I’m a nominee in the category “Humorous Short of a Minor Relative and Family Pet in Bad Light with No Audio, Blog Post.” You may recall the film I posted here last year…in which our family cat swoops in to eat my daughter’s Ritz cracker, which has fallen on the floor. My daughter then turns to the camera and gives a precious befuddled look that I believe cinched our nomination. You just can’t teach that kind of acting, and as a director I’m blessed to work with an actor who really channels her inner muse and manages to find a thread within her character and just runs with it. She’s such a pro, and really, this nomination is for her, not me. I’m just glad she’s getting the attention she deserves.

I’d show you the video, but I sold the rights to a mid-major studio. (And you didn’t hear it from me, but it’s all over the Internet, so just look for it over there.)

I must say, I was impressed with the rigorous vetting these films received from the Academy. I was required to provide a birth certificate to prove my daughter is a “relative,” the “bad lighting” criterion was verified with a spectromeasurometer, and apparently they interviewed hundreds of film professionals before determining my film actually qualified as “humorous.”

As a director, I would have it no other way. We pour our souls into our work, so it’s refreshing to know some schmoe can’t just waltz into this category.

Anywho, the next month will surely be a daze, what with the endless interviews and comparisons to seminal blog video posts as “Baby Falling Asleep in High Chair” and “Man Takes Wiffle Ball to the Groin.” I’ll let others debate my place in history. My job is to stay grounded and remain committed to my work.

Thank you to all who support my art form. I’m blessed to be able to do what I love, and all the attention and fawning is just gravy.

See you at the after party!

As you all know, I’m a humble realist…a worker bee…someone who achieves dizzying success on a daily basis but doesn’t seek accolades. (The accolades just naturally find me.) So to ponder this “turning 40″ concept, I decided to seek out some peers…to learn from those who are walking my same path.

I interact every day with wonderful people in my age group. Mothers and fathers, friends and co-workers…salt-of-the-Earth souls who live life the right way…people who’ve shed delusions of grandeur and have tapped into simple happiness. So I decided to choose two such people…not so much as role models but as wingmen. People I can relate to. Fellow 40-year-olds who share my outlook and with whom I can share my thoughts.

I chose Brett Favre and Jennifer Aniston.

In addition to all of us being 40, I find I have a lot in common with Brett and Jennifer. And that’s the point — I don’t mirror everything they do, nor do they copy me 100%. We’re unique individuals with similar qualities.

If you’re not familiar with them, here are some photos:

Let’s start with Brett. Despite slowing down physically and needing more time to recover from our activities, we both continue to dominate athletically. I haven’t talked with him lately, because we’re both slammed at work, but it’s interesting to watch our careers arc in unison.

Brett’s tearing it up with the Vikings, and I’m with him every step. The only difference — he focuses on football, while I’m a multi-sport athlete. I was hitting my boys in stride throw after throw this weekend as they ran their posts patterns to the mailbox and fade routes to the sewer. And I pounded the strike zone all morning thowing BP to my 11 & under baseball team. I don’t know if it’s work ethic or love of the game that keeps me and Brett at the top of our game. It’s probably just exceptional talent.

As for Jenny…I have to laugh. Neither of us is particularly vain, which is fortunate, because it would be easy to get caught up in how beautiful we are. For both of us, life is about happiness, not attention. Granted, I’ve been happily married for 15 years while Jenny’s struggled with relationships, but that’s where I’ve been able to help her. And she helps me by keeping me abreast of the latest hairstyling trends. It’s a two-way street for Jenny and me — a strikingly gorgeous two-way street.

So if you’re approaching a milestone, I urge you to find a buddy…someone walking your same path. Maybe it’s the mail man, store clerk, or co-worker. But find a peer you can relate with…not aspire to.

Find your Brett and Jenny, and you too can age with the humble awesomeness that we have. Keep it real!

San Francisco Perspective. If you’re looking for a way to help your kids grasp the magnitude of last week’s earthquake, consider this: The Haiti quake measured a  7.0; the 1989 San Francisco quake was 6.9 — essentially identical earthquakes. The death toll in Haiti is pushing 200,000. San Francisco’s death toll — 63.

That disparity and the many causes/implications there of are staggering. This is an opportunity to talk with your kids about the impacts of poverty…the benefits of a structured government…the role of building codes and inspectors…purpose of taxes…the evils of corruption…and the need for a world view.

Honestly, kids who are exposed to such conversations and concepts become the adults who can think with depth and creativity. The other kids will join the mass of dolts and lummoxes.

Media Coverage. I’ve heard several commentators and media outlets compliment themselves for their outstanding coverage of the relief efforts. I agree that the broadcast media are doing well. But that’s in relation to their generally poor coverage of everything else.

The role of media is to report news. Problem is, media  outlets wildly outnumber newsworthy events. As a result, they’re forced to fill their time with “analysis” — otherwise known as “poorly educated vapid opinion.”

So now we have an event that truly is news. The situation is very fluid in Haiti, and we need updates on the rescue effort, airport operations, looting, the wounded, death toll, costs, Haitian leadership, global leadership, and so on.

In short, news media are finally doing their job. And when we start hearing reports about “what should have been done differently”…we’ll know things have plateaued in Haiti.

Cell Phone Nation. For perhaps the first time in a decade, the existence of cell phones has had a positive effect rather than sapping society of decorum and common sense. The ability to text HAITI to 90999 and donate $10 to the Red Cross has been incredibly successful. According to the Red Cross, as of yesterday the texting program has raised $20 million. At $10/pop, that’s 2 million donations. Amazing.

And it’s safe to assume the majority of those texters are under the age of 30, a demographic that isn’t typically at the top end of charitable giving. So much of that $20 million represents “new money” in the disaster relief arena. Sure, some of these texters probably don’t even realize the $10 will show up on their bill…maybe they think it’s some form of text magic…or more than likely, they have no clue how it works. Ignorance and a cell phone is charitable bliss.

So I’m wondering — will the media give Abdulmutallab a cool nickname like they gave Mohammed?

Remember that? The media call him “KSM.” (Wall Street Journal did it; so do CBS and Fox.) It’s entirely too difficult to spell out…or even say…Khalid Sheik Mohammed. Couldn’t possibly expect journalists to spit all that out, and Lord knows we Americans can’t be expected to process such bizarre names. Farouk? Abdulmutallab? I’m confused already.

Plus, nicknames put a human face on these terrorists. So maybe Abdulmutallab will become known by his initials, ”UFA.” We could call him “Ufa.” That sounds nice.

Or we could stop being so formal and just call them by their first names, Khalid and Umar. Terrorists have such a bad reputation – nicknames could help soften their image.

In fact, we could relieve much of the angst surrounding the whole terrorist concept if we gave them really cool nicknames. Like “Blaze”…or “Viper.” Wouldn’t that just be great!

So I’m excited to see how the media play up Super Fly’s trial….oops, that’s my nickname for Abdulmutallab. I don’t know if it will stick. Given that he carried the explosives in his underwear, I wouldn’t be surprised if the media call him something like “Farouk of the Loom,”…or just “Wedgie.” But that seems cruel.

We’ll just have to wait and see. Keep up the good work, media!

Merry Christmas! We hope this card finds you with all the blessings…well, we just hope this finds you. Here’s what we’ve been up to all year, since we haven’t spent the time communicating with the likes of you:

My wife’s been busy with Tot-Toos, her new chain of semi-permanent tattoo parlors for toddlers. (The tattoos are semi-permanent, but at this rate, the parlors appear to be very temporary.)

I’m finally living my dream, as a choreographer for the Fox hit “Glee.”

Our eldest is 13 now so, you know, he’s cool. His day was fine. Whatever. Geez!

Our 10-year-old is fascinated by Twitter…so much so that he will now only communicate via Tweets. While the house is much quieter, it can be challenging to communicate with our son. Ironically, he doesn’t even have a cell phone – his “tweets” consist of wadded-up balls of paper that he throws at us.

Our youngest is a girl…and the youngest, so she’s perfect and spoiled, of course, as nature and common sense dictate.

And that’s about it. We hope with all our might that your every dream come true in the New Year. We also hope to actually speak with you next year. Just don’t count on it.

Peace!

But what really appeals to me in these commercials are the bows – the gargantuan red bows. Do people actually use these things, or are they only found in prop rooms at commercial studios? I’ve certainly never witnessed anyone receiving a gift with such a bow. And I know they’re not sold in the stationery section at Target.

Not surprisingly, these bows exist online. Carbows.com and largegiftbows.com sell them. [We should have known, right? Feltparkas.com probably sells soft rain gear, and we can likely buy rock paperweights at dumbgifts.com.]

I haven’t engaged in a lengthy search…I’m not fully committed yet…but it appears the bows online max out at 2 feet (for about $40). That just doesn’t match the 5-footers I see on TV. So I may continue the quest.

And when I find one, here’s my plan — I’m a gonna tie that on my car…or my wife’s car…and just let people think what they may. Did I receive a car as a gift? Did I give a car to my wife? Are we far wealthier than anyone realizes? Is Lexus now sponsoring DwyerTime? Who’s to say.

Or…maybe my wife and I will pull a little stunt. When my wife is at the kids’ school, I’ll put the bow on her car in the parking lot. Then, when she comes out, she can start squealing and jumping and thanking me in front of all her friends. They’ll be so impressed that I bought her a car!

Of course, some smartass will probably say, “Why did your husband buy you a used Ford?” Or that know-it-all Peggy will tell my wife, “If you already have an old white station wagon, why would you want another one?”

Friends can really be irritating. So I’ll teach them — I’ll put the big red bow on their car in the school parking lot. Then we can all ask them annoying questions.

I don’t know. Maybe the Internet has a User’s Guide to Big Bows, because I don’t want to look like a fool.

Gift-giving is treacherous.

Maybe I’ll stick with those ridiculous gift bags, and avoid wrapping altogether. But how do I fit a car into a bag?

Hmmm…GiftBagsForCars.com…

Here’s a video demonstrating the unbridled joy kids experience with these toys. It’s bizarre and hilarious…and you won’t be disappointed. Here’s what you’ll see:

• First, check out the 2nd girl in the video…the one on the right. She’s clearly overwhelmed by these electic hamsters – all she can do is point indiscriminately. The girl’s parents must be mighty pleased with those acting classes they sprung for. The director must have said, “OK, Jenny, you’re the pointer…I want you to point point point…see a Zhu Zhu and point!…bang bang bang, Can you do that for me?”
• Second thing I noticed…where is this commercial supposed to be taking place? It’s obviously not a kid’s room — a cavernous space with multi-colored lighting, devoid of furniture save for 3K worth of Zhu Zhu products? Or are we looking at a secured wing of a psychiatric ward, where children with pointing problems can be left alone with electric pseudo-pets?

So before you buy your kid a zhu zhu for christmas — hip-checking fellow parents into the shelves to get your mitts on one — watch the above video a few times. Is your child ready for such fun? Or will she be reduced to a poor little pointer girl?

“Say hello to my little sheep!”

You know how it’s common to have a pair of granite lions out front of important public buildings, like libraries and courthouses? If you didn’t know that, you need to pay more attention to your surroundings. Maybe these will ring your bell –

But out here in Colorado, where men are men and women know it, we do it up different. We blaze our own trail. We live large. And we use bighorn sheep to protect our public buildings.

That’s right, they’re sitting like bookends at the entrance to a courthouse in Denver. If you live in granite lion country, you probably thought they were mountain goats…or a pair of dodge rams. (Hello?…that’s not even an animal…that’s a truck).

So if you’re coming out west anytime soon, if you’re planning a ski trip or taking the kids to the new Balloon Boy Amusement Park, you better come ready to live it up western-style. While that doesn’t involve concealed weapons or carabiners, it may involve bighorn sheep, alpacas and cougarpumas, be they granite, live or some combination of the two.

We’ve all read heart-breaking stories about people losing loved ones under tragic circumstances. For those of us lucky enough to have been spared such anguish thus far in our lives, these stories really hit us in the gut.

It’s difficult to imagine the pain of losing a child or a spouse. And the general theme of such stories is to live in the now…to appreciate what you have…to not sweat the small stuff…to cherish every moment with your family.

And I think we all walk away with those sentiments. It’s such a cliché, but they really do “put things in perspective.” For awhile.

But for how long? We may walk over and give our kids a hug. We may have a great family dinner that night. We may listen more intently as our children describe their day that evening. But do you wake up the next morning and your first thought is to appreciate the small things?

My answer is certainly “no.” And honestly, how could we? It’s just not realistic to live every moment as if it were your last. It makes for a great country song – and every time I hear it, I’m moved practically to tears. So the emotion isn’t lost on me. In fact, even a Folgers commercial this morning choked me up.

But I’m also a realist, and I believe in another saying: “Life is for the living.” Life is broad, challenging and exhilerating. Sure, it includes the times your heart clogs your throat, watching your daughter sing a song in the kindergarten show, seeing your son hit a triple, and witnessing each of them walk down the aisle.

But life also includes doing the laundry, the dishes and changing the litter box. It includes getting frustrated when the kids don’t do what you say, fail to leave for school on time and lie to you about the cookies. That’s life.

So how do we reconcile these two realities? How can we cherish our son’s first date yet stress when he misses curfew? Here’s my answer – those are not opposing realities. They’re one reality…called life.

We need to stop feeling guilty for living, engaging and enduring all the minutiae that life includes. We can’t look adoringly at our children every moment. When the kids break the window, we can’t simply appreciate that they’re cancer-free.

Life isn’t black and white; it’s gray. Black is over-reacting to life’s troubles. White is being thankful for every minute of life. Gray? Gray is showing up 10 minutes late to the school concert because you can’t find your son’s black pants, being moved to tears by his trombone solo, cleaning the cat vomit from the carpet when you get home, and kissing your kids goodnight in bed. Blend together the good and the bad, and it comes out gray. A beautiful shade of gray.

So go ahead, shed a tear the first time your son doesn’t kiss you good-bye before school. Treat that indiscernible finger-painting as a masterpiece. Pull your hair out when your daughter yet again loses her car keys. Life happens, and there’s nothing wrong with reacting to it. Be glad you’re not dying; you can start living like you’re dying when you’re actually dying.

This Thanksgiving, I’m grateful for my family and our health. I’m thankful for all the wonderful moments we have together. I appreciate that I have room to grow, to become a better parent and a better spouse.

I can’t wait to sit down with my family tomorrow, surrounded by a true feast, though I’m fully aware of the kitchen stress that must first be endured. That’s fine. I’ll take it.

Life is good, warts and all.

So Oprah will leave us. There will be no more Oprah Show.

(But oh, by the way, Oprah will be starting an entire new Oprah channel, with 24-hour-a-day programming, a line of home decor, frozen foods, department stores and a collection of screen savers, but yes….there will be no more Oprah Show.)

Isn’t the media getting played on this one? Next we’ll hear that Tiger Woods is retiring from golf……this weekend……but will play in the tournament on Monday.

Or maybe Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are getting separated……while Brad goes to the dentist……but will reunite this evening for dinner.

And I heard Bill Gates lost all his money……but then found his wallet under the cushion.

So in the spirit of “all news is no news,” I wish to announce the following pronouncement and declare the following declaration –

I will be retiring from DwyerTime on January 1…2023

Prepare yourselves.