It’s the last day of 2011? Already?!

Posted on December 31, 2011 by Eric Storch

It’s the last day of 2011. In some ways it was a good year (I had disposable income) and in other ways it was a bad year (I lost my disposable income).

It seems that those in the blog-o-sphere feel obligated to post an end-of-year recap or something along the lines of how the coming year is going to be better. OK, I can do that too.

There are some trends among the blogs this year:

I haven’t been blogging long enough to do a “blog best of” recap, so you’re not gonna get that.

I haven’t taken enough pictures throughout the past year to do a photo retrospective, so you’re not gonna get that.

Not too many people are doing an actual New Year Resolution list. Maybe I can just go the traditional route.

Oh wait. There’s one here.

And here.

Oh. I guess they are.

Well, I thought I’d be different so everybody would be “OMG! He TOTALLY went retro! How awesome!” Guess my plan has failed before it even began.

Oh well. I’m going to do it anyway. I don’t care.

First up is HEALTH.

This is me right now as I’m writing this post:

My "I'm smart and thinking pose."

I should have taken a picture so you can see more of me, but I don’t want to lose readers. Trust me when I say my gut is approaching beach ball dimensions and my muscles are evaporating into the ether. That has got to change. So, this year I am going to get in shape. I’ll be 41 in February and what’s happening to my body has become unacceptable.

Now, I’m not looking for this…

Seems I like the "I'm smart" thing and, yes, the hair is real!

…but at least back then I could ride my bike for more than a mile without feeling like I was going to die. Which leads me to…

SMOKING.

I have got to friggin’ stop. Period. Bad for me. Bad for the kids (I do smoke outside the house, but that’s not good enough). Just bad all around.

EMPLOYMENT.

Goes without saying. However, I’m not going to just grab the first job that wants me. I need to get a job on my terms. Will it take a little longer? Yes. Will I be better off? I certainly believe so.

WRITING.

I am going to write everyday. Whether it’s a blog post, short story or a novel, I’m going to write EVERY DAY. I need this more than any other thing, I think.

A friend and I were talking on Christmas day and he said to me that music is what defines him. Writing is what defines me. It has been missing from my life for too long and I need to get it back.

And lastly, DADS ARE GOOD MOMS, TOO.

There are tons of “Mommy Blogs” out there. There are “Daddy Blogs” too. But I feel that parenting roles have become blurred with our generation. This coming year will also be a document of my role here at home and the things I do for the family. 2012 will be the Year of the Maddy (or Dommy).

I’ve come a long way since this picture was taken:

Nice pants.

…but my journey is only half done.

The first half I let too many people and outside forces control my path. The second half will be on my terms and I’m going to be happy.

Even if it kills me.

Hopefully, it won’t come to that.

Then I’d be bummed.

Happy New Year, everyone!

P.S. If I linked to your blog, it wasn’t to make fun of you. I linked because I visit your blog frequently and enjoy what you write. No lawsuits, please.

The Ruins of Castle Fortaan – Part One

Posted on December 30, 2011 by Eric Storch

A few days ago, Middle and I sat down to play his new game Lego Heroica. I’m an avid grognard and Lego fan, so I jumped at the chance to try this new thing out.

I started taking pictures because I thought the game just looked so cool and as we played, Middle and I started telling a story about what was really going on.

This is the first floor of Castle Fortaan. It’s been over-run by goblins and they have been terrorizing the countryside, stealing cattle and produce. The mayor of the local town has put out a call to any people brave enough to end the threat of the goblin occupation.

Two heroes have stepped up to the challenge. Sir Dad the Goofy (the grey one) and Flamm the Druid (the tan one).

Our first challenge came in the form of this goblin warrior. He was attempting to smash the frog statue. Flamm made short work of the baddie by first encasing him in entangling vines and then bopping him on the head with his shillelagh. We then found a key which would allow us access to deeper into the ruins.

Sir Dad wandered off alone and ran into a goblin cook. (Note the GIANT chicken leg) There must be something in here …

… another key and a chest containing gold!! Perhaps Sir Dad get now get some chainmail underwear that doesn’t chafe.

After re-teaming with Flamm, Sir Dad found another chest. More gold was to be had which he graciously shared with Flamm. Flamm vowed to donate the money to HAT (Hug a Tree).

Nearing the end of our adventure, Sir Dad and Flamm make short work of the remaining goblins, only to find …

… an old piece of parchment. On it was written the location of the fabled Helm of Protection, an item of such potent magic we knew that finding it must be the next part of our quest. Without it, how could we hope to stand up to the Goblin King?

A New Look for a New Year

Posted on December 28, 2011 by Eric Storch

Changed the look of “I Can’t Brain…” this morning. It took some tweaking, and a lot of time (OCD can be a bitch!) but I think I’ve laid out a good foundation for the changes I hope to happen in the coming year – both with my growing readership and personally.

I'm cured! See?

The home page is now set up to feature posts with the “Family” tag in the top box. All other posts show up underneath as summaries.

The navigation bar will remain unchanged – I want you guys to be able to get the Fiction Friday pages easily!

There’s also a new handy-dandy widget on the top of the right column that lists the top three most recent posts and the top three most commented posts. Just click the buttons to toggle between them.

The only thing I’m not happy with at the moment is where the text in the header sits. I’d like for both eyes to be unobstructed.

Let me know what you think of the new look and if it’s easy to manage as a guest.

PS Coming up soon I’ll be posting a three-part story that the middle boy and I cooked up while playing the Lego game Heroica – complete with pictures!

December 20, 2011

Posted on December 27, 2011 by Eric Storch

On December 20, 2011, I received a letter envelope from UPS. The return address was my place of employment.

I knew what I would find when I opened it and I didn’t want to see confirmation of what I knew to be true.

I opened it anyway.

It was signed by my supervisor’s supervisor and contained the phrase, “…effective 12/19/11 your employment with (name withheld to protect the guilty) will be terminated…”

I was fired. Confirmed.

Five days before Christmas.

I knew it was coming. I wasn’t surprised and, in a way, I welcomed it. However, I’d by lying if I said it didn’t hurt.

Depression can be a controlling bastard and I let mine take control. Completely. I just paid one helluva price for it.

Jenny Lawson, “The Bloggess,” once said that “depression is a lying bastard.” It is. And I forgot that truth.

Here’s the thing though – this was one major wake up call. When I opened that letter, my initial reaction was relief. It took me a while to recognize that, but that’s what it was. I know now what that job was doing to me and my family.

Two of my three kids are special needs – and, in a way, so is my wife. She suffers from severe anxiety/depression, fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue. Day to day life is a challenge and some days I feel very alone in facing those challenges.

I worked second shift. I left for work right before the boys were home from school and wouldn’t get home until almost one in the morning. This meant that I wasn’t home when they were and my wife was in charge. A task she wasn’t up to most days.

On the weekends, the older boys (they are my step-sons, but we never use the label “step.”) were at their grandmother’s one weekend and at their father’s the next.

End result:

I NEVER GOT TO SEE MY CHILDREN.

To them, I became a Ghost Dad – except those really bad nights when things at the house started to get too far out of control and my cell would be ringing constantly – which my supervisor at work didn’t like all that much.

So, that is major stressor #1.

Major stressor #2 is the job itself.

The job I did was very easy for me. So easy, I’m convinced that a retarded monkey can do it. Unfortunately, I’ve got a big mouth sometimes and expressed my disappointment with the lack of challenges the job presented. The company’s anwer: Give me more to do.

Lots more.

With 4 to 8 hour deadlines.

I became the “Go-to Guy.” You need something done right now? Give it to Eric. Got a question about some obscure protocol? Go ask Eric. Need to complain about a co-worker? Bitch to Eric. Had a fight with your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife? Tell Eric all about it. Got pictures of your family trip to Disneyland that Eric couldn’t possibly afford and he’s so jealous that he can’t do that for his family? Show them to Eric.

Yup. I started to really hate the job and all the people I worked with.

As a result, anxiety and depression started to kick in. I stopped going. I stayed home. I got fired.

No surprises there.

~THIS POST IS GETTING LONG, BUT BEAR WITH ME, PLEASE~

There is a point to this and it’s not to garner sympathy or try to get anyone to join in a pity party. Just needed to set up the situation.

I said up at the beginning that I welcomed this. I think you can see why. I’m also taking this as a sign that 2012 is going to be MY year. A year of success and fulfillment of a forty year old dream.

After the kids are back in school on January 3rd, I’m going to start hunting for another job. A daytime job. No more nights. I’m taking the time this week to enjoy being with my family. Santa brought some cool things this year and the boys want to play and have fun – and they want to do it with me. I won’t say no.

That forty year old dream? Writing. I’m going to work it out somehow. I’m going to publish short stories and novels at some point in the future. I’m going to finally believe that I’m good enough to do it.

I know that I’m not alone in attempting to restructure and rethink my future. To do what I love and be successful. That is a big help. Others have, or are trying to, make major changes in their lives. My family supports my decision 100%. My wife’s reaction was, “It’s about time.” She’s known all along that writing is what I’m meant to do.

It’s what defines me.

It’s a tough and scary decision to make but I’m determined to roll with it and do what I can to make it work out.

It feels good to do this.

Damn good.

I’m smiling. I haven’t done that in a very long time.

Happy Politically Correct, Non-Denominational Holiday!

Posted on December 20, 2011 by Eric Storch

With Christmahanakwanzika fast approaching, I feel I should chime in with the rest of the blog-0-sphere for some holiday humbug.

Yeah, humbug.

That's me on the right.

I hate the holidays. All the lights, decorations, shopping, shoppers, driving, screaming, kicking, lists, songs, presents, trees, cold, kids, family, craziness, booze, food, TV shows that I want to watch taken off the air for a month and a half … (I miss you already Walking Dead!)

ARGH!!!!!

Don’t get me wrong. When I was kid, Christmas was magical. The songs and decorations would wind my brother and I up like two spring driven toys, going non-stop until the morning of December 25th, when in a flurry of flying wrapping paper, we’d release the springs, squee in joy over our new loot, and then crash like junkies coming down off of a high. Yeah, Christmas rocked.

Now, I’m an adult. Got some kids of my own. And Christmas sucks.

For many reasons.

Decorations

Who’s bright idea was it to make it a tradition to unpack Gordian Knot ropes of lights, highly breakable baubles, fake evergreens, Smurf-sized villages and silver colored grass that makes the cat choke – set it all up in and outside your home – and then pack it all back up again two weeks later? Seriously, who? ’Cause I’m gonna write a nasty letter – or something.

Shopping

Really? Don’t watch the videos if you’re sensitive.

PEOPLE FRIGGIN’ DIE ON BLACK FRIDAY.

’nuff said.

Music

I like music and all – maybe more than most – but I think Jenny at Studio 30 Plus sums up how I feel very well.

Political Correctness

Why? I think I hate this the most. When did we become a country of pansies? The whole concept of “political correctness” just seems wrong. I mean, I get right from wrong and try my best to do right, but when did I have to start making sure I wasn’t hurting anybody’s feelings?

I celebrate Christmas. So, Merry Christmas, people. You don’t like it? Tough. Are you jewish and maybe want to say Happy Hanukkah? Fine. Do it. I don’t care. I’m not gonna get offended.

Y’know what? This is an issue that deserves it’s own post.

Continue reading →

Musical Inspiration

Posted on December 17, 2011 by Eric Storch

I tend to always be listening to music. I grew up in a house where music was always playing; whether it was the stereo, tape deck or (yes, I’m that old) the turn table.

I started playing the clarinet in 4th grade and didn’t stop until I graduated high school. (I never liked playing clarinet, however it did have certain advantages. ”This one time, at band camp…” Yep. Those kind of advantages.)

I’ve learned how to play piano, saxophone and guitar as well. I’ve been in a number of musical groups (classical, jazz and rock), competed in competitions and even went to college to study music.

Music is a huge part of my life.

When I write, I listen to music and tend to have a few favorite albums I come back to. I find them relaxing and creatively stimulating.

I present, in no particular order, my Top Ten Albums for Writing.

1. Miles Davis – Kind of Blue

2. J.S. Bach – Cello Suites 1-6

3. Clifford Brown & Max Roach - Clifford Brown & Max Roach

4. Ozric Tentacles – Pungent Effulgent

5. Dave Brubeck – Time Further Out

6. Claude Bolling – Suite for Cello & Jazz Piano Trio

7. Rush – Snakes & Arrows Live

8. Jethro Tull – Songs From the Wood

9. Phish – A Picture of Nectar

10. ZZ Top – Tres Hombres

This is, by no means, an exhaustive list – just the albums I turn to again and again. Some days you can find Van Halen, Hendrix and Stevie Ray Vaughn on the list, other days it might be mostly metal such as Metallica and Tool, still other days will find me listening to the Grateful Dead, Dylan and James Taylor. It all depends on my mood and what I’m writing.

Sometimes noodling (an extremely technical term for “random playing”) on my guitar will inspire me to write something or revive a memory that I feel compelled to put into words.

What about you? Do you listen to music while you write? If so, which albums? Or, do you find creative inspiration elsewhere?

Look! A super-cool button badge!

Go check out Lovelinks #36 and say a good word for me. Just ’cause.

I Said What I Needed To Say … sort of

Posted on December 13, 2011 by Eric Storch

Since Thanksgiving, I have let my depression/anxiety disorder get the better of me. I had six days off from work, and took my youngest with me four hours away to stay with my folks over the holiday. We had a great time – I drank some very good home and micro brews (thanks, bro!) – and I thought all was well with the world.

Then I came home.

And didn’t go back to work for one day.

Then two days.

Three.

A week.

It’s now mid-December and I still haven’t been back to work. I called my boss twice during this time and both times left a message. She’s never at her desk.

I was starting to wonder if I had been fired.

No, I knew I had been. I knew I couldn’t just show up unannounced and expect everything to be cool. As each day went by, it became harder to even make a phone call to let work know what was going on.

Last night, my supervisor called me.

I panicked. My heart was going to burst from my chest, my legs got weak and I almost yacked up dinner. My wife answered the phone and without saying a word, pushed the phone into my hand.

I had no choice. I had to face this.

That’s when my brain decided to be an asshole.

Here’s how the conversation went:

Supervisor (S): Hi, Eric?

Brain (B): Don’t say anything.

Me (M): Hello, (name witheld, but it’s the same as my wife’s – which has made certain conversations over the past year a little awkward)

B: Asshole! I said to be quiet!

S: How are you?

B: Fucking peachy, what do you think?

M: Not so good.

S: What’s going on?

M: Um…

B: I hate working for you!

M: Well…

B: I hate my co-workers!

M: Er…

B: A retarded monkey can do my job! I’m sure you can find one. Leave me alone!

S: Eric?

M: I’ve, uh, let my anxiety/depression disorder take over and I’ve, uh, been having a, uh, really tough time.

My wife, who had been listening, smiled and nodded encouragement.

S: Oh, that’s horrible! (My boss is a woman with a huge heart for any living thing in distress)

B: Great! Now she’s gonna be all gushy and sympathetic. You know I can’t stand that shit. Way to go, dumbass.

M: Yeah, um …

S: Are you going to come back to work?

B: NO! I told you to go find a monkey! Dammit, I hate repeating myself!

M: I hope to.

S: Great! We’d hate to lose you.

B: Why? The chains you bought for my desk too expensive?

From here the conversation is kind of fuzzy. My supervisor was telling me things to do and what she was going to do for me, but I can’t remember much. My brain had started singing “Iko, Iko” at the top of his diabolical lungs and was drowning her out.

I think things are ok with work. I’m pretty sure she told me she would call back tonight but I can’t be one hundred percent sure on that.

Maybe she said she had found a retarded monkey.

In which case, I’m screwed.

The Days of the Week, The Days of the Week

Posted on December 11, 2011 by Eric Storch

My youngest son, who is 7, has PDD-NOS. (I know, I’ve said it a bunch of times). What’s most noticeable about him is that he is very small for his age and talks like an average 3-year-old. He’s very bright (I’m not just saying that as a proud daddy, he really is – ask his teacher), in first grade and one of the happiest kids I know.

He said something to me this morning which I thought was the coolest thing that ever came from is lips. But we’ll get to that after some background information.

One of the ways he sorts information is to categorize it into simple ideas that he can easily remember and make it easy for him to make part of a daily routine. He has a very cool way of remembering what day of the week it is.

Monday is “Pizza Monday.” It is the only day he gets the hot lunch at school and, if we let him, he’d eat pizza everyday.

The rest of the school week he remembers by what special activity he has to do in school. Thus we have:

Art Tuesday
Gym Wednesday
Library Thursday and
Music Friday

These are what he actually calls the days.

Saturday he just calls “Play Day.” Saturdays he’s usually allowed to do whatever he wants, whether it’s computer time, PlayDough or playing games with Daddy. They are very much “playdays” and are always tons of fun.

Labeling the days make them exciting for him – giving him something to look forward to.

This morning, I slept in. It is Sunday after all. My youngest was still in bed when I got up, but he was awake. Then he gave me his new label for Sunday.

“Hey,” I whispered. ”Good Morning.”

“Good Morning, Daddy,” he said. ”It’s NFL Sunday.”

“You bet it is, buddy,” I smiled.

“Go Pats,” he smiled back.

I laughed, scooped him up, took him downstairs and made breakfast.

An early Christmas gift

Posted on December 10, 2011 by Eric Storch

UPDATE:

Last Thursday I talked about late people and mean parents in the most disorganized article I have ever written. Friday morning proved that there is hope in the world. Here’s what happened:

My youngest son’s school is located on one of the major rush hour routes through my town. Naturally, trying to get in and out of the school lot becomes a waiting game while angry, late commuters wiz by talking on their phones and sipping their coffee.

But Friday saw a change in that routine. A very nice woman actually stopped her car on that busy road to allow traffic both in and out of the school lot. I was one of those waiting to leave and was back pretty far. This woman waited for seven minutes for all of the school traffic to clear. SEVEN MINUTES!

Yes, people started honking their horns. Yes, people tried to squeeze around this woman.

What did she do?

She shifted the position her her car slightly so no one could get by and when the school traffic cleared, she continued on her way.

Wow.

So, a big “thank you” to the mystery woman in the maroon Honda Odyssey. You made my day and I’m sure there are others who are grateful.

Merry Christmas.

I think the clock is slow…

Posted on December 8, 2011 by Eric Storch

Yesterday, a friend of mine on Google+, Tammy F., posted about her frustration with parents getting their kids to the bus-stop late and holding things up. Her post started with the phrase, “I hate late people!”

I knew it was going to be a good one.

She went on about how she is “usually 10-15 minutes early” whenever she has to be someplace at a given time. A common theme among those of us who agreed with her about the frustrations of dealing with late people.

She said one other thing that hit home with me and was much like my own childhood. “…even in elementary school I got myself up with my own alarm clock and got myself ready to school and out the door. No one woke me up or managed my time. No one poured my cereal or made me brush my teeth. I did! I was responsible for myself-which is a philosophy I have carried in all other areas of my life.“

A philosophy which I am trying to instill into my own children and failing miserably at.

Another mother, Susan V., expressed her frustration with parents at her child’s school drop-off. ”Why yes, please, cut in front of me and I’ll just wait while you kiss your kid a bajillion times- then sit behind you waiting while you watch to make sure the child kid gets into school before you put the car in gear and slllooooooowwwwly pull away. Yes, parent, YOUR time is more valuable than anyone else’s. And you love your kid more.”

Why does all this hit home with me? Check out a Facebook post of mine from back in April.

Yeah, that’s why.

In one of my earlier articles, I mentioned that my youngest son has PDD-NOS. PDD is a high-functioning form of Autism, but it is a problem for him and us. Thankfully, he’s still blissfully unaware of any issues. However, I am not. In this case, it takes him some time to get out of the car – we have to wait for his paraprofessional to come and get him (parents are not allowed to exit their vehicles in the drop-off circle) – at the time, he was still in a car seat (he’s tiny) and couldn’t get out on his own. By other’s standrards, we were slow.

I wonder where all these people have to be – the incident mentioned has been only one of many.

Are they late to be someplace?

Are they missing Good Morning, America?

Are they afraid their coffee is going to get cold?

What is it?

I don’t know.

Perhaps they just need to learn better time management skills.

Or perhaps they just need to slow down and take a look at what’s going on around them and realize that there is more to the world than their own near-sited view.