introduction...

introduction...

There are certain instances in everyone’s life that generally define what each individual will eventually make of it. As mentioned earlier, I know this firsthand; and being a parent of two young boys has me very worried that their ultimate potential in life might one day be quashed by an unfortunate wrong-turn here or there, friendships within the wrong group, and/or seemingly innocent generally punkish behavior, all while on “my watch”. Even worse for me is the thought that if I were to [God-forbid] croak prematurely, absolutely no one would be there (or willing) to point-out to my children the specific, intimate, and personal father-to-son preferences and suggestions that I might’ve otherwise had the opportunity to relay had I lived life long enough to encounter the variety of occurrences that might have happened to spark such advice. Things like “Ummm… Son, your ball-cap is beginning to look a little-bit tilted to the side there. I’m sure it’s inadvertent, but you might want to fix it”, or “Ummm… Son, those pants appear to be a bit too big on ya. Maybe you and I can head on out to the batting cages a little earlier today and perhaps swing by the mall to pick-up some pants that actually fit ya?”, or “Ummm… Son, if you ever pierce any part of your body or get a tattoo before leaving my nest, I’ll have you know that there will be negative consequences that are best left unspoken”.

And so I started writing this “book”, “mission statement”, or “whatever it is” as if my time here on earth with my kids might be temporary. Now, I must point-out that this is very different in regards to what I might write if I were to ever be given a terminal diagnosis/prognosis. In [God-forbid] such an occurrence, I would probably be more-inclined to write something “inspirational” in nature; but [as far as I know] I’m not dying. I’m simply afraid that I might kick the bucket prior to my kids reaching the impressionable age of reason that truly starts to define one’s character.

You see… In this day and age, I’ve come to the conclusion that kids need to be informed of many of the things that adults might have taken for granted a generation or two ago. Otherwise they wouldn’t be so content ridiculously strutting around with tattoos up and down their arms and neck, and with every possible orifice and/or protuberance pierced, all the while appearing to be an uneducated dumbass as their underwear and/or butt-cracks are showing. Unbeknownst to them as they do this, their life’s potential slowly, but surely circles the drain with each and every step they take, the third or fourth one usually followed by a completely avoidable half-hearted pants-pull-up attempt. What I mean is that they need to be informed that they will [in fact] get older, and that each decision they make in life, even the most trivial, will mysteriously have a cumulative effect on how they’ll end-up in the future.

In this context, and based upon what I see every day, what follows is my take on exactly what my children and the average youth in America needs to hear. I must warn you, however, that it’s brutally honest. You may see your child (or even yourself) at times and get pissed when I insinuate that they (or you) are on their (your) way to being either a loser or a cheeseball. But, the chances are that you’ll like what I have to write and subsequently share it with others that you might know.

Here’s to hoping that there are tons more laughs than offenses in the following pages.