Rage Against the Meshugenah
I must preface this entry by revealing that I agreed to stay home alone with the kids last night so my wife (my WIFE!) (as in “female”) could go to a professional hockey game (a rematch of last year’s Stanley Cup Finals!) with her friend. Can you even imagine a scenario so absurd?! I’ve spent all morning trying to visualize a reversed-role equivalent to a sacrifice so unfathomable, but the best I’ve been able to conjure is Hot Wife hanging with the kids so I could accompany a buddy to an afternoon tea party at Chez Foofiefuffle.
It’s not the sacrifice that mortifies me. I’ve been married long enough to know that sometimes you have to “take one for the team” in order to maintain peace, harmony and an acceptable level of carnal engagement. But I think we can agree that this is beyond the pale. Can we do that? Can we agree that what I did was less like diving on a grenade than it was like sticking a cruise missile up my butt so that my spouse could go to the Ducks game and call Daniel Alfredsson a pansy-ass douchebag (which he is) (because he pulled this crap) to his face?
Lest I be labeled an ingrate, I will stipulate that my wife, in her inimitable grace and charm and beauty, has made sacrifices for me on a regular basis for the past 15 years (not the least of which was agreeing to lower her standards far enough to marry me).
It’s just that I really NEEDED hockey last night. I needed to scream at someone for being a prick, not necessarily because he IS one, but because I needed to blow off the steam that has built over the fact that I can’t think of a name for my book. My, ahem, “literary representative”, who has essentially taught me how to write and endured almost-daily panicked calls from me, requests that I not unveil too much detail about this subject because editors may be reading the blog and we wouldn’t want them to know how completely fucked in the head I am over this issue. But I feel comfortable showing you, my trusted and loyal readers, a glimpse into the names that have been tried on for size and very quickly discarded for the sake of my dignity:
• When Nice Jewish Boys Attack
• Better Living Through Porn
• The Secret Lives of Guys With Big Noses
• This One Time, At Jew Camp
• Rage Against the Meshugenah
• Dude, Where’s My Blog?
So yeah: I needed some hockey last night.
P.S. -- Suck it, Alfie.
I have lost all respect for you as a man.
Because you're a Ducks fan.
What's a "Teemu" anyway?
Suggestion:
"Risking Priapism: A Memoir."
It must be This one time, at Jew Camp. MUST. ALthough Rage against the Meshugenah is probably a ticket to a better seller.
"Suck it, Alfie"
I'd buy that... ;-)
Come on over and be a Blue Jackets fan. They give you ample opportunities for yelling obscene things.
I heard Chez Foofiefuffle has great scones.
You are overlooking the obvious.....why not just title your book Dad Gone Mad! That is what drew me to the blog to begin with.
"why not just title your book Dad Gone Mad!"
I'll tell you why not. Because he knows I'd sue his ass for a huge chunk of the cash.
Danny, have you seen the Zidane movie? That might help.
xo.
I take it that by "hockey" you mean "ice hockey". A sport in only the loosest sense of the word, as in so many of your colonial pastimes. You should be grateful if your wife manages to break your addiction to this woeful spectacle. It is probably too late for you. You have probably heard of none of Joe Rokocoko, Mohendra Singh Dhoni or Michael Carrick.
Stick at staying home with your children - don't go out with them to save them embarrassment.
I would be all over a copy of your book and the title possibilities are endless.
Two of my ideas that are ok:
Ponderings from Schtootgart
Hot Wife and the Meshugenah
Three of yours that I love:
Live By The Turtle, Die By The Turtle
Children of a Lesser Dad
Pwned
"Dad Gone Mad"--honestly the best choice by far. Wondersis can show her generosity by allowing it, I'm sure.
you should definitely make titling your book a contest, like dooce did with her mast head.
Why?
Because I'm a poor college student, and where else am I going to get free shit, if not off the shoulders of bloggers?
Love,
Me
You're writing a book? You mean this isn't your best material?
Damn. I'm gonna need to read that book.
Unless this is your best material.
I'll still have to read the book to find out.
Very shrewd salesmanship.
"Meshugenah Dad" has a nice ring to it.
I really like "Rage Against the Meshugenah."
This is the first time in 13 years of marriage (actually, probably the first season of our entire lives) in which my husband has attended more hockey games than I have. It's not that he's not manly or anything, it's just that I've been addicted to the sport since long before he even saw his first game.
Why not
Dad Gone Mad: Don't Eat the Peas
Like used to be at the top of the blog?
What about Living through porn at Jew Camp. There were many times at overnight Jew Camp that would have been more fun if there was born to read...
Clearly the Ducks need to call up the Hansen brothers and play some old time hockey!
Teemu means "Our team is better than yours" in Finnish.
As for a book title... "There's no rent in parent."
Joe
I *heart* "Rage Against the Meshugena". Too good.
ALFIE IS A GOLDEN GOD!!!
OMG I am not able to breathe I am laughing so hard. STOP!