First, put on a Depends and go here.
Making the transition from America's Greatest Living Writer to America's Most Beloved Father Figure would be a tall order for most mortals. Not Neal Pollack. Author of Never Mind the Pollacks: A Rock and Rock Novel, The Neal Pollack Anthology of American Literature, a shitload of great articles, essays, and other works, and the forthcoming memoir Alternadad (due this fall), his writings about being a dad are brutally funny and brutally honest. Neal took some time out of his busy schedule to answer a few of my questions. And yes, I'm comfortable enough with my own sexuality to admit that I have a hetero man-crush on him.
I'll be honest – the last time I interviewed someone "for reals", I was a senior in high school, co-editor of our school paper, and my subject was our varsity football coach (nice man, wore velour shirts every day, as I recall). So I figured I oughta do some research so as not to come off looking like a complete hack. Going through The Maelstrom's archives, I was struck by your 12/31/05 post, which featured a bit of hate mail sent by a "fan" who is apparently upset that you've opted to write about your life as a dad. Are you worried that you're going to lose those readers who are still looking for America's Greatest Living Writer?
It's my hope that anyone who likes my work will evolve (or devolve) along with me, but I can't speak for people's tastes. I'll probably lose a few readers, but I think I'll gain a lot more.
You're a relatively new Los Angeleno. My wife's from the Valley so we spend lots of time there. L.A. has its pollution, traffic nightmares, high crime, a huge chunk of the population living below the poverty line, and a seething undercurrent of racial and socio-economic tension. On the other hand, the shawarma is fantastic. Did you have any concerns about raising Elijah there?
What you say about L.A. is true. But L.A. is also a great place to raise a kid. Elijah loves it here. We have family memberships at the Aquarium Of The Pacific in Long Beach, at the Kidspace Museum in Pasadena, and at the L.A. Zoo. Griffith Park, 10 minutes from our house, features pony rides, three separate trains for kids, a toy-train museum, and a carousel that Walt Disney designed as a precursor to Disneyland rides. My kid doesn't even know Disneyland exists yet, and I plan to keep it that way as long as possible, but when he does discover the Magic Kingdom, that will be another tasty treat for him. And I haven't even mentioned the beach yet. Or Dodger Stadium. As far as Elijah is concerned, L.A. is a place where he can ride ponies, pet stingrays, serve meals at a "bug restaurant," and watch sea lions through binoculars from a Malibu promontory. The hungry coyotes, seven-car pileups, drive-bys, and coming catastrophic earthquake don't occur to him. Also, he goes to a great preschool. Besides, Beck grew up in L.A. Beck is still pretty cool, isn't he?
Debates rage across the spectra of parenting blogs: to spank or not to spank, to homeschool or not to homeschool, to breastfeed or not to breastfeed. People get pretty uptight and judgmental about this stuff, especially when it comes to bloggers who paint a realistic picture of parenting; why do you suppose that is?
I think all parents, myself included, feel insecure about their status. It comes naturally with parenthood, particularly contemporary parenthood, which is rootless and often far away from family support. Because parenthood can be isolating, and because the internet is there, people lash out defensively. It's sad, actually, because now more than ever, families need to present a united front, differences about discipline or nutrition aside. When I was growing up, a middle-class American family was more or less guaranteed a reasonably good eduction for the kids, an affordable house in a safe neighborhood, and doctor visits that didn't send you into bankruptcy. That's not the case anymore. If we all focused our energy on the stuff that mattered, and not on attacking people because they attachment parent (or because they don't), then I think we'd be a lot better off. I'm not calling for some sort of political movement, but I wish families realized that they have a great common interest as a political class.
How did you prepare yourself for Elijah's birth? What were you reading, watching, and/or injesting?
At the time, I was writing Never Mind The Pollacks, so I was reading a lot of crappy rock criticism. I was also in a noir phase, devouring lots of Jim Thompson, Patricia Highsmith, Chester Himes, David Goodis, and other great novelists of the noir era. As far as watching, it was the usual mix of professional baseball and HBO series on DVD. Also, that was the time when we were still watching reality TV. Hard to believe that seemed fresh to us, but it did. And as for ingesting, well, I'm not much of a drinker, but my penchant for marijuana consumption is well-advertised. Having a pregnant wife did nothing to change that. I also had one weekend in New York where I consumed more than marijuana, but I bumped my head on an overhang and stared wide-eyed at the ceiling all night, grinding my teeth. So it was back to the vaporizer for me.
I'm geeking out over Alternadad. Given that parenting blogs and literature are almost exclusively written by and for mothers, were there any challenges in getting a book deal?
Not once I wrote the proposal. Parenting books can sometimes sell a lot of copies, and I guess I have a semi-fresh take on the subject. However, my agent had to draw and quarter me in order to get me to write Alternadad. My other project was a novel making fun of historical novels about New York. There were some funny bits, to be sure, but it was mostly crap. When Chris Elliot beats you to the literary punch, you know it's time to change topic. And I'm glad I did. Writing about being a dad as been almost as much fun as being a dad itself.
Tragically, my only musical memory from my toddler years was Peter, Paul and Mary's album Peter, Paul and Mommy. Happily, my kid loves Kings of Leon, NWA and the Pixies, so no genetic harm done. What were you listening to when you were three?
My father owned one record: The Army Marching Band playing And The Caissons Go Rolling Along. Also, there were a lot of original Broadway cast recordings around, and a Beach Boys record or two. There was also a copy of Let It Bleed, but it never left its wrapping, to the point where, when I opened it upon the eve of going to college, I found a 20-year-old Rolling Stones poster, which I then proceeded to destroy by sticking it to my dorm-room wall with masking tape. So to answer your question: I wasn't listening to anything, and it took me 30 years to catch up.
Clearly your child is destined for greatness. Is Elijah the next Basketball Jesus, the next Alex Chilton, or – dare I suggest it – the next Neal Pollack?
My parents say that because I'm such a goddamn freak that my son will end up being a "Republican engineer," as though that nonsense phrase is going to mean anything during the age of the global-warming-produced giant spiders that will rule the earth by the time Elijah is an adult. If for some reason that apocalyptic scenario doesn't come to pass, I think that he'll end up being some kind of weirdo. There's a girl in Elijah's preschool class who says she wants to start a band with him. Nothing would make me happier, and Elijah is also showing some interest in basketball over all other sports. But he says that when he grows up he wants to be "the man who feeds the polar bears and the stinky penguins." That would be fine with me. In fact, I'll love him no matter what he becomes. If he's happy, I'm happy. And I mean that with all my heart.
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