That Had To Suck

On my way to work this morning (I wanted to say en route, I just didn’t think I could start a paragraph with it) I was part of what is at least a weekly phenomenon for highway travelers. The instance when suddenly every car ahead of you, in every lane, must suddenly go from doing 65 to slamming their brakes, for no apparent reason. To make this morning’s occurrence even more special, a guy in the far left lane, hit his brakes and felt the need to move to the shoulder, in order to avoid slamming into the car ahead of him. And I saw him clip the cement divider, and sparks flew, but just as randomly as it began, it ended and everyone resumed their normal speed. But this poor bastard was left with some, what I assume is, significant damage to the driver-side of his car. That’s how he started his week. I saw him shaking his head, and I can only imagine the level of fury he must feel. Now he gets to go to work and tell his story, and then I’m guessing, he gets to tell his wife. So no matter how crappy this morning goes, at least I didn’t hit a cement wall.

Hirp Control

So I hear that the Governor of Kansas has signed off on a bill that makes it legal to own fully automatic machine guns, sawed off shot guns and silencers. Now, I’m pretty much in favor of gun control, because I really don’t think we need to worry about the Red Coats anymore. And I’m pretty sure the majority of guns used in crimes, were at one time, purchased legally. But that being said, who the hell needs a fully automatic? What useful purpose does a sawed off serve? And other than hit men, who would want a silencer? Reminds me of a line from a De La Soul song, goes something like this: "gun control in my land, means using both hands."

I have friends who won’t live in Missouri because they feel that strongly about the KU-MU rivalry and I can almost respect that. I just think if you’re going to take such a strong stance, you can do so for something a little more serious. Just move over to Lee’s Summit, sure we have more pick ups than BMW’s, but the margins are shrinking. Other than that National Title, what else has Kansas been in the news for in the past few years? Not teaching evolution, Ron Phelps, sex scandal, “High School Confidential” (which I need to watch I’m told by Red, because it takes place at our alma mater) and now a Kansan resident can have a full arsenal of guns. That’s just greeeaaaat. My cousin in California loved the KU-MU rivalry so much; he purchased one of the “Keeping America Safe from Missouri since 1863” tee shirts. But I’m pretty sure we don’t need weapons to keep America safe from Missouri anymore.

Hirparent

Last night the KC area had a bit of an electrical storm, and now you’re wondering why this blog worthy is. Well, our place didn’t catch fire, nor do I know anyone whose home did. What happened was so subtle, and personal. So of course I have to make it public. The sound of the hail and thunder woke up the kid around 2:30, and it wasn’t but a minute or two later that she was in our bed. And amazingly, she chose me to snuggle up against. This isn’t like the first time she’s felt safe with me, or gone to me for comfort, but based on the night we had before the storm, I’m pretty moved by it.

See earlier in the night there were some battle lines drawn, over bed time of course. And I kind of messed up, and stepped on mommies toes and tried to lay down the law to get her to stay in bed. Um, this backfired, and so I felt like crap for most of the night. She balled some more, and I kicked myself for the remainder of the night. Then the storm hits, and she finds security in me. So yeah, I was kind of hit by a lightening bolt last night.

And this morning I find myself thinking about parenting, or technically “step-parenting.” Personally, I hate the term, and “step-dad” isn’t a label we often use. I’m a parent now, really have been for the past 6 months or so. But I’m not dad, nor do I have any interest in replacing or father or competing with him for her affections. I have nieces and nephews who lost their father, and I learned then that trying to replace him would be the quickest way to end our relationship. I’m sure it’s all very confusing for her, and we’ve tried very hard to educate her that I’m a friend, not her father.

But that doesn’t change the fact that at times I have to play the role of “dad.” This is different from the role of “big daddy,” so get that out of your mind. And as a team, we do really well. I mean really well, and we saw proof of that in Mexico, not to brag or anything. Okay, fine, I’ll brag. I take a very small, miniscule even, amount of credit for how well adjusted this child is. And that means the world to me.

So this morning I can’t get over the fact that I’m a parent, a sentiment I imagine most of my friends with children of their own often feel. And I really don’t think they feel any differently than I do about this child and this huge responsibility. It’s terrifying, rewarding, empowering and humbling all at once. This isn’t some huge revelation either, I’ve fully understood the magnitude of all this from the very beginning. I just never imagined that one scary storm would floor a relatively full grown adult.

I Did, part II

So we finally made it to Mexico, and as Porqchop said, Frontier is the way to go. The flight from KC to Cancun is as long as our drive from KC to Springfield. Do you have any idea how sick that made us feel? And we had no clue Springfield even had an airport. We take our bus from the airport to the hotel, and after finally checking in we see the ocean.

Just a gorgeous beach. But we’re still a little worried, because we read some not so favorable reviews. We trust my folks, but having a group of 24, we knew some could run into various issues. And they did. A stank room and no A/C, that doesn’t spell fun. But the issues were pretty much solved, and fairly quickly. We found ‘Chop and some other friends almost immediately, re-enforcing our confidence in choosing to get married at a smaller resort.

The next couple of days were spent lounging on the beach and by the pool, playing with the kid (who did an amazing job of warming up to everyone and getting over her shyness, as well as soaking in all the attention as the only child in the group). And then it was Game Time.

Saturday came, and off went Mrs. Hirp to get her hair done. I went to my folks room to get dressed, then hit the pool bar to get a beer for the nerves. Not nervous about getting married, just the attention. And by this time, the attention wasn’t just from our friends and family. We had become celebs of sorts around the resort. Thanks in large part to my mother, who announced we were getting married to every single person she saw. I heard plenty of “good lucks” and a few “don’t do it” cracks. This just added to the experience, I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t have happened had we been married in KC.

Then everyone finds there way to the spot on the beach where we were to take the giant leap. And they waited, and then waited a little more. Shit, the bride is running late. I said running LATE, not away. Turns out there were some communication problems with the hair stylist. So we started maybe 2 minutes late, and my mother was already crying. Hell, she was crying the day before at the rehearsal. And I don’t mean getting misty, she was crying. It was great. It helped that we had my brother, who was also marrying us, sing her favorite song “Sunrise, Sunset” which guarantees tears like the water in Mexico guarantees tears from the other end. Then we learned how hard it can be to walk gracefully in sand, luckily we were barefoot.

In no time I was standing in front of our family and friends repeating the vows we wrote. We must admit the reading about marriage wasn’t ours; we stole it from Paul Newman. Hey, if you’re gonna borrow (steal) from someone, there’s lesser man to borrow from.

And just like that, I was married. Suddenly everything changed, yet remarkably it stayed the same. Game over.

I Did...

I’m baaack. And I have a wife now. ( reading, typing and saying that still knocks me on my ass) It was a phenomenal week, and there are pictures to come soon. Most will be on our mywedding.com site.

But let me share the expiernce with you, and it started days before we exchanged vows. Not sure if you heard about it, but recently American Airlines decided they should ground some flights. Just so happens they grounded the model of plane we were scheduled to depart for Dallas on April 10th. So my dad calls the airline at 3pm on the 9th, and they said all things were a go. Good news right? Yes, but then 6pm came. When my now mother-in law called and said they heard the flight was cancelled. Needless to say, panic set in. Turns out, the flight was cancelled. Um, fucking shit comes to mind. The next 4 hours were spent trying to get a hold of someone at the airlines.

Finally that happens, and we’re faced with new decisions. How do we get to Dallas? Our flight out of Dallas leaves at noon, and it’s now 11pm. American has offered us a flight out of Springfield Missouri, just 3 ½ hours away. To make things even more complicated, there’s 7 of us on the flight. The plan is to rent a mini van and leave for Springfield at 1:30am. Then there’s a new hurdle, the car rental place at Kansas City International Airport closes at 12, and it’s 11:40. My dad is en route, but probably wont make it. I call, and of course there is no direct line, so I tell the operator for the company our story. She contacts the office and shares the story with them, and they stay open till 1am just for us.

That’s the type of customer service you see re-created in a commercial, I had no idea that stuff really happened. So at 1:30 we all meet at the airport, so we can have our cars there when we get home, and head out. The ride wasn’t completely uneventful, although I slept through most of it, just to be woken the few times my dad started to dose and ran on the edge of the highway. Had I been awake, I probably would have needed to change my boxers.

We made it though, but I won’t lie. The bride, as well as myself, were a bit nervous about what the week held for us after this start. And I’ll tell you about that later.

Been a few...

I haven’t blogged in a while, I know, and I’m sorry. That’s a bad Hirp. I guess I’ve had a bit of writers block of late. Instead of thinking of things to bitch about, I have been pretty focused on this whole wedding thing. And no, the feet aren’t cold. They aren’t luke warm, nor are they heating up from getting so close to the flame. In fact, I’m not at all nervous about getting married. And I am, by nature, a pretty nervous guy. I often meet the expectations set forth by the stereotypical Jew. Have you seen Brighton Beach Memoirs or Biloxi Blues? That could almost be me.

But I’m not at all nervous, just totally out of my mind excited. Excited about everything really, from the ceremony to just hanging out on the beach having drinks, to just making a life with this woman (this very brave perhaps confused, woman.) I’ve come up with a character I do at home, I guess it’s a character. It’s how I envision myself as an old married man. Asking if she’s seen my pills, complaining about having to pee again, yapping endlessly about the good ole days. I’m actually looking forward to that. Really, the one thing I’m not looking forward to is when the kid starts dating (or the teenage years entirely)

So I haven’t blogged much. And I think, at least for a while, the blog may change a bit. From what I hear, it kind has already. I still have plenty to bitch and moan about, but if you could only see how the conversations during poker games have changed. You’d think on the one night a month the guys are free of the wives and kids, free to play cards, drink, watch porn and crack jokes, they’d do exactly that. Well, it happens, but not like it used to. So as the table talk has turned from tits to tots and downing bottles to warming bottles, I think it’s safe to assume the blogging will change too.

Many, well most, don’t know this tid-bit. But it turns out; this blog helped me tremendously with winning the girl over. Before she and I met, some friends of mine who worked with Mrs. Hirp got her to start reading this little spot on the web to get to know me. And some how, by the grace of some thing or someone, she liked what she read and wasn’t scared for her life. Well, she may have been scared, but she also liked it.