Tuesday, December 5, 2017

No Time for Breakfast? Here Are Some Ideas.

The Favorite Son finishing homework before school. Sometimes, you have time to
make breakfast. Sometimes, you don't.
No doubt, you’ll have your hands full on many mornings, Dad. Even if you share custody of your children, some of the time you’ll be the project manager to get the kids out of bed, dressed, fed, lunches made, and on the bus. Of course, older children provide their own unique challenges and opportunities: small children, small problems; big children, big problems. Regardless, there will just be some days that you don’t even have the two minutes to prepare and eat a healthy smoothie. Don’t fret, but be prepared.

How pretentious is it to quote yourself?

Every couple of weeks, grab a dozen bagels. Rather than buying plain bagels, though, choose bagels that have a little substance. Blueberry, cheese, cinnamon-raisin, pumpernickel, and whole wheat, among others, often contain fewer calories, offer a variety of tastes, and provide nutritional benefits not found in the plain kind. Then, take five minutes to slice the bagels in half, place four to six of the sliced bagels in a large zipper-lock freezer bag, and they’re ready to toast on the morning after the power surge that reset your alarm clock or when you find indisputable evidence that your golden retriever wasn’t able to digest the chocolate bar your three-year-old son fed her the previous evening. Serve toasted bagels with almond butter, butter, cream cheese, hazelnut spread, or peanut butter, and garnish with two or three apple slices, banana slices, grapefruit chunks, grapes, orange wedges, or strawberries.

If you don’t even have time for that quick breakfast solution, there’s nothing wrong with sending your kids out the door with a granola bar and a piece of fruit in hand. Even when the pressure is on, you can feel good about the fact that you were able to begin your day—and theirs—with a healthy, filling breakfast.

Nice start, Dad.

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Apology to My Future Daughter-In-Law

The Favorite Son: a gentle, tender, caring burr under my saddle.
(Photo credit: Francesca Barclay)
When The Favorite Son (TFS) is much older and marries, I already feel sorry for his wife, but not for the reasons you may think. TFS is a funny and independent, confident and thoughtful, resilient and tender, sensitive and competitive young man. I think, one day, he’ll be a responsible adult, a great husband, an outstanding provider, and a wonderful father.

No, my sympathy for the future wife of TFS does not relate to the man she decides to marry. The woman who eventually marries TFS after he finishes his graduate degree, of course, will get a loyal, funny, playful, tender, loving man. Rather, I’ve already told TFS that I plan to move in with him when I’m older so I can act the same way in his house as he acts in my house.

Here is a partial list of my future behaviors when I live with my son and his family:

• Drop my dirty socks and underwear on the family room floor;
• If my son asks me to pick up my dirty socks and underwear, I will pick them up, but then I'll hide them under the sofa, coffee table, or end table;
• If the dishes in the dishwasher are clean, leave my dishes in the sink;
• Or, leave dishes on the table;
• Or, leave dishes in on the family room floor;
• In the unlikely event I do put dishes into the dishwasher, I'll leave the rinsed food pieces in the drain trap;
• My son will ask me to do something, I tell him that I’ll do it, then immediately not do it;
• Ask him to get me a glass of water in spite of the fact I’m standing right next to the water pitcher and cupboard where the cups are kept;
• Urinate in his master bathroom toilet, leave the lid up, and not flush;
• Spend all of my allowance, i.e., retirement savings, on candy and Dr. Pepper and ask my son for more money;
• Ask him to cook food for me;
• Eat candy on the sofa and place wrappers under the cushions;
• Leave important papers everywhere, then complain that those papers are lost, damaged, or used as drink coasters;
• Perpetually, lose my house key;
• Randomly, throw away my toothbrush when I know there aren't any other new toothbrushes in the house;
• Have a cat, occasionally feed and water said cat, but almost never change the cat litter;
• Only change scoop-able cat litter after the entire box of litter is spoiled, stinks, and can no longer be scooped;
• Complain that there isn’t any cat litter;
• In spite of a full refrigerator and cupboard, grumble that there is nothing to eat;
• If he makes or cooks something for me, I will critique his work like I’m Gordon-Effin’-Ramsay and give him pointers about how he could have made it better;
• If I make or cook something in the kitchen, I will leave evidence of my labor on the counter and floor including, but not limited to, containers, utensils, wrappers, puddles of liquid, crumbs, and measuring bowls;
• Ask repeatedly for him to take me to Burger King.




So, look, future daughter-in-law, you will have definitely married a great young man. He’ll take good care of you and your children. Please don’t think any less of me for my seemingly selfish and inconsiderate behavior. It’s a blood feud and the die has been cast.


Sunday, November 12, 2017

'Next Time, This Time' & The Soundtrack of My Life

For most of my first couple of years of high school, my dad drove me to school in his fire engine red, turbo-charged Buick Riviera. On that model, I’m pretty sure, the 8-track tape stereo was standard.
Dad's Riviera looked something like this, except it was red.

Every morning from our home in St. Charles, he’d get on I-70 at Zumbehl Road going east, cross the Missouri River into St. Louis County, take I-270 South, and then usually exit at Ladue Road to Lindbergh Boulevard and onto Chaminade Drive. Most days, with the sun-glare slowed traffic on the Blanchette Bridge, the trip would take about 40 minutes and we’d pass the time listening to my dad’s 8-tracks. At the time, Jim Croce’s Photographs & Memories: His Greatest Hits was always one of his favorites and I can probably still sing along, word for word, every song on that tape.

Jim Croce's Photographs & Memories: Soundtrack of My Life
Unfortunately, I know every word to every song on ABBA’s Gold: Greatest Hits for the same reason.

Anyway, I was recently sitting in a café doing a little bit of work. I think the place subscribes to Spotify and the barista must have chosen the Jim Croce station because, among some of his other great songs, Next Time, This Time played on the speaker just above the sofa where I sat.

That day, sitting in the café in 2017, I heard the song with different ears.


Jim Croce: Next Time, This Time

If there is a soundtrack to my life, I’d certain include this track on the 12-CD box set. Of course, now, I’m not sure whether I’d include the song with the other songs from the early 1980’s or whether it would be among those associated with the 50-year old version of me.

Saturday, November 4, 2017

Warwick Valley Black Dirt Biscuits & Gravy

Courtesy of Arundel Publishing
From The Single Father's Guide to Life,
Cooking, and Baseball
.
So, my former sister-in-law, the sister of my late wife (whatever that makes her to me), Kim, teased me after I complimented my brother-in-law (same relation) on his pancakes. “Wow," I said, "Those were great flapjacks.”

Kim commented with a mischievous smirk, “That’s high praise coming from you because, you know, pancakes!” 

The joke was that I have a LOT of pancake recipes in my book, The Single Father’s Guide to Life, Cooking, and Baseball, on this blog, and in my head. I took Kim's teasing with good humor. The truth is, in fact, I think breakfast is my favorite meal. So, wouldn’t it be somewhat natural that I’d create some really tasty recipes for my book(s) and blog?

Well, shah-yeah.

Anyway, I suppressed my urge to post a new pancake recipe, although I have a really good new one. Maybe, some other time. Rather, here is my newest and best-est recipe for some friggin’ awesome biscuits and gravy that have a, well, regional flavor. You may just die of hyper-sensory bliss when you eat this.


Warwick Valley Black Dirt Gravy ’n’ Biscuits

2 pounds ground breakfast sausage
1 sweet Black Dirt onion, diced
1 Honey Crisp or Jonagold Apple (from the Warwick Valley), diced
1 garlic clove, crushed, or ¼ teaspoon garlic powder
6 cups milk
2 heaping tablespoons whole wheat flour
1 clove garlic, crushed
½ teaspoon pepper
½ teaspoon cinnamon
1 pinch salt (optional)
8 biscuits (either packaged, from a can, or scratch)

In a large, high-sided frying pan, add diced sweet onion, diced apple, garlic, and ground breakfast sausage. Cook on medium heat until the mixture is thoroughly browned. Remove contents from pan and drain the grease. To the pan, add milk, ½ teaspoon pepper, and ½ teaspoon cinnamon. Warm on medium heat, and sift 2 tablespoons of whole wheat flour into the milk while stirring gently. Continue to stir for 3 to 5 minutes until thickened. Stir in browned sausage, onion, apple mixture. If you’re using brown-and-serve biscuits, follow the baking directions on the can, or toast 8 - 12  pieces of bread. Feeds a single dad and his three little Wildcats.

(Note, you can substitute chicken or turkey sausage for pork sausage; soy, almond, or rice milk for cow’s milk; and wheat toast for white toast). 


Although I'm partial to them, apples from Warwick Valley orchards, onions harvested in the nearby Black Dirt, and pork grown on nearby farms aren't absolutely necessary for the recipe. You can buy your apples, onions, and breakfast sausage at the grocery store. However, a local to the Warwick Valley or a visitor to AppleFest, a weekender from New York, Philadelphia, or Boston to one of the area’s charming bed 'n' breakfast accommodations, or just a day-tripper can find most of these ingredients at the Warwick Valley Farmers' Market every Sunday from 9 a.m. until 2 p.m., April through the weekend before Thanksgiving. Roaming Acres Farm and Kiernan Farms both carry a variety of breakfast sausage and other meats, while Pennings Farm Market, Rogowski Farm, and Soon’s Orchard among others sell a variety of seasonal apples and Black Dirt onions. If you want to add some farm fresh eggs to your Sunday morning breakfast/brunch, stop at Peg’s Eggs and get a dozen jumbos that Peg collects from her more than 800 layers.

Warwick Valley Farmers' Market
(Courtesy of The Warwick Valley Chamber of Commerce.)

If you survive the euphoria of my Warwick Valley Black Dirt Biscuits 'n' Gravy,  let me know how you enjoyed them. You can find me almost every Sunday walking through the Warwick Valley Farmer’s Market.


Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Straight-Talk for Fathers of Teenage Daughters

It's not funny.

If you’re a single father of daughters, more than once you’ve gotten the call or text, “Dad, will you pick up a box of tampons while you’re out?” It didn’t take me long before I stopped noticing sideways look from the pejorative counter clerk. If that condescending, millennial brat who wore a nose ring, a tattoo sleeve that probably cost more than a year’s wages, and a smirk while waving bar codes over a scanner had an infinitesimal inkling of the shit I’ve dealt with, well, ze Zir would probably would run, screaming hysterically, home to his room in his mother’s basement.

Anyway, buying feminine product for his daughter is perhaps among the least difficult of a father’s responsibilities when it comes to parenting in the time of menarche. I equate the experience to the girl depicted in The Exorcist. It was as if my daughter was possessed by a demon and, in many ways, didn’t even seem to be my daughter. Then, after about two years, it was suddenly as if the demon had been expelled. When my daughter had “returned,” almost literally, she said to me, “Oh. Hi, Dad. I didn’t see you there. How have you been?”

It's not funny.

Of course, as soon as the demon was exorcised from my first daughter, it possessed my second daughter. Two years later, my second daughter returned much in the same manner her sister did. For me, it was four years very long years of carefully planning what I said and did, not that it mattered much. So, listen, I relate these personal experiences for no other reason than to help you, my fellow single father brothers. Learn from me. If I knew then what I know now, this is what I’d tell myself about dealing with hormonal daughters:


Surrogate Adult Female Role-Model
Regular readers of The Single Father’s Guide Blog already know the term, “platonic female friend (PFF).” (See What is a Platonic Female Friend?) If you’re a father of children whose mother is not in the picture, there is no better time to enlist the help of a PFF. Like some men, I’m long on theory. Like all men, I’m short on practice. If your girls’ grandmother or aunts are in close proximity, then you’re ahead of the game. In the case there is no close female relative who can help, a trusted PFF can provide the specific information and instructions on, um, how to address the monthly visit from Aunt Flo.

Unreasonable Behavior (as Defined by Any Man)
You have no idea what you’re in for, Dads. You might be skipping merrily along some sunny Sunday morning and, “BLAM!” You get smacked in the face with a figurative 2 X 4 by a wrathful tween who knows exactly where her Daddy’s buttons are and how to push them. I can’t really tell you where these traps are laid or, really, how to avoid them. Rather, just be ready for them all the time and do your best not to let your daughter's behavior raise your ire. If your ire does get raised, try to remember the context and lower it . . . if you’re able.

Understanding, but Firm
While your lovely daughter is dealing with this new experience, she may also be in the process of forming her identity as a woman. A father’s presence and example is critical in helping little girls develop self-esteem. (See Dad, You're a Role Model, So Date With Care.) Menarche and establishing a sense of self aren’t always mutually exclusive on the timeline of life. In fact, I think it rarely is. So, remember that your little girl may becoming a woman physically as well as emotionally. Your daughter would be jousting with you in any case. Do your best to be understanding while making sound parenting decisions.

Remember, Your Daughter Loves You
Whether you’re divorced, a widower, or some other permutation of single father, your daughter has also had to endure some difficult times in the context of her mother and father not being together. So, between the new hormones, normal process of identity development, and potential feelings of grief and resentment, your little girl may find you the most convenient person to blame for, well, anything or everything whether you're at fault or not. She’s the hardest on you because she loves you and she feels the safest with you. It may be years, literally, before she sees the world clearly enough to understand all the ways you have had her back all along.

Avoid the Call; Buy Online
To avoid those emergency calls while your out to "pick up some (feminine product)," go online and add some to your monthly grocery store or Amazon.com shopping cart. That way, you'll never run out. Hopefully.


As a widower single father, one of my biggest laments has been that my daughters’ mother was not here to support them, well, just about the whole damned time, but especially during their early teen years. Frankly, that lament is about as selfish as it can be. In my experience, you see, it’s the mother with whom a little girl spars to establish her identity. Parenting is supposed to be a team sport. While Mommy jousts, Daddy is supposed to ride in on a white horse and save the day. Yet, it’s happened more than once that I’ve been reduced to a blithering emotional shell on the precipice of breakdown as a result of parenting without a partner.

It's not funny.

So, I won’t apologize for this bit of misogyny, especially in this context. Here it is. As difficult as it gets as a single father, consider the plight of one of my oldest and best friends. He is married and has a really terrific tween daughter whose menarche recently started. He’s also married to a wonderful woman, but his wife is little or no help. She’s in the throes of menopause.



Oh, and to that smirking, condescending, millennial brat who wears a nose ring, a tattoo sleeve that probably cost more than a year’s wages, and a smirk as he/she waves the tampon box’s bar code over a scanner, “Fuck you.” You have no idea.

Tuesday, October 17, 2017

The Lucy Cliché, Hornswoggling, Assholes, and Good Men

I hate being a cliché, but I remembered one that had something to do with some decent, cow-eyed guy getting hornswaggled by a sexy, manipulative, gold-digging divorcee. The whole thing reminded me of this great song by Eric Clapton, Watch Out for Lucy.

"Excuse me, Lucy. Darlin', don't you use me.
I don't want to end up in jail."
- Watch Out For Lucy by Eric Clapton

Yes, I’ve dated a few divorced ladies. No, I don’t think I’ve been hornswoggled by any of them. Still, I wondered whether I was the mark for one of these “Lucy’s” and a cliché to boot.

The story that is widely circulated is that the phrase was first spoken by the English
 evangelical preacher and martyr, John Bradford (circa 1510–1555). He is said to
have uttered the variant of the expression - "There but for the grace of God,
goes John Bradford", when seeing criminals being led to the scaffold.
(Google Search: There but for the grace of God. 10/10/17)
So, I decided to do a little research and Googled, “nice guy falling for divorcee cliché.” I didn’t find much about the “Lucy Cliché,” I was surprised see the search results. Almost exclusively, the results included information and advice for women seeking advice about how to date good men. Women wanted to learn how to date a nice guy because, you know, they didn’t know how to behave with a nice guy.

So, I was off the whole Lucy Cliché and delved into this new vein of information.

Apparently, some gals have to learn how to treat a guy who doesn't treat them like garbage. Lauren Evans asks, “How does one treat the nice guy? The nice guy that texts you the morning after the first date? The nice guy that stays round to make out til 3 in the morning?[i]” In The Good Men Project’s 5 Things I Had to Learn In Order to Love My Nice Guy, Joanna Schroeder offers women who are dating a good man advice “You need to stop being a jerk, even when you’re in a bad mood.[ii]” Schroeder continues, “If you’ve lived in chaos most of your life, or if you’ve had abuse or a lot of drama in past relationships, you’re probably going to be really uncomfortable with the sense of ease that comes from being in a healthy relationship with a nice guy.[iii]” 


Nice guys may finish last only
because they put their women first.


So, look. As a younger man, I was quite a bit more reckless than I am now. Sure, there have probably been a few activities listed in the penal code, I’m sure, which, had I been at the wrong place at the wrong time, well, “There, but by the grace of God, go I.” I'm no angel, but was I a "bad boy?" I don't know. Never have I maliciously or purposely injured anyone except in the cases when I had to defend myself, my family, or someone who wasn’t able to defend himself or herself. However, if the definition of a good man today world is a man who has worked diligently for his family, respects others, and takes responsibility for his actions, well, of that I am and many of my single father readers are guilty. I’ve never believed a guy has to be an asshole to be an alpha male.

Schroeder observes her audience, women who date nice guys, needs the advice to refrain from “being a jerk” and may “be really uncomfortable with a sense the sense of ease” that results from dating a good man. That’s mind-boggling to me.

How have so many women become so bitterly jaded that they need to be told to be a decent human being? Well, yes, some have and, yes, some men are assholes.

I think woman who is attracted to a “bad boy” mistakenly sees him as an alpha male when, in fact, he’s just an asshole. She may eventually realize he is an asshole, but believes she can change him. Of course, she can’t. She marries him and, then, is mystified when he doesn’t mature, treats her badly or, perhaps, even physically or psychologically abuses her. A decade or two later, the woman has a bunch of little asshole kids who sustain the cycle of asshole men and wonders, “Why all men are assholes?”

Is having married or having a relationship with an asshole justification for treating a good man, a nice guy, like garbage? Um, no. As Joanna Schroeder advises, “Because you’re an adult now, and you have control over your choices.[iv]

Here, my dear lady readers who don't know how to treat decent people decently, is a little advice from me. If you find a man who is straight-up crazy about you, who lets you know that you’re the first person he thinks of in the morning and the last person he thinks of before he goes to bed, who respects you, loves you for your quirks and not in spite of them, who makes you squirm with excitement when you’re with him, who invests his time in you, who wants time from you, who listens to you and talks with you, and who’d not only bury the body, but also give you an alibi for the crime, leave him alone. If you don’t know how to love, respect, and honor the good man he is, regardless of the reason, just leave him alone.

For the good men out there, don't be hornswoggled. Accept nothing less.



[i] “This Is What Happens When You Accept Love From A Nice Guy. Catalog. Lauren Evans. March 5, 2016.
[ii] “5 Things I Had to Learn In Order to Love My Nice Guy.” Joanna Schroeder. The Good Men Project. November 30, 2014.
[iv] “5 Things I Had to Learn In Order to Love My Nice Guy.” Joanna Schroeder. The Good Men Project. November 30, 2014.

Monday, October 9, 2017

Calling-Out Bad Single Father Behavior (LANGUAGE WARNING)

Single fathers, I’ve got you’re back. I really do. When I see or hear about an ex-wife who is preventing you from seeing your children, I support you any way I can. If you have questions about “getting back out there” to start dating again after a tumultuous divorce, brother, I’m your wingman. Need suggestions for a healthy meal or someone to listen to a parenting issue, I'm with you.

It's okay to seek happiness, single dads,
but not at the expense of your kids.
However, when one of you dumb sons-of-bitches does something so fucking stupid that it damages one of your children and makes the rest of us responsible single fathers look bad, well, you can bet your ass I’m going to call you on it.

So, I know a single father who, well, contributed significantly to the end of his marriage. While his now ex-wife was pregnant with the couple’s second child, she was involved in a life-threatening accident. What was this guy doing when she had the accident and when she was in the hospital? Well, he was fucking some other woman. Class act, huh?

The things that happen between a man and a woman prior to the infidelity are the business of that man and woman and not mine. Maybe, the guy’s wife was a horrible person. Maybe, she was a manipulative, narcissistic, unsupportive, psychopathic witch of a partner. Not my business. However, “banging the babysitter” is not the way a gentleman handles ending a relationship with the pregnant mother of his children while she lay in a hospital bed.

Recently, he bought a house where his two children, now teenagers, would stay during the times the shared custody agreement provided for it. His son was so excited about his new room that he picked a paint color and rolled the paint on the walls himself.

Subsequently, during the last few months, in fact, our single father brother began a relationship with a woman who was very freshly separated and who also has two children. Foolishly, in my humble opinion, our subject asked his new girlfriend to move in to his house. Due to limited space and to accommodate his new girlfriend and her children, he gave one of her children his own son’s room. Now, when he has visitation with his children, our boy's children sleep on the sofa while his girlfriend’s children sleep in the bedrooms.

Dude. What? The. Fuck.

Your behavior, single dad, has a direct impact on your child's behavior.
Not surprisingly, our single father brother’s children are angry at him for giving their rooms to his girlfriend's kids. His daughter will no longer talk to him. The other child still wants to have a relationship with his father, but has begun act out in a number of unproductive and potentially dangerous ways including drug use and behavioral issues at school. Is the drug use and behavior at school directly related to his dad's girlfriend's family moving in to his dad's house? Who the hell knows? I'd bet good money, though, it's related.

Considering there are more than two million single fathers and the number of page views of the blog is only a few thousand each month, it’s unlikely that this guy will ever see this post. However, for those who are readers, put your kids first. It’s fine if you want to spend time with your buddies. It’s okay of you want to enjoy the company of a lovely lady. For most of us, we have to work for the money we need to pay the bills. Heck, you may even want to remarry and your partner may have children. (I almost did.)

Your children may not always understand the reasons you do the things you do to be the best parent you can be. Sometimes, you will make a mistake. That's all right. Make time for your kids and let them know by your actions and words that your children are the reason you make the decisions you make. However, don't be a douche-hole. Regardless of what you do to keep yourself physically and emotionally healthy, do those things while keeping your children the priority. Literally.

Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Want a Healthier Life? Turn OFF Television

Strong association: food and television.
Interesting observation I’ve recently made after the start of the kids' new school year.


I have made a point not to have the television on during the week, even after The Favorite Son (TFS) has gone to bed. (To be honest, there are a few exceptions like October baseball.) For my part, I’ve noticed that three things have happened. First, I go to sleep earlier, wake up earlier, and am better rested. Second, I’m not hungry later after dinner, so I don’t eat. Finally, I’d often have an adult beverage while noshing and watching game or a show.


Screen time, whether phone, computer, other handheld device, gaming system, or television, has always been an item of contention for me with TFS. While I have occasionally tested permitting TFS some screen time in the past, I’ve come to the conclusion screen time and homework, home responsibilities, and participation in family activities are almost completely mutually exclusive.


TFS has not only been more focused on completing his homework, but he is also finding other activities to occupy his time. He’s also getting more sleep, which makes both his life and my life easier.


Maybe it’s been the repetitive advertising dating back more than five decades of young, healthy, bright-eyed actors at the drive-in eating popcorn and drinking Coca-Cola or families parked in front of the television sitting behind TV trays and TV dinners, but screen time is very much associated with eating. Pavlov’s dog speaking, take away the association and the undesirable behavior is no longer top-of-mind.

Eating and watching is sooooooo much fun.

For me, not watching television on weekdays has begun to show some tangible benefits. In addition to getting better rest, I take in fewer (empty) calories and, often, find activities that burn a few. Recently, I undertook a somewhat involved and physically demanding repair project at my house when I would have otherwise eating tortilla chips and salsa and sipping a Glenlivet on the rocks.


Yeah, chips, salsa, and single malt scotch is how I roll, although not quite as often now.


Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had some push-back from TFS. He wants to watch television or have other screen time. Still, the resistance from TFS hasn’t been too bad. Yes, he asks. I just suggest other activities. Then, TFS often goes outside to shoot hoops, into the back yard and throws a baseball at the rebound net and shags the ground balls, or to his room to sort his sports cards.

TFS: dated, but relevant.

There’s always the weekend when TFS and I can watch the shows he’s recorded like The Walking Dead. Of course, considering the state of University of Missouri football, it isn't easy to get too excited about Tigers' kick-off on Saturday afternoon. We're not fair-weather fans, though. We still watch.

Monday, September 25, 2017

Disrespect? Win the Battle, Lose the War

Okay. My tongue is bleeding because I’ve been biting so hard.

I don’t know Donald Trump. I can’t tell you how he thinks. More often t than not, though, I understand the what the result of his actions might be.

Buffalo Bills players protesting the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner.
As Trump continues to speak directly with his constituency through social media, his supporters get an unfiltered message. Clearly, the President doesn't care for the media filter to deliver his position. When he speaks directly to voters who turn out to hear his speeches, he knows exactly the response they hope to achieve. So, when President Trump referred to NFL athletes who kneel during the National Anthem as “sons of bitches,” there's little doubt that he understood the reaction he'd affect. For folks who aren’t familiar with American history, that’s powerful imagery for some players.

I suspect that President Trump isn’t terribly fond of some NFL owners.

A recent Experian Simmons study shows that this is true demographically. Of people who identified themselves as part of the NFL fan base 83 percent were white, 64 percent were male, 51 percent were 45 years or older, only 32 percent made less than $60,000 a year, and, to finish the point, registered Republicans were 21 percent more likely to be NFL fans than registered Democrats. Another factoid: NFL fans were 59 percent more likely than the average American to have played golf in the last year.[i]

By making this and other statements relating to the behavior of some players, Mr. Trump is effectively galvanizing those players’ solidarity. It’s more than a little bit likely that Team Trump understood how his comments would be taken. More players would kneel during the National Anthem and rhetoric would compound. Likely, some of the more, well, inexperienced players would likely make an outrageous or unreasonable statement, which would, in turn, dampen the ardor of the largest among NFL demographics. A less enthusiastic fan base spends less money on tickets, broadcast products, and gear. Considering the NFL’s total annual revenue is $13.3 billion,[ii] a decrease in NFL product sales to the largest market, well, puts a big dent in owners’ asset values.

Rams and 49ers kick-off to an empty stadium.

Players who take the hook are not only caught, but they are also biting on what is so obviously isn’t even live bait.

Saints fans burn gear after players' protest.
Like I’ve already mentioned, I don’t know how Mr. Trump thinks or the nature of his end game. Is it actually something as simple as evening the score with one or more NFL owners who Mr. Trump doesn’t care for, or is the President of the United States looking downfield for more? Does he want to use his influence to force support from NFL team owners to his own ends through unprecedented political hard ball. Is Trump fan the flame of an already burning issue to rally his base for the 2020 campaign? Is it something else entirely?

One thing is certain; many of the NLF players are, well, playing into the President’s hand. Frankly, it's not a matter of whether they can. It's a matter of whether they should. Personally, I think every NFL player should stand for the two and a half minutes while a bright-eyed young American sings the Star-Spangled Banner. For those who continue to show what a majority of Americans believe is disrespect for our country and for the women and men who have died to defend it, protesters may win a battle, but lose the war.

As football players, they should readily comprehend that.





[i] “NFL: Last sports bastion of white, male conservatives.” The Great Debate. www.blogs.reuters.com. Neil Gabler. March 24, 2014.

[ii] “Thanks To Roger Goodell, NFL Revenues Projected To Surpass $13 Billion In 2016.” Forbes Magazine. www.forbes.com. Jason Belzer. February 29, 2016.

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

A Widower Father's Lament

Some of "my people" Including The Favorite Son, me,
"Louis," Rob Rooney, and Rob's Dad
If you’re even a casual reader of The Single Father’s Guide Blog, the next thing I'm about to write will be redundant. For some reason, though, I feel obligated to include it.

And, here it is. Slightly more than one in 20 single fathers is a widower. The number is actually just about 6%. This is the subgroup of single dads to which I belong.

My late wife, Lori, was diagnosed in 2003 with occult metastatic breast cancer when she was six months pregnant with The Favorite Son (TFS). That mother-fucker (the cancer, not TFS) took Lori ten months later, leaving her two Beautiful Daughters, seven and four years old, respectively, and seven-month old TFS without a mother and Yours Truly.

So, I don’t think I wear my emotions on my sleeve or allow one, albeit significant event in the past, define me. I don’t think I write disproportionately to widower single fathers, but I do, admittedly include a post written directly to or about widower single dads.

That said, TFS and I spent a little bit of time in Missouri “with my people,” which is the way a former neighbor, Phyllis Kaminsky, used to refer to them. The trip included a stop at Three River Stadium in Pittsburgh to watch the Cardinals and another stop in Indianapolis at the Kurt Vonnegut Museum. While TFS enjoyed some quality time with his grandparents, I met the Second Beautiful Daughter (SBD) in New Orleans and helped her move into her dorm. Prior to returning to New York, TFS and I made the trip to Columbia, Missouri and had dinner and shopped with the First Beautiful Daughter (FBD), who is a junior at the University of Missouri.
First Beautiful Daughter: KD, now RA.

As I unloaded the contents of my car on Broadway Street in New Orleans, picked up the boxes we’d shipped from the FedEx trailer, and unpacked clothes, supplies, sundries, pictures, mattress pad, sheets, pillow cases, and comforter, I was overwhelmed with the same emotion I felt when I visited her sister a few days later at MIZZOU.

After two years as a Kappa Delta and living in the sorority house during her sophomore year, FBD took a position as a resident assistant (RA). Consistent with her independent and confident personality, FBD has taken responsibility for herself and her success by taking a job that would pay room/board expenses while she finishes her undergraduate degree.

TFS started at a new school. Understandably, TFS was nervous on his first day, but maintained a stiff upper lip. He even giggled about the school uniform; an enthusiastic supporter of the Commander in Chief, TFS joked before he left for school, “I feel like Donald Trump.”

Shh. I'm Batman, but it is The Second Beautiful
Daughter who is Incredi-Girl.
What I felt on those three days with each my incredible, unique, independent young adults can be clustered into two emotions. First, I am incredibly proud of the way each of my three children have become such wonderful people. My first daughter has made a point of establishing her independence and, with Missouri Heritage Scholarship, her RA job, and a work/study job, is doing just that while maintaining a grade point average north of 3.5. The SBD set her sights on her goal of attending Tulane University and she studied, worked with a tutor, and earned nearly a 90% scholarship. My son has always had something to which a lot of people call “intangibles.” Sharp-witted and funny, he’s been a likable leader among his peers. Both figuratively and literally, TFS has always been fearless and “played bigger” than he is.

The Favorite Son: Future Politician?

For all of these reasons and more, I was something more than gratified by the way my children have grown up so far. But, there was something else I felt, as well. Frankly, I was angry and resentful that they couldn’t have also shared these moments with their mother. It just wasn’t (and isn’t) fair to them that when one would look over to the sideline during a game, out into the audience at a school play or an award ceremony, or after school to share a good grade on a quiz or test, that Lori wasn’t there to share it.

No, I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason. What possible reason could there be for two little girls, seven and four years old, and a baby boy to have to grow up without a mother’s love? Yeah, I know it isn’t rational to have resentment or anger for something that happened so far out of my control. It’s like resenting the weather. (Ironically, Hurricane Irma and the ocean storm surge is pounding Florida as I write. Maybe, I can blame global warming, too.) Feelings of anger and resentment are a natural process that is clearly out of anyone’s control are irrational, but who ever said emotions have to be rational?


Well, that’s my story. That’s a widower’s lament for his children. There’s no punchline. Maybe, there isn’t even a moral other than, perhaps, life goes on until it doesn’t. Even then, life still goes on and we have to do the best with what we’ve got. With any luck, we do.