An R.E.M. Memory
They Don’t Miss Me
Solo Survival
Over a 48-hour period last week, I discovered something very important. I can get along just fine without my wife.
That does not mean that I want to get rid of her or think taking care of our daughter alone is easy. All I’m saying is that I can do it.
Maria went away for work for a couple of days last week. Actually, she went to Las Vegas without me, but my complaints about that are another topic for another time.
Because of her trip, I took a little time off of work so I could play Mr. Mom. I know two days cannot compare to taking over the job full time. I just know I would rock the socks off the whole single Dad thing.
Not that I want to find out or anything.
Book Review: I’ll Never Be French
Book Review: Soccer Dad
Worst Week
I hate this week. I should really love it because you can sense the beginning of summer, and Memorial Day gives us a four-day work week. But an awful stench lingers in the air for me.
The television season has come to a close.
I will get over this feeling soon when I start to embrace the freedom to read on the porch past 8 p.m. without running inside to catch one of my favorite shows or, at the very least, popping in to make sure it has started to record.
Pushing the Fashion Envelope
When I first saw the shoes, I knew I needed to have them, even for a joke. You never know what you will find when the Clark’s store has its warehouse sale. I hit the jackpot this time.

Since I have small feet, the semiannual event can really help me out. I can find a good selection at a really good price. I went in this spring with a few things in mind, but never expected to see this pair of shoes, much less walk out with a pair all of my own.
You see, I don’t have the greatest fashion sense. I have probably covered this in the past, but I’m pretty basic when it comes to clothes. I don’t do “outfits” and stick with a few basic color combinations so that I don’t embarrass myself.
If I don’t go out on a limb, I won’t look like a fool. I can still pull off a pair of madras shorts (or at least I think I can), but I have enough sense now to make sure I own a plain shirt in a coordinating color. When in doubt, I just let my wife decide.
That’s why I worried she would put the kibosh on these shoes. Never in a million years did I think that Maria would encourage me to buy a pair of white suede bucks. But she did, so I decided to get them.