DadCentric

Movember - We'll Keep On Fighting 'Til The End

We've reached the last day of Movember. Thanks to everyone who donated to the cause - if you haven't, there's still a few hours left, so please go here and give a couple of bucks. Suffice it to say that we're all pretty sick of the mustaches. Here's were things stand as we reach the end:

Whit has an itchy nose.

The Didactic Pirate looks back.

Travis is over it.

Kevin...well, he posts a picture of Kim Kardashian in Oktoberfest garb, which is always welcome.

I ponder What It All Meant.

We're all looking forward to returning to our old 'stache-less selves. And through the magic of Computer Animation, after the break we offer a sneak peek of what we'll look like, just in case you forgot.

Stopping and Snowy Evenings

I've never gone to school with snow on the ground.

My oldest stood in front of the window looking across a sea of snowy white. He was in his pajamas and his hair was wild. He was tall, lanky and full of small wonders. 

I explained to him that due to slight variations in the geography of our area that he would indeed be walking to school in the snow, uphill, literally, both ways.  He watched it fall with a silent reverence, at his side a hole where his brother should be.

_______________

The cough had been a week in the making.  Our home was a choir and we had all come together for the chorus.  Slowly the youngest began to stand apart. The spotlight was his, and where we once all sang in unison he now powered on through a painful aria. We became the occasional hum and the extras posing in the background.

Every website, label and pharmacists said the same thing: don't give a 4-year-old cough syrup, do give the cough seven days before taking him to the doctor. Neither of which offered a favorable option. We spent our nights sleepless waiting for the calendar to catch up with our impatience.

This Thanksgiving, Let Indiana Jones Teach Your Kids Proper Table Manners

If you're concerned that your kids won't behave properly at the Thanksgiving table, well, hold on to your potatoes. Please watch this instructional film starring Professor Henry Jones, Jr. And remember - please, do not feed Indiana turkey bones, as they can splinter. What? Oh. We named the dog Indiana. Also, avoid the dates. They're bad.

 

(Via NYMag.com)

DadCentric Reviews: "Tangled"

When I heard that Disney was going to stop making Fairy Tale Movies, I thought, yeah, that makes sense. Because, really, they've all been done - at least the ones most of us are familiar with. Purists will be upset, but it should be noted that many of Disney's best movies - The Jungle Book, The Lion King, 101 Dalmations, to name a few - didn't come from the pages of Hans Christian Andersen or The Brothers Grimm. That well, it seems, has run dry (unless you're itching to see what Disney can do with The Princess and The Pea). And in this reviewer's opinion, Disney's last "princess movie", The Princess and The Frog, was an entertaining but maddeningly earnest attempt to recapture the old Disney magic.

So when the ads for Tangled first started appearing on TV, I thought it would be nothing more than a thrown together attempt to appease the 3-to-6-year-old girl crowd one last time. I was already anticipating the challenge of coming up with a hooky, flip, crass take on the movie - we tend to do that here. An attempt to make the story of Rapunzel and her Crystal Gayle-falls-into-a-vat-of-radioactive-Rogaine-length hair hip and modern? Other than Rapunzel letting down her hair to pull folks up into her tower, does anyone really remember what that B-list story was even about? Why was she stuck in the tower? Wasn't she supposed to be spinning straw into gold, or something? Was there a wolf? There's always a wolf, right?

Movember Update! Waxing Poetic, Not Mustaches

Movember! We are in the home stretch: a week and a coupla days and Movember will be a distant, itchy, soup-encrusted memory. First, the obligatory reminder: please go to our Movember page and give what you can (and ya know, it'd be cool if we could reach the $2000 mark). Because while we look sorta ridiculous, in a ruggedly handsome Merchant Marine sailor kind of way, there's nothing funny about prostate cancer. (Except this.) Speaking of looking ridiculous, here's where we're at, facial hair-wise:

The Didactic Pirate, looking like he could totally be holed up in a cabin in Idaho, riding out the Zombie Holocaust. 

Homemaker Man, looking all sparkly.

The Holmes...well, he doesn't have a recent pic, but he has a new fan: Neil Himself. 

Kevin, who looks dapper.

Me, looking like I should be hunched over a trashcan fire.

More Facial Follicle Fun can be found on our Facebook page. 

It's A Man Thing

I knew something was up when my boys kept asking me to bend down.

"Dad, can you tie my shoes?" asked my 7-year-old.

"Dad, can you pick that book up off the floor?" said my 10-year-old.

This went on for an entire weekend. I'd see them glaring at me with their eyes every time I'd kneel down, bend over or even get into the car.

Then my 10-year-old turned to his younger brother and said, "It's a man thing."

"What's a man thing? " I asked.

And that's when my 10-year-old straddle his legs over a stray shoe and gently slid his pants legs up his thighs as he bent over.

"That's a man thing Dad," he said. "I've seen my coach do it and even my teacher."

It's such an innocuous gesture, yet one that I now can't help thinking about every time I do it. 

 

Parent-Teacher Conference: The View From the Short Chair

I'm sitting in a tiny red plastic chair designed for a 4th grader.  It's like trying to get comfortable inside a yogurt spoon.

Parent-Teacher Conference.  These meetings aren't supposed to be emotional roller coasters.  And yet:

"So," Ms. S says, flipping through a folder with my daughter's name on it, preparing to dive in to a peppy discussion of my daughter's performance so far this year.  I haven't gotten to know Ms. S that well yet.  At this point, I know that she's young, smart and enthusiastic; and my whole goal for this conference is to please her.  It's very important that I be her favorite parent in the class.  So much so that I'm actually a little nervous in this moment.  Because obviously, none of this is about my daughter at all.  It's about me.

Flop Sweat

Our pick-up and drop-off area--the one for my daughter's class at her pre-school-- is always cold, always windy; even on warm days. It's a corridor of concrete and chain link fence and aluminum siding. Squeezed between a large multi-family house and the school itself, sunlight is an afterthought.

We stand and wait in this little wind tunnel, making small talk with the mostly mom populated group.  I listen to the Peanut when she talks.  Note the names she mentions most often.  Match those names to the kids.  The kids to the parents.  

Playdate targets identified.  Gonna get our friendship on. 

As we wait for the Peanut in the afternoons, I hatch Operation Charming Bastards. The Pman is wildly handsome and a hell of an entertainer and I'm pretty personable, so I work the angles. Send the Pman out to flash his smile and do a funny little soft shoe as I lay down the friendly chitchat. 

It goes well. I really think it goes well. I think all I'll have to do is say the word "playdate" and the Peanut's social calendar'll fill up like her stocking on Christmas day.

I forgot one little thing:  My penis.  

You're Not a Whore if It's for Charity

Ladies, do you wish you could do more to support Team DadCentric in it's Movember effort to grow mustaches to raise awareness about men's health issues? Is the weak economy making it impossible for you to donate to our fund to fight prostate and testicular cancer?

Well, today -- November 18, 2010 -- you can show your support for us and our cause in a more personal and tangible way.

The fine folks at Asylum.com have come up with the women's answer for Movember by declaring this to be "Have Sex With a Guy With a Mustache Day"!

Just please, before you act, get permission from our wives.

In writing.

And bearing a notary's stamp.

"The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader" and Other Musings

There are truths in this world that I've always accepted as such -- truths that may describe me, but do not define me. For instance, I don't like fish, I look terrible with a mustache, and my religious affiliation would be best described as agnostic. These are the things I am confident in.

And so it was that I found myself, and my facial hair, discussing Christianity in film over a plate of tuna tartare. Also, lots of wine.
 

It was dinner at the Hotel Sofitel in Los Angeles. I was with a group of "parent bloggers" (meaning a bunch of moms and me) and we were the guests of 20th Century Fox, which was nice. Incredible, really. We were in town to learn about the latest edition to the Narnia series, The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.

We had just seen a partial screening. Hence, the conversation (and plate of raw fish). Hence, the broadening of my horizons.