I chose to write for a living in spite of my parents’ contention that I’d make a perfect rabbi, and the past two decades have confirmed the wisdom of my decision. Had I made the opposite choice I would not have experienced ejection from a Major League clubhouse by a Hall of Fame manager wearing nothing but a scowl. I would have missed a Denver omelet breakfast with Tiger Woods, a terrifying stare-down with a Nazi hunter, four magazine cover stories, a rejection letter that included the word “putz”, and a call from an associate editor at a popular national magazine declaring that she loved my idea but, umm, my writing? Feh!

I graduated from Fresno State University in 1993 with a bachelor’s degree in journalism, which is about as valuable and meaningful as having a degree in sticking your thumb up your ass. I spent the mind-numbing year after graduation as high school sports editor for a non-descript little newspaper in the Mojave Desert, where you ain’t no one if you ain’t got a criminal record, a pregnant teenage girlfriend and a meth lab in yer gay-rodge. I summarily jettisoned my newspaper job after one year and ran for my life. I’ve spent every year since in the advertising industry, writing ad copy for (among other products) hazelnut-flavored coffee creamer, those wireless headsets with the flashing blue light, and “urinal burgers” (the little pink antiseptic discs used in high-traffic men’s rooms) (which never work) (because they can’t possibly quell the odor of all that pee on the floor).

While working for a Fortune 500 HMO in late 2004, I started Dad Gone Mad, in part because I needed a distraction from the monotonous written regurgitations of Medical Necessities Your Health Insurer Won’t Cover Because Our Stakeholders Need New Yachts And Frankly We Don’t Give Half A Shit About Your Perforated Colon. To my pleasant surprise, Dad Gone Mad has won national recognition (St. Louis Post Dispatch Blog of the Day for June 12, 2007 -- need I say more?) and has earned me the opportunity to dither-on in public on Sirius Satellite Radio, Jumping Monkeys, and at SXSW 2007.

I have been a contributing writer and general scatological nuisance to Babble.com, Disney’s Family.com and the now-defunct Snarkywood.com. My words, many of them four-lettered, have soiled the pages of Good Housekeeping, Details (about 15 characters worth), Men’s Health (the aforementioned “here’s $75 to make you go away”), Southwest Airlines Spirit, Orange Coast Magazine, OC Weekly, the Los Angeles Daily News, the official game programs of the Anaheim Ducks and Anaheim Angels, and Tall Magazine (yes, there is such a thing -- correction: was such a thing).

If you feel like saying hello, I'm chillin' at dadgonemad ["at" symbol] gmail ["dot" symbol] com.