Not an Expert, Just a Dad ... in This Crazy Game Called Life

When you sit back and think about it, life really is just like a game. From the moment we enter this world we are coached by our parents, and then like any good coach does, we are left alone to make the on-field decisions for ourselves once we reach adulthood. More often than not, in life we are like players on a team. Sometimes we have to play offense, like when we feel our child or spouse is wronged. Other times we are forced to defend, like when we screw up at work and try to talk our way out of it. We also spend a good part of our life in the bleachers, just sitting back and watching time go by. It might be watching our children in the school play, attending a friend's wedding, or just sitting in a lawn chair at the family reunion - concession stand beer in hand - wondering where the time went. A ballgame analogy can also be used when discussing the three basic needs in life: concession stands (food), stadiums (shelter) and uniforms (clothing). I'll start with the first. I'm married to the most fabulous cook in the world. The only things different between Rachael Ray and my wife are a magazine cover, a syndicated television show and millions of dollars. My wife is even better looking (I think). And yet, every night as I delve into another homemade dessert following a well-balanced, nutritious meal, I wonder if I could live a healthy life on three brownie sundaes a day. I'd consume less calories and fat than the so-called daily allowances, and would certainly make my wife's decision on what to cook for dinner easier. The only drawback I see is that I'd have to avoid seconds. Well, maybe just thirds. But seriously, the horse-sized daily vitamins I take supposedly have more essential nutrients in them than I need for a week, so why wouldn't it work. I know, what about protein? Fortunately, I love melted peanut butter on my brownie sundaes. And then there is shelter. We all supposedly want that white-picket fence wrapped around our homes like on "Leave it to Beaver." But when you think about it, what purpose does it really serve? Small dogs can crawl between the posts or under the rails, large dogs will jump over it, and it doesn't keep any rodents out. The pointed tops have to be sanded and painted annually and if I were to jump over it and come up short ... well, you get the picture. Or, if you are a man, admit it, you just winced and can feel my pain. And finally ... clothing. Is there anything more different from generation to generation than fashion? About the only clothing style that hasn't changed since I got out of the cloth ones in the late 1960s, is disposable diapers. Like long hair or mullets on boys, baggy pants were in, then out, and now back in style again. Just with a lot more underwear showing. Clogs are back. Fortunately, Swatches have stayed out. And what's up with the furry snow boots on a sunny warm day? Lastly, does anyone - other than my wife - really care whether my clothes match when I arrive at work as long as I do my job? The following chapters are a collection of fifty columns relating to parenting and living life with my three sons, who have a span of seventeen years between the first and the third. Some of what you'll read offer opinions, others advice. And in some instances you might not get anything out of reading them than a chuckle or two. It's a hodgepodge of topics in no particular order so you can pick the book up and put it down without losing your spot. It's about life's ups and downs, and win or lose, the lessons learned along the way.