"We'll Meet Again"

When I started this blog in August 2005, I foolishly attached my name to the URL. At the time, I was without a steady employer—"working" as a stay-at-home dad and moonlighting as a freelance writer—and didn't have to worry about stepping on anyone's or any company's toes. By making my real name (or is it?) part of the blog address, I stupidly put myself in a bad spot—one that I should have remedied long ago.

Incidentally, I never intended for anyone to discover this blog. My intention was to write in private, but Stacey didn't know this and sent the address out to a few family members and interest spread from there.

Now that I'm on the job hunt, I'm having to take steps to ensure that certain facets of my personal life don't interfere with potential employment opportunities. My MySpace page is now "friends only," the "Don't laugh mister, your daughter might be in here" bumper sticker is no longer affixed to my car, and the blog is now needing to be retired.

I've enjoyed writing here, but considering that I've written about topics such as abortion, immigration, at-home schooling and even taken one or two jabs at our government here and there, I think it's a safe bet that Corporate America might not take kindly to the half-baked musings of a guy who has spent the better part of the last two years knuckle deep in poop and Cheerios.

Plus there's, like, a lot of pictures of people vomiting.

So, goodbye for now, and thank you for reading. I may resurface again, so feel free to check this page every month or two. I'll be sure to leave a forwarding address.

"Immigrant Song"

There seems to be no one more removed from society than the very people we elect to make our laws. In that light, I propose that we abolish the current concept of the politician as we know it, and instead allow stay-at-home dads everywhere (and maybe a mom, or two) to start making the laws. If such a measure were adopted, there'd be fewer wars, more sharing and peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches for everyone.

I'm not interested in stirring up a political discourse in this space, and I'm not looking to change anyone's mind, but any politician with a firm stance on removing all the "illegals" from our country would be well served to spend some time at a playground with their kids, instead of spending all day glad-handing, kissing babies and accepting bribes in the name of America's best interests.

A large piece of the anti-immigration argument that keeps surfacing is that these people who are coming to our country unchecked are refusing to assimilate into "our" culture—although I wouldn't exactly mind if the next generation of Americans wasn't made up of gun-happy, overweight, uninspired zealots who are much to quick to anger or resort to violence as a first-option to a dispute.

Spend five minutes on a playground, and you'll quickly realized that this argument is as ridiculous as Phil Spector's haircut.

On the playground, I'm often frustrated that I can't communicate with the adults who—despite probably living here for decades—have yet to learn a word of English. I'm often greeted with a blank stare when I ask a parent if they wouldn't mind asking their child(ren) to stop pushing my kid or stealing his shovel.

But, when I express the same sentiment to their kids, more often than not, the kids respond with perfect English—although they usually keep on pushing and stealing... damn immigrants. Most of these children were born here and they are quickly mastering a language and culture that their parents have refused to accept.

I'd wager that any schoolteacher would be able to tell the same story.

I'm not saying that you need to re-evaluate your stance if you're a strict believer in stronger anti-immigration policies in the U.S.—I've obviously and intentionally overlooked the bulk of this issue—but if your sole point of contention with immigrants is that "those people" aren't assimilating, give it about ten years. You'll see; The kids of today's immigrants will soon be just as fat, lazy and trigger-happy as the rest of America.