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I think it is easy to say that one of my biggest fans is my son Stephen. I am learning how to use my new (to me) Wacom Bamboo and it is going slow. I am not a very good drawer under the best of circumstances and learning to draw on something other than paper has taken my “skills” and marginalized them even more.

However, every time I start drawing a picture, Stephen comes over to me and tells me that it is awesome and he wishes how he could draw like me. I am really honored that he likes it but more often than not, I restart GIMP and mutter “Sorry son, but it sucks.” Each and every time.

I need to remember that he watches everything I do because I notice that he has been throwing away unfinished drawings because he is totally dissatisfied with how they look. I wonder how much of that is because he is trying to improve and how much of that is because he is imitating me.

I’m not a big believer of bribing children for acceptable behavior, but this is different. There are really only three options that I could see: 1) bribery, which is the path we took; 2) punishment, which is pretty futile in a case like bedwetting because I think it will only compound the “problem” which is pretty routine for six year old boys and 3) resigning myself to doing a lot of laundry, which had gotten old really quick.

Yesterday, we told him that if he was able to go seven days, he couldn’t just start peeing in the bed again on Day Eight. I pointed out that he has proven to us that he was able to either hold it or get up and go to the bathroom, so there is no reason to start bedwetting again. We also pointed out how proud of him we were.

We have no idea what kind of surprise to get for him, but he knows it won’t be something extravagant, but instead it will be something special for him because he earned it.

Some of my friends without children might not see what a huge accomplishment this is (but really isn’t not cleaning up urine soaked bedclothes a good thing?), but trust me, this is huge. I have been through a lot with my kids: first steps, first periods, first dates and first children and I rank this up there with the best of times.

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Me: What was the first album you ever bought?

Her: Escape by Journey.

Me: Mine was Double Fantasy.

Her: What’s that?

Me: Double Fantasy.

Her: Is that the name of the band?

Me: No. Double Fantasy. (long pause) By John Lennon and Yoko Ono.

Her: Never heard of it.

Me: Are you fucking with me?

It just occurred to me that I will have my mornings free. I think I will try and get into a local college and take some courses in something. I only wish I knew what I wanted to be when I grow up.

This isn’t like the flood of people who went to Texas or Tennessee about 10 or 15 years ago, but most of the relocators are young and that’s never good for a dying area like Detroit.

Next thing you know, middle aged technologically oriented guys will be taking off for North Carolina. Then who will be left?

This post was written on my iPod Touch using the WordPress app.

He also likes We Will Rock You because of some TV commercial, and (Ooh La La La) Let’s Go Dancing because his mother plays it a lot when they are driving together or when she is doing the dishes.

I recently received a box set of Mozart’s Piano Symphonies, but although I haven’t taken most of the CDs out, he found them and insists on listening to them whenever he go for rides. I’m not sure which ones he likes and which ones he doesn’t, but I know that he doesn’t just like them all. I will have to pay closer attention the next time we are out and about.

And the funny thing is, I haven’t gone out of my way to influence his taste at all because he only tolerates Rancid (although to be fair, he likes their more ska influenced stuff) and Paul Westerberg, but doesn’t like A Love Supreme at all.

But to me the really good news is that he wants to take guitar lessons. I have always wanted to learn how to play an instrument, but while I have great taste in music, I have no musical aptitude whatsoever.

Then all of a sudden they stopped coming around. And I mean sudden. One week we saw them six straight days, then we saw them once in two weeks. Weird, but expected once she received her income tax return.

What wasn’t expected was that she started dating someone whose sole attribute was described as “he’s wearing an ankle bracelet and she doesn’t even know what he was in for.”

Granted I don’t know what most women look for in a man, but I would think that ‘Has an electronic tether on his ankle’ would NOT rank very high on the list of desired attributes.

I could be wrong, but I get the feeling that I know how this story is going to end.

I shouted back down the hall and asked her what she was watching. Apparently it is a show called ‘I Love Money 2′ and airs on VH1.

Here is a clip of the show:

Am I the only one who remembers when VH1 was the mature music television channel, unlike MTV, who only showed hair metal and hip hop videos?

This is the conversation that followed:

Patti: Who’s that guy?

Me: What guy?

Patti (pointing to the screen): That guy. Who is he?

Me: That’s Steve McQueen.

Patti: Who?

Me: What? You’ve never heard of Steve McQueen?

Patti: No, who is he?

Me (long pause as I struggled to wrap my mind around the fact there is someone I know who has no idea who Steve McQueen is): The original Blob, Bullitt…

Patti: What’s Bullitt?

Me (long pause as I struggled to wrap my mind around the fact there is someone I know who has no idea what Bullitt is): What?

Patti: Don’t give me that look. I don’t know comic book stuff.

Me: The Great Escape, The Getaway, The Magnificent Seven.

Patti: Why does that sound familiar? I’ve heard of that.

Me: He’s one of the last real fucking men in Hollywood.

Patti: You could have just said he was an actor.

Help me out. Which Steve McQueen movies (besides the ones I have listed) should I show her?

Anyway, I was running late and was rushing to the front of the school where the kids were. One of his classmates was walking with her mother back to their car. The mother looked at me, smiled and in a very cheery voice asked “Hi, are you Olivia’s grandfather?”

I gave her the patented Derek Coward stone face and said “No, I’m Stephen’s father” and kept walking. In my head I was thinking “What the fuck? Do I look old enough to be Olivia’s grandfather?”

Then it occurred to me. “Uh, probably. Because YOU ARE A GRANDFATHER!!!”

It was too late to tell her that there was no offense taken because she was hurried up to her car, probably a little embarrassed. And Stephen was waiting for me. In fact the first words out of his mouth were “You’re late again.” [Even though I wasn't the last parent/grandparent there, but if he has to wait even a second, then I'm late.]

This whole post was just an excuse to post this picture: