A Drive Through a Zombie Apocalypse into Work

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July 5, 2024

I started my vehicle. The rumble from the motor shakes the ground, rattles the surrounding environment and alerts the neighbors that I am off to work. The vibration rattles me awake. Or could the jitters be from the 12 ounces of caffeinated coffee I chugged down before I left the house? It's Sunday, but it's not a fun day for me. I have to work. It sucks, but thankfully I only have to work every other weekend. The morning drive was deprived of human activity, so it was quiet ride into work since it seemed as if everyone was still sleeping but me. The birds' chirping broke the silence, voiding out any thoughts that an apocalypse could be upon us. Why don't we have more zombie animals? I dock my phone, set the music, don the sunglasses, and head out in search of the occurrence of crime and disorder. No, I'm not Batman. Only a guy entrusted by the public to do his job for an honest wage. 

I leave my cul-de-sac towards the long stretch of treelined roadway, domed by a blue sky, brightened by a rising sun. What a beautiful day, it sucks to have to go to work. On my trip to the exit gate, I pass some people doing their morning walk. They are my first sight of people who exist, reassuring me that we are not currently being attacked by zombies. I feel relieved and let out a sigh. Now there won't be a delay to work. Like a man on a mission to the moon or another worthy trip, I focus on my drive on the winding roads. I hang a right and head east into a sea of brake lights. There is traffic, and there is a ton of it. My God, there must be an apocalypse occurring!  People. Are. Fleeing!

What is up with this traffic on this beautiful Sunday? I dodge to the right lane, the lesser of the traffic lane, but about 10 other drivers decide to do the same thing and immediately clog my lane with their cars, creating a backup, but then freeing up the lane we just left, so I turn my car into that lane and pass them. But I see a few police cars with their lights activated, and the officers outside their cars are directing traffic back to the lane I just left. They blocked the whole intersection off, forcing cars to turn south., Wow, this must be a huge apocalypse, and they are warning us to stay away. As I inch closer, I can see that it was a traffic crash. It's not a zombie war. No need to panic; I only need to follow the traffic flow and find a new way to work. At this point, I should just go home.

I travel about a mile to the next major roadway, where I can turn east again. A car was in front of me, and the driver decided to drive very slowly. It's slower than the 40-mile-per-hour posted speed limit. They trickle down to around 12 miles per hour. But why so slow? Maybe the driver is turning into a zombie, and the zombie can't drive. Perhaps the driver is being attacked by a zombie by the person in a car who didn't know they would turn into a zombie. Oh no! It's mayhem, I think to myself. As we approached a dual-turn lane, I pulled alongside the car and saw that the problem was much worse than zombies. They are texting and driving. What a fool that person is.

I decided when the light was green, I would get away from them as quickly as possible, as if a zombie was coming for me. And with the green light, I zoom down the road, away from that car and any vehicle around me. I need to get to work. But at this point, I should just go home.  

Weekends are made for family and friends, but I knew when I took this job that some work weekends would be required. I will honor what I signed up for. That makes it easier to drive towards the work site. An honest day pays for an honest day of work. And no matter how much I was hoping for a zombie apocalypse, It seemed that even that wouldn't stop me from getting here. 

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Lack of Motivation to Write a Blog

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Nico, Christopher Jr., Blake and Max partaking in a little KFC. May 25, 2024. 8:18 P.M.

June 1, 2024

Lately, I have needed more motivation to write a blog. Seriously, I can't write a single word. Allow me to tell you about it. There are no words to use to be witty, creative, or helpful; l have nothing to say. It pains me that I have typed out this much so far. Tap, tap, tap on my keyboard. I stretch out a string of words to create enough sentences for a useful paragraph. I'm writing aimlessly, hoping to have something tangible to publish, something inspirational, informative, or funny. I don't know why I do not feel like being vocal about this or that. I just don't want to write—no offense to those who write daily. Pen to paper, fingers to keyboard, or, in this case, standing naked beside the shower while steam from the hot water attaches itself to the glass of my phone as I mash out this note on my iPhone's notepad. 

I thought about what to write all month and couldn't figure it out. I'd like to write about my trip to the Dominican Republic or Europe again. How about re-describing the beautiful sunrise I witnessed while driving to work the other day? The sun breaks the earth's horizon over the Atlantic Ocean like it's climbing out of the sea. The bright orange ball begins to illuminate the blue sky with orange hues. It was breathtaking to witness a wonder of magnificence no matter how many times I've seen it. No, I have no motivation to tell you all about that.  

All my strength, emotion, and feelings rolled up inside me have bubbled and can now be seen from my normally stoic exterior. The stress in my face allows many people to read me. Man, the fact that people can see it written all over my face causes me stress. The emotional bubble begs me to pop it so the negativity can spill out of me. To transcribe it in a Word doc and publish it! It will allow my stress to be replaced by happiness, and I can start fresh again. But once the anger and anxiety rear their ugly heads, they can espouse themselves, free flowing in my opinions and written in this blog, full of ranting and complaining about whatever has me so worked up. Whether it is my kids, marriage, or work. Sometimes, the weight of all three can be overwhelming and create a controlling environment that makes me feel like I cannot do anything for myself. But I'm not in a vulnerable place mentally or motivated enough to rant at you at the moment. I will anchor this emotion until a better time to release it. 

If I had the inclination to make a change in life with an essay I was writing, I would first begin to say that I worry about my kids living in the world during these turbulent times. There is concern about the environment and financial growth for their future. Of course, I'm juggling money around like I did yesterday or today, and probably will tomorrow, like a card hustler on a New York street corner. What will their financial future hold? There is so much to consider in today's world. It is better to zone out and fantasize about good things, like candy factories and furry animals. 

I really wish I was in the mood to blog my thoughts. I want to tell you everything that is going on inside my mind. It should be refreshing to say all this in my latest blog post. My trips, needs, and wants. But not in this blog. No, not today. I will tell this story soon enough though. But this lack of motivation to write is killing me. 

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Blake and Max enjoying life in America and respecting those who gave us this freedom on Memorial Day. May 27, 2024, at 7:45 P.M.

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Along Came Max

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Left to right. Blake, Max, Nico and Christopher. April 28, 2024.

May 1, 2024

And then there was Max. Max is my fourth son and, more than likely, my last child. I am fortunate to be a father of 4 living children. I had 2 twin daughters who passed away. I never wrote about the birth of Max. He is my Covid baby. Conceived in 2019, born into history in 2020. What a time to be pregnant. Lockdowns were prevalent, and shelter-in-place was ramping up. It was mass hysteria in the United States and the world. I would ask myself several times what kind of society we were bringing my boy into? Being blessed to have a child should be an exciting time for parents. But when there is so much uncertainty about the world, restrictions regarding who can attend doctor appointments, and witnessing a tanking society, there sure was doubt on bad days. 

Max came pretty quickly after his brother Blake was born. Be forewarned, men: Once women figure out their bodies and can get pregnant, their sense of fertility is greater. Having a second baby rather quickly after the first baby is a reality. I don't care if it is your 1st child, 2nd child, or 15th child. One never realizes how much they need that kid in their life until after they have one. I needed Max. He completes us. Selfishly, I did secretly hope for a daughter. We had a gender reveal, and when my wife opened the box, I saw a pink balloon. For half a second, I thought we had that girl, but very quickly, I saw a cluster of blue balloons surrounding a larger balloon with "ITS A BOY" scrawled in the middle. At that point, I was happy. I just wanted him to be healthy.  

The pregnancy for Max was not complicated at first. Lauren made her way around Madrid, Spain, without any issues for about 3 weeks from Christmas through the first 2 weeks in January. When Covid hit, well, that is when she and I could no longer go to doctor appointments together, so I missed out on a lot of witnessing his womb development. Something I was a part of with the other 3 boys. I wasn't totally cut out until the end. 

Max was a c-section baby. He was scheduled for the early morning hours. He was born without complications. I had the opportunity to cut his umbilical cord. That is always a treat.

Lauren wanted the name to be Max only. Cleaner that way. But his name needed to be more official. Especially when filling out any kind of official document. I did like the name Maximus. But, for some reason, mom did not like it. Even after seeing Gladiator! 

While in the hospital with the new baby, an aide from the county who registered the babies' names came into our room with official documents. She asked us if we had his name selected, and we both said yes. She left the paperwork with us and told us to fill it out. She would come back later to collect it. 

While filling out the form, I used the clean Max. After it was all said and done, I called the aid, and she came and took our paperwork. But it didn't sit well with me, and I wanted an official name that idea would weigh on my mind if I did not change the name. Lauren gave in to me and informed me to go with it. I called the lady back, and she gave me new documents to fill out, and Max was reborn into Maximilian. Even though his name is Maximilian, and his mom and dad are happy with that, the baby boy will always be called Max. After all, we were a family of five until along came Max, so why wouldn't we be glad about that?

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Blake (left) and Max having a great day. April 27, 2024. 

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© Copyright 2012- 2024 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be republished, rewritten or redistributed without permission.  Please contact if you would like to re-publish in film, television or print. 

Hooters to Go

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Nico and Christopher Jr. enjoying the Salt Life on the island. March 20, 2024

April 13, 2024

My wife and two of my four children returned from Madrid, Spain, at Miami International Airport after spending 6 weeks with her family. That was a long time to be away from me. One would think I partied it up while she was gone, but I did not. If it wasn't work-related, I stayed home most of the time. I was lucky to enjoy peace and quiet but missed them dearly.

The flight arrived around 8:30 PM. When they went through U.S. Customs, we got the luggage to the car, which was nearly 10. It was me, her, and our 4 children. Reunited once again, and it felt so good! But now, they were all hungry. Time to open up the wallet and spend the big bucks on food and drinks. This economy is not friendly to a family this size. I know Miami, but I do not know Miami well enough to find a nice restaurant in a good neighborhood with a safe environment. Besides, it was a Thursday night, and there was little open for as late as it was on a Thursday night. And with so many people in our party, the opinions on food vary. In the end, someone will be unhappy with the choice to eat.

I drove aimlessly in the night northwest on U.S. 27 through Miami Springs. With no luck, I hopped on the 826 and headed north. I was bound to find something. But as we passed each exit, I began to get anxious. I wasn't finding anything to my liking or anyone else's liking. The time was ticking. We were on the clock. Soon, nothing would be open, and no one was going to eat. It was time to make a decision. So, I headed north towards Broward County. A place I knew well. I was bound to find something. So I jumped on the 817 and headed into Pembroke Pines. We were pushing 11:30 P.M., and it was time to choose or lose. That is when I saw the owl. 

The sign was still lit in a parking lot full of cars, indicating the restaurant was open. I looked at my wife and told her, "Ready to see some boobs? Because we are stopping at Hooters." I could go for some chicken wings and a lively atmosphere.

I have four boys. Chicken wings and boobs may be too early in their life, but we have to eat.

Thankfully, the restaurant still accepted patrons, and the hostess could seat us. We followed the lady in the orange short shorts towards the back of the restaurant. Our 4 kids in tow passed all the adults as they drank beer and talked about grown-up things while sucking on their chicken bones. Soon, my wife and I will be discussing their flight and trip while both of us would stop intermittently to tell our kids to knock it off or we are going to leave and not eat. 

The other server ladies would stop and say hello to our 3 and 4-year-old boys. Bending down, squeezing their cheeks. Their tight white shirts held the same things that their mom breastfed them with when they were born. I'm unsure if it was an appropriate place to go with 2 toddlers and 2 teenage boys, but we gotta eat.

The boys messed with their iPads, and the 2 older ones played on their phones. I concentrated on my wife, and my eyes were laser-focused on her beautiful face so that my eyes did not wander about. There were women everywhere, but I hadn't seen my wife in nearly 2 months, and there was only one person whose Hooters I was ready to enjoy, but that is a story I can not tell. But I knew we would be home at around 1 A.M. after dinner, where I would have a second helping of Hooters-to-go. 

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Blake (sitting) and Max enjoying the beach on a beautiful day. April 13, 2024

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