Happy Wednesday

I know it's not Friday, but it feels like one.  Fat roasted turkeys around the corner.  Or as the wise EGB would say, "Thanksgiving is after my nap".  I guess everything is technically after her nap.

More rock videos soon...Until then.

Find a balance in life because if you fall you might get busted up.

Climb something you've never climbed before.  Then scream for your Dad to get you down.

Smile.  Because old people will give you free stuff.

Take Me Out To The Ball Game

Back by popular demand is the legendary 2-year-old diva, EGB with her rendition of "Take Me Out To The Ball Game" (on the blog for email subscribers).  It's been a real whirlwind since she did her first video.  We almost can't keep up with the press, fans, and paparazzi.  She got one comment from someone else's grandma on her YouTube channel.  It's straight madness around here.  We're fighting off agents and drooling toddler boys left and right around here.  Send in the troops.

In this melodic and timeless video you'll see she's been working on her enunciation.  I think it takes her 10 minutes to say Crack....errrr....jacks.  But that could be part of her product placement contract with Cracker Jack .  By the way I just learned several things in looking up Cracker Jack.  First of all, I didn't know he was owned by Frito Lay.  Must be weird to doing your thing..slinging carmel nuts and toys and the next thing you know you're owned by some corn chips. Also, I didn't know Cracker and Jack were separated words.  I always thought it was Crackerjacks--with an "s" on the end too.  As if you were eating some ancient corn brittle that you had to crack like some jacks or something.  But I guess it's really a sailor boy named Cracker and his dog Jack who are rocking the box cover.  Now that I think about it, I can't imagine that Jack is happy about being a called a cracker, but I guess times were different back then.

Anyway.  The best part of this video is that EGB has never been to a baseball game.  Not even a softball game. No T-Ball. Nothing.  This is inspired by pure, raw imagination.  It's like a Jewish kid on Christmas morning.  You know everybody is up to something.  What is it? You're not sure...you envision them dancing, singing, opening piles of toys brought in by some dude in a XXL red suit, and eating the illicit ham.  It's a true fantasy world out there while you stay at home crushing the last of the Manischewitz on the couch because everything is closed. EGB is channeling the long history of this fantasy driven imagination by Jewish songwriters.  "White Christmas" and "Rudolf, the Red-Nosed Reindeer" were both written by Jewish dudes.  I guess they too were bored on Christmas morning and decided to write some really popular songs.

Without further ado...Ladies and gentlemen, it's the seventh-inning stretch of 2010.  Take off your hats, stand up, loosen your belts, crush a hot dog, and take a pee if you have to.  It's the great EGB doing what she does best.  Time to get down.  And can't wait to take EGB to a baseball game next year so she school all the other little kids on her "Ball Game" prowess.

Burgers For Halloween

Ahhh. What difference a year makes.  If you click here  you'll see the Great EGB in her Halloween glory from 12 months ago.  She was a Colorado Fairy.  Which basically translates to a sweat suit with aluminum foil wings.

This year she's 2-years-old. Which basically means we as parents can still make EGB be whatever we want her to be.  After going through the normal rounds of little girl options....princess, cheerleader, super woman.  We put EGB down for her nap with the idea that she'd be a cheerleader upon her awakening.  The reality was that this outfit consisted of old ribbons, stained shirts, and some other kid's skirt.  I wanted more.  I wanted EGB to be proud of her costume.  See how this works?  2-year-olds couldn't actually care less, but we as parents project our wants and desires on our kids thus stressing the hell out of them.  I could have put a garbage bag on her and EGB would have thought that was the craziest thing ever.  But I'm not really into garbage bags on kids.

So I got on the hunt during EGB's nap.  After some unsuccessful attempts at the grocery store, Walgreens, and the thrift store, the costume was found at Old Navy about 30 minutes before EGB was due to hit the streets in pursuit of candy. It was the awesomest costume I'd ever seen, but I knew it wasn't going to be an instant sell.  EGB likes sparkle and pink.  This was a fleece brown cheeseburger costume.  If you're hungry--it's the best looking thing you've ever seen.  Lettuce, cheese, sesame bun--the whole thing. But if you've just woken up from your nap thinking you were going to get to be this awesome cheerleader, but now are going to be a cheeseburger--it sucks.  We shoved it in her face upon her awakening and she looked at me like, "Papa.  You crazy old fart.  Shoo.  If you think I'm wearing that then you better install a chocolate milk keg in my room."

After a couple of bribes with the lure of candy and some over the top parenting lies, "ISN'T THIS THE COOOOLEST THING YOU'VE EVER SEEN?  IT'S A CHEESEBURGER! IT'S SOOO COOL." EGB buckled. Plus the sesame bun on her belly was like one of those sumo fat suits and sweet for doing belly flops from the couch to the floor.

So she spent her 2nd Halloween as a cheeseburger amongst the witches, football players, cheerleaders, and turtles. The other kids loved her.  The adults thought she was uniquely cute.  You know that sort of indirect judgement that occurs between parents?

"Ohhh.  What a cute cheeseburger!" said parent to EGB.

All the while the parent is giving me the stank eye that really meant, "A cheeseburger?  You made your adorable little daughter a burger?  A steamy burger?  With lettuce and cheese?  For real? That ain't right.  I'm about to call child services on you. She should be something more girly.  More out there in the realm of fairy world stuff.  There is a cannon for this, you know?  A rite of passage of sorts for little girls. A cheerleader would have been much better."  Then would proceed to give EGB extra candy as an act of sympathy.  EGB would then slyly look to me and wink her eye.  We were in on this one together.

As a parent of a 2-year-old trick-or-treater there is this weird element in which the candy-giver to your child somehow indirectly becomes your own personal candy dealer.  The candy-giver and I both know that this little 2-year-old isn't going to crush all the candy.  In fact, EGB isn't going to eat much of it at all.  Therefore, my little cheeseburger is doing some dirty work to round up the neighborhood candy for me.  It made me feel a little dirty.  Like in the 80s when I'd hear the stories of little 5-year-olds running crack rock for the dealers.  But after a few glimpses at the shiny candy wrappers, I got over it. So EGB and I were essentially running a little street operation to round up as much candy as possible for me.  Once I realized what was really in it for me Halloween became a lot more fun.  EGB got tired quickly, but I pumped her up with some hard candies and straight sugar hits until we filled up her pumpkin basket.  We ran until the wee hours of the morning and shut the neighborhood down.

It went like this--EGB would walk up to the door and the candy-giver would hold out the basket of goods.  EGB would hold her hand over different candies until she was given the go ahead signal from me.  Much like a baseball pitcher and catcher except instead of curveballs vs. fastballs it was Tootsie Rolls vs. Butterfingers.  She made a few errors like picking up the plastic spider ring and pretzels, but she redeemed herself with a pickup of a full sized Hershey bar and extra Reece's Cups.  We make a good team and are planning to knock off a few banks around the holidays.

At the end of it all,  I was proud of EGB's commitment to the burger.  It takes a special child to be a burger.  She owned it.  And the dogs wanted to lick her.

Maybe years from now EGB will look at us parents and wonder why we let her be a burger for Halloween.  I hope she won't be too mad.  We did it for her so she knows what it's like to walk the earth as a burger.  Not many of us do.  It's a true test of character.  And she also did it for us.  A soldier of our street hustle. She scored as much candy as possible.  I think in this one everyone wins.  Stay tuned for next year when EGB will be a bowl of guacamole.

Got some videos here for you (view on the blog here):
What?  You've never seen a running cheeseburger?  Gotta keep them moving to earn their keep.  Go get those Reeces!!

It is not full to the top.  Better keep moving kid.  Work the streets you little burger.

Dang. Papa D.  You an old guy?  Where's your costume?

This is my little homie Ben.  He was a train. I'm a burger.  We're kindred spirits. 

Working hard for Daddy.  Boo.  Give me extra candy.

Got some pickles?

Will hustle for cookies.

EGB Is An Inspirational and Hardcore Artist

After yesterday's posting of the EGB's video rendition of "You Are My Sunshine" there was an outpouring of messages.  I was contacted by many people all over the world telling me the tales of their lives changed by EGB (by the way if you didn't see it you must go directly to the blog to watch videos.  It's a whacked feature of the email subscription thing):

"I was having the worst day.  My house burnt down.  My wife left me.  My dog pooped in my flip-flops.  My wheels fell off my car.  But then I watched the "You Are My Sunshine" video of EGB at work and immediately my boss walked in and gave me a promotion to CEO.  Then they loaded 5 kegs of beer into my new office, brought back James Brown and his band from the dead, and threw a raging party with a pizza buffet until the wee hours of the morning.  When I came to--there were 8 Victoria Secret models fighting over who was going to be my next girlfriend.  Thanks EGB.  You changed my life."  Said one lucky dude from Philadelphia.

"EGB wewe ni bora. Mimi alicheza hii jana kwa kabila wangu wote ambao walikuwa juu ya ukingo wa kufa na njaa na kifo. Wakati wa tukio hilo. A Kundi lote la nyati maji kutembea katika kijiji chetu na kuuawa wenyewe. Basi wafanyakazi wote wa umeme ngumu wired ya kijiji pamoja na umeme katika dakika ya 15. Nje ya pa Bobby Flay anatembea na hufanya mfupa bomu sucking mbavu buffalo kwa sisi wote. Shukrani EGB hatuwezi wamefanya hivyo bila wewe"  Said one Swahili email from some remote African village.  I asked EGB to translate and this is what she came up with:

"EGB you are the best.  I played this yesterday for my whole tribe who were on the brink of starving to death.  When it was done.  A whole herd of water buffalo walked into our village and killed themselves.   Then a whole crew of electricians hard wired the village with electricity in 15 minutes. Out of nowhere Bobby Flay walks in and makes the bomb bone sucking buffalo ribs for us all.  Thanks EGB we couldn't have done it without you."

"I thought I had something when I signed Janis Joplin, Whitney Houston, and Pink Floyd, but damn they're ghetto alley cats compared to you EGB.  Please call me when you get to Hollywood so I can blow you up." Said Clive Davis.

And that was only the tip of the iceberg. But you catch my drift here.  However, some said that they want to see more edge.  More of a hardcore EGB.  Oh, really?  You don't know hardcore until you see this rendition of "Twinkle Little Star".  The dog ran away after EGB poured gasoline on the TV and started biting the heads off her stuffed animals.  She rocked the guitar so hard the strings filed a lawsuit.  It's getting outta control around here.  The neighbors windows are shattering.  Anyone want to babysit this weekend?

(go to the blog to see the video)

Ummm.

EGB is 29 months.  That's almost 30 electric bills. Years, months, it all just blends together like one big chunky smoothie.  The kind with ice cream, beef, and bread all together.  The reflection is a mix of sweet, rich, and comfort.  It flies by.  I still remember being 16, eating lunch on the steps of Walnut Hills, and dodging a flying yogurt--like it was yesterday.  I'm moving on from this point....I just referenced a beef milkshake.  The fact is that we're all getting older. And it's all weird.

So yeah. I know, it's now November and basically Winter is on the prowl and I still have to get you the Fall updates.  Halloween.  Hikes. Toddler developments.  Cousin additions. It's all there and here and coming at you eventually.

But sometimes something happens in the present that supersedes all of the past as to just override it.  I guess that's the way it is for all of us sometimes.  The art of slowly playing catch up helps alleviate the burden of a past gone without reflection.  And sometimes it just has to be that way.  Going forward we may not remember it all, but carry it with us in the corners of our actions somehow.  And sometimes you just write words about doing things in hopes that in doing so you actually somehow do something.  All I know is that I feel a little better for doing it and that's all that counts.  So I do my best to slow it all down.

Back to the present. I'm not sure if it gets better than what you're about to see. I mean, eating a sandwich with EGB for the first time was pretty cool.  And sure EGB's first steps were earth shattering, but the upcoming video is the top.  I'm talking Everest.  Not some lame-ass base-camp-hot-cocoa drinking moment either.  No.  This is when a human does something that takes it to the heights.  Like Sonya "Black Widow" Thomas' ate 9.75 pounds of fried okra in 10 minutes (website equally impressive in it's awfulness greatness). That was pretty great.  Not this type of great great.

By the way, I just Googled "greatness" to see where EGB shows up.  I couldn't find her listing on the first page, so I'm writing a letter to Google to let them know that their search algorithm is obviously fatally flawed and should be outed as a fraud.  I will no longer trust Google to find anything of value.  I discussed this finding with EGB and she simply told me:

"Papa D, I never have had to use Google because I already know where and what everything is in the world."

"Really, hmm.  Ok, then where is the remote island of Trisan da Cunha?"

"It doesn't matter." ambivalently said EGB while stacking some blocks.

"But you said you know where everything is."

"Yes I did.  But I don't need to know where it is.  I know there are unknowns.  I know there are mysteries.  I know that we search for things we'll never find.  And I know that words have limitations. This Google you speak of will fall short as well. So yes, your mentioned island is somewhere to be listed.  But these serious matters of yours are of no consequence to me or any of us.  I'm hungry.  Can I have a snack?"

"Hm.  Makes sense.  I guess I'll just have to "EGB" everything from now on.  Google ain't got nothing on you my little search engine."  I said as I proceeded to kiss her on her sweaty afro.

So last night I EGB'd what to have for dinner and she printed a sloppy joe recipe out of her diaper.  It works.  It was wild. And quite a nice recipe too.

Wow, this daylight saving time is making my head a little jacked up.  I tried to explain the whole daylight saving time thing to EGB and basically realized that it doesn't matter either.  EGB is a good teacher like that.  They all are.  The little princes and princesses among us would rule the earth if they just didn't grow up and get dumber like the rest of us.

Ok. I know. Ok, let's get to it.

I know kids are cute.  Your kids are cute.  We all think we have some special thing going on.  But dammit EGB needs an agent...STAT.  Peep this and tell me this isn't the most kick ass thing you've ever seen.  This is it.  The top.  If EGB doesn't win something or get a contract from this I'm out.  I'm done.  Burning my computer and lighting my underwear on fire.

So here we go! We getting paid.  Turn it up and break out the Henny cause we gonna party with helicopters and R. Kelly. Stay tuned.

(I always forget this one.  If you are an email subscriber you'll have to go directly to the blog to see this video golden nugget of fame blazing the trail for 2-year-olds all over the universe)