DadCentric

Earth Day: Save the Planet, Save Yourself

Today is Earth Day.  Every day is Earth Day.  See how that works.  The bottom line is that we've pushed this poor planet about as far as it can go without serious repercussions.  More serious repercussions.

You don't have to be a hippie smelling of patchouli and  mushrooms to celebrate your planet.  Our planet.  Sure, showers are optional, but let's not be over dramatic. 

We've only got one planet and if we don't start living differently we're going to lose it.  I'm talking to you, big oil, but not just you.  We can all make a difference.  Don't let Earth become the next Pluto.

[thanks for the video idea Jason!]

Excuse me honey, but I need that toilet

I don't remember exactly when this pain in my lower back started. It might have been last week, it might have been three weeks ago, I'm just not sure. But it's been there a while. For the most part, the pain has been minor, more annoying than agonizing. Up to now, it's been content to just sit back there, constantly reminding me of its presence like a nagging little yip-yap dog that just dares you to dropkick it over the fence.

Only recently, that little dog has started to sound more like something you might find guarding a junkyard, or perhaps a secret chamber. I'm not immobile, but last night the pain that hit me was the closest thing I've ever felt to physical impairment. I never before quite understood what people meant when they talked about immobilizing back pain, but I have a slightly better idea now. I guess I'll stop pointing and laughing at those poor bastards.

The frustrating thing is that I can't quite pin the pain's origin on anything. I don't recall lifting anything unusually heavy or exerting myself anymore than normal. My son is Captain Independence these days, So I don't have to carry him long distances. I don't have a history of back pain. I was pondering all this the other night, trying to nail down when the pain started and what I could have done to cause it, when it occurred to me that what I've been feeling sounds like a remarkably similar albeit less severe version of what my pregnant wife has been complaining about. She's even going to the chiropractor next week at the behest of her midwife. To this thought, my inner detective proposed, "I say, Holmes, could it be sympathy pains?"

To which some other inner voice responded "Oh. Hell. No!" Something somewhere deep inside was really bothered by that idea. I'm not sure why exactly. I like to think my wife and I are in tune with one another, but not quite to that level. Maybe I saw it as threatening. Maybe it tripped the Unmanly Alarm. I keep meaning to adjust that stupid thing. Or maybe I didn't like the idea of all that weight gain.

But it kind of left me wondering, could it be? I seemed to recall reading about sympathy pains in one of those new dad books that I pored over during our first pregnancy. A quick pass through the google-matatron brought up some info to refresh my memory. The proper name is Couvade Syndrome, from the French word " couvee" meaning "to hatch." My extensive clicking reveals nothing conclusive, a few studies here, some research there, but nobody's quite sure what to attribute it to or if it even really  exists. Of course, I don't have any nausea or food cravings, so that's two of the more common symptoms right off the list. But if Couvade is what I've got, then it could be that I'm either trying to build empathy with the wife, subconsciously trying to balance out the gender roles, or I might just be an attention whore. Thus sayeth the internets.

So who knows. Hostile Insecure Inner-Voice Guy aside, my wife and I are both plodding around with very similar backaches. Maybe it's time to stop being such a guy about my health and go to the chiropractor.

DadMomCentric

As you may have heard by now, men having babies is all the rage.  It was only a matter of time before science quit worrying about such frivolous pursuits as cures for AIDS and cancer and concentrated on the real (relationship) killer of our time, pregnancy.

Women have unfairly had to do all of the hard work in regard to developing, and in my case, creating, new life.  Then they have been obligated to follow the process with 18-80 years of worrying and creative criticism, while men get off with, well, getting off.  Men have felt really guilty about this for a long time.

That is why we here at DadCentric have decided to bridge the gap.  We are opening ourselves up to you, the readers, to help us make amends.  One of our writers will undergo the proper procedure(s) to become fertile.  Which one?  That's where you come in.  Vote in the comments below.

There are links in the sidebar.  Check everyone out and decide which dad is man enough to get knocked up.  All it takes is your vote, a dash of science and 7 lemoncillos.  Anal sex is optional.

Data Dilemma

I have a deep-seated distrust of distaste for studies.  If you've been reading DadCentric long enough you probably know that already.  What?  You don't remember that post from August 2006?  Sheeesh.  I guess I shouldn't assume that, just because we slave away, investing our time and sweat on every post, you would remember every word to every one I submit.

I especially have a strong aversion to studies that leave a lot of wiggle room; that provide hope or dash it; or take advantage of a crisis or exploit the timing to publicize their findings.  I bring this up regarding a recent (September 2006) study done in Israel regarding paternal age and a correlation being drawn that older dads are more likely to father children with autism.  (Disclaimer: I am not a scientist, nor do I do research, this is purely from a layman's perspective and to be taken with a grain of salt or less.)  Now, to be fair, this study got a lot of play in September when it was released and was also tied in with a "men have biological clocks" meme.  The only reason I'm bringing it up now is because Jason received an e-mail from an individual providing his paper as a source of material from which to draw.  Again, to be fair, advanced paternal age has been a risk factor in other neurodevelopmental disorders, so it isn't a giant leap of faith to make these assumptions -- maternal age has been shown to increase the risk of Down's syndrome and has been associated with dyslexia, among other afflictions, so why shouldn't paternal age have some sort of impact?  Then again, does it?

My problem is with the weight placed on the findings in this study and the media hyping of those numbers and the media hyping of every bit of information that comes down the pike especially with regard to autism.  I interact with a significant autistic population and have relationships with several of the parents.  Again, I'm no scientist and my opinion is based solely on anecdotal information, but many of these parents were in their 20s and 30s when they had their children.  I have a relative who has two autistic children and he was in his late-20s/early-30s when they were born.  I'm not an expert in this realm by any stretch -- I only know what I see, what I read and what I learn from others far more knowledgeable than I.  Right now, autism is getting a lot of attention -- as it should (and should get more) -- and families are looking at every study, every piece of data...everything and anything to help them understand the root causes and provide them with some hope for a cure.  Had this study concluded that paternal age was a significant contributing factor in, say, migraine headaches, would those results have warranted such coverage?  I don't think so.  But, if your study is about autism in any way?  Boom, above the fold, 72pt., bold with drop shadow, regardless of the effect it might have on those families.

My point (if I ever even had one when I started this post) is that we need to be careful with the release of this sort of information.  Very little of it is ever conclusive and regardless of how pure the motivations are, no study is ever as "clean" as one would hope.  Hyping data is a disservice to those struggling to understand what is happening to their children.  Case in point: just this past weekend was a study released that indicated that autism may not be inherited after all.  Oops.  Kind of throws a wrench in the paternal age a bit, doesn't it?  What is conclusive is that we are looking at a very complex disease and researchers are only now beginning to understand just how complex it and how difficult to conquer it really will be.

Shot in the Arm

There appears to be a great controversy brewing.  No, it has nothing to do with which is more appropriate: chardonnay and pinot grigio or vodka martinis and cosmos at Friday's playdate?

Nope - lawmakers across the country are debating the merits of mandatory HPV vaccinations for girls, which, proponents claim, would k.o. the virus linked to cervical cancer.  The American Cancer Society estimates that approximately 11,500 women will develop invasive cervical cancer and about 3,600 will die from it.  The question whether or not to require the shots (three doses over 6 months at $120 a pop) heated up a week ago when Texas governor, Rick Perry, issued an executive order requiring the vaccine for 11- and 12-year-old girls (parents can opt out for reasons of conscience).  In that time, 18 other states have opened debate and are similarly considering legislation, though the measures have drawn the ire of anti-vaccine and religious conservative groups.

Clinical trials indicate the vaccine stymied infection with two strains of HPV that cause 70% of cervical cancers and two strains responsible for 90% or genital warts.  Research indicates that most cervical cancer occurs in adult women, however, the Centers for Disease Control recommend the injections be given before puberty (11- to 12-years old) or as young as 9-years-of-age.  Opponents argue that although the vaccine, Gardasil, is effective in preventing cancer and genital warts, the glaring difference between HPV and other diseases currently vaccinated against (HepA, HepB, DVT, etc) is that HPV is contracted in only one way: through sexual contact.  Conservatives and parents rights groups argue the requirement would encourage premarital sex and interfere with the way they raise their children.  This is all well and good, but since most people with genital HPV never know they have HPV, it is possible (and, in some respects, probable**) they will be infected at some point in their lives.

Where do you come down on this debate?  Should it be mandatory?  Should it be up to the parents in this case?

I'm not sure where I come down on this yet.  I don't like being told by the government or others how best to raise my children i.e. when to have certain conversations, whether or not I can spank, whether or not I can drink responsibly in front of my children.  As an adult and parent, I have the freedom and the responsibility to make these decisions on my own without interference.  Would I consider having my daughter vaccinated against it?  I would.  But it's also up to Mrs. Big Dubya as well.  And I don't think it should be up to some legislator to tell me I need to get my daughter vaccinated against a sexually transmitted disease.

So, maybe I do know where I come down on this.  Look at that.

**According to CDC Web site and info on HPV

We Are The Eggmen

It's never wise to put all of your eggs in one basket.   Any chicken can tell you that. 

Let's say you do though, and perhaps you don't want to chance that said eggs wind up poached.  Let's say you really want them scrambled.  Maybe with cheese melted on them.  No problem.  Just pull up to the omelet bar that is a PGD (preimplantation genetic diagnosis) clinic with a fistful of dollars and a pocketful of sperm and you too can play Dr. Moreau.

According to CNN, it is not just the questionable procedure of creating "perfect" babies that is sparking debate, but the slightly more questionable procedure of creating "flawed" babies.  Basically, you might want your omelet a little burnt, because a)you like it that way, and b)you're paying for it.  Sure, that might go over okay at brunch, but I can't imagine justifying the deliberate handicapping of an embryo so that Johnny can have a disability just like mommy and daddy.

Embryo screening, which can run about $15,000 per pop, is usually used to detect any abnoralities in a fetus, which if found is often aborted.  That pisses off enough people in its own right.  However, the possiblity exists that doctors could choose to fertilize an embryo with defects, should the parent request such a thing.

The examples that some consider as acceptable for tinkering are duplicating dwarfism and deafness.  I understand a parent wanting their child to be like them, but why would they deny said child an opportunity to have a healthier or fuller life?

There are many within the communities of dwarfism and deafness, and obviously others, that feel they are not disabled.  I respect that.  Roll with what you're given.  I applaud it.  However, I can't understand someone that cannot hear wishing the same upon someone they love.

For example, it's one thing to have known and seen everything about John Lennon, but wouldn't it be better to hear him than not?  We've all seen Mr. Holland's Opus.  Music isn't limited to the hearing, but man, it sure takes it further.

The best quote from the CNN article is attributed to Cara Reynolds of New Jersey, who considered embryo screening before deciding to adopt a dwarf baby.

"You cannot tell me that I cannot have a child who's going to look like me," said an outraged Reynolds.  "It's just unbelievably presumptuous and they're playing God."

Hello kettle, it's the pot.  You're black.

How is altering the natural act of egg fertilization the way God wanted it?  Just roll the chicken dice like everyone else.

Coo-Coo-Kachoo.

What does this mean for Goofy?

There are constants in this world we take for granted.  1+1=2.  Area=length*width.  A piece of toast, if dropped, will always land butter side down.  Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line.  And the Yankees suck.  All of my life, there have been nine planets.  Nine.  Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Neptune, Uranus (heh, heh, he said Uranus) and Pluto.  "What's the largest planet?  Jupiter."  "What's the smallest?  Pluto."  We all remember questions like this in elementary school when we learned all about our solar system.  Now what do we do?  How do I go about un-learning all that?  Don't get me wrong, it's not like I've been studying quantum theory for years and now just heard that Max Planck was actually wrong, which in turn essentially makes that whole realm of science a house of cards (look at me, the English major, oversimplifying a complex theory).  But, when things we've come to appreciate as never-changing are suddenly altered on such a grand scale, it is likely to shake us down to our foundations.  Or at the very least make us say, hmmmm.

Ok, it's really not about me or my foundations.  We need to think about the children!  I know if I were going into the fourth grade and my teacher said to the class, "Last year, Pluto was a planet.  This year?  Yeah, not so much," I might start being more suspicious of what these adults were telling me.  "So, the sky is blue because of Rayleigh scattering, huh?  Sure, ok.  Maybe it's just some guy with a really big paint brush, whaddaya think of that?"  Yes, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I think you get my point.  I just think we need to be more careful when we change what is generally accepted to be a fact.  Next thing you know, they'll tell us there's no Santa Claus, Easter Bunny or Tooth Fairy.

The Mumps' '06 Comeback Special

  Question for you all: when is a vacation not a vacation? Answer: when, two days into your trip to the beautiful Boca Raton Resort and Club, you're out having a nice lunch at an absolutely fantastic Cuban restaurant when you look at your kid and you notice that the entire right side of his face has swelled up to twice it's normal size, thus causing you to freak out and haul ass to the local hospital where four hours and one blood test later the doc tells you that your kid has somehow come down with a case of the mumps. Or as I referred to it, the "what the fuck? The mumps? The fucking mumps? Like what Bobby Brady had? Those mumps? Are you bullshitting me?!"

Yeah, I know what you're thinking - isn't this the same kid who has managed to pick up Kawasaki Disease, 5th Disease, and croup? Indeed, and yes, I'm now making a concerted effort to stop taking the Lord's name in vain, because Jesus H. Christo Con Queso golly, it just seems weird that he keeps picking up these bizarre viruses, like the kid is a two-year-old Job. So I decided to get all Quincy-like and do a bit of research. Turns out that there was actually a case of mumps here in San Diego several months ago; nothing on the scale of the Iowa outbreak. So who knows how he picked it up. Chances are he got it from some kid whose parents decided not to give their child their MMR. So now he's stuck at home for the next few days - even though he's looking and feeling much better, it's very contagious (well, duh), so no daycare for him.

A final note to the story: on the drive in to work this morning, 91X DJ Chris Cantore (new dad and genuinely nice guy, and yeah, he'd be a great pick for Dad O'The Week! Maybe we can make that happen. I'll have my people call his people.) and crew were discussing the topic of immunizing kids. I called into the station and gave my two cents to the good people of San Diego, and I'll say the same to the rest of you. Get the shots, people. 'Cause, really.

Try Explaining This To The TSA Screeners

Here at DadCentric, we take an irreverent look at the world of fatherhood. In these often troubled times, there are myriads of issues facing dads around the world, and even though we enjoy a good laugh as much as the next guy, certain issues and events evoke pathos and call for a bit of sensitivity on our parts. Part of me - and you can probably guess which part after reading the article - really feels for Charles "Chick" Lennon.

Chick. Buddy. Come on. (Sorry. Bad pun. Sorry.) At some point during the chat you had with your doctor about PUTTING A STEEL ROD IN YOUR PENIS, you didn't think to raise your hand and say, "Y'know, Doc, this all sounds good, but are there any potential issues that may arise from, you know, PUTTING A STEEL ROD IN MY PENIS?" Yes, it may have sounded cool - wonder if the guy's favorite X-Man is Wolverine? - but you don't mess with The Gear! You wait for pharmaceutical science to catch up to you!

Lennon took an extreme course of action in order to overcome his erectile dysfunction. (Here I pause to ask myself, "Jason, way back when you were the editor of your high school newspaper, did you ever think there'd come a time when you'd be writing the phrase "erectile dysfunction" in a story about a guy with an Erector Set in his schlong, a story that would be read by dozens of people around the world?" Top of the world, ma! Top of the world!) His tale is a sobering reminder of a darker time, when sex was only for the young and men like Rod Stewart and Michael Douglas and Larry King weren't able to become really, really old and creepy dads.

Manic Monday

If it's the first Monday of the month, it must be Study Release Day.  I'm not sure, but I'll bet if you go back and look at news cycles for the past year, you'll find that on the first Monday of the month, every non-profit research group will have released their findings on any number of subjects.  Today doesn't disappoint.

First they were accused of driving people to suicide.  Then studies found they can drive mild-mannered individuals to murder.  Other times they compel people to wear monochromatic turtlenecks and funny hats.  Now?  Just listening to music can cause teens to become sex-starved lunatics hell-bent on bedding anyone and everyone.  It's true.  That is, of course, if this most recent study is to be believed.  What say you, oh good DadCentric visitors?  Did you find yourself filled to the brim with raging hormones after hearing Relax?  How about when you listened to Sheena Easton coo about her Sugar Walls?  Well, I know you couldn't resist when Prince sang about Darling Nikki, Head or maybe Let's Pretend We're Married.  Who could?  Sex fiends.

Do you believe that wrestling is real?  Do you think that one wrestler jumping off the top rope and delivering an elbow to his opponent's throat only causes the recipient to moderately flail on the canvas?  How about one 275-lb. individual running full-speed into another 275-lb. individual and clotheslining that person?  No actual damage could occur, right?  Do you believe that (now forgive me if I date myself) people like The Undertaker, Shawn Michaels or Hulk Hogan are to be held up as role models?  That they should be considered good images of what a man should be?  Then you probably believe that watching wrestling is on par with home life, familial relationships, friends and other, more pertinent societal influences and a tendency toward violence.  Just a guess.

Did you know that over 20,000 children are treated in US emergency rooms every year for shopping cart-related injuries?  Do you know why?  Is it because these parents used faulty carts?  Nope.  Were they racing one another up and down the aisles?  Again, nope.  Maybe they were recreating some of their favorite sitcom moments?  So sorry, wrong again.  Most injuries occurred because the children weren't properly strapped in.  Big shocker there folks.  Solutions?  Differently designed carts that seat the child closer to the floor.  Others would offer "passive protection" meaning the parent or caregiver doesn't have to do anything to ensure the child's safety.  Heaven forbid the parent or adult be responsible for the child's safety.  What is this world coming to?

And don't get me started on the lawnmower injuries cited in that same Dr. Koop article.  Paging Captain Obvious.  Captain Obvious, call on line one.