What The Hell, Dad?

Oh, hi.
Didn’t see you there.
So, yeah. WHAT the Hell?
No, not just another blog. Okay, it is a blog, but my hope is that you’ll soon see how this one is different.There are precisely 55,046,993 ‘mommy blogs’ out there and approximately 883 dad blogs. Most of all these parenting blogs are about ‘navigating the uncharted waters of parenthood’ or ‘I’m going to put my son’s iPhone into my gorgeous new Vitamix Pro 750 Heritage 1.89L 1440-Watt Countertop Blender’.
Sigh. I feel those topics are eventual and inevitable.

Well, then, jerkface, what’s a dang-diddly Dad Rock Dad and what’s your dumb blog about?
‘Dad rock’ generally is defined as rock music from the late 60s to around the late 80s. You know, stuff YOUR dad would like. Facemelting guitar solos, belted vocals with thinly veiled lyrics about sex with multiple partners, black boots, I dunno. While there are bands and songs from those years that yes, I do enjoy, ‘dad rock‘ to me, also describes all the current, modern bands, whose members are dads as well. Is Dave Grohl the king of us dad rockers? Possibly, I’m still too low-level to have gotten the secret neck tattoo much less been introduced to our leader. There’s also a lot of dads out there to whom Dad Rock Dad music appeals. I feel bad for all the kids who will grow up mumbling moodily because their dads played The National all the time.

Here’s my definition of a Dad Rock Dad.

Dad Rock Dads still go see club shows but now wear earplugs. They spend more time putting together a playlist for a brunch they’re hosting than the actual duration of the brunch. Their go-to uniform is a hoodie and jeans, whenever possible, but have no problem sliding on a jacket and tie or wearing socks and Crocs, because they’re punk as fuck. Dad Rock Dads may invest more in their home stereo systems than their retirement savings or just know how to make an old iPod and computer speakers sound good. They’ll listen to High on Fire with headphones on, The Pogues with their friends and Taylor Swift with their kids. They may have a late one jamming with their going-nowhere band but still get up the next day to whip up some pancakes for the little pant-fillers. Dad Rock Dads give a shit, about people, animals and the planet because that’s what Joe Strummer, Bob Marley, Rage Against The Machine and Public Enemy taught them. They’ll skip the overpriced concert ticket because daycare fees went up again. I can keep adding items to this list of definitions, but maybe I will, maybe I’ll leave that up to you.

In terms of what I’m going to write about, I’ll go with the easy stuff, parenting, family, marriage, life, social action (you know, easy stuff), music, funny crap, food, thoughts off the top of my head, things that are neat (to be precise), experiences, city life with and without loin fruit in tow. I’m sure it’ll evolve, that may be the only thing I’m sure of. I won’t write down here who I am, there’s a page for that if you care. But I hope that by reading all this, it’ll show who I am without reading an about page.

I also want this to be a dialogue, maybe a place to hang out. If anyone is reading this glop, I’d love to hear from you. I don’t want to be typing into the vacuum of space in a single-sided social document. I want to know about you and your life – dads, moms, kids, grandparents, assassins, mycologists, non-corporeal essences, navel oranges, ponchos, publically-shamed former mayors (to be precise). Anyone who is interested in talking.
I don’t know how much I have to teach, but I know I have unlimited space to learn.

I want to hear what you have to say.