Announcing The Celtic Crusader—the world’s first Irish dancing super hero

So … you’ve already seen Iron Man, The Hulk and The Dark Knight movies? Thought they were fairly exciting? Well, you ain’t seen NOTHING yet!

Enter The Celtic Crusader—the world’s first Irish dancing superhero. She’s twelve years old, wears an obnoxiously bright dress and fights evil one dance at a time.

And she’s got a website and on-line comic book to boot! You can visit her at http://www.celticcrusader.com/ (or by clicking the link on the new links section to the right). Her website contains information about CC (that’s what I call her), her super powers, enemies and her very first adventure, titled, A Case of Stage Fright! which is found by clicking on her picture on the My Adventures page.

So, grab your wives and daughters and join me in welcoming CC into our hearts, you’ll be glad you did!

--feis dad

Big Dog

I think I've made a mistake in my previous posts. They were all about Irish Dancing. I guess when the blog's about being a feis dad, that's what you'd expect. BUT, being a feis dad isn't just about Irish Dance. Obviously, we are interested in things other than Irish Dance (let's just say it's not number one on our list).

Given that, I will begin posting items I (as a feis dad) find interesting or cool. I would also ask for other feis dads to send me items of interest to post.

Okay, now to Big Dog. I was sent this link by a friend. Being an engineer, I thought this was really cool.

Here's a link to Boston Dynamics' robot called Big Dog ...

http://www.bostondynamics.com/content/sec.php?section=BigDog

Enjoy.

--feis dad

feis dad video: a lesson in feis etiquette

Here’s a video regarding what NOT to do during a feis. Comments on the video are welcome as long as they don’t involve my acting, photography, editing or directing abilities (which I have none :-).

Enjoy.

--feis dad

It could be worse

It’s late Sunday night. You’re driving home after a long day of feis-ing. The accordion music won’t stop echoing through your brain. The kids are cranky. The wife exhausted. You missed the game in which your team scored the most points in the history of the NFL. And tomorrow, you’ve got to pull a double shift just to pay for all of this fun.

Bleary eyed, you stop at a gas station for the last fill up before making it home. As you watch the gas pump bill of sale spin faster than a Las Vegas slot machine, you catch sight of the man across the pump from you.

His shoulders are slumped, face drawn, eyes hollow and empty. You recognize the look immediately—FDS.

Another feis dad!?

But wait, something’s different about him. The sheer and utter hopelessness in his eyes goes beyond what you’ve seen from other feis dads.

You wonder what could cause such misery and pain?

Then you spot it … the one thing that has sucked more men’s souls dry than disco music, chick flicks and 2 for 1 shoe sales at Dillard’s combined …

A horse.

In less than a second your eyes take in the guy’s entire story. He’s a horse dad. Driving his big, gas guzzling truck (with an even bigger horse trailer) back from a horse show with his wife and daughter.

You know you shouldn’t, and you feel bad about it, but you can’t help yourself from breaking into a knowing grin—someone’s got it worse than you!

You can feel the guy’s pain, because you used to be a horse dad. And as much as you complain about being a feis dad, you know that being a horse dad can be 1,000 times worse.

You think back to before your daughter started Irish Dance. She was no different than every other girl between the ages of 2 days to 116 years old—she was infatuated with horses.

“A pony!” she would cry every time she saw a horse. Or a cow. Or a dog. Or a brown car. Or anything that was larger than a quarter and smaller than a cruise ship. It was ponies and horses, 24/7, with no holidays off for good behavior.

She did that smile thing and before you could see your therapist, you bought a horse, truck and trailer, and gazzilions of dollars in equipment and show gear—all for a child who had just started using the “big girl’s” potty.

Remembering the two years of horse dad torment, you thank your lucky four-leaf clover that your daughter switched to Irish dance.

For all those feis dads out there thinking they’ve got it bad, here’s how it can be worse. Much worse.

Think the solo dress is expensive? That ain’t nothing compared to what you’re going to shell out to compete in the horse show circuit. Here’s a quick breakdown:

1. Horse. Yep, gotta have one (or two, possibly three and why not four?) of those. A cheap show horse will run you about ten grand. Middle of the road is twenty to forty thousand. And if you’re going to get something good, go ahead and start selling your internal organs now.
2. Truck and trailer. How the heck are you going to get to the horse show without a truck and trailer? Ride? Not hardly. An inexpensive two-horse trailer will set you back anywhere from $5K to $10K. Then, there are the nice ones which not only haul your horse, but will house all of your family as well. These “live-in” trailers can actually save you money since you can sleep right next to your beloved horse at the show (flies, horse poop, dirt and all), except you STILL have to pay for a stall for the horse since THEY aren’t allowed to stay in the trailer—only your poor soul. You don’t have to spend money for a hotel room. Yep, just in case you didn’t have enough of the horse during the day, you can sleep in the horse trailer right next to your best bud. Too bad these puppies cost more than you make in five years.
3. Tack. Saddle, bridle, bits, brushes, pads, fly masks, halters, combs, etc. All this little stuff can add up big time. For example, a nice saddle can cost you about as much as a solo dress and it can’t even be cut up and used for garage rags once your daughter is done with it.
4. Show clothes. These are about as gaudy as solo dresses and only slightly less expensive.
5. Food. It’s cheaper just to feed the horse dollar bills.
6. Vet bills. Enough said.
7. All of the concussions, broken arms, legs and ribs. And those are just your injuries from loading and unloading a thousand pound animal who doesn’t really want to go for a trailer ride.
8. Hauling all of this stuff. You think your daughter’s dress and make-up bags are bad? At least you don’t need an extra trailer to haul it.
9. Feis’ can be … well, I’ll just go ahead and say it … a little boring, at least for feis dads. But you ain’t seen true boredom until you’ve gone to a horse show. Imagine horses (sometimes with people on their backs) walking in a circle. Around and around and around and around and around and around and around. That’s what they do! Granted, sometimes they might do something exciting like change direction, or go from a walk to a trot, but that’s about it. What about the horse jumping shows, you ask? Aren’t they exciting? Nope. Just because people and horses get maimed on a regular basis, doesn’t make it exciting. It’s still just a horse and rider going fairly slowly around and around (maybe even over some jumps). Isn’t that like NASCAR, you ask? Nope. In NASCAR it’s a car and driver going around and around. What’s the difference, you ask? Didn’t you see the word car was italicized? And the cars all have these cool paint jobs (except Dale Jarrett’s UPS car) and they go really fast and make lots of cool noises like vroooom and there’s beer and it’s loud and there are cool cars.
10. Daily maintenance. Solo dresses are easy to take care of … at least compared to horses. There’s no need to actually feed your solo dress on a daily basis. If you want, you can zip it up in its dress bag and not pay any attention to it at all for six months. It won’t care. Try doing that with your horse. Not only will it be REALLY mad, it will be dead. So, you’ve got to feed and take care of your horse on a daily basis—or pay someone to do it for you. And when you go on vacation? A horse sitter is much harder to find than a dress sitter.
    
    So, the next time you’re on your way to a feis and feeling sorry for yourself, think about the guy pulling the horse trailer you’re passing on the interstate.
    
    Smile to yourself and repeat the following mantra three times:
    
    “It’s not so bad, I could be a horse dad.”
    
    I’m sure I’ve forgotten much more than I’ve listed above (my therapist says one day I’ll remember all those repressed memories—hopefully, I’ll be dead by then), I would love to hear from all those past and current feis dads (and moms) about their experiences and comparisons to Irish dancing.
    
    --feis dad
    

feis dad quiz!

Tired of being labeled an Irish Dance moron? It’s time to step up and show that your lack of enthusiasm for everything Irish doesn’t mean you don’t know the difference between a jig and a reel. Come on, every bass fisherman worth a hill of beans knows you hook the fish with a jig and then you use the reel to bring ‘em in (they have lakes in Ireland, right?).

So, take the feis dad quiz and show the IDMM the depth of your wisdom. I’ll post a new question about every week and post the previous question’s results and the correct answer.

Your family might be surprised how knowledgeable you really are … or maybe not. But they won’t know if you don’t take the quiz!

Remember, there is only one correct answer—the right one.

--feis dad

Budgeting for a solo dress

It is time.

The end is near.

Time to pay the piper.

The grim reaper is knocking on your door.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

What do all these clichés have in common?

They’ve all just popped into your head since your wife told you that it’s TIME TO BUY THE DREADED “SOLO DRESS” (not to be confused with the less expensive—but still outrageously expensive—class dress).

You push the thoughts of doom and world ending catastrophes aside and take a deep breath.

“No problem,” you say to yourself. “It’s just a dress.”

Two recommendations: One, stop talking to yourself. Two, get real—it’s not your typical off-the-shelf dress.

Your wife excitedly shows you a picture of the “beautiful” dress.

You scream.

It’s ten times more hideous than anything you’ve ever seen in Mervyns. Covered in gaudy sequins and neon colors, it’s so bright that it makes the Las Vegas strip look like a flashlight with half dead batteries.

How much could a dress like that cost? Fifty bucks. A hundred at most. Surely, no one would pay more than that.

Wrong answer! And wrong question.

The right answer is: You. Since you’re the sucker who is going to shell out more money than your daughter’s braces, a new minivan and America’s latest stealth fighter combined. All for a dress that your daughter might actually wear three times before she outgrows it.

And the right question? How can a dress cost $3000? Or, more appropriately, what bank am I going to rob to pay for the darn thing?

The answers?

I have no #&%$ing idea, and the bank at the corner of Main and Fifth looks like an easy hit to me.

I’m sorry, let me be serious for a moment.

Believe me, I’ve scoped it out. The guards do look sleepy and there’s an alley out back for your get-away car.

A bank job a little too drastic for you right now? Don’t worry, by the time your little beginner II dancer moves into prize winner, it won’t be. In the meantime, I’ve compiled a few suggestions to help you out. They may not keep you from serving some jail time, but given the number of feis’ in your future, that may not be a bad thing.

Feis dad suggestions on how to afford a solo dress:

1. Get a second job, re-mortgage the house, sell anything of value and take up singing for loose change at the entrances to subway stations.

There, that’s it.

Good luck.

No, I’m such a kidder. I do have some other ideas, but they aren’t as easy as those listed above.

2. Sell a body part. Everyone wants American made body parts. I hear kidneys are the rage in China nowadays. And you’ve got two. Do you really need a spare? You can also sell your liver, but this has a few drawbacks. One, if you’ve been a feis dad for a while, it’s probably not worth much due to the large amount of alcohol induced trauma, and two, you’ll die.

3. Buy used. Why buy a new dress for $3000, when you can pick up a used one for $2995? You can buy yourself a combo meal at McDonald’s with the five bucks you save. Savor it, it’ll be the last time you can afford to eat out at a “nice place” for a few years.

4. Make the dress yourself. Pick up some fabric on clearance and sew, sew, sew. It really doesn’t matter (at least to you) that you don’t actually know how to sew, you (being a typical feis dad) won’t be able to tell the difference from your horrific creation to one of those “beautiful” custom made dresses. The bad news is, your wife and daughter and every other female in the Irish Dance Mafia will now hate you and your life will be measured in minutes.

5. Shun the tradition. Refuse to waste your money on a solo dress. Make your daughter wear something a little more fashionable like … oh, I don’t know … a pair of grey sweats and a New England Patriots jersey. Be prepared for some push back if you go this route. Although you will be the hero of all the other feis dads out there, you will also be sleeping on the couch for the next century and your daughter will never send you a Father’s Day card again. Ever.

6. Time share a dress. If your dance academy is large, this may be a viable option. Try to get ten or more feis dads to “go in” on a solo dress, then everyone could share it during a feis. Yes, it may be a hassle to change out of the dress after every dance and it might stretch out the feis by another twenty plus hours, but the savings are worth it—at least to you. For one, you won’t be at the feis, remember? Two, although $300 is still a rip off, you can at least have enough money for food for the rest of the year. Oh, don’t worry too much about matching sizes, that’s what safety pins are for.

Okay, so now that feis dad’s given you some killer ideas on how to pay for that solo dress, what next?

Go out and buy it?

Ha! You should know me better than that by now.

Delay, delay, delay.

You can always hope that your daughter will lose interest in Irish Dance, or fall in love with horses instead. Okay, scratch that. The only thing worse than being a feis dad is being a horse dad.

--feis dad

How the heck did I get into this in the first place

So, you’ve taken the FDS test and you scored high … like 12 out of a possible 10. Contemplating this score, you’ve also discovered something else about yourself.

Mainly, that you can’t count. But we’ll let that slide because the inability to handle complex mathematical functions is a common symptom of FDS.

So, you’ve got FDS and got it bad.

Don’t panic. It’s not terminal. At least not in the classic sense (though after spending fourteen hours at the last feis, you had wished it was).

Now that you know you’ve contracted this vile disease, we need to answer the most important question of all.

No, it’s not how to get rid of FDS, because there is NO totally getting rid of it, unless you plan on moving someplace where there are no feis’—like on the dark side of Jupiter.

The real question we need to answer is “how the heck did I get myself into this in the first place?”

This is the critical question.

Why?

Because you NEVER want to make that mistake again!

Okay, to answer this question I’m going to take you back to the very beginning. Before feis’. Before the wigs. Before the dresses. Before the drinking … well, maybe not that far back.

Close your eyes. Think back … way back … think back to when your sweet little daughter asked you if she could take that “free” Irish Dance lesson.

You hesitated. Something just didn’t feel right.

Then your loving wife said, “what harm could it be to send her to one FREE dance class?”

You wanted to say no. You’re no idiot. You know NOTHING in life is ever really free.

This was it. The defining point in your life. The mother of all decisions. The battle of wills you’ve been training for all your life.

Then your daughter gave you that smile. You know the one. It could melt even an Exxon CEO’s ice-cold heart (though he still wouldn’t reduce gas prices).

Don’t feel bad. The battle was over before it really ever began. Daughters have that power over their father. It’s their secret weapon, with more destructive power than all the Back Street Boys albums put together.

With that one capitulating nod of your head you were absorbed into a society in which there is no escape. Think the mafia or … I hate to even say it … Amway… only even more difficult to get out of (by the way, I’ve got a great deal on laundry soap during the month of June—give me a call).

So that’s the story. You gave in. Your daughter took the class. Your wife met other mothers just like her and was sweet talked into the IDMM (Irish Dance Mother’s Mafia) fold. Ever see the movie The Firm? She really didn’t have a choice either.

She was hooked. And you were toast.

Feis dad toast.

So, what’s my point of all this? I’m not really sure (the inability to remember important details is a symptom of acute FDS—at least that’s the story I’m sticking with).

But, I do remember the bottom line.

It doesn’t really matter how you were tricked into becoming a feis dad. The reality is, if you’re reading this and nodding your head, you have FDS.

You don’t have to love it, but you do have to live with it.

Hint: It’s a medical fact drinking does help—ask any doctor whose daughter is involved in Irish Dance.

--feis dad

Stay tuned for the next post to learn the best ways to deal with FDS (including hangover remedies)