“Can we take it to the bridge?” he’d ask.

“Yeah!” the band would shout.

“Can we take it to the bridge?” he’d ask again.

“Yeah, man!” the band would shout.

Nobody ever said “I’d actually rather not take it to the bridge.”

Legend has it that a bass player from James Brown’s early days got a bit too big for his boots one night in Atlanta. After Brown asked for the fifth time if the band could “give it a little bit of the horn right now,” the bass player said “Can we just get on with the damned song, already?”

That bass player’s name was “Fired” Bobby Johnson, and he was never heard from again. His short-lived career was a cautionary tale for all that would follow in his wake.

It would have been nice to get to the fairground. We might have enjoyed another night at that restaurant where my kid was so well behaved. It’s a shame we didn’t have an opportunity to see this person or that person. That sort of thing.

What’s nice about all this, of course, is that we’ll be back before we know it. These are all things we’ll eventually get to do, and we won’t have to wait long to do them. The list we’re making now can go in the envelope at home where we keep our passports and pounds, ready and waiting for the next trip over.

It’s a nice feeling, and one that emphasizes what a home away from home this is. And considering the fact that I spend much more of my time these days in the place my wife grew up than I do in the place I did, you can bet I feel that sense of home myself.

We’re getting up insanely early tomorrow morning – or late tonight, Eastern Standard Time – to load a toddler onto an eight-hour flight. It’ll be a hectic day, but it’ll also be a small price to pay for the wonderful time we’ve had here, as always.

In fairness, I actually did run through an airport for her once. It was the day she finally arrived in Canada for good, after years of traveling back and forth on visas. The reason I had to run was because I’d gone to the wrong terminal to pick her up. Man alive, she was pissed.

I try my best, and I generally do fairly well, but I’m not perfect. And I’m not just saying that to fish for compliments. If anything, “I’m not perfect” is a massive understatement in my case. But I do what I can each day, just to be worthy of my wonderful wife and my awesome kid.

The fellow in this post isn’t perfect, either. He obviously does his best, and I’m sure he’s feeling appreciated today. Being compared to the guy gave me a real “man of the year” feeling, so I hope he’s enjoying the thrill of actually being that guy.

But I hope he’s also feeling inspired. If he’s anything like me, being told he’s doing a good job has strengthened his commitment to doing a better one. I was touched by Kate’s comments, of course, but I also felt a little bit undeserving, because I know I can always do better.

None of us are perfect, after all. You make mistakes in a marriage, and you’d better believe you blow it ’round the clock as a parent. But you learn from today, and you commit to doing a better job tomorrow.

And when your wife tells the web that you’re doing a great job, you accept it with all the appropriate perspective and modesty, and you hope she knows you’re just trying to keep up with her. Because she’s pretty great, too.

The second is the return of Deeper Society, which is happening at Northwood tonight. Resident Mike Lamberti is “on assignment” this time around, but DJs Ronnie Blake and Wil Ehren will return for another night of deep soulful house. Check out the event listing on Facebook for the info.

Whenever we head to the UK, we try to make time for a day or two in London. As much as I love the time I get to spend with family, I usually look forward to that brief bit of time in the city. This time, however, I’d all but forgotten about it until the night before.

Maybe it’s because the trip to London was my wife’s idea this time, and maybe it’s because it was a last-minute decision. Or maybe it was because I’ve been spending so much time with my kid and my family during this trip, and because I’ve been enjoying every minute of it, that I just haven’t put much thought into doing anything else.

If that sounds lame, it’s probably because it is, and I accept that. On the other hand, the reason we’re in London today is to see some immersive theatre project that the sophisticates who live in this town apparently have a tough time getting tickets for. That’s pretty cool for a couple of parents from Canada, right?

It’s not a very big job at the moment, because my daughter doesn’t know that many words, let alone that many songs. At the moment, in fact, I’ve only got one song that I screw up deliberately on a regular basis, and in these early days, it’s mainly for my own amusement.

I’m sure you’ve already guessed which song it is, but I’m not going to name it. I don’t want this post to end up in anyone’s search results for the words to that song, because I don’t want to ruin it for anyone who enjoys it. In fact, if you’re one of those people, I encourage you to stop reading now.

Still with me? If so, then I applaud your courage, and I apologize in advance for being the reason you’ll sing “there were incidents and accidents, there were hints and alligators” in your head whenever you hear that song from now until the day you die.

I know that for most of you, that information is useless and this post was a colossal waste of time. I don’t expect you to make the trip to the south coast of England just for a cup of coffee. I’m sure my in-laws would welcome you once you got here, but that’s not the point, is it?

“Really?” I replied. My wife misses the UK from time to time, but she’s no fan of the monarchy, let alone a news cycle flooded with one of their babies.

“That’s why it’s such a relief,” she said. “Nobody around here assumes I give a shit just because I’m English.”