|Slum lord Snidely Uncool, at your service.|
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
Thursday, December 1, 2016
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
In my younger days, I never needed to keep an appointment calendar because I had a sharp memory and no social life. Then my wife and I had children, followed by countless six packs of stress-relief to survive them.
These days I find myself constantly having to scribble little “note to self” reminders to remember things I should (and, more often, shouldn’t) do in the future. Here’s some of the collection that I have amassed over past few months on Post-It Notes, pet store receipts and my laptop.
Speaking of which — Note to self: Find your laptop cord before dog uses it as dental floss.
Thursday, May 21, 2015
Let me help you. Please.
I had your job before, making cold calls and email pitches. It sucks. Allow me to make your life easier.
Unless you are offering to pay me a decent wage (see #SwifferDads campaign) to write about your product or brand, or you are offering to give me a pricey and/or sexy product (think Bluetooth headphones, flat-screen TVs, sports cars, lots and lots of tasty alcohol, etc.), just save yourself the time and effort.
I have no interest in running your high-res photos of celebrity dads giving their kids BPA-free high colonics.
Monday, May 11, 2015
This past weekend was the Perfect Storm of Uncool events: my birthday (not one of note, though my increasingly creaky back says otherwise), Mother’s Day and Li’l Diva’s annual dance recital. I write about the latter in this piece, which first appeared a year ago in Stamford Magazine.
It’s the heart of spring, a special time with weather warming, flora blooming and vacations approaching that ignited me so as a child but as an adult reduces me to ash.
Field trips to Cove Island, to Dorothy Heroy Park and – gasp – to “The City.” School concerts. School plays. Daily rehearsals for said concerts and plays. Little League practices. Little League games. Going back to the Little League field to retrieve a jacket left in the dugout. Funny how perspective changes when you go from kid to your kids’ chauffeur.
Monday, April 27, 2015
When My Love and I first shacked up, we'd tried to spend every Saturday morning cleaning the condo. Vacuuming. Scrubbing. Disinfecting. That was just the corner of the closet where we tossed my used underwear.
My Uncool Past
- ► 2014 (16)
- ► 2013 (30)
- ► 2012 (61)
- ► 2011 (57)
- ► 2010 (100)
- ► 2009 (87)