Breathing my Mind into Your Face

I’ve got 23 minutes to kill before my meeting. I could prep for it by preparing some helpful insights for my client, but I’ll pass. Nothing promised, nothing delivered. Keep expectations low. One of the first bits of advice I received when I started in advertising was to underpromise and overdeliver. I’ve always been more of an overpromise underdeliver kind of guy. I like to describe the most beautiful solution to a problem, regardless of whether my company can do it. Nowadays I don’t promise much. Years of depending on other people to do a job has taught me that the result will never be as I envisioned.

It was Mother’s Day on Sunday. We went to the Tigers game with my in-laws who just returned from their Florida half of the year. It was chilly in the shaded right field bleachers where we were sitting. The game was boring, my son puked up his hot dog just before getting on the ballpark carousel (but still wanted to take the carousel ride right after the upchuck), and the Tigers lost. That being said, a memory was made. Even if only minor fun was had, we still can look back on Mother’s Day 2025 as the day we went to the Tiger’s game. We can say to friends that we did something instead of just hanging out at home, even though all six of us would’ve rather stayed home.

The kids have six baseball games combined this week. As a result, I’ll be skipping golf league on Wednesday. I’ll also be skipping three of the games on Friday since I’ll be in South Carolina with my brother and two of his friends. My friends are lame so it’ll just be me and the three wild boys 7.5 years my junior. We’re golfing three days and it’s bike week in Myrtle Beach. My bro’s friends will be drunk and coked up all three days. I’ll be driving everyone around to various bars and/or strip clubs in the evenings. I have to be sure to tell them they may need to Uber home because I will get sick of the scene at the redneck biker bars. I plan to bring weed and shrooms. I don’t plan on doing any coke but I probably will (after I see if the others die from it first). My wife is worried about what sort of trouble I’ll get into thanks to my crazy bro. This is a justifiable worry, that motherfucker cray cray. 

Gotta go talk marketing now.