What Kind of Father Are You?

Sorry I've been away for a while.

Truth is, I'm sitting on gold. GOLD JERRY! In the time since my last post, I've gathered enough material for like . . . 50 great posts that I will bless you with in due time.

But it's probably best that I start with the one that happened today. I call it: "What Kind of Father Are You?"

Today, one of my co-workers was talking about her date for the weekend and the conversation soon moved to sex, or the lack thereof. Ultimately, the issue of gender politics became the main course and the big question was pitched to me: "how will you react when your daughters start having sex?"

Now, if you are a heathen like myself, there are a couple of tests to gauge your committment to non-committment. Death is one. Your daughter's virginity is the other.

I have two daughters, which means, in due time there will be two sets of boys coming through my doors looking to sleep with them. No, I don't love the idea but on the other hand, I don't want my girls to be 40-year old virgins either.

Actually, I don't want them to be 25-year old virgins.

Granted, I'd prefer they wait till they're out of my house, but "doing it" is one of life's greatest pleasures. There's taking a shit, taking a nap, love, eating and boning. My only request is that they hold onto their "precious flowers" till they leave my house, at least that way I won't have to SEE it. But I have no illusions of my daughters remaining chaste until marriage. Nor would I really want them to.

I have my reasons. Three actually.

1. They may never get married. As lovely as they are, the stats for Black women are dismal.

2. I actually WANT them to enjoy sex. I'm firmly convinced that anyone who remains a virgin past 25 is not really interested in sex. Imagine going half a century with a Cinnabon. Crazytown, right?

3. I'm not going to burden them with the idea that pre-marital sex is sinful.

When I explained my reasons, my co-worker (let's call her Michelle), asked:

"Well, what about your religious convictions?"

Now, the only reason I didn't laugh out loud is because I had not prepared to come out of the heathen closet at work. From what I can tell, Michelle was raised in a very religious home and I wasn't quite ready to go down that path with her.

So I waffled as best as I could:

"Those aren't really a problem for me." Better to appear as a lapsed Christian than not one at all, right?

"What do you mean?" She parried.

Ah shit.

And then . . . I came out. Right there at work. In front of TWO of my co-workers.

"I wasn't raised with any religion so I never really get into the whole sin thing." It was out and no bells rang. No sirens. Just quiet acceptance and perhaps silent judging. But no one stopped me.

Michelle paused and looked up from her desk and said, "You're life must be so peaceful."

"Huh?"

"You don't know what it's like to think that what you're doing is wrong and always being like 'please forgive me God.'"

I didn't say anything but I was thinking -- "No, I don't -- Thank God."

Easter-Geddon IV: This Time It's Personal!

It was all going to plan.

The plan was afoot. The trap was set. The bait was taken.

And then . . . BAM! Fucking Orthodox Easter.

Turns out, tonight is Orthodox Easter. A holiday I was hardly aware of has suddenly reared its ugly head right into my Saturday night.

Let's rewind a few hours shall we.

Earlier today, my wife and I hatched a devious plot to spend a night without kids by way of inviting the neighbors' kids for a sleepover. "Huh?" You say. "How will inviting MORE children over increase the chance of being alone?"

Come walk through our labrythine logic.

Our neighbors have four kids -- one of which is my eldest daughter's OMG BFF. So we invite her over for a sleepover KNOWING that the children's father thinks she's too young to have sleepovers. Plus, we anticipated that the rest of the children will be jealous and want to come over -- something that we know just won't happen. And that's where the genius of the plan kicks in.

Alright, so we threw out the first pitch and invited the eldest daughter over. Her mother said "yes," a little too quickly. I would be lying if I said we weren't a little scared.

Forty minutes later, the mother called stating that it's her daughter's birthday tomorrow (did I mention that they're Jehovah Witnesses -- at least the mother is -- so her child's birthday wasn't going to be a big deal) and she wanted to invite our two daughters over instead.

YES!!!!

Not ten minutes later, I'm rushing around the house -- literally throwing my childrens' pajamas on, gathering toothbrushes and shoes. It's what's known as "Married Man Nesting." It's eliminating all distractions and deterrents from your wife's surroundings so that she can concentrate on . . . making brownies (look my parents read this blog so give me a break).

Anyway, the children are dressed and ready to go. So I called the mom -- "The girls are ready to come over." Yes I love my children but to say I wasn't hopping around like a puppy would be a lie.

"Well, actually we're going to a midnight Easter service. I didn't know earlier. I'm sorry."

CUT TO ME IN CAPTAIN KIRK'S CHAIR SCREAMING INTO THE CAMERA ABOVE:

"JESUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSS!"

Fucking Orthodox Easter has ruined my Saturday night. On a night when I had planned some decidedly un-Christianlike behavior, Jesus has resurrected and achieved a masterful cock-block. Well done Son of God.

For you curious few, Orthodox Easter is the neighbor's father's idea -- it's not a JW thing. He's fighting an uphill battle against his wife's new found faith with Jehovah's Witnesses and is doing his best to keep his kids out of Kingdom Hall. I don't blame him, but couldn't he have found a different day to fight this war?

Don't miss the Easter-Geddon series here:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 2.5
Part 3

COUNTDOWN TO EASTER-GEDDON III: Jesus Who?

It is 10:39am on Easter Sunday.

I am in my pajamas.

Prophecy fulfilled bitches!!!! That's right, my two-year church famine remains intact as I predicted!

If you've been following along, you'll know that my in-laws have been quietly (and not-so quietly) angling to get me and my family to church today. They've sent my daughters Easter Dresses, emails about putting our children on "the right path," and constant quieries about our activities for the holiday.

Meanwhile, I have been quietly hoping that we would NOT be in church. Not just because I'm a a heathen, but because church on Easter seems just a bit EXTRA, know what I mean? It doesn't so much bother me that everyone is there to show off their new duds and freshly-scrubbed devotion, it's the minister I'm worried about. They seem contractually obligated to go that extra mile on Easter, marathon preaching.

At least, so I'm told.

I don't know that I've ever been in a church on Easter. So, this is just a guess. But let me share with you two comments I heard this morning that further illustrate WHY I've never been.

Comment #1:"You know, Easter really sucks."

This is my mother as she dutifully picks up plastic green "grass" and consolidates the children's chocolate treats into plastic ziplock bags.

"It's messy and the only people who get anything out of it are the fucking candy companies."

Starting to get the picture yet?

Comment number 2: "Oh yeah," she exclaims, "I forgot it was Easter today."

That's my eldest daughter waking up and responding to the news that if the Easter Bunny left anything for her and her sister.

TA-DAH!!!

To be truly honest, we haven't fully escaped Easter's orbit as we are currently getting dressed to meet my mother-in-law for brunch at Houlihans -- which, I guess for her, is the next best thing to getting us in church. I'm sure we'll hear wonderful things about the service and be offered an invitation to attend something very soon.

The funny thing is, as much as I am opposed to church, my wife is the one who truly dug her heels in. She KNEW we would be under pressure to go to some sort of church service so she made sure NONE of us had anything "proper" to wear. All four of us are wearing jeans, sealing our heathenistic fate not to step foot in a church.

So there, take that Christian holiday. You've just been defeated by denim.

COUNTDOWN TO EASTER-GEDDON II.5: Doing It JW Style

So, I'm at home today on "sick leave" -- cough, cough. For real, my wife really was at the hospital (nothing serious), so I had to pitch hit for her home day care (which includes my daughters, a five year old boy and a four-month old infant). In other words, fun, fun, fun!

Anyway, around 10:30 there's a knock at my door. Lo and behold it's the Jehovah's Witnesses!

Flanked by three old women, they quietly ask me if my wife is home. I tell them "no" and they smile and hand me a little booklet. No muss, no fuss.

Not an hour later, the doorbell rings again.

MORE JW's.

But this time . . . a familiar face.

Oh shit, it's the JW who had been "studying" with my wife for three years until she tried the hard sell and got the boot (you can read about that confrontation right here). It was like seeing some chick you dissed over the phone suddenly show up at your door with flowers.

I'll give the woman her props, she is persistant. When you take into account that my wife pretty much told her to buzz off AND that she read my blog account of visiting her church, excuse me, Hall -- you figure this woman REALLY is convinced that she knows Jesus. Bless her heart.

"Hi David," -- she never remembers my name.

"Hi, how are you?" -- I don't care to remind her.

"Is your wife home?"

"No, she's not."

"Oh well, can you give this to her?" She said handing me the exact booklet the other crew gave me.

"No problem." I'm not lying, I really will give it to her -- so we can laugh together.

"Well, just so you know, we're having a celebration tonight just around the corner so if you want to come by."

So what celebration warrants TWO visits from the JW's within an hour? What's all the hub bub?

Why, the death of Jesus.

Um, Yay?

The booklet read: "Each year, Jehovah's Witnesses mark the anniversary of Jesus' death with a simple ceremony. . . This year, the anniversary falls on Thursday, April 9."

Awww, how inconvenient. Thursday night is the night for "The Office" and "30 Rock" so . . . maybe Jesus should have picked another day to kick the bucket (yes, I have a DVR but I like those shows LIVE). Not to mention, I've seen the JW version of a "rousing day at church" so I can only imagine that a JW's version of a "simple ceremony" would be a lot like playing solitaire in front of a mirror -- only slightly more boring.

Being an optimist, I understand hoping against hope. So, I totally get that look in her eye when she offered the invitation. Sadly, I think she understood the look in my eye that said something like "ain't no way in hell we're showing up."

Not to be mean, but if I'm not going to regular church for Easter (God willing), why would I show up for a second-hand religion's simple ceremony? Yes, the blogging fodder would be AMAZING, but I'm simply not up to it tonight -- need I remind you what's coming on?

With only three days to go, my plans for a sacrilious Easter are looking pretty, pretty, good.

What could possibly go wrong?

COUNTDOWN TO EASTER-GEDDON II

Did I tell you that I almost joined a church?

Yeah, it was last Sunday.

Actually, it started Saturday when I saw a really attractive flyer in my door. It was someone changing a tire except the tire was colored like the planet earth. Corny? Maybe, but it got to me (That's part of the image above with the best part inexplicably cut off -- damn technology).

So I read on.

"Why does Easter matter? Because through the life of Jesus Christ, God's love has been unleashed in the world."

Perhaps I should have seen that coming since the url emblazoned on the flyer was celebrateeaster.net but I soldiered on mainly because I saw stuff like this:

"his followers here in your neighborhood are sheltering the homeless, caring for the elderly, providing volunteers in our public schools - and reaching out around the world to combat global poverty and HIV/AIDS, and doing many other things that really matter."

Despite my lack of religion, I do like to help people, even if it means hanging out with church folks or even, gulp, going into a church to do so.

So, last Sunday, I called the number on the flyer for the church nearest me.

Here's a somewhat fabricated transcript:

"Hello, I got a flyer in the mail and I'm interested in helping out in our community."

"Great, will you be coming to church on Sunday?"

"Uh, no but . . . ."

"Good-bye."

Actually, the call was longer than that and the guy ended up giving me some very useful, non-church related contacts, but the it did end that way.

Indeed, they weren't looking for people to help out necessarily as much as they were looking for butts to fill their seats during Easter, which is like the Superbowl of Christian holidays. No, that would Christmas. Easter is like the Final Four of Christian Holidays, you know, only for the die-hard (pun intended) fans who are REALLY into the game. Whereas pretty much ANYBODY who gets off the boat or crosses the border "gets" Christmas. It's flashy, fun and gives everyone an excuse to spend more time in Best Buy and Target.

So, it looks like I fell for the the old-bait-and-switch. It's the way Time Share companies get you to sit through 90-mins of pressure sales and slideshows on the promise of a free Disney vacation. Actually, that's a lot like church -- mandatory torture with the promise of prefabricated bliss (and, usually, another 90-minute lecture on why you should opt-in).

It's kind of like how I started this blog with saying I almost joined a church when in actuality, that's no where near the truth. But it got you to waste 90-some seconds on reading what some (mostly I) would call bliss.

COUNTDOWN TO EASTER-GEDDON!

Oh, it's on baby!

With Easter only a week away, the subtle battle to get my children into church has just gone digital. My in-laws are getting desperate. Remember the day before election night, the Republicans dragged Rev. Wright out again in those scary commercials? Yeah, it's getting that desperate.

QUICK RECAP: A few weeks ago, my wife's aunt sent our daughters some very pretty, very useless Easter dresses. Earlier this week, my mother-in-law, the first female deacon of her church, began asking about our Easter day plans of which we have none. If I'm not mistaken we'll be at Hershey Park the day BEFORE Easter but somehow I don't think those dresses will fly there.

Just yesterday, however, my mother-in-law fired off the following email to my wife and brother-in-law:

DAILY DEVOTION
Direct Your Children in the Right Path
Proverbs 22:6 (NLT)

I was really blessed when I heard my 3-year-old grandson tell the story of Jonah and the whale from a toddler’s perspective. I was blessed by the fact that my son and daughter were teaching him the Word of God at an early age. . .nothing is as important as bringing up your child in the fear and admonition of the Lord. In Proverbs 22:6 we find these words that encourage us to impart to our children the ways of the Lord: "Direct your children onto the right path, and when they are older, they will not leave it." The writer is clear that the training must start at an early age, so that when they become mature they will not depart from the ways of the Lord. He also recognizes the importance of the parents themselves walking in the ways of the Lord.

In other words: PLEASE, please, PLEASE take my grandchildren to church this Easter.

Trouble is, my wife is stubborn and will keep our children out of church JUST because she's being pushed to do it. Me, I honestly don't think I've ever been in church on Easter -- historically I spend that day gorging on chocolate rabbits and picking that plastic grass out of my sheets -- so I don't know what I'm missing. Besides, celebrating the death and supposed resurrection of a thousand-year-old Jewish guy by listening to another guy hoot and holler for three hours sounds EXACTLY like the last thing I'd like to do with my Sunday.

But back to the email.

Here's what I find ironic about it. Both my wife and her brother were raised in church. They sang the songs, went to Sunday school, performed in plays -- the whole kit and caboodle. In other words, they were on the "right path" so says the email, and yet . . . neither of them attend church now unless its for a funeral, wedding or a guilty trip while visting their mom. I'm not sure either would pass the Christian litmus test.

On top of that, both married people outside their "faith" and none of our kids can tell you the difference between Noah and Nebakanezer. You know my story, but you don't about my brother-in-law's wife. Raised as a Jehovah's Witness, she has since defected and become a super non-JW Christian. Well, not really, but she celebrates Christmas like nobody's business which is a cardinal sin for JWs. That and being taken seriously. In short, she's as much a Jehovah's Witness as I am a giraffe.

Ok, so here's the point. The email says if you raise your children to be Christians then they will remain that way. But as I see it, if you don't teach them to value it or really understand it and just regurgitate the myths and fear (which are fun) then odds are they WON'T stay "on the path."

So what if you're NOT raised with a religion? Does that mean you'll . . . stray off the . . . oh shit . . . I never considered that. I may have just made my blog obsolete.

All Dressed Up . . .

These are my daughter's Easter dresses.

They were given to us by my aunt-in-law Cheryl (is that right?) for the great African-American tradition of getting gussied up for Easter service.

But wait, you ask, does that mean I'm going to church this year?

Fret not, Thirdsies, I will not be at church for Easter -- I'm actually looking to make 2009 a completely church-free year -- so keep your fingers crossed. You know it, I know it and so does Aunt Cheryl. But this is the latest passive-aggressive missive in the largely silent, but deadly war between myself and my wife's devout relatives.

Want another example?

Every year, we get Christmas cards from her Aunt Sharon who never forgets to add, in her own hand-writing, "Never forget, Christmas is about the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ -- so get to Church before your soul is reduced to a bubbling strip of hell-bacon."

She doesn't actually write that last part, but it is implied.

About two years ago, my wife's theological entertaining of Jehovah's Witnesses, threw her whole family into a tizzy. They all volunteered two hands and both shoulders in the tug-of-war to save her soul -- all doing their part to wrestle her back to Baptism and back to church.

During a conversation with her Aunt Sharon, my wife mentioned that she was still keeping her options open in terms of religion -- you know just dating and not committing to one supreme diety just yet. And, being the understanding and loving aunt that she is, Sharon said kindly: "You don't want to go to hell do you? What about your kids, don't you want them to go to heaven?"

Sweet, no?

And, really, at the middle of this war is our lovely daughters, who, for all my in-laws know, are graven-image-worshipping heathens in desperate need of saving. Hence, these Easter dresses which were either washed in Holy Water or equipped with a tractor beam that pulls the wearer to the nearest Easter Service. If not, the next time these dresses find themselves in church will be when they're picked up as donations.

So far as Easter is concerned, I have no idea what we're doing. We'll be at my parents so, you know, no chance of church there. But the month is still early so anything could change.
Trust me, if I end up at church, you'll be the first to read about it.