Backseat Driver: Wit and Wisdom from Father to Son

By Jeff Mudd

"Never discuss politics with a girlfriend's dad. If necessary, mention that you're a convicted felon and thus not eligible to vote."

Such is the tongue-in-cheek advice handed down from father to son in "Backseat Driver: Wit and Wisdom from Father to Son." Written in a decidedly deadpan fashion, Mudd's humor book is a how-to (and how-to-not) guidebook that spans the many milestones and molehills of life from late grade school to early fatherhood.

Other witticisms include:

"The caterpillar growing between your eyes will not turn into a beautiful butterfly. Pluck that beast."

"Do not wear nugget jewelry. We have no Mafia ties."

"Getting your teeth cleaned can be pretty humbling. The best-case scenario is that you follow a hillbilly."

"Be a good speller. Smart people who are lousy spellers are often mistaken for dumb people."

"Let your wife arrange the furniture. Just go hand a tennis ball in the garage and stay out of the way."

"Never assume a woman is pregnant. She may just be pregnant with pizza."

"Never, ever shake your baby. To be safe, never stir him, either."

"Backseat Driver..." is perfect not only for fathers and sons but also for anyone who likes to laugh. The 205-page book also includes short stories/anecdotes that set the mood of each of the eight sections (grade school, middle school, high school, college, real world, marriage, pregnancy, fatherhood).

Hop into Backseat Driver and enjoy the ride!

Broken into eight sections preluded by a short story/anectode from the author's life, other witticisms include:

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeff Mudd
• Release date: Dec 29, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466186071

Jeff Mudd

Jeff Mudd lives in Austin (TX) with his wife Jennifer and their children McKenzie, McCoy and Mitchell. His hard-copy books can be purchased on amazon.com His humor books include "Backseat Driver: Wit and Wisdom from Father to Son," "My Name is Mudd: Facebook Posts and other (A)musings" and "Tumbleweed: Rites (and Wrongs) of Passage."

Book preview

BACKSEAT

DRIVER

Wit and Wisdom

from Father to Son

Jeff Mudd

Copyright 2011 Jeff Mudd

Published on Smashwords

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ISBN-13 – 978-1463789602

ISBN-10 – 1463789602

All rights reserved copyright Southpaw Books. First Printing: 2012. The editorial arrangement, analysis and professional commentary are subject to this copyright notice. No portion of this book may be copied, retransmitted, reposted, duplicated or otherwise used without the express written approval of the author, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

United States laws and regulations are public domain and not subject to copyright. Any unauthorized copying, reproduction, translation or distribution of any part of this material without permission by the author is prohibited and against the law.

Disclaimer and Terms of Use: Southpaw Books assumes no liability and responsibility for damage or injury to you, other persons or property arising from any use of any product, information, idea or instruction contained in the content or services provided to you through this book. Reliance upon information contained in this material is solely at the reader’s own risk. The author has no financial interest in or receives no compensation from manufacturers of products or websites mentioned in this book.

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BACKSEAT

DRIVER

Wit and Wisdom

from Father to Son

Jeff Mudd

For my sons, McCoy and Mitchell.

And for the kid in all of us.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

FOREWARD

GRADE SCHOOL

MIDDLE SCHOOL

HIGH SCHOOL

ON DRIVING

COLLEGE

REAL WORLD

MARRIAGE

PREGNANCY

FATHERHOOD

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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FOREWARD

My three brothers and I had a great dad. He was kind and funny and fair and generous and present and all the things a kid could wish for in a dad. He passed away four years ago.

I miss him.

We miss him.

He was not one for rousing pep talks, our pop. Before any of my three brothers or I had a game or a test, he would simply say, Do your best. I’ll say a prayer for you. For the most part, he let us carve our own paths and chase our own dreams. His actions always spoke louder than his words. To learn the secrets to success and happiness, we needed only to watch the way he loved our mom, Phyllis, and his family and friends. It is said that all that a man really has is what he leaves behind, and Joe Boy left behind plenty.

Now, the words of my dad were always well-heeded. And it was absolutely solid advice – Do your best. – with a spirited kicker – I’ll say a prayer for you. But from a literary standpoint, they would make for one flimsy book.

Someday, I will say those same words to my own sons – McCoy (5) and Mitchell (8 months). And also to my daughter, McKenzie (10). Someday, my wife Jennifer and I will nudge them off into the Great Unknown and leave them to find their own way. We will hope for the best. We will say a prayer.

But I am a worrier. I am. Life can be brutal. It can. A guy could always use some helpful advice here or a fair warning there. An encouraging pat on the back or a swift kick in the butt. Do your best leaves much to chance, and, frankly, I don’t much trust the pull of my own prayers. So just to be sure, I decided to write them a book.

More pointedly, the following pages are for McCoy and Mitchell. For my boys, my buds. I realize that times will have changed drastically by the time they read this. By the time they can read. Like their old man, this advice could seem outdated or square. Much may be ignored or discarded or seem irrelevant. And, of course, a great deal of the information that follows is purely speculative. Because of their tender ages, I am today only absolutely certain that McCoy has a beautiful mess of blonde hair and likes fire trucks and that little Mitchie owns a quick smile and a general distaste for split peas. I can only assume that they will follow a somewhat similar and conventional path as my own (mullet not included). School, bachelorhood, marriage, babies. Much will be left out, washed away by the years and my failing memory. Some things were purposely omitted. Many of the greatest pleasures in life, after all, are things that catch us out of nowhere.

But there will always be certain hallmarks in most every boy’s life. The same firsts and shared milestones. There will always be first dates. And first friends and first fights and first loves and first jobs and first mortgages and, perhaps, first babies. I suppose this is my way of preparing them for some of it. For the wonders and the wanderings of young adulthood. For the rewards and the rigors of school. For the freedoms and the frustrations of college. For the promise and the pitfalls of the real world. For the gift of a wife and the perseverance of a pregnancy and the miracle of fatherhood. And, to the best of ability, from what I have gathered, for the mystery of the Female Species. Sure, I could be accused of micromanaging here, or jumping the gun by a decade or two, but these are my sons, my flesh and blood. The more they know, and the faster they find out, and the better they get it all down, the sooner they will be off our payroll.

Besides, I do not hunt or fish. My chief hobbies at present include filling (and refilling) sippy cups and playing Tickle Monster. I have few keepsakes to offer - no war tales or secret fishing holes or even an old BB gun from Pappy. I am an expert at very little. I am a writer. I have words. So if I am going to leave something behind, I figured it may as well be a recording of my reckonings. And if I am to try and make a difference in someone’s life, it may as well be for someone who makes a difference in my own.

As for McKenzie, there are many matters that I simply cannot offer her counsel on. To attempt to do so would only make matters worse for her or divulge valuable secrets of the Male Order. I have spent my days on the other side of the fence. Behind enemy lines. She is 10, and I am already a little lost and a bit scared and a shade nauseous. This is why she has a mother – to handle the makeup and the breakups. The girl stuff. I love her dearly, my little girl, my only daughter, but I cannot really help her.

Included in this book are hurdles that I can recall facing (and sometimes tripping over) during my transition from a young student to a young father. From a young punk to an old pop. The timeline/chapter sequence runs from late grade school into early fatherhood. Essentially, from learning to read through no longer having any time to read. I will not specify on the moments that I got right and the ones that I jacked up completely. To be sure, featured are things that I remember with fondness and memories that I would just as soon forget. My life has not likely been much better or worse or different than yours. Just a life, one marked with the same rites (and wrongs) of passage as the next guy. I stumbled through school and rumbled through early adulthood and lucked into a marriage and a family. I have lost loves and misplaced priorities and learned from both trials and triumphs. I have made some people laugh and others think and still others cry. I am just me, the Average American Male.

I also included some personal anecdotes that preface each section. Some are funny; others maybe a little sad or just nostalgic. All are true and, I suppose, helped shape my own experiences during that particular period. In each case, though, I tried to be as honest as possible. After all, if a writer isn’t honest, he is not really a writer at all; he is simply a typist.

Finally, peppered throughout are General Life Rules that are applicable at most any stage of life. (Even for girls). Look people in the eye. Don’t wear mesh. Never talk politics with a girlfriend’s dad. Don’t be a Stinky Person. That kind of stuff. I am aware that many of these rules lean on simple common sense; I am also aware that simple common sense is not always the sturdiest of attributes in a young man. I do not recall having a great deal of the stuff, and thus I learned some of these rules the hard way. In this respect, I suppose I am a Guinea Pig turned Guide Dog.

I must stress this point. The following should not be mistaken as my advice to all sons but instead only to my own. I would never attempt to take the place of another father. Frankly, I am exhausted already. But boys are boys are boys. We sometimes make messes, both on our faces and in life. We play hard. We fall down. Eventually, we usually fall in line. We are always thankful to not need blush. We are different, but we are the same. We are brothers. I hope this book reaches others of the Male Order, both fathers and sons alike. Besides, if my own boys were the only ones to ever read this, it would make for one flimsy audience.

By the way, it is here that I should probably note that I am dry and cynical and irreverent. I often use sharp sarcasm to make my point. Sometimes I am serious, but often I kid. As such, much herein is for entertainment purposes only. I do not aspire to be Dr. Phil; instead, I would much rather be Dr. Phil Good. But there is usually some truth in jest, and there can be jest in truth. And sometimes, as Bob Dylan once wrote, life is but a joke.

I did not feel a great sense of urgency to write this would-be guidebook, incidentally. I am still not certain why I did. I hope to be available for and included in many of the moments contained herein. I plan to always be here for them. But I have always been a bit apocalyptic. An anvil or an aneurysm will certainly finish me at any moment, I have always assumed. I made out my Bucket List when I was seven years old. It also could be that I am suffering from early-stage dementia or plunging into a mid-life crisis. Certainly, there is a distinct possibility that I simply need to buy a sports car, which could one day serve as a crappy hand-me-down to my kid.

By definition, a backseat driver is any person who tries to intervene in the direction or conduct of affairs that are not his proper concern or responsibility. That is not really me. I don’t intend to intervene. These are just (somewhat) educated guesses based on one man’s travels. I don’t presume to know the perfect path or to have all the answers, and, like my own father, I will one day let my sons find their own way. I simply want to point the boys in the right general direction. And if I say that the best way to get there is by taking a left on Fourth Avenue instead of sitting through that long light on Main Street, then so be it.

So do your best, McCoy. I’ll say a prayer for you, Mitchie. But just in case, go ahead and read this book.

Jeff Mudd

* * *

GRADE SCHOOL

A man turns off his alarm clock and slowly gets out of bed. He is very tired. His head is foggy. He doesn’t want to get up. But he does. He almost always does.

He eats breakfast and arrives at the factory for work. He doesn’t really want to be at this factory. It is dreary, and the offices and buildings all look about the same. He doesn’t always like his job. But he goes. He almost always goes.

He likes some of the people he works with. Not all of them. Some of them he doesn’t even know. They all go to work together each day. The man makes a few good friends at this factory. In time, he even starts to like a few of his female co-workers. Not all of them. They all pass by each other several times a day. Not all of them like their jobs. But they go. They almost always go.

There are many small bosses at this factory. Some of them are good bosses. Not all of them. There are a few big bosses in charge of the smaller bosses. The man likes most of the bosses at the factory. Not all of them. Not all of the big bosses like their jobs, either. But the bosses and the workers