I celebrated the end of this Father's Day, the same way I celebrated the end of my first day as a father, November 19, 1999.
I sat out on my front porch with a bottle of Chimay Blue (aka, Grande Réserve) and a Punch Grand Cru cigar. That was the beginning of the slow shallow downward spiral from stud triathlete (on first glance anyway) to the slow, fat, pale old man I am now.
Rebuilding the Monster
I need to rebuild my Monster.
He’s in need of some repair.
His belly’s gotten a little soft. He’s lost a little hair.
I haven’t used him much lately,
I haven’t had anyone to scare.
My Monster needs a little work.
He should get back to the gym.
He’s not as fast as he used to be.
His arms are getting thin.
He definitely should watch what he eats -
The fat and sugar are just killing him.
I will get him an outfit,
He certainly deserves a new suit.
Something that looks dignified; not clownish or cute.
He’s much more frightening in his rags,
But he is still my friend, the poor brute.
Dreams, Nightmares and Characters
1 day ago