Are You Having Any Fun?

By Zeke Quezada

Ask yourself: Are you having any fun?

What are you getting out of living?

I see this song at the top of my lungs and my son’s do the same. My oldest in a bashful way and my youngest as if he was on stage. Tony Bennett would be proud that his message was clearly getting across to my boys.

My life is simple; I dictate what I do on the premise that fun is necessary for living. If my children are smiling I must be doing something right.

That leads me to my everyday endeavors.

I struggle with the simple fact that I am surrounded by women every day. I rarely have the conversation about sports, about co-workers or about the things men talk about on a daily basis. I am a stay at home father. The truth is I work from home, but to most people they view me as the guy who walks his kids to school and plays in the front yard while the rest of the fathers in the neighborhood set off to work.

These days most people need to work, the concept of a housewife is so antiquated I feel dirty even saying the words. Everyone I know is a working mom or a working dad. I just happen to be a small fish in a sea full of female swimmers.

While most people would suggest that I really don’t have much in the way of sacrifice going on, the truth is when you commit to doing the job of the parent at home it is an all or nothing proposal. I find myself sitting in meetings that are meant to help the school where my oldest son attends and my youngest will one day enroll. I file homework for teachers and help with art projects. I have painted, read, taken pictures; I even was given a tooth by a kid once. That’s right, a 1st grader walked up to me and handed me his tooth.

So you might say, “You are lucky!”

I am.

More importantly, my children are happy. By choosing to work at home I have decided that my children will be my number one priority. I know that as I clean up after cats that my children love that I have very little space in my heart for. I see it as I ice skate with my child for hours as my lower back creaks with the pains of age. I feel it as my children hold my hand as we cross every street on the way to school.

I find it hard to believe that our priorities often don’t include the simple needs of our children. I figure I have a few years to do the things I will be glad I do not regret in twenty years. I have the opportunity to show my children the simple pleasure in life, the guiding principle of happiness is rooted in fun.

Recently, I read an article about Rupert Murdoch, a brilliant Businessman, he lamented that he regretted not taking a few more trips with his children. So often I have found myself digging deep holes in the sand as my children slid into the abyss created by their “papa”. I look across beaches and so many people forget that their kids are playing on a beach and that for that instant in time they too can enjoy the moment along with their kids.

Too many people forget how special it is for a child to hug you in the snow, to share a greasy slice of pizza with you or to hug you and say , “I love You”

My resounding principle of life is to never forget the miracle of having a child, of being able to help that special person through their life. To laugh at the silly things and to share the special moments that can only be shared between a parent and a child.

Too many people say that the best day of their life was when their children were born. I say that everyday after that only gets better. I have hope because I know that tomorrow will be way better than today. I know that if we laughed about the rain today, tomorrow we can laugh about the sunshine, or the snow or the wind.

My life is not just about my children, it’s about my family and it’s about redefining sacrifice. It’s about understanding that your family is so much of a nucleus of your life that the important things really are simple.

Simply put, Are you having any fun?

If you’re not, the chances that your children are not are pretty good.

I’m not sure that is why we are on this planet.

Why do we need to have lunch?

By Zeke Quezada

Why do we get so nuts about diets and eating properly. I have been struggling tiwith the simple task of having lunch and the costs associated with the middle meal of the day. So I get hungry and I walk over to the Trader Joe’s in my neighborhood and quickly scan the aisles.

“I better grab some coffee”, I remind myself as I feel the pulse of my blood flow in my right temple. I have an addiction, contrary to popular belief; it’s not alcohol, its coffee. Caffeine is a legal drug that is packaged so well, I find it hard not to overpay for a simple cup of hot water that is run though crushed beans.

It’s free, that’s why in the middle of the day I walk over in the searing heat just to enjoy a small cup in the comforts of the air conditioned produce aisle. I notice that the mid day crowd in this earthy place consists of overly polite but well intentioned stay at home moms. These are a bit different in that it seems as if they all spend the morning at yoga and have been eating healthy for longer than my usual day and a half.

If my wife was to see the mid-day clientele she might make me drive to a bad neighborhood for a snack.

As I top off my cup of black gold I notice a few of the women noticing me. It’s like I’m a zoo animal, sure I failed to properly comb my hair and the requisite wrinkled shirt is looking no better today than it did yesterday, but hygiene habits aside, it’s clear that I am the only male in the place.

Once again, if my wife was to see the mid day clientele she might make me drive to a bad neighborhood for a snack.

I give a polite and unthreatening smile; they both realize they have been staring. It’s comical, not because they were watching me but when left with very little else but the beige world of soccer moms somehow a guy in flip flops, drinking coffee while struggling to define the location of an itch seems worth looking at.

Don’t get me wrong, I clean up well. I just don’t see the need to clean up all that often. Believe me, if you could sit in crusty shorts and a shirt you have worn for two days you would. If corporate America realized the simple formula for productivity resided in the comfort of their employees, they would get rid of ergonomics and take casual Fridays to another level. But that discussion is for another day.

So I walk past the generous selection of wines and I am tempted to peruse the aisle. Imagine, picking out a value bottle of red while drinking coffee. It could only get better if I was being pushed along on a cart while enjoying some type of sordid sex act that is usually reserved for pay per view at a seedy motel. Well, maybe no sex but at least a Pastrami sandwich. Yeah, that would be bliss.

So I opt to bypass the wine and I stumble across the frozen food section to discuss lunch with myself.

“Lets see, calamari rings? Too labor intensive. Fish sticks? Honestly, can you get any fatter? Teriyaki bowl? Possibility” I mumble to myself as I slowly inspect the goods in the aisle reserved for the women who decided that no bra would be a good choice for the grocery store. Frankly, it’s like they are teasing me with their nipples.

I repeat, if my wife was to see the mid day clientele she might make me drive to a bad neighborhood for a snack.

The results of my endeavor? I had coffee, I bought peanuts, sunflower seeds, Taquitos and guacamole. I’m watching movie trailers and my headache is slowly fading.

My conclusions? Morgan Freeman narrating anything, I’ll watch, twice. The grams of fat always seem to be exaggerated; the grams of saturated fat are generously inflated. Six taquitos in a microwave will eventually taste like damp paper and too much guacamole will drive you to the toilet.

One more thing, the itch I was trying to locate, seems to be bothering me more but I think I can make it to the store for some of that cream that helps with rashes.

Perhaps I should try fasting?