After six months of international legal wrangling, DNA swabbing and accusations of fraud, a genetic expert announced in a closed-door hearing in Bahamian court Tuesday that the father of Anna Nicole Smith’s child is Larry Birkhead.
Poppycock!
I have no idea how Mr. Birkhead stole my DNA but clearly he has, the kid is mine and he knows it. However all things considered I think it only reasonable that relinquish my rights in this matter for a small monetary consideration. So for the small amount of monies, let us say the cost of a nice beachfront property in Newport Beach, I am more then man enough to walk away. Certainly this is in the best interest of the little kid, girl right?
Just so this doesn’t happen again I will soon publish a list of all the women I have slept with, and possibly impregnated, in the near future. This list will be a legally binding document and should be good for an indefinite period of time. Out of discretion and respect I will release the names one at time, somewhere around the second trimester and an audit of bank statements and real estate holdings. A gentleman never tells.
I would also like to add that this includes all of the sperm banks I have been generous enough to donate to. Thus the adopting of babies in foreign countries is clearly covered by this document.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Monday, April 09, 2007
The Courtyard is open
When it comes to writing a new book or script, there really “isn’t anything new under the sun”, as King Solomon, said. Most movies are just a different twist on a central theme, redemption, honesty and so on. Many covered in the Greek Tragedies.
Last night we watched “Click”, a movie starring Adam Sadler. Albeit in “It’s a Wonderful Life” and the original “A Christmas Carol” by Dickens, no one got kicked in the crotch and the “F” word wasn’t used, it is pretty well the same premise. I believe the theme here is life and work balance, if you are reading this on your “Crack berry” then you may have already missed the point.
Like so many in my generation, my job defined me. There were so many things to do and very little time set aside for other things. My kids grew up with a dad who they knew not to count on during a major shutdown or project. Work always came 1st. My friends, and those I sadly assumed were friends, were mostly people I met through work. There were sports events that I didn’t attend and excuses that my kids could recite on command. Loyalty to the job seemed paramount and when going through personal issues, I merely buried myself deeper into my projects. Who knew a divorce could help you look better at work?
I need to say here that I met my wife through work and certainly, that was that best bonus I have ever received.
1998 changed everything.
We moved from the ultimate commuter community of Irvine Calif to a sleepy beach town on the Orange County line. We had never lived in such cramped surroundings, in hindsight we didn’t realize how tight the “hood would become. Our neighbors on either side weren’t more then 10 feet away, 5 feet to the concrete walls that defined the 25’ by 100’ lot. Our little shack by the ocean became a true home. We quickly became acquainted with the neighbors on our block. Within a brief time these acquaintances became friends and to this day are the standard that we measure all friendships by. We spent time in each other’s homes. School plays, births, deaths and real life became part of this weave of this fabric that was 3rd street. We sang Old Irish songs on St Patty’s and held impromptu parades on the 4th of July. We adopted our 1st dog, still the 1st dog in her opinion some 9 years later. Molly of course became best friends with Clover our neighbs dog. Our dogs went to the kennels together and they had playtime in each other’s yards, yard being a bit of a stretch. We discussed politics, we discussed the Emmys, and no subject was sacred. We would all stand in our courtyards on Halloween and hand out candy to the out of town visitors, all the while sharing a glass of wine and a sense of family. We played hockey in the alley and listened to good neighbor Tim as he waxed on about the faults of world. Usually while he was fixing something we had broken. A weekend wasn’t complete without time spent in our crowded courtyard and solving the woes of the world over a bottle of Rodney Strong or a glass or 2 of vodka. We have friends of friends who actually had heard so much about the Courtyard; they believed it to be a real bar at the beach.
The strength of 3rd street was based on friendship without anything to be gained or compromised. We all had jobs and yet these had nothing to with what defined us there. We all sort of knew what the other one did, but rarely did it make any difference. There was no attempting to position ourselves for anything other then a good seat in the courtyard.
We have moved on now and have made new friends, all of whom would fit just fine in the courtyard. We still have friends from our connection through work and other places. They live in Spain, Russia and all over the country, and oddly enough many of them spent time with us on 3rd ST. It seems to be the thread that binds.
In January we had occasion to go back to the “Hood”. The kids are grown now, no longer 6 to 12 year olds singing Britney Spears songs in the alley. We have all grown older and perhaps wiser. Time does move on and lives continue in constant flux… and yet the passing of time seemed lost as we laughed and discussed the state of the world over a glass of wine all the while engulfed by the family we will always know as 3rd ST.
Last night we watched “Click”, a movie starring Adam Sadler. Albeit in “It’s a Wonderful Life” and the original “A Christmas Carol” by Dickens, no one got kicked in the crotch and the “F” word wasn’t used, it is pretty well the same premise. I believe the theme here is life and work balance, if you are reading this on your “Crack berry” then you may have already missed the point.
Like so many in my generation, my job defined me. There were so many things to do and very little time set aside for other things. My kids grew up with a dad who they knew not to count on during a major shutdown or project. Work always came 1st. My friends, and those I sadly assumed were friends, were mostly people I met through work. There were sports events that I didn’t attend and excuses that my kids could recite on command. Loyalty to the job seemed paramount and when going through personal issues, I merely buried myself deeper into my projects. Who knew a divorce could help you look better at work?
I need to say here that I met my wife through work and certainly, that was that best bonus I have ever received.
1998 changed everything.
We moved from the ultimate commuter community of Irvine Calif to a sleepy beach town on the Orange County line. We had never lived in such cramped surroundings, in hindsight we didn’t realize how tight the “hood would become. Our neighbors on either side weren’t more then 10 feet away, 5 feet to the concrete walls that defined the 25’ by 100’ lot. Our little shack by the ocean became a true home. We quickly became acquainted with the neighbors on our block. Within a brief time these acquaintances became friends and to this day are the standard that we measure all friendships by. We spent time in each other’s homes. School plays, births, deaths and real life became part of this weave of this fabric that was 3rd street. We sang Old Irish songs on St Patty’s and held impromptu parades on the 4th of July. We adopted our 1st dog, still the 1st dog in her opinion some 9 years later. Molly of course became best friends with Clover our neighbs dog. Our dogs went to the kennels together and they had playtime in each other’s yards, yard being a bit of a stretch. We discussed politics, we discussed the Emmys, and no subject was sacred. We would all stand in our courtyards on Halloween and hand out candy to the out of town visitors, all the while sharing a glass of wine and a sense of family. We played hockey in the alley and listened to good neighbor Tim as he waxed on about the faults of world. Usually while he was fixing something we had broken. A weekend wasn’t complete without time spent in our crowded courtyard and solving the woes of the world over a bottle of Rodney Strong or a glass or 2 of vodka. We have friends of friends who actually had heard so much about the Courtyard; they believed it to be a real bar at the beach.
The strength of 3rd street was based on friendship without anything to be gained or compromised. We all had jobs and yet these had nothing to with what defined us there. We all sort of knew what the other one did, but rarely did it make any difference. There was no attempting to position ourselves for anything other then a good seat in the courtyard.
We have moved on now and have made new friends, all of whom would fit just fine in the courtyard. We still have friends from our connection through work and other places. They live in Spain, Russia and all over the country, and oddly enough many of them spent time with us on 3rd ST. It seems to be the thread that binds.
In January we had occasion to go back to the “Hood”. The kids are grown now, no longer 6 to 12 year olds singing Britney Spears songs in the alley. We have all grown older and perhaps wiser. Time does move on and lives continue in constant flux… and yet the passing of time seemed lost as we laughed and discussed the state of the world over a glass of wine all the while engulfed by the family we will always know as 3rd ST.
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