occasionally I step into the sauna. After my swim yesterday I decided to remain in my swim trunks and unwind in the hot tub. I am a member of a new fancy gym. It’s three stories tall in the heart of downtown with all the services you can imagine. Expansive locker rooms, pool, indoor track, basketball courts, even massage rooms. In the lockeroom there is also a steam room, which I love, sauna, and whirlpool hot tub. At first I thought putting the hot tub in the locker was genius. It’s there to provide relaxation and nothing is more uncomfortable than sitting in close quarters topless with someone of the opposite sex. Hell, I even get bashful taking my shirt off around my wife after a big meal.

“Take it in babe, look at all this beautiful gut you married.”

I never anticipated that the same aspect of jacuzzi exclusivity I once thought of as genius would have a dark side. Before entering the whirlpool I always shower. Not a full soap and lather shower but enough to rinse the sweat and gym funk off my skin. It’s a shared hot tub, I’m sure the common courtesy is appreciated by my fellow gym rats. The moment I stepped into the empty spa I could feel my troubles drift away. Once I was knee-deep I could feel the stress of parenting a spirited two-year old release itself from my pores. Once I was waist deep I could feel the argument Mommy Moneybags(MM) and I had about the lack of gas in her car– drift away. Once I sat down chest deep in the steaming hot water, I could feel the constant stress of watching daily televised klan meetings masquerading as political rallies– evaporate away. Ahhh, I was relaxed. I closed my eyes. I had found my moment of zen. Then there was a disturbance. Something large and clumsy splashed about beside me. It sounded like a drunken hippo had stumbled down the stairs and splashed into the corner area across from me. When I open my eyes another gentleman was also chest deep in the water and looking right at me. He gave me a wink and smile. He seemed friendly. A little creepy but friendly. I decided to name him Buddy. I kept an eye on Buddy for a minute or two until I trusted him enough to drift back into that zen-like state. Before my eyes could fully close my tranquility was shattered. Not long after Buddy sat down he was followed by another man. I only saw him coming out the corner of my eye. I decided to take Buddy’s approach and welcome the new comer in with a wink and a smile. Hey, maybe that’s how they do things at this gym. So I turned my head with a smile from ear to ear only to be rudely greeted by a pale uncut dick! I couldn’t move. I was stuck in a state of shock. Like when you go to quench your thirst and mix up your glass of water with the glass of vodka sitting right beside it. C’mon, I can’t be the only one drinking vodka by the glass with an ice water chaser. Either way, there I was stuck watching some dude and his bare penis disappear into the same body of water I was sitting in. I was outraged! This wasn’t his personal bathtub. This wasn’t some clothing optional pool party from the 70s that could break out into free love and cocaine at any minute. This was the public spa at the YMCA damnit! I couldn’t even make eye contact with the guy. I just stared at my new friend Buddy with a smirk. One of those “can you believe this guy?” kind of looks. Buddy just kept on smiling, always the optimist. I frantically searched the many signs covering the wall looking for a “no-nudity” rule to gesture toward when a third gentlemen entered the small enclosure. He stepped over toward the coat hooks on the wall and proudly removed the towel around his waist only to reveal, yet again, nothing. As in no bathing suit. He then gleefully stepped into the now overcrowded whirlpool and sat down right beside me. I was again outraged. I felt violated. I looked angrily at the two naked men. The first seemed peaceful. He had closed his eyes and found his happy place. Just like me before I was rudely interrupted. I wondered what he was daydreaming about. Probably some Caribbean nudist resort where prudish bartenders like myself had to serve mai tais all day in uncomfortably close proximity. I peeked over at the second guy. He looked deep in thought. Probably pondering the negative consequences to his sperm count by allowing his bare balls to boil in a hot tub full of other innocent men. I looked over to Buddy, he looked back over to me and then over to the submerged staircase. He too was planning his escape. With a quick nod he stood up and made his way over. Buddy, like myself, was surely thinking, F#@% this, I’m out. I would soon follow. He gave me one last wink when he reached the stairs and began to make his ascent. I looked upon Buddy fondly. Like an ally and a friend. Someone that also saw the ridiculousness of the situation. That was until he reached the third step and his bare hairy ass was revealed to me. C’mon Buddy! Has the world gone mad!?! Not you too??? The gravity of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. This whole time I had been in there marinating with a bunch of guys and their johnsons hanging out. It’s like we were making dick stew or something. The only thing missing was some Looney Tunes character standing over us slicing carrots and onions into the pot. OMG I was cupping some of that water in my hands and splashing it on my face!!! Needless to say, I stood up and quickly left.

I accept that I work out at a busy gym where people feel free to walk around the locker room in their birthday suits. It’s all good, man. Do you. I don’t turn my nose up when guys step into the sauna without rinsing off in the shower even though there is clearly a sign on the door instructing gym members to do so. I’ll even forgive the guy** that passed gas in the steam room. Maybe the gas was really cramping up his stomach. And I guess letting it out was a better option than shitting himself in front of strangers. The point is, I have no problem sharing space and facilities with other strangers so long as boundaries are respected. Call me childish, immature, call me a prude if you want, but that will be the last time I step foot into that jacuzzi without deep sea scuba gear, or at least a wet suit.

**it was me

THREE THINGS:

Thing I learned today – I still have body image issues. It’s something that began when I was just a teenager. I was never really fat or anything, I was just fat enough to be teased. Teased by not only my classmates but some family members. Those are the ones that hurt the most. Please, think before you speak. That sharp hurtful little joke that provided you with 5 seconds of laughter can have consequences that last a lifetime. The one you hurt could be someone you love.
Random Thing – Donald Drumph is clearly going to win the republican nomination and promptly lose the general election. So what happens to all his passionate and angry supporters? They certainly aren’t going to feel any better. Scary times ahead.
Sports Thing – It’s a great time to be a Oakland sports fan!

Thank you very much for stopping by. This is the eighteenth Daddy Day By Day. This was definitely my most immature post to date. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you have any questions, rants, feelings, anything positive, please feel free to email me at daddydaybyday@gmail.com or simply comment below. Please click on one of the two “follow my blog” links on the right. For you mobile users the links are at the bottom of the page. Talk to you soon…

At The Playground

“Let’s go to the park.”

Another one of Mommy Moneybags’s(MM) innocent sounding suggestions that would no doubt end in stress induced drinking. Just like, “we should move in together.” And “let’s have a baby!” MM arrived home from work early enough to enjoy one of the few bright weeknights left before daylight savings begins in the fall. A few months back the city “revitalized” the man-made lake that sits in the middle of downtown. It’s the Los Angeles version of Central Park expect tiny, dirty, and no one outside of Los Angeles knows it exist. I suppose a better comparison would be, its like a plastic kiddie pool that flew off of someone’s pickup truck on the 101. But that was then and this is now. Now the lake has new grass, fresh water, free wi-fi, new trees, new birds, free wi-fi, a boathouse with a diner, AND FREE WiFi!!! Before, it was a nice place to walk my dogs but for the first time it looked like a place to bring my child. When we arrived my immediate instinct was to go back home. The park was dangerously packed. MM insisted we march on. As we made our way to the playground area Donny dodged bikes, strollers, dogs, patchouli oil scented hippies, and of course the local Creepy McCreeperson. I always keep an eye out for the creepers. On our stroll to the playground Donny encountered another child that was nearly his exact age. I saw him coming from a mile away. He was out of control. Like the Looney Tunes Tazmanian Devil with a juice box. My daddy sense told me this kid was trouble. His overmatched grandparents struggled to keep up with him as he approached Donny. **SMACK** This giggling little spawn of satan just walked right up and slapped Donny in the face. I said, “Hey!” because, well, that’s all I could do. Donny didn’t retaliate though a part of me wishes he would have. Maybe he’s already learned to control his temper. It took me 30 years to learn that. I was prepared to yank the kid by the arm and wave my finger in his face but I quickly came to my senses and realized that I couldn’t just do that. Could I? What if someone took it upon themself to do that to Donny? There would probably be an arrest – mine. What are the rules in situations like this? Certainly you can’t allow your child to get smacked upside the head by strangers. Where is the line between, kids being kids, and doing my job as the protector? To his grandparents credit, they immediately apologized and told the boy “no” while trying to politely laugh it off. I guess that’s sufficient. What do I expect, a handshake, a formal letter of apology, from a 1-year-old? I imagine if Donny would have been the one attacking another child I’d pull him to the side and make him understand, that behavior was unacceptable. At the moment I’m writing this blog Donny is flipping a box over and over in the kitchen while trying to fit different corners of it into his mouth. Maybe I need to relax on my expectations on the behavior and understanding of a toddler. After I got past “The slap heard ’round my head” (it took me much longer to get over it than MM and Donny), we continued toward the playground. We walked alongside the lake while ducks and geese called out to Donny to join them. Did I mention the lake has no guard rail.

And its man-made so the edge of the land is literally an edge with a cliff leading to several feet of water. Donny as usual showed no fear as he repeatedly tried to join his feathery friends. Our walk turned into a drag as we endured dirty looks from other people trying to determine if we were kidnappers or just mean parents. I didn’t care how it looked. This lake was closed for two years due to the filth of the water and Donny wanted to dive right in. Not on my watch. Finally we arrived at the swings, slides, and other large plastic kiddie obstacles. I was afraid to enter. Kids were flying around everywhere with no regard for the other children and frail calcium deprived adults around them. Just getting into the area felt like walking across the track at a NASCAR race. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It was too late to turn back now. I closed my eyes, said a quick prayer, and grabbed MM by the hand. I looked down to Donny to calm his nerves, he was gone…

THREE THINGS:

Thing I learned today – That I don’t have Ebola. And neither do you. So relax.
Don’t worry there will be a continuation of this blog very soon. I’ve been told my posts are too long. I’m on the fence about shortening them. Shouldn’t we all try to read more anyway?
Sports Minute – You know your team is garbage when your friends don’t even tease you anymore.

Thank you very much for stopping by. This is the eighth Daddy Day By Day. If the next blog is a part two to this one, should this be blog number 8.1 or 8a? If you have any questions, rants, feelings, anything positive, please feel free to email me at daddydaybyday@gmail.com or simply comment below. Please click on one of the two “follow my blog” links on the right. For you mobile users the links are at the bottom of the page. Talk to you soon…

Shots! Shots! Shots!

Like any first time father I am completely in awe of my son. I think he’s good-looking, funny, and a very quick learner. One of his more impressive qualities is his ability to “chill”. To just “kick it”. It’s one of the qualities that made me fall in love with Mommy Moneybags(MM). But let’s be honest, he gets it from his daddy. He seems to adapt well to whatever environment he finds himself in. As long as it’s not his Aunt Skegee’s house. Donny likes to save his crying fits for the date nights that she babysits. Fortunately, she doesn’t seem to mind. His amazing adaptation skills were on full display when we took him to a bar. Before you judge, I didn’t know it was a bar at first. A good friend of mine was celebrating his birthday at a nice spot down by the beach. Just a few steps away from the sand. He knew I would have my son with me so I assumed he was inviting us to meet him at a classy respectable establishment. Where children were free to run and play while their parents smiled, drank tea, and paid limited attention to them. Like a Chuck E. Cheese’s or Target. My friend’s parents were even going to be there. Like everything else at a beach, parking was expensive and a pain. In the parking lot it was a struggle to dodge all the assorted beachbums. Surfers, dreadheads, and bikers were everywhere. One hippie after another continued to stagger out in front my car as I searched for a spot. When we finally made it to the restaurant I had no hesitation going inside. It looked like a restaurant. There were tables outside, people were eating, children were smiling, dogs were begging. Then we went inside. It was noisy, crowded, and had a huge bar in the middle with lots of obscure sounding beers on tap. What good restaurant doesn’t have these things? I quickly found my buddy with his parents and the conversation and laughter began. By the time MM realized that we were in fact in a bar it was too late to leave. I had already ordered a burger and had a cold beer in hand. I was commited. My first instinct was to leave. I thought Donny couldn’t possibly be enjoying himself here. But when I really stopped to see how he was responding everything seemed ok. It was a beautiful day, we were by the beach, and Donny had already adapted to the bar scene. MM and I took turns holding Donny while sharing a scrumptious black bean burger and beer. Naturally my boy was hamming it up. Flirting with every woman who walked by. Flashing his signature grin and staring with his pretty eyes that seem to charm everyone he meets. It was turning out to be a really nice afternoon. A relaxing sunday with friends. Plus I had an excellent little flirty charming…umm…buddy with me. MM would prefer I not think of him as a wingman. However, there was one misstep. As the noise level grew we decided to go ahead and retire to the beach. As I waited to pay and tip our polite and hardworking waiter MM decided to take Donny outside. That’s when he lost his cool. Like a drunken frat boy Donny reached out and grabbed the hair of the prettiest girl he saw. He yanked and wouldn’t let go. How could I have let this happen? How could I let so much time pass without teaching him the finer points of being a gentleman. At least the basics; Compliment her dress, be polite to her parents, never grab her hair. But it was too late. The deed was done. The only thing left to do was walk over and take one for the team. The impending open-handed slap across the face. As I started toward them I could see her turn around to confront her attacker. To stare into the eyes of this brute whose father had clearly failed to teach him any manners. She turned and peered deeply into his bright blue eyes while simultaneously slowly turning into mush. Seconds later it was all giggles and baby talk. She thought it was adorable! Man, this kid gets away with everything.

When I reflect on that afternoon, I do think of all the life lessons there are to teach him. There are so many that I fear I’ll never have time to teach him all that I know. In this case, how to treat the opposite sex. I made plenty of mistakes when I was young. Mistakes that could have easily been prevented. Perhaps with guidance and knowledge as well as setting expectations for his behavior, he won’t make those same mistakes. We’ll start with the basics. When we are out we shall always hold the door and let MM enter first. We’ll introduce ourselves confidently with a smile and a handshake. And we will NEVER EVER freely yank on a woman’s hair.

THREE THINGS:

Thing I learned today – There’s this growing opinion that double spacing after periods is incorrect and unnecessary. I’ve even heard it described as rude. But it’s what I’ve always been told. Sold to me as truth. I decided to try it for this post. It feels so wrong. Do any of you have an opinion on this rising controversy?
MM and I never fight. Seriously we don’t. We didn’t decide not to ever fight, we just don’t. It’s pretty cool. However, there is something brewing. A possible rift between us…over apple juice. Lately the room has chilled whenever those two words are uttered. Maybe I’ll write about it in further detail.
Sports Minute – I owe an apology to Jurgen Klinsmann and the US men’s soccer team. At times they played pretty good. There were some bad mistakes but overall I thought they looked good. They still only went 1-2-1 but it gives me hope for the future of US soccer.

Thank you very much for stopping by. This is the fourth edition of Daddy Day By Day. A very delayed post due to the World Cup. I have a serious sports addiction. If you have any questions, rants, feelings, anything positive, please feel free to email me at daddydaybyday@gmail.com or simply comment below. Talk to you soon…