ABC 20/20′s “D Is For Dad And Dumb” Segment

June 15, 2013 at 11:07 pm , by 

2 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

I take so much joy in spotlighting examples of dads being positively portrayed in the media. Not too long ago, I mentioned the Robinsons “Pals” commercial. This week, I promoted the Sears “Not A Superhero” ad, as well.

It’s a rewarding thing after three years of being a daddy blogger, to see examples in the media of those who get it:

Dads don’t appreciate being represented as idiots who need to learn to behave and be better role models for their children.

Sadly, though, there are still media outlets trying to capitalize on the “Al Bundy” version of dad, in what I assume is a desperate (and subliminal) attempt to relate to the females viewers, who traditionally have more buying power than men.

Last night after Mommy and I put you to bed, we vegged out to ABC’s 20/20. At the end of the episode, there was a segment called “D Is For Dad And Dumb.”

Wow, just in time for Father’s Day.

The segment featured dads caught on video, putting their child in harm’s way, or at least embarrassing them for the world to see. Right now, on ABC’s website, you can not only watch the clip, but also read the transcript from it.

In a generic disclaimer, the segment ended with the narrator proclaiming this: “Now we should say not all of the caught-on-tape moments involving dads are negative. Let’s wrap up with this thing up with clip from a father letting it all go. He’s become known as the “dancing dad” on the internet…”.

That’s right. Not all dads do bad things. Because the rest of us are just plain goofy, evidently. Dads either can’t be trusted or we’re simply clowns.

Let me remind you again of the name of the segment: ”D Is For Dad And Dumb.”

Nothing subtle about that. Unsurprisingly, here’s the closing line of the segment:

“So [the] bottom-line message to dads on this father’s day seems to be, don’t be an idiot. Don’t be an idiot, think about what you’re doing…”.

Okay, the question is this: Am I personally offended by 20/20′s “D Is For Dad And Dumb” segment?

No.

The answer is no, because I am a mature man who doesn’t let TV networks have power over me. If I valued their opinion of dads so much it hurt my feelings, then I probably wouldn’t be man enough to wear hot pink pants.

I’m not angry, but I am disappointed. (Classic dad line.)

If I were to mention on Facebook that I oppose gay marriage, which I don’t, I would most likely be called a bigot within 20 seconds. However, it’s acceptable in media for good dads to be lumped in with the worst examples of fathers and no one raises a fuss.

I doubt anyone from ABC is reading this, but here is what I propose: Do a segment on 20/20 about how dads are tired of being  portrayed as classic idiots. Show that the modern dad is very involved, caring, and is a proper role model.

Interview me. Let me explain it on national TV how a normal dad feels about the way I am stereotyped. It could be a segment called “D is For Dad and Dignified.”

If not, I’ll stick with the satisfaction of knowing my son and my wife think I’m a good dad; no disclaimers required.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

Photo credit: Businessman sat an a chair, via Shutterstock.

Decoding My Child’s Version Of The English Language

June 15, 2013 at 9:40 pm , by 

2 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

One of the most noteworthy things about seeing you grow up right now, in this phase of your life, is the way you’re experimenting with your speaking abilities.

We’ve been taking advantage of our family zoo pass by going every single weekend since we bought it about a month ago. In the process, I learned what a hot potato is.

“Look at that hot potato!” you would exclaim, referring to the climbable statue in the zoo’s playground.

I realized that in your version of the English language, a hippopotamus is a hot potato.

My mind went back to the year 1988 as you preceded to “feed” the “hot potato” some mulch.

Apparently, I was witnessing the live version of the board game “Hungry, Hungry Hippos.”

Of course, “hot potatoes” aren’t the only thing I have to remember to immediately translate in my mind.

When Mommy makes you Annie’s Homegrown macaroni and cheese for dinner, you always ask her to put “black cheese” on it.

Any guesses as to what that means?

Pepper. Black pepper is “black cheese.”

One of my favorite phrases of yours is a “regular bar.”

We have so many different types of organic fruit strip snacks we keep in the pantry, that’s how you have been identifying and differentiating fig bars.

Somehow the fact they have a whole wheat coating around them makes them “regular.”

“Mommy, I have a regular bar?” That’s the kind of thing I would overhear you ask Mommy.

Finally, I had to finally ask Mommy what that meant.

She explained they are the Nature’s Bakerybrand (non-GMO verified) version of Fig Newtons.

So there you have it…

Hot potatoes are hippopotamuses.

Black cheese is black pepper.

And regular bars are fig bars.

It has just now occurred to me that really, only Mommy and I understand your version of the English language.

Even then, we’re still decoding what you say every day.

 

Love,

Daddy

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A Matching Father And Son White Fedoras Kind Of Day

June 15, 2013 at 8:22 pm , by 

2 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

Last Friday, like most uber masculine dads in America, I randomly felt compelled to wear my hot pink pants and white leather dress shoes to work.

And it should go without saying that you can’t be caught wearing hot pink Polo pants from the clearance rack at TJ Maxx without sporting an equally 1985-esque white fedora.

Well, one thing led to another, and sure enough, you wouldn’t let me leave the house that morning without running upstairs to grab your white fedora to match Daddy.

I should have known that when a father and son leave the house wearing matching white fedoras, something magical is bound to happen.

It has been our tradition that on Friday afternoons, I take a late lunch break, waiting until you’ve woken up from your nap, to pick you up from daycare and take you somewhere adventurous, like the nearby park.

However, this particular Friday, a guy in the office next to mine won some kind of contest where he had the Budweiser Clydesdales deliver him two cases of beer.

Interestingly enough, this happened right as it was time to pick you up. So instead of going to the park, I took you back to my office to see the giant horsies.

Granted, I had already changed out of my Miami Vice costume into my work-out clothes (a classy Smurfs t-shirt and an oversized pair of faded cargo shorts from 25 pounds ago) and in hindsight, I see that you may have been wearing your fedora backwards the whole time, but hey, we got our pictures made with the Clydesdales!

We even got the meet the Budweiser Dalmatian.

So lesson learned. Whenever your Daddy feels like being random and wearing hot pink pants and a white fedora, just roll with it.

Because something cool is surely about to happen…

 

Love,

Daddy

 

 

 

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The Thought Of You Not Being Here Anymore

June 15, 2013 at 2:42 pm , by 

2 years, 6 months.

Dear Jack,

This week after uploading the most recent content from my digital camera to my flash drive, then editing those files, then deleting all those pictures and videos on the camera immediately afterwards, I experienced a dose of panic and anxiety I haven’t known since maybe 7th grade.

I could not find the video of you riding your fire truck you made of pillows!

Mommy and I were so proud of your performance, yet it was nowhere to be found.

How would I tell Mommy what I did? Should I just not bring it up until she asked about it?

I always feared this happening; deleting one of your pictures or videos before actually saving it.

After searching for 20 minutes in a state of constricted breathing and a gnarly adrenaline rush, I realized that the thumbnail for the video was not the one I was looking for.

In other words, I had not deleted your prized fire fighter performance. And of course, now it’s safely saved and featured on YouTube.

I don’t know, maybe that video clip isn’t really all that funny or cute to the whole world, but to Mommy and me, it’s priceless.

To think had I actually deleted that file, the very best thing I could have done was try to get you to re-create what you did in the video that day, but I could never actually access the original again.

Subconsciously, my mind started to process the thought of actually losing you; not simply just that video of you.

My subconscious, I’m convinced, is much more aware of deep emotional hurt and sadness than the conscious part of my brain. The door of that room inside my head was unlocked and I began to catch a glimpse of hell.

I began feeling this heaviness and emptiness that I couldn’t even begin to understand.

In that moment, I felt so alone and lost and exiled.

It felt like I lost you.

I never want to feel that way again.

 

Love,

Daddy

 

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2 And A Half Year-Old Fails Driver’s Test

June 13, 2013 at 9:57 pm , by 

2 years, 6 month.

Dear Jack,

I’m sorry to break it to you, but it will still be another 13 years or so before you are able to get your driver’s license.

Mommy and I decided to test you early for your driver’s license, using a fire truck you built out of couch pillows while we were making dinner.

The part of the test you did extremely well on was part where you prepared to drive.

You very meticulously (and cheerfully) put on your seat belt.

However, you didn’t do so hot once you started up the fire truck: You pretty much immediately crashed.

All that safety preparation for nothing… Well, no, actually it balanced things out I guess. I’ll let you decided for yourself- here’s a video  clip of the event:

I’m still trying to figure out why you had to “start the fire” at the back of the truck before buckling yourself in.

Two theories:

Either you A) were starting a fire on the fire truck itself so you could put it out with itself or B) you were starting the fire truck, which for some reason the ignition was at the back of the vehicle.

Another thing I’m confused about is why you named your toy fire truck “Mater” and why you had to go get him to help you after you evidently crashed your pillow fire truck in the garage.

I am seeking logical answers, please.

Love,

Daddy