Currently The Best of Semisonic: 20th Century Masters - The Millennium Collection By Semisonic see related

A One-Girl Reception Committee

I expected to slip into the house quietly, grab a quick bite and then go up to catch a little football before bed.

It was a teaching night and I was getting home later than usual.  I quietly opened the door and got a surprise in the form of my 3-year-old girl.

It startled me at first.  I looked up and there she was standing there expectantly.

She appeared to be the only one in the house who was awake.  Of course, I was concerned thinking about all the trouble an unsupervised girl that age could get into downstairs.

“Hi Daddy!” she said happily.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.  I instantly felt badly as I saw disappointment and hurt swell up in her face.

“I just wanted to see you when you got home Daddy,” she said softly. “I wanna peanut butter sandwich too.”

I swept her up in my arms and gave her a kiss.  My teaching days are long, often arduous 14-hour affairs, but I should never be too tired to accept a little girl’s love.

Besides, this girl has always been a night owl.  She doesn’t need much of an excuse to stay up late most nights since she doesn’t have school and can sleep in the next day.

We both had a late dinner together.  I couldn’t help but ask her why she wasn’t upstairs sleeping with her brother and her mother.

“Daddy, I couldn’t go to sleep without kissing you good night,” she said.

I felt like even more of a heel now.  What could I have done to deserve such unconditional love? We finished up and I took her upstairs.

My wife was stirring and she saw us come into the room. She raised herself up and looked at us sleepily.

“Look, I had a one-girl reception committee,” I told my wife.

She called my Baby Girl’s name out.  However, she was tired.  She had a long day too so I let her go back to sleep.

The next morning, my wife said she was a bit aggravated that she had crawled out of bed and gone downstairs.  However, she's always been a night owl and we'll have to be mindful of that in the future.

We cuddled up together on the couch and watched a little Monday Night Football.  As she lay in arms finally giving way to sleep, I thought about what a miracle she was and how we were so blessed to have her.  I thought once again of my three-day trek to get home from Iraq in time for her birth, and how holding her that first time made it worth all the effort and aggravation.

I had papers to grade and there were dishes to be done downstairs.  However, I took a few moments just to relish this time.  I know it won’t always be this way, but I’ll always have this memory.

Currently Get Ready see related

Why They Call It A Tragedy

 It’s hard to believe 25 years has passed and harder still that seemingly nobody picked up on the grisly anniversary.

On Oct. 12, 1984, actor Jon-Erik Hexum was killed when he discharged a .44 magnum to his temple during a break from filming his show “Cover Up.” There’s still debate over whether Hexum accidentally pulled the trigger or did it on purpose as some kind of joke. Either way, the force of the discharge caused a quarter-sized fragment of bone into his brain.

The 27-year-old actor died several hours later after he was declared brain dead. The accident ended the career of a stunningly handsome star who many felt was bound for greatness.

I first noticed Hexum when he co-starred in a short-lived series called “Voyagers.”  He was paired with an orphan boy and traveled through time setting time straight when it got off kilter.

While “Voyagers” didn’t last long, it garnered Hexum a lot of notice.  His stock rose even more when he appeared in a TV movie called “Making of a Male Model” with Joan Collins.

In 1984, he landed the leading male role on “Cover Up.”  He played a former Green Beret, “Mac Harper,” who is recruited to pose as a male model while his leading lady, played by “Jennifer O’Neill, takes on various undercover missions throughout the world.

After seven episodes, the show was turning into a modest hit.  I had been a big O’Neill fan since “Summer of ’42,” so I was a regular watcher.

I was home on leave waiting to go to Germany when I got the news.  Naturally, I was stunned.

Hexum was an amazing individual.  After his death, I found out that he also played football for Michigan State.  Apparently, he was a sophomore and watched the Spartans play football.  He determined he was going to try out for the team the following year.

Making a Big 10 Team as a walk-on player is no easy task.  Yet, he made the team and even played as a senior.

His rise in Hollywood was no less meteoric. He had already had a major role in a motion picture and “Cover Up” was going to propel him to stardom.

On the date of his death, it seems there were production lags and Hexum was very tired.  He had complained to a friend earlier that he was on the set 16 hours six days a week.

After his death, Hexum was replaced by Australian actor Antony Hamilton.  The show was OK, but was just never the same and it died a quick death at season’s end.

(Hamilton had reportedly been chosen to replace Roger Moore as James Bond, but was dropped after producers learned he was a homosexual. Hamilton died in 1994 at 42.  His cause of death was complications from AIDS.)

Such a tragic death is so haunting.  You wonder what would have become of Hexum.  Would he have fulfilled his promise of stardom or would he be selling real estate in Beverly Hills?  We will never know.

It’s just a shame he didn’t get the chance to try.  I guess that’s why they call it a tragedy.

Actor Jon-Erik Hexum is shown here with co-star Jennifer O'Neill during a publicity shot for the 1984 series "Cover Up."

Currently Christmas In the Heart By Bob Dylan see related

A Complicated Halloween

Halloween used to be so easy.

Normally, it took one trip to Wal-Mart when my oldest daughter was a little girl, and we had a costume.  She donned it and everybody thought she was cute.

We would take her to our church's Halloween alternative, Fall Festival.  She would come back with a bucket full of candy and a few prize trinkets and we had one happy girl.

No more.

Now, my 3-year-old and 6-year-old are still easy.  As in days of old, I took them to Wal-Mart, turned them lose and they both came back sporting a costume.

My teenager didn't like the offerings in either Wal-Mart or K-Mart.  We took her to the Halloween store and had no luck there either.

She is into Japanese imported cartoon about "Sailor Moon,"  and she wanted to be one of those characters.  They were not to be found in our usual outlets.

We then turned to the Internet.  After some searching, my daughter found the costume she wanted.  With shipping and handling, it cost $70.  It was roughly twice what both costumes for my little ones cost.

I relucantly agreed.  It was custom-made costume and it was beautiful on her.

Mom didn't think it did a good job covering her ever emerging figure.  However, after a couple of modifications, it was finally approved.

In the days leading up to Halloween, I felt badly about the big cost difference.  I was at a party store looking for something else and found accessories to both of their costumes and picked them up.

I brought them to the house fully prepared to defend my purchase.  Mom shocked me.  She said it was good initiative on my part.

I was so glad I did.  My son's best friend wore a similar costume and he had an accessory.  I'm just relieved the Little Guy didn't have to feel like he was outclassed.

Last night, I helped set up and work one of the booths at church.  Once I finished, I wanted to take a break, but was then told my teenager was leaving early to go to a Halloween Party of a classmate.

I sighed.  She was always satisfied just to attend the church function before.

We finished up at the Fall Festival and I took the kids to McDonald's.  The featured fare of pulled pork sandwiches didn't appeal to them.

As we headed home, my babies got entangled in a fight over French fries.  I had to whip the SUV over and settle the fight.

I reviewed my Sunday School lesson for today and dozed off on the couch.  It was time to go pick up my teenager.

I got there 10 minutes before the party was slated to break up.  However, the kids were still going strong with a bonfire.  The hostess offered me a bowl of chili and I enjoyed that while the party started to break up.

We noticed the full moon over the subdivision and thought it was appropriate for Halloween.  It had been quite a day with a function at school, a birthday party for the one of the Little Guy's friends and a busy night.

I'm afraid future Halloweens aren't going to get any easier.  It's not going to be much of a relaxing holiday in the coming years.

At least I still have Thanksgiving.  All we need is a turkey and yams for that one, right?

Currently That's Why By Craig Morgan see related

Mascara Wars

So I’m barely over the trauma from my last Wal-Mart visit when my wife angrily confronts me.

“Why did you buy your daughter makeup while you were at Wal-Mart?”

“Huh?” says I.  “She tossed a couple of things in the cart, but I figured they were girl things.”

“Well, you need to start paying attention to what she buys,” my wife thundered angrily.

You see, we are having a struggle in our home.  We have a newly minted teenager on one side and a determined Mom on the other.

The issue:  makeup.  The teenager says she should get to wear it because the other girls do and Mom says she didn’t wear makeup until she went to college.  It was good enough for her so it should be good enough for our oldest daughter.

Somehow, I’ve been appointed referee for this skirmish.  I’m the man of the family, and the ultimate authority.  It’s a convenient line for my wife to throw out at times like these when I would rather go cut the grass.

My position has been and remains that Mom is the fashion police.  She makes the ultimate call on what I wear and what the kids wear.  I do offer input and guidance, but I always defer to Mom in the end.

Since the kids were babies, I always let Mom take a look at them before I took them out.  It takes only a few minutes and it saves me from a lot of grief if she thought I took them out in public looking tacky.

The “Mascara Wars” have been steadily escalating in recent weeks.  My daughter has tried to drag me in on it and my wife has looked to me for support.  Either way, I figure I’m going to have one of my favorite ladies upset with me.

I’ve told my daughter she’s too young for makeup.  She’s beautiful just the way she is and doesn’t need any of that “war paint” as my Pop used to call makeup.

My compliments are of little comfort to her.  After all, I’m her Dad and she thinks I’m supposed to say that kind of stuff.

Of course, what I really want to say is, “You’re still a baby to me.  Don’t wear that stuff because it’s just another reminder that you’re growing up entirely too fast.”

I just hate being in the middle of such a heated argument between two hard-headed women.  Both have valid arguments.  However, I am really trying to impress on all my kids that you don’t do things simply because their peers are doing them.  That kind of mindset can lead to tragic consequences.

It’s just hard to tell a teenager that there are worst things that being out of step with the rest of the crowd.  I know how I felt growing up as a Baptist preacher’s kid in a largely Catholic community where you were looked on as an oddity at best or as a cult member at worst.

My wife has to learn to sympathize with the needs and the wants of a teenage girl.  We have to give her wiggle room.  We’ve raised a good kid and she’ll make the right decisions, but we have to let her spread her wings a bit no matter how painful for us it might be.

As I was pondering this dilemma, I saw my other special lady, my 3-year-old.  She had pulled one of her Mom’s puffy things out of her purse and was applying some form of makeup to her face.

“Honey, what are you doing?” I asked her.

“Daddy, I’m just trying to make myself beautiful,” she said in a plain tone.

I snatched her up and gave her a hug.  Whatever happens, we’re going to have a replay a few years down the road.

Currently Land of the Lost - The Complete First Season By Wesley Eure, Kathy Coleman, Dave Greenwood, Bill Laimbeer, John Lambert see related

More Adventures at Wal-Mart

I'm not a big fan of going to Wal-Mart, period.

I always look for alternatives, and the fact that today is Saturday made me wish all the more I could go somewhere else.  However, I had to pick up a prescription and we need to do some cooking since it's our day to bring refreshment for Sunday school tomorrow.

At first, nobody wanted to go with me.  I was getting ready to leave when I asked my oldest daughter if she needed anything.

"Oh Dad," she said.  "I'll just come with you."

As we started out the door, my two younger kids began begging to go.  I tried to put them off by saying I would take them next time.  My Little Guy then began screaming and crying and my Baby Girl soon joined in.

My wife told me that since our exit was so ungraceful that we were going to have to take them.  My newly minted teenager and I waited out in the SUV and the younger ones came trotting out.

I knew it was a mistake even before I made it out of the subdivision.  My trio was already fighting amongst themselves.

Our first watch was the battery store.  My wife and MIL had several watches that needed new batteries.

My Baby Girl was soon telling she had "to go potty."  We had only been gone from home for a few minutes, and I was not pleased.  They are supposed to take care of those things before they leave the house.

We got the batteries into all the watches a lot quicker than I figured.  The shopkeeper was kind enough to let everybody use the bathroom so we were off to Wal-Mart.

I told the children that I had a shopping list from their mother and that we were not here to buy toys.  If they would behave themselves, I might get them a treat at the check-out lane, but that would be it.

I was thankful that I got my prescriptions with ease.  It's not a given being that we were going on a Saturday afternoon.

There were a couple of other items on the list from the area surrounding the pharmacy.  I called my wife and the cell and turned my back on my Baby Girl.  Upon completing the call, I turned my head and she was gone.

I wasn't too upset at first because I figured she was with her brother and sister.  Once I spotted both of them, and she was not with them, I got a bit irked.

We spread out and started the search.  The most important thing was to remain calm.  I felt a combination of anger and fear as I searched for my errant 3-year-old.

My efforts were complicated by the throng of people.  Our Wal-Mart is always packed on Saturdays even UT is playing on TV as they were this day.

One of the store workers who was behind a counter saw me searching and suggested that I get them to lock down the store if I didn't find her soon.  I searched the toy section and was going to look at the video games until I heard an announcement over the Intercom.

My Baby Girl's full name was being used.  Her parents were being summoned to Customer Service.

Admittedly, I was a bit embarassed as I headed that way.  However, I was more relieved than anything. 

I found her in the company of two older women workers.  One of them said she had found her wondering in the book section.

"She's very smart," one of the ladies told me.  "She knew her parents' names and said we could call her Mother."

Of course, I snatched her up.  I thanked the ladies and apologized for the inconvenience she no doubt caused.

I got my kids together and told them that I was very upset.  They'd better tow the line during the rest of this shopping trip or it would months before they would see Wal-Mart again.

At that point, I figured the worst was behind me.  I would finish the list and get the heck out of there.

I thought wrong.

After we were reunited, the Little Guy got his eye on a Littlest Pet Shop figure.  He began to cry loudly as we trudged toward the grocery section.

My first instinct was to put the thing in the cart to humor them.  Of course, that would obligate me to buy everybody something, and it would also show weakness.  No, I had to say no this time.

It was a slow trek across Wal-Mart.  I carried the Little Guy then I would put him down and his older sister would try to drag him.

I fought the temptation of looking like one of those white trash parents who beats their kid in Wal-Mart.  It was Saturday and there was no place where somebody wasn't watching so I could not slip off somewhere and give him a well-earned spanking.

Finally, I plopped him in the seat while he was still screaming.  I quietly growled at hime that he'd better stay there or he would be in deep trouble.

The Little Guy finally calmed down.  Once he regained a civil tone, he wanted to try the polite approach to get his toy.  It was not going to happen.

I did let them get a ring pop as I checked out.  He stopped his pouting once he got the candy and we were quickly gone.

By this time, I was admittedly flustered.  It took me a couple of minutes to find the SUV and get home.

I knew I had to tell my wife and was not looking forward to her reaction.  However, I knew it was better for me to tell her and come clean than to have one of the kids tell her.

I did remind her that it was her idea.  It was my only defense.