Dad Explains

Dad Memes By Popular Demand: Is This A Cat Or Sheep?

Fri, 06 Feb 2026 01:16:46 GMT

Let’s have some fun!

I’m on the bandwagon and presenting an eclectic mix of memes.

None of which I created.

All of which I may have giggled at or thought useful.

Dad themed only because I am a Dad.

Enjoy.

IF YOU LIKE ANY OF THESE, RESTACK (And steal them, of course. Like I said, these aren’t mine so… do the meme thing!)

Found value in these words? Want to dive deeper into the raw, unfiltered truths of life as seen through a father's eyes?

🌟 Join the "Dad Explains" family today! Don’t Forget to share!🌟

Subscribe for free to get full access to our heartfelt, gritty, and honest explorations of life's ups and downs. Every subscription, free or paid, is a cherished support in our journey. For those who choose to contribute, know that your paid subscriptions play a vital role in keeping the quality high, helping cover costs for essential tools like Adobe and other editing software.

But more than that, your support keeps the spirit of "Dad Explains" alive and thriving, ensuring that every story, every lesson, and every piece of dad wisdom reaches you in its most authentic and polished form.

Got questions or thoughts to share? Feel free to drop a comment below or send me an email at dad@dadexplains.life. Your insights, stories, and questions are what make this community a rich tapestry of shared experiences and wisdom. Let's keep the conversation going!

Subscribe today and be a part of a community where every voice matters, every story counts, and every fatherly piece of advice is a step towards understanding the complexities of life.

Got a question or message for "Hey Dad"? Submit it anonymously!

I understand the importance of privacy and want to make it easy for you to reach out. You can submit your questions or messages completely anonymously using this form. Just click the link below. I look forward to hearing from you!

Submit Your Anonymous Message Here

Leave a comment

Refer a friend

Share Dad Explains

Dad Memes By Popular Demand: Finally, Fart Free Water!

Fri, 09 Jan 2026 17:02:44 GMT

Let’s have some fun!

I’m on the bandwagon and presenting an eclectic mix of memes.

None of which I created.

All of which I may have giggled at or thought useful.

Dad themed only because I am a Dad.

Enjoy.

IF YOU LIKE ANY OF THESE, RESTACK (And steal them, of course. Like I said, these aren’t mine so… do the meme thing!)

Found value in these words? Want to dive deeper into the raw, unfiltered truths of life as seen through a father's eyes?

🌟 Join the "Dad Explains" family today! Don’t Forget to share!🌟

Subscribe today and be a part of a community where every voice matters, every story counts, and every fatherly piece of advice is a step towards understanding the complexities of life.

Got a question or message for "Hey Dad"? Submit it anonymously!

Submit Your Anonymous Message Here

Leave a comment

Refer a friend

Share Dad Explains

Absurdity Is The Rule

Thu, 08 Jan 2026 01:01:55 GMT

Basically, at the very bottom of life, which seduces us all, there is only absurdity, and more absurdity. And maybe that’s what gives us our joy for living, because the only thing that can defeat absurdity is lucidity.

Albert Camus

Bear with me on this one yall. I’m working through some thoughts on coping with and working against the absurdity that is life.

So this one may wander here and there but it will bring it back home in the end.

Probably.

*Proves - As in to provide proof of, demonstrate, test, or make visible.

Contrastical

What would contrast more with the absurd than the well presented and well maintained?

What is more visible than stark contrast?

The world is absurdity. Think Albert Camus, naturally. It makes no sense. The world, that is. It is, as he put it, the absurd condition.

Yet at the same time it makes perfect sense. Only when it does, it doesn’t. Or it doesn’t remain sensical. The world will dramatically diverge into the nonsensical the instant you see the order it has been keeping from you.

People suffer for no reason. People suffer for good reason. People who have good reason to suffer don’t suffer. People who have good reason not to suffer do.

Good things happen for no reason, bad things too. Life and the world seem awash with naught but chance. Our lives appear nothing but playthings for gods and their whimsy.

Though that is not how it is, it certainly appears that way.

It, of course, being life. Or is it the world? Or is it chance?

Who knows?

Lament not, dear children, as the absurdity is merely a diagnosis! Whim and whimsy it may appear and may be, but insurmountable and unimpeachable it is not.

Camus names it absurd; the hideous incongruity between the soul's hunger for meaning and the universe's silent indifference. He places us beside Sisyphus as heroic stoics molding suffering into meaning.

His boulder continues to be pushed despite knowing well it will roll back down and his torment shall continue because he is defiant. And I love it. I adore the way Camus portrays this defiance as the last honest act left

Do I buy into it wholly and completely? Well, no. But you’ll be hard pressed to find anything I do buy into completely.

Beyond what is known to me, that is. You, children, are bought into wholly. Fully.

It is not your path nor your mission to escape this absurdity. You will not escape it beyond becoming its victim. That is to say the only escape is death and death is unacceptable.

No, you’re called to more. You’re called to be the contrast. You’re called to be the shadow on the ridgeline others will look upon in both confusion and inspiration.

“Holy shit, yall, we can go that way?!”

Yes, you can. You can be the order in the chaos. Though what that means is largely up to you, though I can guide you towards that meaning if you need it. Though keep in mind when I say towards I mean only that. I can point you in a direction that appears to show order, your order, and shout encouragement as you move on.

But I cannot lead you to it. It is not mine and I do not have any coordinates for you.

Leave your pride and your vanity at the door. To be the contrast is to be seen and be seen in revelation. This requires embodiment and embodiment requires work.

To be fair, you can technically become the silhouette by posing dramatically in front of the setting sun. Technically. But that does nothing for anybody except look really really cool.

What should happen instead is work. You should work to understand those values that define you, work to keep those values, and work to ensure those values truly provide value.

That will require detachment from the herd. It will require isolation, which will require loneliness, which will require ridicule to be taken and shouldered with stoic resolve.

We don’t notice a shadow on a ridgeline when it’s in a crowd, after all.

Which means you’ll also be going where others fear to go. You’ll be going where you fear to go.

But enough with the idealistic shit. Here’s how to start.

When you accept that the universe will not reward you for being good nor punish you for being evil; when you accept it will not recognize your genius, and it will not explain itself; when you accept it owes you nothing. is precisely when your journey will begin.

Will you be rewarded for good? Perhaps, but that isn’t guaranteed. Will you be punished for evil? Perhaps in this life, but again it isn’t guaranteed in this world.

SHOULD you do good for goodness’ sakes? My Wonderful God Almighty yes you should. But you should do it because it is the thing to do. It should not be done for some universal karmic justice or whatever other e-cig or vape flavor name people use to try and incentivize goodness.

SHOULD you avoid evil deeds and lifestyles? Yes, you should. But again, not for some imminent cosmic realignment that will convene some celestial court to judge you. Because it’s good for you, those around you, and everyone else.

This absurdity you see in the world is the result of so GOT DANG MANY people living in it and all making choices. So many choices. Those choices lead to choices and those choices lead to more. A choice someone made 2000 years ago is affecting choices you’re making today.

So putting good in the world WILL POSITIVELY affect the world. Putting evil in the world will negatively affect it. But that’s due to the absurdity that is permanence, the inevitable marching of time, the inability to take back choices you’ve already made, and how we each affect each other whether we want to accept it or not.

Which is why, despite the absurdity of the world, we must not be so absurd.

Be silly. Be whimsical. Be a nut. That’s all fine.

But do not give into the absurdity of the world when it comes to accepting what is when it is not what should be. You can only immediately affect a tiny sliver of the world now, but your actions and your choices will reverberate through the world, through time, and through history whether you damn like it or not.

We mostly float in this absurdity pool seeing and feeling only little ripples, though we don’t really register them anymore. Nor do we register the ones we create. We only notice when the waves make us bob up and down or the big ones that threaten to flip us over in our little floaties.

You may end up making some of those, but it matters not. Those ripples add up. They still make moves over time.

But while everyone is floating and slowly being pushed towards more and more absurdity, you can choose to slowly but surely paddle yourself towards a better path.

You’ll still be pushing against those ripples. You’ll be swimming against a tide of people content to allow the currents to take them as they will. You’ll be berated and bullied and beaten.

But you’re tough. I know you are, you’re alive.

It’s tough being alive.

Action in the face of absurdity is what gives weight to being.

A goal will die in absurdity. The world will mock your calendar. But a principle is something resilient. Choose one. Perhaps: "I do not lie to myself." Or: "I will finish what I begin." Or: "I will move my body each morning, no matter the mood." Build from that.

Take “I do not lie to myself” and live by that. You will then need to learn to embrace the ridicule. The contrast draws attention. Some of it scornful. If you want to be seen, you must be willing to be misunderstood. Prepare for that.

Prepare to be laughed at, not taken seriously, dismissed. It is all part of the echo of absurdity trying to reassert itself. Your defiance must be calm with your answer being your quiet persistence.

You are already pushing something. Everyone is. But most don’t know what it is. What is the boulder you’re pushing uphill, over and over? What weight are you bearing that, absurd though it is, defines your ritual? Name it. And when you name it, you may learn to shape it or you may find it has shape already.

But really name it. Once you do so it becomes real, though it feels so already. It gains weight. Authority.

Finally, there will be actions you take that serve no market, no economy, no algorithm, no "utility" by conventional standards. Do them anyway. Write poems that make no money. Dance badly. Tend to a small plant. These things mock the absurd without needing to explain themselves.

Once you can live properly without feeling the need to tell everyone about how virtuous you are, you may be ready to be seen on that hilltop against the setting sun.

Just remember that if you keep going, and properly, that in time it will happen regardless. You will be seen, they will wonder what you’re doing, and you will make positive change.

You don’t have to try and force it. If you do, it won’t happen. It will be pushed back against.

Basically, be the example.

It’s as simple as that.

But remember, simple is not the same thing as easy.

Found value in these words? Want to dive deeper into the raw, unfiltered truths of life as seen through a father's eyes?

🌟 Join the "Dad Explains" family today! Don’t Forget to share!🌟

Subscribe today and be a part of a community where every voice matters, every story counts, and every fatherly piece of advice is a step towards understanding the complexities of life.

Got a question or message for "Hey Dad"? Submit it anonymously!

Submit Your Anonymous Message Here

Leave a comment

Refer a friend

Share Dad Explains

Don't You Trust Me?

Sat, 03 Jan 2026 16:22:42 GMT

It is better to suffer wrong than to do it, and happier to be sometimes cheated than not to trust.

Samuel Johnson

“I don’t understand. Don’t you trust me?”

My child, that’s a tough one. I certainly do and I absolutely do not. It’s so very situational, you have no idea.

Therefore I will attempt to help you understand. Additionally, it’s a good idea to remember that it isn’t always you who I do not trust. We’ll get there.

In The Beginning…

Back in the day when the journey to and from school resembled an M.C. Escher painting, I knew everything and my parents knew nothing. I knew they were being absurd when restricting me, warning me about trouble, and disliking my friends.

It seemed like they didn’t trust me to make the right decisions. As it turns out, and I’ve asked, that is the case for at least a few of them.

It also turns out they were right not to. I won’t get into every mistake or bad decision I made but suffice it to say if we were to measure (in time) the highlight reel of my life against the blooper reel we’d see how laughably small the highlight reel is.

I don’t believe that’s altogether uncommon. I’m sure there are many people like me out there. Hell, it’s likely most people.

However, it’s a mistake to measure those two reels. Instead we should go through them both and see how those bloopers led to those highlights. That’s how life works.

So yes, my parents were right not to trust I would make the correct decisions. I didn’t have the experience yet to make them. Life is complex.

Right, So Where Does That Leave Us?

That is all to say “trust” isn’t exactly the concept we’re working with here.

Believe me, I trust you. You’re a good kid. You’re all good kids. I got absurdly lucky.

I trust you’ll make the right decision when the time comes. I also trust you’ll make the decision you think is right but get it wrong. I trust you’ll make a decision you know isn’t what I would consider right but you want to do it anyway.

I trust that you’ll come to a decision point and not realize it’s a decision. It’ll appear to be one path and you won’t see that those don’t really exist. I trust that you’ll make a mistake and choose something wholly incompatible with how I’m attempting to raise you and not even realize you’re doing it.

I trust you’ll make another decision on that level of incompatibility and do it with complete understanding of what it is, what it means, and why I wouldn’t have chosen it for you just to go against me.

I also trust that you’ll see why I tend to advise against those things in time. I trust you’ll end up alright even with all the missteps, intentional self-destruction, naive wrong-choice making (putting trust in the malevolent), and everything else that comes with the choices I trust you to make.

Trust is complex.

What I wouldn’t trust is the idea that trust is cut and dry.

I do my best to assume the people who present me with black and white situations or accusations of trust are simply not thinking about it enough or are hyper focused on a single situation and not thinking clearly.

Unfortunately for you, my dear children, I only have enough grace to try and be judicious when others wrong me.

So when I see the rigid “Don’t you trust me” scenarios you all are given I see nothing but duplicity and malevolence.

And I rage. Though I don’t always show it, that shit drives me nuts.

Don’t even get me STARTED on Aladdin.

“Do yOu TrUSt mE?”

NO JASMINE! Don’t trust the random, just met street teen on a flimsy flying device with ZERO safety features. That’s like a motorcycle but more deadly. Just, no. I bet he’s going to offer you drugs or something. Heathen.

Segue

On that, the drugs…

Let’s say you’re a person, just as a mental exercise. And let’s say we know that people can become addicted to things. You know, like drugs. And let’s say, just for fun, drugs are bad, m’kay?

Now, let’s say you’re the child of another person. And let’s say that other person is me. You’re my child in this scenario, child. In this hypothetical, would it be responsible of me to allow you to go to a place I know has these mythical addictive drugs and there’s a chance you may have access to them, restricted or not?

Even if I say I trust you?

Before you answer, let’s go to the consequences of that foray into drug access.

Alright, so you, the person, who is a child of another person, me, were allowed to go. We’ve officially established the basis of the exercise.

We have:

Person 1 (child of another person) - You.

Person 2 (parent of the other person) - Me.

Event/Location (has drugs, may be accessible, legal or not)

Decision (Person 1 was allowed to go)

Scenario 1: You come home, nothing happened, no drugs touched or sampled. Good times had by all.

In this scenario I was totally right to use the trust argument. I’m such a great parent in trusting you would make the right decision. I am the greatest parent of all because I trusted you could resist the temptation of the drugs and the peers that may or may not have attempted peer to peer (p2p) pressuring that would push you to sample said drugs.

In this scenario I am presented with a “#1 Ambiguous Parental Designation” mug and/or tumbler for my distinguished parental/child trust application.

Scenario 2: You come home, drugs were tried and enjoyed, good times had by all.

I’m the shittiest parent in history. I have started my child’s descent into drug madness. I shouldn’t have trusted you. You weren’t ready for this. You made the wrong decision. Your life is ruined!

I get no prize.

So which scenario was I right to trust you to go and not do the drugs?

Or, say, have a sleepover at a friend’s house with the opposite sex in attendance?

Or take a road trip with friends your age? Or really anyone besides myself?

Trust Me

Trust, my dear, is certainly a cornerstone of decision-making. Yet, it is not the entire foundation. It is a meaningful ingredient, like flour in a cake, but you’d be mistaken to think it is the whole recipe.

Yes, I trust you, but I also know that trust cannot substitute for experience, wisdom, or foresight. Life is far too complex to be navigated on trust alone, especially when the stakes are high and the terrain is unfamiliar.

Trust doesn’t absolve me of my responsibility to protect, to guide, or to weigh the context (which go beyond your intentions). I must take into consideration the environment, the temptations, the unknowns, the everything that life, even mine, has shown me may present itself.

I do not doubt your heart, but I am acutely aware of the world and its capacity to ensnare even the best among us.

This is why we don’t send the uninitiated or the addict into the drug den and shrug whatever follows off as “Well, I trusted them.”

That’s not trust but gross negligence disguised as virtue. The real measure of trust is not in blind permission but in discerning when, where, and how it can be applied safely and meaningfully.

Sometimes the most loving form of trust is the kind that says, “Not yet.” Because trust without context is abandonment and shirking of responsibility. And you, my child, are not being abandoned. You are being held, watched over, and frustrated by a parent who trusts you to the extent I believe you should be trusted with your experiences and level of understanding.

Trust that I will make mistakes in this.

Trust that I love you enough to understand that as well.

And trust that I wrestle with these questions daily and it tears me up inside knowing what it does to you to feel as though you aren’t trusted.

Saying no to you is not a joy. It is not fun and it does not feel good.

But I trust that you will, in the end, be better for it.

Found value in these words? Want to dive deeper into the raw, unfiltered truths of life as seen through a father's eyes?

🌟 Join the "Dad Explains" family today! Don’t Forget to share!🌟

Subscribe today and be a part of a community where every voice matters, every story counts, and every fatherly piece of advice is a step towards understanding the complexities of life.

Got a question or message for "Hey Dad"? Submit it anonymously!

Submit Your Anonymous Message Here

Leave a comment

Refer a friend

Share Dad Explains

Dad Memes By Popular Demand: Let The Children Believe In Santa

Sun, 21 Dec 2025 11:36:15 GMT

Let’s have some fun!

I’m on the bandwagon and presenting an eclectic mix of memes.

None of which I created.

All of which I may have giggled at or thought useful.

Dad themed only because I am a Dad.

Enjoy.

IF YOU LIKE ANY OF THESE, RESTACK (And steal them, of course. Like I said, these aren’t mine so… do the meme thing!)

Found value in these words? Want to dive deeper into the raw, unfiltered truths of life as seen through a father's eyes?

🌟 Join the "Dad Explains" family today! Don’t Forget to share!🌟

Subscribe today and be a part of a community where every voice matters, every story counts, and every fatherly piece of advice is a step towards understanding the complexities of life.

Got a question or message for "Hey Dad"? Submit it anonymously!

Submit Your Anonymous Message Here

Leave a comment

Refer a friend

Share Dad Explains

Dad Memes By Popular Demand: You Can Kill The Man...

Fri, 12 Dec 2025 22:37:39 GMT

Let’s have some fun!

I’m on the bandwagon and presenting an eclectic mix of memes.

None of which I created.

All of which I may have giggled at or thought useful.

Dad themed only because I am a Dad.

Enjoy.

IF YOU LIKE ANY OF THESE, RESTACK (And steal them, of course. Like I said, these aren’t mine so… do the meme thing!)

Found value in these words? Want to dive deeper into the raw, unfiltered truths of life as seen through a father's eyes?

🌟 Join the "Dad Explains" family today! Don’t Forget to share!🌟

Subscribe today and be a part of a community where every voice matters, every story counts, and every fatherly piece of advice is a step towards understanding the complexities of life.

Got a question or message for "Hey Dad"? Submit it anonymously!

Submit Your Anonymous Message Here

Leave a comment

Refer a friend

Share Dad Explains

Dad Memes By Popular Demand: Going To Thanksgiving With Your Family Like

Thu, 27 Nov 2025 18:43:44 GMT

Let’s have some fun!

I’m on the bandwagon and presenting an eclectic mix of memes.

None of which I created.

All of which I may have giggled at or thought useful.

Dad themed only because I am a Dad.

Enjoy.

IF YOU LIKE ANY OF THESE, RESTACK (And steal them, of course. Like I said, these aren’t mine so… do the meme thing!)

Found value in these words? Want to dive deeper into the raw, unfiltered truths of life as seen through a father's eyes?

🌟 Join the "Dad Explains" family today! Don’t Forget to share!🌟

Subscribe today and be a part of a community where every voice matters, every story counts, and every fatherly piece of advice is a step towards understanding the complexities of life.

Got a question or message for "Hey Dad"? Submit it anonymously!

Submit Your Anonymous Message Here

Leave a comment

Refer a friend

Share Dad Explains

Dad Memes By Popular Demand: My Favorite Part Of Fall

Wed, 05 Nov 2025 21:11:24 GMT

Let’s have some fun!

I’m on the bandwagon and presenting an eclectic mix of memes.

None of which I created.

All of which I may have giggled at or thought useful.

Dad themed only because I am a Dad.

Enjoy.

IF YOU LIKE ANY OF THESE, RESTACK (And steal them, of course. Like I said, these aren’t mine so… do the meme thing!)

Found value in these words? Want to dive deeper into the raw, unfiltered truths of life as seen through a father's eyes?

🌟 Join the "Dad Explains" family today! Don’t Forget to share!🌟

Subscribe today and be a part of a community where every voice matters, every story counts, and every fatherly piece of advice is a step towards understanding the complexities of life.

Got a question or message for "Hey Dad"? Submit it anonymously!

Submit Your Anonymous Message Here

Leave a comment

Refer a friend

Share Dad Explains

Writing Drive Decay

Wed, 22 Oct 2025 20:21:59 GMT

Great effort is required to arrest decay and restore vigor. One must exercise proper deliberation, plan carefully before making a move, and be alert in guarding against relapse following a renaissance.

Horace

I’ve been through a lot in recent months. Though before I begin, do not pity me. This is no cry for help nor is it one for compassion or sympathy.

Rather, it is a warning to others and a first step out of the morass.

With that line I know it is coming. The redemption. I cannot help but see something in that line.

You know me as Dad and as such, I must point out that morass not only has ass in it, it SOUNDS like more-ass.

That is all.

Expression As Performance

As you may have noticed I have let many a folk down recently. Mostly I’m alluding to the lack of content that was subscribed to, that people subscribed for, and that was consistently given until a few months ago.

This is an exploration of that and the return of what was. Though that can never be, as what was cannot become what is. What will be, however, is a return to consistency. I would not want to go back to what was even had it been an option. What was led to what broke.

For me, my writing drive decays when the expression feels performative. I am not and have not been suffering from writers block. No, my friends, a filter has been installed.

My brain continues to turn and the gerbil powering it, though old, is steady churning at its wheel. While rusty and in need of lubrication, the gears rotate. Despite the accompanying squeaks—by both the gerbil and the lack of lubrication—the machine rumbles on.

Words that were once accepted by instinct now wait for approval. They lay stacked upon my inner bureaucrat’s desk awaiting justification. Awaiting the stamp signifying proper jurisdiction. Mistakes made have led to an overabundance of caution. For if I fail, what right have I to share what I know?

Or what I think I know?

Would that not then damn those that read and relate to the same fate as I?

And my bureaucrat is not unlike all the rest. He is at the desk, though has no reason and no motivation to get through those requests and those forms.

Thus, no movement forward.

So filter be damned, I must create momentum. An overabundance of order necessitates chaos.

Therefore what is written here stays written here. What is typed out must be published. We shall hurl that overcautious pendulum to its opposing side and hope it snaps off in the process.

Filters be damned. DESERVATION BE DAMNED.

I try to prepend my pieces to note that everything should be questioned. That I am writing from my own experiences and that these are not instructions to be followed to the letter. Do not be rigid with my rules.

I am not.

I know that I am a cretin. I know that I am a fool. I have been a fool, I will be again. I may not have cretinous qualities in everything, but I certainly have them in some.

I may not be a fool in all things, but I have the scars to show I have been.

And I am not delusional enough to believe I won’t be again.

The problem lies in being afraid of presenting the fool in this forum.

Yet, when has that stopped me before?

Until recently it hasn’t. I grew too weak for criticism. Though not really. I thought myself to have grown too weak for criticism. In reality I was kinda being a little bitch.

Excuse my change in tone there. The words would not come to me and I had to get it out.

So here we are. The decay arrested by lack of motion, not by lack of inspiration. Being inert must end so progress can begin. The muse is still with me, momentum is what’s required.

And this is the beginning of recovery. The words on the page.

If this piece limps, let it limp in public. If it falters, let if fall forward. The unforgiveable sin for me now is to never write again. So write I shall.

I’ll write badly, loudly, foolishly, until the gears grind smooth again and the rust is worn away.

And what they do it will not be because I found my voice but because I stopped waiting for my permission to use it.

Found value in these words? Want to dive deeper into the raw, unfiltered truths of life as seen through a father's eyes?

🌟 Join the "Dad Explains" family today! Don’t Forget to share!🌟

Subscribe today and be a part of a community where every voice matters, every story counts, and every fatherly piece of advice is a step towards understanding the complexities of life.

Got a question or message for "Hey Dad"? Submit it anonymously!

Submit Your Anonymous Message Here

Leave a comment

Refer a friend

Share Dad Explains

Dad's Learning Volume 29: Avoidance

Fri, 26 Sep 2025 21:32:30 GMT

When fear makes your choices for you, no security measures on earth will keep the things you dread from finding you. But if you can avoid avoidance - if you can choose to embrace experiences out of passion, enthusiasm, and a readiness to feel whatever arises - then nothing, nothing in all this dangerous world, can keep you from being safe.

Martha Beck

Weeks In The Making

It has been hard. That was a sentence that was meant to go on for a few more words. It was meant to say “to write”.

This has been up on my screen for over a week now and the above was all I had down. I’m unsure what exactly the issue is, only that it is winning.

Was winning.

Before I go any further I have a single sentence for you I hope you take to heart. I mean this:

I hope you heal from the things you don’t talk about.

What I’m coming to understand more and more is how impactful what we do not say is on our lives. Well, what I don’t say and the impact is has on my life. On the lives of those around me.

I say plenty, don’t get me wrong, but what I say out loud is nothing but the visible portion of the iceberg. Plenty goes unsaid.

I live in darkness so the light I can find I hold onto. I try to hold onto. Success here isn’t so much the possession of the light as it is what is done when the light is around.

I try my best to share that light. Specifically with the people I love and, to a lesser extent, with everyone else through writing. Though the writing has proven itself to be more of a memory of the light, as is the case with old glowsticks or forgotten about glow-in-the-dark stickers on the ceiling.

They’re good reminders of what was had but they don’t light the way unless used properly, in advance, and are well planned out. That faded glow can be quite useful in the pitch black to show you the general path if lined up along said path.

But avoidance. That’s the topic at hand and the source of my issues.

Avoidance is the refusal to crack those glowsticks at all. It’s holding back, a hoarding of energy, of words, of truth, because some part of you is convinced that breaking it open will hurt more than staying in the dark. It’s self-protection disguised as strategy.

Or rather, it’s self-destruction by overloaded potential energy disguised as self-protection disguised as strategy all wrapped up in self-deception easily identified if one would just look in a mirror.

What I’ve learned, with the sting of it still fresh , is that avoidance does not keep the darkness at bay. It feeds it. Slowly and silently. It’s the mold growing behind a wall you never inspect. By the time you finally look, it’s no longer a minor problem; it’s structural.

When I avoided conversations, when I avoided choices, when I avoided my own pain, i wasn’t doing nothing. I was building a scaffolding of silence. A labyrinth of delay. And that construction eventually became its own prison. It became a place where light could no longer reach easily, and where the echoes of my own unspoken thoughts grew louder than any truth I could muster.

It made truth feel distant. Unreachable. Impossible.

I learned that avoidance isn’t rest. It’s deferral. And deferral, when repeated, becomes debt. Emotional debt. Relational debt. Spiritual debt. You pay interest on it every day in anxiety, resentment, or shame.

I would say I wish someone had told me that earlier, but I’ve heard it many times. I was JUST about to write “I wish someone had told me earlier.” But that’s avoidance in and of itself. It’s blame shifting. I did this to myself. I knew the rules and I ignored them anyways.

Maybe the only way to truly know this is to live through it and to lose a few things in order to realize that avoidance isn’t neutral.

But there’s a strange mercy in all of this too. Because the moment you name what you’ve been avoiding, the moment you speak even a fraction of it aloud, it’s like cracking the glowstick. Yes, it snaps. Yes, it releases something. But then, for the first time in a long time, you have light again.

And maybe, just maybe, that light is enough to take one step forward.

I don’t think I understood what I was doing. I thought I was buying time. I thought I was being patient. I thought I was avoiding conflict, preserving peace, waiting for the “right” moment to say the thing, do the thing, be the man.

But that’s not what I was doing.

I was hiding.

I was hoping that if I didn’t speak the truth, the truth would change. I wanted time to fix it for me. I wanted time to make it all feel less sharp, less risky, less like it might blow everything up. I wanted to believe that if I just waited long enough, the hard thing would somehow become easy. Or maybe even unnecessary.

But time doesn’t do that. Silence doesn’t heal things. And fear doesn’t disappear just because you don't name it.

Avoidance became the fuse to the dynamite in my hands. Time became the initiate.

I avoided conversations I needed to have. I avoided showing people how much I was really hurting and how out of control I felt inside. How close I was, sometimes, to breaking under the weight of things I couldn’t even name.

I felt like I was marching towards my own death at times.

And you know what that avoidance gave me?

Distance. Disconnection. A slow erosion of trust. An erosion both in others, and in myself. The people I love most started to drift. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, I gave them nothing to hold onto. I wasn’t saying anything. I wasn’t showing up fully. I wasn’t letting them see me.

And worst of all, I started to believe I couldn’t be seen. That if they knew the full picture of how often I failed, how afraid I was, how much of my life was being propped up by duct tape and distraction they’d walk away. That they should.

That’s what avoidance does. It doesn’t just keep the world at bay. It keeps you from yourself.

Because when you look in the mirror and know… and I mean really know… that there are conversations you owe, decisions you’re dodging, responsibilities you’re abandoning… it breaks something. Slowly, subtly. It fractures your ability to see yourself as whole.

And that’s where I found myself.

Ashamed.
Lonely.
And more afraid of telling the truth than I was of living in a lie.

But I didn’t stay there.

The pain of avoidance finally outgrew the pain of confrontation.

And that's the trade. That’s always the trade.

There comes a point where the silence becomes unbearable. A point where your own excuses start to sound hollow, even to yourself. Where the cost of keeping everything inside is no longer emotional and rockets into the existential.

That’s when I started speaking. Not eloquently. Not confidently. Just honestly.

It took prodding on the part of the people I love to get it out of me. Don’t read this and think I resolved to become strong and just did the thing.

Nope. I had resolved to lose.

Which is dumb.

They are not. They knew something was up.

The first thing I said wasn’t profound. It was something like, “I’m sorry I didn’t say this sooner.”

And I wept when I was alone. I wept because I knew that the people I loved deserved better. That I deserved better.

And I wept because the words still came despite isolating myself yet again. Words they didn’t hear. Because the bridge, though cracked, hadn’t yet collapsed.

There’s still time, you know. For repair. For reconciliation. For realignment.

It starts small. You tell the truth a little more than you did yesterday.
You show your face, even the part you think makes you unlovable.
You stop waiting for the “right moment,” and you start making this moment the one where you step into the light, just far enough for someone else to see you.

Not the cleaned-up version.
Not the story you rehearsed in your head.

You.

And that is where avoidance begins to die.
Not in the clarity. Not in the perfect words.

But in the courage to let yourself be seen while you’re still broken.

That’s where healing starts.
And once it starts, even if it’s messy, even if it’s slow, you realize something that changes everything:

You weren’t protecting yourself by avoiding.
You were burying yourself.

But now, finally, you’re digging out.

Please understand that while I may have put “you” in statements above, I was talking to myself. Or, rather, I was talking to myself as well as anyone who may needs hear or read this.

So I’ll say again:

I hope you heal from the things you don’t talk about.

It’s a tough world already.

Talk to someone about it. They live in it, too.

Perhaps you’ll find you’re not alone in your secrets and your failings.

Hell, if nothing else, reach out to me. I will at least listen.

To end this, I want to apologize to . She had reached out to me with an offer of assistance and I allowed my descent into hopelessness to keep me from fulfilling my end.

That’s a very un-Dad-like thing to do.

Found value in these words? Want to dive deeper into the raw, unfiltered truths of life as seen through a father's eyes?

🌟 Join the "Dad Explains" family today! Don’t Forget to share!🌟

Subscribe today and be a part of a community where every voice matters, every story counts, and every fatherly piece of advice is a step towards understanding the complexities of life.

Got a question or message for "Hey Dad"? Submit it anonymously!

Submit Your Anonymous Message Here

Leave a comment

Refer a friend

Share Dad Explains

Dad Memes By Popular Demand: Quick Animal Fact #25

Tue, 09 Sep 2025 23:06:42 GMT

Let’s have some fun!

I’m on the bandwagon and presenting an eclectic mix of memes.

None of which I created.

All of which I may have giggled at or thought useful.

Dad themed only because I am a Dad.

Enjoy.

IF YOU LIKE ANY OF THESE, RESTACK (And steal them, of course. Like I said, these aren’t mine so… do the meme thing!)

Found value in these words? Want to dive deeper into the raw, unfiltered truths of life as seen through a father's eyes?

🌟 Join the "Dad Explains" family today! Don’t Forget to share!🌟

Subscribe today and be a part of a community where every voice matters, every story counts, and every fatherly piece of advice is a step towards understanding the complexities of life.

Got a question or message for "Hey Dad"? Submit it anonymously!

Submit Your Anonymous Message Here

Leave a comment

Refer a friend

Share Dad Explains

Words From My Grandfather Revisited

Andrew | Dad Explains — Fri, 15 Aug 2025 23:56:04 GMT

Words From My Grandfather

Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children.

Alex Haley

Original Piece February 16, 2023.

I kept this piece more or less intact given its contents. I did move a few things around that weren’t related to the actual subject such as the portion immediately below this one.

It’s interesting looking back at how I wrote.

I like it.

I chose this one to revisit because I took a trip today to see his wife and gather a few things to take to my mother. I’m using “his wife” due to privacy and whatnot. Sure, the info would be easy to find, but it’s not mine to give.

Anyways, the trip and the visit reminded me of this one.

Let’s get this part out of the way. Substack will prompt me to add a subscription button and they’re right, I should.

I feel as though it takes away a bit of the feeling the text is going for when it shows up in between paragraphs.

So I will add it underneath, then begin the piece.

There. Subscribe button successfully added. Let’s begin.

Questions Attempted

If you're lucky enough to still have grandparents, visit them, cherish them and celebrate them while you can.

Regina Brett

Silly me. I said the words out loud before going.

"He's going to be in bad shape."

I thought I believed them, but I didn't. I was shocked at this realization. Why would I say what I didn't believe? I guess there's more work to be done on that front. I want to be truthful, not just to myself, but to everyone.

But I wasn't. I didn't even know it. Perhaps I just underestimated the situation. That's a working theory, but I am unsure. So, I will go with worst case scenario. I tricked myself and ended up tricking the people I spoke to about it.

I said he just had a stroke. My grandfather. Pop-pop wasn't doing well, and he may not be mentally available. I said these things, but I was optimistic going in. That didn't last long.

I know I went in with youthful optimism. I have the evidence. An entire page of questions I wanted to ask him. I tried, even still. It didn't work out well for the questions themselves, but we still had conversation.

That conversation was excellent, much to my surprise.

When I walked in, he was with his physical therapist. He looked smaller than normal and unkempt. I cannot recall a time I have seen Pop-pop that way. Unkempt. Of course, I hadn't noticed him smaller. That happens when you're stuck in a hospital bed for a while. He was unshaven as well. Again, I am unable to recall an unshaven Pop-pop. All of that was jarring.

But I am a big boy, or so I tell my son. So, I sucked it up, pretended nothing was amiss, and made my usual jokes about everything. I got some chuckles and some smiles. His mouth, mostly agape at this stage, would tighten. The corners of his mouth then pulled into a smile, with a familiar effortlessness. That was nice. I hope I keep that in my memories for a while.

Notes Taken

I don't think there is ever a wrong time to sit down and listen to your grandparents' stories.

Rege-Jean Page

I went into the visit expecting to annotate his answers to my questions. I got one and I count that as a win. I just wanted his middle name. Reed. His grandmother's maiden name. Wonderful.

But that's all I got. I decided to take notes on our interactions anyways. At the beginning he knew who I was. I am confident about that. He asked if the last time I came to his house and removed those trees I got paid a fair price. We did our usual back and forth of arguing over paying me at all and he wanted us to do the arithmetic and walk through time spent working. Then he fell asleep in thought.

I assumed that was it for talking. I assumed the visit would end with him still asleep, but he woke up about an hour later. After another thirty or so minutes of watching the latter part of an episode of "Gunsmoke" and the beginning of an episode of "Andy Griffith" he started talking again. This time commenting on the show.

"I haven't seen her before."

He was referencing a character on "Andy Griffith". I hadn't either. I, of course, let him know.

After that, he began really chatting. It seemed to be about everything he had come to his mind. I loved it.

"Clemson... tried so hard to live up... this contributed to competing in war which saved their butts."

I couldn't follow that one, but I still wrote it down.

"We can go play baseball in the sand."

I nodded. That would be fun, so why not?

Then he started talking about my kids. About their interests. He recognized me still. Or he recognized me again, I'm not sure.

"Put the ball in his hand. Let him hold it. Have them try different sports and find their interests. Pair their personality with the activity and they won't mind working hard for it. They will discover their interests as they grow."

Holy crap, Pop-pop. What was that? It was clear and he appeared as fresh as ever. At least for that. I almost didn't get it down before it left my mind. Omitting this from my notes would have been a great tragedy of time. It would have been lost in the wind and I have thought about it since it was spoken. Wonderful advice.

"Do you know where my license is?"

I don't think so, Pop-pop.

"I've got to go pick up the booklet so I can get my license. I need to study for the test. Did you know they may not let me take it?"

Yes, Pop-pop. It's a travesty for sure. He was worried about taking his driver's test and getting the booklet needed to study, of course. But when? It seemed recent. He had alluded to breaking slower than he used to.

"Where did you look for that?"

I am confused again, but I just waited.

"It was a big thing a couple weeks ago. Did you see the new restaurant? It's a mix of three... Your kids would like it."

My heart swelled at each mention of my kids. I love this man. My grandfather. A wonderful human being.

He started feeling at his face. Running his fingers over his stubble as old men do.

"I bought a razor a while ago. A Norelco. It's in a box in the house, with more medicine than you've ever seen!"

A chuckle as he said that, his usual smile on his face.

"What good's a box in the house if you're not at the house with the box?"

The smile left. A look of consternation in its place.

"Play with your boy."

Yes sir.

"He needs it."

Yes sir.

"Read and learn what you can when you can. (In reference to my kids) Be on board with the answer when they need it."

Yes sir...

A pause in the conversation. My turn to ask questions. It was about any girl he may like. An attempt to gauge where he was at...

"I loved square dancing with all of them. Sandy. Dancing is good exercise and fun."

Sandy. Is he back there now?

"Well, that's my offer."

I'm in the dark on that one. I don't know what it was about.

"Kitty already knew how to square dance. She was good, even with the leg. Square dancing is good exercise."

I agreed with him, but the repetition made me wince. I hope he didn't notice.

"Hank Williams and dancing, you can't beat that."

I do like music, Pop-pop. That sounds great.

"Smyrna, Delaware. Right in the middle of the state."

I had asked recently where he lived. I guess that was coming up.

"We should do it. If they can do it with a restaurant..."

I like a good project, but I'm not sure what we're talking about now.

"Imagine what this group could build."

I am trying to. I asked who else was in the group.

"You contribute like everybody else."

Thank you. He was talking about an idea for games in the backyard. I got lost in the conversation. It brought back memories for me, and I forgot about my notetaking. We spoke on where he lived, in Atlanta, where he set up that putt putt course in the basement. And the games we used to play and the stations with one-on-one games or competitions we would all do. All the grandkids.

Good memories. Great ideas. We were planning new stations and a new back deck.

Kitty walked in. She asked what we were up to. He told her about our plans. I decided to bring up the parts of conversation she was mentioned in, the square dancing. She made the leg portion make sense. She had a hurt leg at the time.

I had to leave though. I needed to get some dinner for the family. Saying goodbye didn't feel right and didn't feel possible. I said it, but I don't know to whom or if it was to anyone. I didn't want to.

Before I left, he wanted to teach me square dance calls. He had Kitty stand in front of me and he made some calls. I didn't know them, so we just did the Do-Si-Do. Standard move.

I left with renewed optimism, despite the original optimism vanishing upon seeing him.

Perhaps not optimism about his condition, but optimism that the future will still be there and that he will always be a part of it.

Even in his own way.

Likely through games in the backyard.

Leave a comment

On Grief: It's A Bit Hard To Focus Revisited

Andrew | Dad Explains — Thu, 14 Aug 2025 23:24:01 GMT

The spoken word is man's physician in grief. For this alone has soothing charms for the soul.

Menander

Here’s Day Two of my Ten Days Of Writing. Lots of capitalized words there. My addition to this piece is at the end.

Original Post January 15, 2023.

It's A Bit Hard To Focus

I am troubled tonight. This morning? Both are accurate. From last night into this morning I am troubled. It is early, to be fair. More accurately, I am sad and do not want to do what must be done.

I keep distracting myself with menial activities. Meaningless activities, probably. Again, I am not sure. I just think I don't want to face the day. This day. Yeah, this day is a better way to put it.

I kept thinking and I kept hoping that Zelda would last the weekend. I kept thinking and hoping. Sentence structure is not important this morning it seems. Actually, I was hoping I was just wrong that the cancer came back in the way it did. I knew it came back. I wanted to be stupid or mistaken. I was hoping she had a quality of life at a level I could justify not having to end it. Justify it to myself and anyone who asked, I guess.

I’d rather be stupid than without Zelda. Why couldn’t it have been that?

She's just a dog, right? No, not at all. Let's be real in these writings, she's far more than that. Of course family. "When you're here, you're family." Right? She's an Olive Garden customer according to that measure of what makes family.

Odd reference, Andrew.

No, she's definitely family. But she's more than that. I cannot remember life without her. I cannot remember the feeling of living without her to be precise. I cannot recall what it is to go through my day, any day, and not see her, pet her, interact with her. To not fuss at her when she goes through the trash yet again only for her to ignore me. To not need to rub her floppy ears when she droopily waddles over to me when I enter the door. I just don't know what that is anymore. That absence of fussing. The absence of floppy ear rubs. Of pets for my pet.

So I am scared of what days are like when she is no longer around. I mean, she's just a dog and I am a dad. I should be able to face this with far less difficulty. Or so I had hoped. Or so I had heard. That is not the case.

I am fighting against myself in order to avoid recalling any pleasant memories. I know I'll break down. What the hell is this? I do not understand this level of grief over my puppy. She is a dog, what is going to happen when I deal with a tragedy in the family?

There it is. I will deal with it as I am dealing with her imminent final goodbye. I have my son on my lap as I write this, exhausted, not being able to sleep. He's trying to sleep right now, sweet boy. But I cannot help but cry silently giving the top of his head a long kiss. Sweet boy. He came out here after he woke up this morning and crawled right here in my lap. He doesn't really do this much. Oh, now he wants to use my keyboard. Silly boy.

He finally gave it back when I enticed him with a "lunch burger". It's a breakfast sandwich but I liked the way he described it so we kept the moniker. Thank you for that distraction my boy. I love you.

There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief.

Aeschylus

Back to my Zelda. That was the revelation. Not the boy thing, the revelation occurred to me but won’t be made clear until later in this paragraph. Sorry it was misleading. She isn't a part of the family, she is family. She is comfort. She is consistency and familiarity. I do not know what to expect when she is gone, but I know I won't adjust immediately. I have many reminders of pets long past.

So what makes her different? I may have it now, I may have put my finger on it. Though the words prior to this may think otherwise I have definitely figured it out, I'm sure of it!

It's gone, the thought. I don't know. I don't really cry often. I can tear up, I get goosebumps during sad songs. I love being able to feel music and art that way.

But I don't cry. Not really cry.

But I did last night. Hard. And plenty. Why is she so different than the rest?

Rest, that would be nice. I need some rest. But I need some clarity first.

She was with me in California. Those were some interesting times. Interesting? Maybe, but they were some pretty shitty times, tough ones too. But she was there with me, she asked me to rub her floppy ears when I entered the door each time. I had to fuss at her when she would go through the trash, and she had to ignore me as usual. Tail wagging, loud panting. That's the sound of Zelda.

She came with me when I drove back to South Carolina from California in a single drive. Well, almost anyways. She was with me during that short nap after Atlanta. I know, almost there, right? Oh, and she was there when the walls blew out of my tire on the interstate driving through Mississippi shortly after midnight. And when I had to drive to a shop behind a very poorly lit Wal-Mart on a severely underinflated donut after waking the owner up and asking him to come give me a new tire. Fun times. Very friendly guy too, and very helpful. Covers, right? I should stop judging.

Jasper was there too. He was a cat named after a football player. A pretty cool dude. The cat and the player. Jasper is gone now, though Zelda remains. For just a little bit longer. Perhaps they will meet again. They would cuddle a good amount after a while. Great pets to have, really.

Jasper saved our lives on that trip. I was in the zone driving and he started freaking out. It freaked me out a bit and I started braking. I have no idea how fast I was going prior but when the tire blew I saw 80 on the odometer. I can still see it. I thought we were going to die.

Spoiler, we didn't.

But if I hadn't hit the brakes already? Who knows. I hit them harder than I am comfortable admitting usually, though I am admitting it now. Considering it was at the behest of a cat it's odd putting down for people to read. I braked, hard, because my cat told me to. That's not a normal sentence and more unusual still when you realize I am being completely serious.

Why did I bring up Jasper? To distract myself. I think. While writing on him it hit me, Zelda saved my life too. What a pair. I don't know exactly when but it was in South Carolina, after Cali. One of those low times in life when you're just lonely. Zelda has always been fairly clingy and starved for attention. Even if you're giving her attention she is asking for it. That part of her saved me. She wouldn't leave me alone. It seemed at the time more urgent than before. More incessant? More zealous. Her dogged search and desire for attention (haha, puns) kept me from taking my life and leaving my daughter without a father. It's quite shitty to admit that a dog is the reason, not my child. But my child was not around. I was deep and didn't see anything around me. It was over in my mind.

But leave it to Zelda to need some damn pets (verb: the act of receiving petting, to receive a pet, to be pet).

Crazy dog.

My kids have woken up. I already fed the boy, of course. One of my daughters is on the couch, the other ran back upstairs. The oldest is probably still asleep in her new loft bed. It's blondie on the couch. Crazy girl.

I told her it hasn't been a great morning and I needed a minute to write this. That's some bullshit, a deflection. A deflection of responsibility because I'm SAD. Bullshit, Dad.

But I do love those kids. That dog. That cat. I love my wife. My family.

That's interesting. Going to love in my head as I write essentially a eulogy for my dog.

Perhaps that's it. I love my dog. I love Zelda and I think that's okay.

Yes, that is it. Any dissenting opinions? No? Okay yeah, that's it. Revelation.

She represented love when I felt I had none. She represented companionship when I felt I had none. She represented a continuation of life when I felt undeserving. She represented... No, she represents love and companionship and life. She represents, present tense, and will continue to represent unyielding gratitude for life and love and companionship. And pets. Both the noun and the verb. She loved her pets. I love my pets.

She just waddled up to me. She hasn't really been able to stand up by herself the last few days. What a good girl.

What a great teacher too. Perhaps gratitude is something I must practice often now. And consistently. I had been trying, maybe she's the last part of my lesson.

Bless her, she always saves me when I get too down.

I am thankful for my time with her. I am thankful she allowed me to share in her life. I am thankful to have been there for the majority of it. I am even thankful I get to be there for the end. I am thankful I get to hold her while she slips away from me. While she slips away. For the last time.

I am thankful for her being my reminder to be thankful. To have gratitude for what is. And for what was. I will retain this gratitude because Zelda helped me find it. It was a gift.

Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys.

Alphonse de Lamartine

And I am thankful she reminds me to focus on what’s important. My family and my loved ones. And that’s what I am going to do now. To go hold all my babies. They’re sad too, not just Dad. Dad is there to bring comfort and safety. I need to give them more comfort.

Thank you Zelda.

For Zelda I am thankful. For Zelda, I am thankful.

Love,

Dad

Two Years Later

She’s been gone for over two years now.

And yet somehow I still expect to hear the soft thump of her feet on the hardwood when I get up too quickly. Still glance down beside the bed, half expecting a warm, floppy-eared guardian snoring with her nose tucked under her paw. Grief doesn’t fade it just folds itself into the routine. Though it’s no longer sharp, no longer loud. But it’s still there. It’s a song I no longer remember but hum from time to time.

Sometimes, it hits me in odd ways. Like when I drop food on the floor and instinctively wait for her to clean it up. Or when the trash can is left out too long and I momentarily brace for the sound of her rummaging through it like the persistent trash bandit she always was. I used to fuss at her for it, and she used to ignore me like it was beneath her to even pretend she cared.

Classic Zelda.

I find myself telling stories about her to the kids and they listen and nod along. They know I like telling those stories and since it’s Zelda they don’t even make faces or whine at me. Which is nice.

I realize now that losing Zelda was also saying goodbye to a piece of my own story. A chapter that spanned cross-country drives, depression I didn’t want to admit, sleepless nights, early mornings, and the quiet spaces in between. She was a constant during a time when everything else shifted. A living timeline of my becoming.

I’m still becoming.

Some nights, when the kids are asleep and the house is finally quiet, I swear I can still feel her walking past my chair, tail wagging, checking in. Then I look down and it’s Melody, not Zelda. But I love my Melody, too.

Her love isn’t gone. Just redistributed. In my memories, in the way I show up for my kids, in the part of me that no longer fears softening.

She left behind both memories and capacity. For love. For presence. For gratitude. She reminded me what it looks like to just be there with no agenda, no expectation, nothing.

So here’s to you, Zelda. You’re still teaching me. Still saving me. And I still love you.

Grief is so human, and it hits everyone at one point or another, at least, in their lives. If you love, you will grieve, and that's just given.

Kay Redfield Jamison

Share Dad Explains

Subscribe now

Leave a comment

Dad's Rules Revisited

Andrew | Dad Explains — Wed, 13 Aug 2025 21:21:15 GMT

This is a message to my children I am hoping may be a helpful guide to anyone else who may need it. I am not overestimating the reach of this Substack but I do believe anything put out in a way anyone can access it has the chance to make some impact, whether it becomes realized or remains as potential in perpetuity. In any event, writing this down with the knowledge it CAN be seen by others helps me get my thoughts in order and values aligned, so thank you for being the potential that helps me be better for my children.

Credit: Mark Duffel @ Unsplash

It is far better to render Beings in your care competent than to protect them.

- Jordan B. Peterson

This is the original from November 9th, 2022 (2 likes, yall). I have been dealing with some things in my personal life. I lost my job and I’m attempting to save my house, in short.

Thusly, while I have felt the pull to write, I haven’t been able to drag myself to something I can use to do it.

Except that’s not completely true. I have been on my computer, but I haven’t been able to get myself to write.

Except that’s not completely true either. The idea that one “cannot make oneself” do “x task” is bunk. I didn’t make myself. I chose to do other things. I lied to myself about why at times. Other times I was completely cognizant of the avoidance taking place.

So what I am going to do now is promise TEN pieces in TEN days. This is day one and we’ll start with revisiting an old piece that I loved writing yet hated seeing published.

The original intent was a list of rules, though some other authors have done that already and been wildly successful.

I do love the idea, however. Rules are important anyways.

So today the idea is to revisit the piece, leave it mostly intact and just add on.

There will likely be some commentary littered in as well.

1. Do not lie to me

Past me was smart for this one. It still remains as rule numero uno.

It’s not a good idea. I will find out. It may not be right then, it may not be tomorrow, but it will come out. Keep in mind I make my decisions when it comes to my kids on the basis of teaching (where I can). This means I may know right away and allow you to think you got one over on me. I try to avoid doing this trick, and it is definitely a trick, but there are circumstances where I believe it’s necessary or would be more beneficial as a lesson later.

For example, if we’re rushing to get out the door because we’re late for one of your sibling’s doctors appointments I likely won’t have the time to get you to admit anything at that point. Make no mistake in this situation, however, I will circle back later.

Don’t inadvertently call me stupid. Hopefully I can make this argument intelligible (why lying is calling someone stupid). When you lie to someone, you’re basically saying “Either I am intelligent enough to fabricate a reality that you cannot see through.” or “You’re too dumb to see through this thin veil of manipulated truth. EVER.” Likely it’s both.

I know you’re just scared. It’s okay to be scared, but try taking responsibility or owning up to something you’re afraid of admitting. It won’t be as scary as you thought, though there will be consequences as with everything. I know how hard it is to take responsibility, so you can bet admitting something will be considered a mitigating factor with me. I am not in the business of punishing mistakes (unless you count my lectures as punishment, which is fair). Give me a chance to understand your situation and likely the encounter will end in nothing more than a chat.

There’s more to this issue of lying to me than what was originally conveyed. I’m sure my intent was to hit on the overarching points and circle back later, but my writing tends to have a more… doodley path than a circular one.

When you lie you warp your own perception of reality. When you lie, you must lie again to keep up the original. Over time this warps reality—your reality—beyond our ability to fix it with any safe corrective action. At some point you will fall. You will need to fall. The whole thing must come crashing down for correction to take place.

This doesn’t tend to happen voluntarily. It’s one of the many perils of lying in general. Having a warped reality means you cannot see what is actually around you. If you’re going through hell and you’ve told yourself and everyone around you it’s all sunshine and rainbows, you’ll start seeing sunshine and rainbows.

This means as you’re chasing the end of one rainbow, you’re going to end up falling off a cliff into the lava-fall you imagined was holding a pot of gold at the end.

1. Do not lie to yourself.

Don’t make excuses for poor decisions, take responsibility. If there’s an excuse for every bad outcome for every bad decision, those decisions will continue to be made. For instance, if you catch the house on fire because you put food in the microwave still wrapped in tin foil, take away the knowledge that tin foil doesn’t go into the microwave.

If you come up with an excuse like “It should have told me on the packaging that this tin foil doesn’t go in the microwave, this isn’t my fault” then the chances you’re going to set more fires due to not thinking or being careful are much higher than if you decide to be safe going forward and pay attention to what you put in.

You shouldn’t rely solely on immediately available warning signs to keep you from making poor decisions, you should rely on your current knowledge and common sense as well. Not every mistake made because consequences weren’t listed in a visible place or the warning signs were ignored are recoverable or potential learning experiences.

Grilling inside, for instance, isn’t something you can walk away from. Generally this is one mistake you can only make once. Be truthful to yourself so you can continue to accumulate knowledge and experiences that will help you avoid potentially disastrous mistakes in the future.

If you lie to yourself you also run the risk of continuing on a trajectory in life that is not meaningful and isn’t good for you. Keep your compass calibrated.

This one is insidious. It's harder to spot because you want to believe yourself. That makes it more dangerous than lying to others.

You’re poisoning your own food.

Let’s say you’re in a job you hate, but you keep telling yourself, “It’s not that bad,” or “Everyone feels like this.” That might feel like comfort, but it’s a slow death. You’re trading away your time (read:your life) under the illusion that you’re being practical or mature. But there’s nothing mature about selling your soul by installments.

Don’t get this confused with working to provide, either. If a family is to be supported, it must have a support. Work leads to reward, though the reward tends to vary. Work can be tending your land and livestock with the reward being shelter, food, and safety. It can also be data entry with the reward being money.

Either way you’re working for the end goal of supporting and providing. Even in a dead-end job there is meaning there. There is purpose. If necessary, hold onto that while you find out who you are and what you can do to provide and not risk being miserable.

But if you’re working only because you think you’re supposed to in a job that’s destroying you, don’t lie to yourself.

Back to self-poisoned entrees… The antidote is brutal honesty. You might hate where you're at, but at least say it out loud. “I hate this.” Say it, own it, then ask: “What can I do about it?” This begins agency and that’s what brutal honesty gets you.

When you lie to yourself, you build your life on sand. The moment life sends a wave, it all comes crashing down and you’re left wondering how it all fell apart so easily.

3. Your best effort is required for everything you set out to do.

This one likely needs to be broken down quite a bit more than this one simple statement, and it will be. For now I will attempt to explain it more succinctly than I would generally prefer. Nobody wants to read a novel when they’re expecting an essay.

The purpose of this rule seems obvious and probably is. Trying your best will get you better results in any task or challenge undertaken. Trying your best in your career will take you much further than if you had phoned it in instead because you didn’t want to give much effort. But why is it important to try your best at everything?

You are capable of far more than you currently realize. This statement will be true at every point in your life so save it and read it often. When you are 180 years old, after you discovered the secret to extending human life, after you had two concurrent and successful terms as president and an encore of your presidency was requested worldwide, after you solved world poverty and hunger simultaneously this statement will still be true.

During each step of your journey you could not have known you were capable of the next one. Do not prematurely end your journey due to half-assing something that you should have whole-assed. While I am around and able to be aware of what you are doing and the effort you are putting forth, I will be giving MY best effort to ensure you give YOURS.

I will be annoying at times and I will seem mean and harsh at others but you will understand when you have children of your own. When you see children out in the wild, let’s use Wal-Mart as an example, you just see a child. A boring, regular child that you’re likely inclined to avoid because they’re either snotty, gross, or have a high chance of being annoying.

It’s easy to think that having one of those goblins is undesirable when you are younger. Once you “accidentally” create one of your own that perspective changes drastically. You will see limitless potential in that snotty, gross, screechy and sometimes annoying perfect angel of a human burrito you hold in your arms (though at Wal-Mart they will look like a goblin to everyone else).

You will want to give them the best possible opportunity to see the potential you felt in them. You will understand the desire of the parent to sacrifice for the child. It may not make sense how I can be confident in this eventuality but I submit not everything has to make sense to be true.

Habits are formed and broken when you aren’t paying attention. This isn’t true all of the time, but it is the majority of the time. You can develop habits on purpose but of course that takes effort. Developing good habits by virtue of being responsible and doing things you know are good is a better way. We can call that developing good habits inadvertently.

If you consciously put forth your best effort in everything you do and you live your life according to the morals you subscribe to it will eventually become, oddly enough, effortless. This brings me to the final point (though no less significant than the others).

The most difficult part of doing your best isn’t the task itself or the effort put in, it’s the initial decision. Make the decision not to slack off and if you feel yourself slipping, make the decision to reorient yourself to putting forth your best.

If you hit a wall and can no longer put forth your best effort, take a break and continue on later. Do not confuse performance with effort. Performance will vary often depending on circumstances. Variables like muscle fatigue, eye strain, stress, health etc affect performance. Just make sure you are doing the best you can with what you have to work with.

Let’s add something here: your best effort today might look very different from your best effort last week.

Perfection is unattainable, progress is the point.

Maybe your best effort today means showing up when you really want to quit. Or maybe it’s holding back when you want to lash out. Sometimes your best effort isn’t visible to anyone but you. That doesn’t make it any less meaningful.

There will be days you fail. You’ll fall short of what you wanted to do or who you wanted to be. That’s not a reason to abandon the principle. It’s a reason to double down on it. When you fail, let that be your reminder to recommit, not retreat.

Trying your best isn’t always fun and it certainly isn’t always satisfying. Sometimes it’s fucking terrifying. When you’re in front of friends, let’s say, and you’re a teenager. Passion for anything is, as the kids these days say, “an exhibition of utmost social mortification.”

Now while you’re in front of your teenage friends as a teenage person there comes a time where you encounter something you enjoy. Let’s say dancing.

Except your peers are there and you cannot show joy for some reason. Only, your super old and totally cringe Dad has always told you to do you, to do what you do, what you are, and to not give in to those weird coming-of-age social woes. He also says, to your annoyance, to give your all in everything you do.

Just one time phoning it in wouldn’t be the end of the world, would it?

No, likely not. But if you give in now, kiddo, good luck not giving in the next time.

There’s a reason this is rule three. Not putting your all into what you do is quite similar to lying. It’s a slippery slope. If you give yourself an out now, you’ll do it later. Trust me.

Go take on that terrifying dragon called teenage social angst. Kick it in the ass while you dance your heart out. Hell, there are martial arts that mix dancing with beating the hell out of fools. I think it’s called Capoeira or something.

Not to be confused with capybara.

Though that would be ADORABLE.

Pic for reference:

These rules can seem daunting and it may seem like I am holding you to a much higher standard than is reasonable. That’s okay and I agree with you, it is unreasonable to expect anyone trying to figure out who they are and what they should be to adhere completely to hard and fast rules. I will continue to hold you accountable anyways. I expect mistakes and hope you will make them while you still live with me or at least while I can still keep you from crashing and burning completely. It is my hope that having made the mistakes while there is the “Daddy safety net” you won’t have to make them later. Life doesn’t have a safety net. I can only protect you from it for so long, so it’s up to me to decide what amount of falling is acceptable while I’m able to make that choice.

Let’s get one thing clear though, no matter how many times you break my rules I will always love you. You will push boundaries and that tells me you are making a move towards independence. No matter how many times you make mistakes I will always be proud of you. This tells me you are pushing yourself to the edge of your abilities. If you aren’t making mistakes you are either the perfect human being, which is boring and unlikely, or you aren’t putting forth the effort you know you should. In either case, whether it be breaking my rules or making mistakes, never ask me for forgiveness. There is nothing to forgive. You are learning and growing. You will never be less than perfection to me.

Dad Memes By Popular Demand: When An AntiLope Sees A Lope

Sun, 03 Aug 2025 19:48:17 GMT

Let’s have some fun!

I’m on the bandwagon and presenting an eclectic mix of memes.

None of which I created.

All of which I may have giggled at or thought useful.

Dad themed only because I am a Dad.

Enjoy.

IF YOU LIKE ANY OF THESE, RESTACK (And steal them, of course. Like I said, these aren’t mine so… do the meme thing!)

Found value in these words? Want to dive deeper into the raw, unfiltered truths of life as seen through a father's eyes?

🌟 Join the "Dad Explains" family today! Don’t Forget to share!🌟

Subscribe today and be a part of a community where every voice matters, every story counts, and every fatherly piece of advice is a step towards understanding the complexities of life.

Got a question or message for "Hey Dad"? Submit it anonymously!

Submit Your Anonymous Message Here

Leave a comment

Refer a friend

Share Dad Explains

Speaking Of Improvement

Tue, 15 Jul 2025 18:43:36 GMT

Bad human communication leaves us less room to grow.

Rowan Williams

Telecommunicating Ideas

Beep Boop, Server Room in The National Archives

Not long ago I was working for a national telecommunications company. We’ll call it National Telecommunications Company for now. On several occasions (per day) I was faced with situations and tasks I didn’t know how to accomplish. Yet, in the end, accomplish them I did.

Sure, part of HOW I was able to do that is due to me being awesome. I get that. But a far larger part of those successes came from talking to people which everyone can do.

Assuming they can talk. Perhaps we should use “communicate”.

We won’t, but if you’re unable to speak, substitute the word communicate.

Oftentimes as we’re going through our day-to-day we see and hear examples of humans who appear to have the ability to speak without thinking. Over time this leads us to believe the practice is normal in our species. In some places it can be, but believe it or not, speaking should be akin to thinking.

It should be used to think, so it should at least be adjacent.

How about this instead: Use speech as audible thought.

It IS possible. We CAN think BEFORE we speak. Can can even think AS we speak. See, even if we do think before we speak chances are we’re going to slip up and say something stupid anyways.

This is due to something I like to call “humanity”. We are imperfect, fallible, and a bit weird. We’re weirdos. In isolation we are some crazy people. For example, take the lone housecleaner attempting to remember everything she needs to do that day. She goes around cleaning all by her lonesome, occasionally reciting the mental list she made that morning. It’s audible, but only clear to her. If anyone was around, they’d only hear mumbling.

To herself, she’s completely sane. It makes sense. She made a plan, she made a list, she likely wrote it down somewhere. It got memorized and to make sure she isn’t forgetting a step she’s reciting it. A litany of sorts, perhaps.

However, imagine she isn’t alone, though she thinks she is. A kid decided to stay home that day and is now hiding from the deranged lady mumbling to herself as she meticulously gets the house in order. When the kid does hear her, it’s some sort of list and it’s the same thing over and over.

That example is only dealing with how we’re perceived. That’s not including how we delude ourselves into thinking our ideas, our UNVETTED ideas are GEMS.

Let me tell you another story. It’s fictional, but illustrative:

There’s a man named Elliot. He’s 29, recently read half of Nietzsche’s Thus Spoke Zarathustra and watched two YouTube documentaries on psychedelics and quantum physics. He’s unemployed (temporarily, he promises) and spends most of his days journaling about “the structure of the cosmos as it relates to the divine feminine.”

One evening, after a few bong hits and a stream-of-consciousness session with his fountain pen, Elliot has what he calls a breakthrough:

“Time…isn’t linear. It’s a spiral. But not just any spiral. It’s a womb spiral, and civilization is just a fetus stuck in labor.”

Now, that sounds profound to him. It’s emotionally resonant. He feels it in his chest. There’s power in that kind of insight. He thinks he’s onto something massive. He is onto something Terrence McKenna would have written a book about if he’d just lived a few more years.

So he goes to a philosophy Meetup group the next day, mostly retirees and grad students, and he says it out loud:

“I believe civilization is in the womb of a spiral. Time is a maternal vector. That’s why history repeats. We’re contracting, spiritually.”

Silence.

Then someone gently says, “Okay... but what does that mean? Can you give an example?” Elliot fumbles. He has no model. No clear definition of terms. No logical scaffolding. Just vibes.

Someone else asks, “How is that falsifiable?” He doesn’t know. He hadn’t thought that far. What follows is twenty minutes of verbal tap-dancing, some references to Carl Jung, a misused quote from Einstein, and a frustrated sigh as he mutters, “You guys just don’t get it.”

Alright, let’s pause here. Elliot does actually exist. The story doesn’t, but it also does. Weird. Maybe I should crowdsource a better way to say that portion.

Okay, Elliot as a person doesn’t exist. This scenario never took place.

Except the problem Elliot has does. Only it’s not HIS problem, it’s OUR problem. We’ve all been in a situation where we thought we knew something and didn’t. Be it like Elliot here and talking philosophy without having thought, a dude strolling into a fantasy football league meetup at a bar trying to talk stats, or anything in between. We’ve all been in over our heads and had our idea and our idea of what’s real completely demolished.

It’s frustrating and it’s awkward.

We fall in love with the way something feels in our minds before it’s been run through the harsh filter of reality. Or logic. Or someone else’s scrutiny.

Fresh ideas are newborns. They’re messy if you let them loose, they’re loud and obnoxious, and they’re functionally blind. They also have no object permanence. Don’t ask me how I know that.

They’re not fully formed nor do we know if they ever will be. You may need to throw one or two out every now and then.

The ideas, not the babies.

Most ideas are malformed. They’re abominations. They’re abhorrent or shallow enough to be dangerous. Most ideas are bad.

Let’s give that a line of its own.

MOST IDEAS ARE BAD.

Take that to the bank. Most ideas are bad. And it takes a lot of failure, testing, and humility to distinguish the wheat from the chaff.

The delusion is this:

We confuse novelty with truth. We confuse emotional resonance with intellectual validity. And most damning of all, we confuse the fact that we’ve had a thought with the assumption that it’s worth something.

But meaning comes from refinement. From turning chaos into order. Not from reveling in the chaos itself and calling it genius.

So when you speak your untested idea into the world, especially in front of people who know more than you, expect to look a little mad. Because you are. Temporarily. (No offense meant, but if taken, feel free to take another.)

That’s a required stage. A prerequisite stage, if you will. Only the fool becomes the master. As evident, the fool must precede the master. That does not mean go out and act a fool. It just means you will take lumps, you should practice listening and learning from those who know more than you, and stay humble.

You must be a fool before you become a master. That’s the price of progress. Only a narcissist stays a fool and calls it enlightenment.

Now That We’ve Got That Out Of The Way

Well that got out of hand. I meant to explore how we use communication with others as a tool to properly orient ourselves and those we’re collaborating with.

I guess, in preparing to put that idea out for public consumption and criticism, I realized that it may be necessary to lay out a few starting points so we’re all working from the same foundation.

Meaning, writing and exploring my thoughts WITH THE CONSCIOUS and INTENTIONAL PURPOSE of presenting to other fellow humans and human-adjacent beings has already given this idea more breadth, depth, and a bit of extra length.

That’s not something I did intentionally. You can validate how true that is by examining how unstructured the piece has been thus far. Yes, I’m examining this in real time as I write. That’s how it has always been excepting a few pieces and some poetry.

Upon having (read: borrowing from many thinkers before me) this idea, I wanted to test the validity. There are plenty of sources and sources used again (resources) I could reference for evidence. That’s true. However, I’m asking of you children to DO. I’m asking you to ACT.

So I wanted to act, too. I wanted to work through this myself. I tell you often you should write what you think. Don’t show anyone unless you want to, even if it’s bad. Even if YOU think it’s bad. If you want to then go ahead and show someone. I have sent MANY a terrible piece to friends of mine because I think they’re HILARIOUS.

Do I get audible groans I can hear all the way from New Zealand? ( )

Yes.

Will I do stuff like that again? And tag them in the piece?

Also yes.

The opinions of people are a mixed bag, naturally. Oftentimes they’re like armpits and assholes. Everyone has them and they all stink. However, I don’t like to use that comparison much.

Mostly because there are some people I enjoy getting opinions from. Which makes it weird.

Just know not every opinion is good or worthwhile. Some ain’t worth shit.

It’s difficult to discern which is good and which is bad at first. It gets easier with time and exposure, but it never gets easy. It cannot get easy as ease begets complacency. Once that sets in you’re screwed until you get rid of it. Sometimes those people whose opinions you value have garbage opinions. If they’re thoughtful or of the sort that values thought they realize this.

If they do not realize that sometimes their opinions are garbage, perhaps those are opinions you do not need. They are unlikely to be pondered on, considered, and well fleshed out.

Unless you enjoy them for their shallow and potentially humorous nature. I do have a few friends like that. I do value them.

I guess what I’m saying is this: realize your thoughts are important. They’re heavy, they have weight attached to them. Your thoughts shape your world, your reality, and your actions. If you cannot be consistent in understanding your thoughts should be weighed carefully, add some weight onto them yourself.

Either intentionally work through them with the understanding they will be put forth for review and scrutiny or work through them aloud. That will add some metaphysical weight. Even alone that adds a touch of REALITY. It helps, try it.

If you do this you will flesh your ideas out far more than if you’re keeping everything in your head. I’m sure there are exceptions, but I’ve never met them. You’re human, you have the dumb thoughts. We all do. Sharpen them up with a little tempering, a little iron-on-iron action.

Give them value.

Collaborative Sharpening - Cloud Version

Circling back to the original point in telling you about my telecom background, let’s run through some… background on the “cloud” or my “cloud” and then a hypothetical scenario that I found myself in many times during that portion of my career.

As I begin this next section, please imagine I am doing so while looking for my glasses and pipe using my cane to walk around. Also make sure to add in whatever olfactory or auditory remembrances you may desire for the authentic “back in my day” feel.

Back in MY day, or “the” day as we called it, the cloud was nothing but an image on a diagram. I can’t remember using the term much if at all, but we saw it plenty. It was known that whatever was in there we weren’t all that concerned about, we just needed to know what was touching the cloud on each side and who was providing an entrance and an exit to the cloud.

Wonderful Mock-Up Courtesy of the Wikimedia Commons

Sure, we would name our clouds, but who the heck knew what was in there?

Okay, we had an idea but mostly we trusted it to work and to be available. On occasion we’d have to dig into first and second hops to troubleshoot an issue or two but for the most part the nuts and bolts were a mystery.

Somewhat. In reality the cloud was just a bunch of networks like ours doing network shit like ours. That’s all. I’ve been out of the telecom game for a few years now and with the way technology advances I’m assuming this is all grossly outdated.

Anyways, there are clouds. You can see them above. Those clouds are third party infrastructure used to connect pieces of the network. Clouds represented the unknown, the unfinished, the theoretical, and the abstract. We used these for current network topologies as well as planning out new network topologies.

With the cloud representing the unknown, we would surround it with the known, the understood, or the currently implemented portions of our network.

If we had a location in South Carolina and a location in California and were tasked with creating a network topology or diagram and those networks hit a carrier anywhere in between (they always did) there would be a cloud.

Location - Wiring - Handoff - CLOUD EMOJIS FOR DAYS - Handoff - Wiring - Location

Basically that’s it. We didn’t always have that information, though mostly it was to avoid having to explain different parts of networks that weren’t ours to people who didn’t know how to interpret what they were seeing. It’s mystical, magical, wizardy shit. The internet works via magic, people. Duh.

Yet at times we would need to explore how to make the cloud. We could have all the end-points we wanted but if there wasn’t anything that actually made up the cloud there were no connections. It must exist. If it works, there is a path, infrastructure, and working configurations between point A and point B.

Every so often we would have network architects and engineers that worked well “alone” on getting things connected. There were freaks like that. Wonderful, wonderful freaks. I say it with love, honestly.

However, even “alone” they’re frequently on the phone or chatting over some messenger application with somebody else. Problems happen, oddities occur, turns must be made when we thought it was a straight shot. So “alone” is misleading. They “alone” saw the design from start to finish, yes. But they did not do every piece alone. Hell, we had to call central offices and COLOs to see if they actually had the space/wiring/equipment available or if it even existed. Records are useful but sometimes they’re wrong.

All the time. I meant all the time they were wrong. It was awful.

Aside from those absolute units of architects and engineers, there would normally be a collaborative effort. There is much utility in this as I hope to portray. Collaboration helps with far more than telecommunications planning and architecture, by the way. It is not my intent to school you on the intricacies of the field.

In fact, you can ignore the terminology and the order of operations here. They will not flow with the most up-to-date agile FIVE ESSSSSSS lean productivity and compliance certificate authorities. Instead they will be used to help you visualize the effect collaboration has on shaping out ideas that are worthwhile and dumping those that are not.

The Scenario

Ah, a simple and clear header. How agile is THAT?

In this exercise we’re going to be part of a team tasked with getting our newly acquired satellite office in Oceanside, California connected to our main office in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.

For you geography buffs both of those cities are on the coast.

They’re just not the same coast.

Personally I’d prefer to just wire them together with one big cable but that’s not feasible, the attenuation would be horrendous, and the cable would be heavy as a pause before going into the confessional the week after Mardi Gras.

Okay that was a bit much, but you get it. There must be some plan, some idea of what needs to happen before working to make it happen.

Now, our task is to find the best way to connect the location in South Carolina (point A) to the location in California (point B).

So we have an idea. That idea is point A and point B having a secure, stable connection on the same network so they can interact with the data locally stored in South Carolina as well as the data locally stored in California.

That’s basically the internet. Access to data.

However, this is an idea that hasn’t been thoroughly fleshed out. It’s there, it looks nice on the surface, but once put to scrutiny it’s a bit underwhelming if not downright cringe.

We could just get local internet providers to hook up both sites to the internet and try to connect all our internal systems to allow external traffic.

That would be a nightmare. Don’t do that.

In order for us to ensure we don’t make silly mistakes like that and for the company to ensure the same thing we collaborate.

What a silly little mockup I made. Point B is on the left because West is left. That’s why I included the compass rose reference icon widget. Whatever they call it now.

The Process

So we’re going coast to coast. Much to work through, for sure. However, we’re only hitting the general idea and applying that to how we work through ideas to make them worthwhile and to make them work.

Most ideas don’t work. This idea does not work right now. It’s just lines connecting the sites to a cloud icon.

So now we’re part of a team and we go into a meeting with everyone else.

We propose a point-to-point solution.

It’s cool. It’s clean. Perhaps we’re ahead of the curve for once.

But then Carl from infrastructure squints at the diagram like it owes him money and mutters something about distance limits, physics, and “bro, you ever heard of curvature of the Earth?”

True, true. That’s a fever dream. Even pseudo-p2p running over rings would likely be cost-prohibitive.

That idea, that iteration of the idea is set down. Not gracefully, but it’s down now. We’ll cry later.

Then Dana jumps in. She’s network security, and she proposes leveraging an MPLS connection with VRF segmentation.

MPLS. The wizard tunnel of enterprise networking. Private, fast, and cloaked in just enough mystery to keep it safe. And VRF? The digital velvet rope. Keeps our traffic all classy and separated.

Now we’re having a bit of an “American Psycho” moment, envious over an idea, not stock of paper. Let’s dial it back some, she might need this win.

But now logistics gets twitchy. Turns out we’d need to work with not one, not two, but four separate carriers. One for each coast, one for the mysterious dark fiber middle bits, and one that just sort of... appears whenever you say “cross-country low-latency SLA” three times fast.

So Dana’s plan? Technically viable. Beautiful on paper. Onboarding that many providers, though? Feasible but undesirable. Hell, it may not even be necessary.

Cue Alex. Our infosec wild card. Comes in hot with: “What if we tunnel everything through VPN over dedicated internet?”

Classic. We nod. We acknowledge the wisdom. And then we immediately start bickering about encryption overhead, routing convergence, throughput loss, IPsec key rollover schedules, and whether or not we trust AT&T with literally anything.

Spoilers: we don’t. I’ve even worked with employees (unioned) who don’t. The ones that weren’t unionized (not onionized) probably just didn’t want to say over the recorded line.

Alas, we move on, putting our collective heads together to figure this out. Each of us has likely done each and every step it takes to get this connected individually dozens of times over, so we know the ins and outs. We know the pitfalls and the workarounds.

But sometimes we as human beings cannot think of or remember everything, especially in a complex or complicated system.

Collaboration does not automatically imply a lack of knowledge, expertise, experience, or anything else. It’s simply a wonderful tool we SHOULD TAKE ADVANTAGE OF when working through something worthwhile.

What we’re doing here is what you do with any real idea. You toss it on the table, you let it get poked and prodded and interrogated like it’s hiding something. Then you dress it back up, see if it can walk again. If it can’t? That’s fine. Now you know what not to do.

Then we do it again.

So we don’t stop, we add.

Jules, who never talks unless it's important, says, “What about an aggregator? Someone who manages the relationship with all those carriers?”

We look at each other. That’s... not bad.

Could offload the chaos of multi-carrier integration. Could centralize support. Could keep our hands mostly clean while still getting the reliability and performance we need.

Downside? Less direct control.

Trade-offs, always. But now we’ve got a spread. We’ve got:

The Fever Dream Cable (RIP)
The Clean-but-Carrier-Cluttered MPLS w/VRF
The Cloaked (Daggerless) Tunnel VPN Method
The Outsourced Aggregator Handoff

That’s not bad at all. We began with a generalized idea. We started with what we wanted to see done.

One bad and three feasible ideas later and we’ve got the beginning of a fleshed out idea. Something that is implementable.

We arrived there because we were willing to put the ideas out there, to have them see the light of day and be judged on merit. Any thinking person understands not every idea can be great, not every idea can work, and not every idea even makes sense.

Pay attention to those that judge you based off a single comment, a single idea, or a single proposal. This is excepted if you’re selling something. You better get that one right.

But otherwise, pay attention. They’re likely ones to avoid or ones who are insecure. Hell, they may just not have the capacity to think. It happens.

Presentation, critique, rejection, and revision are how ideas evolve. They don’t just appear fully-formed in someone’s inbox. They get hammered out, reshaped, sometimes burned down entirely and rebuilt from scratch.

The talking, the drawing, the arguing, the laughing, the admitting “yeah, that was dumb” is how solutions are born. The scenario presented was about connecting two offices using nerdy lingo, but the process is the same when working through an idea or a problem of yours.

Iteration, preferably collaborative iteration is the way forward for most things. Ideas specifically.

Regarding connecting the sites? There’s more to be done, more iteration to happen. Now that there are ~~four~~ three ideas born from the first, it’s time to assign research (to get more info), get quotes (even more info), call providers (info, you say?), and get a good cry in by the servers. They’re loud and the door locks.

But we’re moving towards the goal of getting this idea fleshed out and implementable.

We’ve narrowed the cone, the goal is clearer.

I wonder how well we’ll see after the next meeting.

Found value in these words? Want to dive deeper into the raw, unfiltered truths of life as seen through a father's eyes?

🌟 Join the "Dad Explains" family today! Don’t Forget to share!🌟

Subscribe today and be a part of a community where every voice matters, every story counts, and every fatherly piece of advice is a step towards understanding the complexities of life.

Got a question or message for "Hey Dad"? Submit it anonymously!

Submit Your Anonymous Message Here

Leave a comment

Refer a friend

Share Dad Explains

Dad Memes By Popular Demand: Look, A Cowch

Tue, 08 Jul 2025 19:22:40 GMT

Let’s have some fun!

I’m on the bandwagon and presenting an eclectic mix of memes.

None of which I created.

All of which I may have giggled at or thought useful.

Dad themed only because I am a Dad.

Enjoy.

IF YOU LIKE ANY OF THESE, RESTACK (And steal them, of course. Like I said, these aren’t mine so… do the meme thing!)

Found value in these words? Want to dive deeper into the raw, unfiltered truths of life as seen through a father's eyes?

🌟 Join the "Dad Explains" family today! Don’t Forget to share!🌟

Subscribe today and be a part of a community where every voice matters, every story counts, and every fatherly piece of advice is a step towards understanding the complexities of life.