I Believe … XIII

Stormtrooper in a Denver storefront. Photo courtesy of Rhea Merck

It’s been a while since I’ve done an I Believe post.

Not that I don’t still believe, because I do. Some days, it’s easier than others to see it. Every day, though, we carry with us beliefs. Mine pop up in conversation, email, texts, comment responses, court depositions.

Kidding on that last one.

What do you believe? I’m only slightly (and very slightly) embarrassed that probably 37 of 42 statements here are food-related. Forty-two, also, is not by accident. It’s supposed to be the answer to the universe.

Go Ask Daddy About Stupidity, Vicinity and Free Hockey Pucks

EJP

There was a moment in Mexico I’d like to forget.

It didn’t involve tequila and a tattoo. There was a speeding taxi, and missing pertinent immigration papers. There was a busted suitcase and even worse, a broken bottle of rum. I stood in the immigration office reeking of rum, with the attitude of an ugly American.

I had one thought.

Gonna blog about this.

Go Ask Daddy About Ethnic Rugs, Cartoon Currents and Psy’s Legacy

photo credit: Cellblog1138 via photopin cc

Dad advice sure isn’t trading well on the stock market these days.

Who am I kidding? Did Alex P. Keaton ever listen to Stephen Keaton on Family Ties? How often did the Beav listen to Ward on Leave it to Beaver? Let’s not even get into Adam’s whole apple thing with the snake and God.

So this should be no surprise. I have two teens and another daughter growing so fast she mashes my chin with her head when she hugs me. The line at the Dad Advice booth is about as busy as the Colorado Rockies playoff ticket window. <crickets>

I’ve found a demographic that still will heed my advice, though: Pets. The four-legged variety. Not the ones in my house. But four-legged friends, nonetheless. Early this week, I was a guest writer on Pig Love, my favorite blog written by an even-toed ungulate. Check out the stellar advice I dished out.

What Happens in Mexico – Goes onto my Blog

photo credit: lamont_cranston via photopin cc

I’m lousy at postcards.

I intend to write one, per day, each time I take a trip, first thing in the morning, before a healthy run and just-as-healthy breakfast. Sentimental words from a sentimental guy in paradise.

It never happens. (The cards, or the just-as-healthy breakfast, at least.).

Any postcards bought rattle around in my suitcase until I get home, where I hand them to the kids and say, “hey. These are for you.” Thanks dad.

Guest Post from Gina of 4-Star Life: Footbally Differences Between Girls and Guys

She’s got scarves on the wall of the flat. Game updates on her computer screen at work. And jerseys. She has football jerseys, y’all.

Today’s guest poster, Gina from 4-Star Life, is an English girl living in Mexico. No, it’s not a sit-com – it’s her life! Life as a football fan without the Y chromosome isn’t like that for those of us who have one.

There seems to be a fundamental difference in how the beautiful game is seen from her eyes than from mine.

Today, Gina’s here to bring those differences to light. She’s impressed me with her football knowledge. And if you read Marcia’s post recently on American football, you’ll see some parallels. (I think America has the leg up on tailgate food, honestly).