I stood there for a minute or two, wearing a thousand-yard stare, before a cool, morning breeze reminded me of my 7:30 bus. I took a step outside, pulled the door half-shut, paused for a moment, then continued out, closing the door behind me.

Back at the beginning…

A few weeks prior, DreamWorks was kind enough to pass along an invite to the press day for Chris Rock’s latest comedy HEAD OF STATE. Bernie would be there, they said. Chris would be there, they said. That guy who plays the pedophile in HAPPINESS would be there, they said. A “Save the Date” e-mail was sent along and soon thereafter a date was circled on my calendar. Beyond the usual research, not much was thought of it until the date arrived.

That Sunday morning the alarm shouted SHERYL CROW in my ear (funny that I set the alarm to “radio” from the buzzer to wake up more pleasantly, yet I now wake up to SHERYL CROW, which is arguably more annoying than that loud beep) and I quietly crawled out of bed. With a kiss on her cheek, I left my sleeping wife behind, bag packed with recorder, tapes, pad and pen. Slowly crept down the stairs, careful not to wake either of the babies and opened the door to a beautiful spring day. I took a deep breath and looked up at the blue sky for, God, it must’ve been close to a minute or two. And there I stood for some time. Transfixed.

I couldn’t leave. Could NOT leave. I knew if I didn’t get one foot moving in front of the other quickly, the bus would be pulling away without me. And for some reason that didn’t sound like too bad a deal.

It’s nothing against Chris Rock or Bernie Mac; these are two of the funniest guys around. While nervous about the film itself - as the trailer and commercials seemed to show Rock at his stilted worst - after watching the film in a packed Upper East Side theater, I can honestly say it wasn’t nearly as bad as I feared. In the film, Chris Rock plays Chris Ro- er…I mean, Mays Gilliam, a patsy presidential candidate who, after series of brutally honest campaign speeches, actually finds himself with a chance to win (much to the chagrin of the nameless political party who is setting him up to fail). Yes, I actually laughed a few times.

It wasn’t the stars and/or the movie giving me pause. It might have been the early morning wakeup after a long night of baby feedings and diaper changings. It also might have been the slow realization of the transcribing I would have to do later that week (the bane of my existence). But both of those things come with the territory and, while frustrating at times, realize that if you like getting paid, you gotta work. Like my Dad always says, that’s why they call it work -- if it were fun, they’d call it fun.

As I finally mustered the strength to walk out that door, I realized what was holding me back –- I was walking out the door. Walking out the door and leaving behind a baby girl, not yet even a month old. Leaving behind a little boy who, in what seems like a flash, is already almost two. Leaving behind a wife –- who I barely see anymore anyways –- alone to again watch the kids. Leaving behind a sink full of dishes. A floor full of toys. A hamper full of dirty laundry. A drawer full of bills. Leaving all that behind to la-di-da around New York City, eating lunch with movie stars.

I’m not the guy I used to be. These trips were never a problem before. Yeah, I’m still just a 25-year-old kid who eats too much Taco Bell and watches too much Cartoon Network but now there’s another layer. I’m a father –- no, a Dad –- now, and with that power comes great responsibility. The responsibility to rid the world of evildoers like the Green Goblin and Doctor Octo…I mean, the responsibility to be around. The responsibility to throw the ole ball around. Rock the baby to sleep. Help change the dirty diapers. All responsibilities I’ve been shirking lately.

With my weekly column at Poop Shoot, my daily duties at JoBlo.com and other assorted freelance gigs that actually serve to pay most of the bills, in addition to my fatherly/husbandly duties and a top-secret pet project I’m working on, my time is stretched to its limit. I’m not saying I want to be “Who’s the Boss?” or anything, but I’m beginning to think I should be spending less time following “who’s starring in what comic book movie next” and more time at home, laughing, tickling and handing out the occasional noogie. If I don’t, in 20 years I won’t be saying how much fun I had at the HEAD OF STATE junket, I’ll be saying how I wish I would’ve spent more time with the kids (“Cats and the Cradle” syndrome).

Even Chris Rock said when we were talking, the reason he quit his HBO talk show was because he found he couldn’t do it all and do it well. The show, his standup, movies, his family…he was trying to do too much and as a result all the work collectively suffered.

That’s how I feel right now. I’ve got a lot on my plate and I’m trying to do everything to the best of my abilities but I’m left with this nagging feeling that none of those things are being done to my satisfaction. My columns here have suffered of late. There’s nothing there. I’m extremely hypercritical anyway, but I’m almost disgusted with the quality of the work I’ve turned in lately. It’s an embarrassment.

The Oscar column this past week really was the shit-kicker. For the first time as I was writing a column, I had the unmistakable urge to stop. Literally just hit delete, write Chris and just say, “sorry but no column this week.” Turn my computer off and stop worrying about the fucking Oscars. The meaningless Oscars. Is that taboo to say in this business? Good. Then I know I’m getting back on the right track.

My heart was simply not in it. Nowhere even near it. It felt so vacuous it was practically choking me to death. And luckily you guys called me out on it. Reader Sarah wrote in and said, “What's the point of writing about something you don't care for or about? Next time, just skip it, and write about whatever interests you. Your columns are much more enjoyable when you do.” Exactly.

In addition to the Shoot, my duties at JoBlo have suffered. My duties at home have suffered. As such, my sex life has suffered. And THAT has to stop.

While a poontang embargo would certainly be enough to get my ass into action, that wasn’t the case here. The wife was more than supportive of my hectic schedule. Even the almighty Ryall was kind enough to say “nice column” when I know he and Kevin were secretly pinning my work up on their walls and shitting their pants in “at me”, not “with me,” laughter.

So there has to be some changes. At JoBlo, they’re in the process of hiring a junior-level writer and a LA correspondent to help ease the burden. The freelance work has been trimmed slightly (although to a limited degree because, after all, they put food in the babies’ mouths). And here at the Shoot, I’ll be cutting back too.

I’m not going THELMA & LOUISE off a cliff just yet but for now, I’ve just asked that I cut my responsibilities in half here, submitting a column every other Wednesday instead of weekly. That will, I hope, serve one purpose that will serve two goals:

The main purpose here is to give me some extra time. With that extra time, the two goals will then be to focus. FOCUS. Focus on a) being the family man I really should be and b) properly writing and researching my Shoot columns to improve their overall quality.

I have loved writing for the Shoot so far; a dream to be associated creatively with one of the guys who inspired me. Other than the schedule, nothing will change here unless Kevin wakes up one day and realizes he’s got a no-talent hack writing for his site. In that case, Jeff Wells will be gone and I’ll take over his duties. Ahhahaha…couldn’t resist a little light-hearted jab there.

It may seem like this column was a long drive for a short day at the beach, but I felt it had to come off my chest. I wanted to offer up some answers – not excuses – for what’s been going on and what’s coming up.

The next time you read this column, it hopefully won’t be too much different than it’s been in the past. I don’t plan on lapsing into the pretentious side of entertainment journalism, but I do hope to return the fun and love of movies back to this gig. I will admit I got derailed there for a bit. Now’s the carpe diem moment where I pick this train up, get it back on track and moving full-steam.

I do have a lot of exciting stuff coming up and the next column, theoretically appearing in two weeks, will be the first in a two-part saga detailing my trip out west for another top-secret mission (and the first meeting of the minds between yours truly and Dr. Ryall). Maybe eventually I’ll get that interview with Je---hey…I almost gave away the identity of my Greatest Interview Ever. There are some other, more detailed columns I’m working on that will, hopefully, be more than just inane ramblings about the behind-the-scenes gossip of [insert superhero movie here].

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a lullaby to sing.

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