Please Daddy

Today is my oldest daughter's birthday. She turns twelve. In the photo at right, she is about 12 minutes old. My first look at her.

As with most parents I've heard talking about their children's growth, I can't believe it. It was such a short time ago that she wasn't in my life...or so it seems. And now, I can't imagine her not being in my life. I was meant to have her there, and she was meant to have me and her mother as her parents. It's pretty awesome. It's definitely bigger than I.

She's no longer my "little" girl...and yet she is. She wants to be grown up, but there is a side to her that still bats her eyes, and says, "please, daddy." I am sure it won't be that long before the eye batting thing goes away and becomes eye rolling. But, that's ok, it's the natural evolution of things.

I'm not quite sure why, but as I write this, there's a sadness to it...in my heart, I mean. She was so tiny, and so vulnerable, and for all these years, I've tried to protect her. But, that's can't forever be so. She has to strike out on her own and I know that...intellectually. But I will always miss my little girl...who will be, before I want her to, a young woman.

Don't feel sorry for me though, I am blessed, even though I am not a religious man. Because I also have a five year old daughter, and I get to protect and remain a please daddy for a few more years. Thank you, whomever is responsible. I am a very fortunate man.

Happy birthday Hannah. I love you.

Curious

It occurs to me that I talk with...converse is maybe a better word...with lots of people here on Blogger on a regular basis, and I don't know what they look like. Well, some have pictures of themselves here, but for the most part, they have symbols. And, of course, nor do I---no, I am not really a roach...physically, that is. Way back on Journal Space, I had my photo posted for a while, and then decided it was just too...something...id(me)(ish)? But, I've decided to share an image of me, once again. Don't feel that you need to reciprocate, unless you are female, and the photo is dans le nu (butt naked).

Anyway here I am:



Oops, no that's the "Beav" me, at eight. Cute little devil, wasn't I? WASN'T I??

I know, what you want is the manly, manly me of today. But I refuse to take off my clothes, so we'll have to compromise with a bust shot---don't go there, Punch. What that means to you non-artsy media types is, a head shot---AND, definitely don't go THERE, ANYBODY.

Here I am, all grown up and in my Sunday stay-home-from-church outfit. It was given to me by my mother-in-law, and maybe now you can understand why I have a contract out on her. Nevertheless, the clothes do not make the man. And I think you can see why my wife does not want me to go to church with her.



You'll have to agree that I've aged well.

Cute big devil, aren't I.

Yak, yak, yak

So there was this little competition, in which I participated, over at That Blue Yak, which is owned by the infamous Dr Zibbs. The deal was to design a proper header for the blog. I can't show you what the old one looked like, because it is gone...replaced by THE new one. That would be the new one THAT IS NOT THE ONE I DESIGNED.

Before someone yells, SOUR GRAPES, SOUR GRAPES, NA-NA-NA-NA, let me clear this up. I accepted the call to help out a fellow blogger who apparently is designedly challenged...if not, er, crazy in the head---don't believe it, go read his blog. I submitted a design because I knew he had only to read my profile to find out that I am a graphic designer...and I was in fear of my life from this crazy person. Oh, you say, he must not be too loony in the cabeza...look at the 240,000,000,000,000,000,000,000, followers---that's 240 Sextillion---which in and of itself should tell you something. Soooooo, given that, how come he didn't have 240 Sextillion baited-breath header design aspirants...huh, huh, huh? Five is the number...five were submitted by four little people and a, gulp, winner. The prize? The honor of having one's design on a Superblog. Whaaaat is that? No palm grease, no nothing except...aggrandizement of Zibbs. Once again, Big Blog brings down the little people...a never ending story.

Now to the exciting part. I present here to you, my 21 zeros shy of a Sextillion followers, the header...THE header...which was shunned, and spat upon---OK, not spat...shat? This is the first time I've ever used that word...shat...SHAT, SHAT, SHAT...there.



My premise for my yakness header design:
There is not one shred of evidence that there is anywhere on the planet---this planet...not, Mongo, of a blue yak.


And especially that blue yak. Therefore, I threw out the idea of depicting a yak of any sort, particularly one tinted in Photoshop. I will not perpetrate this yak lie on the blog reading public...no matter how much money he DIDN'T offer. Did I mention, I undertook this for free?

It was at that moment of decision that I ran into a neatsy petesy lion in my animal files. It looked hungry. What better morsel than a yak? But, my dilemma was, I could not in good conscience put a yak in there...especially a BLUE one. So I substituted the "word" yak, and placed it in the lion's mouth. How apropos...there is no blue yak...it has been eaten...well almost.

I also felt it was time the blog reading public knew the truth...about the yak...the "blue" yak...and by extension, Dr Zibbs. The truth is the yak is...poky dotted. As is Zibbs, I suspect. No one has EVER actually seen a photo of him...including I believe, his wife. I do know this, he is not a blue yak...there aren't any.

Finally, I do hope everyone realizes that I farcical here, and that I have a great deal of admiration for Dr Whatshis. My hats are off to him for maintaining what must be a mind-bloggling, time consuming effort. I know I couldn't keep up with it...because I love my family...and they would kick me out if I spent as much time as he must on his blog. We make our choices friends...and in the end I know I will not be on my death bed muttering, "damn, I wish I had spent more time on my blog...and named it, That Poky Dotted Yak"

Just kidding Zibbs. Har, har. Really. No shit. Really. I mean it.

Anyone who would like to use this header---the REJECTED one---altered to fit your blog, with the animal or device of your choice...excepting vibrating thingamajigs and men's nipples...email me at:
thejadedj@yahoo.com

Seriously, my congrats to Mr. Condescending of somanylosers,the header designer choice of yaks everywhere . It is an awesome header...as is the one on his blog. And, as is his blog. Check it out.

What if...

...no one else had shown up?

A Dentist's Friend

As you wander through life friend,
Whatever be your goal,
Keep your eye upon the donut,
and not upon the hole.

A sign in a donut shop my grandfather used to take me to. The sign is embedded in my brain and every time I see a contemporary so-called donut, I think of it, and my grandfather.

One not only got to eat massive amounts of sugar, but one could also watch them dip the donut batter into the deep fry fat to make the donuts. Couldn't have been better to a kid than if they had served chocolate, sugar drenched, pig fat. Somewhat the same thing upon reflection.

Ah, those were the days.