Toy Stories

One very cool thing about having a son is that I get to play with all the toys that I used to covet when I was a youngster. And unlike the grown-up toy geeks who just look creepy buying up all the Target exclusive Star Wars playsets when they come out, I can roll down the aisle, head held high, looking like a normal well-adjusted adult while I fill my cart full of action figure euphoria because I am getting them for my son (just ignore the spittle forming around the sides of my mouth as I explain in detail to Fury the subtle differences between the new Hoth Snowspeeder and the original Kenner version of my youth).

Another cool thing I get to do as Fury's dad is to actually play with these toys -- and observe him as he improvises smack-talk between 4-inch plastic combatants. In fact, everything that comes out of his mouth when we're playing with toys is the stuff dad-blog posts are made of. Lucky me. Some of my recent favorites:

This particular Lego build took me an entire three days:

Which is why remembering this little exchange still makes me cringe:

(From next room) "Hey, Fury. That Star Destroyer still in one piece?"

"Yup... *crack* I mean two...*crack* I mean three..."

I also remember the time he really impressed me with his creativity.

"Wow, Fury! Did you make this yourself?"

But there's also something to be said about his honesty:

"Nah, I broke it myself."

I don't know about you, but when I was a kid, action figure scenarios were all about good vs. evil. I guess today's kids subscribe to kinder, gentler, Spring breakier fantasies.

"Look, dad! It's the Star Wars Party Truck!"

I think I bring my work home a little too often. Because this is the kind of tour Fury gave me when he recently set up his Playmobil Pirate Island playset:

"This is where the secret cave entrance is, and here is where you hide the treasure. And the cannons are right here to protect the fort. And in the back here... is the conference room."

Because it is imperative that today's pirate know his "Three P's" - Plundering, Pillaging and PowerPoint.

And mash-ups? You may think that these are a "Web 2.0" phenomenon, but really it's a "Kid 1.0" thing:

Today's superhero is one part Bionicle, one part Spiderman, one part Ben 10, one part Superman, one part Darth Vader, one part Yoda, one part The Children's Place, one part Nacho Libre and ten parts awesome.

When I was a kid, I remember playing with Tonka trucks and Matchbox cars in the same scenario, despite the fact that they weren't to equivalent scale (being able to pile 10 sedans into the bed of a single pickup truck kind of clues you in on that). When did kids get all up in arms about compatibility? I blame Windows Vista.

"Fury, how's this for a cool motorcycle!"

"Dad, you can't do that. You mixed a Mega Bloks gun with a Lego motorcycle!"

"What?"

"Dad, you would go to jail for that. Well, in some states. You're lucky California is a free state."

"OhmygodIhavetoblogthat."

And finally, it's nice to know that my kid can distinguish the really important life skills in today's world:

"Dad, this Bionicle has a throwing knife, thundersword, shark knife, superswords, small and large claws, energy sword, thunderblade, spinning blade, spinning hook, swinging glass breaker, energy shooter, super zapper, strike claw, 3-handled razor-sharp knife, stickblade, crab blasters, infected masks, canyon crusher, ice wall crusher, superbomb, machine blaster, pickup and drop, remake life power, lasers, poison out of their mouth, ultrakick, superkick... and he's a really good dancer."

 

It must be nice to know that you have a fallback career in case saving Mata Nui from the clutches of the evil Makuta doesn't really pan out.

Now you know why we've got a playroom that used to be a garage, stacked floor-to-ceiling with toys. They inspire me to write, while doing less damage to my liver.

How to Completely Remodel Your Home in 30 days and 12 Easy Steps

As some of you may know, my house recently underwent a total makeover. Whenever people see my house, they always ask "how long did it take?" And then I say "one month," and then they laugh. And then I laugh and we move onto other subjects. It's not worth explaining. But here on my blog, I've got time. So I'm going to explain step-by-step how to remodel your entire house in 30 days.

I'm also going to give away a $100 Home Depot gift card. You know, happy father's day, bribing my readers to leave comments, buying your affections and all that...

Step 1

Move your family to a new city and find the cheapest gas station in town. Fill up twice a week because you have a crazy ass gas guzzling truck that only gets 6 mpg. Bitch constantly to the owner of that gas station about having to fill your tank up twice a week. But since you have a 34 gal. tank and your twice-a-week fillups pretty much cover the rent for his station, he's really cool with you.

Step 2

And because filling up your tank takes about 2 hours at a time, you end up spending lots of quality time at this gas station, just talking about random stuff with this guy. Pretty soon, you find out he's exactly your age, and knows a lot more about lead generation, sales channel management, ROI, Powerpoint and Excel than your average dude who works at a gas station. Turns out, he is a disillusioned corporate refugee who one day just said "Frick this crap. I'm going to open a gas station." And just did it. At around the same time, he finds out you work in the field of online marketing. "Hmm..." he thinks.

Step 3

One day while you are hanging out at the station, Toheed (it's too tiring to type "gas station dude" over and over) casually brings up the online marketing thing, and asks if he can pick your brain about something. But he gets as far as "I wanna sell fish..." before I freak out. "FISH! I LOVE FISH! I am a total fish nerd. Let's DO this!" And we just did it. That was the genesis of OceanPets.com (the site is still up, but the business is defunct - keep reading).

Step 4

Get $800 worth of sales just a couple days after launching the site. Which means you drive your 6 mpg truck to the fish wholesalers near LAX (Los Angeles International Airport) to fulfill orders each day and do it like the big boys -- in special styrofoam containers, pumped oxygen and ice/heat packs (depending on the region to which you're overnighting your tropical fish). Start generating sales of $2,000 per day before long. But then you realize why only the big boys ship live fish: DHL and FedEx often (VERY often) deliver to the wrong address, lose packages and run into storms. All of which does not fare well with Nemo and Dori who are sitting in a plastic bag that only has enough oxygen for a 24 hour trip. And unless you are a big boy with lots of money in reserve, you simply cannot re-fulfill the order, plus pay again to ship it (out of your own pocket) while you wait 6-8 weeks for DHL and FedEx to "review" your loss claim and ask for evidence that the shipment has been damaged. Um, how about "turns out the fish I delivered has ceased to be. It is bereft of life. It is an EX-FISH!" (bonus fish for you if you got that reference).

Step 5

Before calling it quits on the fish business, you insightfully conclude one day that 1) people like to buy live fish 2) it is futile to try to ship fish 3) Toheed has all this empty space inside his gas station 4) you can fit about 23 fish tanks in here with the proper rack set-up 5) you're here all the time anyway 6) the slogan "Fill Your Tank" is the perfect catchy phrase for a gas station/tropical fish store 8) Petroleum products and aquatic life can co-exist, Exxon Valdez notwithstanding.

Step 6

Sell 6 fish in 6 months out of the gas station. Craigslist all the fish tanks. Dust ourselves off and decide with Toheed to sell something less alive through the internet. That was the genesis of Silverguys.com. Let's just say I have a very nice ziploc bag in the closet with all kinds of silver jewelry in it. None of which has been sold. Talk to me, my friend. I give you best price.

Step 7

Go back to your day jobs and stick to what you're good at. Which in me and Toheed's case is being the real-life "Harold and Kumar" wherever we go.

Step 8

Go back to the corporate grind while Toheed buys a smog station in Sacramento. And tries to remodel it. But then is told by the city that he cannot hire any crews to do it unless he goes through a general contractor. So in genuine Toheed style, what does he do? He takes the general contractor's license exam and passes it. Since he now has his license, he throws a couple ads up on Craigslist to see what happens. He lands a ton of jobs and pretty soon he's bringing in more money than selling gas has ever brought. A year later, he brings me in to help him do sales and business development.

Step 9

Not knowing jack about construction, I buy a book and attend a few tradeshows. But Toheed teaches me that that your ability to put a real proposal together, use a spreadsheet and speak English far outweighs any knowledge of construction when you're selling commercial projects. And he is absolutely right.

Step 10

Decide that it's time for another kid, which means the house needs to be bigger. Perhaps a second story? Toheed tells you he can totally do that, so you hire an architect, draft some plans, and send your wife and kid overseas for 2 months so construction can begin. After your wife and kid leave, and you pack all your belongings in boxes and store them in the garage, find out that your zone is the hardest zone in Los Angeles County to get approval for a second story, and it ain't happening without months of jumping through hoops.

Step 11

Make lemonade out of lemons. Rent your house out for two months and go live like a frat boy with your friend Joey the Fireman. That's all I'll say about that.

Step 12

Wait for the economy to slow down and construction projects to dry up along with it. Go back to your day job. Work two more years. Realize you still have construction loan money left and decide it's no longer worth it to try for that second story. Draft new plans (which include your dream kitchen and bar area, which make you feel a lot better about not getting that second story), and then move your family into Toheed's house while he begins construction. Unleash your kid and dogs on this single guy's house and in 30 days? Voila. NEW HOUSE.

* * * * *

I apologize for the length of this post. I really do. We're almost done.

So Toheed succeeded in building us the pimpinest house in only 30 days and I cannot thank him enough for doing this for us (at cost!!). It just proves that in life, there is nothing better than good friends. They stick with you through thick and thin, get into trouble with you, bail you out and laugh with you the whole way through. Really, what more to life is there?

For my good friend, please do me a favor. If you know anyone in the Southern CA area who needs a general contractor, tell them about his company, Complete Construction. He is a great guy and I can vouch for his honesty and committment to service. And if you don't believe me, check out this slideshow I made about our home remodel. It'll blow you away:

Awkward segway time (because d Wife and Fury are waiting for me to finish this post so we can get on with Father's Day festivities and can't think of any way to seamlessly weave this giveaway into my post)...

Hey, Happy Father's Day! What goes with remodeling posts and dad? Why, Home Depot of course! And looky. I happen to have $100 Home Depot gift card for you right here! In true BusyDad style, I dropped the ball and failed to put this post up before Father's Day so that the winner would actually have this card in hand to spend on Father's Day. But it actually turned out for the better because now I have a little game to play:

See these really clever gift cards?

I'll give one to the poor soul got the lousiest Father's Day present this year. If you're a dad, leave a comment on this post describing your lousy present. If you're a mom and you gave a less than ideal gift and would like to make up for it, describe that necktie in detail right here. I'll give you till next Saturday 11:59 pm to get these all in (and pass this post along) and then select a winner.

And if you're really down to the wire and HAVEN'T gotten the father in your life a present yet, here's a link with more info on Home Depot gift cards. I'd want the drill bit one myself. I'm always losing or breaking drill bits, because, you know, I'm only good at doing contruction proposals.

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!! 

ADDENDUM:
My first commenter on this post suffered a tragedy that none of us should ever have to face, and in light of that I know some of you felt bad telling me about horrible neckties to win a gift card. Home Depot stepped up (thank you! you rock) and offered her family a $100 Gift Card apart from this contest. So... bring on the bad neckties! The $100 gift card is yours to win - and I've changed the rules, because I can. I will let fate, aka the Randomizer, decide which story gets the card.

ADDENDUM #2:
Geeez how could I forget?? Toheed is getting married this weekend. Please congratulate him (I'll have him check comments)!

When a Blogger Meets a Blogger Grillin' Up the Rye

This is a no-brainer post. First of all, who doesn't like grilled cheese? Second, who doesn't love Rachel from A Southern Fairy Tale? Well this post features both, so I'm guaranteed a win. As some of you who read Rachel's blog know, she was here in L.A. back in April as a representative of Kraft Foods (she's like foodie mafia, that Rachel) to attend and cover the 7th Annual Grilled Cheese Invitational. As I am a devotee and occasional participant of Rachel's Mouthwatering Mondays recipe series, I could not pass up the opportunity to hang with the Queen of all that is "tonguegasmic" and grab some grub and beers while we were at it.

Since this is a recipe post, I won't bog you down with details of the evening. Suffice it to say that it was a blast, and I should have known better than to pour my first beer into a glass at dinner in an attempt to be all proper and stuff, because she just chuckled, took her bottle, swigged it and said something along the lines of "you're dealin' with a Texas gal, here." Cowboy up.

Only reason she has a glass here is this bar gave it to us that way. Otherwise, we'd be cuttin' fools in a bar fight.

The next morning Fury, d Wife, her friend "Panda" and I headed to LA State Historic Park to check out the Grilled Cheese Invitational. I had heard reports that it was crowded, but really, how crowded could an event that started out as some guy inviting his friends over to his loft apartment in Downtown L.A. seven years ago really be? Um, Batman-movie-opening-night-two-mile-line crowded, that's how. Luckily, Rachel met us out front, gestured a few hand signals, muttered something in hushed tones about "friends of ours" and just like that, we were chomping on grilled cheese sandwiches, guzzling Izze sodas and listening to free-form poetry about the wonders of cheese. It was Woodstock, with less mud and more dairy.

If you want to get on Fury's good side, offer him cheese.

Watching the teams grill up new interpretations of an old favorite was inspiring for an improv cooking enthusiast like me. And the general excitement and buzz were contagious. But as I made my way from booth to booth, I picked up on something else. It started out faint, but as the day wore on, it eventually even overpowered the aroma of sizzling butter and gooey cheese. It was the unmistakable and familiar smell of competition. And it was summoning me.

"I'm SO doing this next year."

So there you have it. I've put it in writing. Whether I follow through or not is yet to be seen, but at least it gives me an excuse to experiment with butter, cheese and fire all year round. And I don't think it is scientifically possible to be against that. Especially when your first experiment involves lobster.

* * * *

Clambake Grilled Cheese

Like so many things that I cook, this came about because I was looking for a way to recycle leftovers. We had a craving for lobster the night before so I went and bought two. Problem was, the market only had behemoth 4 pounders, which meant we had a ton of lobster meat left over. Like I always say, when life gives you lobster, make grilled cheese. I call this Clambake Grilled Cheese because it uses lobster and smoked sausages, two key ingredients in a New England Clambake. And it sounds better than Lobster and Sausage Grilled Cheese. Makes 3 sandwiches.

Ingredients:

• 4 ounces lobster meat, chopped
• 3/4 to 1 cup shredded Mozzarella
• 1/4 cup shredded Parmesan
• 9 thin slices smoked sausage
• 6 slices French bread
• Mayo
• Old Bay Seasoning (or if you're awesome and she sends you some, Rachel's Simple Seasoning)
• Dried basil, parsley, thyme
• Butter

Preparation:

In a bowl, combine lobster, Mozzarella and Parmesan. Mix it all up. Throw in a small dollop mayo, to your liking. This is really just to help hold everything together as you grill it. Sprinkle seasoning into the bowl, again, to your liking.

Lay out the six slices of bread, side by side and place the sliced sausage on every other piece. Then put the lobster mixture on the other three slices. Make them into sandwiches.

Melt butter in a skillet and before it gets too hot, sprinkle a little basil, parsley and thyme into the pan and let it sizzle a bit. You want to semi-rehydrate the herbs. With butter! MMM. Throw your sandwich on the butter and herb mixture and lower the heat. I usually do grilled cheese on medium to high heat, but since there's cheese throughout the sandwich and not just on the bread, you need to give this sandwich more time on the grill so that the heat really melts everything, which means you need lower heat so your bread and herbs don't become a blackened smoky mess. Plus, the French bread is a little thick, so you need extra time for the heat to penetrate. As it grills, press down on the sandwich with a spatula to squish it all down (I prefer using my hands, but I know you're not into that). Like a manual panini.

Keep checking the bread (a little peek underneath) to make sure nothing is burning. You want a nice golden brown. I didn't time this, but my guess is with lower heat, you'll be wanting to flip these over in about 3 or 4 minutes.

When you are ready to flip, set the sandwiches aside on a plate. Do the butter melting and herb sizzling once again, then throw your sandwiches back down on the other side this time. Squish and wait accordingly.

When everything is crispy, melty and golden brown, lock your family in the closet and eat all three sandwiches by yourself.

If you enjoyed this recipe, make sure to check out Rachel's Mouthwatering Mondays series. I really hate this series because I check it out every monday morning, when I have nothing but a cup of coffee and a pile of work in front of me. I may have short circuited my laptop drooling on it a couple times. Also, there's this link thing at the bottom where people link their weekly recipe posts as well. Check them out or link your own. It's pretty cool.

One more favor before you go. Rachel's blog has been nominated in the "Tastiest Blog" category in the BlogLuxe Awards. Please go there, select Tastiest Blog and vote for the first one: Monkeys and Princesses: A Southern Fairytale. She's winning right now. Let's keep it that way. You make the Foodie Mafia happy, they make you happy.

Next Comes "Can You Drop Me Off a Block Away?"

Sunday was spectacular. I'm sure that knowing Monday was a day off contributed to that sentiment, but getting up to catch the first matinee of Terminator Salvation with Fury definitely propelled the day into cyborg ass kickin' mode from the start.

After lunch, I took Fury with me to the dog park. The dog park in our neighborhood incorporates a huge fenced-in dog area with a playground next to it. Since I can't see the playground from the dog area, we brought along our walkie talkies so I could check on him every once in a while (an underrated parenting tool - one of my first posts ever was about these) . Once parked, we went our separate ways, me with the dogs and him with his scooter.

Being such a nice day, the dog park was pretty crowded. So I'm sure this brought a few glances my way:

*beep* "There are no survivors. Do you copy? I'll keep searching. Over." *beep*

Eh, what the hell, how often in life do you get to play the leader of a ragtag band of humans fighting the tyranny of robots hellbent on exterminating you and yours?

*beep* "Agent Fury, this is John Connor. Continue searching for human survivors and watch out for the T-600's. There's a lot of them in your area. Over." *beep*

*beep* "They're everywhere! I just killed 20 of them!" *beep*

*beep* "Keep me posted on your location and progress." *beep*

*beep* "I just found Kyle Reese!" *beep*

*beep* "Bring him back to headquarters! The resistance needs him. Good job Fury. Over and out." *beep*

For the next ten minutes or so, I chilled with the dogs (and also dropped my phone in Krypto's poop, which was fun), then decided it was time obtain another status report from the front lines.

*beep* "Agent Fury, what's the progress of the prisoner extraction. Are the Terminators still in your area? Over."

*beep* "Dad, I'm just playing right now." *beep*

*beep* "Oh ok. You're ok?" *beep*

*beep* "Yeah. Over and out." *beep*

Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.

A few more minutes passed, when I heard the thump-thump-thump of a low flying helicopter approaching. This was a golden moment not to be squandered...

*beep* "Agent Fury. Hunter-Killers on the horizon. They're headed your way!" *beep*

*beep* "They just tried to kill me! Luckily I wore my armor today!" *beep*

And with that, and a smile on my face, I went to round up the dogs. Once they were leashed and ready to go, I pushed the call button one more time.

*beep* "I'm returning to base, Agent Fury. It's time to end this mission." *beep*

No response.

*beep* "Agent Fury, this is John Connor. What's your 20?" *beep*

Nothing.

I made my way with the dogs toward the playground to pick up my errant soldier. As I got closer, I spied two figures in the distance. One, my boy on his scooter, the other, a little girl on a pink bike. As they came around the bend, I flagged Fury down.

"Time to head home, Fury. Hey, did you lose your walkie?"

"No, it's here," Fury said as he lifted his shirt to reveal the device clipped on his waistband.

"But it's not working... see? [pressing call button] Agent Fury, Agent Fury!"

At that very moment, I realized some things.

That the channel on his walkie had been switched from 1 to 29.

That the girl had stopped a little ways ahead, and was waiting for him.

That John Connor may have saved the human race from annihilation, but right now, he was totally salting Agent Fury's game.  

I'm Such a Brat on Video

My cleaning intervention courtesy of the Style Network's Trish Suhr (Clean House) is up on How I Clean Now, as well as a new post. Go there and check out my posts, as well as those of others who have subjected themselves to this crazy thing they call "cleaning your house." Or just watch it here and then go.