The Horse Dictator

Garrett Horse 1I have a story to share. Before I do, you should be warned. This story does not make me look like a good person. I was an asshole. I used my own child’s misery to get what I wanted. And, there is some mild animal endangerment in this story. Well…more like “Equine Mockery.” (I may have hurt the horse’s feelings, but that was about the extent of it.) Allow me to explain…

On Sunday, I took Garrett to a pumpkin farm. We arrived at 4:45, but I knew that the farm closed at 6pm. For a little more than an hour, Garrett ran around and played on the pumpkins, hid in the maze, climbed on the tractor, and bounced in the bounce house. Finally, at 5:45pm I convinced him to come and look for a pumpkin with me. Covered in sweat, dust, and some boogers, Garrett happily agreed to leave the play area with me.

As we made our way to the back of the farm, I noticed that they were giving pony rides. I asked Garett if he wanted to ride to pony and excitedly he said, “YES!!” So, we got in line and waited…and waited…and waited.

While standing in line, I noticed that the people around us had yellow tickets. I asked the family behind me what the ticket was for and was informed that we needed to buy a ticket in order to ride the pony. So, I knelt down and explained to Garrett that we needed to go back to the front of the farm to get a ticket for the pony. He put his hand in mine and together we went to get the ticket.

When we reached the ticket booth, I told the woman who was tending the booth that we would need one ticket. She replied, “No more horse rides.”

As I held Garrett’s hand, I asked again. “It’s only 5:59pm. Would it be possible to get one ticket for my son to ride the pony?” And again (without apology) she told me, “No. The pony rides are closed.” (Off in the distance, you can see that the ponies were still going around and around.)

I decided to take a different approach with The Horse Dictator. “Please make an exception. We’re only here once a year and my son has been looking forward to this.” Once again, she said, “No.”

Garrett was about to become the best wing-man of all time and didn’t realize it. As soon as he realized that she was not going to let him ride the pony, he began the “pre-cry whimper.” I could see the tears welling up in his eyes and I knew she saw it too. But, I also recognized that she was not going to be motivated into action by tears alone. With Garrett about to cry, I leaned in to the woman and deepened my voice. “Look. We’ve been standing in that line for 10 minutes. (True) There are no signs explaining that we’d need a ticket to ride the pony. (True) And when we did finally get to the front of the line to get on the horse, we were told to come here and get a ticket. (Not true.)” And I finished with, “….had we known all that, my son would be on the horse right now and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. (Technically, true)” Clearly, she understood that my tone had changed.

With a huff, she said, “Fine. I’ll ask if your son can ride.” And with that, she stormed off towards the horse area. I grabbed Garrett by the hand and followed her. When we got back to the horses, I saw The Horse Dictator speak with the young man running the ride. All I heard him say was, “Well…the horses are tired.”

I wasted no time and injected my thoughts into the conversation. With attitude and sarcasm, I responded, “What do you mean ‘the horses are tired?’ They’re horses! Do you know what they call ‘tired horses’ in other countries? FOOD!” (Yes, I really said it.)

The Horse Dictator whipped her head around and glared at me. The man running the pony ride actually chuckled and gave in. “Ok, come on. Your son can be on the last ride.” I thought The Horse Dictator’s head was going to explode.

Begrudgingly, she walked over to me and said, “That will be 6 dollars.” I had 6 singles on me. But, I’m a dick and I didn’t take kindly to her attitude. Instead, I handed her a 20 dollar bill and told her I wanted a shirt as well, plus my change. I did that knowing full well that she’d have to walk all the way back to the front of the farm to get the shirt and the change and then walk all the way back to find me.

So, as far as I’m concerned, this story has a happy ending. My son got to ride a horse named “Brownie”….and I got to torture The Horse Dictator.

Some People Claim That There’s A Woman to Blame

Mystery-MachineJustin is a very happy kid. However, there are the moments of fake laughter and there are moments of genuine laughter. I caught a moment of the latter while we were at Universal Studios in Hollywood one night.

We were having dinner at Saddle Ranch when two musicians asked if we had any requests. GWE requested “Margaritaville” while Justin completely ignored the situation while watching an over-head television. I caught him off-guard. Enjoy!

Daddy Sings Christmas Music

Car pic

My kids are confused. They want to know why we’re Jewish, but daddy is still allowed to (happily) sing Christmas music during the holiday season. My response is simple, “Stop talking! Daddy’s about to hit the high notes!”

As the weather changes and it get colder outside, I get into the holiday spirit and begin to play lots of Christmas music in the car. I’ve got my Sirius Holiday Channel pre-set and my Christmas playlist prepared on my iPod. This year, I added two new Christmas albums to the playlist – Michael Buble’s “Christmas” and Idina Menzel’s “Holiday Wishes” (Hey Idina – “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?” is not a power ballad! Rein it in a little!) and I’ve been forcing the kids to listen to this music for the past week as I take them to school. Justin tolerates the music, but Garrett (who attends a Jewish pre-school) seems confused as to why the music I sing sounds very different from what he hears at school.

This morning, it came to my attention that Garrett wasn’t bothered by the Christmas music after all. He simply hated the sound of my voice. He (along with Justin) found an effective tactic so that they wouldn’t have to listen to my voice. Together (that’s an accomplishment in itself,) they began to laugh at me….loudly!! Here is a sample:

So, to my fantastic, talented, wonderful boys, there is something you should know about Daddy: I may not be able to sing as well as Mommy, but I did sing my way through Europe after I graduated High School! In doing so, I accomplished three things on my “Bucket List”:

  1. More than once, I (along with some friends) sang for my meal in the Paris Metro. We actually made enough money to afford ourselves a nice dinner – with wine!
  2. I once sang my way out of a fist fight in a Beer Garden. (Drunk people are happy to fight other drunk people. But, drunk people avoid picking fights with “crazy” drunk people!) Singing like a lunatic saved my ass!
  3. While drinking in a German Hofbrӓuhaus, I sang a drinking song so dirty and perverted that the loud, drunk, and belligerent Germans we were with became silent. And then, they asked me to sing it again. (Someday, I will teach you the song that made many a drunk German shut up!)

You might be asking yourselves, what is the point of these stories? It’s simple: “Let Daddy sing his Christmas songs in the car. At least he’s not singing and drinking!”

Garrett’s was 12 inches, but Justin’s was 13!! (First Fishing Trip)

Fish 1Several weeks ago, Justin asked me if I had gone fishing when I was a little boy. I told him that I had been many times and that I loved it. But……….I may have embellished my experiences a little. For his benefit, I made the stories sound “homespun,” like they came from the pages of “Huckleberry Finn.” To him, it probably sounded like I had wistful afternoons, lazily sitting on a dock in my overalls, with a fishing pole in one hand and a piece of straw hanging out of my mouth.

The reality was far different. I remember standing on the edge of the main lake at Camp Barney Medintz (about 100 yards away from Poo Pond – it is what you think it is) every year and sweating from the Summer humidity in rural Georgia. I spent more time trying not to pass out from dehydration, avoiding getting stung by bees, and/or hooking myself in the ear with my own fishing hook like my Cousin Scott – than fishing! I remember catching nothing – ever, and being pissed about it. Maybe it was a good thing I never caught anything. Once again, Poo Pond was close by. With my luck, the only thing I would have caught was dysentery!

I guess I made it sound good because Justin liked what he heard and asked if I would take him. I agreed to take him when we had a free day. Yesterday was that day.

Justin, Garrett, and GWE jumped into the car and we drove to a small fishing hole 18 minutes away from the house. Buried in the Santa Monica mountains, we located Troutdale. For $7 a person, we were given parking, bamboo poles with a hooks, a bucket, and corn for bait. (Yes, corn. Justin looked at the corn and astutely asked, “Are we fishing for chicken?”)

The four of us located our “spot” and immediately put our lines in the water. It only took about 15 seconds for Garrett to get antsy. We encouraged him to stick with it for a few more minutes. Just as he began to give up, he handed me his pole…which started to tug back! Garrett caught the first fish. Here is the video:

Determined to do better than his brother, Justin found a new spot and patiently waited for the fish to bite. Nothing happened. 5 minutes passed. 10 minutes passed. Finally, he felt a nibble. As he pulled his hook up to check the bait – it was gone. Fish 1, Justin 0.

Justin must have gotten lonely because he came back and sat next to me. Just as he put his head on my shoulder, there was another nibble. He pulled his hook up once again and the bait was gone again. Fish 2, Justin 0.

Having been outwitted by the trout and feeling frustrated that his three year old brother had accomplished what he could not, Justin began to give up. He was about to hand me his pole when all of a sudden he felt a hard tug. At last, Justin would have his revenge!! Here is that video:

Together, Justin and Garrett took their bounty to the main shack so they could watch their fish be measured, weighed, and filleted. With the excitement and glee that only boys exude when watching something “gross,” they were giddy while watching her fish get dismembered. Justin (in what I hope was scientific curiously and not signs of a “future serial killer”) asked to see the heart. His wish was granted.

Heart

Last night, we grilled and ate the fish. I think yesterday was a great learning experience and a success for all those involved…except for the fish. Their day sucked.

Fish 2Fish 3

 

 

Sent from my iPad

A Flip Cam Music Video…Shot by a 7 Year Old

IMG_5068What do you get when you give a seven year old a Flip Cam and ask him to record his mother’s performance? Pure hilarity…and nausea.  

GWE was performing at T.H.E. Show in Newport Beach several weeks ago. She (and her band) were performing on a Friday, Saturday (twice), and Sunday. Since Justin had never seen his mother sing for an audience, I thought it would be a great opportunity to have him attend.

 

Right before she went on stage, she handed Justin her Flip Cam and she asked him to record her performance. With grandma sitting to his left and me sitting behind him, we were close enough to assist him in his recording duties. Justin needed no help.

 

It’s hard to tell what I was more entertained by: GWE’s beautiful voice or Justin “Auteur” camerawork. See for yourself:

Justin’s camerawork can only be described as a “found footage film” meets “roller-coaster.”

The Woodcrest Morning News…with Justin Priluck

I sure hope Brian Williams doesn't lean over and kiss Lester Holt on the cheek before each broadcast

I sure hope Brian Williams doesn’t lean over and kiss Lester Holt on the cheek before each broadcast.

For the second year in a row, Justin was given the honor of being one of the youngest students in his school to host a morning news program called “The Woodcrest Morning News.” It is a pre-taped (by about 10 minutes) morning show which includes morning greetings, lunch details, school announcements, and the Pledge of Allegiance. He was originally given three mornings…but did such a great job, they gave him a fourth!

Truth is, he wasn’t “given” the honor. I had to outbid an 8 year old during a school fundraiser. Armed with his parents’ credit card and no understanding of financial value, this child kept outbidding me all the while smugly smiling in my general direction. By the grace of God (and possibly the call of nature,) he stepped away long enough for me to outbid him at the very last minute! Did I pay too much for this item? Probably. All I can say to that kid is, “Nah nah!! I win!!”

Attached below are all of his shows! Like any good host, he had different co-hosts each morning. Plus, he even allowed Garrett to make a cameo appearance! Enjoy!

Morning #1

Morning #2

Morning #3

Morning #4

“…And that’s the way it is”….Until next year!