Some of my more insensitive friends who long ago kicked their feminine side to the curb, told me that if I didn't move the sunset post down the line, they'd pull my "man" card. Like the wifeage would even let me carry one of those anymore. Anyhow, popped up to Truckee on Saturday evening with the girl to get the vacation started. The wifeage had to stay behind because the boy was participating in a lacrosse clinic and was due on Sunday evening. So Sunday I put in some serious pool time with the girl. Which was great right up until the point that I got up from my lounge chair to go get another beer from the bar when the girl yelled as loud as she could, "Daddy, your butt is hanging out the back window!" Now I have to admit that I've shed some serious pounds since the launching of Project Johnny 3.0, so I hiked up my swim trunks thinking I was flashing a little butt crack. That's when Maile yelled, "no Daddy! There's a big rip and your entire right butt cheek is hanging out!" Of course at this point, the entire pool area was now staring at me and openly chuckling. My face changed a few shades to the redder, and I quietly asked Maile to bring me a towel. Which she did, and I scraped up what was left of my dignity and continued on. Bravely. Kind of a rough start to the vacation, but what's a vacation without a little nudity right. Hope you are well.

Johnny BareFast

So my mom loved a good sunset. She'd pour herself a scotch and stare out at the splendor. She'd go real quiet and just take it all in, pondering, I suppose, all the greatness in her world. She would marvel at the spectacular way the day would end and she would almost come away from the experience with some sort of sense that the world was better than it was earlier in the day. I've seen entire meals come to a grinding halt in their preparation as my mother would disappear onto the deck to meditate. And no one seemed to mind and we were often implored to join her.

On Saturday evening, I found myself at the Ritz in Half Moon Bay. I was there for some work crap and I had the wifeage come down on Saturday with the kiddiewinks. We spent the afternoon swimming and hot tubbing. After which, we found our way out to a terrace where they had set up some fireplaces surrounded by Adirondack chairs all overlooking to the ocean and facing west. I bought the kiddiewinks a "smores making kit" from the bar. I, of course, ordered up some Stella Artois for moi and settled in near the fire with our goods. The kids got to work roasting the marshmallow's while I hung out and prepped the gram crackers and chocolate. About this time, it became apparent that the sun would set spectacularly, and the people inside the hotel spilled out onto the terrace some taking part in the smoring. As if to really set the mood, a kilted bagpiper showed up to usher out the sun. It was one of those moments, where as a dad, you couldn't be more relaxed. I had a great day with the kids, they were loving the fire and roasting and snacking, I had a cocktail and the sun was cooperating in all its glory. And it hit me, at that moment, that if my mom was with me she'd be totally in her element. How she'd kill for a moment like this just one more time. I sat there reflecting on how great my world is and how lucky I am to have everything that I have. I guess I finally understood what my mother found so therapeutic about watching the day end. It was at that moment that my boy, looking off at the descending sun said, "this reminds me of Grandma." I hugged him though I couldn't say much as my throat was completely choked at the moment and he couldn't quite understand why.

Though Father's Day didn't officially start for another few hours, it couldn't have been any more perfect.


Hope you are well.

Johnny GoFast

In has an infinite amount of terms. Boxin' the Clown, Playin' the Skin Fiddle, Rubbin' One Out, Choking the Chicken, etc., but really it all just boils down to masturbation.

So it was a quiet Sunday night and the house was empty except for the wifeage. The boy was at a sleepover and the girl got a late call for the same. So I looked at the wifeage and said, "let's go out on a date." Which we haven't done since we got married like nine years ago, so she readily agreed. I hammered a couple of beers while she got ready and then we jumped in the car and headed for that culinary mecca of Danville. And then the world went a little sideways:

Me: Holy shit! There's a guy back there at the high school totally naked and "takin' care of business!"

Wifeage: Bullshit!

Me: I'm not kidding. He was sitting on the ramp to the science building that I think is now the administrative building totally flogging himself and looking out at traffic.

Wifeage now turning the van around to confirm said story with me adamantly professing my claim.

Wifeage: What do you mean totally naked?

Me: I mean naked as a jay-bird and yankin' his crank like there is no tomorrow.

Now heading back north on the boulevard the wifeage slows down, and right there where I said he would be, an older man (maybe 60 or so) with white hair, a pair of seeing glasses (because as we all know...if you do that kind of thing too much you go blind) and only clad in a pair of Teva's lounged the perp/perv doing his thing.

Wifeage: That is fucking disgusting and we are calling the cops. He could be some sort of sexual deviant.

Me: Good idea. I think the sexual deviant part is probably a given, given the circumstances.

After that, the evening was pretty mild though the cops couldn't get out of the donut shop quick enough to nab the creep. The zooma-zooma as anticipated never really materialized due to the trauma suffered by the wifeage. So I was left to my own devices, if you know what I mean. Anyway, hope you are well and we'll be seeing you around...hopefully with clothes on and showing the proper restraint.

Johnny GoFast