FATHER’S DAY
Happy Father’s Day to all the dads who are with their kids or simply wishing they were! My wife and daughter took me to Benihana on the eve of the big day. Despite having been before, my daughter decided this time that she needed my protection from the onion volcano. The scene was a bit like the opening shot of BLADE RUNNER. Plumes of fire shot up into the air from multiple tables around the restaurant. My daughter had a reaction similar to Frankenstein running from the peasants’ torches. A cookies and cream milkshake arrived, and she was suddenly fine. Let the place burn.
Fatherhood is truly the most wonderful thing I’ve done with my life. I found myself contemplating this week the nature of being an older dad. I was 45 when my daughter was born and will be 48 when my son is born. And, you know…I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m able to live my youth all over again because I have no choice but to be youthful with children who still have their entire school years ahead of them. (It is quite remarkable to think back to spending time with my grandmother when she was 48.) I take care of my health better now than I ever did, and I work harder at achieving personal goals than I did before parenthood. Friends who knew me before tell me I appear calmer now. I guess so.
When it comes right down to it, fatherhood has given me time not wasted. I manage my writing time so much more effectively because there is only so many hours in the day one can write when a child is on the scene. Procrastination can mean skipping days of writing, which, in turn, can mean opportunities missed to hold onto your own identity that existed before you became “so and so’s daddy.”
One of the pitfalls of this newfound superhero status is that for a dad who can write a novel, change dirty diapers, write a screenplay, feed and bathe, design marketing materials, get the kids to school, take pitch meetings, negotiate bedtime, and still conduct some semblance of a social life beyond swing time at the park… you become intolerant of mismanaged time in others. “If I can be up three times in the night to heat up bottles, go for a run at 6.30am, answer ten lengthy emails by 9.00am, juggle three projects at once, take on extra work to afford the nanny, pick up other people’s slack and still give time to charitable causes… you can get your thumb out of your arse, sunshine, and do what you said you were going to do two weeks ago.”
Children also make one honest.
Before Parenthood: “Would you like to come to my show?” – “Where is it?” – “Santa Monica. Starts at 6pm.” – “That will only take me two hours to get there in rush hour traffic. The 405 isn’t anywhere near as bad as people let on.” (It’s worse.) – “Is it a comedy?” – “No. It’s a play about suicide.” – “Is there a bar?” – “No. The theatre couldn’t afford the license.” – “That’s okay, I would love to support you anyway.”
After Parenthood: “Would you like to come to my show?” – “Is there a bar?” – “No. The theatre couldn’t afford the license.” – “Fuck off.”