We were nearing the eve of Halloween and my wife calls me "Hey Dave, I'm at the costume store...what do you want? They have a pirate outfit and this Shocker costume thing." A SHOCKER COSTUME? I thought. This is going to be money.

Before you read on you must know that I'm a pretty good dad. I quit playing music every weekend and traveling the country to be home more and I have generally put my son before me in every case. But I'm kind of sloppy. I like to drink. I really like to say F*ck. And given the choice between a "Pirate Costume" and a "Shocker"....I'll take the Shocker EVERYTIME. In fact, if you had a suit made of big old hairy floppy balls, I would actually wear that everywhere. Then I'd walk door to door holding Howie's hand and when we knocked upon the door and it opened he'd say "Trick or Treat" and I would feverishly flop myself all over the people passing the candy out.

Juvenile? No. At least I expose the skeletons in my closet.

Turns out, this Shocker costume was the most horrible asshole stupid costume I could have ever gotten. The fingers wouldn't stay up, it was uncomfortable, and the costume just overall bombed. Bigtime. At one point some guy decided to interrogate me in front of 15 other people asking, "What are you supposed to be bud?" I was like "The Shocker".

And no one laughed.

He said "Oh...I thought you were supposed to be a big middle finger."

Anyways...I learned a few things about life and fatherhood from this experience. And since numbered lists are all the rage with blogging these days, I figured I would jump on the bandwagon before it runs out of gas. Or steam...or whatever in the balls a bandwagon uses for power.

1. Read the instructions
How many of you actually read instructions when putting something together for your kids? You are a liar if you say you do. Welp, it is time to tear them from the plastic. If I would have even looked at the instructions for the costume I would have seen that you are supposed to STUFF THE G*D DAMN FINGERS WITH PAPER. Then they wouldn't have fell down. Then I would have looked like the Shocker. Then I would have conquered the world.

2. Listen to your wife (or girlfriend or mom)
I still won't do this because it sucks, but she had a couple of suggestions that were better in hindsight. I thought I was going to kill the world with my Shocker costume. I was so immersed in my delusions of grandeur that I couldn't even hear the warnings spewing from her mouth. All I could hear or see was how awesome I was going to be and how this costume was going to revolutionize Halloween itself.

3. Stand Up and Own It
The only REAL time that this costume was awkward was when I felt embarrassed about its shittiness. Once I settled on the fact that it was too late to turn back, I stopped taking the costume off and started looking people in the eye. Even with all 5 fingers flopping down to the floor, I would answer "The Shocker" with full confidence when asked what I was supposed to be. I think you could actually walk into a room completely buck ass naked and if you own it...people will love you for it.

4. Strike those first two and follow your gut
Some say life is short. Some say life is loooong. No matter what you believe, one thing holds true...when we get older the only things we have are memories. Good or bad, we can usually at least laugh at most of them. If I would have went as some stupid teddy bear thing, no one would have cared either way and I would have one less story to share over a beer or in the nursing home one day. Or better yet, over a beer IN the nursing home...

5. Don't Take Yourself Too Seriously
If I were Captain Anal, I probably wouldn't have worn a costume at all, much less a Shocker. I got some pretty dirty looks that night from some other Captain Anals. Actually, Captain Anal would be a sweet costume. That's what I'm going as next year. Wait, that actually sounds kind of twisted...what if people thought that I was actually into...nevermind.

Thanks for the advice...That was a shitty list, Dave.

Yea, well aside from "reading the instructions" and "listening to your wife" I think it's all fairly manly/good fatherly advice...I won't repeat the first two ever again because I actually felt myself turn into a woman for 5 minutes as I was typing them.

Seriously though, what would you add to the list? Go any costume idears?

p.s. Go check out Noah and the Whale's Peaceful, the World Lays Me Down. Just bought that one and it is awesome. It's also perfect bath time music...It makes the whole wrestling a demon child down into the water much more peaceful.

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Dave playing some cover songs and generally actin' a fool: http://www.youtube.com/jakobfreely

Follow Dave on Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/davemhuffman

Photo Linked to Source

Here's what my wife does every single night. Even in the heat of the f@cking summertime.

Puts our son to bed, brushes her teeth or possibly some combination including a shower, maybe grabs a snack or glass of wine, then she TURNS THE HEAT TO HELL.

For those of you not following my reference, she cranks that shit to about 77 degrees.

Why in the holy balls does 77 degrees outside feel great, but it feels like the god damn Gobi Desert indoors? I don't get it. I wake up at least 4 nights a week and deliriously roam the house about 5 minutes from heat stroke, looking for water.

Ha, I seriously just pulled the spelling of "delirious" completely out of my ass. That was awesome.

So, to make a long story short - we just found out that she has Iron Deficiency Anemia.

One of the top side affects? Survey says...."being cold".

I don't know if that's exactly how it is listed, but coldness or however in the shit you say it...that's a side effect.

Anyway, we spent the better part of four hours in a clinic today with her hooked up to an IV getting Iron pumped into her system. She has to repeat that every Friday for 8 weeks or something.

Ok, so here's the MORALE OF THE STORY:

Guys - if your wife tries to cook your ass in your sleep, take her to the doctor. She probably has low iron.

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Let's twizneet: @davemhuffman

I drive a minivan. And yep, I was the dude that said I never would. If you're scoffing at me, then you're next in line to get one, I guarantee it. Don't believe me? We traded in a 2007 Lexus ES 350 for a 2006 Chevy Uplander and it was the best decision I've made in my life. Reasons below.

THEY RUN LIKE A STRIPE'D ASS APE

My dad used to say that all the time and I had no idea what he was talking about. I still don't know how a stripe'd ass ape runs but, one day I was pulling out onto the highway and I mashed the pedal to the floor. I could've have swore that I was going to hit 85 miles per hour and rocket into the future like I was in the DeLorean or something and Doc Brown was going to pop out and yell "Where we're going we don't neeeeeed roads!"

THEY MAKE A STATEMENT

No that tattoo you got last week doesn't do the trick anymore. Everyone has a tattoo. Sure, it's cool...but it doesn't make the statement it once did. DRIVING A MINI VAN DOES. When I turn a corner, gas it and squeal the tires in a mini van, everyone knows that I mean business. Everyone knows that I could give a shit less about the cool factor of my car. And in a reverse way, that makes me cool.

THEY ARE CONVENTIONAL AS HELL

Eight kids, two dogs, and couple of adults? I'll drive! Plus, everyone can watch the latest episode of whatever in the hell their favorite show is because I have one of those sweet ass flip down DVD players. Wife kicks me out? Who cares...I'll live in the min van. It's almost like an apartment.

THEY ARE CHEAP (For the Most Part)

Sure, you've got your Cadillac of mini vans. The $35,000 - $45,000 fully loaded ones. But we found one for $10,000. That shit was paid off the day we drove it off the lot. You know what that means? No car payment. We were paying close to $800 a month for that Lexus, plus the insurance was high. That's close to $12,000 a year we're saving. The future is financial freedom...not looking cool. That bullshit is for the 80's.

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Let's twiggidy twizneet: @davemhuffman

I always try and play a song for Howie right before his bedtime.  I believe this was a Friday or Saturday.  Guster melodies are perfect for kids.  I've been told that Freely melodies are as well.  If you have any video of kids singing Jakob Freely songs, I'd love you forever if you emailed them to info@jakobfreely.com

I can't think of a damn thing today....

Shawnda said my blogs make us look like white trash rednecks.  I

What do you think?

I don't even know if that's how you spell that, but I have it in my garage.  In the form of mouse shit.  I've written before that I live in a hell hole and every day I stumble upon something else that confirms that I'm not being a drama queen about it.

This was another one of those things.

Does a mouse actually shit onto a pile?  Or maybe this was a rat and it had a ton of shit.  If so, when he finished, he went back to his buddies like "Damn...don't go over there!"

I just realized that this is going to be another post about poop.  Or shit, or whatever you call it.

The reason I just realized that is because when I was mowing last week I noticed that Emmitt had shit on the edge of the slide in the backyard.  Back in February or so, when we lived in Ohio, he shit on the edge of our fence.  I posted the pic on this blog, you might be able to dig for it...actually, I'll just post it below.



He did the same thing to the slide out in the backyard.  And I know it's real.  I've seen him lift his ass up and shit on the side of a tree before.  Almost as if marking his territory with piss isn't enough.  He has to make it so passersby go "God damn!  Don't go over there!"

 Anyways, this is what this mouse is doing.  No, not shitting on top of things...he's marking his territory with a mountain of turds. 

Any tips?  I've never been successful in getting rid of mice.  I don't think I've ever seen a mouse trap work...ever.

Below is a blog from a weekend on the road back in either 2006 or 2007, I can't remember. 

We learned a lot on this trip.  Mainly that Dennis had the creepiest text rington ever and that you can survive off of hotel continental breakfast, even if you aren't staying there...

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Oh. It was a weekend of firsts. First time as Jakob Freely in Tennessee. First time sleeping in the car. First time taking a shower at a truckstop. We played a show on Thursday with our dudez One Less Distraction in Dayton, OH. Pretty nice show, we weren't happy with how we performed, but the feedback was good. I'm getting some kind of TB in my lungs. Bobby keeps calling it the Eagle Flu, and I've been calling it SARS. We'll see when it develops. But it affected my voice, that's all I know. Our time going through Memphis and Nashville made me realize one thing. That we're freaking thugs on the road. After the show on Friday we drove about 30 miles out of Memphis and pulled over at a BP.

I turned off the car and tried to fall asleep sitting completely straight up. I mean, I was sitting so straight that I was closer to leaning forward. Dennis was in the back seat mumbling creepy ass nothings in his sleep while the ringtone on his phone repeated "Grandma got ran over by a reindeer...." I thought we'd be slaughtered any minute...it felt like a horror movie. We finally awoke around 5:30 a.m. after a couple hours and drove about 45 more miles and fell asleep at another truck stop. After that one we stumbled down the road about an hour or so and landed at yet another truck stop for a hot shower. Five bucks gets you a hot shower at a truck stop. Yea, you might walk away with AIDS on your feet from the floor, but you'll feel better and you don't have to spend money on a hotel. I'll tell you another thing we discovered you don't have to spend money on while you're on the road. Sex. I'm kidding, I mean breakfast.

While Dennis was getting his shower, Bobby and I went down the road to the nearest Days Inn. I parked in the back, and Bobby weaved his way through doors to the front area where the Continental breakfast is held. He proceeded to fill his pockets with honeybuns, apples, orange juice, and the lady there even made him fresh coffee as she asked him how he slept. "Great!" he yawned..."What's the weather going to be like today??" Classic small talk question.

The following is a journal entry after a show in Morehead, KY back in 2005.  I'm going to be recycling these to transfer them over to this page. 

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I gotta tell you...I start most of these journal entries with things like "Oh" and "Man" and "Jesus" because it makes everything sound more dramatic and I guess kind of sets the tone for what I'm about to dramatize. But I'm for real this time. We played another show down in Morehead for the Delt and TEK Frats at a place called the Cider House. Our buddy Bryan Gavin of One Less Distraction joined us to play some O.L.D tunes beforehand. And I'm serious. You'll never understand how f*king crazy they are down there. There aren't enough words in the english language to do it justice. After 4 hours on the road we finally arrived and the first thing the lady who owned the place said when she saw us is "I gotta talk to you and you're not going to like it..." So Bobby goes into panic mode...and I just walk away because I'm kind of a puss when it comes to initial confrontation. But anyways, they double booked us with another band. Fast forward a bit...Big Joe from the Delts came in and laid the hammer down...the other band was cool as hell...the show went on.

Right before we went on some crazy asshole completely shattered a urinal in the men's restroom. No, you don't understand. I don't think you could even do this with dynamite...the damage he did. I don't know how he got it into that many peices. Then someone ripped the toilet stall out of the floor. Fuckers were spilling beers everywhere...jumping up onstage. I don't know what it is man, but you'd think sometimes we were fucking Pantera or something the way people react at our shows. About 3/4 of the time we play a show in our hometown a fight breaks out at the end of the night. Weird. But, somewhere in the night we lost Gavin and his crew.

Bobby tried to call him a few times to no avail. Hope he makes it back to Dayton. Check in with his journal...I bet they got lost and stumbled upon some woodsmen. Speaking of woodsmen, Bobby called me in his drunking stupor to tell me that he was in jail. He sounded very distraught and concerned that he was going to be in a lot of trouble. Keep in mind we are deep in the backhills of Kentucky. I ask him what happened and he said...and I quote..."We were standing out by the fire and then I looked over and a Mountain Man ran out of the woods and was about to ass rape Skeens, so I flipped out and beat the shit out of him...so the sheriff arrested me." I just went ahead and hung up as he was laughing in my ear. Oh well, all in all it was a damn good night. The people love to party down there...harder than anywhere I've been in awhile. So it always makes for a good time.

The mice will play.  Is that what they say?  Down by the bay, while we eat some hay and watch our hair turn gray.  I just may... 

As soon as I noticed that was going to rhyme I had to finish the Adam Sandler reference.

Anyways, I don't much feel like a mouse.  More like some kind of god damn beast dragon hawk lion cow.  And I try to convince Howie of that now too because if he's gonna grow up and be a good person he needs to know that Dad is just nuts enough to do some crazy shit if he fucks up.

But for now we'll just put that aside because I think with him being 16 months, it'd just cause more trauma.  So I'll act like a DragonHawkLionCow and chase him around the house, but all in good fun.  Moo'ing and farting and stuff...

When he's 10 years old though, ol' Dragonhawk Dad will take on a new life.  A new personality.  It'll start off subtlely, only emerging when he screws up.  But by the time he's 15, I'll have a new name.  I don't know what it'll be yet, but he'll be so scared to sneak out or do anything that he'll shit himself just thinking about it.  Something along the same lines as Atreyu or Snuphaluphagus.  Snuph used to scare the holy shit out of me.  I was terrified of him.  If he was my dad I don't know what I would've done.

Ok, maybe I won't do all that...I can talk a good game.  If you don't know me.

The picture above is a snapshot of the basement.

I can wreck a house faster than anyone or anything I know.  And with Howie on my side, man we are a couple of mean son of a bitches.  The only thing missing is a bunch of gooey shit smudged all over the place and I'm about 5 minutes from making that happen if I don't finish this blog in the next 30 seconds.

If you look closely at the picture it even looks like the dog is dead. 

He is.

No, he's not calm down.

Ok, I just checked and he is.

No he's not he just moved.

I recorded a few tunes last night.  One of which was a lullaby that Shawnda and I wrote for Howie before he was born.  Shawnda actually wrote the chorus.  You can download it here.  It's called Mama Said, but we also call it Bed Bugs.

I need to get a shower too.  I smell like the inside of a goat's ass. 

Til tomorrow.