New Year's Nightmare

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Christopher and Nico enjoying good ole Saint Nick.  December 19, 2018.

December 31, 2018

“I will nightmare you, dad,” my youngest son said to me right after Christmas. We are only one week from New Year’s Eve and 2 months past Halloween. So he must be referring to The Nightmare AFTER Christmas.

“You will fall asleep and when you think you’re headed to the lullaby clouds and fairy dreams. I will be there to nightmare you and have all those happy dreams, disappear.”

Words my 8-year old jokingly declared on this holiday season are still not very reassuring of a happy and resolute 2019. Even if he is joking. But we are in the start of a new year and technically we are at humble beginnings so Christopher’s words got me thinking about some negative and bad things of 2018 that will try to creep into my new and improved 2019 and nightmare me.

January will come soon and bring along with it all the possibilities and hope a person can believe can and will happen when he or she announces their new year resolution at the stroke of midnight December 31st for the new year.

It’s a little disheartening and worrisome however that we announced our resolutions at midnight. Midnights aren’t exactly the moment when dreams come true. I mean, Midnight didn’t bold very well for Cinderella. And deadlines usually end at midnight. Expirations? Midnight.


This December 31st at the stroke of midnight like most of us, I’ll start off my New Year by declaring a diet and workout, body fit resolution. The gym will be crowded in the beginning so I know I’ll be in great company with all the other gym resolutioners. And like a thoroughbred racing horse people will be jockeying for positions to shed weight and get fit for July swimsuit weather.

As January fades away so will most peoples resolutions and the crowds at the gym will soon fade as well. Which the gym will be happy regardless because most “gym rats” will not cancel their membership and the $22.00 monthly bill (if not more) will be deducted from their accounts the next few years.

I will reassure myself that the missed days of my own workouts have nothing to do with a failed resolution of 2019 but everything to do with rest my body needs. My lazyiness will try to nightmare me but I will not give in.

February is an easy month. There’s only 28 days. Honestly, there aren’t enough days in the month to fu*k it up.

I’ll proudly spring through March. Having made it to spring and bid winter adieu, 60 days of keeping my resolution. I hope by this point I have minimized my negativity by fighting the good fight and still carrying on strong into 2019.

But will 2018 still continue to nightmare me? Heck no.

I’ll just hop right through April, like Peter Rabbit. Shower into May. Ring in the summertime of June and celebrate the 4th of July like its 1999, because I know no nightmares of 2018 have intruded this far into my progress. But now I’m on the back half of the year. Will 2018 still encroach?

August, September, October, November, December

Whew, trying to keep my 2018 resolution, this is a nightmare!

Suddenly, I wake up.

It’s still 2018. The new year has yet to begin. It was all a dream. I suspect Christopher was right. He did nightmare me. The gym a new year’s resolution? No way! My resolution is to continue to be a good father, husband, friend, and neighbor. This, I can surly keep up in 2019. 


I hope everyone has had a great holiday season, have a happy new year and a healthy 2019!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

A new Captain Imperfecto on the way.  3 boys, oye vay! Christmas party at our house December 22, 2018.

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The Flag Bearer for a Day for the NFL Miami Dolphins

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Christopher and Captain Imperfecto at the pre-flag meeting on the Hard Rock Stadium field. October 14, 2018

November 30, 2018

"Can you get a little closer, please? Come on folks, can you just squeeze in there and fill all the gaps. There are many people here. I don't have a bullhorn, as you can see".

My son and I were invited to pull the giant American flag across the football field during a Miami Dolphins game. A true honor for me as a lifelong fan and one hell of an experience for Christopher, my 9-year-old son.

The gentleman speaking to us was on the half portion of one of several spiral walkways that usually can hold about 500 people in segments as they enter and leave the stadium.

As he told us the rules, I listened intensely. Christopher sat there on a golf cart, mimicking a race car. He seemed very interested.

·  no opposing team gear!

·  No running with your phones because it could be gone forever if it falls on the field.

·  No cussing

·  No fraternization with the players

·  And if you are a flag puller. Well, run, run, run towards the other sideline while the flag unfolds.

After our pre-game pep talk, which was tailor-made for any Hollywood movie, We waited around for our moment to take the field inside the tunnel and inside the bowels of the football stadium. The roars of the crowd and the intensity of the music began to percolate the adrenaline from within both of me and Christopher. Just give me a uniform, and I'll take the field against the opposing team!

About 300 of us take a position along the inner walls of the stadium. Sitting right above us was only about 10,000 fans.

"Pop off the bungee cords, please. And hold on to that flag! "

We all grabbed a section of the 100-yard flag. The material snaked along the walls and was wrapped in an outer carrier.

I heaved my little portion of the flag and stood there eagerly awaiting to enter the field. Christopher, on the other hand well, was bored. He sat by my feet and waited for us to move.

As members of the Miami Dolphins staff walked the line to ensure everyone was in a good spot, one young man stopped before me. He stared at me and then Christopher.

"Sir, if you're pulling the flag, you may want to be a holder. We will run fast. Your son may not be able to keep up. If he falls. He'll have to stay down as the flag stretches out and run under it afterward to get out. It's so large that he may not come out at the right spot or get lost."

I heard every word he said. However, I stood there so long holding my portion of the flag. My blood flow to my brain was constricting my hearing, and I could only muster a smile and a nod to acknowledge his concerns.

Before I could decide, without any warning, the other flag holders in front of us were walking on the field. The flag lurched forward. And like an attached train car, I was mercilessly trying to stop it. Never thinking of letting go, I went with the flow and walked to the tunnel and onto the football field.

As a regular Joe Blow with no affiliation to the National Football League, I was awestruck by the energy field on the field. I can only imagine what it is like for a player to step out onto that field with the roar of a crowd. 

The music was reverberating off the walls. The fans were pumping their fists. Stadium personnel were swarming around like worker bees in a hive. The stadium announcer announced, "Let's give it up to our Miami Dolphins cheerleaders!"  Christopher's reaction? "Dad, stop with the pictures." 

We lined up along the opposing team's sideline. Those Chicago Bears players stalked the field, ready to play. I stood toe-to-toe with them but understood that even though I was a Miami Dolphins fan, I had better let the real team handle the football business. 

The field staff announced," Phones down! Get ready to run!"

I held on to the strap and leaned forward. I would run north to the south at the Miami Dolphins player sideline. "GO!"

I shot out the gate like a thoroughbred horse. All 100 of us took off as fast as we could.

"Daddy, Daddy, Christopher yelled. I wanna pull, too!"

 He turned to grab a hold but stumbled and fell to the ground.

The flag encroached like a rogue wave, ready to engulf him. But using my arm like the claw of an eagle plunging into the ocean, I reached down, plucked him from the green field, and launched him forward well ahead of the pack. 

"Run!" I shouted

Christopher turned and ran as fast as his little legs could take him. The crowd roared as if he was breaking through towards the end zone! The giant American flag draped the field and covered all the green like an anthill being kicked over. 

Christopher faced the all-pro running back Frank Gore, who stood on the sidelines waiting for the national anthem. Like a linebacker, Christopher locked in on him and charged right at him. But Frank Gore did not move. As the flag straightened and began to go taut, Christopher continued running onto the Miami Dolphins sideline, mingling with the players. I looked back and marveled. This could be the closest he ever gets to experiencing life as a player. It was good to be a flag bearer. 

925 words

Nico (front) and Christopher enjoying the hot tub on a cold Florida evening. November 25, 2018.

© 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. 

 
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The Haunted Land, a Halloween Story

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Christopher (front) and Nico just got their fresh haircuts. Snip-its, September 20, 2018 

October 20, 2018

If you could find your way to the valley of Indigenous Falls, nestled in a deep crevice of ancestral land. And you were lucky enough to locate the path hidden deep in the thick green forest. One could follow this path, and it would lead you to a baron land. Not only does nothing grow here, but also, not one living thing can survive on this cursed land. You will not find a mammal, a reptile, or an insect.

The story is told to generations of people about this spiritual land, which can give you everything and anything that you could have ever wanted. But your wants, needs, and cures will be used against you, as the land is known to have taken many lives.

Only one person has ever made it out to tell her tale of this land. She will speak to anyone who will listen about a property that goes way back to the Native people. Those Natives worked this land before powerful men, who used violence as a way of taking what they wanted and killing them.   They stole it from the people and tried to build on top of it.

She explains how this 300-yard long (274.32 meters), 500 (457.2 meters) yard-wide piece of baron land was a spot where the Native Americans would bring their dead and dying. Long ago, their ancestors made a portal to the other side. They spent years working the land, sacrificing on the land, and performing rituals to transform it into a place where their loved ones would make it to the spirit world. 

However, it was also used for greed within their own tribes. So, during their dance rituals, they promised to dance for God day in and day out, non-stop, to chase away anyone trying to exploit God's generous offerings.

In return, the spirit God rewarded them by protecting their dying and infirming them with safe passage on their spiritual journey.

However, as the myth of this place turned from whispers amongst the town folk to full-blown, full-scale expeditions were put together with quests to locate it. The Native American people were killed. In the process, the day and night rituals were stopped when they were murdered and thrown on the very fields in which they promised the Gods they would protect. The corruption of man and their evil intentions used their power to destroy everyone. In turn, the ritual dancers became very powerful. They were once protectors, but now they are soldiers. Their blood soaked the land and made the purveyors of the gate. What was once pure and good intention from the Gods was now rotted, and the stench killed anything that wanted to find a place on these grounds. 

A century later, this place was a mere legendary place that had never existed. It was folklore. It is now known as a haunted land. A place protected by ritual Native American dancers to protect God's goodwill and destroy anyone who dares attempt to use the land because of man's corrupt intentions. They say in the very still of the night. The dancers can be heard over the valley in this wooded place that lies bare from all life. They still chant to the sounds of drums. Their feet are still strumming the ground until this very day, echoing the valley. You can still cross this land in search of salvation; however, the ritual dancers will see that you pay a terrible price while you attempt to make it through the gauntlet.

A man was holding his dying son, who was stricken with cancer, before the border where the lush green grass borders the brown dirt of ancient land. He caresses his child. Kisses him on his dehydrated lips. Hugs him in case he never sees him again. He cries and whales in the pain that he wishes he could take away from his boy. 

He then lays his gaunt body before him. Just one foot away from the dirt that borders the lush grass where he lays his boy's head. He then whispers something in his ear.

'Go, son. Wake up and go to the Promised Land. You fight to get to the other side. Remember to avoid getting consumed with the treats or wealth the land will offer you. Do not give in to temptation. Ignore it all and run, just run, son, run as fast as you can, and avoid it all. When you arrive on the other side of this field, I promise you this, you'll find me waiting with open arms. Until we meet again."

The boy's father fades away into the darkness.

The day passes into night. The night passed into the day. The little boy still hasn't moved. Like clockwork work, the sun rises and sets. The tree's shadows in the surrounding area would creep over his body, offering shade throughout the day.   Finally, as the sun set on the 4th day, the boy opened his eyes. 

He is frail but manages to get to his feet. He stands there only in his underwear as he takes deep breaths. The boy closes his eyes and staggers into the land. He begins to stumble and is unprepared for whatever may come his way. He continues to stagger, but then his surroundings are magically transformed.   There is now energy in his steps. 

What was once a slow, deliberate stagger became a more solid walk. His back straightened, and his gait began to get long, full strides. The large tumors on his body melted into his skin. As he marched forward, the scenery turned to lush green landscape. A swirl of wind and bright lights encompass his body as he crosses to the other side, and just like that, the area turns into a place that would only live in his imagination.

His world is transformed. What was once green is now a rainbow of colors from candy littered through this fantasy world. The brown ground turned until a path of chocolate. The trees around him grew tall as he walked. The tree trunks grew thick, and the branches punched outwards. Leaves began to form, and candy bloomed from the tips and hung like apples and oranges. The flat ground began to rise like a wave as hills began to form, shrubs started to grow, and more candy began to form. His day was transforming into a candy land.

He felt new and refreshed. The cancer that ravaged his body and prevented much movement was gone. He was now free to run along the green grass and candy-laced trees. He marveled at the gummy bears that flew above him.

He dove into the sugar water lake and played with marshmallow swans.

He sat on the crushed graham cracker shore and ate the candy seashells. Life was grand.

He turned around, laid on his belly, and looked into the thick lush woods when he saw the chocolate bunnies hopping about.

"I wanna eat a chocolate bunny," he said.

He pushed himself up off the ground and charged towards the bunnies.

They saw him and scattered into the woods. The boy zeroed in on one and followed him along the path.

"Come on, chocolate bunny," he yelled while charging ahead.

The bunny stopped hopping, and the boy reached down and grabbed him.

"Hi, chocolate bunny," he said," you look good enough to eat."

The bunny squirmed a little and then stopped. The boy opens his mouth wide. He stuck out his teeth and took a big bite out of the rabbit's left ear.

"Mmm mmm, my chocolate bunny. You're sure delicious."

He swallowed his first bite and took another bite from the second ear.

"Mmm mmm, chocolate bunny. Now you have no ears. You sure are tasty."

There was a tap on his right shoulder as he went in for another bite. The boy turned to look and saw another bunny. Only this bunny was 2 stories tall.

The bunny held out his hand and told the boy he wanted his delicious chocolate bunny that he had just taken 2 bites out of.

The boy looks down and sees chocolate syrup tears flowing down the face of the little bunny. Ashamed of what he had done, he turned towards the 2 story bunny and laid his treat in his hand.

The 2-story bunny looked down at his little bunny and wiped the syrup tears. He then smacked his free hand over the top of his hand that had held the little bunny, sending chocolate splatter all over the boy's face.

The boy trembled. He was too scared to move. The giant bunny reached down and tore off the little boy's left ear. He then went to his right ear and attempted to rip off that ear, but the pain of losing his left ear woke him up out of his trance.

"No!" He screamed.

The little boy turned to run away as fast as he could. Blood dripped from the flesh that was torn when he lost his ear.

The 2 story bunny put the ripped ear in his mouth and nibbled quickly until the flesh was eaten.

"Mmmm, taste-tee," the bunny said in a slow, deliberate voice.

The big bunny then began to hop towards his meal by following the trail of blood. The bunny was so full of hate. And anger. His hind legs ferociously dug into the chocolate-laden path. Large nail gashes gnawed into the surface. His grunts were as loud as a runaway locomotive. He wanted to kill that boy.

The once healthy boy began to become ravaged with his cancer again. He wiped away the tears from his eyes while he ran as fast and as far away as the killer rabbit. He was crying, and the boys' howls seemed to fuel the rabbit's killer instinct more. He craved the boy even more.

The once candy forest began to melt. The sweet sugar became thick molasses as it settled on the ground, further hindering the boy's escape. But fear drove him to push harder through the thick glue-like substance that stuck to his feet and weighed his pace down, and pushed off the licorice vines that lunged at him, threatening to strangle him.

Tumors began to form on his body, further weighing him. This hell hath no mercy on his soul. Even though he was a child, the spiritual dancers did not have pity. His decadence has shown them he had no purity in him. He was corrupt.

With the killer rabbit closing in, death was all but inevitable. But out of the darkness, there appeared a thin light. Not knowing what that light was, he ran for it. Anything was better than this killer rabbit. Within this light was a silhouette of a man waving at the boy like a 3rd base coach to his runner who is rounding 3rd on his way home.

Tumors began to push outside of his body. Sweat poured over his brows, and he traced the lines of sizeable brown chocolate chip tumors that lined his face.

The boy was almost there. The angry rabbit was on his heels. His dad was the man waving his arms just outside, on the other side of the light.

"Enrique!" He shouted. "Enrique over here. You can do it!"

The little boy who was riddled with cancer began becoming weak. Who had no more energy to give, not even to save his life. He was about to be only the 2nd person to make it to the other side.   Where a new life awaited him. Not only him but his father, who wanted him whole again.

"Daddy!" The boy screams out.

"Taste-ee- Taste-ee- Taste-ee," the manacle rabbit repeated.

Within a few feet, the boy leaps towards his dad's awaiting arms. His dad grabbed him and held him close.

"No!" his dad shouted.

The rabbit stopped short. He bent over and went nose to nose with the child's dad.  

"No good," the rabbit said. His long ear pointed down to the ground.

The father stood there trembling. Turning his head to the left, he noticed he had crossed the border to reach his son. The dad looked up.

"Wait," he said.

The rabbit's ears encircled them and forcefully lurched back, bringing them both into the field. 

"ahhh," the last words of the father were heard.

Everything was quiet. Nothing was heard. Then, as the sun began to set behind the hills, a small Indian chant could be heard. Their feet pounding the ground. This land is haunted. 

2,091 words

Captain Imperfecto and Nico going to his first Miami Dolphins football game vs the raiders. September 23, 2018 

© 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. 

 
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Safety Zone

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Nico (left) and Christopher standing by their drone! (September 24, 2018)

September 30, 2018

Down the block from our house, there's a park where my kids like to play and just be kids without any of the worries we parents have. Damn, it must be good to be in their safety zone.   The boys travel by foot, or at times their electric scooter, along the tree-lined street. They sure are enjoying their youth. I hope they truly understand how lucky they are to be this young.  

Their innocence is evident in the purity of the conversations I overhear while walking beside them. Occasionally, I ask them about the latest things happening. Still, I'm too uncool for them to develop exciting topics. Can I just sit and stay in their five-mile safety zone?

My youngest turned 9 years old, and he will fly a drone for the first time. I have never flown a drone, so I am eager to see how it works. I'm excited to feel like a kid for an hour or so as I get caught up in the addictive laughter.  

My childhood drone was a kite. I still remember trying to select my favorite type or design. But my kite has yet to offer me a real-time view from above like a drone can! I could only use my imagination and wonder what it was like to soar so high. When I longed to see the world from the kite'skite's point of view, I would sneak onto the roof of my house and survey the world around me. 

The drone is small, about the width of a kitchen dish towel. It has four pegs, like a spider, and four upright propellers that spin so fast it sounds like a hundred bees swarming around a honeycomb. It has cameras to capture the moments that feel special as it overlooks what it flies over. Christopher placed the drone on the ground and activated the controls from my smartphone. He was completing a safety check. He then flew that drone so high. Nico marveled, shrieked with laughter, and begged to fly the drone at least once. 

There is a camera at the tip of the drone, and from the camera on my smartphone as high as 240 feet! I stand by and marvel at the video view that displays life so high above me. I wish I could be on top of that drone. The drone telecasts the peace and serenity above the trees and rooftops. How lucky a bird must feel while soaring high above the chaos below. 

The wind is soft, and it gently pushes the drone along my son's path. The wind doing for the drone what I try to do for my 2 boys''. 

The drone sometimes cooperates, and the ride can be bumpy, just like the bumps I hit on the road while raising kids. My frustrations can grow as high as the drone flying, but patience and practice will win the day. At least, I hope. If not, there is tomorrow that will take flight, and hopefully, as their dad, I have learned from the mistakes of yesterday. 

""You guys are never stranded in one place like this 5-mile safety zone you have here. You can fly above everything just like that drone,"" I said.  

They didn't hear me. The flying object, like a UFO, has grabbed all their attention. My kids have yet to appreciate this safety net. Because this moment we are having together is lost in the marvel of technology. But boys will be boys. One day, as an adult, you may read this blog if you remember the view you had from so high up above and find yourself stuck today. Remember, life isn't about a safety zone. Life is about flying high above everything and looking at the world differently. Challenge yourself tomorrow because you have lived through today.

Enjoy Nico's first NFL football game. Go Miami! (September 23, 2018.) Drone view from the roof tops.

© 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.  

634 words

 
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Big Wheels

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Nico and Christopher on their first day of school. (August 13, 2018)

August 31, 2018

Talking to my children in the car on our way to drop them off at school is an insightful way for me to learn about all the things I had loved when I was their age while listening to the things that they love so much. 

A topic of discussion that I brought up was a, Big Wheel.  After I Googled Big Wheel and showed them what it was, I went on to explain the pure joy of riding that plastic 3 wheeler up and down my block in a convoy with all my friends.

That larger than life front wheel spun round and round, as I heavy footed the pedal up and down our block.  Boy, we wore out that sidewalk.  We drove in cadence, zig-zagged without crashing and drove all day long.

“Daddy, those are kids on that I can't believe you were that little once!”

I chuckled.  It was a different time and place then the life they lead now.  We hadn’t ushered in the technology aspect of life just yet.  This decade was the age of cassette tapes and Sony cassette players.  I mean really, no one was impressed with a Radio Shack Commodore Computer or an Apple 2 computer at the time.  We were forced to play outside and utilize our imagination on the daily.  We built forts, ran in sprinklers and built imaginary cities in mud and dirt so we could toss our action figures around.

“You guys have no idea what it was like to be outside from early day and until the last minute of sunlight."

“Dad, are you going to start talking about how things were different when you were young, again?”

I didn’t have to explain to in-depth my fascination of youth.  The joy in my voice wasn't filtering out any details of my past youth.  I talked as if I were playing 80's music from my mouth.  Even though we are now in a different time and they are doing different things, I am on their side when it comes to bottling up youth and recognizing the power it has. 

I may be getting older and times have changed but the life I'm peddling is like that Big Wheel that drives life.  That joy i convey to them isn't lost to my boys because they hear the inflection in my voice and the know the glorious time it was for me when I was their age.

"We are in these periods of life that I enjoyed when I was your age," I said.  "We will never have them again.  This is the time to really understand your moment in life and realize that these moments are gone as sure as the day that leads us to the next morning.  Cherish these car rides to school with me because someday you'll look back on them as some of your favorite memories of us."

There was a long pause from Christopher and Nico.  The enthusiasm seemed to be sucked out of them by my oxygen consuming rant.  Or maybe I killed the moment with such deep insight.  I probably got too nostalgic on them and lost their concentration somewhere in my interpretation of what they need to cherish and not.  Maybe the term convoy was still on their mind.  These 8 and 10 years old boys who will never know life without a smartphone. 

"Dad, I won't forget this time either."

I smiled and didn't say a word.  I knew that even as an adult if I just keep peddling my Big Wheel of life as hard as I could, we will always have these moments.  Moments that us 3 will never forget.

Captain Imperfecto enjoying a Cuban Cigar in Havana, Cuba. (August 8, 2018)

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