Paradise By The Dashboard Light

Dear Meatloaf, please don't break my balls for using one of your most famous song titles.  Those of you who are smart enough might actually get the irony involved by the end of this.

I recently got engaged to my girlfriend, Chloe.  Naturally, I proposed in writing because I can't seem to properly express myself verbally.  (I won't bore you with the story...)  I'm hoping this time around it will work out.  I think it will.  Even statistics are on my side.  First marriages only work half the time, but second marriages work out much more frequently...and I'm truly happy and in love.  Plus she's hot, funny, smart, driven, cooks and cleans, and gives fantastic blowj....ummmmm....back rubs.

To say that I've kissed a few swamp donkeys along the way is an understatement.  And by kissed of course I mean, well you know.  (Disease and unplanned pregnancy free since '96, by the way!)  Let's consider the history for a moment...and if I offend anyone, too bad, frankly.  Nobody said this space was meant for the thin-skinned, the politically correct, and the easily offended.

My major relationships have consisted of the following: 

1.  A girl who cheated on me with one of my good friends, (no blame from me on him, by the way...situations like this are the girl's fault, 100% of the time.)  Then she turned to crack, literally, at which point I promptly dumped her. She moved to a trailer park in Pawtucket, popped out a couple of illegitimate kids whose father is in prison, and has generally failed at life.

2.  A girl who has ballooned by about 250 pounds since we broke up and makes me vomit in my mouth every time I run into her.

3.  A girl who I wound up marrying who I legally can't speak badly about.  You'll all just have to trust me on this one.  She is the Antichrist.  My family hates her and for good reason, that of which, again, I can't get into.  She even told me after we got divorced that she knew we'd be divorced before we were even married.  Who DOES that?!?!  I just deleted 3 paragraphs following this on the advise of my attorneys.  I had my son with her, which is the one good thing that came out of this doomed relationship.  I'm hoping that enjoying my first born for the rest of my life will outweigh the fact that I have to deal with utter nonsense for the rest of my life.  The saddest thing is...I really like her family, and I even get along great with her new boyfriend.  I've tried everything possible to get along with her, even killing her with kindness...but it just doesn't seem to be in the cards.  Oh well.

4.  A girl who is 10 years older than I am, lived 60 miles away from me at the time, in cow country, and lost power every time there was a stiff breeze.  Her shitter very rarely worked and I guess the silver lining is that I learned how to flush a toilet by dumping a 2 gallon bucket of water in the bowl and letting gravity do the rest.  She had a chicken coop with a rooster who made it's presence known at the crack of dawn every morning too.  Not good times.

5.  A girl who tortured me for a year with her nightmare of a child and a cat who makes Beezle from "Movie 43" look tame.  It's ok though because I'm pretty sure she is now bulimic or has AIDS.  She has lost so much weight since we broke up that she looks like one of those kids who you can sponsor for only pennies a day.  I actually asked her when I bumped into her recently if she needed me to buy her a cheeseburger or some mayonnaise or something.  Side note:  Do yourself a favor and look up "Beezle" on Youtube if you haven't seen the movie....great fun.

The good thing about all these disastrous relationships, you ask?  I have finally, FINALLY found someone who treats me nicely, with respect...you know, the way that a couple SHOULD treat each other.  A beautiful woman who I can live with without wanting to savagely murder.  Someone who treats me the same way I treat her; with care, nurture, and love.  Someone I'm madly in love with, more so than I have ever been, and she feels the same way.  It's different this time, believe me...I've had enough practice with shit-headed women to know the difference. 

The moral of the story, if you're young, and you think you're in love....there's a pretty good chance you're not.  But do yourself a favor...fuck a bunch of sea-cows.  Kiss some swamp-donkeys.  Date some dumpster fires.  In the long run, it will tell you exactly what NOT to look for in a relationship.

Why take relationship advise from me??  Damned if I know. Honestly, I wouldn't.  But hell, there is a little truth to what I speak of here, is there not?

Anyways, thank you Chloe, for making me the happiest I've ever been, and ever will be.  "Mo chuisle, mo chroi."

Boston, You're My Home

I tried leaving Boston once...it didn't take.  My mom and my sister tried leaving and that didn't work either.  My girlfriend tried to leave Boston.  No dice.  Someone told me once that the only two ways you are born in MA and then leave are you either turn 65 and move to Florida or you die.  Of course it's not that extreme, but there is a sense of home to Bostonians, New Englanders, that is fiercely apparent more so here than probably anywhere else in the world.  

My dad texted me last night and reminded me that he and I were in the exact spot of the bombing recently, and it hit me.  I've been there probably a thousand times.  I've been to several marathons.  I've been training to run one.  We got hit in our very own home, and we as Bostonians, are not ok with that.

We get made fun of a lot.  We get called Massholes, shitty drivers, we talk funny, we make up words, we pronounce half the towns in our state in ridiculous manners, we are addicted to Dunkin' Donuts, we are the fiercest sports fans in the world, we don't recognize the letter "R" unless the next word begins with a vowel.  (True, by the way...if you have the accent....say the following:  "I left the car back at the bar."  Now say:  "I left the car over by the packie."  See!  HA!  You pronounced the "R" in the second sentence didn't you?)  I saw a joke recently that the four seasons of Boston are "Almost Winter, Winter, Still Winter, and Road Construction."  I laughed probably harder because it's very true, rather than the actual humor in the joke. 

When I travel out of town on business, it takes someone less than a second to ask me if I'm from Boston as soon as I speak.  Sometimes, I don't even have to say anything...people just know.  We have a look to us.  A swagger.  A confidence unmatched by anywhere else in the country.  The fact that I just typed this paragraph and am dead serious about it should show you that.  We LOVE that you think our accent is funny, cause guess what?  YOU'RE ACCENT IS FUNNY!! WE WERE HERE FIRST! HA! 

When I first heard and saw the footage of the bombs that were detonated at the finish line on Patriot's Day, (Yup, we even have our very own holiday, just for us), I got scared.  I thought of friends that were running and possibly there.  I wanted information and to know everyone I knew was safe.  Then I got sad, knowing how many people were affected, all those who were injured and the 3 who lost their lives.  Then, I got mad.  Who did this?  Why?  String them up in the Common for us all to stone and torture and kill.  THEN, I became proud.  The posts came flooding over Facebook.  The President spoke of the toughness of Bostonians.  Late night comedians, famous actors, sports figures from all over the country spoke of our great town and Commonwealth.  The word "tough" and "resolved" came up almost everywhere.  "Boston Strong."  "You Fucked With The Wrong City."  These rallies could be heard and seen on every Facebook page and emails and tweets.

Boston is the cradle of the American Revolution.  This is where the war of our freedom began over 200 years ago.  If it weren't for the Patriots for which the holiday was named, we may very well be drinking afternoon tea every day and our national anthem may sound very, very different...We have such a proud past, and instead of this being a dark time in our history, what I'll remember most, aside of course those who were lost, is the image of the first responders rushing towards a FUCKING EXPLOSION TO HELP COMPLETE STRANGERS!  Are you kidding me?  That's how we do it here.  You can call us Massholes all you want, but when the shit hits the fan, there is NOWHERE I would rather be.

Sports is always a soothing normalcy that reminds us of who we are and allows us to turn to something familiar for peace and comfort.  This was true after 9/11, and Sandy Hook, and it is now.  All across the Nation, the thoughts in baseball stadiums, hockey rinks, and basketball courts were on our town.  "Sweet Caroline" was played in several major league baseball stadiums.  It was played in YANKEE STADIUM!  Just as we were there for them, they are here for us.  The Chicago Tribune paid tribute to our sports teams on the back page on 4/16....look it up. Pretty awesome. 

We're all just Americans when it comes down to it, during times like this, and until the end of all things.  San Diego, CA to Wichita, KS to New York, NY, to my home, where the dirty water flows as much as the Sam Adams beer, Boston, MA.  The toughest motherfucking city on this planet.  Just ask the sumbitch or organization who is about to be caught for this atrocious act.  They will feel the full weight of every Bostonian's anger and sense of justice.

Renee Rancourt sings the National Anthem before every Boston Bruins home game.  He didn't make it too far into it last night...the 18,000 fans drowned him out after about 3 lines and he just stopped singing into the microphone and encouraged the masses, letting the crowd take over with a resounding, clear, thunderously loud version of our anthem that rose in a cacophony so immense that it shook the Garden and brought several people in the stands to tears.  Anyone watching and listening become immediately covered in goose bumps.  When they were done, "USA" chants began and American flags were waved throughout the crowd. 

You can punch us, you can stagger us....shit, you might even knock us down once or twice.  But we'll get up.  Every. Single. Time.  It's told in the history books and the stories of the Herald and the Globe....and in the faces of our citizens.  We won't be terrorized.  Whoever detonated those bombs made the biggest mistake of their lives.  They stirred up a hornet's nest while accomplishing NOTHING for their "cause."

Why am I so confident about this?  Cause I'm from Boston, born from Dorchester where my father grew up and his father before him.  And that's just how we are.  Boston, you're my home, and you always will be.  See you at the finish line of the Boston Marathon, Patriots Day, 2014.  I'll be there with thousands of others....just like it will be until the end of days. 

Dorothy Mantooth Is a Saint!

Good evening,

For those who might not know me, I'm Kevin Garrigan, Anne's oldest son.

People sometimes have to make up nice things to say after someone passes away.  That won't be the case tonight.  It's very easy to truthfully say good things about Anne Marie Francis.

Though my mom left us far too early, I could not be happier with the constant gift of her presence while she was with us.  Her 54 years were too few, but the amount of living she did while with us was enough to fill several lifetimes.

The four of us kids could not have asked for a better mother.  She did such a great job raising us in a happy home.  Katie, Mike, Shauna and myself didn't make it easy on her by any means, but somehow she managed to raise 4 sometimes out of control kids and teenagers into 4 relatively well-adjusted adults.  There was no better Grammy to her 3 grandchildren.  Her face lit up and her joy was evident when she spent time watching Keegan and Brooke play; and of course the few precious months she got to spend with baby Colby were truly a gift. 

She had a way of putting a positive spin on most things, and would always be there to lend an ear and offer sage advise....I know I myself needed a lot of it.  I will miss our talks terribly.  Mom never wanted to put anybody out of their way.  In her eyes, it would always be better to give than to receive, better to love than to be loved, and especially better to be concerned for others than have others be concerned for her.  This of course drove us all crazy at times, because we have so much love for her and wanted to help her as much as possible.  None of us wanted her to fight this fight alone, and despite her best efforts, we weren't about to leave her side.  She was stubborn, but very well aware of the love that so many had for her.  She didn't have an enemy in the world.  If you were lucky enough to spend any significant time with my mom, you definitely knew that you were around a special person.  Whether she made you belly-laugh by telling stories about her youth and causing trouble for her parents and siblings, or offered soothing comfort after you had a bad day, there was just something about her that made you leave her feeling good.

I remember one time when I was about 10 years old, I decided to add laundry detergent to the washing machine after my mom had put a load in...probably like half a container or so.  It didn't take long for an endless stream of bubbles to start pouring out of the washer and all over the floor of the basement.  I did what most 10 year olds would probably do and ran upstairs to my room and denied it to the bitter end when mom started screaming at me.  I was the only one there, so I wasn't sure who I was trying to fool.  So after really letting me have it, eventually my mom "asked" me to come down to the basement and help her clean.  "Ok, but I didn't do it mom."  She said fine and we both went down to the basement to clean up the mess.  After about 5 minutes of silent cleaning, knowing that she was furious, I told her, "mom, I did put the extra detergent in there, I thought I was helping."  She told me, "No shit Kevin."  When she saw how guilty I was, she started laughing.  I'll never forget her face.  I couldn't believe it.  I figured at the time that I really messed up, not fully understanding that it wasn't the end of the world, because I didn't know any better...until my mom laughed at me.  She gave me a hug and we finished cleaning up the mess.  I probably had a hundred different fights with my mom when I was a teenager, but I always remembered that no matter how bad I screwed up, my mom loved me and we'd eventually be able to laugh about it, which we very frequently did, the older I got.

My mom was a true believer that being a good person and doing good things would come back around to you in some type of Karmic circle.  These are values that I live my life by and that I instill into my son, niece, and nephew.  I think my siblings will agree with this.  She knew that if she lived a good life, that when the day came when she had to leave us, she would be in a good place and with her lost loved ones.  I like to think that she's in that place know, breathing deeply and easily, and having a good laugh with her parents, her boyfriend Bob, and other loved ones around the dinner table.  I know that if I continue to follow my mom's core values, that I'll join her one day around that table.  It gives me peace to know that when I leave this world, I'll have the most special, strong, good-hearted, nurturing woman that I have ever known, waiting for me with a big hug, and a kind word.

I love you mom.  I'll miss you...and as you would tell me every time we parted, with a series of kisses on the forehead: Goodnight, God bless you, I love you, see you in the morning.

Thank you all for coming.  We are so lucky to have such great friends and family.  The outpouring of love shown by you over the last two weeks has been palpable, and something that the 4 of us will never forget.

The Fall of an Empire

"Will you help us catch Pluto's super duper bouncy ball?" No current asshole Mickey from the shitty "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse"....I want to go fly fishing with you and Goofy and watch Goofy get his mouth caught by a fishhook....or watch Donald Duck play hockey with his nephews and watch his nephews fuck with him. I HATE CURRENT SHITTY DISNEY MICKEY!!! I WANT THE OLD ONE BACK!!!  20th Century Mickey is what made our childhood entertainment so wonderful.  Every kid wanted to go to Disney World....

The movies and the cartoons from when I was a kid, such epics like The Lion King, Alladin, Beauty and the Beast, Peter Pan, Lady and the Tramp, The Mickey Mouse Show, Duck Tales.  Sure, sometimes there would be an epic battle at the end of those movies between good and evil.  Isn't that "lesson learned" enough for a cartoon?  Do the cartoons of today need to teach kids colors and how to count?  That's what school and daycare is for you dumb fucks!  Steamboat Willie is more entertaining then the crap they put on today.   Jake and the Neverland Pirates??  Back in the day Captain Hook would be trying to put his hook in Peter Pan's jugular...now all he does is basically cry about 3 kids who keep outsmarting him over and over again while calling them "Puny Pirates."  I feel sick sometimes watching this garbage.  Chip and Dale were just playing with a bouncy ball....are you kidding? Chip and Dale would be plotting how to steal the ball and fuck shit up in the old days.....now the closest thing the Mickey Mouse show has to a villain is Pete, who basically just helps the rest of these morons count. Hey Disney Channel, our kids are educated just fine, it's called SCHOOL YOU CHILDHOOD RUINING FUN STOMPING ASSHOLES!!!

And I HAVE to watch these cartoons and pretend they're awesome, because my 3 year old loves them....and only because it's not a choice, it's a lack of options. Sure, I could change it to Spongebob on Nick, but then I would be forced to murder myself after about 5 minutes.  I'd love to hold Spongebob under fresh water...let's see if he can make my eardrums bleed after THAT!

Back to Disney....every conflict in every story is resolved in a friendly, soft resolution with absolutely no climax...it's storytelling 101.  Wile E. Coyote and the Roadrunner never had that problem.  Sure, you knew a safe would fall on the coyote's head or he would launch himself into a mountain...but even though you knew he'd always lose, at LEAST there would be a resolution to the story.  Triumph and failure. Good overcoming Evil.  Tom and Jerry?  Jerry always outsmarted Tom and Tom would wind up getting a bomb in his face or something like that.   You know why that happened?  Because Tom tried to EAT Jerry.  What would YOU do?  Once again, good triumphing over evil.  How can this be a BAD lesson? 

The only good thing about the Disney Channel these days are the Disney Shorts when they play classic stuff for like 3 minutes between the shitty shows they have on; except they make sure they cut anything remotely violent out of them...Gawd forbid anyone sees anything that is CLEARLY fake violence. My son is 3 and he knows damn well that when Simba and Scar are fighting at the end of Lion King it's FUCKING MAKE BELIEVE!!!! It's a cartoon for chrissakes!!!  It's not like he goes to the zoo and expects an epic battle between the lions in a pit full of fire while other lions fight against hyenas.

Here's an idea...just a small thought.  Be a good parent!!!!!!  TEACH your kids good from bad.  If you let the T.V. teach your son about violence....scratch that.  If you let the T.V. or movies or video games teach your kids ANYTHING.  You ARE a bad parent.  It's very simple.  Instill good values in your children, let them know that what they see on T.V. isn't real, and there you go.  Your kid will grow up just fine.  YOU are your kids biggest idol, not fake-ass Mickey Mouse OR Scar from the Lion King.  Their parents are their role models, and they WILL listen to you, (or they should be institutionalized.)  I'm not saying kids are perfect throughout their elementary years and teenage years, but if you parent them, they will share your values.  If you let them just do whatever you want, they'll probably end up as assholes.  Tell them about condoms, it's ok.  Don't let them stay up late.  Tell them about how drugs and alcohol are very bad.  Encourage them to play sports or dance and socialize and follow their dreams.  This isn't fucking Dr. Phil shit, it's common sense.  There are too many shitty parents out there, and corporations....EMPIRES like Disney are crumbling beneath our feet because they don't want to be responsible for the demise of the human race.  Give me a break.

Or better yet, give me back the Roadrunner, Tom, Jerry, and Simba.

Happy New Year Vinny

I feel great.  I haven't lately, but I do right now.  Circumstances have come into play that have put a lot of things in perspective for me.  Is it worth it to get hung up on one person, any person, when there are so many people and things that make me happy?  I wear my heart on my sleeve a lot of the time. I get sad, and I let people know about it.  I decided just now that I'm done with it, all of it. 

I have a lot going on.  My son makes me so happy it's ridiculous.  The more he learns and the clearer he speaks and the more questions he asks and the way his eyes brighten when he figures something out and the way he says, "I can do it all by myself Daddy."  I'm a good dad....a great dad.  I'm an uncle, recently for the second time.  I thought to myself, "How can I possibly bitch about anything when I have these beautiful kids in my life and such great friends and such a close family." 

Most of all, I recently went through a breakup, and got all sad about it, and wanted her back.  Why?  I was lied to.  I got shit on, and I wanted her back?  Nah dude.  Done with it.  I can do better, and I will.

And maybe it won't be for a while...and that's ok too.  I can do me for a bit.  (Not that way you fucking sickos.)  I have another surgery this week, and I won't be putting anything up for a bit.  But when I come back, it will be with a vengeance.  Watch out everyone, here comes Vinny Mac. I'm killing it at work, I'm going to take a writing class so these posts don't suck so much,  I'm gonna get published at some point.  I'm gonna travel to California.  I'm going to the gym all the time when my elbow is healed...first to rehab it, and then to feel good, and look healthy.  By the summer, I'm going to be back all the way. 

I have so much going for me, even if I don't see it sometimes.  I'm going to make the most of this life instead of just gliding through it.

Doubt me.

I'm Glad the World Didn't End Because....

I have only had one threesome, and it wasn't with hot twins.

Brady hasn't won 5 Superbowls yet.

The Cubs haven't won a World Series in forever and I feel bad for Chicago.

I do not yet own my own company.

My oldest is only 3, and that would have been weak to not see him grow.

I haven't had sex in several weeks, and I would not have wanted to go out like that.

I haven't written a book.

We won't have had our first New Years Eve without Dick Clark drooling on himself.  (Poor Dick Clark, by the way.  Who is the asshole who wheeled him out there the last couple years when he was practically already a corpse?)

I spent too much on Christmas presents for them to have gone to waste.

I'm kinda looking forward to seeing that new Paul Rudd movie.

I'm in the middle of Assassin's Creed III on Xbox and haven't had a chance to beat it yet.

Massachusetts has deemed me a danger to society and is therefore requiring me to take an 8 hour driver retraining class.  I would have surely hated to miss that.

I haven't had a threesome with hot twins.

If I live to be past 60, it would have deprived either dozens of women from being with me once, or just a few women being with me many times.  Either way, what a waste....

I haven't been across the Atlantic, specifically to Ireland.

I'm only ONE car accident away from being renamed "Crash."

I haven't choked out the three people on my list of people I want to choke out.

I would have died without my elbow being surgically repaired, (again) and finally being healed.

I haven't had a threesome with hot twins.

And you know what, screw you Mayans, we win!!  Boom!

Shaken to my Core by Newtown, Connecticut

The massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, CT seems to me like the worst case of senseless murder I've ever seen, and in my opinion, one of the worst in the history of mankind.  Don't be a fucking jerkoff and say I'm being insensitive to the victims of Pearl Harbor, 9/11, the Holocaust and the Oklahoma City bombing, for examples.  In those cases, there was an agenda.  Don't say, "Vinny, what the fuck about the Holocaust?"  Of COURSE that is one of the most horrible things that has happened in the history of mankind.  In those specific cases, which I'll use as examples, there was at least a reason.  The reasons were albeit military or completely insane ones conjured up by the minds of madmen, but there were reasons, nonetheless, for those acts.  Those examples were horrific in their own rights.  A disturbed little fuckface smashing through the locked door of an elementary school, shooting his way to a 1st grade classroom, and murdering children, who have barely had a chance to live, is the worst case of evil I can ever begin to think of.  I keep trying, without success, to wrap my head around it all.  I can't fathom the insanity of someone deliberately shooting and killing ONE seven year old.  Multiply that by 20.  Of course those aforementioned examples had body counts thousands more than what happened in Newtown.  They were also carried out by the order of faceless cowards.  In Newtown, this "man" looked into the eyes of young children and deliberately ended their lives, far sooner than they should have been ended.  It was deliberate, and needless.  There is no reason that can convince me that these innocent little children were taken from us.  The details aren't out as to exactly how the final seconds of those poor souls played out, but this is a fact:  The shooter was a remorseless coward.  As destroyed as his brain must have been to carry out such an act, it remained that way after the first child fell...after the second.....the third.  And he kept going.  Why?  That's the cliche question, but really, WHY?  Nobody on this world will ever be able to understand or wrap their heads around how this could happen.  The worst kinds of questions are the ones that have no answers.  The most frustrating outcomes to any situation, are the situations that if they were to somehow occur 100 times, they would be surreal and unfathomable all 100 times.  Why didn't this animal just go out into the woods and end his pathetic life on his own without ruining the lives of the victims, their families, their friends, their community, state, country, planet.

I can't imagine, or maybe I don't want to, the thought of the first responders who were forced to witness the carnage of the aftermath for the first time, but carrying out their jobs regardless.  How will they ever be the same after seeing that?  How will they remove the images of the still bodies of the departed children.  I don't even want to think of what the scene looked like.  These heroes battled through a sight worse than a battlefield in a war fought by men.  These were children, and my bet is that some of them had children the same age, or close to it.  What about the surviving teachers doing their best to keep their children calm, somehow finding the courage to lead the surviving children from the building while trying to keep their eyes covered, blinding them when possible to what had happened to their classmates and friends?  How did they compose themselves and think to do this when they themselves HAD to have felt pure terror.  Learning that they huddled with their students and kept them as calm as possible while shots rang out just feet away from where they were must have been the hardest thing they have ever or will ever have to do.  The bravery of the school's principal and the teachers who gave their lives, making the ultimate sacrifice, in valiant attempts to minimize the death toll that was to be carried out by a cowardly maniac is an incredible story.  I can't help but marvel at these tiny shimmers of light in what was ultimately one of the darkest days in the history of the human race.

Is there a link between acts of violence and being immortalized by having your name in a history book?  Did Hitler do what he did to have his name be remembered as one of the most feared of all time?  How many parents have named their sons Adolf since the late 1930's?  Did Osama Bin Laden's hatred for the western world cause him to carry out the worst attack on American soil in U.S. history?  Or was it for the "recognition."  What about Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris during the Columbine shooting?  What if the media doesn't give out the name of the shooters when these events take place?  Would that tiny thought in an otherwise destroyed brain prevent said person from taking out so many with him?  Does Columbine take place if those two knew for a fact nobody would know who they were?  David Koresh?  Marshall Applewhite?  Madmen who convinced people to kill themselves through brainwashing.  Did they have conviction in their beliefs, or did they just want to be remembered forever for something evil because they didn't have anything else going for them.  The Columbine shooters were two talentless fucks who would have never amounted to anything, and thus would never have been remembered when they were gone....unless.....

Would the fact that if "he" knew he wasn't going to be immortalized be the difference between him killing 26 people and himself just walking into the woods after killing his mother and just quietly off himself with one shot to his own head? Could it be that simple?  Am I trying to come up with an impossible idea to an answerless question?  Is society's need for information fueling these kids to commit these acts?  Is there any way to give information about the shooter, which is fair, while at the same time calling him John Doe?  It's not possible in today's world of social media and rival news outlets, of course.  It's just not feasible for something like this to be done, even if it would make any kind of difference.  Even if it would mean the difference between a murder suicide and a legit mass murder.

Call me one of those parents that thinks a tragedy involving young children affects me more than someone without kids. I used to HATE that. Who are you to think it affects you more than me because I don't have kids? That was my thinking, circa late 2001. But you know what? It absolutely DOES affect people with children more. That's my opinion of course, and feel free to disagree, but I've lived through horrible, senseless tragedy's and I have been much more rattled since having kids. The slaughter of 20 1st graders last week shook me to my core. And no, you can't QUITE understand the feeling if you don't have kids of your own. You can be 99.9% as upset as someone with kids, but not that .1% that parents feel. It's just an instinct your body has once there is another human being on this planet that you created, whose blood is your own. As president Obama put it, and I'm paraphrasing him, when you have a baby, it's like a piece of your heart is put out into the world, exposed, and constantly growing farther apart from you. Their comes a point where you can't be with your child every step of the way...every minute and every place you go.

Out of all of this, I'll try to end with a positive, somehow.  Everyone already knows about the heroism of police, firefighters, military...those men and women go without saying.  But there are heroes in this world that often times get overlooked.  Teachers are incredible. You have to be a special kind of person to do that job.  These people make it their livelyhood, their profession to not only instill knowledge into young minds, but to be responsible FIVE out of seven days for the children of total strangers. We put our trust in these men and women. When you hear about the acts of heroism of teachers faced with valuing the lives of children, who aren't even their own blood, over their own lives, brings me a measure of hope that at least we have good people on our side when these things happen. We're forced in this world to trust others to take care of the ones we love. We can't be with our kids 100% of the time.  If I could, I would.  It's not possible.  We have to make a living to put a house over their heads and food on their tables.  When you send your child to school, you're putting your trust in the educators responsible for not only their education, but their general well being and care. Hearing the stories of the brave principle and teachers at Sandy Hook who made the ultimate sacrifices in attempts to minimize the death toll is an incredible story to me, a shimmer of light in the darkest of days.  It makes me feel better when I send my son to school, knowing that teachers are a special breed of people who would put themselves between a madman with a gun and the children they've been charged to protect. The bravery of those people should not be forgotten in the shuffle and the sadness that ultimately defines this story.  It won't be for me, at least.  I hope others will feel the same.

I don't care how old he grows to be before my time on this planet is done, the last words my son will hear from me whenever we part for the day, whether it's tomorrow when I drop him off at school, when I put him to bed, when I put him on the bus for school, when he gets on a plane for spring break, when I say goodbye as he leaves for his honeymoon, or 40 years from now when I hang up the phone after asking how his kids are doing, will be, "I love you."