Tag Archives: Craig Shoemaker

The Wrong Fit

As a frequent traveler and enthusiastic diner, one would think my immediate inquiry upon checking into a hotel would be to ask about their workout facilities. Most people I work with rank it as the highest priority in required amenities. Not me. I used to joke in my comedy routine that I “work out once a year…January 2nd, when I join a new club.” As with most humor, there’s much truth in this. I’ve signed up for countless fitness clubs, usually after a well-intentioned New Year’s Resolution, and I swear every time it will be a regular commitment, only to fade away and never be seen on their ... [Read More]

Missing Peaches in Georgia

Playing golf along with Richard Kind at Sherwood

I don’t watch much televised golf. If I am going to take four hours away from my family, I’d better be the one playing, not spending my day rooting for a player I had never heard of, just because I can pronounce his name. This year, a guy named Bubba won the Masters, much to my delight, since the runner up was something like “Oozeelederhosen.” There’s just something alluring about the Masters. I’m not sure whether it’s the pristine and historic golf course they refer to every five seconds, or the half dozen regally sounding British announcers making it seem like you are on a museum tour ... [Read More]

Northern Comfort

  Spiderman’s uncle once noted that “with great wisdom comes great responsibility.” It can also rightly be said that with great age comes great girth. I've put on some pounds. If I’m mowing my lawn, you can spot me on Google Earth. Even my wife, who is the kindest and most gentle person I have ever met said, “Wow Craig, you sure can put on weight fast.” I don’t believe it was a compliment. In show business I have my picture taken often, so I’d prefer to be less conscious of getting caught in the candid shot, where I am not doing the suck-in belly pose. I am surely smiling ... [Read More]

Trip to Generation Gap

Craig Shoemaker and Family

I just finished a minivancation with my wife and three sons. After a few hours of road monotony in the loser cruiser and running out of "I spy with my little eyes," the kids started displaying their various forms of cranky and I began to turn into an old codger. The more miles we went, the more I realized how many miles are on me. As much as I think I'm hip, I'm shot down by my middle schooler telling me how un-hip I am, and that actually using the word "hip" is also un-hip. I use the phrase "in my day" with them too. I ... [Read More]