Category: Life

  • Happiness

    I have been thinking a lot about what would make me happy. Is there one thing, that if it occurred, I would be happy from now till the end of my days? I mean, is that even possible?

    I have this feeling, a thought in the back of my head, that there isn’t one thing that brings about happiness. Happiness is attained, and also is a choice.

    And, an additional $500 a month would get me really damn close to being happy.

    I guess what I’m saying is that security also is a form of happiness.

    Maybe fulfillment? That can bring about happiness. So.. yeah, sure, I’ll go with that; fulfillment.

    You know, about five years ago, I had a phone interview for a prestigious job in San Francisco, which would have had me working for this really important theatre school. But to be honest, I don’t remember the name of the theatre school, so it wasn’t that prestigious. Anyway, I was on the phone with the head of the whole place, someone very important, and we are hitting it off, and I felt like the job is going to be offered to me. Then the head of the place asks me if I could do anything, what would I do – I didn’t miss a beat and said confidently, “I would be in a cabin in the woods, reading books, and writing.”

    There was a long pause, and I knew that in this pause was the silent sound of this job slipping away because what I should have said was something along the lines of, “Working at this school,” or “Doing theatre,” or anything relating to the job, and not the truth of what would really make me happy.

    Or…

    As I try to ret-con this part of my life, maybe I finally admitted out loud what I really want to do with my life to be happy.

    But I could still use that extra $500, though.

  • Lack of Sleep

    Oh, lord in heaven… we did not sleep last night in our home.

    The kid had sleeping issues, and it was difficult for her to fall asleep. Every half hour she was up, and it went on until 1am. This doesn’t happen very often, as the kid is a great sleeper. She always has been. Even as a baby, once you put her down, she was out. In fact, we stopped telling other parents about how well our daughter slept because we could just feel the red-hot hatred and contempt that would get shot at us from our sleep deprived friends.

    But this was hard. I think a little of it had to do with the Sunday Night Blues, and not wanting to go to school after a fun weekend. Also, I think she got a little too wound up after dinner with TV, and video games. Normally we turn screens off a half hour before bed, but we slipped up as parents. And once the kid starts having difficulty sleeping, it’s like a self-fulfilling prophecy. She gets so worked up that she’s not falling asleep right away that she starts worrying that she’ll never fall asleep.

    What we were left with was a family all worn out in the morning, but we powered through it.

    For me and the wife, who seemed to have lived most of our life without enough sleep, it just felt par for the course.

    But, oh, the kid… poor kid. This was a special kind of awful that she wasn’t sure how to deal with. She was quiet, this morning, but she got up, ate breakfast, and got ready. We left on time, and made it to school early, in fact. But, it was her being quiet the whole time which was the tell that she was not having any of this.

    I wish I could tell her that life as a grown up isn’t normally like this, but this is what life as a grown up is like. You never get enough sleep.

    And when you do sleep, you wake up early for no reason at all.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Rain, Puddles, Tottenham v Arsenal, and Disco Playlist

    (SWITCH… Jimmy Smits)

    It’s flooding in NYC, y’all! Take a look:

    I found this on Twitter/X this morning showing a bus in Brooklyn. I was out doing the Alt Parking at 8:30am and the water was coming up over the curb. This is a lot of rain. Like Texas flood kind’a rain. And last weekend we had the remnants of that tropical storm sit on top of the City for three days and dump loads of rain. Up where we live in Harlem, I don’t think about it flooding as compared to Lower Manhattan, which doesn’t take much submerge that part of the City. But it just won’t stop.

    Taking the kid to school this morning meant that we had to trudge out in the rain. We had on rain boots, and rain coats, with umbrellas over the top of us. Not that any of this gear stop us from getting wet, but it wasn’t that bad. And what made it a fun walk to school was the numerous amount of puddles along the way. Which, when you are wet already, what’s the harm of slashing in a puddle or two. And there is something deeply innocent and extremely satisfying in stomping through a puddle. It never is not fun. It is an act that serves no purpose other than making you happy, and identifying people who are sticks-in-the-mud.

    The North London Derby ended in a draw. From my totally biased Tottenham Hotspur point of view – it was just as good as a win.

    And, I started making a playlist for when I am at the gym. It’s nothing but disco music, but specifically, the disco music I remember hearing as a kid. And as I am compiling this list, I can’t shake the feeling that this music is sweaty. Like it conjures up the feeling of being hot and sweaty on a dance floor – in the Summer. And it’s not an image I get in my mind, but a feeling, a sensation of being on polyester and dancing.

  • The Scourge of Dads Who Rap

    This morning as I was walking my daughter to school, she started talking to me about what she considers her “look.” You know, the fashion and style the uniquely defines who she is. Right now, that would be carpenter pants, tee-shirts, and over-sized cardigan sweaters. (Let’s go 90’s!) Then I told her that I used to dress sort of the same way back in high school. And to a degree, my go to look is still jeans, tee-shirts and a sweater.

    I became curious, so I asked if I had a “look” that was apparent?

    I was told that I dress like a dad.

    Is that cool? I followed.

    No.

    Is it embarrassing?

    Not really.

    Is it as embarrassing as a dad rap?

    She grew puzzled. What’s a dad rap?

    You don’t know what a dad rap is?!?!? I was honestly shocked that this had not entered on the radar of my kids life.

    For those of you who don’t know, this is the best example of “Dad Rap” I know of:

    Yes, back in the late 80’s and early 90’s, us kids were subjected to the scourge of dads trying to rap. Just as in the clip, dads would turn the baseball caps around, do weird things with their hands, and always, and I mean ALWAYS, use the “I’m (dad’s name) and I’m here to say…” line.

    I guess it was always meant as a joke by dads. The cringe factor, and trying to embarrass your kids. But it happened so often. Like, at school, PTA meetings, at church, at friend’s houses, little league games; anywhere there was a dad and a group of kids, a dad rap was bound to show up.

    And the other thing that The Simpsons gets 100% Right, are the kids begging for Homer to stop and promise never to do that again. I think the only thing missing would have been a kid angrily reminding their dad that they’re not cool.

    I was lucky enough that my dad never did anything like this. (No, his song that he’d sing to embarrass us was “Doo Wah Diddy.”) But even though he didn’t rap, I do remember thinking as I watched Kevin’s dad rap about putting hotdogs on the grill, that I would never dad rap in front of my kid, let alone their friends.

    So, as we walked to school, I tried to explain to my kid what dads rapping was, why kids hated it, and how it was so awful and embarrassing. I wasn’t doing that great of a job, because, devilishly, she asked me to do a dad rap, so she could know for sure what it was like.

    So I did it. I did the “I’m Matt Groff, and I’m here to say…” line. Followed with, “I love my daughter in a major way.” I turned my ballcap around. I did weird had gestures.

    It did make the kid laugh.

    But she made me promise never to do that again.

  • Soup Season

    (I’m going to sound like a very old man, and I don’t care.)

    Autumn for some people means sweaters. Others, it’s Halloween. For the annoying, it’s pumpkin spice in everything. Cooler weather, leaves changing, sports on a weekend afternoon – all that stuff – you know, Fall. And for me, it is the start of soup season; I’m talking homemade soups. The cooler the weather, and the cloudier the day, all the better.

    First is just making the stock, which most of the time coincides with the leftover bones from a roasted chicken. If I have time, I’ll do the stock pot on the stove, but most of the time I have to use the Instant Pot. In about 2 hours, or less, I can have 10 cups of deep golden broth, but the best part is the warm, homey smell that fills my home as it’s cooking.

    Actually, I take that back. The best part is that my kid gets in on the action of making stock. We have done it enough times, that she’s got the recipe down and, with some guidance using a knife, can throw the whole thing together all by herself. That’s pretty cool, as a parent.

    This year, I chose to kick off soup season with a simple and hearty recipe – Potato Leek. I go with this recipe from Robert Irvine, as it is pretty simple and fool proof. I can say that there are more flavorful recipes out there, but they are rather involved, and some nights you just want to eat sooner than later.

    Besides, in my theory of soup making, soup should be simple.

    I do cook often for my family now, and I have some pretty good go-to recipes that I can now make off the top of my head. But there is something about making a good soup, or stew, for my family on a cold evening that is deeply satisfying. More so than any other meal I prepare. It does feel a little like kitchen magic; putting the ingredients in a pot, letting it boil to create something new. Then more ingredients, and simmering, and more time. Maybe it’s the amount of effort that goes into it – maybe. It could be that the meal is basic, and simple. A simple act that takes a long time. Maybe.