Blog Daddy

I've had a number of people tell me recently that I need to dive headlong into the world of "Dad Bloggers," elbowing my way in and throwing-down what I know with how I write. I'm debating it, somewhat 'FOR' the notion of doing so. While I hesitate to dive in, having only been a dad for a year and a month now, I am also wholeheartedly devoted to Dad Life. Prior to that I started my foray into Husband Life. As I've learned that "My Life Is Best Not Lived For ME" I still believe that solitude has many benefits to the human condition/migraine. I love my wife and my son more than I can ever explain without decimating a threatening horde of illegal immigrants or whatever is evil right now. Truth is, however, I am still learning what it is to be a Dad to a son, to a walkaboutz-talkaboutz Toddler guy, and how to be a Husband to a Wife and Mother. Every day, something new. I mess up, frequently, verbally, and sometimes, gastrointestinally.

I am far from perfect, and perhaps perfect from far. But when it comes down to it, I read a few other Dad Blogs and get that deep-rooted feeling that a few of these guys are pandering to the Oprah-watchers who went to college to end up with their "Mrs." degrees. I honestly feel like many of them are just "cute"ing it up on their ad-bannered blog. If I do DadBlog, you can bet my sponsors won't be Alberto-VO5 and the Venus Razor. Probably be some sort of banned fat-burner and a prostate massager.

Being A Man isn't easy. I don't mean the biological travel with testicles and what is, technically, a penis. I am not talking about being the not-Woman in the relationship. I'm talking about Strength, Courage, Heart, Integrity, and Leadership, combined with Love, Tenderness, Intellect, and The Ability To Love-Make upwards of 16 consecutive minutes. The more I study and read and discuss the role of the Man in His Own World, the more I realize we're just people with expectations thrust upon us by society and Tyler Perry movies. How we respond to our own expectations and our own impulses and Life, now, that is totally up to us as Men. Being a Man is NOT a "role" to play, such as Dad or Husband or AdultBaby. It is the overall Being Man, who happens to be... Father, Husband, Worker, Comedian, Philosoraptor, Student of Life, and the like... which intrigues me.

So that's my quest for the moment. To DadBlog, or Not To DadBlog?
Any thoughts?

Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad


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

No Comment is Good Comment

I was reminded this morning of a favorite Corporate Panic moment. One of those where, in the vein of "Paralysis by Analysis," we'd hit the wall on getting a project approved. After 5 rounds of documenting the process, refining it, mocking it up, running tests on it, the final package was sent around for comments... heh-heh, "package comments"... and NOBODY SAID ANYTHING BAD ABOUT IT. We had addressed everything that raised red flags, fixed bugs, and were ready to roll on this hot new version of your own "at-home Frozen Yogurt tap," or the "Icy FroGo!" (kind of kidding)

Long story short, we took it to the VP with proof that we'd met all requirements to get this thing launched, from cost to execution to benefit. And when she looked at it with full approval from everyone, her comment was a classic Corporate response:

"I'd like some folks to vet the comments you have received to see if they are valid."

In other words, she wanted comments on comments. Opinions of opinions.

Two weeks later we had not only received all the Comments on the Comments, and reviewed them in another 7 hours of meetings, but we MISSED OUR LAUNCH DATE for the Quarter!

So, before you open your mouth about your work, your dinner, the perfume of a co-worker, or why the shopping mall doesn't have a knife store, remember that your opinion has been considered, and was deemed a soft, round, pointless turd by your exclusion in the planning phase.

You're welcome.

Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad


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

The C Word

Months ago when I performed at a benefit show for the Amanda Knox Defense Fund, a cause I hope the best for and my right as an American to contribute my time to, I was called-out by a pseud0-journalist for "call(ing) women derogatory names."

The C-word, in particular, is what he was referring to. C. U. N. T. Let it rip in the car when you're alone if you like. See how it feels. It's stunted. It's the textual equivalent of stubbing your toe at 3 am trying to sneak outta the bedroom for a quick NyQuil-Tonic and cannabis brownie. It's a blurt. And my intent was never to derogatate the women of the world, my spheres, my past, present, nor future. And most of them never even saw the reference the other writer had stood next-to with his hands on his hips and called attention to.

The word was used in this context:

"If you'd like to let it be known how you feel about the benefit show or the fund or the comedy, you should show up instead of just wuss-blogging. Be a physical presence.

But don't take that as the GreenLight to overstep your bounds of courtesy and

get physical with anybody you don't agree with,

you C*nt."

~Geoff Lott 2010

I mean it, when I use it in the privacy of my own car and never around my son or wife, to fire a shot at both men AND women. I don't specify a gender with it. In my world, C*NT goes both ways, same way the British use it, CLASSY-like.

And the more I thought about the dude who misinterpreted my use of the word, the more I researched his work. He had a near-complete documenting of every step, print, slash, stab, splatter, splice, slice, and dying breath in the Meredith Kercher murder. He had pieced it all together for people to read. I wonder how Meredith's family felt about that information being out in the world?

Even more-so, if you're the type of person who takes it upon themeselves to dig up what you deem to be a dark, dank, depressing moment in Humanity which may have gone otherwise overlooked... if you take it upon yourself to try and stir outrage... if you decide it is your word and not the word of others that should be taken as Authority in their lives...

You're a total fartface.

{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{{*}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}}
Take Me Home
My Blog About My Dad


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

Bookin'

Los Angeles is still the hub of entertainmental living. You can't not do something once you leave the 1-Bedroom you pay too much to sleep and shower in thrice a week. After last night's foray to 3Clubs for the Montreal showcase (went First, great set, Seattle hang-out), I spent today back in Culver City working on The Book and talking with a few people who I respect greatly, and not just for their fantastic hairlines.

So as I ponder re-writing The Book to encompass a few other lessons about corporate management and survival, I came across the "Self Hurt" series at a kitsch store in Westwood. Their titles include "How To Get Fat," "How to Procrastinate," and a great tome titled "How To Traumatize Your Children." (I'm thinking "clown posters," but I'm old-fashioned). So that may be the way to go. From there I had to get to a show that did not go well... let me explain...

I was "supposed to" go up at this show, but didn't. The guy "running the room" was basically bumping me, allowing his friends to go long while he waited for people he already knew to show up. In other words, he was working on the idea that what MAY happen was better than what WOULD happen for sure. I think this is what THE SECRET was based upon. I have very little Ego. But I do have Pride. And a career of making people laugh of which I am rather proud. So, meh, I shrugged and left. I'm not waiting until 11:45. There's a difference between Passion and The Need for Validation. My bit about Assisted Suicide will have to wait, though it would have been very fitting in that situation.

It reminded me of every reason that LA is a terrible environment, at times, to do comedy in. At least at that show, which I have only ever seen go well ONCE. Another reason to love and appreciate the Seattle comedy scene.

I'm out. Good night.

Take Me Home

My Blog About My Dad

Your Dirty Windows

The on-set of FaceBook, MySpace, SpaceBalls, BallBook, MyFaceOnBalls, BallFace, BallSpace, and CuteOverload.org all funnels into the same market of the 'net now known as "Social Media." We decide, choose, and connect how we wanna connect. You can't force somebody to be your friend on the 'net. There's no booze, no coke, no lingering feelings of parental neglect. No immediate pay-off to a relationship. So superficial. So 2009.

I wanna be your on-line friend, so I can stalk you from afar, and you can see how fat I got after Senior Year. Which, if I had to do over again, I would skip WAY more often. The schooling, not the fatness. Wow. My kids are skipping whether they like it or not. I'll force my kids to skip HOME Schooling and go hang at the local alternative high for crap's sake. FOR CRAP'S SAKE, MARC, YER TAKIN' THE PISS! Now, as people carry on posting pictures of their lives, we get a peek into what's important to them. And it varies up the scale of age.

Family and Married People post pics of their kids. If I want somebody to see my kids, I'll hold my kid over the balcony, thank you. But DAMN, my family and friends put out some really cute kids (NIECES PIECES RILEY!). Okay, fine. Now the "internet public is clamoring for more of the Obama's Daughters!" Bigger than Miley Cyrus!?!?! Not at WalMart! Not yet...

Single people post pictures of places they got drunk, taken while they were drunk in those places. Bathing suits on the hotties. Self-pics. Double-fisting (that oughtta get some hits). LOTS of hugs.

Anybody still in high school, emotionally anyway, posts pics they take of theyselves and they friends and they partying in a car, throwin' finger signs and being awesome. What-what? No. No.

So, now that we have a billboard unto the world to tell 'em all what we're about? We have unparalleled access and capability to say "CHECK ME OUT." And while people become their own paparazzi, I'm just not seeing much that's exciting enough to tune back in for. And THAT banality is exactly what is so intriguing!

Please, keep doing what you're doing, and posting the photographic evidence of your life. Someday, we'll look back and remember how great you could have been, until you came down with autophotoluciopia... Blindness caused by taking pictures of yourself because you don't have any actual friends to snap one for you, fart-saver.


Take Me Home

My Blog About My Dad