David Vienna's Blog, page 163
November 8, 2016
How does your kids feel about this, the election ?
They know it’s important and historic.
I also think, if allowed to vote, they’d write in Iron Man.
I’m a little fidgety today for obvious reasons… I mean...
I’m a little fidgety today for obvious reasons… I mean the world could fucking end tonight.
I’ve got a ton to do, but I don’t want any downtime. Gotta stay busy.
So send me asks or whatever. Anything. Please. For the love of God.
I know a lot of people say they feel like their vote doesn’t...
I know a lot of people say they feel like their vote doesn’t matter.
But it does. And in this election it matters more than ever.
Don’t be a fuckhead. Vote.
November 7, 2016
November 6, 2016
After bringing stuff to our new place, we came outside to find...
After bringing stuff to our new place, we came outside to find the boys just chillin’ in the driveway having a conversation.
November 4, 2016
November 3, 2016
This Father Is Opting Into the Midlife CrisisMy friend Whit...
This Father Is Opting Into the Midlife Crisis
My friend Whit recently penned a thoughtful post on why he’s choosing to opt out of the midlife crisis. Whit’s a good man. He’s also taller than me and, unlike my kids, I’m reasonably certain his boys don’t try to ride the coffee table down the stairs. I applaud you, Whit. You do you.
Me? I’m going to hit my midlife crisis motherfucking head-on without a helmet. I’m going to speed into it like an old man with failing vision careening his Porsche Cayman convertible into a busload of naughty secretaries.
I appreciate Whit’s perspective. He wrote that there are bigger problems in the world than those of a middle-aged, middle class, white guy. And he’s right. There are starving people, oppressed people—there’s pretty much a whole planet full of people who have it harder than us.
But we’re not talking about them right now. We’re talking about me.
I’ve been eying motorcycles for about two years now. I’m not looking to buy, but only because we don’t have the discretionary income to do so. Plus, I’ve only ridden once in my life and I was young enough then to bounce the bike off a parked car and walk away with only a minor limp. Accidents like that at my current age usually end with hip replacement.
I know this is part of my approaching midlife crisis. And if my midlife crisis arrives on a 1967 Triumph Bonneville T120 I say bring it the fuck on, Evel Knievel. And I want to make it perfectly fucking clear that I know so little about motorcycles I had to Google “types of motorcycles” before writing that last sentence. It’s possible that bike is entirely made up. I wouldn’t know nor do I care!
You know what else people do in their midlife crisis? They compensate for their fear of the endless march toward death with erratic behavior and, every now and then, a mad grasp at the life they had in their youth. I checked that box when I voluntarily shaved my hair into a mohawk a few years ago. And I was only in my late-30s then. And I looked like a late-30s, graying father of two with a mohawk or, more simply, a goddamn idiot.
See? You see how rapidly and eagerly I’m racing toward this midlife crisis? You coughing, Whit? That’s because I’ve left you in the motherfucking dust! (Or it could be a respiratory issue. You should check with your doctor. We’re not spring chickens anymore.)
When you think about it midlife isn’t that bad. You get to fart in public because you can no longer control your sphincter; you get to take all the drugs you want, though most of them are for your cholesterol; and you get to be totally rude and offensive under the guise of “age and wisdom,” like how I tell my kids Pokémon XY has almost no narrative arc and used toilet paper has more character development. It’s also fun to play the experienced cultural observer like when I tell my younger coworkers about a great movie that came out way back in 1994. Yes, in a totally different century!… Yes, we had movies back then, you little shit.
Look, I’ve got 99 problems and a mortgage is one. So, are my kids practice schedules, bills, my health, 2nd grade homework, fielding freelance jobs, what to do during upcoming holidays, whether or not both of my kids need a goddamn Pikachu toy, taking the car in for repairs, the last Indiana Jones movie, the strange stomach pain I get randomly… What I’m saying is I’ve earned my fucking midlife crisis.
So the motorcycle will probably never happen, but it ain’t for lack of desire. In reality, my midlife crisis will most likely manifest as a new tattoo or, perhaps, a return to the guitar to once again play very, very shitty music while I consider that I could have been the next Michael Stipe.
I did recently purchase a skateboard so I could keep up with my kids. I’ve already wrecked on it once and, as I flew through the air, my mind repeated only one thing: “You’re going to break something. You’re going to break something.”
But I tucked, rolled, and sprang back up. Boom! Take that, midlife. Looks like the only thing I broke was the motherfucking awesomeness meter, jerk face, and possibly a tendon in my thigh.
Photo by Walter Schärer (CC)
November 2, 2016
Little Ozzy & Geezer
Rather than working on the piano pieces for their upcoming winter recital, both of my boys spent their practice time tonight trying to figure out how to play Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man.”
October 31, 2016
Don’t panic. #halloween
Don’t panic. #halloween
