Recently, I had the honor of watching my 12 year old daughter, Savannah, hit the game winning homerun in her last regular season fast-pitch softball game. It was after the game that I started pondering the question, How far is too far in terms of experiencing joy for your own child? My conclusion was simple. There is no such thing as too far when it concerns JOY for your own child. However, there is such a thing as being obnoxious to other children's parents, and this is where this video becomes relevant.

Take a look at the video below, and then humor me as you read my explanation as to why I THINK this video is not too far in terms of obnoxiousness toward the other team's parents. At first glance, it will seem pretty over the top and silly, but read the explanation below to understand the context.

Over the course of this particular game I made the decision to cordially talk to the opposing team's parents who sat behind the fence on the third base side because every time my daughter came to the plate I wanted to video tape from that side because she bats left-handed.

So, every thirty minutes or so, I would show up to poke my video camera into the fence to video Savannah while she batted. I made small-talk with the other parents sitting there. I found out which kids were theirs and I complimented them when those particular players did well in the game.

By the last inning those parents were expecting me to come over and tape my daughter and they were enjoying the process. They even bought into my plight and were pulling for my daughter to get a hit each time. Savannah had a good game up to the last inning so it was fun going back and forth talking with these particular parents.

Thirty minutes prior to this last at bat shown in the video I actually said to the parents sitting there that if it timed out right, Savannah's next at bat could feasibly be to win the game, and if that happened I warned them that I would lose my mind yelling for her. They laughed at this comment and sort of said something to the effect of,

If that happens, we'll understand.

(Keep in mind, I predicted this could happen while the score was 4 to 0 and Savannah was 7 batters away from batting again going into the last inning!

I have never made fun of a parent of a player who I coached who I saw going crazy when their child did something spectacular. In fact, I was probably running down the sidelines making a fool of myself following their child when it was happening!

The joy you hear in my voice during this video is joy brought about over the course of a twelve week season from dozens of conversations with my daughter about how much she actually wanted to just finally hit a home-run and knowing she never had before. It's brought about from the joy of knowing how she asked me repeatedly to take her to the field to throw batting practice to her by herself so she could learn to hit better.

This joy is coming after I sat with my daughter at the 4A Fast-Pitch State Championship game just one week earlier and watched the best softball I have ever seen played live, and heard my daughter say,

"Dad, I would never be able to hit the ball hard like these girls, because all my hits are grounders."

To which I replied,

"One day soon, honey, you will get a hit like you get in the batting cage, trust me."

This joy is completely pure. You see, unlike the parents living vicariously through their own child's experiences and never accurately judging their own child's abilities, I was not mentally running the bases with my daughter during this hit. I WAS WATCHING! I was geeking out FOR MY DAUGHTER! I was giggling inside knowing that for the rest of her life she would remember one night at North Springs Park when she hit the game winning home-run and no matter what happens after this moment, that fact will NEVER CHANGE.

Honestly, I don't even know if my daughter wants to pursue a serious softball future. I don't even care. I don't even think SHE knows. All I know is she has fun when she plays and she tries her best to do what the coaches have taught her. I know she works really hard and deserved to have good things happen to her because of that. But I also know how sports work, and they don't always reward the hard work in a proportionate way. Just because a player puts in the time and effort, especially at age 12, doesn't necessarily mean good things will come that player's way. I try and teach my kids that the hard work makes good things more likely, but it doesn't mean they are guaranteed.

I was overwhelmed with a very specific message in my head while my daughter was running the bases. That message was simply,

"She'll always have this, she'll always have this, she'll always have this."

With a small part of me thinking,

"Slide, slide, slide!"

I think that is something I think a lot of parents I see at games miss. They get so caught up in what the future may hold for their child if their child performs well, that they miss the fact that their child is actually playing the game right then in front of them!

Whether my daughter plays softball ever again or plays softball for the rest of her life, I won't care, as long as she is playing or not playing because of what SHE WANTS TO DO. But no matter what happens, I know she will always have this one night. This one night when it all came together for her like she had hoped. A night when she accomplished even more than she thought she was capable of ever doing.

As a parent you always wonder if your child gets it when it comes to complicated things like competitive sports and all the dynamics that play into that experience. I have true evidence that my Savannah gets it. In the car ride home after this game the one thing she said that made me know she gets it was this.

"Dad, when I was coming around second base and saw the ball still in the outfield and I knew I was going to get a home-run, I just started giggling and couldn't stop... like giggling out loud... like if you filmed me running, you will see me giggling."

As a parent, it's not the memory of your daughter's home-run that will last a life-time, but it's hearing your daughter tell you she was giggling uncontrollably out-loud while rounding second.

That will be what I will remember. Forever.

Last night I had the honor and privilege of providing the opening 15 minutes of comedy at a fantastic show put on by Steve Simeone and Pauly Shore. Yes, that Pauly Shore. I would like to put it on the record that Steve Simeone ripped the room in half for twenty-five straight minutes with his hilariously retold stories of his childhood growing up in the 80's and 90's (when Pauly Shore was famous.)

I would also like to put it on the record that Pauly Shore was two hundred times funnier than I thought he would be. Also, afterwards he was actually very gracious and cool to the hundreds of folks that waited after the show to take pictures with him.

But I wanted to focus this blog entry on how last night defined for me how I realized that I had "finally made it in comedy."

Afterwards, the line of people to get autographs from the Weeeaaazuul was pretty long. The Clarion Hotel wasn't perfectly equipped to handle the "Paulasteria" that broke out after the show. Never fear, Comedian Marty Simpson is here! As chaos was breaking lose in the building, I decided it would make sense to have one central person taking photographs. I offered this to Mr. Shore at the beginning of the madness and he just looked at me like I was a leper who wasn't buying a T-Shirt and he brushed me off. Then I think Steve Simeone whispered to him, "He's our opener from tonight... he's okay..." To which Mr. Shore promptly responded, "Hey, opener dude, yeah, you, the tall bald dude, you take the pictures."

The Weasel with his megaphone.

Then the Weasel shouted into the megaphone, which was mysteriously at his table, for everyone to form a line and give their cameras to "Opener Dude" so he could take their pictures. I have never been more honored to serve my community than last night when I got to do it alongside the pride of 1992, Pauly Shore.

I am guessing this women wished she had paid closer attention while her picture was being taken.

It was a pleasure meeting the talented, Steve Simeone. I would say it was an honor to meet Mr. Shore, but technically I never got a chance to meet him. I did, however, take a few hundred pictures of him with other people's phones! I also earned the nick-name, "Opener dude," which everyone started calling me.

And that's when you know you've made it in comedy! When you are the guy who the headliner trusts enough to take the pictures of his fans you know you have officially made it in comedy. I am happy to finally realize my dream.

Recently, I have been working on the lyrics to a country song. I decided to run these lyrics as stage material last night at great little open-mic here in Columbia, South Carolina at Conunundrum. The song lyrics went over better than I expected them to with the hipster cool young audience. (Honestly, the "fresh out of college folks" are not my wheel-house if you know what I mean.) But last night something in these lyrics resonated with this crowd. It was a fun time.

Then, without me knowing it, the band started reprising my song on stage during their next music set. I immediately stopped them. I think they thought I was mad. However, I stopped them so I could record them doing it and post it on my blog.

Part of the way I pitched the song as stage material was to explain how I can't sing and I haven't written the melody yet, but I wanted to run some of the rhymes by the audience to see if they thought the lyrics were funny or not. I explained how I pictured the finished song being like a Toby Keith song akin to "Red Solo Cup," which would allow me to talk the verses and have someone talented sing the hook.

Well the folksy, awesome, "Post-Timey String Band" put their own spin on it five minutes after I ran the material, and it was just fun to see my written words take life. I realize many of you will wonder why I was excited enough about this to post it on my blog, but understand I have zero musical ability. So just seeing something that I wrote take the form of a song was a near religious experience for me.

Here is the video of The Post-Timey String Band singing my song. Noteworthy: The melody they were singing was actually one of their own songs -- but still, it's crazy cool either way.



You Can't Trust a Man with an Even Tan
by Marty Simpson

I will be posting the lyrics to the song soon, so make sure to check back and give me your suggestions!

I recently was informed that I had won a very distinguished honor. A copy of the letter I received is attached to this blog below and can be clicked to magnify it. Here is a transcript of the letter. Needless to say, I was blown away by the gesture that the N.A.P.W. made by selecting me to represent Blythewood, South Carolina in their organization.

The letter begins...

Dear Marty Simpson,

It is my pleasure to inform you that you were recently chosen to represent Blythewood, SC as a new member of the of the National Association of Professional Women, your 2011/2012 membership has been approved!

Yes, you read that correctly! It goes on.

Please be sure to verify your featured profile at:
www.Marty------------.com (removed actual link)

When I clicked the link I was given the opportunity to pay 197 dollars for the "privilege" of joining. Oh but wait, it goes on.

The NAPW highlights and features the country's most accomplished women in over 200 industries and professions. [ and evidently a few select men! ] We provide an exclusive and powerful networking forum for our members to communicate and successfully achieve social and career development.

Inclusion is a privilege shared by thousands of professional women throughout America each year.

AND BY ME! I am so touched!

Click the picture below to see a larger, readable version of their letter to me.