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Daddy Wars

As a working father, I feel constant conflict between my duties at the office and my strong, instinctive desire to be at home, watching sports on TV. Or doing other guy stuff, like playing with power tools, or napping, or thinking about the upcoming NFL draft, or wandering off to see if any of my friends want to smoke cigars. And the tension of these dual roles -- breadwinner and loafer -- isn't relieved by the knowledge that all working fathers are similarly expected to be superdads.

Look at our "to do" list:

1. Hold paying job.

2. Take car to shop if it makes strange noises.

3. Mastermind lawn maintenance strategy.

4. Handle any crisis involving beer, wine, chips, dip.

5. Be prepared to discuss, on Monday morning, previous night's episode of "The Sopranos."

And it's not women who insist that we meet these impossible standards. It's other men. They make little comments that sound friendly enough, but that contain a subtle dig. They just love to make a guy feel guilty for failing to spend enough time with his tools, his sporting goods and all the other things that fall under the rubric of "gear."

The other day my "friend" Don, who is always trying to lord his own perfectly balanced work/loafing life over everyone else, said, "How's your golf game?" -- which I knew was his way of saying, "When was the last time you had the gonads to tell your wife you were going to play 36 holes?" Don is a man who would gladly golf with his buddies on his 25th wedding anniversary. He's what you might call a Neanderthal's Neanderthal.

So anyway, I made some excuse about hurting my shoulder (or more precisely, my "rotator cuff," which sounds more masculine), but that night I raced home and went straight to the golf bag in the basement. I spent some quality time with the clubs in the back yard. You tell yourself that these are the moments your clubs will cherish forever -- but you know there will come a day of reckoning, of countless bogeys, when you'll collapse with guilt at the thought of those workdays when you could have been, at minimum, practicing your putting.

My boss, a working mom, is wonderfully sympathetic, and many times when I'm working late, she'll say, "Why don't you knock off and go to the driving range." When I get home later that evening I'll announce that Daddy needs some "me time" to sit in his chair and read his favorite magazines. Once in a while one of my daughters will ask for help with homework, and I'll spend a minute jotting down all the correct answers before sending her off to the kitchen to get ice cream for us both. It's rewarding being a father!

Sometimes a bunch of the guys will meet for lunch to share our working-Dad sob stories. We'll pick a manfood place with dark wood paneling, cushioned booths, a martini menu, 48-ounce steaks and baked potatoes the size of dachshunds. There's a kind of script that we all subconsciously follow. There's the usual polite small talk -- "How's the work going?" and, "I see your Dodgers are in second place" and, "Did you see that special Home Depot has on roto-tillers?" At some point someone will launch into a major squawk about what a terrible time he's had trying to find a trustworthy car mechanic. That leads invariably to Don saying -- as though this is an original remark! -- "Don't even get me started on how hard it is to hire a caddy."

Usually one person at lunch will have a little too much to drink, and will insist that we talk about the Best Stripper Names. Informally we've agreed that the correct answer is "Bazoombarella."

The other day after one of these lunches, a major social disaster took place. We were paid up, saying our goodbyes on the sidewalk, and Don, the biggest idiot ever, said to our friend Bill, "Wife and kids okay?" Like, we were home free, you know? Game clock had hit zero already. And Bill said, "We split, actually." So we're all sort of stuck there like flies on a Shell No-Pest Strip, unable to move, because what do you say in a situation like that? I did the decent thing. "That's too bad, Bill," I said. "I always liked Betty."

"Debbie," he said.

Thank God, he didn't linger. That night when I got home I headed straight for the favorite chair to dig into the sports section. I spent extra time on the agate listings -- on-base averages, slugging percentages, strikeouts as a ratio to bases on balls. The little details.

Because if you start taking stuff for granted, one day you'll wake up and you won't even know who's in first.

[This is my column in the Sunday magazine. I hope everyone has a great Easter/Passover weekend and that the Easter Bunny leaves you lots of eggs that are readily discovered and won't turn up two months from now.]

By Joel Achenbach  |  April 15, 2006; 11:11 AM ET
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Next: Those Competitive Easter Egg Hunts


A dream, a beautiful dream, capturing the very essence of 'this is life, everything else is a lie...' Does your wife know that you wrote this? Gosh, you've got guts! The existence of this kit is far more serious than uttering the wish to play 36 holes...

Posted by: RedFlash | April 15, 2006 12:00 PM | Report abuse

First one today?! Probably because I'm stupid enough to do some work.

Posted by: RedFlash | April 15, 2006 12:02 PM | Report abuse

I'm early I see. It's a good day. My daughter and my grandchildren are here, and they're off to Wal-Mart, and who knows where else. I was so happy to see them. I've been out myself, just getting back. And it is soooooooooo hot here, already in the high 80's, and we're probably be in the 90's before the day is over. And my air conditioning doesn't work. Hope everyone is enjoying their day off, a Happy Easter to you all. Joel, I don't know, if your wife reads that piece, think maybe she might be upset? Hope not, your weekend would not be good.

Posted by: Cassandra S | April 15, 2006 1:42 PM | Report abuse

Men are so cruel. I wonder what would happen if somebody had the gonads to say...

"Naw, I spent the weekend making Neanderthal doilies with my 6 year old daughter. Good memories."

Posted by: Wilbrod | April 15, 2006 2:17 PM | Report abuse

Achenbach! Tim Ahern passed along the news you wrote a list of the top 101 screenplays. Well, lately I've been trying out my love for comedy, and more especially, the occassional dark comedy. Have you checked out Uncle Buck, the John Candy movie lately? Absolutely a riot, well-written, too. Small updates probably don't belong in a public blog forum but hopefully we can catch up soon. My cell number is the same one as before, Maybe you can get it from Tim.

Best wishes,

Posted by: Kalle Thompson | April 15, 2006 2:17 PM | Report abuse

I assume you mean a differnet Tim. I don't think I've ever heard of you.

Posted by: ScienceTim | April 15, 2006 2:47 PM | Report abuse

Re: Loomis-- I'm not too surprised the Navajo languages have relatives in the Pacific Northwest. Same side of the US, you know.

The Na-Dene family:
Tlingit, Haida (pacific NW-- Washington, Oregon)

Both Tlingit and Haida have worthwhile mythologies to look into. They're the one who made Trickster Raven and totem poles IT in the Pacific NW.

Athabaskan subfamily of Na-Dene-- 30 languages in Alaska, Canada, and the languages of Navajo, Apache (Arizona).

Athabaskan Indians are not exactly the same as Eskimo, though. They're found in Eastern Alaska and western canada. They presumably spread north from the Pacific NW.

I always considered Ed Chigliak on Northern Exposure to be supposed to be Athabaskan Indian. (I don't remember if this was said.).

Interestingly, Darren Burrows is an Apache (and a blond one too... he had to dye his hair for the role.)

Marilyn (The half-Eskimo secretary) was played by Elaine Lane, an Cayuse-Nez Perce Indian from Oregon.

Northern exposure... what a good TV show. Very interesting characters and radio DJ dialog as well.

The Aleuts (Eskimos) have linguistic connections to Siberia and Greenland. All lands are closer together inside the Artic circle. Kind of like a frozen Mediterranean, only not.
I've never been either place, but I imagine the Punic wars weren't fought among walrus.

Posted by: Wilbrod | April 15, 2006 2:52 PM | Report abuse

I seem to recall that Ed Chigliak is Tlingit. I may be wrong, of course.

My big manly duties of the day: coaching the kids through writing essays to get into smart-kids camps, and getting the taxes out. And preparing lunch. And cleaning up after lunch. And now I need to go sort some laundry, then I need to mow the grass. I am totally falling down on my sports-watching responsibilities, and I don't even own any golf clubs. I am so ashamed.

Posted by: StorytellerTim | April 15, 2006 3:37 PM | Report abuse

Who knew?

Atheists meeting in S.A. while others observe Easter
Web Posted: 04/15/2006 12:00 AM CDT
Amy Dorsett, Express-News Staff Writer

Who would believe? On this Easter weekend, a group of atheists are meeting at a downtown hotel to develop fellowship and discuss goals.

The 32nd National Convention of American Atheists kicked off Friday morning and continues through Sunday.

The meeting, which has drawn about 300 from across the country, always occurs over Easter weekend, usually because of economics.

"We get the best rates on Easter weekend," said Ken Middleton, an atheist from Florida. "No one else has conferences then, so we can negotiate the best hotel rates."

But there's another practical reason why the weekend event is scheduled over Easter, considered the most sacred of Christian holidays.

"What else are atheists doing on Easter weekend?" asked Ellen Johnson, president of the American Atheists, the oldest atheist organization in the country.

Indeed, in a newsletter sent to members, the association's leadership encouraged folks to come to San Antonio early and take a mini-vacation because "it's a lot more fun, and more mentally stimulating than dreary religious holidays like Good Friday, isn't it?"

Johnson said her group has about 2,300 members and noted about 1 million Americans identify themselves as atheists, while another 52 million are not affiliated with any religion.

(Use link for rest of article)

Posted by: Loomis | April 15, 2006 3:50 PM | Report abuse

I love Haida art. Here are a couple of links that show and explain about it:

I believe Elaine Miles played Marilyn in Northern Exposure. The biography on Darren Burrows' website says he is only 1/8 Native American and was born in Kansas. On the show, he was supposed to be half Native Alaskan...

Still thinking about Slats and his wounded son-in-law. Hope he, his son-in-law, and his daughter are doing ok.

As for the Easter weekend weather report from the Pacific Northwest - cold and rainy, snow in the mountains. I think global warming is a myth.

Posted by: mostlylurking | April 15, 2006 4:01 PM | Report abuse

What's with all this discrimination against Neanderthals?!? I'm offended, on behalf of the Neanderthal Equality and Recognition Defense Society.

We prefer to be known by our acronym.

Posted by: Dooley | April 15, 2006 4:42 PM | Report abuse

I've managed to eliminate a couple of the to-do's from my list. You can eliminate the lawn maintenance by switching to desert landscaping. Rock just hates to be mowed. I also figure that there are never any crises involving beer, only opportunities. Eliminating some of the chores gives me plenty of time to pretend I'm a golfer (don't tell anybody, but I just go there for the beer - another opportunity!).

Posted by: grimmace | April 15, 2006 5:24 PM | Report abuse

Hey guys! Just want to let you all know that I have the same cell phone number as before, too, but I don't think anyone named Tim knows it.

Have a great weekend!

Posted by: TBG | April 15, 2006 5:25 PM | Report abuse

I like these two items courtesy of Garrison Keillor. One is a poem made from headlines courtesy of today's Writer's Almanac and the second is a letter about intemperate Internet behavior from the Prairie Home Companion Web site:

From the Writer's Almanac 4/15/2006:

Poem: "Headlines" by Robert Phillips from Circumstances Beyond Our Control: Poems. © The Johns Hopkins University Press. Reprinted with permission. (buy now)


War Dims Hope for Peace.
Plane Too Close to Ground, Crash Probe Told.
Clinton Wins Budget; More Lies Ahead.

Miners Refuse to Work after Death.
Include Your Children When Baking Cookies.
War Dims Hope for Peace.

Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash, Experts Say
Prostitutes Appeal to Pope.
Clinton Wins Budget; More Lies Ahead.

Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half.
Couple Slain; Police Suspect Homicide.
&War Dims Hope for Peace.

Stolen Painting Found by Tree.
Panda Mating Fails; Veterinarian Takes Over.
&Clinton Wins Budget; More Lies Ahead.

Iraqi Head Seeks Arms.
Police Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers.
War Dims Hope for Peace.
Clinton Wins Budget; More Lies Ahead

And from the Prairie Home Companion Web site is this letter to and response from Keillor. I like his answer a lot:

Cognative Dissonance

Mr. Keillor,
Enjoy your show, mostly, for the small-town ambience and the clean humor, as well some great music hard to find elsewhere. Reading some of your writings here, however, I notice references to reading the New Yorker and writing for New York Review of Books. I also seem to recall your living in New York at one time. Maybe I'm just slow, but the 2 worlds of New York and small-town Minnesota seem to have precious little overlap, other than a common fondness for the Democratic ticket. Do you experience some sort of cognitive dissonance or something, see-sawing between New York and, say, Anoka?

Steve S.
New Braunfels, TX

Nope. In my limited experience, New York is a city of interconnected villages, and I mostly spend time around 90th and Broadway. I walk to the dry cleaner's on 88th, shop at the grocery on 89th, go to the bookstore at 93rd, go to church at 99th, catch the subway at 96th. My daughter likes to play in Riverside park, around 91st. On a warm day I like to sit at the Firemen's Memorial on 100th. It's a small world and one keeps running into acquaintances. No freeways, no enormous mall, just little shops like Murray's delicatessen and H&H Bagels and Altman's hardware. There's a newsstand on Broadway and you can walk down there late and pick up the Times and the Daily News. That's living, in my book. And it's closer to the Anoka I remember than, say, the suburbs of today are. Much closer.

Posted by: pj | April 15, 2006 6:43 PM | Report abuse

pj, thanks!

That's why I love New York City. I think he's absolutely right. People think I'm crazy but I've told my son I'd rather he go to NYC with a friend for a few days after HS graduation than to the beach. I think he's safer in NYC. He absolutely loves it there and feels very comfortable there, but he also has a natural cautiousness that the city demands; he's less likely to meet up with someone in NYC who can talk him into some craziness than he might on the boardwalk in Ocean City, Md.

Posted by: TBG | April 15, 2006 8:22 PM | Report abuse

I don’t mean to lord this over anyone but I have the world’s greatest excuse for watching sports on TV as well as in person. I co-host a sports radio show in the Midwest. In addition to getting paid for watching Notre Dame football games, part of my responsibility entails staying current on any sport that one of our callers may have a question or comment about. That’s right...It is my duty to watch as much televised sports as possible. Thank God for SportsCenter so I can occasionally get in a round of golf and still catch the Reader’s Digest version of whatever I may have missed. Does my wife understand? Not really, but it bought me some extra time during the back nine at The Masters last week.

Posted by: RSC | April 15, 2006 8:34 PM | Report abuse

I've been lurking about the past few days, as we've been on spring break and have been collectively busier than a one armed paper hanger. Joel, (or for that matter anyone) have a laugh on me and join in on a round of eighteen. I'll wager anyone a six pack of their favourite cool beverage that I can't lose a dozen golf balls by the ninth hole. My late mother had taken up golf in the couple of years prior to her passing and constantly implored me to join her; she became rather accomplished by this time and had won a couple of trophies. Being the middle child and peacemaker, I dutifully acquiesed and joined her at Drumlins golf course. Mind you this is a place that doubled as a ski area provided there was enough snow. The ninth hole teed off on the steepest part of the ski hill, par three, requiring a player to walk a sinuous footpath to the green out of the fall line. Never made it to the ninth hole, as I told Mom that I'd surely hit the cart house off the first tee, approximately sixty degrees offset from the tee. Mom and my accomplished golfing brother agreed this was nonsense. "Just hit it", they said. Driver in hand, I did my best Gary Player and promptly heard the unmistakable clank of the Titleist 90 off the side of the cart house. The driver went sailing one way, and I, the other. I haven't shot the links for thirty years, and can't for the life of me explain how that ball hit the cart house, except to speculate that the driver struck the ball on the teeniest tip of the club. Geek of that week.

Posted by: jack | April 16, 2006 12:35 AM | Report abuse

If you want to save time on lawn maintenance, I suggest you buy a riding lawn mower. Last year me and the kids chipped in and got one. It made a great Mother's Day gift for my wife and she absolutely loves it. She got a great tan yesterday to boot.

Posted by: Pat | April 16, 2006 7:07 AM | Report abuse

Yay, Pat, good one there! My hubby had to buy a replacement lawnmower this year...the old one was completely worn out. No riding mower for this half-acre lot, but certainly self-propelled! Grass is a high art in our neighborhood, and I must commend my husband. His looks like velvet in the springtime.

Posted by: Slyness | April 16, 2006 8:59 AM | Report abuse

The main competition we daddies have at work involves computers. Many of the fathers, purely to facilitate the education of their children, have installed distributed systems normally associated with the development of thermonuclear fusion. I fall badly behind the curve. Until recently I had but a single desktop hooked up to the Internet, as well as an older computer kept around just so that I could play games from the previous century. My coworkers were appalled. Where were the dual-core multiphase hyper-ergonomic video cards? Or the tomographicaly-inspired sound-systems capable of inducing minor aural bleeding? Out of shame I recently installed a wireless network. But it only supports 64-bit encryption.
Clearly I don’t love my children enough

Posted by: RD Padouk | April 16, 2006 9:37 AM | Report abuse

Ah,existential musings on Easter Sunday morning.Thank you Joel,I feel you brother.

Posted by: ILL-logical | April 16, 2006 10:42 AM | Report abuse

Day two of my sojourn to Pennsylvania Dutch country. After nearly two decades it is a still a strange place to me. So many things cooked in lard. Potato chips everywhere. Chewy beef products containing beef lips. Deserts that through some strange alchemy are actually sweeter than pure sugar. Eggs colored by beets. Yet this is where my wife comes from. It is the home of my in-laws. In-laws who are kind and wonderful people who spoil my children like buttermilk left in the sun. Perhaps I am still a stranger in this strange land, but I visit often. I’m a daddy. It’s part of my job.

Posted by: RD Padouk | April 16, 2006 1:04 PM | Report abuse

desserts. Although deserts made of sugar sound fun too.

Posted by: RD Padouk | April 16, 2006 1:05 PM | Report abuse

I've spent all day dreaming about that sugar desert. Tall dunes of sugar and an oasis of Splenda™.

Posted by: TBG | April 16, 2006 5:30 PM | Report abuse

Big day in the G home: the Easter Bunny didn't come last night--and no one noticed.

It reminds me of the first Christmas we didn't visit Toys R Us.

Posted by: TBG | April 16, 2006 5:31 PM | Report abuse

Yeah, TBG, the kids didn't come home here either. I thought about sending baskets to them but decided that I didn't have the time to put them together and get them shipped. No complaints yet, so I guess it's okay with them. Life goes on.

Posted by: Slyness | April 16, 2006 6:24 PM | Report abuse

Yasou TBG! Yeah, the sugar deserts do have a nice appeal to them. Especially today. Although I thought you did Easter next week? Or do you go with the western date for the Bunny?

Posted by: RD Padouk | April 16, 2006 6:35 PM | Report abuse

RD, the Easter Bunny doesn't make a special trip to America for Greek Easter. He used to come to the G home and hide plastic eggs filled with candy (as well as baskets with candy and little toys).

The best year was the one when we were on vacation and I had my sister come and hide the eggs. Because I didn't know where they were it was so much more fun! We were still finding them in June and July. (Remember, I said plastic eggs.)

Posted by: TBG | April 16, 2006 7:15 PM | Report abuse

Of course, I'd hate to see the size of the ants that live in the sugar desert.

Posted by: TBG | April 16, 2006 7:16 PM | Report abuse

TBG, those plastic eggs are fun. Unfortunately every year we seem to purchase more and never get rid of the old ones. Either that or they are reproducing in the basement and planning world domination. Of course, like your offspring, mine are no longer into Easter Egg hunts. They are also no longer interested in coloring eggs. This is a shame. Because neither one of these things is nearly as much fun when you do them by yourself.

Posted by: RD Padouk | April 16, 2006 7:28 PM | Report abuse

'Course the best part of Easter is still when I let the two bunnies out of their cage downstairs and dance around with them to Bach's "Minuet in G Major."

Wow, this sugar buzz is fun but comin' down's gonna be harsh.

Posted by: RD Padouk | April 16, 2006 7:35 PM | Report abuse

So there I was, hiding Easter eggs, the party was at my house again, family tradition for the last decade. Ten kids under 9, what a blessing. It gave me the opportunity to visit the shed. So I was looking for a few good cubby holes when I happen to notice the weed-eater. It reminded me that I hadn't whacked anything for at least a week. Hmm, possibly a side effect for all the kids on spring break. Then I noticed the power drill and the electric screwdriver, and that reminded me that I hadn't drilled or screwed anything for quite some time. I have to tell you ladies and gentlemen, there's nothing like the power tool that stands up for itself when it knows when it has been neglected!

Posted by: Pat | April 16, 2006 8:15 PM | Report abuse

Oh... coloring eggs is still a fun family activity.

That's because we have a huge family gathering on Greek Easter with roasted lamb, potatoes, various other veggies, Greek salad, Easter bread (with a red egg in the middle), traditional Greek Easter soup and of course the Great Easter Egg Contest.

We each tap our egg end-to-end with the person sitting next to us. The person with the uncracked egg continues on in the competition (fat end against fat end and pointy end against pointy end).

THEN... fat end winner against pointy end winner until we have an Easter Egg Champion.

When we dye the eggs, we put family names on them so there's no picking and choosing when you get to the table. Of course, we always love to draw "cracks" on the eggs and someone often tries to bring a marble ringer to the table.

I tell you, this family takes their egg cracking seriously! This year we'll be at my sister's house and we'll have all 3 of my sisters, me, all 4 of our husbands, all 8 of our kids, my dad, one son-in-law, one girlfriend and I think a couple of my sister's neighbors.

Let the games begin!

Posted by: TBG | April 16, 2006 8:21 PM | Report abuse

I like the Rip van Winkle reference at the end, Joel.

I'll admit that I've been combining Dad-to-do's (or DadDoo's as I refer to them) the get-togethers, in the interest of time.

Hanging out with some friends while we do car maintenance or repair makes things easier and a lot more fun. I will add a word of caution that any mixing floor jacks, air tools, torches and alcohol should be best left to professionals Dads. Dads who have no idea where their safety glasses are.


Posted by: bc | April 16, 2006 9:01 PM | Report abuse

I live in a small truly rural area two hours west of Seattle - quite nearly on the Pacific. For all our smallness and meeting each other on the street, this is more a true Community than I've been in for a long time. May I come back to visit?

Our Easter was one of those that passed unnoticed by one and all, except for the grandkids who have called from across the West to let us know of their visits from the Pink Bunny. Actually, that makes it noticeable, doesn't it?

Posted by: MarchDancer | April 16, 2006 9:08 PM | Report abuse

MarchDancer, welcome to the Boodle! We hope you'll not just visit, but that you'll stay. We all kind of like it here.

Posted by: TBG | April 16, 2006 9:30 PM | Report abuse

MarchDancer - Welcome! I was raised in Puyallup, although I have been on the East coast for nearly 20 years now. Sounds like you are in the rainforest. Beautiful area, even though, as I recall, nobody could ever get the kids to use umbrellas.

Posted by: RD Padouk | April 16, 2006 9:43 PM | Report abuse

First SCC of the week for me, woo hoo!

Second sentence of my 9:01 PM post to read as follows:

"I'll admit that I've been combining Dad-to-do's (or DadDoo's as I refer to them) with manly the get-togethers, in the interest of time."


Posted by: bc | April 16, 2006 9:53 PM | Report abuse

We had a multi-culti Sunday. I started the day by inventing Kosher-for-Passover pancakes (matzoh meal + sugar + milk + safflower oil, folded with fluffy beaten egg-whites -- they're low in cholesterol, too!). Then we went to Grandma's house, where we dyed eggs while the neighbors were out searching for theirs. Then the kids and I hid inside while Grandma went to hide the plastic eggs, after which the kids held a competition, not sanctioned by adults, in which they found 11 of the 12 eggs hidden in the yard. After some time, we located number 12. Meanwhile, the spouse worked on repairing Grandma's speakers. Then we went to a Chinese restaurant for Easter dinner, where we had a sushi appetizer.

Posted by: Tim | April 16, 2006 10:40 PM | Report abuse

MarchDancer, nice to have you! I live in Seattle now, but grew up in western PA and spent about 10 years in the DC area - hence my love of the Washington Post. This is an interesting place, to say the least!

Quiet Easter here - pulled some weeds this afternoon when it warmed up to 50 degrees. Are we sure that when global warming happens, it will happen everywhere, or is the Pacific Northwest going to be the exception?!? Last year I got my 23 year old son an Easter basket from a wonderful Swiss chocolate shop. Now that he's moved away, all I bought were some Cadbury creme eggs for me. Kind of sad...

Posted by: mostlylurking | April 17, 2006 12:29 AM | Report abuse

i like the "unreliable narrator" quality of the kit, but i'm curious as to what degree it was intentionally or intuitively done. or maybe it was a self-ironizing accident?

Posted by: L.A. lurker | April 17, 2006 12:43 AM | Report abuse

LA lurker, I personally hold the position that all Observers are Universally Unreliable.

I would add my belief that every word in Joel's Kitted column is intentional.


Posted by: bc | April 17, 2006 8:08 AM | Report abuse

Golf is like heroin. I dare not try it out of fear I may like it. I cannot afford such a drastic change in my lifestyle, finances, or priorities. I have seen how it has destroyed too many people I know.

Posted by: yellojkt | April 17, 2006 8:15 AM | Report abuse

My Easter was spent in New York. We had brunch at La Lupa, which included fantastic leg of lamb. Then the wife and I caught 'Three Days of Rain' starring Julia Roberts. I'm hoping to tour the UN before we leave today.

Posted by: yellojkt | April 17, 2006 8:22 AM | Report abuse

New Kit, folks.

BTW, I've been playing golf a couple of times a year for something like 25 years.

It hasn't sunk it's fangs deep enough into me to become an addiction. It is fun though.

I had lamb for Easter dinner too. Pass the mint jelly!


Posted by: bc | April 17, 2006 9:41 AM | Report abuse

Mint jelly! My oldest sister's husband brought mint jelly to the Easter table his first year in the family. I thought it would be his last.

You do not put mint jelly on Greek lamb.

Posted by: TBG | April 17, 2006 9:58 AM | Report abuse

T, I didn't have an opportunity to ask the leg its' country of origin.


Posted by: bc | April 17, 2006 10:17 AM | Report abuse

Wacky wabbit day here in Alaska the state that time forgot:
thaw frozen pipes
check frozen septic tank
hike to frozen lake
eat bbq with fellow trailer-park residents, freezing while huddling around a pallet-fed bonfire
call friend living even further north (yes it is possible) to commiserate over cost of fuel/food/living here in the freezer of the USA
keep in touch with the rest of humanity via satellite internet, and
thank my lucky stars I live here and NOT outside!

Posted by: farnorth | April 17, 2006 6:29 PM | Report abuse


Posted by: Anonymous | May 2, 2006 4:30 PM | Report abuse


Posted by: x-man | May 2, 2006 4:31 PM | Report abuse

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