Last night I was sitting in the living room with my wife, when she asked me if I knew my son was leaving Marine boot camp this weekend. She just happened to be on Instagram, and noticed that my son had told his Instagram friends that if they wanted to talk to him, they had to do it by this weekend, because he was going to be gone for 13 weeks. Harmless enough right? Wrong. Wrong.

Granted, ever since my son's graduation from high school last month, I knew that magical boot camp date was coming. So at least twice a week for the past several weeks, I've been asking Carlton if he had a date, and every time, he'd tell me "not yet Dad" or "I'm still waiting". I felt bad for pestering him, but I know how forgetful and negligent he can be at times, so I kept asking anyway. So imagine my disgust when I get this magical date via my wife looking at his Instagram page (I hope it is as ridiculous to read as it was to type). I immediately texted my son to ask him why he'd forsaken me, and his response was something Theo Huxtable would say to his dad, "I just found out earlier in the day while I was playing basketball."

Now when I reached out to him it was 11:25pm, which means he found out at least four to five hours prior, and he STILL decided to type that heartfelt Instagram message before informing the very person who has been on his ass about it the last few weeks. I want to punch him in his mouth before he goes to boot camp--and I actually told my wife I was going to do as much last night--but this morning I realize that was just misplaced anger on my part. I was more upset about yet another Instagram post where my son quoted a rap song and said, "He f**ked b**ches". Such a classy young man. Boot camp will straighten up some of that filth I hope. I still wish he had gone to college, but oh well. He has to find his own way.

When I typed Theo Huxtable, I almost decided to type a few words about Bill Cosby, but I don't have the heart. He's a brilliant man who entertained me for years, and has been a great advocate for education, kids, etc. But he's a creepy f**k, and that part of his life has now made it into the first paragraph of his bio/obituary (sounds mean, but if you think every major newspaper hasn't started and edited Bill's obit, you are crazy). It is sad, but I don't feel sorry for him at all. He's had a full life that is ending badly.


Go buy that new Bilal. It is called "In Another Life". The wife and I went to see him in concert last week, and he was amazing.