The World Premier of Baby Rogue

Ladies and Gentlemen, for the first time anywhere, I give you...

Baby Rogue.












The rumors some of you have been hearing are true. Mr. and Mrs. Rogue are about to have a little Rogue. I don't mean some sort of analogy or metaphor to describe a new idea of ours, I mean in a few months, Ella's going to give birth to a baby. Theoretically, one that belongs to the two of us.

How did this happen, you might ask?

Well, when a Mommy and Daddy love each other very very much, they ask God to send the stork with a little bundle of...

Oh, that's not what you meant by "How did this happen?" Ah hah.

We weren't trying. If you've followed my blogs for very long, you know that Ella and I weren't even sure that we wanted kids. We definitely didn't want any right away. But sometimes, Mother Nature (and faulty birth control pills) has a mind of her own.

The big surprise is how quickly this is all approaching. For the unfamiliar, the average pregnancy is considered "full term" between 37 and 40 weeks, Ella is in her 22nd week. How could we have kept the secret so long, you might be wondering. Well, it was pretty easy since we didn't know ourselves until just more than a week ago. All the "usual signs" that might tip you off that you "got a bun in the oven" had another explanation in our case. Couple that with the fact that we were not only not trying, but actively trying not to get pregnant and we just overlooked what, in retrospect, should have been obvious.

In fact, the only reason we know now is because within two or three days time, Ella had gone from slim and trim to the beginnings of a Buddha belly. Incidentally, at it's current rate of growth, Ella's belly will soon have its own gravitational pull. Since we first noticed (and found out about our bundle of joy) it has almost tripled in size. Whereas a week ago it was barely noticeable, today she looks like this:

So, here we are already halfway done with our first pregnancy. If they're all this easy, I might be able to talk Ella into a half dozen more. On the one hand, we wish that we had the normal amount of time to discuss baby names, plan the nursery, fight with the soon-to-be-grandparents over those aforementioned baby names, etc., but then again, finding out late in the game does have its advantages. For instance, most people wait several months before they know the sex of the baby. We knew within four days. If you're planning on sending gifts, make sure they are blue, 'cause Baby Rogue is a boy.

Another advantage to basically skipping the first half of gestation (I didn't really need to use that word, but I like it so much, I couldn't help myself. It's sad that's not a word we could use more often. Maybe we could use gestation as a slang term for something else, like "I'm tired of his attitude, he's always gestating, like he's better than me." Just a thought) is that we don't have to wait long to meet our little fella. Baby Rogue begins his own adventures (no word yet on whether he'll write about them or not) on or around January 24th of 2008. That's right. I'm officially just over four months away from being somebody's daddy. If that's not a sign of the Apocalypse, I'm not sure what is.

Mrs. Rogue and I are of course, excited, nervous, scared witless, and elated all at the same time. We've got a million things to do, and not a whole lot of time to do them in. The good news is that I now know my retirement is secure. With Ella's good looks, and my (not so) evil genius, it's likely that we are ushering in the next step in human evolution, so all of you should prepare to become obsolete. As the parents of Homo Superior, we will surely be revered and provided for. Fear not, those that lay down their weapons peacefully and surrender to their new leaders will be treated fairly. Resistance is futile, ladies and gentlemen, the Rogue's are taking over.

All About Babies...

**I would like to preface today's blog with the following advisory: Nothing you read below should be used in any way to extrapolate some idea about my (or Mrs. Rogue's) present situation or future goals. We are not pregnant and do not intend to get that way anytime soon. Thank you for your attention. We now return you to our regularly scheduled blog already in progress.**

I'm surrounded by babies.

It seems that literally everywhere I look there are small, round faces covered in some combination of spit and dried cereal paste just waiting for me to smile at them. No, I'm not talking about my volunteering at the Nursing home (nothing like a cheap old-person joke), I'm talking about the fact that everyone I know seems to have completely adorable (if not always totally sanitary) children. (Yes, I am aware that the preceding sentence is a gross exaggeration. Not all of my friends, and definitely not all of my readers have children. Please feel free to accept this as a response to your unsent and unnecessary rebuttal to my misleading and incorrect assertion found above.)

I'm crazy about kids (did the unsanitary comment earlier make you think otherwise?), and cannot wait to have some of my own (this is also patently false. I can, and will, wait). In the meantime I have a handful of loaners that I can borrow for an hour or two from time to time to get my fill of "peek-a-boo" and "this little piggy" (will that last little piggy ever learn life's cruel nature and toughen up?).

It occurred to me the other day (during an excursion northward to see Mama and Papa Rogue) that several of my Junior Fan Club Members are celebrating (or just did, or are about to) milestones and deserve some recognition. What better forum for such praise than this little corner of cyberspace where tens of people come everyday (or as often as I send them a MySpace message) to hear the latest from the desk of the Drunken Rogue?

Without further ado the Rogues (or more appropriately, Roguettes) of Tomorrow:

3. Little Ava celebrates first birthday, and the cementing of her hold over the people of Greater Baton Rouge. -- Ava Gardner was the perfect combination of class and beauty. She captivated movie-goers and A-List movie stars alike. To wear a name with that kind of history takes gumption, and Ava has plenty to spare (requests for Ava's excess gumption should be addressed to her parents). In between meetings with city leaders, Ava managed to squeeze in a small celebration with family and friends where she demolished a lovely birthday cake (I don't mean she ate it quickly, I mean she literally destroyed it. Next year, Mommy and Daddy will make sure to get chocolate). Happy Birthday Ava!

2. Baby Ella celebrates first year with coolest name ever. -- Mrs. Rogue, for those not in the know, has (in my humble opinion) one of the most perfect names ever, Ella. So when her best friend had her first child what other name could possibly do? Florida has gone so far as to implement a mandate that every strikingly beautiful girl baby born there must be named Ella. Cute little boys must accept the title of Ellic (which is as close as they could get it without sounding weird). Other states are expected to follow. Ella the Lesser (lesser here meaning smaller and younger, not in any way less cool) is currently in her studio deeply involved in her "blue phase" creating what many believe to be the pinnacle of the finger-paint medium. When asked for a reflection on her first year as an Ella, she responded, "Gooh guh ga, gaaah go gabble gow." Which, roughly translated means, "I simply stand on the shoulders of giants." Gubbaw ga google, gessl! (Translates to, "Happy Birthday, Ella!)

1. Niece Sara (or Princess Consuela Banana Hammock as Mrs. Rogue likes to call her) says Aunt Ella's name for the first time. -- While her verbal skills currently rank somewhere in the upper 15th percentile of this years College Freshmen, thus far Sara has decided to keep most of that Verbal brilliance bottled up. Not wasting time on sharing her thoughts with the rest of us, she is instead focusing on polishing her first rock opera (entitled, I believe, "Requiem for a Runny Nose") and finishing her soon to be published memoir, "Sara's Pain: The Teething Years". However, as busy as she is, Sara decided that an Aunt as cool as Mrs. Rogue had to be acknowledged as an equal and threw her a "shout-out" on the car ride home with Mommy. There is currently no word on her opinions of this blog. Say it with me now, Sara, Un-cle Ro-gue!

Tatt'ed Up

The Rogue, while being a wily and fun-loving fellow, is not without his own personal little flaws (shocking, I know). I like to spend money more than I care for making it, I am prone to bouts of laziness full of video games and movie fests rather than writing, and I'm deathly scared of needles. In all honesty it's not the needles that scare me so much as the pain that accompanies them. To be frank, I have an aversion to pain in general. So it was a little surprising for my nearest and dearest to hear several months ago that I intended on joining the tattooed masses.

I'm not prone to following the fashion trends of the day. I tend to wear the stuff that covers my butt and doesn't show off my gut to much and leave the rest of it in the closet. I've watched countless celebrities show off their new ink with little amusement. The fact that it's popular for our generation to get a tattoo had nothing to do with my interest. I was excited by the idea of personal branding (not the hot metal burning your skin type of branding, but the labeling so as to enable others to see what you are kind of branding). The idea that I could mark myself with a symbol of meaning to me for the rest of my life was very appealing.

But what symbol? What's good enough to wear forever? I thought about that a lot as Mrs. Rogue and I prepared for our European vacation. Richard and I discussed it over the phone and through email (he was having a similar search). We talked about the idea of getting our tattoos together as a remembrance of this journey (turned out we were too broke to do it then). We even toyed with the idea of getting identical tattoos (and may still someday) but couldn't come up with the perfect symbol for both of us. Eventually, I hit upon my perfect image, and Richard found his.

He has just shipped out for Iraq and wanted an image to mark that journey (and his eventual return home) so he chose this image:

The idea is that the day he gets back he'll have the date tattooed just below the bird. I think it's awesome (especially since Richard is head over heals for that traditional American tattoo style). It's perfect for him, but nowhere near what I was thinking for me.

I deliberated and pondered and then all of the sudden it came to me. I had always thought my first tattoo (possibly my only, depending on how bad the process hurt) should be a cross. There are few things in life (nothing really) that are as important to me or as deeply held as my faith, and while some consider it cliche, that image is one that has lasted more than 2,000 years (a lot longer than that in reality) for a very good reason. Saying you want a cross tattoo is like saying you want a Coke at a restaurant in the south. The next question you get asked is "What kind?" There are literally hundreds of variations on the cross symbol. The one that had special meaning for me (and coincidentally appealed to me aesthetically) was the Celtic or Gaelic Cross. A symbol of Ireland, this cross was one that we saw on dozens of graves during our trip to the Cliffs of Mohr.

But just a cross alone wasn't enough. I wanted an inscription, something poetic, with special meaning to me. This was what had hung me up for so long. But one night, two weeks or so before our vacation began, I just knew what my tattoo would be. Without further ado:

"Living is easy with eyes closed" is the first line from "Strawberry Fields Forever" by the Beatles. It's a lovely phrase that reminds me of the greatest band ever, but that's not the only reason I chose it.

It's also a fancy way of saying ignorance is bliss. That idea that people with intelligence are both blessed and cursed is one that I hold very dear. I believe wholeheartedly that life is easier for those that can coast through just worrying about the gas and the groceries. Those of us that see the big picture (notice I said us, since judging from your comments over the past year and half most of my readers are not simpletons) on the other hand, sometimes struggle with the big questions while still having to pay the bills. Not to get too geeky, but quoting Uncle Ben from Spider-man, "With great power comes great responsibility." I could have gotten that tattooed on my shoulder but I think my wife probably would have beaten me, or possibly left me.

Regardless of its meaning, for me or anyone else, it is now permanently on my left shoulder. The question is when am I gonna get a counterbalance for the right? While most people that knew me would have bet that I'd never have gone through with the first, the truth is, it didn't really hurt that bad. The actual tattooing wasn't pleasant, but it's by no means the worst sensation I've ever felt. I'm not sure about the design but I already have an idea about what's going on my right shoulder. To continue with the idea of personal branding, I'm thinking something along these lines:


Like I said the design around the word itself may change (the more complex the image, the more it's going to run together and look nasty when you get old), but the word itself and some semblance of its surroundings is probably going on.

Tell me what you think of mine, Richard's, my next one, tattoos in general. Do you have any? If so, what and where are they? It's interactivity time with the Drunken Rogue.

A Drunken Exploration of All Things Snooze

I publish this blog both on Blogger and at my digital domicile, MySpace. I know my inability to commit to one or the other frustrates some of you, but there's just too much Rogue to be held down by the bonds of digital monogamy.

That said, I have friends that refuse to give in to the allure of MySpace. They decry the (vast) number of fake profiles, or the cookie-cutter page layout. There are a million reasons not to be on MySpace, but last night I was reminded of a very good reason why I'm glad I am. A cousin of mine, whom I haven't seen in years, found my page while browsing one of our old friends sites. So now, however superficially, we are back in touch. In her first foray into MySpace blogging she opined about her adoration of the snooze button. So in honor of her, and MySpace's ability to bring families together, here's my take on man's greatest invention...you know, besides the internet.

The Snooze That Almost Was

It's a scientifically proven fact (not really, but we'll act like it is) that ill-begotten sleep, sleep stolen from your daily routine, is actually three times as effective in restoring the body and mind than regular night-time sleep. No matter whether you prefer the nine minute variety, the five minute variety, or the clock chooses randomly how much I snooze (alright Mr. Fancy Pants!) variety, those stolen moments generally are much more relaxing and important to us than the hours of sleep that preceded them. It was with this discovery in mind that Alexander Snooze made a suggestion to his friend and partner, Levi Hutchins.

Levi was a bit of a stuff-shirt, even for the late 1700s. At 26 years old, the clockmaker wasn't clubbing with his colonial buddies until the wee hours of the morning. No, Levi liked to be up early, slaving away before the sun came up at his job. The problem was that occasionally, Levi would miss his 4am wake-up call (you just can't trust those roosters to be punctual). So he set about building the world's first alarm clock. Once he had the idea to use a clock to set off a bell at a desired time the execution was actually fairly simple (for smart people, slackers like you and me...and Alexander Snooze for that matter probably never would have figured it out). The invention was a success. The neighbors didn't like it, but Levi figured they could bite ye olde big one.

Alexander was impressed with his buddy's invention, and encouraged him to sell copies (slackers are almost always business minded). Signore Snooze did have one recommendation though. Why not add the ability to delay the alarm once it actually went off? This way if you'd had one too many pints of mead the night before (or maybe had been to a bitchin' tea party) you could get those extra few winks you needed while not missing the days labors entirely.

Levi was shortsighted though. Not only did he not implement the brilliant "Snooze Feature" but he never even patented the idea for the alarm clock. He is now long dead and buried, remembered only as the imbecile that let one of largest theoretical payouts in human history go to some other dude. Alexander Snooze, on the other hand, not only lives on in the name of his greatest idea, but also became one of the most beloved, if wholly ineffectual, Senators in the early history of America. It seems the desire to sleep in, especially at the expense of your job, is a plus in politics.

Let this be a lesson to all of you. The Path of the Rogue doesn't always have to be drunken, but it does require an above average commitment to procrastination. Alexander Snooze, I and fellow Rogues everywhere salute you!

From the Vaults of the Drunken Rogue: The Rogue Goes on Forever

It's another Golden Oldie from the Vaults of the Drunken Rogue. As we look forward to 2007 and what it has in store for us, I'm taking a look back, at some excellent blog posts that some of you may have missed. In today's installment I bring you a look at the Rogue family tree as we examine...

The Rogue Goes on Forever: Drunken Rogues Through History

While I carry the Drunken Rogue name with pride, even occasionally referring to myself as "The Original Drunken Rogue," the Rogue has always been with us. From the moment the Sumerians invented beer, and then realized you could eat the by-product (they called it bread), there have always been those who had special powers. What powers you ask? (Or maybe you don't, but I'm telling you anyway)

1. The Power to Consume Liquor in Any Form -- While lesser men have a preference of beverages, "I'm a beer man." or "Only whiskey for me." or "Give me the fruity one, with the umbrella," the Rogue cares not what manner of delivery the alcohol chooses. Mixed, malted, or straight from the bottle it's all the same to the Rogue.

2. Powerful Charisma - This is what separates the Drunken Rogue from the town drunk (notice, there is no capitalization there). It's one thing to be a drunk, it's quite another to have a love for drink in addition to other great personality traits.

3. The Power of Flight - It's something I've kept secret, but now I feel it's important to reveal. You didn't know I could fly, did you? History tells you that Ben Franklin discovered electricity flying a kite, but NONSENSE! He was just plain flying. (I suppose this perceived power of flight might merely be a hallucination brought on by the alcohol, but nah. We can probably fly.)

Today we honor some of the greatest:

Drunken Rogues Through History

1. Noah - Yes, the one righteous man on the earth in his time, the man God chose to become the new father of the world, the guy who spent 120 years building an ark and collecting two of every animal (but curiously forgot the freakin' unicorn), also happened to be a Drunken Rogue. Shortly after surviving the flood, and being blessed by God with the first rainbow, Noah built himself a vineyard. He had a little too much wine in celebration and ended up falling down naked. Incidentally this whole escapade (and the subsequent cursing of his son, Ham, because he didn't help him) has been used for a few millennia to justify slavery. Oops. But you know, he got the ark right.

2. Benjamin Franklin - Other than the above mentioned anecdote of his flying discovery of electricity, we also have his drinking to thank for our independence. He and John Adams were getting loaded one night, and as he peeled the label on his current bottle of ale, he spotted the tax stamp. It sent him into a drunken rage, "To hell with Britain. Who are they to charge a half pence more for a pint of beer? Let's declare independence." That my friends was on July 2nd. One of the greatest quotes about our favorite barley beverage (and a personal motto of mine) comes from Ben, "Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy." ~ Benjamin Franklin

3. Winston Churchill - one of the most prodigious drinkers in history, and the reason the British don't currently speak German. Coincidence? I think not. I also think it worth pointing out that the second World War pitted a serious drinker (Churchill) against a serious teetotaler, or non-drinker (Hitler). Again, you see whose on the right side, here. Churchill's quotes about drinking are numerous and funny enough to deserve their own post (light bulb goes on), but here's one of my favorites, "My rule of life prescribed as an absolutely sacred rite smoking cigars and also the drinking of alcohol before, after and if need be during all meals and in the intervals between them." He also famously quipped, "(I've) taken more out of alcohol than alcohol has taken out of me," right on, Winston, right on.

4. W.C. Fields - Like Fatty Arbuckle before him (without the scandalous end of his career) W.C. Fields built a career and an empire on his drunkedness (yep, that's a word). It didn't hurt that he was terribly funny. My personal favorite Fields quote, "Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of snake bite, and furthermore, always carry a small snake." Advice to live your life by.

5. Frank Sinatra - While Humphrey Bogart had made the drinking lifestyle cool in the movies, Sinatra turned it into an art form. "I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day." ~ Frank Sinatra. His hard living, and carousing cost him several marriages, but it also brought him a smooth velvety voice and some of the best pals a guy could have, one of which even makes this list.

6. Dean Martin - Compared to Dino, Sinatra was an amateur drinker. While some critics have claimed that in his stage show, Martin drank apple juice and pretended it was liquor, this is nonsense. Dino would be ashamed. As Dean would often remark to his partners in crime, "You're not drunk, if you can lay on the floor without holding on." In Rio Bravo, one of John Wayne's greatest westerns, Martin played Dude, otherwise known as Borachan, or "drunk" in Spanish. Great character, great movie, great drunk.

So now you know some great examples of Drunken Rogue's through history, but who lines up on the other side of the fence? Let's see.

A List of Prominent Teetotalers

1. Heinrich Himmler - German Nazi, Head of the SS

2. Adolf Hitler - German Nazi Leader, one of the single largest murderers in the history of the human race.

3. Osama Bin Laden - Terrorist, figure head of al-Qaeda, bad dresser

4. Vladimir Putin - Current President of Russia, stealer of civil liberties

5. John Mayer - American Pop Singer, guilty of passing off rhythmic farts as music, false leader of young people

You don't want to be like those guys, do you? I didn't think so. For drinking lessons, or for more humorous alcohol quotes, meet me at the local bar, or any bar (if you're paying).

***Lawyer's Note*** The opinions expressed herein are solely those of the author and reflect neither the beliefs of Hookem, Catchem, and Skinem or Drunken Rogue Publishing. Any ill effects due to following the lifestyle prescribed herein (liver damage, traffic violations, falling on your face) are solely the responsibility of the guilty party. Drunken Rogue Publishing neither condones, nor appreciates excessive drinking. Please Drink Responsibly, and don't sue us...or him...on second thought, feel free to sue him... but not us.***End Lawyer's Note***