Turning Back Time

Hollywood dad a question that needs answering.

Why does everyone get so amped up over an extra hour of sleep - ON A SUNDAY?

What's the benefit there? Waiting an EXTRA hour 'til football starts?

Newsflash.... That sucks.

There's no need to waste an extra hour of sleep on a Sunday. We can already sleep all we want on Sundays. That's what Sunday are for.

Getting an extra hour of sleep on a Sunday is about as necessary as sentencing a murderer to more than one life sentence.

Translatiion: completely unnecessary and just a little misleading. Does that mean there is life after death? Hmmmm......

You wanna make me and MILLIONS of Americans happy, then switch the clocks back at 3:00 AM Monday morning!
Now that extra hour of sleep benefits everyone and not just the losers who have shitty jobs that require them to work on Sundays.

Let's start a grassroots campaign people. Are ya with me?

Switch the clocks back on Mondays and put that extra hour of sleep to good use.

There's no need to waste a solid hour of bonus sleep on a Sunday.

Sleeping in on Sunday's has never posed a problem for anyone - unless you're a loser.

Times Are Tough... Save Some $$$

I don't know if you've noticed, but everywhere you go Halloween candy is 75% off this weekend.

I went to Target and bought like nine bags to give out to trick-or-treaters NEXT Halloween.

Sure, most of the neighborhood kids will probably get sick, but it's not like anyone will be able to tell exactly which house gave out the rancid Kit Kats.

Serves the little bastards right for stealing my pumpkins last night.

Ugly Babies Come From Ugly Parents...

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Posh and Becks go Pumpkin Picking

So my big meeting yesterday went down the tubes... Story of my life.

Anyway, feeling slightly depressed I decided to take the boys to the ginormous Pumpkin Patch in Woodland Hills. (They've got hayrides, a corn maze, a haunted house, merry-go-round, moon bouncers, train rides, bumper boats and more)

How could all that not cheer a guy up after hearing "pitch meeting rejection" for the umpteenth time?

So we're in the area with all the pumpkins... And we notice a somewhat attractive woman who may or may not be Posh Spice.

Two seconds later, we hear the voice and CONFIRMED, it's her... (big points to my wife for spotting her)

Wow, stars really are just like us... They go pumpkin picking! Who knew?

As an aside, here I am praying my son doesn't want a $20 pumpkin and she's loading 2 carts full of them... I guess they're overpriced for me and you, but not for someone who's husband signed a $250 million contract to play soccer. (Seriously, $250 million in the bank or not, 20 bucks for a giant orange gourd is redonkulous)

Back to the story...

Where's Becks? Where's Becks I ask my wife like a school girl looking for the Jonas Brothers?

Boom! There he is.... Ooh dreamy.

Now, I'm doing whatever I can to take pictures of my kids while also getting the uber-power couple in the shots as well. (It's the few weeks of TMZ in me)

A task made more difficult due to the FOUR security guards surrounding them and talking into headsets... A bit intimidating to say the least.

Got a few photos and then it was time to move on before security kicked my ass. Though in retrospect, getting beat up by their posse may have actually helped my career.

We then made our way to the train ride.... And who ended up there, but Becks himself.

Not knowing where to buy ride tickets, I repeatedly asked the 16 year-old dim bulb running the ride, but he never answered.

Seeing my frustration, good ole Becks turned to me and said, "Here, take our tickets... We're calling it a day now... Have a good time with your boy."

"Are you sure," I asked, as if a man worth half a billion dollars couldn't spare the 20 bucks worth of tickets he handed me.

"No problem, mate, we're paying for our pumpkins and heading home." (at least I think he called me mate... I kinda got lost for a second in his dreamy eyes - I'm not saying I'm gay, but if I was it's safe to say Becks is totally my type)

At this point, Posh was gone. Becks and his security team rolled their pumpkins to the register and moments later he was off to the black SUV with Posh sitting in the passenger seat - Leaving his security team behind to pay for the two giant wagons full of pumpkins.

That was the part my wife loved most. Asking me, "Do you realize how cool it would be to go shopping and then leave someone behind to wait on line and pay for everything while you dash home?"

So now I really have to sell a show so my wife can have a personal shopper.

Crap... Anyone know some TV producers that wanna buy some game shows? They're good!

BTW, if you liked this or any other post on the Hollywood Dad blog, please leave a comment here. Comments are WAY BETTER than emails. Thanks in advance.

And hello to all my European friends who seem to be finding this blog by "Googling" my new friend Becks.

"And where did they find that little boy's head?"

A while back, I was grocery shopping at Ralph's. Nothing special, minding my own business.



As I turned into the aisle with chips and soda I saw a small boy of no more than 5 jumping excitedly and then, all of a sudden, he bolted to the end of the row towards the perimeter dairy refrigerators in back.



Immediately I heard the boy's Latino mom yelling at Miguel to, "Get Back Here! Miguel... Get Back Here, PRONTO!" 



Sheepishly the boy returned, and you'd think that most sane parents would end it there.... But this woman was clearly nuts so scolding did not cease.



"What did I tell you happened to that little boy who ran from his mother at the grocery store last week," she asked in a very abbreviated cadence and raised voice.



The little boy looked down, tail between his legs, and replied, "The crazy man took him."



Wow, talk about setting the kid up for nightmares, but this comedy of horrors didn't end there.

Mommy dearest continued on, "And where did they find that little boy's head?"



The boy began to quiver... And you could hear his nerves take over as he answered ever so feintly, "In the river."



THE BEAUTIFUL LA RIVER IN ALL HER GLORY

Sensing that she'd won, mommy went for one final blow, "Do want me and daddy to find your head in the river? Is that what you want for some crazy man to steal you and chop off your head and throw it in the river? Is that what you want? (Beat) Is it! (Beat) Well, is it!!!"



Tears began to well up in the boys face as he simultaneously sniffled and murmered, "No". 



Even now, many weeks later, I can't help thinking about Miguel and how horrible that example was.

Then again it also show me you can get kids to do anything if you put a little scare into them...

"Oh, you don't want to do your homework... You know orphanages for kids who don't want to do their homework... so hit the books kiddo."



My "Curb Your Enthusiasm" Daddy Moment

If you need further proof that I'm a wuss and my wife is the tough one in this marriage of mine, read on.

First we have to go back about ten days ago. I told Michelle (the tough chick I wed) that she could get some rest as I'd take the baby on a walk. But when I went outside to retrieve the stroller, it was no where to be found. It was usually on our front porch, but not this time.

Was it in the car? No. The garage? Again nope. Not in the backyard either.

Like Red Sox fans in New York, the $200 stroller that I bought for my first son and was now using for baby #2 was no where to be found.

And not just any stroller. A "JEEP" brand jogging stroller that had an iPod hook-up. The kind of stroller that handled the hills of Runyon Canyon and the sand of Hermosa Beach just as well as it maneuvered on Melrose Ave... And did I mention it cranked out the Bon Jovi all the while.

Here's the stroller on Hermosa Beach circa 2006

What kind of douche-bag would steal a baby stroller, I wondered?

I mean, I could almost understand ripping off an ugly baby, but not one as cute as this guy - That takes a serious case of a*holery. No?

Baby #2, The cutest guy I know resting in his JEEP jogging stroller just days before its disappearance.

A week went by and I just couldn't get it out of my head... Who would screw over a baby?

Last Thursday night, I finally got the answer.... My neighbors down the street, that's who.

Trying not to wake the kids at 9:30 PM, I paused the DVR (was watching House) and took a phone call outside. As I chatted on the driveway, this woman who lives three houses down strolled on by with her kid in MY stroller. I know this because in the year of living her in the Valley, I've NEVER seen this woman walk her kids in a stroller and now all of a sudden she's doing so in the EXACT make and model that I'm missing? No F-in' Way!

Being the puss that I am, I tell my wife rather than do anything about it myself.

Truth be told, I'm so no confrontational, I told her we should just write it off and move on. I mean it's not like someone who steals something is gonna admit it... Who's with me on that?

Regardless of what I (the spineless blob) thought, my wife awoke the very next morning and immediately rushed over - Getting in the woman's face.

The woman, of course, speaks NO ENGLISH, but luckily her Dish Network is on-the-fritz and the tech there fixin' it is bi-lingual (side note: My DirecTV has never been out).

Between my wife's yelling and the Dish Network tech's disapproval, the woman was ultimately shamed into retrieving the stroller and handing it back over.

She tried to tell the Dish tech that she "found" it down the street, but my wife wasn't buying that load of crap.

Fast forward to this afternoon...

For some reason, I almost feel like WE did something wrong. It's weird feeling guilty about something you're 100% in the right about, but I've got this amazing sense of wrong doing. It makes NO SENSE whatsoever, I know.

I guess it's Long Island-raised "Jewish guilt" thing. Even though I'm not Jewish, sometimes I kinda feel like I am.

(insert your own semi-humorous religious analogy here)

So for the record, I'm a pussy, my wife's a warrior, and this continues to be a very Curb Your Enthusiasm-esque situation.

$4.50 a gallon is killing this dad

Alternative fuels? I'm all for 'em.

Corn... Hydrogen... Hell if you could get my Saab to run on endangered whale blubber, I'd have to seriously consider the retro-fit.



Why? Because my 2 and a half year-old son will ONLY fall asleep in his car seat - And ONLY if the car is moving.

So now I have a decision to make, do I put up with a tantrum EVERY time he's exhausted and won't nap on his own OR do we pop him in the car and drive around burning through $85 tanks of fuel like Sherman through Atlanta.

ANSWER: $4.50 a gallon is killing me.

But at least for that money I can get some peace and quiet for upwards of 90 minutes a day.

Who in the hell goes to the playground at 7:00 AM ???

When my wife and I moved to West Hollywood several lifetimes ago (actually 7 years), we lived on Martel Ave, two blocks North of Melrose and two blocks South of Santa Monica Blvd - Right near Fat Burger.

Great location, great building, and even a famous person or two (Sasha Mitchell of TV's Step by Step lived right below us on the 2nd floor)

Goofy cousin Cody was in unit 209

And outside our 3rd floor balcony was Poinsettia Park with its ball fields, tennis courts, and its playground. It was perfect - Or so we thought.

The very first weekend in our new home, we were awoken just past 7:00 AM to the shrieks of six year-old girls, the shouting of seven year-old boys and the crying of 20+ toddlers - It was awful.

"Who the hell goes to the playground at 7:00 AM," I asked my new bride. "What's the matter with these people? Don't they know this is a Saturday and some people (namely me and probably TV's Sasha Mitchell) need to get some sleep?"

For years this bugged me - Both the actual noise and the question of why in the world ANYONE would go to a playground that early.

Fast forward to this morning. My 2 1/2 year-old son wakes up at 5 AM. And of course if he's up, I'm up. We watch Sesame Street, we play with blocks, and we eat breakfast. Now it's 6:45 and I have NO FREAKIN' IDEA what to do...

Aaah!!!!! There's always the plaground! So I get him out of his pajamas, throw him in the car (proverbially, of course) and head over to the new Shane's Inspiration playground at Lake Balboa.

Upon arrival, I see at least 2 dozen other zombified parents, half-heartedly chasing their kids around. Forget churros, frozen mangos and inflatable animals - Somebody should start selling coffees and Diet Cokes beside the swingset - He'd make a killing.

So, the back to my initial question. The answer is: ME.

I, and other frustrated parents who are at their wits end with their early rising spawn, take their kids to the playground at 7:00 AM.

Needless to say the little punk fell asleep in the car on the way home and is now resting peacefully.

Me??? I'm exhausted, yet simultaneously jacked up a 64 ounce, Super Big Gulp, Diet Coke.

This is the playround - Minus exhausted parents and annoying kids.

"It's broken" may be the greatest lie you can tell a toddler

My son wants to play with the garden hose, but I don't want him to get wet as we're getting ready for dinner. "It's broken," I tell him.

He wants me to push him around the block in his red car, but the Laker's game is on... "Your car's broken," I insist - Adding, "We'll get it fixed tomorrow," for good measure.

Then he walks off, muttering "Fix it tomorrow" and I can get back to yelling at Kobe Bryant and his backup singers, err, players.

No matter what your kid wants to do, if you don't want him/her to do it, just figure out a way for that thing to be broken. Doesn't matter if it's an intangible concept - Two year-olds don't know that "Outside" can't be broken. As long as you sell it with a sense of conviction and, this is important, SYMPATHY, they'll take it at face value and move on.

I'm not sure how much longer this lie is gonna work, but I do know Son #2 will start falling for it in just a few short months and I can't wait.

"It's broken" may be the greatest lie you can tell a toddler - And I don't feel guilty for a second.

This knowledge is my gift to you.... Happy Father's Day!

"Take It or Leave It"

As the title of this blog states, I'm trying to have CAREER all the while being a good dad. I've had a modicum of success, but haven't had the home run yet... That is, until now.

With that said, I present to you my newest game show idea, TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT

To get you acquainted, please know my show is sorta like Deal or No Deal with some slight differences. Differences that make it much better, IMO at least.

Those differences include, but are not limited too:

1) After offering a large sum of cash to the player, rather than saying "Deal or No Deal" our host will say to the contestant, "Take it or leave it". I feel it's a little more to the point and kinda funny in a condescending way - Especially since the host will then remind the player that no matter how well he/she does, said player still won't win more money than he, as the host, is earning for that very same episode. Puts 'em in place real quickly!

2) Instead of 26 cases numbered 1 through 26, there will be 26 cases LETTERED A through Z.

2B) The $1,000,000 will NEVER be in case Y --- If Y can't decide whether it's a vowel or not, we're not letting Y have all the glory.

3) There will be no "Banker" hidden in an upstairs office with tinted glass. However, there will be a "Money Manager" behind a curtain much like the Wizard of Oz.

4) Calls from the "Money Manager" to the host will be broadcast to the studio and home viewing audience - Additionally, these calls will be filled with expletives that are "beeped out".

5) The girls with the cases will not be super-hot model types, but rather ordinary midwestern soccer-mom types. This will ensure that male players pick cases based on actual hunches and not because they would like to "do" a particular girl.

6) If players consciously or subconsciously request cases F, U, C, and K in that order (or any other curse word for that matter) they will be arrested and fined $250,000 by the FCC. All this prior to being shipped to Guantanamo Bay where they will rot away in an underground prison.

7) Although Howie Mandel will not be hosting TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT, players may not shake the hand of or high-five our to-be-named-later host either. Doing so will result in the highest dollar amount being immediately removed from play. Doing so a second time will result in a brutal beating from American Gladiators Mayhem, Wolf, Toa, Titan, Militia, and Justice - See that, cross promotion beyotches!

8) The lowest value on the board will not be 1 cent, but rather 3 cents. No reason really other than to further differentiate the shows.

9) If a player chooses to "Leave It" (similar to "No Deal") and play on, risking it all when there's only one large money sum remaining on the board, a fat black woman (Mo'Nique type) will come out on stage and try to slap some sense into the player.

10) Anytime a player screws up and loses a fortune by being too greedy, cameras will follow that player and his/her family backstage and watch as the player's family berates him/her. Divorce lawyers will be on hand. Additionally, there will be a folding table set up with various blunt objects so the families may take their aggression out on the greedy bastard.

Taking 2 kids to the beach is no day at the beach

The crying, the whining, the pouting... I can deal with my wife when I'm trying to deal with my two favorite buggers (my boys) on the sandy shores of Malibu.

Travel Tip for all you dads: When going to the beach with a toddler, make sure you have a lot of juice, a lot of toys, and a lot of patience.

My oldest, we'll call him K1, can be a moody little bugger. Sometimes he's fun and other times, well, you just wanna give him away... Forget the black market, just hand him over... No exchange necessary... But he's yours... No backsies.

So yesterday, after two hours of whining while on Topanga Canyon Beach, he FINALLY fell asleep. THANK FREAKIN' GOD!

With him sleeping, my wife decided to take a walk.

My little guy finally asleep.

"No problemo," I said. Though, probably not in Espanol.

Anyway, it's me and the two kids. K1 is zonked out. K2 (the baby) starts crying. I have to think fast... And I do.

I pick him up, cover his head and walk 10 yards or so from the sleeping monster.

At that very moment (I kid you not) a GUST of wind comes from no where, lifting both my brand new beach umbrellas from the ground and taking them on a Mary Poppins-esque journey down the shoreline.

It's fight or flight time. Do stay with K1 and I let them go, thus losing the $40 I just spent on them OR do I, baby in tow, dart down the beach after them?

That's right I chose the latter. Sleeping monster would never know and mom wouldn't know either as, let's face it, who's gonna tell her? Not me.

Problem is, she caught me walking back to our "base camp" with the baby under one arm and two umbrellas over my shoulder...

To say she was upset that I'd leave a 2 year-old sleeping alone on the beach is an understatement... As of this typing, she's still mad at me.

Trust me on this, taking two kids to the beach is no day at the beach.

And who do you think dug this nifty hole? That's right, Hollywood Dad... I'm a giver and doer.

Not Acknowledging David Caruso

Taking my oldest son, K1, to the playground several times a week for the last year, I've seen my share of famous people. Not that I'm a star-f**ker, but it's always fun to see a celeb -- "D-List" and all.

I've seen everyone from Soul Plane's Mo'Nique and SNL's Tim Meadows to the more famous Elizabeth Shue, Slash of Guns and Roses, and David Caruso of CSI: Miami.

I never bother the celebs while out with their children, though I can't say the same for my son. It was our recent encounter with David Caruso that I'd like to share with you.

Picture this... We're at the playground and K1 pushes David Caruso's little fella. Not that I condone the rough stuff, but kids pushing each other happens all the time.

Then things went from bad to worse as, for whatever reason, the Caruso kid begins to cry... And cry... And cry.

I felt sorry... Truly did.

Had to apologize to David, All the while not acknowledging that I knew who he was.

He knew I knew. I knew that he knew I knew, but I didn't budge. I simply apologized and never let on.

It took every ounce of restraint not to look him in the eye and say in that over-the-top David Caruso-sque, signature CSI schmaltz, "Look's like your kid's played out."

So David, if you've Googled yourself and stumbled on to this blog, Again, I'm sorry. But you have to admit, you'd have laughed your ass off had I pulled that line out in your presence.

Can't you just hear his voice now?

It's not what you think... I swear!

NOTE: As I'm just starting this blog, I plan on using a few older stories to get it going. This story is from about one year ago, but is hilarious nonetheless.

Three weeks ago, I bought my oldest son (I'll refer to him as "K1") a little red car and to say he loves it is an understatement. (See picture below)

Every single morning, we take a walk through the neighborhood - down to Melrose Ave., up La Brea Ave., across Santa Monica Blvd. and back.

What I've noticed is that he's captivated by large vehicles (buses, fire trucks, ambulances and 18-wheelers). And whenever said vehicles rumble by, K1 points to them and, at the top of his lungs, yells "truck" - just in case I didn't know, I suppose.

Thing is, he's only 15 months old and can't actually say "truck" as his brain hasn't figured out out to make the proper phonetic "TR" sound. So, while in his mind he is saying "truck", in actuality he is saying "Cuck".

And of course, while I know what he's saying, passersby think my son is screaming "Cock" AND pointing so as to let me know where the "cock" is.

Of course the embarrassment of my son repeatedly yelling "cock" is amplified by the fact that we live in West Hollywood which is, as everyone knows, the gayest city this side of... Well no where. To give you an idea of how gay West Hollywood is, it makes South Beach look like Racine, WI.

West Hollywood, California: Where bizarre is normal.

And there he is, my little man, screaming "cock" at the top of his lungs every 12 seconds in the gayest city in America.

Well, I don't need to tell you it makes daddy proud.

In a semi-relaed story... People always ask me what it's like being a dad. And I always respond the same way. It's amazing and the one thing I've found to be most incredible is that once you have kids of your own, you finally learn just how much your parents loved you... Oh, and how much they resented you.

But how could you not love this guy? He's the best thing that ever happened to me. WAY better than the stroke... That's for sure.