Shrek The Musical Top 10

On the first Wednesday of August, my family and I traveled to Cresson Lake Playhouse to experience Shrek. Since his debut on the big screen in 2001, Shrek has been reimagined and has endured in the patheon of lovable bruts. Featured below is my Top 10 from the outstanding cast of characters who brought Shrek to musical life this summer.

#10 $1 Popcorn

If I have ever stepped foot in the Cresson Lake Playhouse before, I cannot remember doing so. Upon arrival, I was impressed by this historic house of theatrics. I had a back pocket, back row seat perfect for a Girl Dad who wants to stretch out as much as possible. Also, if I would fall asleep, wooden frames directly to my right would prevent whiplash. And I did not anticipate being bored to slumber, I am just programmed at this point in my life to get sleepy around 8:45 PM (8:30 PM) (8:25 PM) no matter where I am or what I am doing. I do admit that my head was like a fishing bobber after intermission yet that should not dismay the cast and crew. Much like Shrek, I am a creature of habit. 

And all creatures must enjoy popcorn at a playhouse. Especially when it is being sold for four quarters. In a land of tariffs, price hikes, and tip options for every conceivable purchase or experience, it is nice to know there are still woodland playhouses selling $1 popcorn.

That's a fairy tale in and of itself. 

#9 Gingerbread Man 

The scene stealer of all scene stealers this night was the Gingerbread Man. Played by a female with such conviction, I could be convinced she was born a cookie. Her hostage scene was comparable to Anne Hathaway's performance in Les Miserables. We all dream big dreams. Sometimes though you just don't want to be eaten alive by a merciless, miniscule lord. 

#8 Farquaad's Faces

That lord was Farquaad and that actor's facial expressions were pompous perfection. He consistently looked deformed in the face and acted deranged in the brain. His minions would repeat his name throughout the musical in a committed, comical chant. He scored big laughs from the crowd and rightfully so. 

Also, rightfully so, he did not get the girl. (spoiler, Farquaad face)

#7 Peter Man 

When Peter Pan came on stage for the first time, I was immediately struck by his beard and cave dweller appearance. I let it go (like Elsa), knowing that actors are probably hard to find and once found, you cannot force them to shave. Then many acts later, a mid-scene joke was told about Peter living in his parent's basement and never growing up.

Well played. Well played. 

#6 Liars

I bought 3 no-bakes preshow and initially announced I would share them. With my wife or my daughters or the 3 little pigs. 

In a dark playhouse, in the darkest corner, I ate all 3 before intermission.

Cheers, Pinocchio. 

I'm a real boy.

#5 Musical Farts

Boys and girls can appreciate farting to music. It is not ogre. It is deeply, deeply human. Before the triangle and the tambourine, there was the fart. Shrek and Fiona did what all fine actors do - they challenged their inner child and pretended to pass gas into the audience to song. 

Heartwarming.

Buttwarming.

#4 Fire Breathing Dragon 

Another standout voice came from a red, murderous, flying beast. The girl who played the fire breathing dragon had an incredible voice. She was a scary good, fire breather. The costume design across the board was top knotch yet the dragon was a particularly creative creation. And while that female role did not breathe literal fire, her singing music scaled high on the chops thermometer.

Well done, dragon. 

Voice of fire. 

#3 Other Dads

At the playhouse, the seating is split by the stage so I had a Dad's eye-view of what I could ensure were the other Dads on the opposite side. During the performance, I could easily pick out the other head bobbers and concession stand invaders. We all share the same facial expressions, driving responsibilities, and sleep patterns. It was as if a spotlight shined on these men and proclaimed...

"You are not alone and you will be driving home in the dark."

#2 Let Your Freak Flag Fly

This number was the anthem of all Shrek anthems. The battle cry for all the misunderstood and misguided fairy tale characters. This performance, by a small army of iconic characters, was a trumpet blast to embracing who you are and where you have come from. 

And that's a lesson every adult, child, ogre, and gingerbread man should live by...

Be you. 

#1 To the Cast of Characters

In November of 2024, my oldest daughter had a role in a local rendition of Fiddler on the Roof. Many of her cast mates from that Imperial Russia setting made their way to Duloc and a Kingdom Far, Far Away. The guy who played Shrek was her father in Fiddler. The actor who shared the stage with her at UPJ was now Donkey...and kicked some acting a** like a playhouse Eddie Murphy. 

Throughout the night, I fought of falling asleep by going down memory lane. From Fiddler, to Shrek, to every on stage opportunity my girls have experienced, a gratitude flag flies for all the local talent who have given us something to cheer for. 

My girls fell asleep on the car ride home. I did not have that luxury. I was dutiful rather than envious. My sleep would come soon enough. 

And when your kids are growing up fast and it is hard to slow things down, a playhouse performance might just be the place to go. 

Sweet dreams, Johnstown. 

Don't be a Farquaad. 

Midsummer Awards

No one really knows when it is the middle of summer. Culture, calendar, and heat are the essential ingredients in the summer blender. Some dog days go sun-baked, basset hound slow only then to immediately question, "Where did summer go?"  The 2025 campaign has had some scorchers and monsoons, some glory and some guff. Would you want an endless summer without air conditioning? The summer breeze might make you feel fine, but how do you feel when the humidity reaches super sticky and your home is a melting madhouse?

Without further ado, the Midsummer Awards. 

Best Picture 

Most award shows end with this category. Luckily, this is a blog and I present to you Superman. As parents, we have reached the PG-13 plateau. I can look my 10-year-old and 8-year-old daughters in the eyes and ask them, "Can you handle comic book violence and the word sh** for two hours and maintain your innocence?"  Without hesitation, they gave a unified, Clark Kent confirmation. My wife also attended. She gave unneeded confirmation and sat Subaru shotgun en route to the theatre. 

Going into this movie experience, I was not a big Superman guy. I gravitate to superheroes who have an animalistic approach - Wolverine, Spiderman, Perry the Platypus (Phineas and Ferb is a phenomenal show). With that said, two thumbs, or claws, or hooves up for Superman. Intense action sequences led to Superman saving the day. 

That is not a spoiler. That is what he does. 

Get over it. 

Best Ensemble 

This award goes to athlete superheroes representing animals - the Johnstown Mill Rats. Since their debut season, our family has been a part of the Rat Pack. My girls are frequent participants in the on-field shenanigans. From the Fruit By the Foot, No Hands eating contest to Tug-O-War to catching frisbees in a pizza box, they've showcased their skills on the turf alongside collegian ball players. 

Those players have the Rats in position to host a playoff game next Friday. And beyond the players, there is a small army of people who get a Prospect League Team on the field to provide a fun, summertime experience. Caps off to one and all. Special shoutout to the July 3rd pre-fireworks promo video production team. The Mill Rats recreated a classic scene from the 1993 film The Sandlot and it was outstanding. 

Looking forward to more fireworks on 8/1. 

LET'S GO RATS!

Best Actress

While this blog usually focuses on hometown heroes and hoorahs, the winner in this category is from the Wild West. This June, our tribe visited Colorado, Wyoming, and Montana, saving Yellowstone National Park for the grand finale and it did not disappoint. This was primarily because a tour guide named Ash was a woman I would follow to the ends of the Earth. She was a kind, knowledgeable, fascinating human who led us on a 12-hour tour de force of our country's oldest national park. 

My daughters will have the memory of observing a cinnamon black bear sitting under a canopy of trees, only to be outdone by a black bear (no cinnamon on this beast), casually climbing the grassy knoll we stood upon. That is when Ash, like a war general, commanded everyone in a 1/4 mile radius to get in a vehicle or risk being lunch. And this happened hours before we ate lunch at a picnic table near Old Faithful. 

The Mother Nature majesty moments kept coming all day. From geyser greatness to a lone wolf crossing the road to bison herds in the triple digits, it was an incredible experience. But above all, I want my daughters to remember Ash. There was a moment where my girls stood beside her, watching geysers bubble and boil, creating the wildest of mists. All three of them were smiling into that sunburst mist and it was one of my favorite memories from our Westward Expansion Lampoon of 2025. 

Close second - my wife. (Sorry, honey. You know Ash was awesome). 

Best Actor

Me (golf clap).

So, I did not drive a single mile through Yellowstone. Probably would have drove us off a cliff. But, I did drive over 800 miles in a single day from Colorado Springs to Bozeman, Montana. 

Close second - Superman. 

Best Song 

How can I write about America's pasttime and Yellowstone and not award The National Anthem?  My girls sang the anthem at a Rats game early in the season only to sing it once more at a 27-hole golf contest on the 3rd Saturday in July. That contest is a summer tradition where some of my friends return to Johnstown and pretend to be from Europe (Team Europe). Those who live in Johnstown or somewhat close to Johnstown retain citizenship (Team USA). My daughters sing the anthem every year on the steps of Berkley Hills Golf Course in this Ryder Cup for the Ridiculous. 

And despite being a key contributor to Team USA losing every single year (since the inaugural Cup of 2023), hearing my girls sing is always a win. 

Best Bet

Depending on how you classify summer, we got one to two months left. Seize every last bit of it. Run those air conditioners as hard as the Rats on the base pads. Recognize that kindness just might be the greatest superhero trait you can have. When you hear the line, "gave proof through the night that our flag was still there", carry an attitude of gratitude from sunrise to sunset. Sing it out. 

On a daily basis this summer, I have been awarded. Enjoy more fun in the sun and summer life on the run. 

And if it rains, pour gratitude on. 

Cheers to community. 

Wizardry and Women

 As the lone wolf man of my household, I learn daily from the thoughts and actions of women. This Spring semester has been particularly enlightening, bolstered by my eldest daughter's role as a munchkin in Bishop McCort's musical rendition of The Wizard of Oz. Without further ado, here is my Top 10 of the season, covering my April to May education taught by a wife, a 10-year old, and an 8-year-old:

#10: Bike Brain 

Weeks prior to Oz, my female trio attended Westmont Hilltop's musical, Into The Woods. I, being the clever fella that I am, convinced my family that I needed to literally go into the woods instead of attend this performance. Clearance granted. A showstopping Dad move. 

And then, on The Path of the Flood trail, I crashed on my bicycle. Like Wiley Coyote gets an ACME explosive dropped on him by Roadrunner crashed. Exiting the Staple Bend Tunnel and crossing a wet bridge, my bicycle made a Looney Tunes left. My body went hard right. In a second, the soundtrack to my life was written: A Dumb Dad in the Dirt. 

Thankfully, thy helmet protected thy cranium. Once I confirmed I was alive and retrieved my wheeled transportation, I had one more mile to bike for Subaru refuge. My right leg was bleeding, adrenaline was pumping, and I was internally repeating "I am such an idiot" like "There is no place like home". When I indeed got home, I had my mother, a retired nurse, come out of retirement for an unpaid, 20 minute traveling nurse appointment. She assessed my right eye socket, right cheekbone, right leg, and entire ego. 

When my girls got home from Into The Woods, I was on the couch, using two ice packs, showing off my versatility and courage. 

With one eye, I was watching televised golf. 

And we lived happily ever after. 

#9: Bird Brain

Weeks later and completely healed (not counting my pride), I had the pleasure of touring the Powdermill Nature Reserve in the heart of the Laurel Highlands. From bike buffoon to bird nerd, I was in an ornithology heaven on Earth. Hidden in the woodlands of Rector, Powdermill is a powerhouse of birding. I got to observe how birds are banded, tracked, and studied. I learned that the black and white warbler is nicknamed the "Oreo bird". I was grateful that I was no longer black and blue and able to fully appreciate this Mother Nature experience. To Bird Nerd Nation, I salute you. 

#8: Heart Award 

Counting the parents only performance of Wizard of Oz, I spent four consecutive nights in the auditorium (Kansas). By the time we got to the final performance on Saturday, I was picking out subtle differences in stage design and had consumed a tornado of popcorn. The resounding breakthrough performance, the Heart Award, goes to the girl who played Tin Man. She did this deep voiced, pathetic cry that was so perfectly heartless. 

And to all the kids who starred in Wizard of Oz, congratulations. I cannot remember the last time I watched the 1939 classic, but in 2025, a dedicated collection of kids and one dynamic musical director set the stage on fire. 

The Wicked Witch literally used fire on stage. 

Pyromaniac.

#7: Leg Forward 

At BOLD Crossfit this spring, my wife and I have conquered a variety of workouts to supplement the rigors of parenting theatre kids. This has given us the leg power to push the Subaru pedal to transport them to practices, get ice cream, etc. Above all, box jumps, air squats, lunges, assault biking and dead lifting have made us more humble, happy humans. 

That springtime energy and effort to date leads us to Memorial Day weekend, where two events separated by 48 hours, will demonstrate how the benefits of community exercise go well beyond physical. On Saturday, 5/24 The Path of the Flood Historic Races return. I will be running with a pack all destined for the finish line @ Peoples Natural Gas Park, the site of my wedding reception.

Sorry, our wedding reception. 12 years into marriage, I should know better. 

To all those running in the 5K, 8 miler, or 14 miler, good luck. Run your race.

And then on Memorial Day morning, The Murph Challenge is on. 1 mile run (Lions), 100 pull ups (And Tigers) , 200 push ups (And Bears), and 300 air squats (Oh My!)

And then another 1 mile run (Oh S***).

My wife and I are going to give it our best shot. Our daughters will be at BOLD to cheer us on and support the small army of Crossfit athletes willing to give it a go. 

Thanks to Michael Murphy who served his country, lost his life in service, and now brings people together for one glorious workout. 

As the Lion learns in Oz, wisdom is stronger that courage. Grit inspires. 

#6: Lean Forward 

My 4-year-old niece is playing in her first season of tee ball. When on the field, she gets in textbook deadlift position and puts her glove on the dirt. Her form is impeccable as she just waits for a ball to roll into her mitt. Besides chewing bubble gum, she is motionless. America's pasttime at its finest. 

Her team, sponsored by the Johnstown Mill Rats, follows their own Yellow Brick Road to home plate. Watching bobblehead kids run the bases is true theatre. Some scream. Some look lost. Some have to be enticed to keep going. At one point, a fielder on the opposition was doing dirt angels near the pitcher's mound. It is One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest meets Angels in the Outfield. 

The Johnstown Mill Rats home opener is at 7pm on Tuesday, 5/27. Our family of four will be there. 

Two of us will be sore from The Murph and might need to bring seat cushions. 

Bleachers (Oh S***). 

#5: Westward

The Wicked Witch of the West is dead. I watched her die 4 times, so it is officially over.

And in June, to celebrate, our family is headed to Colorado, Wyoming, and Montana. In between my bicycle accident, finding Toto, and trying to fine tune my 41-year-old body, I have planned a Wild West expedition for the ages. 

Go big or go home. 

We are not in Kansas anymore (went in 2024). 

Eat your heart out. (Sorry, Tinman) (pathetic cry). 

#4: Go Back in Time 

Inspired by our westward expansion trip coming this June, my wife and I decided to start the series Yellowstone.

On DVD.

On a portal DVD player with a 16-inch BIG screen.

We rent the DVDs from the library.

In early May, I had to pay a 50 cent late fee for Season 4 of Yellowstone. 

If you have seen the show, imagine me as Rip. Imagine me walking up to the library checkout and being informed that I have an unpaid debt. 

I just stare at the library woman. I tell her to keep the change.

And I get on my horse and head back to the ranch. 

#3: Go Further Back in Time 

As a chaperone on my daughter's 2nd grade field trip, I provided Dad supervision @ Somerset Historical Center. This trip took place on a rain soaked Tuesday that led to localized flooding. We, the 2nd grade settlers, got to experience settling while the glades were sloppy and schools were getting early dismissals. We learned about cornmeal mush, the pack horse, red clay pottery, the spider skillet, and of course, the tinsmith. There would be no Tinman without the Tinsmith.

Thanks to all the Historical Center staff for trudging and educating us. I enjoyed learning what it was like living off the land without a DVD player. 

As John Dutton warns, "I am the opposite of progress." 

#2: A Little Left to Go

The school year is almost over and a sincere thank you to all my daughters' teachers over the years. From preschool to present day, an attitude of gratitude for educators. On the field trip I was responsible for two boys for around three hours. They were what I once was...

Lunatics. 

I imagined what it would have been like traveling with them in the 1700s. I imagined what it would be like having them in a classroom all day. As the only male chaperone, I manned the boys bathroom during the field trip and it was barbaric.

I will never curse the volume of Barbies in our house again. 

Girl Dad strong. 

#1: The Time is Now

In Oz, Dorothy takes us on an epic adventure fueled by her relationships, her ambition, and ultimately, the joy of returning home. Her story has stood the test time. Her friends, the Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Lion, have resonated with generations...I think because we all can relate to their colorful characters. 

And all good stories need good characters. I am grateful for all the people described in this blog, in this community tale. I am grateful I live in a time of blogging. I would have been a bankrupt blacksmith. If I cannot pedal my bike across a wet bridge, God only knows how I would have met my doom on the settlement. 

As we power toward the end of the school year and the beginning of summer, show some grit. Support local music and races. Appreciate kids for simply being kids and be a kid at heart. When in doubt, wear a helmet. It might just save your life. 

To life, liberty, and the pursuit of the final episodes of Yellowstone (not on DVD yet!)

Carry on, Johnstown. 

February 2025 Top 10

Snow. Ice. Sleet. Slush. Freezing rain. Power outages. 

All of these did not make my Top 10 for February 2025. Without further ado, and to march into March, my gratitude list for the shortest yet most treacherous month on the calendar. In no particular order, the small businesses in our community that helped my family conquer the winter grog and combat the cabin fever that is February:

#10 - Whoever Operates a Plow 

Technically, not a small business, but a huge difference maker in our winter existence. Thanks to any human who has cleared a war path on our streets. It has been a formidable February after a January that seemed to be the longest month in the history of mankind. To all those community members who have cleared the way and probably used profanity while doing so (like I have been toward all forms of precipitation). Many a February day, I have sat in my Subaru and sworn in solititude. It is therapeutic. 

And I don't need any more therapy. Enough, winter. Enough. 

#9 - Local Newcasts 

Specifically, underpaid reporters standing in the cold @ Gobbler's Knob. We have a family tradition in our humble abode where we tune into the Punxsutawney Phil pageantry. While watching any sort of news broadcast can be deflating, I love a good weather update in the present conditions. And the apex occurs on Groundhog Day. College educated media members are assigned to the knob of all knobs. It is celebratory. It is weird. It is theatre. 

It is not therapy, but I imagine some of the reporters will be in a session soon. 

Bless their hearts. 

Curse you, hog. 

#8 - Tap 814

On Valentine's Day weekend, the weather was, you guessed it, terrible. But, the steak tips at Tap 814 - tremendous! Forecast cupid, you may have shot an arrow through my heart yet a perfectly cooked set of tips, well that is paradise. Steak, you seized the day. Nice work, Tap 814 chef. 

#7 - Saturday Night Live

Again, stretching the term "small business", the 50th anniversary special was enjoyable for so many reasons. First and foremost, it was not live on late night Saturday. It was on Sunday at a Dad friendly time and I stayed awake for the entire event, which is a feat in itself. As a humorist and dreamer, I have great admiration for SNL and the process of live comedy. If I had to add one more woman to my household, I think it would be Kristen Wiig. 

#6 - Boulevard Grill

Each February, The BLVD celebrates the life of Nicolaus Copernicus, a Polish astronomer and mathematician with a historically bad hair cut. It is a bizarre birthday party that my family has embraced for almost a decade. Their is Polish grub, accordions, and my 85-year-old uncle proudly supporting his heritage. 

A sincere thanks to The BLVD staff who made this year's celebration another silly success. The 2025 Copernicus theme "Keep your friends close, and your pierogies closer" was on point. My 7-year-old went one step further, keeping the chocolate cake even closer than the pierogies. 

She was unconcerned if the chocolate cake had Polish roots. Her great uncle also went to town on the chocolate cake, because above all, they are Americans. 

God Bless the USA.

And Poland.

And Ireland (thank you, Guinness).

#5 - Ryan's Artisan Goods

#4 - Stackhouse Park 

Shared recognition for these two all-seasons-stalwarts. Despite winter's wrath, I combined a Stackhouse Park hike with Ryan's nourishment multiple times this February. As a Stackhouse Park board member, I am grateful to all the volunteers and the Park Ranger who make Stackhouse what it is. I do not believe there is a board for Ryan's, but I would like to believe I am on it. Remember, I'm a humorist and dreamer. This Cambria City small business has provided us a gauntlet of good times grub. 

On one particular February day, I took a Stackhouse hike and observed a deceased deer that was absolutely devoured alive by a pack of coyotes. I did not see the attack, just the remains. I would share the picture, but some of you would never eat again. 

It was wild. I love Mother Nature. 

I ate a Ryan's smash burger directly after this Planet Earth experience. 

#3 - BOLD Athletics 

I am not just smashing burgers this winter. I am crushing Crossfit. Two months into this new exercise challenge, I am having a BOLD blast and my whole family has had the chance to crossover into this fitness realm. Sure, you get sore and some workouts are torturous, but the rewards have been plentiful. 

Take for instance, the Bad Ass Open (which my 7-year-old calls the "Bad A Open" because she is pure). I participated in this final day of February event where one specific workout is completed worldwide in uproarious Crossfit unity. BOLD divided humans into teams and I was destined for Team Purple. Ridiculous costumes were encouraged so I used a Donatello ninja turtle number for the royal and the ridiculousness. I did not keep the costume on while completing the workout because burpees, dumbbell hang clean-to-overheads, and lunges are hard enough. I do not need to impair my vision and add costume weight to the experience. 

I did add my 10-year-old and she was in beast mode. I went from Bad Ass to Proud Dad in a 15-minute grueling workout. She was pumped to do the workout by my side. At one point, my oldest daughter and I were moving in synchronized burpee. While the gym was a loud frenzy, I was locked in a moment that I will carry for awhile - the joy of exercising with her, separated by 30 years of life, but together on this mat and giving it all we got. 

And as I grew sentimental in my heart she was pumped to leave my side and lunge out ahead of me. Dad burpees evolved from young smiling dolphin to beached solemn whale. 

When time was up, I was covered in sweat and gave my Crossfit partner a big squeeze. 

And that was the best muscle tension of the night. She commented on how sweaty I was. 

I know how lucky I am. 

Thanks to the BOLD community and the inspired exercise. The madness extends now into March. 

Damn you, burpees, damn you. (swearing in solitude).

#2 - My Aunt 

She owns a hot tub and lives down the street. Since starting Crossfit, I have used it weekly.  

Thank you, Patty, thank you. (muscle and joint applause). 

#1 - Spring 

Think of this upcoming season as a small business. Appreciate it, visit it, and believe in it. There were so many reasons to pack up or pack it in this winter. Instead, we told winter to...

(use your own profanity)

We persevered and pushed through. We laughed out loud and slid across the ice without falling. And if you fell, you got back up. If my daughters remember anything from this winter, I hope it is the smiles stretched across the community. From a kind waittress on Copernicus night to a competitor on the Crossfit mat, kindness remains undefeated. 

Take an attitude of gratitude into March and recognize the strength in numbers starts with you. 

And if Old Man Winter tries to knock down your door...

Knock....

Him...

OUT. 

(Mic drop)

Big and Bold

"Go big or go home" is a reference that often puts emphasis on a decision. It was over 10 years ago now when a group of community members talked about investing in a big artifical Christmas tree and plopping it down in Central Park of Johnstown. When retold as legend, lampoon, or act of lunacy, no matter how it is remembered, it is just that - remembered...

to order big and bring it home. 

As a guest to Discover Downtown Johnstown Partnership's 10-year celebration of the Christmas tree, I learned about the party's shining star, the tree, which is a credit to a small army of Yuletide yahoos. And this characterization is not an offense to them. As many of them summarized, this was a Christmas crazy, going out on an evergreen limb decision. Word got around that money was being raised to ship a 36-foot-high tree out of some elf factory in the Pacific Northwest and light up Johnstown in a Chevy Chase brand of spiked eggnog, holiday fervor. 

And that is exactly what happened. 

My oldest daughter, who turned 10 this month, has celebrated all her Christmases with that downtown tree. Traditions often start when an absurd idea takes flight...

Right after this Christmas and before the New Year, I had my most significant "This is 40" moment. I decided to just walk into a Crossfit gym and declare that my athletic career was not going to go quietly into the night or at least I was not going to sink any deeper into the couch. Like the spark that led to the downtown tree, I sprung into action. 

And a month later after joining Bold Athletics, once again, I have been rewarded by community strength. At the core, and my core is quite sore from planks earlier this week, the tree and Bold are all about community. About people coming together and working toward a common goal. For anyone who has walked around the tree during the holiday season, the strength is in the numbers - of volunteers showing up winter after winter, of children singing and dancing, and of small business owners working together to make a big difference. For anyone who has trudged through snow @ 5:30 AM to complete a work out, I am proud to be in your pack. 

In my Crossfit community,  I have not been tested this much in terms of language since Spanish 2. There is the WOD, and kipping, and EMOM... I personally like the box and the assault bike because I can easily identify what a box is and I know exactly what is going to happen when I get on that bike - I am going to assault my legs. It has been a challenge and I am appreciative of the men and women who have been a part of the exercise. They have provided encouragement, motivation, humor and have helped me overcome my language barrier. 

By the time the downtown tree lights up for Year 11, I plan on being a Seasoned Crossfit Understanding Human (SCUH). I'll be 41 by then, accelerating toward Girl Dad greatness. My daughters will be getting closer and closer to teenage life and I will be pedaling harder and harder on the assault bike. 

I will have benefited from all those community members who have frozen their butts off putting up the tree and to those who have been working their asses off on the Bold mat. Hard work shines on and pays off. 

Cheer on that groundhog this Sunday. If you had to take down the tree this year or braved the subzero terrain to get to a workout, there is only one way to root. Spread an attitude of gratitude for all the risk takers, squat jumpers, and anyone willing to show up and shake it up when necessary. 

Phil, box jump us into Spring. 

Goodnight, Johnstown.  Dream big dreams. 

Adios, Invierno!  (Goodbye, Winter!)

National Lampoon Christmas Road Trip

On Friday the 13th, I was a passenger in a van to the Pittsburgh Botanic Garden with a ticket to Dazzling Nights, an exploratory, seasonal extravaganza through enchanted wilderness. Combined with friends who are family, we were a team of four parents, two boys, two girls, and zero partridge. The van was so jampacked there could have been a pear tree growing in the middle row. Without further ado, a Top 10 of our light show lampoon:

#10: Light Show PreShow 

To get the party started, the Squirrel Hill Tunnel never fails to offer a brake lights brillance. With the children eating pizza and doing assorted art projects, it gives Moms time to hunt and gather. They talk about layering while collecting items like palentologists on a van dig. The Dads criticize the architects of the Squirrel Hill Tunnel, who surely earned a lifetime of coal. They also eat pizza to stay strong and mighty. 

#9: The Bundle 

Upon arrival, I was the first person to get out of the van. This was after my fellow Dad drove through a holler that felt more like the terrain to The Grinch's abode than to anywhere in Pittsburgh. Once on foot, I surveyed the landscape while peering back at the van frenzy, which was a light show in itself. One of the Moms, not my wife, bought light up gloves for the kids from Amazon. I have never bought anything on Amazon. Ever. (reading Moms gasp in shock)

Let the walking begin. A 4th grader. Two 2nd graders. A kindergartener. Four adults in the prime of their lives. Teaching the children the magic of Christmas and driving 75 miles to walk. God Bless America. 

#8: The Bumble 

Before setting out on this expedition, my Internet research concluded that this holiday, botanic trail would be appproximately one mile of walking. In comparison, the surviving members of the Donner Party traveled 2,499 miles farther. And there light show consisted of the moon and the stars, and a wish that they would not have to resort to cannabilism before the journey was over. 

Some wishes are not granted. Thankfully, we just had Papa Johns. 

All the women in my family brigade wished to go pee before the walk. This led to two pheonoma - the never-ending line of the women's bathroom and the inability of young boys to stand still and wait. I sauntered into the men's bathroom and I could have done interpretative dance in there. The line to the women's bathroom snaked into the hallway like a desperate, frigid serpeant. When my wife exited the female throne (hours later), she looked like a security guard escorting two vandals (our children) to jail (The Great Outdoors). 

I asked what happened in there and my wife answered with her eyes. At least they didn't have to eat each other. Meanwhile, the boys were using the high traffic sidewalk to punch the air and yell untranslatable commands at the botanic garden plants. When Jesus was born, I am sure there was some commotion. 

#7: Holiday Hop 

To begin our journey, everyone received a handheld map that illustrated 14 distinct dazzling regions. If we stayed the course, the trail would circle back to our starting point. If we did not, we would end up in Ohio. I concluded that our tribe did not really settle in until Region 6, Holiday Hop. Before that geographic point, we were scatterbrained and scattertrailed. Holiday Hop is where we found our true colors, lighting up circular lights on the ground by prancing all over them. Prior to that, the previous displays lacked a platform for self-serving aggression that both children and adults enjoy this time year. 

Both our families participated in an entertaining game of light show cat and mouse. It was the high octane, laugh-out-loud silliness the Van Vortex 8 needed. Only one individual cried and that was because his brother is a barbarian. 

#6: Snow & Glow

We took Holiday Hop momentum all the way to the snow machine. The snow machine provided a beautiful flurry that led to a flurry of photos. I overheard one woman lamenting that she should have waited and used this snowglobe scene for her Christmas card picture. 

I walked up to her and told her the Donner Party never sent out a Christmas card. 

Keep it moving. 

#5: Eggnog for Clark 

At about the halfway point of the expedition, there was a strategic hut of beverage. Feeling like Lewis and Clark Griswold, I got an eggnog with the option to spike it. Glory in the Garden. After buying my wife a simliar eggnog and an unspiked hot chocolate for my precious children to share, I filed for bankruptcy. 

Through Amazon. 

#4: Firefly Field

This was the most alluring attraction on our walk in the woods. Hundreds of lights dancing as if they were fireflies. It was a beautiful display that made me think about summer and how good this eggnog is. I wondered if the Dazzling Nights board thought about calling this region the Lightning Bug Boreal instead of Firefly Field. I lost supervision of my kids while in this wonder wander. 

#3: Grand Finale 

One of the last loops took us over a bridge and around a small pond. Entitled "Brilliance", it was appropriately named and sugar plums danced in my head. Moments later I staggered through neon green laser beams that kids thought were so cool. I found them to be disorienting and oppressive to my 40-year-old eyeballs. 

Take your laser beams and your Instagram and your instant gratification needs and GET OFF MY LAWN. Where's the Tylenol?

#2: Live Music 

After completing a triumphant loop, we actually circled back to the barn, completing extra mileage because we are wilderness warriors. The barn had my oldest daughter's favorite holiday food, the hot dog. There was also a musical man with a guitar playing Christmas classics. The other three parents set off to hunt and gather while I established dominon near the musician. I fortified my position, leaning on a high top table while I also kept track of the the little ones on this righteous mission. Multiple tasking. 

While getting starry eyed listening to the tunes, I felt a tug on my vintage Christmas coat, passed down to me by a neighbor of my youth. I looked into the eyes of my kindergarten friend, the youngest of our team, and he gave me a big Christmas smile. As I was about to smile back he blurted out, 

"I JUST WIPED MY BOOGIES ON YOU...REAL BOOGIES" (immediate wild laugh) (end scene)

#1: Together 

On the van ride home, there was a lot of recapping and reliving our night on the trail. Gradually, everyone started drifting asleep. Some kids first. Then me. Then some more kids. Never the Dad driver (well done). When we arrived at our front porch, I carried my youngest daughter from the van as if she was wounded on a battlefield. 

And the hoopla that is Christmas season can sometimes feel like a battle. There is so much to do and not enough time to do it. There are the countdowns, the colors, the concerts, the concerns, the chaos, and the craziness the season brings. 

And then there are times where it is just nice to walk with your family and friends. To appreciate your health, the ability to get outside and on your feet. To share time with good people and make good memories. That is life's true light show. 

As we make our way toward Christmas, walk, don't run. Slow it down and enjoy the view. Carry an attitude of gratitude like Santa carries his bag of toys. This trail leads to 2025 and let it be a happy and healthy expedition ahead. 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, Johnstown!

To Life

When my 9-year-old daughter got a role in a local performance of Fiddler on the Roof, I was not fully paying attention. This turned out to be symbolic as the musical centers on a Girl Dad trying his best to listen, love, and not lose his mind while sharing a home with all women. Like Tevye, I am the only man living under my humble abode's roof, and some times the father brain gets fuzzy in such conditions. 

Months ago, my eldest declared she got a role as one of Tevye's five daughters, the youngest, Bielke. My wife had told me about the auditon and my assumption was this was a grade school style showcase of the iconic story that I did not know or remember. If I watched Fiddler on the Roof before, it was lost in my memory. I might have been playing football with her younger sister when I received the details of this community production of Fiddler. So, that might explain why I also do not fully remember receiving the initial musical expectations - I was acting as a tackling dummy for Bielke's real life sister, who now has a Troy Polamalu jersey and it is the role of her lifetime. She puts that jersey on and her flowing Irish red hair transforms into the intimidating locks of a Hall of Fame Samoan safety. 

Fierce. 

Also fierce - Fiddler practice started in August. I learned that I needed to use my dependable Subaru to get my shining star where she needed to be. I learned that Tevye often talked to God about his unreliable horse. I found myself talking to God, driving my Outback all over the land, vaulted into the Theatre Dad Vortex. I then met the man who would take on Tevye and be my daughter's stage father. Prior to meeting this community member, my dear Bielke pointed out that Tevye and I shared striking similiarities - white guys with big beards (and hearts), not much hair on thy head (beauty), and she estimated we were around the same age (young). 

When I shook his hand, I saw the similarity and we discovered we had spent about the same time on Earth. When I heard him sing, this similarity stopped like a defiant horse unwilling to go any further. This guy was good.  In going on 10 years of driving my daughter far and wide, my stage has been the Subaru where I sing poorly, proudly, and passionately. Everything from the edited version of Bulls on Parade by Rage Against The Machine to John Denver's Country Roads. I'd like to think if I did anything in that ten years, I taught her to enjoy performing. 

On the first Friday and Saturday of this November, three performances of Fiddler on the Roof took place @ the Pasquerilla Performing Arts Center on the UPJ campus. The enjoyment flowing from the crowd was indisputable. The talent on the stage was tremendous, led by a powerhouse Tevye. Hundreds of hours of practice led to an incredible testatment to local talent.  All memories fade in time, but I hope to remember my community's Fiddler on the Roof the rest of my days and for all the right reasons. 

Reason # 1: I am so proud of the daughter I drove home from the hospital almost a decade ago. I was not blasting Bull on Parade for that first transport. I was driving more like a grandpa who should have his license taken away. We made it home safe and it has been a glorious experience ever since - being her Dad. It did not surprise me at all by how joyfully she danced, how impassioned she sang, and how strongly she acted. In the hours leading up to the shows, I confidently repeated in my Dad brain "You got this girl". And sure enough, she did. 

Reason #2: My daughter experienced the power of a community coming together. I cannot thank the Director enough for what I saw every time I picked my daughter up to take her home from practice - a genuine leader who guided, complimented, affirmed, and joked with the people dedicated to telling a story while he remained steadfast in detail and purpose. His commitment was inspiring. As the practices progressed, I would meet the cast of characters who became my daughter's stage family. I would commiserate with fellow Dads in the Theatre Vortex. Our family was invited to Friday night cast parties to share food, karaoke, and do an essential human thing - relax. 

Thank you to all those who made Fiddler on the Roof what it was - a family. From the direction to the choreography to the actors - you welcomed a little girl into a creative process that is a testatement to an undeniable truth - when good people come together, great things can happen. And that is a standing ovation that goes way beyond the curtain call. 

Reason #3: A small army of family and friends came out to support these performances. My kids have been blessed by four outrageous grandparents, who have done their fair share of driving around all over the place to help raise these wild childs. My daughters have grown up in a world where their grandparents were always there for them and that is an almost a decade long performance I will forever be grateful for. Over the course of this weekend's three shows, the audience included those four grandparents, teachers, aunts, uncles, cousins, a church family, the best man in my wedding and his family, godparents and friends. In a packed auditorium, a wolfpack of Stephenson supporters howled and hollered. An overjoyed recognition of all those who came out. If you saw me at Show #2 or Show #3, I wore shorts because I overheated at Show #1. I taught my daughter to enjoy performing. I taught myself, as a Dad in the vortex, if to be nothing else, be comfortable. 

When the final show ended late Saturday night, the performing concluded but not the celebration. This might be the last time in my life I get invited to an after party with my kids that starts at 11PM. To Bigdogz Grill we go! (howl at the moon and thank God for daylight savings)

As Fiddler folk gathered, the room filled, a loud love for the arts. Overtop the noise, the Director did what directors do - got everyone's attention. In a heartfelt toast, he acknowledged what this community created and his appreciation for the effort, the grit, and the final product. And then in a theatrical breakout, the cast started to sing the musical's rallying cry, To Life. Like we did all weekend, my wife and I clapped thunderously and foot stomped triumphantly. 

And in that moment, I was grateful for the wife who gave me two great kids. To Johnstown, our hometown, rooted in family and faith. To balancing life and letting the music speak for itself. 

To being a Fiddler on the Roof.