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A few years ago, I stumbled onto a book written by one of my musical idols. The concept was something that I knew I would relate; being a punk-philosophied individual now adjusting to the new role of fatherhood. The book was “Punk Rock Dad” by Jim Lindberg the former lead singer of Pennywise. For the punk-uneducated, Pennywise is a working class band from Hermosa Beach, California and have been around for over 20 years. And as most bands of this vintage, they have struggled with the rigorous touring, a lack of finances, substances, authority figures, failures, and now…old age.

Lindberg’s book really resonated with me coming from the skate community. We were misunderstood and hated and trying to determine our identity. Now we’re growing up and have children we need to teach respect and compassion to. I couldn’t put the book down. It outlined the challenges of being an individual within a broken system that you despised, having children in a world that was flawed, and now becoming part of that system you once fought to change. Jim’s intimate description of his emotional awakenings weren’t at all that different from what I’ve felt having Son #1.

About eight months ago, I heard the book’s concept was going to be expanded into a documentary call "The Other F Word." Jim would be the main source of executive production but it would touch some of my adolescent idols who are now middle aged adults with families and lives. It was their story of going from the one ‘F’ word to the new ‘F’ word; Fatherhood. I’ve been waiting months for the Seattle screening. And on November 18th, I was able to have my excitement and anticipation fulfilled.

I wanted to make sure I moderated my expectations of the film. After all, films based on books are typically nowhere near as satisfying. Moreover, this wasn’t necessarily a re-creation of the book; it adopted the concept of punk growing up. The film opens up pretty fluffy mostly documenting the chronicles of the subject fathers in their early years performing and why they got into punk music. Most had somewhat self destructive tendencies and absent parents. The punk community presented them a family that understood them. After all, at the very core of our existence, we all want to be accepted. I wanted to hear more about the inner most feelings of how the metamorphosis has been challenging but empowering and painful. It took seemingly too long to get into it.

But gradually, the film drops into the candid and revealing feelings of these musicians/fathers. Be warned, sometimes it’s inarticulate and profane. But in other moments it’s incredibly revealing and tearful. The interestingly poignant observations from this film weren’t necessarily the revealing moments on screen between father and child but were the raw emotions being described by the dad despite the lack of articulation. At one point of the film, you wonder about the sanity of Duane Peters of US Bombs fame. Driving in his beat up old van he looks lost, degenerate, and is barely understandable.

Later in the film, he breaks away from the saturated drug induced euphoria in a strangely focused moment. Talking about his son Chess, he re-creates in vivid detail the day his son was killed in a car accident. Through the slurs and transgressions, you can envision how difficult it was to see his son’s car tore in two with no body left to identify. The harsh reality of his lost son drives him to a suicide mission. He awkwardly revisits the fumbling for his gun and one drug induced fit later he has the firearm in his mouth. In his description of the moment you can feel life slip away through his tears. And before he pulls the trigger, his other two boys find him and save him from himself. Rebounding, he has found peace in what’s left. Life.

In an equally moving moment, Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers provides a contradiction of the popular perception of a punk musician. Coming from a family that wasn’t there for him, he’s solely focused on being there for his daughter no matter where in the world he is. And in what may be one of the most revealing comments of the film, he remarks how he didn’t give his children life. Between the joyful tears of appreciating, he murmurs it was his children who gave him life and focus.

At the center of the film is Lindberg, who finds himself torn between the pressures of the band, making a living and being a father to his three daughters. As his priorities are turning, we see him abruptly leave a worldwide tour in progress without informing his bandmates. He flies back to Hermosa Beach to attend the father-daughter dance with his middle daughter who has never had her father to herself. He recognizes that this daughter really needs his undivided focus. During filming, he quits Pennywise so he’ll no longer miss those milestones; birthdays, first days of school, and dances are more important than the next show in Denmark or Japan.

The film was what I had hoped; an intimate portrait of the misunderstood youth now grown and maturing into fathers. It asks what happens when a generation's ultimate anti-authoritarians -- punk rockers -- become society's ultimate authorities – dads. We're all growing and trying to find our identity and our way. I didn't come from a broken home. I wasn't abused. I was a suburban white kid like so many others. And because it was so homogeneous, I struggled with finding my identity and needed to escape to something different. I found skateboarding and punk rock. I felt accepted and part of something that shared my natural interest in questioning and fighting the status quo.



Now where did you go when you grow up? I feel like this film spoke to the misunderstood creative subset of my generation. And while we all had dissimilar upbringing, we share in a belief of changing the world. I think about it a lot now. I’m still idealistically driven but I'm learning how to be a better father every day. It’s not perfect and has flaws but I focus on what my children need to be emotionally successful in their lives. It’s the examples of hard work, being idealistic and being educated to fight for what you believe in. I don't want them to settle but do want them to push themselves, their beliefs, and ways of thinking.

These are punk rock values and are what inspired this blog. These are the lessons of strength and how it’s OK to feel pain and cry then feel joy and laugh.


A lot of people you cross paths with will always ask what you do for a living and gauge how successful are you. Folks will talk about how their job is their calling and may even rub their success, or lack thereof, in your face. They're missing the point; they're missing what it is to be alive. I was at the emotional bottom when Son #1 was born almost seven years ago. And while we may have brought him into this world, he kept me IN this world. He kept me living with a simple thing called hope and that old punk rock concept of changing the world.

I remember being young and wanting to set the world on fire with my ideals. I wanted to change the world. And now what I’m starting to realize is that I can change the world, I can make an influential difference on a system. The way I can change it is by raising better children.

For ‘New Music Monday,’ I wanted to wait a few days a do a late edition in order to let the world enjoy the last entry about Son #2 and his sandwich eating habits. Now about a half of a week removed from that entry, it’s time to drop a little science about another addition to the ever-growing catalog of music.

I told myself that one of these days I’d review an album that I wasn’t so biased about. If you look back on my reviews over the last few years, you’ll find three things: One; I tend to listen to one form of music. Two; I tend to only review things I like. And three; I have absolutely no credibility or expertise in musical reviews. Most of the time, I don’t even know what I’m talking about. That being said, this isn’t the review to steer away from my biases.


The melodic hardcore set from Chicago, Rise Against, has just released their much anticipated 6th studio album. So when I say much anticipated, maybe I’m only including myself in the mix as I follow them on Facebook and Twitter and knew it was coming. I would imagine the normal listening public who are enthralled with Lady Gaga and Chris Brown had no awareness that the release of “Endgame” was coming.

“Endgame” comes with a mixed bag of stuff. It’s right on brand with Rise Against but I would conclude that there’s nothing that stands out of unique and original direction here. That’s not a bad thing. I wasn’t looking for something new and different. Rise Against is good at one thing. That’s politically charged, unrelentless, barraging, unforgiving, lyrics and music. “Endgame” is just that and is very solid from beginning to end. While the music carries similar tones throughout and becomes almost monotonous, the lyrics don’t pull any punches from topic to content to delivery.

This is what you would expect from the lead man, Tim McIlrath. He has made a successful career creating and urgent mix of concern and defiance in his intensely metaphorical lyrics. When you listen, you have to pay attention. It’s fast, it’s loud, and it’s deep. If there’s one thing I could sincerely implore on you in my writing about the dire sense of urgency in the socio-political emotionally driven stories here is to wade through the volume and screaming to allow the message to fall upon your soul.

“Endgame,” and all other albums by Rise Against, is a call to emotional arms. It’s a message to brothers and sisters, friends and families, to band together to extinguish the grief and dismay in the world. And while all of this seems inappropriately messaged through punk rock, it couldn’t be any truer.

Help is on the Way – While our nation has all but forgotten the destruction and the emergency response to Hurricane Katrina, the delivery of this song reminds us of how many suffered in more ways than one. “We were told to sit tight because help is on the way but it never came.”

Architects – This song reminds you of your abilities for choice and defining your life through punishing guitar riffs. It’s a welcome reminder that we can change the negativity around us. It’s the flag being raised for standing by what you believe in. "Do you care to be the layer of the bricks that seal your fate; Or would you rather be the architect of what we might create?"

Make it Stop – From the concerted singing of children in the beginning to the narrated names of children who are victims of suicide at the end, this song doesn’t ever let up on your ears. The concept is bullying in our schools and how our youth are tormented so much that they believe ending their lives is the only answer. We’ve created an education system that lacks compassion for being unique and different. "And too much blood has flowed from the wrists from the children shamed for those they chose to kiss.”

Ultimately, “Endgame" stacks up as an epic album of social topic content. Unfortunately, it’ll never get the mainstream press it deserves due to the musical content unleashed through melodic hardcore guitar riffs and screaming. The content is truly an eye opener by addressing everything from Hurricane Katrina to bullying in schools to political improprieties. It’s an emotional calling to arms and minds. While some would say it lacks the marquee closing power of notable ‘singles’ for the radio, I would refute that the strength of the album is in it’s emotional completeness and the awareness it gives the listener. If you didn’t care before, after a listen, you care now. This album is not full of show stoppers or filler. It is full of heart.

In an effort to fall back into some sort of operating rhythm, it seems strangely important to drop a new review on “New Music Monday.” It’s been a few months since I’ve given my unbiased view of some new music. So we’re back in the saddle again. And coincidentally, one of my most anticipated albums for 2011 was released in January.

Where does this leave me for the rest of the year if this was my most anticipated? Who knows?

Two words. Social Distortion. An American idol when it comes to my-train-wreck-life-as-a-failure punk rock. Like their label mates, Bad Religion, Social D has been around 30 years and released its share of albums developing a cult following. But unlike the melodic hardcore harmonies and politically motivated songs of Bad Religion, Social D takes more of the inner-focused life-is-the-school-of-hard-knocks and it ain’t getting no better approach.


Social D hasn’t released a studio album since 2004. So waiting for the new album, “Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes,” was difficult. It was seven years in the making and each track has been meticulously crafted into vintage Social Distortion. Now if you’re an old school Social D fan, you may somewhat surprised by the music and lyrics. If you are new to the following, you will be initiated with a truly classic record by one of the greatest punk acts to emerge from Orange County.

Hardcore Social D fans do not worry. The sound is authentic but there’s a new wrinkle of exploration outside of the heavy bass laden anthems of the past. This go round, Mike Ness and his peeps have channeled a new level of inspiration. “Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes” is punk meets the blues meets gospel. It’s a unique blend. And not the angry aggressive punk most are accustomed to. Social D is punk but about durability and longevity. You can feel all of that here on this record.

The lyrics are less dark than previous Social D records. There’s a unique upbeat classic bluesy feel here all the way down to some female background vocals on tracks. If you thought Ness was getting soft, was grizzled beyond repair and out of fucks to give, think again, compadre. "Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes" was worth a seven-year wait, and the songs speak loudly enough for Social Distortion’s entire discography.

On to a cross section of the album’s sweet content:

California (Hustle and Flow) – This is probably the most uncharacteristic tune on the record. It’s dripping with the blues like syrup off a waffle at Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles. Blues chords and big girl background vocalists line this song. ‘Life gets hard and then it gets good, like I always knew it would.’ A strange upbeat lyric from the once-downer-woe-is-me Ness. The sound is something like that of the Black Crowes being soulfully southern goodness sprinkling in a little George Thorogood.

Bakersfield – This is a slow burner which echoes the tender sentiment of wanting to go to the way things were in a relationship. Trapped in Bakersfield, we get the opportunity to sympathize with an old road warrior reflecting on what went wrong. But with the challenges, he’s on his way home in hopes that they can relight that old flame. You can almost smell the cigarette smoke and taste the whiskey in the glass as our protagonist reflects.

Writing on the Wall – Sweet crunchy guitar strumming lead you in to the somber and disappointed Ness pining away about a failing relationship. While listening, you feel like you could be easily sitting in an old run down hotel in the American southwest. On the edge of the bed staring into the old crack mirror behind the TV, you can envision Ness, or us, replaying the train wreck of our relationships. Incredibly personal, we hear exactly how we felt in our own failures. Retrospect, not admitting it was over, and loneliness. We’ve all been there. It’s a song of unexpected regret. And while the content is not new, the musicality of the song with the piano is.

Still Alive – While many of the songs on “Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes” explore a mixture of sounds and more enlightening lyrics, this song is the closer for the album and harkens back to some of the old classic of Social D. This song is this album’s “Ball and Chain.” The driving guitar and urgently delivered lyrics of surviving no matter what despair is in your way is right here. Ness has seen it all but is still alive. The songs rips and you find yourself getting a pep talk about perseverance and resiliency.

Generation X. We’re a jumbled mess of kids trying to be adults and parents these days. And while I can’t speak for an entire diverse generation of souls trying to find their way in a dysfunctional world, I can speak for the small subset of my generation who has looked for a voice that shared our collective cry. Mike Ness is akin to our Johnny Cash. OK, that may be a little extreme. But for the small subset of Generation X that I represent, Ness has been our storyteller channeling our “Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes” for the 30 years. This is Johnny Cash meets the Clash.

“Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes” is uncharacteristically characteristic Social Distortion. Ness and his boys could have easily packed it in and accepted the patriarchal position in punk’s hall of honor; they reveal a willingness to push the comfort zone working with different harmonies, slower tempos, and upbeat concepts. As always, Mike Ness is undeniably ‘here to make a stand with a guitar in his hand.’

June snuck right past me. It probably had a lot to do with selling our house and starting a new job more than anything. Just the headache of both of those activities causes a person to lose a grip on time.

So I’m late to the game on ‘New Music Monday’ once again. I suppose no one other than me gets any enjoyment out of this particular monthly post. My wife has admitted to me that she briefly reads the title and some of the introduction and then blah, blah, blah. My most ardent supporter finds no value in my monthly delve into to musical review foray? Tis true.

Whatever. Onward into the next review despite the loneliness here on the information superhighway (read: dead-end backroad) of the blogosphere.

I seem to stumble across musical nuggets in a variety of places. Mountain bike movie soundtracks have filled more than their fair share of contributions to my musical library. Many a moon ago, I was absorbed by a film which led me to a new band. That band was The Gaslight Anthem from New Jersey. One could describe them as punk meets garage meets roots meets folk meets Bruce Springsteen music. As I mentioned above, they are from New Jersey so there is a very clear element of inspiration from Springsteen in their tunes.


The Gaslight Anthem was just one of many of my favorite groups releasing music. On June 15, the band released their latest studio album, ‘American Slang.’ This record isn’t a stretch in regard to sound. It’s vintage Springsteen a la nostalgia, uhh, I mean The Gaslight Anthem. I’m not a fan of Springsteen but the punkish, rootsy nature of The Gaslight Anthem is pretty compelling. Listen to any one of their releases and you will be amazed to know these dudes are in their 20’s. Their sound, talent, songwriting, and passion suggest that they are old souls.

Get it here.

‘American Slang’ is an extension of American nostalgia. While listening, the album makes you feel like you should be bellied up to the bar at and old roadside 1960’s diner. That’s not to say they have a 60’s sound. It’s Americana and the songs pay tribute to American heritage and small town values. It reminds us that there is a little bit of small town, life’s struggles and hardships, and rewarding successes in all of us. This is what I call driving music. Not driving like loud and obnoxious, but get in your car and road trip across America music. It makes you feel like you should stop and absorb the sights and sounds along the way.

Let’s talk songs off the album:

American Slang – The title track of the record kicks off the album in fifth gear. It sets the stage for a more rocking album than the last. The song is a simple beat and guitar riffs that are naked in production. The song is the metaphor for our way of life in a simpler time. It’s one part American dream (the hope) and one part American slang (the reality).

The Diamond Church Street Choir – A little jazzy guitar and a shuffling beat take you on a journey back in time in the form of the comforting memory of a church choir. It’s a vivid song filled with imagery of the past with a nod to something we can all relate to – church.

We Did it When We Were Young – An austere song which definitely reconnects this album to previous albums. It has that passion and depth that The Gaslight Anthem is known for. The echoing singing is a perfect effect to the earnestness of the message of leaving the past failed relationship behind.

‘American Slang’ isn’t forged in heartbreaking emotion and punk chords like the previous album, ‘The 59 Sound.’ That record was epic. Unfortunately, that makes you want more originality out of this record. The bar has been raised for The Gaslight Anthem. But make no mistake, lyrically and musically ‘American Slang’ is a great album that reinforces the band’s talent and storytelling. It’s much better than most of the cookie cutter poop you can hear on the radio. And while certain songs will make it on rock radio, this is American punk rock music found on a jukebox in your favorite pub in the run-down part of town. This is great music. The Gaslight Anthem is soulful punk paying homage to American nostalgia in the form of old flames, barren highways, hot rods, and memories..

Music is like a drug to me. One could argue that there’s some sort of chemical addiction that possesses and compels me to consume music in any form. My days of playing it are behind me, but my appreciation for its multiple forms are still very alive. Combine that with my penchant for listening to music at any stage of the day, and I’m a junkie. Consumption, entertainment, analysis, you name it, I’m hooked.

So it’s only appropriate that on ‘New Music Monday’ (a day late) that I review a record that I recently stumbled on to which is the aural listening equivalent to heroin. The damn thing is just so fun to listen to and is appropriately named considering my uncontrollable and unmediated need for musical fixes.

The Chicago based punk trio appropriately named Alkaline Trio recently released their latest studio album, “This Addiction.” And as I mentioned above, I’m hooked like a crackhead junkie. The album is infectious from beginning to end and the songs are all entertaining. The topics of the songs are nothing new or original. Relationships and breakups. But hey, that’s what makes this record universal. It’s not like they’re doing innovative but it’s catchy, fun to listen to, and not ‘heavy’ or weighted down by message or music.


Alkaline Trio has been around for sometime but for one reason or another, I’ve never been really into them. “This Addiction” is their seventh studio album in the last 12 years. That, my friends, is longevity. After hearing the first single, I thought to myself, “Self, these dudes play music you like.” So after picking up “This Addiction,” I picked up three of their older releases. Each one is great in its own right. But what makes “This Addiction” better is the fact that the band released this on their own label allowing for a slight bit more creative freedom. The result? Success and a very entertaining record in any circumstance.

“This Addiction” contains some great songs; starting with the title track linking a relationship to the metaphor of a heroin addiction. While that sounds a little dark to some of you ‘purer’ readers, consider the analogy. In all honesty, how many of us are ‘addicted’ to the significant other in our lives? Whether functional or dysfunctional, we all feed of the chemical dependency of love (or drama) in our relationships. The album is short with only 11 songs all about three minutes long. So one would think there is not much to pick from. On the contrary, picking three songs off of the album was somewhat challenging as I enjoyed them all.

Dead on the Floor – I love the bass line in this song. It’s all over the place and makes the song even more musically interesting to listen to. But from a concept, a song about a relationship failure isn’t a new topic. But as humans, we all look for someone suffering worse than us. The classic misery loves company mantra. In an ironically factual lyric about miscommunication in relationships, “When you asked me if I’d stay forever. Guess you meant just for the week.”

Eating me Alive – While only being a trio, this song has keys and some crazy below-the-radar doo-wop voices added during recording. Musically, the song is very simple and formulaic in its layout. But it’s totally the Cure meets the Talking Heads which makes it great. And this just in, another song about a failed relationship.

Piss and Vinegar – The title of this song makes it an instant classic.



As a veteran of the Vans Warped Tour, you can’t go wrong with any album from Alkaline Trio. All are great. I personally like “This Addiction” and “Agony & Irony” the best. They aren’t a super-polished pop band easy on the ears. There’s an appreciated edginess to the lead singer’s voice and the music. Furthermore, listening to it infects you with the punk edginess. As a matter of fact, we were listening to the album while making dinner the other evening when Son #1 turned to me nonchalantly and mused, “This song makes me want to jump off of the couch.” He then continues on in a more subtle whisper, “Too bad my mom is here.” Do you need another reason to listen? This isn’t politically charged or angry anti-authority punk. This is sunny-summer-where’s-my-skateboard-because-I-want-to-shred-the-local-shopping-mall-parking-lot-because-my-girlfriend-dumped-me music. Or, it’s I-want-to-jump-off-the-couch-because-it-seems-like-the-right-thing-to-do music.

Son #2 has reached a new developmental plateau. Upright walking under the supervised assistance of adult figures and/or wheeled devices specifically designed for midgets. You may recall, Son #2 has been on his own development schedule since pre-birth. Fertilization, birth, satiation, and movement have all been driven by the unorthodox nature of Son #2.


To inspire the young lad to bipedal freedom, a wheeled walker was gifted to him at his first birthday. As expected, Son #2 had more interest in the sounds and lights of the device rather than the unique motile freedom it inspired. Over and over, the shrill sounds and annoying music spewed through our house at a mind numbing frequency. Son #1 had much to do with aiding and abetting Son #2 in this aural annoyance.

But that’s where it stopped. Son #1 brilliantly led by example and scooted behind the walker, once or twice for good measure, in hopes to lure his brother into an attempt. No such luck. In Son #2’s defense, no coaxing or incentive was going to work on his thick skull. Walking? Why? He had been pulling himself up on to furniture in our living room. He showed no fear in lifting himself up next to the CD case of the entertainment center. These all presented opportunities for destruction. Interestingly, an innocent laptop USB port was harmed during the development of this child’s walking skills.


But it wasn’t until his mother ‘gently’ coerced him to stand behind the walker and grab the handle. She left him there to his own devices and his tears. Tough love, mother style. And who knew? He walked under his own power. It was epic, apparently. He fed off of our cheering and the in-your-face hysterics of his brother. All of that was short lived as he traveled from on end of the room to the other. You see, while waddling like an old codger, we failed to explain to him Newton’s First Law of Motion. Objects in motion tend to stay in motion unless acted upon by an external force. And that force was a piece of furniture at rest in his path.

Yes. The walker, under the power of Son #2, immediately stopped when contact was made with our CD cabinet. While I found this event entertaining, Son #2 seemed to be much less amused by his obstructed progress. He made this known by the banshee-like howls and the crocodile tears. Son #2 needed to learn the art of steering. As he approached an object under his own power, we tried to gently turn him to keep him going. We were always a little bit late though. I personally think he accelerated to hit the objects just to keep us from assisting and granting him the freedom to scream. That’s what I would’ve done.

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I had hoped that steering would be lesson two for him but we never quite reached it. At this point, Son #2 wants nothing to do with the business end of the walker. He prefers to sit in front of it and torment us with repetitive music and sounds emitted by this device. If he’s placed behind the walker now, he loses it, drops to the floor, and repeatedly beats his forehead on the ground. Not a problem on the carpet, but this leads to significant bruising and head trauma when performed on the kitchen floor.

Son #2 now has a new approach. He takes our hands and allows us escort him through the house. This is a nonnegotiable approach to mobility for Son #2. He’ll call for you but he doesn’t want you to pick him up. He wants your hands to help him walk around the house. Your only choice as this point is to facilitate the desire of the youth and escort him around until he reaches boredom and returns to making noise with the walker.

The parental-escort role which we now provide is actually pretty entertaining. Son #2 is proud of himself and this new technique. During the entire exercise in mobility, he is vocal about his enjoyment of being able to walk, even if it is under assisted parental power. The smiles, giggles, and screams are a clear illustration of his pride in being more self sufficient. There’s definitely a substantial amount of parental joy in watching the little guy develop. Granted, the schedule was no where near what it was like Son #1. Son #2 is doing things on his terms but needs your hands to do it. But God forbid you let go of his hands before he is ready to return to his crawling position. If you do, you will quickly be alerted by his air-raid like siren of discontent.

BEFORE WE GET STARTED, THERE SEEMS TO BE TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES WHICH ARE CAUSING MULTIPLE EMAIL UPDATES. MY APOLOGIES ON THIS MATTER.

In honor of the most recent Hallmark holiday which has so effortlessly sucked time, energy, and finances from our home while delivering intrigue, entertainment, and creativity to all, I’ll modestly opine about our latest seasonal extravaganza. All Hallow’s Eve has just passed through our home like a cold autumn wind.

I would strongly assess that this holiday is my lovely life-partner’s favorite. All though, I could easily be incorrect on this based on the volumetric inventory ownership of other holiday décor. Our garage is full of polymeric containment bins full of her seasonal adornments. Christmas probably has the highest inventoried level of accouterments based on my objective assessments. But her pride in procurement and precision in the execution of Halloween ornamentation conclusively suggests that it reigns supreme on our household Hallmark holiday objectification.

I typically detest and avoid most imperatively acknowledged holidays prescribed on the calendar. Halloween in particular, I’ve been quite aloof in the observation of its existence. Don’t get me wrong, I support my wife in her bliss in preparation for said holidays, but I do not share the same, or any, enthusiasm. Moreover, when it comes to donning a guise in some sort of grandeur, I usually participate on a timeline 1/7 that of Halley’s Comet. Uncharacteristically, I chose to unleash a new course of behavior for this holiday to accompany the spirit of the season (and to make my wife happy).

COSTUMES (YOUTH):
The standard of excellence was set this year when my wife and her consortium crafted the Hollywood-equivalent wardrobe plan for the costumes of the children. In total, there are seven disruptive boys in our circle. The ‘board of directors’ for costume design voted and it was unanimously decided that the boys would be the seven dwarfs. And conveniently, my niece would be Snow White. With a quick addition, the son of my brother-in-law’s female partner would replace Son #2 as a dwarf. Son #2 thus became the more appropriate bad apple from the literature.

All of the costumes for the dwarfs were crafted in homemade fashion by my mother, including the apple for Son #2. Needless to say this was a large scope of work and kept everyone busy up until the day before the festivities. My wife burned the midnight oil to stitch on patches and adjust belts. And with the last stitch and poke of a finger, all of the dwarf costumes were fitted, complete, and ready for exhibition on Halloween.


PUMPKINS:
One can’t celebrate or observe Halloween without the acquisition of pumpkins. On a trip to a local market, I discovered the existence of white variety. Without any concepts, I claimed we would ONLY carve white pumpkins this year. Needless to say, the best laid plans never seem to work out as we ended up with orange ones. I had hoped to take the boys to a local pumpkin patch to burn off some of the seasonal exuberance. The local farm had all of the fixings one would want for the season; a corn maze to lose your children in, hay rides for the allergy-challenged, activities for the un-budget-minded consumer, and fields of billions of multicolored Cucurbita Moschata for your picking pleasure.

Needless to say, we never made it to this epicenter of seasonal love due to the affliction of disease in our domicile and the oh-so-often working demands of ‘The Man.’ With two days left before Halloween; we sucked it up and visited the church where Son #1 attends pre-school. This religious facility had its own makeshift patch of pumpkins. We were left with the scrapings and leftovers but were able to narrow our selection to two orange orbs of carving goodness.


COSTUMES (ADULT):
The gauntlet had been thrown down with the execution of the dwarf costumes. My wife informed me that she and her consortium were going to dress as she-devils. Is this different than every day? She concluded with saying that she’d entertain wearing a costume that could be partnered with me, meaning I would need a costume. Knowing my abhorrence for a certain vampire movie based in Forks, Washington, my loving wife suggested that she and I could masquerade as the main adolescent couple of the film. No.

To conform to the predetermined and partially assembled dwarf theme, she and I agreed to follow the Disney lead. However, with a twist and a reincarnation of character, I decided to add my own tinge to our selection. The choice was Alice and the Mad Hatter. But instead of the colorful cartoonlike adornments created by the mouse-eared conglomerate, I chose to take my character along a darker path while my wife morphed her costume into a version consistent with the most popular perused electronic content on the internet. The understatement of the year: she looked ‘very’ good. The Mad Hatter took a turn a la Johnny Depp with my creation of the character in honor of the upcoming Tim Burton release. Goodwill, JoAnn Fabrics, and a moderate amount of construction led to an astonishing product that impressed others, scared kids, and won a costume contest on the Seattle Times.


PARTY:
Our annual observation of All Hallow’s Eve concludes with our hosting of family and friends at our home with dinner, trick-or-treating, and adult beverages. This year was no different except for the number in attendance may have doubled from prior year. At one point during the evening, there were approximately 10 children under the age of seven in costume. Now, multiply that by the accompanying adults and you have a small village. The masses were fed this year with a cornucopia of festive edible selections. Everything from chicken, to ghost cookies, to mummy dogs, to pumpkin seeds were served for consumption. There was no shortage of youth and adult type beverages for drinkability. I too partook in the jovial consumption with a tea cup continually filled with carefully crafted home-brew ales.

We paraded the dwarfs and accompanying children through the neighborhood to pillage families for confectionary sweets and treats. In character, the dwarfs sauntered up and down the walkways of the neighborhood singing the Hi-Ho tune at the top of their lungs. Back at our abode, the dwarfs inspected and consumed their pirate booty. And as for the rest of us, we drank and ate then drank more. It’s always interesting to observe how party patrons disband through out the night leaving the core hard core celebrators left. This is a role I, and others, embellish. So much so that Alice’s blond wig made the rounds for proper photogenic opportunities.


Another successfully executed holiday. Hallmark holiday or not, I admit I had a great time in costume. I will be renting it out next year. You know, it is an award winning concept. All that being said, the stakes will be much higher for next Halloween, both in party execution and costume design.