"Excuses are the nails that build the house failure."

Paul Bunyan's Beard

Family Dinner

Family Dinner

Seems like a tradition that got incinerated right along with the dinosaurs.  Everyone looked forward to family dinner.  And not just for the food but for the GATHERING.

Usually, and somewhat ironically, dinner almost always involved a random family member swinging by or neighbor peeking in quick after they got done raking the yard.  Checking to see if the old man wanted to take down a cold one while all the kids ran around the neighborhood playing capture the flag.  Remember, we didn't grow up with the curse that is the cellphone.  There was a landline and that shit was forbidden during dinner.  So if she rang you let her ring.  And the direct result of the rule produced guests, albeit unwanted guests....at least that's the look your mother's face gave away.

Ahhhh, family dinner.  We absolutely sat down as a family every night of the week.  Exceptions included school sporting events any one of us kids might be involved in to weekend sleepovers.  Outside of a few instances we were expected to have our rosy little asses planted in those seats when mom made the call for the final meal of the day.

Of course as is the case with most experiences we had while growing up I really miss the traditional family dinners.  Looking back I could definitely forego the constant bickering with my two younger brothers and younger sister and yet....maybe not.  See, that was just a small part of what made the overall circus so great.

Some of my family's best moments were the immediate aftermath of a classic battle started by my brother kicking my shin, followed by my sister feeding the dog under the table, followed by my mother threatening to give us all up for adoption, to my father calling down the thunder of finality.

Looking back now, I wish I could tell my younger self to hang on tight.  It's just no longer the same.  Now, much like every minute of everyday, each member of each family has their nose buried in a screen of some sort.

For the love of my piping hot twice baked potato!  The other day we were out for dinner.  We moseyed up to the bar for a drink before getting a table when I looked over and saw what the feeling of sadness actually looks like.  I thought I was looking at the moment when someone told the 'Double Rainbow' guy there really is NO meaning to a double rainbow.  That it's just an optical illusion.  Crushing.  There, a few stools away, was a father and his daughter.  Just the two of them.  He was sipping his drink while she was sitting their like the little brat she was watching something on an iPad....with headphones on!  Not the earbuds you might wear running, mind you.  But the unnecessarily giant 'Beats' by Dre headphones.  Smack dab in the middle of the bar.  I'll be deadpan serious with you folks.  I felt a little piece of America get torn from the flag that day.  So pathetic.

Now, could be a multitude of reasons why it's just father and daughter, to which I will guess zero times, for it's none of my damn business.  HOWEVER, there can be ZERO excuses when it comes to what my eyes lay witness to.  Zero communication.  Figure it out ass clowns.

I know I'm not the only one out there.  Hell, we all crave human interaction.  Unfortunately though it's become this mirage of its former self.  Now everyone thinks a text or one of those lame-ass emoji's is sufficient communication.  I WANT TO TALK TO SOMEONE DAMMIT!  Where did it all go??  I'd even take the little fights again.  Just to get something out of dinner besides a side of mashed potatoes or a cool, tall glass of moo juice.

The only fighting that goes on today stems around too much phone use at the table yet you're usually just yelling at yourself because no one else is listening.  They're too busy refreshing the Facebook page they just scrolled all the way through.  Ya know, cause there might be a relevant update which took place in the 2 minutes they'd been surfing.  Come on.

Time to Jurassic Park the family dinner.  By that I mean it's time we recruited a creepy old man to escort us by helicopter to a remote island where family dinners are once again being created.  Oh, and this old bastard comes complete with a cane as well.  No mosquito in HIS walking apparatus though.  This pioneer has a dinner triangle trapped in there.  

Time to bring them back.  Time to gather as we were always meant to gather.  For as far back as we've been able to record there have been men breaking bread at tables across this Earth.  Songs were sung!  Drinks were passed!  Pets benefited!  EVERYONE benefited!  Get out the aprons and the silverware....We're going to war.

Family dinners.  A tradition meant to be shared.



Set Sail

Life Rule # 361.  Called Up From the Bullpen.  Low In the Rotation

Life Rule # 361. Called Up From the Bullpen. Low In the Rotation

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