There’s an anxious murmur that swells the room to the rafters. Throngs of children, thigh-high to their parents and filled in from the front row to the back-of-the-house, huddle in front of the empty stage. Sunshine from skylights paints awaiting faces until the tension is suddenly snapped by a deep, down-tempo bass beat that starts to pour forth from wooofers around the room. (Read the rest)
(Bonus: Want to build a Netflix switch that turns on your TV, brings you right to Netflix, dims your lights, silences your phone, and even orders you food? You’re going to want to read to the end!)
But for now, a bit more about family traditions. (Read the rest)
“In a perfect world,” I wrote, “you have the Pampers semi truck pull up to our Dad’s Night Out/Diaper Drive event at 6:30 PM. The side gates roll up, as if by magic – confetti and balloons set aloft – and a team of Santa’s elves unloads pallet after pallet in a seemingly endless parade of diapers for donation! (Read the rest)
You’ve all seen the commercials.
Two opposing vehicles approach an intersection at full speed. In the passenger cabin of the first car, the man at the wheel is rocking out to a driving guitar riff on his radio. In the other, a father takes his eyes off the road ahead and whips them around to a kid in the car seat in back where an untimely tantrum is in full swing. (Read the rest)
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“But what happened, Miss Simone? Specifically, what happened to your big eyes that quickly veil to hide the loneliness? To your voice that has so little tenderness, yet flows with your commitment to the battle of Life? What happened to you?”- Dr.
Tis the Season Of The Dad and the internet is once again awash with lists of all things for, from, and about dads. This year, I wanted to toss my hat in the ring with my very first Father’s Day-esque post, and rather than simply contributing another list of gift ideas, or scouring my brain space for another anecdotal post about treasured Father’s Days of yore, I decided to incorporate two of my relatively newfound passions : Fatherhood and Photography. (Read the rest)
By (Dada) Mike Heenan in People, Places, Things 6 Comments Tags: Bay Bridge, Bridge, City Dads Group, Kids, Kindie, Levi's Stadium, San Francisco, San Francisco Bay Area Dad, SF Dads Group, The Painted Ladies
Let’s pretend, for the sake of argument, that you’ve wondered where I’ve been. That you’ve noticed our conspicuous absence over here on the blog. That you’ve checked in on us, often, only to discover that nothing new had been documented since October. (Read the rest)
One morning, just out of my teens, in the back bedroom of a two-bedroom duplex in South Carolina’s “Low Country,” I found my dad, dead, on the floor by his bed.
To this date there are but two things I don’t like to talk about, often, my own health, and the death of my father. (Read the rest)
Remember once upon a last April when I wrote this, apparently, “illmatic” attack on the rap industry? What I intended as more of a creative treatment of a wholly personal parenting decision in the form of a break-up letter, for the sake of my young daughters, caught a bit of fire when The Huffington Post re-ran it, and the naysaying haters came out of the comment woodwork. (Read the rest)