Archive for July, 2013


A Brief Intermission While I Freak Out

So normally Wednesday is one of the days I power out multiple posts for this here fine blog which you are reading.

Thanks for doing so, by the way.

Ahywho, today is NOT a Wednesday like that.

No today is a “I am totally freaking out because I have too much work to do and football practice and gymnastics and dog walking and and and and and EARTH SHATTERING KABOOM.”

I’m trying to avoid the Earth Shattering Kaboom part.

So anyway, I will not be posting much here today, though I hope to catch up tomorrow and Friday.

I’m just swamped with paid work (which is a good thing) and one more thing might actually snap what little hold on reality I have.

I’ll be back tomorrow(ish).

Thanks for bearing with me.

This freakout has been sponsored by Not Having a TARDIS or Enough Beer and Meds.



The Professor Feels a Baby Kick!

So we went to Philadelphia this weekend to visit family and see the super-awesome Ben Franklin Institute which is, I learned not someplace they clone Ben Franklins to replace our often-not-awesome public officials, but is a place where there are tons of kid-friendly, hands on science stuff.

I plan on writing a review later but spoiler alert it was awesome.

Anyway, we visited a cousin of my wife’s and her family—currently a family of three, but in just a few months becoming four.

While we sat there in the living room, the second-wave-mom-to-be’s little one started to kick. If you’ve never seen a baby kick, it’s really trippy, but also pretty incredible.

The Professor is a younger brother, which means he hasn’t had all those fun older sibling pregnancy moments like talking to the baby in mama’s stomach and feeling it move and so on.

So we could see the baby move and the Professor was absolutely astonished. He just thought it was the coolest thing.

You could tell he really wanted to touch her stomach but—and adults could learn from this—instinctively knew you don’t just randomly do that, even to family.

Luckily, this was sensed by mom-to-be and she asked the Professor if he’d like to feel her belly.

He put his hand down and after a second or two where he didn’t seem sure what he was waiting for, the baby kicked (or punched—you can never tell) and the Professor’s eyes went wide. He laughed and waited until the baby moved again and just seemed totally floored by this.

I know the feeling, having gone through it twice.

In fact it brought to The Wife’s mind how Alpha Tween reacted to it when the Professor was still earning his degree at Womb U.

Alpha Tween (then toddler) had leaned down and rested his head on his mama’s belly when the baby kicked him right in the head.

Now, it wasn’t all that hard or visible but he felt it and it sure seemed unexpected. His eyes flew open and his mouth formed an “oh” of surprise.

It’s one of those moments where, though he won’t remember it really, the whole concept of a sibling in his mother’s body became very real.

It was exciting to watch the Professor get to experience that, though it isn’t his brother or sister in there.

There was a lot to like in Philly, but that might have been the coolest thing I saw.

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Everything I Ever Hated About Driving in NYC, Encapsulated by a Single Jackass

So I had to go fetch the kidlets from my parent’s house on Long Island (also accepted: Strong Island or Lawng Islawnd) and ended up, as I almost always do, rolling back to New Jersey during commuter time.

Two of my normal “avoid Manhattan at all costs” routes were solid red on the Google Map app, so I chose to follow its instructions into the city.

You can pick my car out by the smoke coming out of my ears and the windows – image via

When we lived in Queens, I hated driving. I mean, loathed it on a level I can’t really express. “Hated with the white hot fire of a billion supernovas” doesn’t quite touch it.

There’s a lot I loved about living there. The trains, the array of food and cultures. But aside from concerns about public schools, driving is by far the thing I miss least about the place.

I could describe all the things I hate about traversing NYC in a motorized vehicle, but instead I will tell you this story. You pick out what parts annoy me the most if you can.

Traffic was awful. Worse, Google Maps took me a way I never go and it never suggests. I should have known this would end badly and just went the way I normally go and I’ll never know why I didn’t.

Suffice to say, it was the first of several bad calls on my part.

We ended up on Canal Street in massive traffic. It was multiple lanes of “never going to move more than a foot at a time” madness. There was a lot of gridlock, so much so that Alpha Tween said “Isn’t that supposed to be illegal? Don’t they care?”

To which I reply, no. It’s New York City. They don’t give a rats ass unless a cop is there.

So we get to… you know what I don’t even know where we were. It’s a blur. All I know is, we were in the right lane, not making progress but at the time, relatively OK with that. Aside from Alpha needing a bathroom (BECAUSE OF COURSE HE DOES) we weren’t in a hurry.

So we had moved another 3 and a half inches and then stopped, when the guy in front of me gets out of his car. He’s on the phone and I figured maybe he’s trying to get a bead on exactly where he is so someone can navigate him out of there.

No, he flat out leaves his car and walks down the street. Still on his phone. To look at sunglasses.

The glasses weren’t even THIS cool – image via

Seriously. He just said to himself, “You know what? Fuck it. I need some new shades.” Then got out of the car and left it there on the side of the road.

Which, if you drive in NYC, you know is just something we called “normal.”

But hang on, because it gets better.

Slappy is down the block looking at glasses so of course the damned traffic starts moving. In fact it moves a lot. So much so that had

jackass been in his car we would have moved a block. I’d go around the idiot’s car but nobody will let me because New York City Drivers.

When Slappy finally sees the traffic move, what do you think he does? Run back to his car when he realizes he’s holding up an entire lane of traffic?

Hell no.

He wanders back – you could call it a saunter – finishes his phone call, then gets in his car.

By now the light is red. So he pulls forward again, stopping ironically right next to the sunglasses place.

At that point, the vendor runs to the car and leans into the window. The boys and I are actually impressed by this – entrepreneurship at it’s finest.

You’d think Slappy would want to do it quickly because of course he’s already held up traffic once. But no, the idiot hands the vendor a $20 bill. And waits for change.

And of course the light goes green again.

image captured from the movie Big Trouble in Little China and is NOT a self potrait

image captured from the movie Big Trouble in Little China and is NOT a self potrait

Yes, again, we’re stuck behind this moron as he continues his transaction as if we’re not there. And once again I can’t get over to another lane because Screw you.

This time though, as much as because it’s the only way I can blow off steam as it is because I have a delusion it will work, I blow my horn. As do the dozen cars behind me.

You know what this idiot does?


Yes, in case I didn’t realize he wasn’t going anywhere, Asshat McGee thought some blinkers might let us know he’s in the middle of something vital.

Finally the vendor’s helper brings change back – to their credit they both look back at the cars with a “sorry” facial expression – then the light turns red and the driver FINALLY moves his car.

But wait.

That’s NOT all.

The frakking moron turns on his left indicator.

Now, recall we’re in the far right lane. There are three, maybe four lanes of traffic between him and the left side if the road.

“What’s he doing?” inquires Alpha.

It’s a pretty freaking good question.

I figure, the guy must need to get over and is just starting the process now.

BUT NO. This guy – after having screwed over everyone behind him – has decided to somehow force his way into a left turn across multiple lanes of heavy traffic.

An incredulous traffic cop showed up and after a moments discussion – where the cop just looked flabbergasted and I could only imagine this fuckwit in front of me was all like “Well, I HAD to get these kicking new shades, but I really need to make this left turn” – the cop actually stops oncoming traffic AND all the lanes going our way so this waste of space can make his left.

I swear to God this is all true. NONE OF IT is hyperbole. This happened exactly like this.

But hey, how could it be the moron’s fault? Really, why didn’t I know the world revolved around his dumb ass? I mean, we should all stop

image via

at any time so he can overpay for some cheap sunglasses he could get in a freaking CVS for half the price. It’s part of being the center of the universe, right?

Hell, I’m the idjit who drove into the city in the first place.

I probably deserved what I got.

On the plus side, the boys decided that we would be better off with either jet boots or a hover car and are going to build either/or.

So I got that (and a Guinness) going for me, which is nice.

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My New Life’s Ambition Involves Zombies

I have a lot of ambition.

Some of it has been realized—attending and covering the Senior Bowl in Mobile, Alabama and covering the NFL Draft live at Radio City Music Hall. I’ve done both for about five years now.

Some of it has not—I want to cover the Super Bowl, I want to publish a book and I want to sky dive.

I’ll get to them at some point of course.

I have a new ambition now, one which may not be easy, but I’m putting it out into the universe anyway.

My newest ambition is to to get on The Talking Dead.

image via AMC

For those of you unfamiliar, The Talking Dead is a talk show, hosted by Chris Hardwick of Nerdist fame, which airs right after each episode of The Walking Dead, the awesome zombie television show on AMC.

You might also recognize his voice from Back to the Barnyard.

Basically, the show gathers Hardwick and three other people (sometimes cast members, sometimes celebrity fans) who then talk about the show in general as well as the episode we just saw.

Man, I so need to be on this show.

I would be an awesome guest. I know the show and comic backwards and forwards. I’m funny (RIGHT?) and well spoken.

I’m even semi-famous thanks to the videos I do at Bleacher Report.

I’ve got it all!

Hey, I even have a post planned for sometime in the next few weeks (one of the Pops in Pop Culture pieces) about Rick Grimes as a dad.

Honestly, there’s no harder job than parenting during the apocalypse. You can’t even fob them off on the public school system to get a break from the little monsters.

Yeah, I’ve got takes for days about this show.

So there it is. I’m not sure how to make it happen yet, but it will happen.

Then I just have to get the kids on The Walking Dead itself as zombies and all will be well.

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Sometimes Social Media is for Something Other Than Bitching Loudly

I tend to see a lot of frustration on social media these days—trial verdicts and steroids in sports and random, bad things happening. Social Media—chiefly Twitter and Facebook of course—is the place where you go to yell.


And for long stretches of time.

image via

Why not? A lot of the time it’s an echo chamber—the people you follow and who follow you often believe (and get cheesed off by) the same stuff. It can be a little different for me at times because I’m in sports media, so that particular feed doesn’t get as much politics and whatnot in it because nobody is paying me to spout off about that stuff.

I will admit I do nerd it up on there at times though and others pay the price.

Still, my Facebook page has been filled with various bits of outrage for the last few weeks and I’ll be honest—it was getting to the point that I really couldn’t take it anymore. I mean, I get it, I’m outraged about a lot as well, but man it gets to be hard when every post is filled with anger and—often—vitriol.

On either end of the political spectrum by the way. Thanks media—you’ve taught us that screaming opinions and not listening is the way to go!

Yesterday though, the very first thing I saw on social media—Facebook to be exact—was a picture of an old college friend standing with his newborn baby boy. The kid was already smiling, which makes sense because his dad is awesome.

Social media is for a lot of different things. Sometimes we forget it can be a reminder life isn’t all anger and frustration.

So next time you’re looking at Facebook or Twitter and getting frustrated, do a search of your friends and followers. Look for the pictures they post and the updates they have which share their joy rather than their frustration.

And then go ahead and post some of your own. Go take a stupid picture of the cat. Find something dumb but adorable your kid says. Take a picture of a pint of beer and label it “IT’S DRINK O’CLOCK SOMEWHERE!”

If you can’t find the fun and joy in your feed, make the fun and joy in your feed.

And in that vein, here is an awesome picture of a T-Rex with tiny arms who is overcoming his adversity.

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I Love Everything The Kids Do, Even Pokemon (Usually)

When I was typing up the first post of the day—the You’ve Got Nothing to Prove (no you really don’t) post—it made me think back to a conversation I had with my wife.

No, not the one about the coffee ice cubes which, I don’t care what anyone says, will make us rich!

This one was much longer ago, back before The Professor was born.

Use your TARDIS to travel back in time with me…… copyright probably BBC, it wasn’t marked. Possibly copyright, Gallifrey

Actually, when my wife was still pregnant with the little rugrat but before we knew “he” was a “he” or a “she.” My wife was watching me play with Alpha-Toddler (you know him as the Tween)—I don’t recall what we were doing but it probably involved him attacking me.

When the Alpha-Toddler had alpha-toddled off to do something else, my wife asked me whether I would treat a daughter the same way as I did our son.

Not sure what she meant, I asked her to clarify.

Her response was that she was wondering if I would do the same things—in general—with a daughter that I did with my son. Would I watch football with her? Would I wrestle and play tag with her? Would I share the things I loved with her, even if they weren’t “traditionally girl things?”

I put that last part in quotes not because I am quoting The Wife, but because what the hell is a “traditional girl thing” anyway?

Anyway, I thought about it for a minute or two and said that I hoped I would.

Me, most Sundays the last few years. (copyright CBS &

That I would hope that she would sit with me while I watch the Jets lose again, that she would dry my tears the same way our son did. That if she wanted to read comics with me or play a video game, I’d be happy to.

That if she liked to play soccer or football, to pretend to be a knight slaying a dragon or whatever made her happy, I’d be right there just like I was for our son.

But that until I had a daughter, I really didn’t know. Frankly, at the time I was more concerned that if she didn’t want to do any of those things that I wouldn’t know what to do with her.

Now, since we ended up with a boy, I didn’t exactly have that to deal with any of that.

However, the Professor definitely has his own interests, his own likes and dislikes. Some of those match up with my own, others don’t. He tolerates football because he likes to hang out with me, but he’d rather play Pokemon and that’s fine (although I haven’t a clue what he or his brother are talking about). He used to dress up in princess dresses (not my speed but he did make an adorable princess). He likes sports, but mostly individual ones like gymnastics or tennis.

While I didn’t get that daughter, it turns out that I still had to deal with almost the same question.

In the end, I did have to deal with having a child who wasn’t exactly like me. Two actually, because Alpha Tween is definitely his own person as well.

The answer to my wife’s question from eight years ago is—in my mind—emphatically yes. Because boy or girl, the goal is the same.

copyright via Simon & Schuster

To treat them with respect for the things they like, even if they don’t mirror my own likes.

Even if it’s that they like the prequel Star Wars movies over the original one, don’t think Han Shot first and find the Lord of the Rings not all that interesting.

So far none of that has happened because I’m a damned good parent who teaches his kids the proper way of things, but the point is it’s OK with me if their interests diverge. And it should be for you as well.

When one of the kids wants to do something with me that they love, I love it too, even if it’s just for the hour we’re hanging out. I love it, because they love it.

And that respect for the different likes, dislikes and interests of others will hopefully be something they take with them for the rest of their lives.

Hey, are you following Dad Moon Rising on Twitter or Facebook? Why the hell not?


My Wife is an Entrepreneurial Genius

When I returned from dropping my wife off at the train station this morning, I opened the freezer in the hopes of grabbing some ice for a delicious glass of water.

What I found initially was one tray of still-freezing cubes and another filled with a brown frozen substance. After a moment of early morning confusion which included me wondering if she had accidentally spilled something into the tray and didn’t see it, I decided two things.

1) It was definitely coffee.

2) It was probably on purpose.

So I texted her. Here’s how that conversation went.

 photo IceCubmadness_zps38673759.jpg

We then had a longer conversation via phone because texting takes too long whereas I explained I had never seen such madness before and that her idea was a groundbreaking moneymaker for the family.

“What,” you say, “I can have iced cubes of coffee in my iced coffee?”


Genius, right?

So I’m going to let you all in on the ground floor here because I figure there is a ton of money to be made.

Think about it.

With Iced Coffee Cubes (TM) you can add coldness to your coffee and not water it down with things like water.

With Iced Coffee Cubes (TM) you can add coffee flavor to boring old water while making it cold.

Or, for the person on the go, with Iced Coffee Cubes (TM) you can just grab a pop it in you mouth when you’re running late and don’t have time to make coffee.

This is a license to print money. My wife is brilliant.

Get Don Draper on the phone.

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You’ve got nothing to prove (you really don’t)

I’m a nerd.

That used to be a “brave” thing to say because it wasn’t cool. Which was fine, though I didn’t realize that at the time because like everyone else, I wanted to be cool.

Nowadays it’s considered cool to be a nerd. Of course, it was always cool to be a nerd—because everyone was a nerd for something.

Most people just didn’t realize it.

When I worked on Justice League Unlimited many moons ago, one of my bosses and I were teasing one of the production coordinators on the crew that he was a nerd, but didn’t know it.

He was a big sports fan, not a comic or sci-fi type of guy. In his mind, he was not a geek. Until my boss Shaun pointed out that the fact that he had painted his face to attend a game and cheer at the top of his lungs was pretty geeky.

Our friend and co-worker was passionate about Ohio State basketball.

Being a nerd is about passion (always has been), not what you’re passionate about.

Wil Wheaton, former Wesley Crusher and current writer and geek icon, puts it best:

image via and Wil Wheaton, evil or not

Yet, as is always the case, there are fractures in the community. For some reason, despite being ostracized all our lives for being outside the realm of normal, the nerd community has decided that for some reason people are faking it and don’t belong.

It seems as if the fakers are frequently women, but there is absolutely infighting elsewhere.

I’ve known geek girls all my life. I’m married to one, though I think I’ve made it worse since I’m a horrible influence on her and forced her into watching Battlestar Galactica (the remake) and Shaun of the Dead.

You should be welcomed. Men, women, children—you should be welcomed into the community of nerds, be they Star Wars fans, comic book readers, Harry Potter cosplayers or insane sports fans. There’s room for each and every one of you.

Or at least there is in my world and will be in the world I teach my kids about.

With that in mind, I present to you this video, which I found on Mr. Wheaton’s page yesterday.

No matter who you are, what you love, your gender, age or any other of a billion factors, you are always welcome in my geeky world.

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My Dog is NOT A PRINCESS. Dammit.

We take Dog to the same groomer pretty much each month. As a “hair dog” (a dog with hair, not fur), she needs to grooming, especially when it’s a billion degrees and 120% humidity outside.

They do a great job with her, but we have one complaint.

They keep putting bows on her.




She’s a rough and tumble pup. She wrestles, she nips, she runs and generally acts like a nutball.

She is not a “girly girl” dog who requires frilly frivolity.

She does have a bow tie, but that’s fashion. And besides, bow ties are cool.

This guy knows. (image via

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Winning Dad of the Interwebs for Today (and why cursing sometimes undercuts your point)

So today I read a post at which—I swear to God—is not a normal stop on my daily interweb perusals.

I had missed this particular kerfuffle but apparently there was a 14 year old girl who lives in Austin, Texas and had gotten herself some unintentional internet notoriety (is there any other kind?) for a sign she took to a protest against many of the laws Texas is trying hard to pass restricting women’s health rights.

Now she and her friend came up with a sign which was at once great (because it really was funny in a blue/low brow way) and rude.

I shall repeat the words here—hold onto your knickers kids.

The sign said:

Now, it’s not shocking that this went viral and if you know me, it’s also not shocking I was amused. After all, I have this shirt:

So yeah, if I didn’t offend you with the first one, I probably did there.

I will say, in my defense, that as the son of a carpenter and a man of the people, Jesus would probably converse in language some of you would blush at. My opinion—for whatever it’s worth—is that if Jesus were to pop up today, he’d probably speak to people in vernacular which is common to the majority of us.

And frankly, the above message is his message anyway and the quickest way to say it.

Anyway, let me get back to the story for the three of you still reading (hi mom!).

The young lady in question was shouted and swore at by one “Christian” (I put it in quotes because why paint ya’ll with the same brush?) in person who wasn’t exactly acting very Christian-like.

She also was basically assaulted—by mostly adults—on social media and was called among other things “a whore.”


So this is where dad becomes dad of the interwebs for today—he takes to social media and message boards to back his daughter. But from what I’ve seen, he didn’t just go for the “HEY DOUCHEBAG SAY THAT TO MY FACE AND I’LL KICK YOUR ASS” common behind keyboards across the internet.

He attempted to engage in debate—which as we know on social media, comment boards and message boards is a lost cause. But he did that anyway and continues to.

See, this is an awesome dad because not only is he defending his child he’s showing her that you can have a point and do so without resorting to bullying, name calling or being an asshole.

Maybe you don’t agree with he and his daughter and maybe you think he was irresponsible letting her take that sign out there to begin with. I mean, let’s face it, while you can expect harassment at any protest by people who disagree with you, that sign is a sure way to attract the wrong attention.

It’s eye catching, it gets its point across and again, I laughed, but you risk having your message missed because of the language. It’s rude. One could argue that what the legislature in Texas is doing is rude too, but again, you risk offending more people than changing their mind by not conforming to basic polite language.

The vulgarity of the phrasing can undercut and distract from your point.

On the other hand, I don’t really worry much about conforming so what the crap do I know, amirite?

But back to the dad point—he let her express herself, supported her desire to try and affect change and then when it got tough, he showed the right way to fight back.

That’s what being a parent is about. Guiding your kids, allowing them to make mistakes, backing them when things get tough and showing them the right way to do things.

So good work Bill Cain. Teaching your child to conduct his or herself in the face of hatred or bullying is at least as important as teaching them to be politically active, educated and passionate about their opinions.

In fact, if we could all conduct ourselves with your attitude, we might actually spend time talking through our issues instead of screaming at each other like toddlers.

Hell we might even solve some of them. Crazy, right?

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What I’m Into:

Reading: Dead Beat by Jim Butcher Listening to: The Heist, Macklemore Watching: Damages