Friday, October 9, 2009

Kenny Rogers...

It’s 8:40am and I’m writing this on my commute to work.

There are three dudes on my train that look like Kenny Rogers. I’m pretty sure one of them is the real Kenny Rogers. There is also one man that is a dead ringer for Ben Kingsley. I’m pretty sure it’s not the actual Ben Kingsley though. This guy looks more like Ben Kingsley as Gandhi and I’m almost positive that Mr. Kingsley wore makeup in that film to look more like Gandhi. I can’t be sure though because I’ve never researched the production of the film.

There is also a woman on my train that looks like Maude. I know for a fact that she’s not the real Maude. I was and still am a huge B. Arthur fan and I know she has recently passed. May she rest in peace. She seemed like a tremendous woman.

The man directly to the right of me is really creepy looking. I’m not sure what a pedophile looks like but if this were a movie, he’d probably be playing the pedophile. Thank God I’m not a child and that this isn’t a movie. What’s even creepier is that we’re both on our laptops and we are both wearing cheap looking mirrored sunglasses. People must think we’re brothers. I hope they don’t think that I’m a pedophile too. Shit! Hold on. He’s looking at me. I think he knows I’m writing about him. OK, I just took off my sunglasses. Now he’ll think I have nothing to hide and no one will think we’re twins of the pedophile variety.

I wonder if I’m the first Dad Blogger to ever use the word Pedophile five times in a post. This can’t be a good thing. I hope there are no awards for that. That would be a dubious distinction.

“And the award for most usage of the word Pedophile in a Daddy Blog goes to…”


There is no applause. The crowd is silent. You can hear the crickets even though the awards ceremony is taking place indoors. Perhaps the windows are open. If I had to guess, I would say those are actually Cicadas and not crickets. Not a huge Jon Secada fan.

I just did a spell check on this post and Gandhi was spelled incorrectly. I’m embarrassed for myself. He was such a great man. So altruistic. I should know how to spell his name. I’m sorry Mr. Gandhi for bringing shame upon you. I will never, ever forget the correct spelling of thy name again. But you know who should be even more ashamed? The fucking spell check programmer guy. The correct spelling of Gandhi wasn’t even the first choice. It was Handy. That’s messed up. I’m embarrassed for him because he knew how to spell Gandhi’s name but he didn’t think Mr. Gandhi was important enough to make him more of a priority than the word Handy. Bastard Red Tape. There’s always politics involved at every level. It’s impossible to avoid the bureaucratic bullshit. I’m appalled.

I wonder if I start humming “She Believes In Me”, the real Kenny Rogers will look up at me. Give me some sort of sign.


Today on the train I am surrounded, no, I am Out-Numbered by Kenny Rogers’s imposters. Bastards!

Fatherhood Friday at Dad Blogs