I hate Two and a Half Men. Not vehemently, mind you. The first season and a half was good. But the show -- much like most of television -- has gone down the crapper thanks to a proliferation of sex jokes, prat falls, drug humor ... and did I mention sex jokes?
The role of Jon Cryer's Alan has morphed from pathetic hanger-on to, well, really pathetic hanger-on that (surprise!) makes way too many sex jokes. Angus T. Jones was cute when he was 10. Now he's just a dorky teenager that (surprise!) makes way too many sex jokes.
The show's only saving grace? Charlie Sheen. Couple reasons why: First, his character hasn't morphed or grown up. He is who he was when the show started. Whether you liked the character or not, at least it was something to count on. Second, he knows how to deliver a line. Third, he's the only one who can get away with (surprise!) making way too many sex jokes. That's Charlie's thing.
Crazy enough, the best season of Two and a Half Men is the one going on right now. Drunken Charlie goes off on a drunken weekend, sleeps with three women, and gets himself left in the Las Vegas desert. Meanwhile, back in Malibu, Alan watches scrambled porn and determines a way to explain all this to Jake, who's just sitting there all doughy and goofy, wondering where the last MoonPie went, even though it's under his pillow. Sounds like a great plot, right? This is real-time, off camera. Golden Globe!
Where's this going? Why are we mentioning this in a Daddy blog? I'm getting there, hold on ...
"I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of every day routine -- the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition. But in the spirit of commemoration, thereby those important events of the past usually associated with someone's death or the end of some awful bloody struggle, a celebration of a nice holiday, I thought we could (take) some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat."
Stepping back into the Blogosphere is a little unsettling. I mean, I'm not really stepping back in, since I still blog. I just do itfor a salary now. But over the last five-plus months, I've neglected my baby here. I've been so busy worrying about work that I forgot what I love. I know; heavy stuff, right?
About a week ago I decided to get back into the ring with my baby, Growing Up Kaitlyn. But I really didn't know how to do it. You see, after you make promises and don't keep them, it's not easy to swallow that pill and come back. It's easier just to let the ball drop and not pick it back up.
Problem is, that would work if I didn't have the most perfect reminder of why I started this in the first place staring at me each and every day. With that, I knew it was time to get back into the game.
And so here I am, to go through (again) the hopes, the fears, the dreams, the snot and the frustration that is fatherhood. Sometimes it's all rolled into one. Sometimes, it trickles out. Much like the snot. One minute, you're wondering where all the time went. Like, say, the last five and a half months.
The next, you're stuck in a moment that will never seem to go away. Like when your daughter asks you to dance with her Cinderella Barbie to "Teenage Dream" sung by the cast of Glee. Not that that's ever happened or anything.
I never appreciated those moments more than when I was writing Growing Up Kaitlyn. Because each moment is its own story, something that should be shared and experienced and remembered. But if we're just going moment to moment without taking them in -- or, even worse, without the ability to remember them because they are moving by so quickly -- then we are lost.
I don't want to be lost anymore. I want to remember.
