David Dubrow

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Coming Home: Two Stories

September 13, 2017 by David Dubrow 4 Comments

When we moved to Florida, my wife and son went first so I could pack up the house, take care of all the moving arrangements, oversee home repairs, deal with landscaping improvements, etc. They stayed with her parents while I remained in Colorado for a week and a half. My son was about 14 months old at the time, so he was still in his babyhood, moving to toddlerhood (which isn’t really a word). This is one of the reasons why parents refer to their young children’s ages in months: you expect different things from an 8-month-old than an 18-month-old. It makes more sense when it’s personally relevant, like so much else in parenting.

Boxes filled, movers tipped, and all other arrangements made, I drove our SUV to Florida from Colorado, which was rather a long, solitary trip. This took place during Tropical Storm Debbie, which lashed the southeast with torrential rain and wind. After the grueling drive, with an aching back and no sleep and the yearning for family that you experience when you’ve been away for too long, I got to my in-laws’ house very early in the morning. My wife had already left for work, so I went to the guest room where my son lay in his Pack-and-Play (his crib was still in a moving truck somewhere), and I was so happy to see him that I couldn’t speak.

My son, at the time, couldn’t have cared less. He wanted his toys, his breakfast, to be not picked up and cuddled by his father. He cried until I put him down. God, it hurt. I kind of expected it, because he was too young to be aware of the passage of time, but it hurt all the same. I missed him and he didn’t miss me. Some homecoming.

—

I think it was a year or so later when my wife and I went on a long vacation to some resort or other. (A long vacation by my definition is anything more than three days. Vacations always discomfit me, just a little. I know it’s weird.) We left our son with her parents and did the typical laze-around things one does at an all-inclusive resort: swam in the pool, ate a lot, drank a lot, hung out on the beach, read books, etc. When we got back to my in-laws’, it was around time to wake up our son from his afternoon nap. This is something I remember as clear as I can recall what I had for breakfast today: I went into the darkened bedroom, and there he was in the Pack-and-Play bed. Roused from sleep by the sound of the door opening, my son stood up, with his blond hair all tangled and his striped romper creased, and he saw me, and he smiled, and he said, simply, “Daddy.”

And the wound that he had unknowingly opened in me a year before was healed.

Parenthood is full of these injuries. Some of them heal, some just scab over. It may be that God intended for us to be younger when we’re parents, because it teaches us to be better children while our parents are still alive. I wish I had been a better son, and I try every day to be a good father.

—

A prior engagement, the details of which I will relate in a future post, kept me away from home when Hurricane Irma struck, and has stranded me for much longer than anyone would like. Pleasantly, my family and house are both in good shape, which is all I can ask for and more than I deserve. I’ll be home soon.

I can’t wait.

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Doings

August 10, 2016 by David Dubrow Leave a Comment

KindergartenBetween the end of my son’s preschool summer program and the beginning of the school year, I’ve been busy with family the last couple of weeks. He started kindergarten today, and we threw him into the deep end: a public school. I attended public school (several states north from here) myself, and it did no lasting damage to me, despite that I subsequently worked for the most dangerous publisher in America and now write about the bloody, horrible end of the world when I’m not reading horror books or watching bizarre films.

Hence the lighter posting of late. I’ll have something for you tomorrow, also somewhat back to school-themed.

 

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Scenes from a Vacation: Dinosaur World

July 13, 2016 by David Dubrow Leave a Comment

The school year in Florida starts in early August (!), so we squeezed in a couple of days of fun for our little boy before the summer ended. One of the places we went to was Dinosaur World.

IDW 7f you’re the least bit interested in dinosaurs, you must visit Dinosaur World at least once. This was our second visit, and while it’s not likely we’ll go back for another couple of years, it was still a lot of fun. Before you go, however, consider the following:

  • Burns and Bugs: Bring sunscreen and, if you’re going between the months of March and September, bug spray. Put them on before you get to the park. While there’s a great deal of shade from trees, you’re still going to be doing a lot of walking (I mean a lot), so you won’t regret protection from sunburn and bug bites. The Dinosaur World gift shop sells bracelets that apparently ward off mosquitoes and the like, but you can’t go wrong with a Deet-rich spray. Wouldn’t be a bad idea to wear a hat, too.
  • DW 5Hydrate: Bring lots of water, especially if you visit in the spring or summer. Despite the shade, the heat and humidity are oppressive in that part of Florida. We brought a backpack with bottles of ice water which helped a great deal because we perspired about as much as we drank. There are some soda machines scattered about the park if you can’t or won’t bring your own water.
  • Grub: Bring snacks and/or a lunch. There’s no food for sale at Dinosaur World. No hot dog stands, no snack bar, no restaurant. There is a Pringles machine outside of the gift shop, but that (probably) won’t keep you going through a day’s visit. (No, I’ve never seen a Pringles machine before or since.) If you do eat lunch at the park, watch out for the squirrels: they’re pretty aggressive, and some of them look like they have some kind of scabies-like affliction. It sounds funny to warn someone about squirrels, but do you want to get bit or scratched by a rabid-looking rodent with ratty little teeth? You can leave the park and come back later that day if you want to eat somewhere else.
  • Schedule Your Visit: Not everything starts at the same time. The park opens at 9:00 AM, but the fossil dig doesn’t open until 10:30 and the dino gem excavation doesn’t open until 11:00. Both are worth the money: at the fossil dig, you get a sifter and a tray, and you go to a sand trough that has fossils you dig for (you can keep three fossils). If you do the dino gem excavation, go for the emerald bag: it’s tremendous fun to pan for rocks and you end up with some very neat little stones like rose quartz and amethyst.
  • DW 6So What’s There, Anyway: The park itself has numerous life-sized statues of dinosaurs like Pachycephalosaurus and Tyrannosaurus Rex, to name just a few. Some are sculpted in little scenes, like smaller dinos feeding on a larger dinosaur, and other such things. You can pose with/touch very few of the dinosaur statues; most of them are behind ropes. There’s also a decent-sized playground, a few interactive exhibits, and a museum to cool off in.
  • Merch: If nothing else, go to the gift shop. It’s immense, and…just go.

Dinosaur World is one of those places you have to try hard to not have a good time in, particularly with a small child. Just be mindful of the heat, humidity, and hit to your wallet.

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"It began to drizzle rain and he turned on the windshield wipers; they made a great clatter like two idiots clapping in church." --Flannery O'Connor, Wise Blood

"Squop chicken? I never get enough to eat when I eat squop chicken. I told you that when we sat down. You gotta give me that. I told you when we sat down, I said frankly I said this is not my idea of a meal, squop chicken. I'm a big eater." --John O'Hara, BUtterfield 8

I saw the 1977 cartoon The Hobbit as a little boy, and it kindled a love of heroic fantasy that has never left me. Orson Bean's passing is terrible news. Rest in peace.

Obviously, these young people have been poorly served by their parents, but the honest search for practical information should be lauded, not contemned.

You shouldn't look at or use Twitter, and this story is another perfect example. There's so much that's wrong here that it would take a battalion of clergy, philosophers, and psychologists to fully map it out, let alone treat the issue.

This is the advertising copy for Ilana Glazer's stand-up comedy special The Planet Is Burning: "Ilana Glazer‘s debut standup special is trés lol, and turns out - she one funny b. Check out Ilana’s thoughts on partnership, being a successful stoner adult, Nazis, Diva Cups, and more. Hold on to your nuts cuz this hour proves how useless the patriarchy is. For Christ’s sake, The Planet Is Burning, and it’s time a short, queer, hairy New York Jew screams it in your face!" This is written to make you want to watch it.

In the midst of reading books about modern farming, the 6,000 year history of bread, and ancient grains, I found this just-published piece by farmer and scholar Victor Davis Hanson: Remembering the Farming Way.

"I then confront the decreasing power of the movement in order to demonstrate the need for increased theorizations of the reflexive capacities of institutionalized power structures to sustain oppositional education social movements." Yes. Of course.

You should definitely check out Atomickristin's sci-fi story Women in Fridges.

As it turns out, there may yet be some kind of personal cost for attempting to incite a social media mob into violence against a teenage boy you don't know, but decided to hate anyway because reasons.

One of the biggest problems with internet content is that the vast majority of sites don't pay their writers, and it shows in the lack of quality writing. It's hard to find decent writers, and harder to scrape up the cash to pay them. This piece is a shining example of the problem of free content: it's worth what you pay for.

If you're interested in understanding our current cultural insanity, the best primer available is Douglas Murray's The Madness of Crowds. Thoughtful, entertaining, and incisive.

More laws are dumb. More law enforcement is dumb. The only proper response to violence is overwhelming violence. End the assault. There's a rising anti-semitism problem in New York because Jews who act like victims are being victimized by predators. None of these attacks are random. Carry a weapon and practice deploying it under duress. Be alert and aware. I don't understand why the women Tiffany Harris attacked didn't flatten her face into the pavement, but once word gets around that the consequences of violence are grave, the violence will lessen.

When are you assholes going to understand that this stupidity doesn't work any longer? Nobody gives much of a damn if you think we're sexist because we don't want to see a movie you think we should see. It only makes us dislike you that much more, and you started out being an unlikable asshole. Find a new way to shame normal people.

The movie Terms of Endearment still holds up more than 35 years later, and if you're looking for a tearjerker, this is your jam. One element that didn't get a lot of mention is, at the end, when Flap, with a shrug, decides that his mother-in-law will become the mother of his children once Emma dies. He abandons them, and nothing is made of it. This always troubled me.

You need to read this story the next time you feel the urge to complain. And if you need a shot of admiration for another family's courage, check this out.

Progressive political activist and children's author J.K. Rowling finds herself on the wrong side of a mob she helped to create. The Woke Sandwich she's been trying to force-feed others since she earned enough f-you money doesn't taste as good as it looks when she's obliged to take a bite.

I need you to check out The Kohen Chronicles and pray for this family. Their 5-year-old son has cancer.

Currently, the movie Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker stands at 55% at Rotten Tomatoes. Don't forget that these are the same reviewers who not only adored the absolutely execrable The Last Jedi, but insisted that you were a MAGA hat-wearing incel white supremacist manbaby for not loving The Last Jedi. So either The Rise of Skywalker is an objectively bad film, or it simply wasn't woke enough to earn plaudits from our movie-reviewing moral and intellectual betters.

It's easy to hate the older pop bands like Genesis for their popularity, but they were capable of genius, and it shows in No Son of Mine.

If you want to know which identity group has more clout, read this story of the Zola ads on the Hallmark Channel.

Rest in peace, René Auberjonois. I remember you from Benson as a kid. As an adult, I remember you as Janos Audron in the Legacy of Kain video game series. You made every role you were in a classic.

Elf on a Shelf Follies, Part 2:
8-year-old: I wrote the elf a note! I hope he writes back.
Me: What did you write?
8yo: I asked if he has any friends.
Me: What if he says it's none of your business?
8yo: *eyes grow dark and glittering* Then I'll...touch him.
Me: Ah. Mutually assured destruction, then.

Elf on a Shelf Follies, Part 1: My 8-year-old got an Elf on the Shelf the other day. The book it came with tells a story in doggerel about this elf's purpose, which is to spy on the kid and report his doings to Santa Claus, who would then determine if the kid is worthy for Christmas presents this year. The book also said for the kid not to touch him, or the magic would fade, and for the family to give the elf a name. I wanted to name him Stasi. I was outvoted.

Actor Billy Dee Williams calls himself a man or a woman, depending on whim; his character Lando Calrissian is "pansexual," and his writer implies that he'd become intimate with anyone or anything, including, one presumes, a dog, a toaster, or a baby. J.J. Abrams is very concerned about LGBTQ representation in the Star Wars universe. This is Hollywood. This is Star Wars. This is what's important to the people in charge of your cinematic entertainment. Are you not entertained?

The funniest thing on the internet today is the number of people angry over an exercise bike commercial. Public outrage is always funny. Always.

One of the biggest mistakes the United States has ever made since WWII was recruiting for clandestine and federal law enforcement organizations at Ivy League schools. The best talent pools were/are available from local law enforcement and military veterans, with their maturity and, most importantly, field experience. We've been reaping the costs of these terrible decisions for decades, culminating in a hopelessly politicized, sub-competent FBI and CIA.

Watching Fauda seasons 1 and 2 again in preparation for season 3 to be broadcast, one hopes, in early 2020. Here's my back-of-the-matchbook review of season 2.

Every day I try to be grateful for what I have, even in the face of the petty frustrations and troubles that pockmark a day spent outside of one's living room, binge-watching Netflix. We live lives of ease in 21st century America, making it enormously difficult to do anything but take one's countless blessings for granted. Holidays like the just-passed Thanksgiving are helpful reminders. There's a reason why people call the attitude of a thankful heart practicing gratitude, not just feeling grateful. You have to practice it. You have to remind yourself of what you have. It's the work of a lifetime.

Held Back: A Recent Conversation.
8-year-old: Oh, and Jamie was there, too. He was in my first grade class two years ago.
Me: Wasn't he held back a year?
8yo: Yeah. It's because he kept going to the bathroom with the door open.
Me: No way!
8yo: And girls saw.
Me: That's not right. They're not going to hold a kid back a whole year over that.
8yo: Well, that's what he told me.
Me: Sounds fishy.
8yo: I believe him.
~fin~

It's right and good to push a raft of politically correct social justice policies on everything else under the sun, but when social justice invades Hollywood, that's just a bridge too far, says Terry Gilliam. Sorry, Terry: you helped make this sandwich. EAT IT.

Rob Henderson's piece on luxury beliefs will have you nodding your head over and over again...unless you subscribe to these luxury beliefs, in which case you'll get mad.

I've made the Saturday bread from Flour Water Salt Yeast so often that I've memorized the recipe. It never disappoints. Never. The same recipe works well for pizza, too.

Liberty doesn't mean the freedom to do anything you want. The true definition of liberty is the ability to choose the good. Anything less is libertinism.

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