A Few Thoughts

• Truth is, you're not gonna find better prices for pantry-staples than at Trader Joe's. Bread, eggs, dairy, coffee, cereal, sun-dried tomatoes, the entire pasta/sauce family, frozen foods, etc... (but not cheese) are, across the board, a better price and value than most any other store you will shop at.
• The internet is as good for researching and diagnosing a problem as it is at creating paranoia and confusion over a proper diagnosis of said problem.
• There's no excuse for a grown-man with a desk job to smell like a batting helmet.
• Every fitness product is aimed at getting you to feel that your quality of life would be better if you were more comfortable taking your shirt off around strangers. In fact, that mindset would reflect a mental deformity no amount of AggroTrim could burn off.
• Sometimes you're slowed down because the guy in front of you isn't driving well. Sometimes you're slowed down because you aren't driving well. Sometimes the guy in front of the four guys in front of you is driving poorly, slowing everyone down. Odds are you can relax and not tailgate me. If you're reading this, you probably don't tailgate others. This may have been pointless.
• Time is one of the few resources we have, that we can actually decide how efficiently it is used. The best way to use it, often, is to remind somebody that they aren't allowed to waste yours, then put your headphones back on and finish your blog.
• Though the Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions (who bid that job?), I truly never want to lead anybody down it myself. I've had good intentions when talking with friends or loved ones about an issue they seem to be tied-to, and it doesn't always go well. But sometimes you have to wake the person up to tell them their house is on fire.
• I hope, in the end, I don't have the lingering regret that I didn't do something which could have greatly helped somebody else, just because I thought they may take it the wrong way. (See previous statement)
• I really kind of feel like I wasted most of my 20's, but I did bring some key lessons of Life out of it. And I probably owe some apologies to a few people.
• I think I'm an Ayurvedic type-B, but a Blood Type-A, which are similar dietary types.

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MC, HOST, CORPORATE, COMEDY, SEATTLE, GEOFF, LOTT

On The Language of Parenting

An outbound trip's preparation, as the parent of an infant, is very close to a conversation between two people in the throes of hallucinogenic bliss.

Examples? I have a...

"We can't leave yet, I can't find Blue Bear."

"It should be in the bucket, where's the baby?"

"In the bucket, Blue Bear is nowhere. I have Flat

Dog and Power Rattle."

"What about SqueakyMoose?"

"He's on the hook, he never leaves."

"Well get RedStar Munch and we'll just skip Blue

Bear."

"Blue Bear always goes."

"He won't know, he'll be asleep in the bucket before we get to the donut."

"If he freaks you gotta get him RedStar or FlatDog, he can't go Avatar like last time."

"Duh. Go warm up the Swagger, and take the bucket. We gotta get to MeMe's."

Such is my blessed, shiny life.

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Daddy Issues #1 - The Conceptin'

While recently talking with an acquaintance (read: friendly, but not airport pick-up "friends") I mentioned that becoming a father at 35 afforded me a mindset of easily-focused priorities. Being in a large number of situations that demanded a type of "After School Special" reasoning, when not flipping a coin to see if I should trust my gut (always do) helped me bank experience I may have otherwise missed out on. When Graham comes to me one day to ask what he should do about a girl who seems to be really aloof, I can firmly tell him that she's carrying some issues with her dad and needs attention and to be chased, so the farther away from her he gets, the better. THEN... she'll come a-runnin'.

A lot of people who can barely manage their own lives, health, and finances are putting people on the earth every minute. A lot of folks who cannot - but want to - have children find themselves distraught over the inability to do so.

So if I'm getting pee'ed on, pooped at, thrown-upon, stared at, grumped about, or not getting validation of some sort from my 3 month-old son, I don't mind. I've worked with grown-ups who were less refined. It's still a blessing to have a healthy, happy, growing infant to care for. I'm not bringing a lot to the table just yet for him to really bond to. But we're liking our Dinosaur Flashcards, reading about Freight Trains, and listening to Classical Music while breaking down pass coverages and blitz packages to find hot routes in the empty zones. Kid can audible.

I know enough to know I don't know all I want to. But I'm not no dummy.

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What's New Daddy-G?

I took a big step this past week by committing to being present when my son was born. Not nearly enough men do this, for any number of well-thought-out, idiocy-inspired reasons. I've seen my son every day since the moment he was born. His head looks much better today.

With due respect to HAX-TV, trips to see Dave Matthews at the Gorge, and stand-up comedy, being part of my son Graham's life is likely the most-meaningful involvement of my existence. I've already had a number of conversations with myself about discipline, drinking, Religion vs. religion, and fighting at soccer games for community U-8 teams. I have a lot of growing up to do, still.

I sometimes envy my friends who had children much younger in their life. As they get older and make more money, they are able to do and give more to the kids. But also, I met the Right Woman later than some do, and our son Graham Gerald Lott came right on time. If I were 27 with a kid, I'd still be itching to go out and drink and act like a Reality TV Housemate. At 35 I just stay home for all of that. Life has its own skej for ya. Stop fighting it and go with your flow.

I have a much better appreciation for all my parents have done for me in my life. Especially after seeing my son being born. He came into the world at 7# 8oz, and I was 9#7oz, so my mom deserves a gift card instead of brunch next year. As a new parent, I have only instinct and some videos and a few chapters of parenting knowledge to go from. Turns out, everybody knows nothing about being a parent. I guess it's all going to be about Love, even if it's tough, even when it's hour 4 of a non-sleeping jag at 3:47a.m. and somebody's on your lap farting like a mariachi tuba, and will just... not... POOOOOOOOP there it was on my leg.

Madly in love with this kid, he's more attuned to his Mom, who is all things a Woman could be. Her strength through 30+ hours of contractions, naturally delivering our son, and recovering to feed him "naturally" has been awe-inspiring. It's the strongest I have ever seen somebody Be, close to my mom's dealing with my dad's illness. I have an amazing wife, and my son's a lucky little boy, blessed with wonderful angels.

In closing, I'm probably gonna blabber on about being a dad here, on and off. In the meantime, I'll also be throwing in some stuff I'm working on for my act about how F'ed up the world has gotten (Thank You, Passive Aggressive Behavior!), and how to handle Bad Apples.

Love you all. As appropriately as I can.

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Fame, Us, People

Today we were in Santa Monica heading to a birthing class to make sure we know how to breathe and where the baby comes out. You'd be really, really freaked out if you knew. It's... wow... ANYway, we get there and gotta... GET TO THE POINT.

I was at the lobby desk and glance to the left as a man in a red shirt, long sleeves, skull-covered, saunters around the corner, hair curly and wild. I think "Tim Burton's got hair like... THAT'S TIM BURTON."

Near him in bright pastels is a bouncy gal with hair in an up-do, and I start totally ignoring the ass-backwards lobby desk "guard" trying to figure out the parking maps. Because I KNOW that this lady has to be... HELENA BONHAM CARTER.

At which point they glance over at me (yes, I was waving as though I was signaling "MINE" for an incoming fly-ball), and I say "Hey, I love you guys! I'm a huge fan of your work."

They said?
"Oh hey, thanks! Cool!"
And they walked outside LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE LIKE ME AND some of you.

I head outside with my parking pass and far too much judgment on what it must NOT take to get a job as a lobby desk guard for UCLA Health Services. As I exit the building I see
TIM BURTON and his wife HELENA BONHAM CARTER! Just a few feet from our car, wherein My Wife! is reading something about our class. I turn to TIM BURTON and HELENA BONHAM CARTER and say "Sorry, I'm geeking out. I love your stuff!"



I peek through the window and tell my wife "Hey, that's (pointing behind me) TIM BURTON and HELENA BONHAM CARTER!"
She waves at them and says "Hiii!"

Whaddyoo think those two did?

THEY WAVED RIGHT BACK AND SAID "Hii!"

Then they walked down the street and off to do what they do when they aren't about to get hugged and cried-on by a guy who has deep emotional attachments to "Beetlejuice," "The Nightmare Before Christmas," and "Ed Wood."

In our birthing class we watched a video where some random lady in Iowa gave birth. They showed her pushing it out of her (business). Hey, how about a heads-up before the Head's out? Jeez. Bloody show, indeed.

Then we went to Calabasas to shop at Babies R Us because they were the only one in the area that had a store where teenagers weren't registering for their showers. And the sling we needed, from what I was told.

What a great day. I love my wife. I love my life. I love that we're Living. Blessed.

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TIM BURTON and HELENA BONHAM CARTER!

"BABY MAMA" is A Crowning Achievement

Last night I got home to find my wife having ordered a movie OnDemand, as it was a relatively slow evening in the later hours. I had gone out to a show to see a buddy of mine here, and met with other Seattle-ite comics, whom I think are more than ready to make funny here in LA. That's for another time.

So, Wife ordered "Baby Mama," starring the foolproof duo of Tina Fey and Amy Poehler (Pee-oh-el-ee-r, I think. No, "Peeler," okay). Synopsis of the movie is that Kate Holbrook (Tina's character) is ready to have a baby, but can't, because she's got a problem with having a baby. I don't want to give too much away here. (She may have been born a dude, they don't really explore that much in the film, but it would have made Tina Fey even hotter). So she enlists Angie Ostrowski (Amy Poehler's character) to carry the baby inside her (Angie's) uterine walls, played by Utris Jackson (former all-conference forward at North Texas A&M, 1993). In some circles this is called "Surrogate Mothering" or "The Rosie O'Donnell Method."

I, frankly, barf OnDemand when I smell a romantic comedy. Or anything "precious" in a movie, where it's obvious they're pulling at your heartstrings instead of being able to close a scene properly. This is not a romantic comedy, if that's what you're looking for. There's a romantic element to it, where Greg Kinnear is totally puttin' it to Kate in the movie (Kinnear is great in everything, btw). But really, the movie steers more towards COMEDY. And I know comedy.

So what did I think?

This movie is awesome. I laughed really heartily, out-loud, gut-busting at a LOT of stuff. Angie Ostrowski is a manic, immature, goofball with no business carrying a flu virus let alone a fetus. Kate Holbrook is a manic, anal retentive, do-gooder with a heart of organic tofu that demands a lot more out of Angie as the host-ut'ris. It's like "The Odd Couple," with spotting! The movie tells the story of these women with hopes and dreams, their polar-opposite personalities and common goals dancing around each other like a Polka in a Mosh Pit. HILARIOUS movie. Seriously. Amy Poehler's great, Steve Martin is again a subtle master, and you just get way more than you deposited. Like getting triplets when all you expected was dinner!

Truly, "Baby Mama" is now OnDemand. On DVD soon, if not already. Totally worth it.
I'm not lying or being snarky, I swear. SEE THIS MOVIE.

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Welcome Riley Ann Hennessey!

SHE IS HERE!

Riley Ann Hennessey, the daughter of Katie (Lott) Hennessey and Brian Studforth Hennessey arrived December 19th at 10:53pm.

At 19-inches and 7lbs 10oz, blue-eyed, Riley is healthy, squeaky, pink, and happy. From what I can tell, of course I don't really speak "newborn." Last night I was holding her and rubbing her tum-tum, as she was swaddled by her daddy just a few minutes before. Brian is a really good dad, I had no doubt he'd be such.

But last night while she lay in my arms, she started fussin' a bit, ssqueeeealin', a little squawk, then breeeee!, she passed the bubble and immediately quieted down. Yep, we related!

Gramma Lott (Pam) is just eatin' her up. Can't get enough of her. She had plenty of time to gear up with Katie's pups over the past year, so she was beyond ready for Riley. It's very exciting, and this baby's gettin' a lot of love and attention. Must be nice.

There is a lot more to share here, but I'll go to it another time.

She's a beautiful little creation, and I took a big step toward figuring out why people get together and adopt one of their own. So precious!

So here she is, little Grandchild Hennessey/Lott #1... RILEY ANN!



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