The polished man

It's been a little over a month since I last posted here, and judging by the endless flow of heartfelt emails and texts asking what was wrong, I've come to the conclusion I probably could've taken another month. Or two.

What I'm saying is thank you for your thoughts and prayers.

So here's the thing: when I think about other career opportunities from time to time, as many of my co-workers have suggested I do, hand model has never been high on the list. In fact it's never been on the list at all.

As you can see by the picture, unless I've underestimated the market for sausage-fingered, mildly spotted, chubby hands holding all kinds of consumer products, I'm probably going to stay where I am.

One other career I've opted out of is Photoshop artist. You can probably tell I tried to soften the visible wear-and-tear on my paws, although I'm not sure to what degree of success.

The one item that isn't photoshopped is the black nail polish on the pinky (really, what color did you think it would be?). Now I know what you're thinking, and no, I'm not going through my metrosexual stage or trying to upset my wife any more than I usually do.

There's a very worthwhile organization called Polished Man that raises awareness and money to fight violence against children. If you go to their website here, you'll get the whole story, including the reason a painted nail is the representative gesture.

Here's a fact: the reason only one nail is highlighted is because one child is a victim of violence every five minutes. It's a finger thing. And a math thing. And a sad thing.

If you want to support the cause, pamper yourself a little and get a nice manicure. And while you're there, ask them to polish one of your nails. Then go to the website and give time, money or support in any way you're able.

As far as jobs go, hand model is definitely out. But lending a hand to prevent children from being victims of violence definitely feels right.

The unimaginable

Mom wakes her up. Like every other morning, it’s a "5-more minutes" war of wills. Today mom wins. Not happy about it, she gets out of bed to get ready while mom heads back downstairs to make her a quick breakfast before she leaves.

Dad had to leave early for work, but he looked in on his sleeping girl before he left. Standing in her doorway, he smiled, thinking it was just a minute ago he was holding her in his arms, giving her a baby bottle. He thought sometimes day by day can seem like it goes on forever. But year to year, it goes by fast. Too fast. He makes a point to treasure every minute. He blows her a kiss, then quietly closes the door.

No time for the breakfast. She grabs her backpack, yells “Bye mom, I love you.” and heads out the door. She reaches down to pat her golden retriever Duke on the head as she runs out. Mom yells back, “Love you too honey.” but she’s not sure if she heard it.

Mom has errands to do, but she decides to take a little me time, and has a cup of coffee while she sits on the living room couch. She looks around at the home the two of them have made, and her eyes scan the family photos on the mantle. She smiles, thinking what a great girl they’ve raised, and how the world is going to be her oyster.

She picks up the remote and turns on the television, thinking she’ll catch a couple of back to back reruns of Modern Family while she has the chance. That show always makes her laugh.

At the office, dad is interviewing a potential new employee. While they talk about his past experience, the candidate notices the wood-framed picture of his daughter on the bookshelf behind him. “How old is your daughter?” “She just turned sixteen.” “That’s a great age and a great time – everything is ahead of her.”

On Modern Family, Cam is freaking out because Mitch has been hiding something from him, and mom is laughing so hard she almost does a spit take with her coffee. Unexpectedly, the show is interrupted with a Special Bulletin banner, and a very somber looking anchor man is suddenly talking about her daughter’s school.

At the office, dad’s assistant comes into the room, interrupting the interview. Dad says, “What’s up?” The assistant says, “I need to talk to you right now. It’s important.” He excuses himself for a minute, and leaves the office to see what’s so urgent.

Mom is crying hysterically. She’s frantically trying to reach her daughter on her cell phone, but there’s no answer. She has never prayed so hard or felt so helpless.

Dad is screaming at the computer, because he can’t get the video to work on CNN.com. He yells out to anyone listening “Does anyone know how to make this damn thing work?”

Mom decides to drive to the school. She tells the dog she’s sorry, but she’ll be back soon. She runs upstairs to get her purse. She comes back down the stairs so fast, she almost loses her footing.

All the way down the stairs as she heads for the front door, she’s telling herself over and over that her daughter will be alright. She’s a smart girl. She’s probably hiding with her friends, and they don’t want to make any noise and that’s why she’s not answering her phone.

Dad goes running out of the office, leaving his laptop, his jacket, his briefcase and his job candidate in his office. His assistant is crying.

Mom goes running out the door, about to slam it shut.

Then the phone rings.

The daily grind

Like the ability to make change and cursive writing, the fine art of driving a stick shift is rapidly disappearing.

As I mentioned in this post, most people couldn't name three kids who can drive a manual transmission. The real shame is because of that, they'll never get to experience the thrill of what I like to call "real driving." The speed at your beck and call. The precise control and coordination between foot and hand. The shame of being with your high school friends and stalling out on La Cienega just before Sunset and rolling into the car behind you.

Of course I made up that last one. Yeah, that's it. Made it up.

My first few cars were manual transmission, and I used to look for any excuse just to drive. At every red light, I felt like Andretti waiting for the green, revving the engine, giving the nod to the car next to me, ready to leave him in my dust.

Of course, it was a '71 Super Beetle so there wasn't a lot of dust. But you see where I'm going here.

Eventually, time takes it's toll in the form of children, and as any parent knows you always want to have one hand free to reach in the backseat and remind them where they come from. So inevitably the day comes for all of us where we give up the thrill of a stick shift for the convenience of an automatic transmission. We convince ourselves it feels almost as fast off the light. That's it's not so bad, which it's not (I'm good at fooling myself). Automatic really is a lot better at rush hour on the freeway, and that becomes sort of a mantra.

But if I'm ever stuck at a Hertz counter at a regional airport in farm country somewhere in the midwest at midnight - and why wouldn't I be - and all they have left is a beat up Ford Focus with a manual transmission, I'll be able to drive it.

Sadly, the 2015 graduating class of Driver's Ed can't say the same.

Emotionally loaded

It's 2:30 in the morning on a starless, black night.

You're suddenly awakened out of a deep sleep by the harsh sound of shattering glass - a sound you intuitively know means nothing good is about to happen. As you get out of bed to see what it is, extreme unease fills you. Your heart is pounding, all senses are on high alert. As you get to the bedroom doorway, you discover an intruder, a stranger you immediately recognize as a very bad man, moving quickly with very bad intentions down the hallway towards your daughter's room.

You see him, but he doesn't see you. Yet.

The question is what would you like to have on you at this moment. A phone to call 9-1-1 in the hopes they'll get to you faster than he'll get to your daughters' room. Maybe a baseball bat, so you can run up behind him (which he'll hear) and engage in physical combat with him. A flashlight so you can shine it on him and let him know you're there and exactly where you're standing. How about a whistle to blow, so you wake everyone in the house up making it easy for him to know where they are, and who the most vulnerable one is.

For me, the answer is a gun.

If this were the scenario in my house, I'd have no qualms about taking the guy out before he ever reached my kids' room.

I have friends who disagree strongly on this viewpoint. In fact, one of them recently posted on Facebook that you're a moron if you even own a gun. Obviously a much more emotional response to the issue than an informed one.

But that's what the emotion on both sides of the issue drives people to do: paint in broad strokes, and make assumptions that simply aren't true.

Everyone who owns a gun is not a moron, or a killer waiting to happen. I know people who own guns. In fact I know people who own arsenals. Their weapons are legal and registered. They're well trained, responsible people who secure them when not in use. They know and practice gun safety.

In the light of the Newtown tragedy, both sides have a hair trigger when it comes to the other. And it's irrational fear that's driving both of them.

I don't think there's any one answer, but we have to start somewhere. The 23 items Obama put forth today - from assault weapons ban to increased and in-depth background checks - is as good a place as any. I believe monitoring and follow-up should also be part of the mix.

It's ridiculous and ignorant in equal parts to think all people who own guns are morons, or all guns are going to be banned, or the government is going to raid your house and take your guns. What all this talk does is drive gun sales. And the most fearful people who are doing the buying are probably the ones who shouldn't have them.

Do we have a gun culture? Are our children exposed to too much violence? Does it have a detrimental effect? I don't know. Does playing with toy fire trucks mean they're going to grow up to be firemen?

These are all appropriate questions that deserve considered and thoughtful answers.

Right after I take out that guy on the way to my daughters' room.

Crazy control

Just when I said I didn't feel strongly enough about anything to post for awhile, this happens.

I didn't hear about the shootings at the midnight show of The Dark Knight Rises in Aurora, Colorado until this morning. My first thought was about the horror and sadness the victims and their families have been exposed to in this tragedy.

My second thought was that my son had gone to a midnight show last night, and thank God it didn't happen here. Of course the sad truth about that thought is it can happen anywhere. Unfortunately, crazy doesn't pay much attention to state borders or jurisdictions.

It knows how to travel when it needs to.

I won't try and make sense of it - there'll be pundits galore all over cable news tonight doing that.

I do know it wasn't the movie's fault. Warner Bros. has cancelled the Paris premiere, and pulled some of the advertising for the film indefinitely. Two things I believe they shouldn't have done.

For all the talk there's going to be about gun control, for me, here's the bottom line: more gun control laws wouldn't have helped. Colorado, like most states, already has a number of them on the books. But when crazy wants a gun, crazy gets a gun. You can argue a background check and waiting period might've prevented this, but crazy is also skilled at not looking crazy when it needs to. Ever see the neighbor interviews?

"He was always such a nice guy." "He was quiet but friendly." "He used to wave and smile when I saw him."

He bought the guns in his possession legally - in compliance with all the gun laws - from local gun shops. He purchased the ammunition legally off the internet. You simply cannot close all the loopholes.

For my pals against the death penalty, this is why you're wrong. He may plead crazy, but he was lucid enough to put on bullet-proof armor and buy tear gas first. There's no reason for this monster to be walking the earth. Hopefully it won't be years before the courts come to this obvious conclusion.

And while I'm on the subject, I think there should be a special category of execution for crimes as horrendous as this. In the same way that labeling something a "hate crime" makes one murder subject to a harsher penalty than the other, I think by creating a separate category of crime we could execute these abominations in the way they deserve to go.

And it isn't peacefully with an I.V. line in their arm.

All I keep thinking about, besides the victims, is the parents. As if there aren't enough reminders in the day you can't protect your children from everything evil in the world.

In the aftermath, all we can do is hug our kids, let them go to the movies and teach them that even though bad things happen, life goes on. Teach them fearful is not a way to live. That's what crazy wants. Don't give it to him.

And for as long as you can, hold the people in Colorado affected by this tragedy in your hearts, thoughts and prayers.

They're going to need it.

UPDATE: TDKR director Christopher Nolan's statement on the shooting:

"Speaking on behalf of the cast and crew of "The Dark Knight Rises", I would like to express our profound sorrow at the senseless tragedy that has befallen the entire Aurora community. I would not presume to know anything about the victims of the shooting but that they were there last night to watch a movie. I believe movies are one of the great American art forms and the shared experience of watching a story unfold on screen is an important and joyful pastime. The movie theatre is my home, and the idea that someone would violate that innocent and hopeful place in such an unbearably savage way is devastating to me. Nothing any of us can say could ever adequately express our feelings for the innocent victims of this appalling crime, but our thoughts are with them and their families."

We'll have a gay old time

You may have seen this video making the rounds today. It's an audio track of Pastor Sean Harris of Berean Baptist Church in Fayetteville, North Carolina telling his congregation to punch their children and break their bones if they exhibit any sign of behavior not gender specific.

I couldn't make that up.

So, a few things. Not that it makes him any less dangerous, but in no way do I believe this represents a majority opinion of the country's, or even the south's for that matter, pastors. Not even close.

He's an anomaly, like a two-headed snake. Or a viable Republican presidential candidate.

Next is that as scary as this guy is, even scarier are the homophobes - and really, what other name is there for them - in his church that are "amen-ing" every hateful thing he's saying.

But we know how this ends, right? Of course we do.

At some point in the very near future, someone will come out (see what I did there?) with pictures of the good pastor on his knees in an airport men's room, or dressed in assless leather chaps dancing to Donna Summer under the mirrored ball in a North Carolina gay bar.

Then that'll be that. His fifteen minutes will be up and hopefully he'll blow his brains (or whatever is in his head) out.

There's only one thing any pastor should be preaching to parents about their children.

To unconditionally love and accept them for who they are.

Rick Santorum probably didn't date much

I'm not sure, but I think I may have stumbled onto the reason Rick Santorum hates women so much.

He probably wasn't very popular with them. Exhibit A: the picture you see here.

In case you're not familiar with primitive points of view about women's rights or roles in society, all you have to do is take a look at any of Santorum's white papers on them.

He thinks pre-natal care shouldn't be covered by insurance, because really, "more often than not" all those amnios do is cause abortions - a fact supported absolutely nowhere. (While it's true there is a slight risk of miscarriage after amnio, it's between 0.5 and 1% of all second trimester amnios - which is the normal risk during that trimester even without amnios, so there's no accurate way to distinguish between the causes).

That's going to come as quite a shock to the majority of women who've had them and now have happy, healthy babies. And who had less stressful pregnancies because of the conditions, including Down's Syndrome, that an amnio positively rules out.

Santorum talks often about "the dignity of human life." Apparently that doesn't apply to rape victims. Santorum believes even if a woman is raped, she should be forced to carry the baby to term and then give it up for adoption. His wife shares this point of view as well, which is ironic since she used to live with an abortion provider 40 years older than her. In fact, he was the OB who delivered her.

As far as working women go, according to Santorum they shouldn't be allowed to go far at all given the havoc he alleges they wreak on their families. Here's his point of view on it from an article in the Washington Post:

His 2005 book, “It Takes a Family: Conservatism and the Common Good,” suggests parents in two-income families aren’t doing what’s best for the kids. Too often, he writes, both parents work when the family could get by on one salary: “For some parents, the purported need to provide things for their children simply provides a convenient rationalization for pursuing a gratifying career outside the home.” He described it as a sad situation created by “radical feminists” who undermined the traditional family by “convincing women that professional accomplishments are the key to happiness.”

As someone married to a working, professional woman, and the best mother my children could ever hope for, I find this point of view particularly offensive. But I imagine not nearly as much as every working woman does, with the possible exception of the women working to get this neanderthal elected.

It all sounds like something from a Saturday Night Live sketch. And points of view as outdated and irrational as these would be funny if this clown wasn't, for the moment, the Republican frontrunner.

If you go to Santorum's website, there's a tab at the top labeled "Why Rick".

My sentiments exactly.

Estate planning (laughs) What estate?

It's the holidays again.

That joyful time of year when we count our blessings. Gather with our loved ones. Celebrate tradition. Exchange presents.

And plan for our own inevitable death.

Years ago my darling wife and I drew up wills and a living trust. But with the new estate tax laws coming into play the first of the year (a tax which should be abolished entirely for everyone. Don't get me started...), our estate lawyer said it might be a good time to review the paperwork.

Good thing we died. I mean did.

The thing I worry about most is who'll take care of the kids in the event of our untimely death should that occur. I actually worry about it a lot. Every time just the wife and I are driving anywhere, I can't help but think we could be taken out in a heartbeat by some driver who decides to get in a head on collision with us (not unlike Christopher Walken in Annie Hall).

Of course, it's easy (or easier anyway) to talk about in the abstract. When we really start discussing who'll take care of the kids when we're gone, there are a lot of things to consider. Not so much financially, because we've put that in place for them. But who would raise them similarly, if not exactly, the way we would? With the same values we share. Who are the ones who will offer them the kind of unconditional love they'll need after the tragedy of our passing?

Seriously, I just light up a room don't I?

The other thing is just because we've named someone to take them now doesn't mean they'll be able or want to when the time comes. That's why we have several nominees: if one declines, they move on to the next name on the list.

We're fortunate to have a lot of very good friends who would be excellent guardians of our children. Many of them with bigger houses and pools. Now that I'm thinking about it, the kids may not think we're the only ones who've died and gone to heaven.

The other part of this document is the Power Of Attorney for major health related decisions. My wife and I both hold it for each other. Which means basically we have to stay on good behavior, or the other one can choose to pull the plug if given the option.

At least that's how it was explained to me.

Believing it's best to be straight with the kids, we've told them who they could wind up with and in what order we'd like it to happen. They're good with it. A little too good. In fact I've asked them if they could act just a little more broken up at the thought we might be gone.

They said they'd think about it.

So for now, we're all up to date with our final wishes. I even got the part about dressing me in a black tee shirt and jeans, and having an iPod playing Thunder Road to take me into eternity written into the document.

In the most literal sense, we're good to go.