Five Song Friday: The First Rule of Dad Club
Episode #117: Kidney Punches, Antiquated Gender Ideas and Dirtbag Chic
So I hear you’re going to be a father.
That’s great news. Congratulations.
On behalf of all of us, welcome to the club.
I’d offer you a seat, but as you can see, we ran out of chairs a long time ago.
This is a standing meeting.
If you want a seat, you have to wait for one of the old guys to die.
Even then, good luck with that.
There are guys here who know how to fight and they want that recliner much more than you.
It can get rough. I’ve seen more gouged eyeballs and broken noses than I can remember.
I once saw a man ripped in half like a phone book.
Nothing personal. Some guys just really need to sit.
Give it about 17 years and you’ll see what I mean.
Anyway, where were we?
Fatherhood. Big, big deal. HUGE.
We have a standard opening question around here…
“What were you thinking?”
Now, your first instinct may be to nervously laugh and wait for us all to start laughing too.
That’s natural. But we’re serious.
“What were you thinking?”
Before you answer, can I take a few guesses?
You weren’t.
(I know I said “a few,” but I was kidding, I only needed one guess.)
You weren’t thinking.
Because if you were, you would have stopped for a fraction of a fraction of a second and considered your fate.
You would have jerked the wheel instead of plunging over that cliff like some kind of horny and delusional Thelma (or Louise).
You would have yanked yourself back from the abyss, dusted off your trousers and sobered up enough to look down and say, “Good Lord, that was close!”
But you didn’t, did you?
You pulled the trigger, blew up the Death Star and now you’re a daddy.
Huzzah.
I’m here to welcome you to the club.
You can’t tell by looking at my expression, but I’m happy that you’re here. We all are.
I know we all look tired and angry and miserable, but that’s just our regular faces.
You’ll see.
As far as the club, here’s what you need to know…
We meet every single day and attendance is mandatory.
The club’s secret handshake is a punch in the nuts.
There are no snacks. We share one bathroom. We all have to take out the garbage.
Rather than fight over who controls the TV, we play Die Hard on a loop.
And when “Baba O’Reilly” comes on the speakers, you air drum or else it’s secret handshakes from everybody.
That’s about it.
As far as what we do here in the club?
Nothing. We do NOTHING.
This place may not look like much, but it’s our sacred space. Our sanctuary.
I get that it’s scary. Intimidating. Slightly depressing.
Everybody feels that way at first.
The bad news is that gets much, much worse.
The good news?
I lied about the snacks.
Five Song Friday #117
“Float Up” - Galactic
“When they go low, we go high.” Remember that one? Good times. Don’t see much taking of the high road these days. It’s more of a low-blow fest. Groin kicks and kidney punches all the doo-dah day. They bring a knife, you flash a gun. They send one of yours to the hospital? You send one of theirs to the MORGUE! That’s right! Where the DEAD PEOPLE live! Thanks (Michelle) Obama!
“Ron Rich Vs Jump Off” - Shark Tank
The best part of every aquarium is the shark tank. Most of the other stuff is just to keep people busy until they find their way to the makos, tigers and hammerheads. Do I want to hold a starfish? Hell no. An accurate replica of a local estuary environment? No thank you. I’m here to get my shark on. If you really want to help, point me in the direction of the apex predators and stop trying to get me to give a shit about sea sponges and tide charts.
“My Whispers Are Wildfire” - Ida Mae
A husband and wife making music together? Who ever heard of such a thing? Don’t let that football guy with his antiquated gender ideas hear about this or else he’s going to make a real stink! Unless of course, the woman’s contribution to the band is the rhythmical banging of pots and pans in the kitchen as she’s cleaning them. In that case, Misogynist Football Guy approves! Rock on, Ida Mae.
“I Miss You” - Freschard
Sometimes when I daydream that I’m the Julie Delpy character from Before Sunrise, this is the song that goes through my head. I’m not a French lady, but this is how I imagine one of them would feel after spending so much time with Ethan Hawke, only to have him leave. I would miss his goatee. I would miss his greasy hair. I would miss the feeling of his eyes on me when I look away. But most of all I would miss that sweet leather jacket. So 1995 dirtbag chic!
“Accounting” - Mik Pyro
Alright. Okay. Huh. Yeah. Dude. Bro. Seriously? Okay. I… wow. Wait, what? Really? Okay. Damn. Let me hear that again.
“I am going to put myself to sleep now for a bit longer than usual. Call it Eternity.” - Jerzy Kosiński (Born June 14, 1933)
Thanks for reading!
Sincerely,
DJ CrankyPete