An Open Letter To Al Gore

February 8, 2010

Dear Vice President Gore,

You are the champion of Mother Earth and all things green.  In our domestic endeavors, Domestic Gods should, too, be good stewards of the environment.  Because you teach that it is our responsibility to live “green” on NBC sitcoms, I am writing you this letter.

Mr. Gore, I fear I may need to make a citizen’s arrest.  My family’s carbon footprint is that of Sasquatchian proportions. Let me explain.  My wife and two sons are wonderful people-great Americans.  But, they are highly negligent when it comes to your Mother.  Of course when I say “Your Mother” , I am referring to Mother Earth, not the late Mrs. Gore from Tennessee.

My 8-year-old son Colton takes half an hour showers daily.  Once he gets under the water-I simply cannot get him out.  It is as if he slips into a catatonic state.  Our 5-year-old son, Little Rusty, uses the toilet approximately every 12 minutes.  He has more flushes in a day than poker legend Phil Helmuth.  Then, once we convince him to wash his hands, he more often than not leaves the faucet running.  I cannot lie,  but on a recent out-of-town trip our family came home to find the bathroom faucet had been left on for two days.   I already feel bad enough about this water abuse, that I cannot bring myself to tell you about the alarming quantity of toilet paper that is consumed weekly in our home. Our toilets are more clogged than Elvis’ arteries. Let’s just say that Roto Rooter is on my speed dial.

Then there is our garbage situation.  Our average weekly garbage production matches that of a small third world country.  We have but four people living in our modest home, yet we somehow manage to fill a half a dozen garbage cans up each week.  If you know, or can create, some way to subsidize us for our amazing garbage production, it would be a great help–because we are good at it!  Also, I hate to confess this to you, but we don’t recycle.  Please forgive us.  It is not that we are against recycling, but my oldest son neglected to bring the recycle bin back from the curb and it was run over by a truck, rendering it useless. (Question: the mangled recycle bin is plastic.  Should I recycle it?)

Lastly, I need to tell you about the chronic electrical abuses perpetrated by my roommates.  I don’t know if there is a clinical name for their condition.  Perhaps you know?  My wife and kids suffer from an insidious disorder that precludes them from ever turning off a light, television or anything with a switch.  There are times that 4 tvs, 12 lights and 4 fans  left on-while no one is home.  I am certain that we will never be robbed–because it appears that we never leave.

Mr Gore, this Domestic God feels he has failed you and failed Mother Earth.  I try to be responsible with water use, garbage and recycling and electricity use, but I feel that the people I live with are out to undermine my agenda.  These people are  a slippery and their resolve seems strong.  I fear that I, alone, may not be able to make this citizen’s arrest.  Could you please send Ed Begley Jr. and the Green Police to my home to help take my wife and children into custody?  I will miss them while they are away in your Green Internment Camp–but I believe this is the only way we can break them of their anti-environmental actions. Please have mercy on their souls.

I look forward to hearing from you.  Tell Ed Begley to knock three times before the bust.

Environmentally Yours,

Moby Homemaker: Domestic God

P.S.  Congratulations on your movie!  I understand that it’s very good.  I apologize that I haven’t seen it.  The fact is; I’m not really into documentaries or Melissa Etheridge.  Perhaps on the dvd you could incorporate Steven Seagall (with ponytail, please), some sort of huge robotic spiders, some explosions, naked chicks and a couple of Megadeth songs.  I would then love to give a quick review of it on my “A/V Corner”.


Dish washing: my domestic “jumble”

February 6, 2010

There is no doubt, no matter how much we may hate it, that during your rise to Domestic Godliness you will do the dishes. Much like the laundry and the mail, dirty dishes NEVER stop.  As I write this entry, I am staring at a pile of pots and pans, bowls and plates, Tupperware and cups, and silverware–a profusion of knives, forks and spoons.

I noticed early on in my spell as Domestic God, that there is a cross-section of people who simply don’t give a shit about dirty dishes.  Apparently, three of these types of thinkers live in my very home.  I’m not going to mention any names, but I an NOT one of them.  In days of yore these people may be considered “slobs”, but thanks to tv shows like “Clean House”, we now call these types of people “messy” and in need of our help.  By the way, have you seen this “Clean House” show???   It’s on some channel called Style Network.  Not to get too off topic, but, the premise of the show is that Deputy Raineesha Williams from “Reno 911” finds the messiest homes in America.  Instead of ridiculing these people and using the power of a low rated cable outlet to ostracize them from society, Deputy Williams brings in cleaning crews to dig out the “messy” house from filth, sell off useless junk in a yard sale, and redesign the home.  If “Trading Spaces” and “Hoarders” had hot monkey love and produced a bastard child–“Clean House” would be it.

This show is unreal.  Finally, proof positive, that our society now rewards people for being completely irresponsible assholes.  Maybe I’m just jealous, maybe I want Deputy Jones and her crew of minions to help save me!  Wait, a Domestic God would never let his castle to turn into such a horrifying mess!  But, a little help would be nice.  Perhaps a “roadie” could periodically come around and pick up plates from the family room, or the piled up bowls in the basement or the sippy cup in my goddamned bed!  Or, here’s a better idea–maybe the people who left them there could rinse and wash those dishes themselves!!! That idea has proven too difficult in our home, so I have taken the dirty dish reigns.  We wouldn’t want a “messy house” now would we?

Domestic Deity sometimes calls for making “lemonade out of lemons”.  That is a such a ninny cliché, but it is true.  So, what I have done is transformed  a loathsome task like doing the dishes into a game; like a puzzle or the “jumble” you see in the back of the newspaper.   What I do is, I take the pile of dirty dishes, open the dishwasher and attempt to get as many dishes in the washer as possible.  I am sure that this practice is not approved by the good folks at Maytag; but screw ’em, they have never seen the sheer  daily dish volume  that I do.

My dish washing ” jumble” game is a combination of speed, endurance and puzzle solving.  My record: 248 pieces in one load. Our dishwasher is a modest one–so I defy anyone to beat it.  This record feat didn’t come easy.  I suffered a lacerated finger and a sore back. But, I pressed through. I was in the zone.  I could see three and four moves ahead-crockpot on the top shelf, glasses below, Tupperware wedged in between. Everything just fit.  And after the wash cycle was complete; every piece was cleaned-no rewashing necessary. I contacted Guinness about the world record.  They told me there was no such record and that they were not interested.  I’ll give them a pass-their beer is really tasty.

As in life, Domestic Deity sometimes requires you to do things you don’t always like.  Doing the dishes is one of those things.  I say embrace it.  Make it your own.  Have some fun with the mundane.  In the end, it could be worse… it actually beats watching an episode of “Clean House” with your wife.

The Beer Frame

February 4, 2010

During my ascent to Domestic Deity, I have learned a great number of things.  Perhaps the greatest of these is that I discovered how much I LOVE the bowling alley!  The bowling alley always has had a certain je ne sais quoi-filled with wonderful characters, and -ah.. the smell of booze and cigarettes.  Little did I know this same place would be such a great spot for a family “afternoon out”. I always liked the bowling alley…but now, I am truly enamored with it.

Days can get long and even boring when it is just the kids and Dear Ol’ Domestic God Dad.  I have often found that the kids will hound me looking for something “to do”.  Of course cleaning up or their chores are quickly ruled out by my moppet roommates. My normal response to that rejection comes from the great baseball player and philosopher Yogi Berra, “You have a brother.  Go play with him.”  Sometimes this just is not enough and we all have to get out of the house and have some fun.  Little did I know that have some “fun” could apply to me, as well.

I had come across some free bowling game coupons recently and asked my sons if they would like to go bowling. Enthusiastically, they accepted my invitation.  Our local bowling alley is less than a mile away.  I had no idea just how lucky we were to have lanes this close to home.

Upon arrival, Colton, Little Rusty and I paid for our games and rented our shoes.  Rusty was in heaven “wearing someone elses’ shoes”.  Colton was excited to learn that bumpers could be enabled to prevent the dreaded gutter balls.  And I was surprised and thrilled to learn that the alley had afternoon drink specials from the waitress who came down to greet us at our lane. Holy balls-kids happy, Domestic God elated!

My kids could be gifted athletes–hell if I know from bowling, though.  All I know is that they weren’t fighting and I hadn’t spent much dough on this “field trip”.  The one thing that I definitely concluded is that not only is drinking condoned during bowling-it is encouraged.  Are you aware of the “Beer Frame”?  I wasn’t  until the parameters were shown on the score board. Apparently, the “Beer Frame” occurs when 2+ bowlers are bowling, and all but one person get a strike in the same frame.  The person who didn’t strike then buys beers for everyone that struck.

Let me tell you, with the bumpers up–Colton and I took Little Rusty in frour frames.  Of course, Colton is only 8–so I had his beers-and we had 2 for 1 games, so I let Rusty off the hook and had the cheap “on special beer”.  And is it just me; or does the bowling alley have especially large draft beers?  Needless to say, after our games, I needed to give the boys quarters for the video game arcade–because during the course of our family bowl “Moby Homemaker” had turned into “Dr. Inky”–actually, his evil cousin “Dr. Unk”.

After the quarters had run out–the good Doctor was still on a house call with me.  So, I proposed the next part of our “family fun day”-a super fun “nature” walk home!  Little Rusty asked if he would be able to “Ninja Pee” on our “hike”.  (He calls the practice of whipping out his ding dong and pissing wherever, “Ninja Peeing”)  Dr. Unk told him, of course!  So Ninja Peeing commenced behind our local Taco Bell.  Like I said, we are extremely fortunate to have the bowling alley so close to home!

Domestic Diety has shown me that I can have fun adventures with the boys.  In fact, we try to have one at the bowling alley every so often.  And now, we ‘ve added a new part to the field trip–an exciting ride in a real, live taxi!

The Commandments (part Trois)

February 3, 2010

The first four Commandments for becoming a “Domestic God” focused primarily on keeping your wife off of your ass. This is extremely important.  But, a Domestic God also needs time for himself-time to reflect, unwind, learn, and compete while the kids are at school.

TV and masturbation will only get you through a small part of the day.  Put them together, and you’ve killed even less time…  I now give you two more “Commandments” to make sure you stay sharp and sane–like a Domestic God should be.

THOU SHALL LEARN TO READ.  Reading actually does not suck.  Unlike grade school, high school, and college, you can now actually read stuff that INTERESTS you!  You can read about finding a new job, politics, history, torrid love affairs, pop culture, you can read about ANYTHING!!! I learned more about reading by going to a place called a “library”.  I had been unaware of these emporiums of information.  Get this; it’s fuckin’ free!!!  Sorry, but I get really excited about free stuff.  In your downtime, get a library card.  I am there twice a week.  In addition to books, you can even borrow dvds and cds–yes, for fuckin’ free!  Your kids will love a surprise “Sponge Bob” DVD and you will be able to finally check out the unrated version of “Showgirls” that you heard so much about.  Use this place–you are paying taxes for it.

A caveat to this Commandment is learning to just turn off the television.  There ain’t shit on–during the day.  News is the only thing an educated person can handle for more than a few hours during the day…and the news is not great.  Avoiding things that will further depress you is key. Turn on some music, or if possible, get yourself Sirius radio.  The Howard Stern Show is a fantastic way to avoid TV. Listening to the “Hair Nation” channel is also good. (There it’s still, and always will be, the 80’s–remember the time before you had kids, you had zero responsibility and a kick ass mullet!)  Satellite radio is a wonderful tool to compliment reading, cleaning,  watching “Showgirls”, etc.

THOU SHALL PLAY WII.  Anyone who knows me, knows that I am not a gamer.  The last video game that I was any good at was Defender on Atari.  But last Christmas Santa brought this “Wii thing” to our home.  This system is amazing! I am lobbying our library to get Wii games–that would be amazing!  But I digress, one beauty of Wii is that it will allow you to play golf everyday.  (I shot a -13 the other day) Wii also provides me the opportunity to play drums for The Beatles on a solid “medium” level. (Suck on that Gringo Starr!).  The Wii will help kill some time and get you off your ass–without having to workout.  Not to mention the kids LOVE this thing!!!

So, if you follow these commandments for Domestic Deity, you can have a day where you play 18 holes of golf, explore new and exciting subjects and, in theory, bang Jesse Spano from “Saved By The Bell”.

Maybe being a Domestic God ain’t so bad…?

Laundry-a Tormented Love Story

February 1, 2010

Laundry.  What more needs to be said?  What more can you say about it?

Laundry, sometimes I feel like you are my only friend.  You are ALWAYS there for me.  Like love, you grow and grow and grow….  You come in so many colors and sizes.  Sometimes you are the only thing that is on my mind.

I know your scent.  I feel your omnipresence.  Laundry, you have no idea how much you impact my life.

I have always done the laundry at our house.  Even before I was laid off, I handled 99% of laundry related matters.  No disrespect to my wife; but if I didn’t do it–I don’t know if or when it may get done.  It is my cross to bear.

I believe that my family and I could be millionaires if we were paid by our laundry production.  I know every day that I come down the stairs to our basement, a pile of dirty clothes will greet me.  And each time you greet me, I find myself with questions.  Theses questions are unanswered, and perhaps are unanswerable.

How can three diminutive people whose combined weight is under 200 pounds produce well  over 200 lbs. of laundry each week?

Why does my 5 year-old seemingly wear 25 plus pairs of underpants each week?

Does this same 5 year-old wear but one sock?  I ask this, because as God is my witness, he does not have one matching pair of socks.

Why is it always only one of my wife’s brand new light color shirts that finds it way into the dark, dark red load?

And why is she so goddamned mad when it turns the prettiest shade of tie dyed pink?  Truthfully, I am a psychedelic artist in my opinion.  I could have a very lucrative career selling my art to trust fund hippie college kids at Phish shows.

And what the hell do these kids eat?  I find more skid marks than at the starting line of the local drag strip.

After a successful round of laundry I am rewarded with what? An ice-cold beer?  A stuffed pizza?  A roll in the hay?  No, it is none of these.  My reward is the bane of my existence….fucking FOLDING these clothes,  clothes that are not even mine!!!   Folding laundry fucking blows.  There is no good way to do it.  If  I avoid the folding, everything gets wrinkled and I will be left  to take crap from an 8 year-old over the shape of his favorite baseball jersey!  And God forbid if everyone finds the clothes they need in the morning…  I cannot win.  I can only hope to survive.

Like the ancient Chinese proverb says, Calgon take me away.

Domestic Deity unfortunately requires at least some laundry.  Trust me, you will never get away from this one scott free.  I guess you can chalk laundry up into the “what doesn’t kill us will make us stronger” category…

Laundry, you complete me.  I will see you again tomorrow.    xoxo –MH:DG

The Commandments (pt. II)

January 30, 2010

As promised earlier, I told you that I would be revealing a series of rules or “Commandments” to achieving  “Domestic Godliness” while you are filling the role of an “At Home Dad”.  I will now bestow upon you two more of these commandments that will ensure that your better half will stay off your ass…and possibly give you some.  Let’s face it, being out of work is bad enough–keeping your sanity for your family and yourself is paramount during these trying times.

THOU SHALT SHOWER AND SHAVE EVERY DAY. (or at least give the appearance that you did).  A wise man once told me “Get showered, get dressed , GET MOVING!”.  No, this was not my drill sergeant on Paris Island. In fact, it was my father.  This was a man who raised five sons–he was harder than any drill sergeant in the Marines.  Needless to say, his direction was convincing.

One cannot achieve Domestic Deity without getting out of bed.  Much like drinking all day, lying around all day is a tempting proposition.  But you need to get the kids moving, do some chores, look for work and play video games.  One can only accomplish a few of those goals from the warmth and comfort of bed.  Every day, you need to muster up the energy and drive to shave and shower, or you will run the risk of looking like the “Let It Be ” era Beatles.  Yes, it worked for them–but they had a job, selling a billion records.  I know, this is not always easy.  From time to time you can take a day off.  Feel free to take a “Polish Shower”.  I would like to thank my Polish friends for this practice.  For those of you unfamiliar, a Polish Shower occurs when instead of taking a shower you just wet a washcloth and go over the parts of your body that smell.  This coupled with a “soap shave” and some  cologne will make even your wife believe that you made the time to get yourself in gear to take on the day!  She won’t be able to jump all over you for lying around like a slug; and she may even jump ON you because you don’t look and smell like one of the Black Crowes.

Next, THOU SHALL COOK AND CLEAN. This is a topic that will be further explored often.  In our never-ending quest to become a Domestic God and at the same time keep our wives happy, upholding this Commandment is of paramount importance.   Bottom line, you are home most of the day.  Between looking for employment, dealing with kids and looking for eroticism on the net, you have a few moments to clean up and maybe put an easy meal together.  I’m not saying that you take the place of your cleaning lady that had to be relieved when you lost your job or  that you be like that hot little red head  from “Charlie Wilson’s War” who was in that chick flick with Meryl Streep–who cooks Julia Child’s gourmet every night.  But you need to keep the place in order.  Get those Clorox disinfectant wipes.  They clean EVERYTHING. (I am on pace to break the land speed record for cleaning a bathroom by spring!) And simply vacuuming actually gives the “appearance” of really hard domestic labor!  In a matter of a few minutes, you can show your hard-working spouse that you care enough about her and your family to keep a tidy home.  Topping that off with an EASY dinner (like a baked ravioli/lasagna dish recipe that I will share with you later) will be as effective as a Nora Ephron film…without putting in the two plus hours of Tom Hanks, Meg Ryan, some annoying little bastard, and Harry Connick songs.

And never underestimate the power of a scented candle.  It makes EVERYTHING smell better.

Decorum prohibits me from explaining what your wife may do if you follow all this up by doing the dishes…..

I will provide you with more commandments to ensure a happy and horny wife….and acheiving Domestic Deity.

The Commandments (Part 1)

January 28, 2010

If you find yourself in my situation as an At Home Dad or, as I call it a “Domestic God”; you need to know that there are some unwritten rules.  These rules are fluid…but some are steadfast.  I wish to discuss a couple of them now.  Once you learn and practice these “Commandments” if you will, the movement to Domestic Deity will be easier…and your chances of getting laid regularly (by your wife, of course) will increase.

Just as God bestowed His Commandments on Noah (or was it Moses?); I bestow the Commandments for turning you from a mere “At Home Dad”  to Domestic God upon you.

First, although the temptation will be great; THOU SHALL NOT SPEND THE DAY DRINKING! This one is a biggie.  Trust me, I like beer–who am I shitting–I LOVE beer.  Being laid off might seem like  “vacation time” and what’s more fun to do on vacation than pounding some brews?!?   I experimented with this concept early on and let me assure you, it is a BAD IDEA.  First off, Moms may be able to get away with it–but Dads simply cannot show up to pick their kids at school with a buzz (or worse).  Not only can you risk the chance of hurting someone, but men look really creepy when they are hanging out in front of school, even sober.  Also, I am fairly confident that most wives really don’t want to come home from a long day at work to find the kids out of control, the house a mess, and Dear Ol’ Dad passed out in front of “Ellen”. Although it is not obvious, you may see the possible correlation to the sex thing here…

Next, THOU SHALL NOT FRATERNIZE WITH THE AT-HOME MOMMIES. Stay at home Mommies are everywhere it seems….at school, at the store, on Facebook.  They rarely seem to be “at home” at all. This rule is pretty self-explanatory, folks.  Your work is that of Domestic God; not gossiping with the girls over lunch. If you think your wife will be pissed that you were drunk all day….imagine how the situation escalates when you add your old girlfriend Sue (who you just reconnected with on Facebook) in the mix? I know a lot of people are addicted to Facebook, but -Hey, Dudes, stay off it while your better half is at work!  Sometimes while you are laid off, the days can be long and even lonely…so go read a book, have some tea while listening to soothing music, or find a good free porno site.

Following these two simple Commandments will assist in your elevation to Domestic God….and will keep your wife off of your ass. Looking for gainful employment is a tough enough deal–keeping your wife from busting your nuts during this time is paramount for your sanity.

Also, although there has been no scientific proof, I will guarantee your chances of regular consensual sex with your spouse will increase if the aforementioned rules are strictly adhered to.  Just as Moses gathered animals by two to board the ark (or was that Noah?), so too will more Commandments be revealed in due time.

P.S.  THOU SHALL COMMENCE HAPPY HOUR AFTER 5:00pm  (or 4:00 if it is a really nice day). –MH:DG

Outta Work…Outta Hand

January 26, 2010

In case you have missed it; our country is in the midst of a deep recession.

Depending on which figures you look at; Unemployment is anywhere from 10% to nearly 20%.

I am one of those statistics.  I live in a medium-sized , middle class, Midwestern hamlet.

Nearly a year ago I had a “dream job” with one of those companies that got a bunch of bailout money….today I am an “At Home Dad” tending to two young boys.  My wife calls me “Mr. Mom”…I prefer “Little Moby Homemaker: Domestic God“.  If we are going to use 80’s pop culture references, I prefer to borrow from the once great Roseanne Barr, as opposed to the 1983 Michael Keaton movie, where he loses his job and stays home to tend to the kids while his wife (played by Teri Garr) goes to work.  For many reasons–that reference hits a bit too close to home for me.  Not to mention that my physical appearance and demeanor really resembles Roseanne more than Michael Keaton anyway.  So…

My wife is a hard-working, smart, cute teacher…my sons and I are a lucky brood.  Her job is a decent and stable one.  So, my story is no American “tragedy”…I prefer to think of it as a colossal American “pain in the ass”.

I am not alone in this situation.  There are many of us out here.  Those of us who went to college, worked hard  and were born with penises; we thought that we would have wives to take care of our homes and families while we worked, travelled and had dinners and drinks on corporate expense accounts.  We were wrong.  At least, I was.

I have  found this “job” to be the most demanding and lowest paying that I have ever had.  It’s like “Roots”…but that mini-series actually had an ending.  Before you go and jump on me for such a hyperbolic comparison; I know homemaking is not  anywhere as bad as SLAVERY!  But let’s be honest–when slaves broke free, they could run to freedom.  At least there was a small chance to break the shackles of the oppressive and evil captors and gain amnesty. If I run, I have a five-year old who will chase me down relentlessly without mercy or abandon for snacks.  Plus, I’m too fat to run anyway. The “chains” that bind me are truly hefty ones…..

This blog is a chronicle of my time as a Domestic God.  As shitty as I think my situation is, I have learned that it could be far worse.  In fact, a lot of funny shit happens.  In case the word “shit”, or any other curse words offend you (I am guessing that my Mother will at some point read this)–I sincerely apologize.  But being around two young boys all day, this about the only fuckin’ time that I can spit out such filth.  I want to share this filth with others who are hoping to achieve Domestic Deity.

Come back soon.We’ll leave the light on for you. (sorry Tom Bodette from Motel 6…but I haven’t come up with a good sign off  just yet…and  “Homemaker- out” was just too gay.)  -MH:DG