Driving in the automobile yesterday, listening to my iPod, one song came on that described my relationship to this old blog:
It is a habit. I am used to it. I am just not sure I have much left to say.
On the other hand, at least two ideas for blog posts occurred to me during my drive from Chicago last night. That is good news for both of you who stop by every day. You will get fresh content in the coming days! I know -- that is certainly cause for champagne and caviar.
Today is my youngest son's 18th birthday. The joyous date has caused a great deal of evil looks and comments directed at me by my wife in the past weeks. You see, whenever the boy is asked what he wants for his birthday he tells her he wants to have a good cigar. I am pretty sure that desire is my fault. I have no doubt he would like a beer too, but that I will not provide until he is of proper age.
At dinner Tuesday the wife asked him what he was going to do on his birthday. He replied he was coming home from school, smoke a good cigar with Dad and then go out with his friends -- probably to the football game.
The look of malevolence directed at me would have scared the demons of Hell. If the image could have been captured on Kodachrome, it could have been used as a poster to scare off Al Qaeda -- Do not mess with The Great Satan:: this is what American mothers look like when perturbed.
I think I will head to the cigar store this afternoon to get a couple of special stogies. The boy and I will celebrate his birthday and I will welcome him to the brotherhood of the leaf in style.*
Are habits genetic?
* yes I know this makes me look like a shitty parent. He is going to go buy one anyway, so he might as well have a good one instead of a Swisher Sweet or such.