Dumb Musings in Advance of Father's Day
You know what a teenager needs; especially a teenage boy? Parental supervision. Cause if he didn’t have it, that boy would be a straight savage. What is the first thing you did when your parents left town for the wknd? Something naughty.
7th or 8th grade, I don’t remember. Late 90’s, dial-up internet. I had no idea how to use it and good god was it slow. My parents went somewhere for a week. Maybe Europe. No clue – irrelevant. Within an hour of them leaving I was in front of the computer, hand down my pants. As you all know, I still have no idea how to use the internet and I certainly didn’t back in 1998. My AOL search of “breasts” and “Carmen Electra naked” yielded about a thousand pop-ups but no breasts. The internet wasn’t like it is today. Today, these kids type in “Rod Stewart” into Google cause they’re doing research for their music history class. Unfortunately, the first five search results are Stewart’s gigantic rod. Any reference to Maggie May is 6th at best. Back then though, you had to be a computer science major to navigate through the bullshit and find those damn titties! When my old man returned from Europe (or wherever) I remember the terror when I heard him turn on the computer. I knew that thing would rat me out. Within minutes he came to my room and yelled: “If you’re gonna deface my computer, learn how to use the internet!” He must have battled pop-ups for months. To rub salt in the wound, the phone company then sent him a $30 bill from the island nation of Vanuatu (it’s east of New Zealand – just an FYI). Apparently in my quest to see Carmen or Trish Stratus or some other lady that was sexy 20 years ago, I had agreed to dial Vanuatu at the reasonable rate of $15 a minute. Savage
High School: I played lots of sports and always had a job. The Pizza joint, the dog walking gig, the ice cream joint, etc. But eventually, I quit sports and discovered the wonders of booze and nugget. I had to keep my jobs to pay for my new hobbies but maintaining them became a challenge. You know what’s the worst job in the world for a stoner to have? Working at an ice cream joint. No. Not because I ate all the product, you presumptuous amateurs. Rather, cause your short-term memory is Fucked! “I want a cake cone with two scoops of mint chocolate chip and rainbow sprinkles.” I would nod in agreement but by the time I turned around to get the cone……………… “Wait, wait, what do you want again? A smoothie?” Fuck.
I feel like, in a lesser way, serious relationships and marriage have a similar effect. We can get a good job and prosper on our own, but without a lady to keep us in check, we’d still be sleeping on our air mattress from college with few other furnishings except for a massive Bose speaker, a coffee table and a nice TV. Jars of weed and ashtrays littering the joint. Nothing but condiments and beer in the refrigerator.
More importantly than all that though, with Father’s Day not too far away, I want to tip my hat to my readers (both the fathers and the four ladies that read this) that have babies or young kids. The kids are cute and innocent for now, but soon enough they’ll think they’re smarter than you and more unique. Their/your car will be full of lighters and Visine but no cigarettes. They’ll come home at 3 AM and smash all of your leftovers with their crystal clear eyes and claim that everything is cool. They’ll tell you that they haven’t been drinking but you’ll smell that MD 20/20 Orange Jubilee on their breath before they even walk in. They’ll tell you that they didn’t throw a party while you were gone except, they’ll have forgotten to clean up a few empties behind the houseplant.
You guys will do great though and will keep them from becoming wild monsters, just like our folks did for us. When they turn 22, they’ll finally appreciate it. In the meantime, my uninformed recommendation to you: When they become teenagers, take them out drinking with you and show them how it’s really done. A night of puking on your lawn while you laugh at them will promptly re-establish who is boss and reinforce their amateur status. Make sure to blast some of Rod’s greatest hits while they’re on all fours, that will make the hazing complete.