BEING A DAD

There's something about being a dad that's simply wonderful. Yes when our kids grow and they defy us, try our patience, they get the worst out of us. There is something wonderful about it though, even with all the crap they put us through. I remember the fun things like telling my son stories about Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and other things.

I remember when my son first helped me wash my car, when I bought him his little electric scooter and landmarks like teaching him how to swim. My life is better because of those days and I'm a little wiser as a result. I hope my son has learned about life, being a productive human being, and the importance of being earnest.

I will never be a perfect man, I hope that I will be remembered for being a good father, a father that tried and cared. To me being a good father is life's greatest reward and having that recognition from my own son is the best kind of recognition I can get.

Remember Bozo?

Every now and then I will take time out of my schedule in order to reflect on my sometimes abnormal hatred of clowns. I try to focus on it from a psychological perspective and because I am not a psychologist I can't seem to come up with any answers. There was one clown that to me was very much relatable. Yes my friends I am referring to the legendary Bozo the Clown.

Since I was just 4 years old I would watch Bozo on WGN every day. I really enjoyed the fabulous "Grand Prize Game" of dropping balls into lined up buckets and the further the bucket the better the prize. I will not forget the kid that won the Schwinn bicycle. There was something about that show that was relatable. The clowns all seemed to have their particular personalities that made them endearing.

There was cookie the clown and he seemed loving but a bit hapless. I remember the Wizard clown and I believe his handle was Wizo. Every day there was some new scheme from the clowns to get each other with pranks but in hte end there was that wholesome lesson about right and wrong.

Bozo was a leader of the pack and he also seemed to hold it all together for the family. I remember hearing that the wait list for Bozo tickets in Chicago was something like ten to fifteen years. I can imagine a 20 year old saying 'fuck that I am playing the grand prize game." Good times people, good times!