Notable Number 47s in our House

Jesse Orosco, closer for 1986 World Series champion New York Mets.  

 Black 47, Celtic rock band.

And, don’t know how, but … me.

I only have one bone to pick – one of omission by the Babble Top 50 Dad Blog list folks.

When I was interviewed for this many months ago, the writer asked me, “Does your blog have any special recurring features?”

“Typos,” I replied.

(One other omission -- Homemaker Man’s Musings from the Big Pink not making the list. Friend, you wuz robbed!)

Thanks all of you for sticking with me and my typos, especially:

Those who take the time to comment or email, just once or on every post. I appreciate it, sincerely. Unless you are a spammer or incompetent PR intern. You know who you are.

The handful of local bloggers (and sadly, ex-bloggers) I’ve known from almost the get-go who I still consider my friends even when they abandon me in bars with drunken bisexuals.

The many bloggers I’ve meet and befriended, especially all the DadCentric guys – past and present, in these nearly four years. You all seem oddly normal and pleasant in real life. Or you fake it really well. Meh – I’ll take it either way.

The Things, who have provided so much material. And heartburn. Dad loves you for both.

Murphy, who forces me to get up from my computer to scratch his belly or open the back door for him. Mostly open the door. Every 6 minutes. You’re the uncool’s best friend, even if you become the only hairless Labrador retriever in the world.

And, most importantly, My Love for supporting my “work” and even when you can’t understand why I do it. And for supporting me financially. First rule of blogging: Don’t expect it to pay the bills. Second rule: Marry up.

Fiddle deee diddle deee deidely dee, indeed.