Where a father attempts to review the new Final Fantasy game.
The moment you know you have reached middle age, and are happy to do so.
Mexico has many problems, but they shouldn’t stop you from visiting one of its jewels.
Reflecting on the baptism of my daughter into the Catholic Church.
From Mad Rocket Scientist comes this brief but amazing reflection on fatherhood and the word “love.”
Learn. Or else.
These days, I probably write more posts about being a parent than anything else (aside from left-leaning wonks, of course). This is as it should be, since I spend a solid 30 hours/week caring for two children under the age of two. Other than respiration and opening large bottles of bourbon, no other single activity…
The last time I saw my father I was twelve years old. Before boarding the airplane that would return me to the home of my mother and step-father, I had sat on the edge of my father’s bed, next to him, upset and uncertain. We were nearing the end of my second six-week visit back…
Pamela Paul has a rather Slate-ish post up at The Atlantic, asking the controversial question: Are Fathers Necessary? Unsurprisingly, her conclusion is no. Not really. “The bad news for Dad is that despite common perception, there’s nothing objectively essential about his contribution,” she writes. “The good news is, we’ve gotten used to him.” There’s plenty…
When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things… …and now that I am a father I can take them out again and play!