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Bruce, we gave you tha keys, and THIS is what you brought home?

¿Dónde está mi dinero, las rameras?

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Tuesday, September 21

Let them play!

Been doing my William Devane-insipred mantra all weekend. (How obscure is that for ya?)

Thank you all for your comments about the Special Olympics/Overinvolved Dad juxtapositional essay from yesterday. It really is hard for me to keep a cap on it, because 1) I am, forever, uncouth, and 2) when it comes to my kids, I know how much effort my wife and I put into making it possible for them to participate, and it infuriates me when I think I see less than 100% effort. I put 100% effort into paying for equipment, fees, etc, running them to and fro, and I expect the same out of them. I don't feel that they understand (or don't care) what MY expectations are. I guess the answer is to not invest so much of myself, so I won't feel resentful.

But that doesn't work, either, because there isn't a whole lot else going on with my kids that I can share in. My eldest is involved in school, sports, and playing grabass with his friends of both sexes, and not much else. My youngest, school, sports, video games and bad Japanese anime with HIS friends, and not much else. I can help with school and sports. The rest, I'm pretty much cut out of.

But it appears when all is weighed and considered, that rage plays no part in the process.

So, in the spirit of virtual lobotomization, I react lukewarmly about yesterday's split. On one hand, after winning the first game, there was no good goddamned reason why our so called "starters" shouldn't have bitch-slapped David Weathers all over the yard.

But on the other hand, I never thought Lame Mark Prior would have a chance against the man Too Good for Alyssa Milano, Carl Pavano.

So, I'm just going to Let Them Play.