- [Crash!]
- “Dad?”
- “Dad!”
- “Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!”
- “Where the hell is dad?”
- “If he was up your butt you’d know”
- “Shut up!”
- “You shut–”
- [Crash!]
- (Tandem) “Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!”
- “There he is. He’s at his desk with his headphones on pretending he can’t hear us–DAD!”
- “WHAT!”
- “The dog pooped on Uncle Marty’s bed again.”
13 Things I Would Never Hear Again if I Power Drilled Through My Eardrums
Out of the Mouthes of Babes . . .
I know what I need to do.
I need to kill something.
That’s going to help my self-esteem.
Roon, age 12, playing Call of Duty . . .
I Might Have Been Mentioned Somewhere . . .
Like in ChicGalleria.com, an online magazine unafraid to run my picture. Their bravery is singular and you should visit their site IMMEDIATELY!
Here’s some sample comments, in case you’re busy or you’re just too moved for words. Just cut & paste:
- My GOD that’s a good looking man!
- The writing in this book is so eloquent and smooth, like he’s not even, it’s like — words fail me.
- Is this a how-to book?
- Are there recipes?
- Isn’t this a woman’s magazine?
- That guy called his dog gay. HE CALLED HIS DOG GAY! His dog isn’t gay, it’s just a Border Collie. They can’t help it. They’re prancy!
Art Can Save the World
I was talking to my niece today about the weird circle of influence among artists. I am a writer but, really, I am more influenced by visual artists than other writers; a musician friend of mine is more influenced by writers than musicians; a visual artist I know has one of the best libraries in Chicago. So I offer this link as an opportunity for you to have your mind, how do we say, bah lown.
The Legless Photographer.
Dinner and a Booby
We run a tight ship around here at Casa de Death. No cussin. No runnin’ with scissors. No mixing metaphors. Also, we’re dead set against public nudity. This is not true of everyone in our neighborhood.
There’s a fantastic Mexican/Guatemalan restaurant a couple of blocks away. We love it. Eat there all the time. In fact, we don’t even call it by its actual name (because we’d get sued). We call it by the name of the exuberant owner. We call it Juan’s. Some families order Chinese. We say, let’s eat at Juan’s. And so there we were the other night, peacefully crunching through some lomo de Res con nopalitos, chicken flautas, and steak quesadillas when I casually glance across the street and notice a light come on in a second story window. Oh, how nice, I think. I didn’t know anyone lived over those nondescript businesses. Someone lives there. That’s where they live. There.
I’m bringing a forkful of lomo and nopalitas (steak and baby cactus) to my mouth when the person who lives there steps into view and proves beyond a shadow of a doubt they not only live there, they also poop there.
Most bathroom windows are made from frosted or pebbled glass. Not this one. This one was carved from pure gas plasma high definition glass. As I stared, agog, through the remarkably clear possibly magnifying unfrosted pane, an elderly woman removed her robe and sat on what I could only assume was a pissoir and opened what I could only assume was a magazine (Exhibitionist Monthly?) I watched in horror, steak and baby cactus dangling before my gaping mouth, as she thrust out her chin the tiniest little bit and, I assume, strained, ever so slightly.
[My Attorney]: What?
Me: Man, these tacos are scrumptious.
[My Attorney]: (not fooled for a minute) What.
My son: Dad? Why do you look scared?
Me: How’s your chicken oh my god!
The horror show across the street has gotten measurably worse. I will never be able to wipe it from my memory. As hard as I try now to wipe it from my mind, I cannot. I can’t wipe that image clear. It remains there where I can’t wipe it. Wipe. Wipe. Wipe.
Following my stricken countenance, [My Attoryney] and innocent child glance behind them and spit their flautas across the table. A flurry of Oh My Gods are whispered through fingers as we clamp our hands across our faces to wipe the horror from our horror wiped faces. Wipe.
Now we’re trying to finish our meal without calling attention to the free show happening across the street. [My Attorney] is facing mostly away and the boy child, so innocent, so pure, has his back to the window. Well, his chair has its back to the window. My kid is practicing yoga so he can eat while accidentally glancing out the window into the window.
Our waiter stops by, follows our glance across the street into the red light district, and pours cold water all over the guacamole. He tries to clean up but he keeps staring at our new friend who is now standing and putting on a shower cap. She does some sort of . . . examination? We’re not sure. All we know is the waiter poured water in the guac, the flautas, our empty margarita glasses, and onto the floor.
We figured she’d have to finish her ablutions and turn off the light but she did not. She continued to disappear and reappear, nekkid as all get out, as we finished our desert, politely refused to have our empty salsa cups refilled with coffee, and paid our check. She was doing some kind of pit maintenance as we drove away.
Two weeks later, we’re at a neighborhood party and mention this, purely out of an altruistic effort to perhaps communicate to this woman that her glass, she is not frosted. We mention it because a person at the party works in the building beneath the glaze de l’boudoir and we felt we had to tell her. Turns out the woman is not entirely shy and may not give a rats ass if people can see her flaunting her flab over their flautas.
I guess we’ll have to start requesting a table that faces the wall or perhaps only eat there in the daytime.
Alternate titles for this post:
“Rear Window”
“Room with a View”
DIY—Installing a Pre-Hung Screen Door in 10 Easy Steps.
Death By Children is about more than the nefarious and deadly machinations of our spawn or their efforts to render us twitching and pale from their ongoing appropriation of internet porn slang. It’s about a lifestyle, a way of going about your day with a kind of Zen focus, a way of being ever more self sufficient and capable. To that end, we present our ongoing series of Do It Yourself projects.
DIY #002: Pre-hung Screen Door.
Materials:
- Hammer
- Circular Saw
- Gaping hole in back porch
- Broken screen door hanging precariously on one hinge with sharpened metallic edges unspooling into a guantlet of razors
- Plumber’s wrench
- Three pocket knives (one non functional)
- Teflon Tape
- Duct tape
- Masking tape
- 7 to 12 screwdrivers of varying types and sizes
- Power drill
- Power drill
- Fairy dust
- Valium
Installation
- Once you have assembled your materials, turn off the power to the entire house.
- Look for the new screen door in the basement. Look for new screen door in the pantry. Look for new screen door at the neighbor’s house. Check out neighbor’s new Jag. Borrow a hammer.
- Go to hardware store and purchase DIY screen door—81 inches tall, 36 inches wide. Return home.
- Unpack contents of DIY screen door. Chase dogs away.
- Run after dogs and retrieve instructions. Measure doorway.
- Return to hardware store. Return door for DIY screen door 77 inches by 32 inches. Pay extra for not having all the parts or a receipt.
- Unpack contents of DIY screen door. Chase dogs away. Lay door out onto picnic table. Lay out all of your tools onto door. Drill 17 1/8 inch holes equal distances between top and bottom of door edge. Remove tools. Turn door over. Repeat. Think for a minute. Turn door over. Swing door around so the top (TOP) is toward the top (TOP) of workbench (PICNIC TABLE). Drill new holes.
- Attach door edge to door edge. Attempt to attach attached edges to gaping hole’s frame using hammer and power drill. Realize door weighs 714 pounds. Drop door on foot. Speak French. Leverage door on packing material until door is aligned with edge of gaping hole. Align alignment hole with 1/8 inch pre-drilled alignment—
- Drill a 1/8 inch alignment hole into Gaping Hole frame. Return to step 8.
- Attach DIY screen door to Gaping Hole frame using 34 1/8 inch machine screws, hammer, power drill, plumber’s wrench, blow torch, and teflon tape.
- Remove protective cover from pet entrance flap. Call dogs.
- Using the Power Drill, remove manufacturer’s screws from pet entrance flap. Using pliers, remove pet entrance flap from pet. Using duct tape, #13 jeweler’s hammer, and a whistle, reattach pet entrance flap to center of door.
- Dig through tool box for the hinge and cotter pin for the pneumatic door release arm. Attach to pre-installed door arm bracket and—
- Remove door. Turn exterior side (EXT) to exterior.
- Using power drill, salad tongs, a letter opener, and a power drill, reattach DIY screen door to Gaping Hole frame.
- Read instructions.
- Follow instructions reading: “Using pliers, move auto lock mechanism to full and fully extend pneumatic door release mechanism,” with perfect attention to detail. Attach fully extended pneumatic door release mechanism to door mechanism bracket. Attempt to close door.
- Apply upper body weight generously against DIY screen door. You should hear a “pop,” and a “loud metallic grinding,” whereupon your DIY door will drop three inches, slam itself halfway shut, and remain fixed in that position indefinitely.
Why My 11 Year Old Son Thought he Was Locked Out in the Dark.
He was.
But I didn’t know. It’s not some kind of post-redneck tough love program to rid him of his unnatural fear of life after sundown (He’s like a reverse vampire.) He tried the back door for reasons that will never become entirely clear, found it was locked (because of all the 11 year olds) and freaked out. Prudently deciding to alarm us of his presence, he knocked. Loudly. On the window. Which shattered.
Hope that clears that up.
Top 10 Rules for Replacing a Glass Window Pane Broken by Your Starving 11 Year Old Son who Thought He Was Locked Out in the Dark.
1. Look at son. Liberally apply hairy eyeball. Say “This is going to come out of your allowance.”
2. Assuming the glass is severely cracked, but not actually knocked out: liberally apply duct tape until the entire spidery shatter crack is covered. Say “I’ll get to it tomorrow.”
3. Three weeks later, respond to wife’s complaint that the excess masking tape looks like, as they say in France, merde, by carefully exactoing the edges of the masking tape so not a shred of tape exceeds the edges of the window frame. This should take about five hours and you need to go to the hardware store twice to buy a really expensive multi-head exacto knife and more tape.
4. Six months later, think about replacing the glass. Say out loud, “You know, I really ought to replace that glass.”
5. Merry Christmas.
6. After the spring thaw, go to the hardware store and spend no less than $78 on a glazing tool, glazing compound, window points, drill bits (you never know) a new roll of masking tape, one of those cool drain clog snake things, 19 feet of textured step pads, gardening stakes, and a 4 watt light bulb for the stove. Leave it all in the trunk of your car for through summer vacation.
7. After the summer heat subsides, go and replace the materials you left in the trunk of your car. Ask Glenn at ACE hardware to cut you a piece of glass. When he asks for dimensions, spit them out like you memorized them after carefully measuring. Glenn knows you didn’t, but Glenn’s not going to say anything because he’s been telling stories about your masterpiece home-improvement purchases for years. He uses you in his stand-up routine instead of making fun of people from Alabama. If he knew you were actually from Alabama, he’d never stop laughing.
8. Remove the wood frame pieces holding the glass in. Marvel at your skill. Clean all the old glazing putty off the wood. Sweep up. Get the glass out of the car. Carefully unwrap this perfect crystal square cut to your specifications. What power. What casual tool using elan. What do you do about the one inch gap between the wood and the top edge of the glass? You move the window up and down, as if there’s some middle position where the glass fills the frame. How? What? How did? How the hell did you not realize the panes weren’t perfect squares? Ok. Measure it again—where’s the tape measure? Shit. Oh, look, there’s a wooden ruler you bought for the kids. Measure the window. Don’t worry about the fact that the ruler doesn’t bend into the space so you can get an actual measurement. Eyeball it. Reapply tape.
10. Get Glenn to cut a new piece of glass. Act casual.
11. When you get home, lay a half inch thick rope of glazing putty all around the frame. Try and fit the glass in. It won’t because you gave Glenn OUTSIDE measurements instead of INSIDE measurements. The glass is exactly the same size as the hole in your door. Yeah, go ahead, try to force it.
11. Call the hardware store and ask for Glenn. Do this at least once a day until he’s not there. Go in and get a 1/4 inch shaved off the glass.
12. Using jeweler’s pliers (because you left your channel locks in the vanity you threw away two months ago) peel the dried putty out of the window frame. This should take a good three hours.
13. Replace glass using tub caulk because you put the glazing putty and the glass points down somewhere and you can’t find them. Make sure to use an ungodly amount of caulk so that when you press the glass into its new home, bright white silicon paste oozes out all over your door on the side you aren’t paying attention to. Also, since you don’t have the points, hold the glass in place with the bright blue electrical tape you bought as a joke three years ago (because you can’t find the duct tape (it’s in the trunk)). Replace the wooden slats of the frame. Buy another multi-head exacto knife (it’s in your trunk)Â and trim that blue tape.
Time: one year, four months, and nine days. Cost: $113.56.
Today, you are a man.




