Photo (4)Towards the end of The Empire Strikes Back, what is perhaps one of the greatest movies of all time, and the only acceptable answer to the question “What is the best Star Wars film?” Jedi Master Yoda and Ghost Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi are chilling out in the swamps of Dagobah.  Dagobah, incidentally, doesn’t appear to be a word that Microsoft Word knows, leading me to wonder what in the hell they are doing over in Redmond, Washington.

Anyway, Yoda and Ben are bemoaning the fact that Luke, who has just run off to attempt to rescue his friends from Darth Vader, has turned out to be a bit of a douche.  It’s a weird conversation for them to have because, up to this point, all Luke has done is rescue Princess Leia from an impregnable fortress, blown up the Death Star, and then, insofar as I can tell, spent at most a month or so studying to be a Jedi, thus accomplishing what usually takes someone most of their life in less time than it takes me to reliably do four blog posts.

Pretty impressive, is what I am saying.

Anyway (again), Ben is like “Ugh, that didn’t work” and Yoda says, “There is another” referring to the fact that Luke has a sister, Leia, who maybe can be counted on to save the universe.

This was an extremely long way to go to tell you, constant reader, that I am not the only one of my parents’ children who has a blog about his family.  There is another.

My brother also has a blog.  His is about him and his wife and their four (FOUR!) girls.  It’s actually a lot like my blog except, I think he would agree, a bit more sentimental and less…weird.  Also, his blog has significantly fewer incidents of T2 making testicle references.  So if you are tired of eight year olds making ball jokes, his blog may be more your speed.  Also, if you are tired of eight year olds making balls jokes I don’t even know you.

I mention his blog because he recently wrote about something that I had on my list of things to write about in the future.   My parents, the entire time we were growing up, would answer the innocuous question “what time is it?” by signing the entire theme song to the 1950’s television show Howdy Doody.  Every. Time.

I’ve no idea why, other than it was funny.  Well, funny to them.  To me too.  It drove my brother crazy.  Which, again, funny.   We intentionally just stopped asking and learned to tell time ourselves, which I suppose might have been the other reason they did it.

To this day, I still know all the words.  To this day, if either of the boys ask me what time it is…well, I think you can imagine what I do.

My brother apparently does the same thing to his kids.

So, I thought it was time for a blog crossover, like Superman and Batman or Captain America and Iron Man teaming up.  I am Batman and Iron Man in these scenarios, he is Superman and Captain America.  Anyone who knows us will confirm this.

I am going to be lazy and simply link to his blog and the post in question here. Go read it.

He covers the topic fantastically and expresses everything I would have said more or less as I would have seen it.  His blog in general is always a good read and gives you an excellent sense of what he is like as a man.  He’s impressive.

Apparently, blogging about your family is sort of an Ayers family thing.  Like keen minds and singing the theme song to “Howdy Doody” when anyone asks you what time it is, and giant penises.

Okay, like keen minds and signing the theme song to “Howdy Doody.”



2 thoughts on “Team-up

  1. My sons are more alike than they think. Who knew “Howdy Doody” would have such an effect.

  2. Hahaha. That’s awesome. My brother and I talk about “The Voice”. It was something that my dad did and it was like something out of Dune. You were strangely compelled to do what was said when The Voice was employed. The first time I heard it come out of my own mouth was a bit frightening.

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