Wanna hear my favorite teenaged drinking story? Of course you do. So: high school, my senior year, I'm one of the few people in my circle of friends who has his "own" car. (It was a used Pontiac Phoenix, paid for by my dad - I was responsible for gas, and not wrapping it around a tree.) The plan for that evening was to go to the hockey game between my school and our cross-town rival; we'd have beer, of course (one of the guys' dads held fairly liberal views on teenaged male beer consumption, and provided us with a twelver of Moosehead, our beer of choice - this was Anchorage, Alaska, and we felt the need to support the economy of our Canadian neighbors). We'd drink a few in the parking lot before heading in to the game. Now, lest you think I was a complete delinquent, we brought a bag of chips, and I was limiting myself to one beer, since I was the driver. We pounded the beers in the parking lot, and I made sure that all of the bottles were disposed of - didn't want to leave any evidence, of course.
The next morning, my dad took the car out to run an errand. When he came back, his expression was stern. I felt a tinge of panic: did I do something to the car? He asked but one question: "Were you guys drinking last night?" The panic threatened to boil over. He suspects something! But we got rid of the evidence! The bottles were gone! I made sure of it!
I am not the Family Photographer, for a couple of reasons. First, I take horrible pictures; my attempts to pass off pictures of the tops of my kids' heads as "art" have met with resistance. Second, I'm a bit reluctant to post family photos on The Internets. There's the obvious reason (namely, creepy people who like to collect photos for their own nefarious purposes), and one that I hadn't really thought about until people actually started reading my blog - creepy businesses who like to collect photos for their own nefarious purposes. A few of my blogging friends have had personal photos lifted from their sites and posted on other monetized websites without permission or compensation, and that's why I used to save those pictures for Facebook. But even Facebook isn't 100% secure: like many paid writers, I use it to publicize my online writing, and thus total strangers as well as Friends can get access to my personal pictures. Now, I know Facebook says that you can make your pictures 100% secure, but like many of you I see the constant flow of articles on techy websites about ways that Facebook is trying to work around your privacy settings and it makes me slightly twitchy.
The folks at Posterous reached out to me (FULL DISCLOSURE: This is a sponsored post, meaning that I got paid to endorse the product, which I do, because I like what it does) about their sharing platform. Posterous allows you to post all kinds of stuff: photos, links, musings, diatribes, and the nice thing about it is that it's simple. And that includes the privacy settings. You can make everything public, or you can make your stuff visable only to Posterous subscribers, or you can password-protect everything and keep out the riffraff. It's easy to set up a page, and the post-via-email function makes it great for busy folks who don't have time to deal with uploads and Albums. Subscribers to your page can opt for an email notification when you post something new; nothing revolutionary, of course, but if you're looking to build a social network of friends and family around your Posterous page, it's a good feature.
And maybe that's why I like Posterous, and plan on doing more with it. While Facebook is nice, like many of us bloggers who unexpectedly found ourselves in a small spotlight, it's nice to have some exclusive, Members Only Internet space. I take comfort in the fact that when I do end posting blurry, tilted pictures of my kids with their eyes half-closed, I'll actually know the people who'll be making fun of me.
Disclosure: The reviewer received no compensation for this review beyond one free Be A Headcase bottle/can opener case and the buzz received from drinking all the beer he opened during filming. The iPhone4 belongs to the reviewer's wife and he had to give it back to her under penalty of no nookie. No beer companies compensated DadCentric or the reviewer for their products appearing on screen or disappearing down the reviewer's gullet, but if they were smart they'd start trying to work some deals with us for product sponsorship and, if need be, AA sponsorship. The woman in the beer wench outfit was also not compensated for her appearance in this video nor was she ever hit on, via Twitter, by U.S. Rep Anthony Weiner, D-N.Y.
Well, sorta. A couple of the DadCentricians (The Holmes and Croutonboy) are Austinites, so they don't really count. I'll be attending SXSWi (that's "South By Southwest Interactive", the part of the gargantuan festival that deals with blogs and social media and The Internets) as a presenter/moderator, alongside my boss at Man of The House, the honorable Craig Heimbuch. The title of our presentation: "Are We Not Men? Reaching New American Dads". Here's the breakdown:
Men's media has changed tremendously- almost as much as men and dads have. Today's dads are active in every aspect of the household, from parenting to chores, and yet, they are largely overlooked as readers and consumers. New American Dads are thirsty for knowledge and a community that speaks their common language - that of the real man. The new language of men helps Jacks of all trades learn how to be better at all of them, retain their essential masculinity and perform well in a new paradigm of family, work and self. Traditional media outlets - those that espouse the virtues of supposedly manly interests ($10,000 suits, rare scotch and women, women, women) are missing an opportunity to serve this emerging male marked. In order to speak 'Dad,' media must speak to the realities of his life, his priorities, responsibilities, aspirations and, above all else, be useful. The growing online media directed at the New American Dad understands that service journalism - that which seeks to inform as well as entertain - is the next evolution in the daddy blogger. Blogs have their place, but in order to effect change in men's media, online resources must engage the reader in a conversation, one in which the consumer walks away feeling better informed than they had before engaging the site. Service journalism - how-tos, how it works and best-of lists - have practical applications in readers' lives, thus engendering loyalty and creating conversations with a long overlooked population, while developing an audience for whom older media models based on supposed aspiration and stereotype have little meaningful impact. Speak to dads in their language, encourage them to speak back, teach them something they can use and entertain them - this is the next evolution of men's media.
Pretty heady stuff, no? If you're attending SXSWi, pop on in and join the conversation. More details about the presentation can be found here, along with my ridiculously self-important bio and heavily photoshopped headshot. Regarding the question "are we not men?", here's your answer.
It should have been the happiest day of my parenting career. I had just been tapped by Jason, the Don of DadCentric, to enter the inner circle of the most powerful group blog in the dad-o-sphere. I was a made man. The future was spread out before me in a pastiche of Scorcese-esque images: luxurious homes and automobiles, custom-made suits, diamond-encrusted chinchillas for my wife, and a small but swanky apartment for my brassy, psychotic mistress. And of course, only the best boarding schools for my 19 month-old twin girls.
But before plowing ahead with my new life, I had to get my proverbial house in order. There were bills to pay, travel plans to be shuffled, long-time acquaintances to be snubbed, and tracks to be covered. Fortunately, my wife takes care of all that shit. All I needed to do was to back up the data on my iPhone.
I had bought the phone back in August and blah blah blah boring blah exchanged phone blah blah didn't bother backing it up blah blah boring. So I plugged the phone into my ancient MacBook, and absentmindedly clicked on an option in the dropdown window that had the word "restore" in it, which, my wife later told me (repeatedly because I'm a slow learner), is a code word for "destroy everything you hold dear."
Fitted sheets are evil and if the alternative wasn't worse, I'd say that they should be rounded up and burned, every last one of them, because several studies have indicated that trying to fold a fitted sheet is the leading cause of death for fathers between the age of 19 and 65. I don't give a shit who you are. You may be the most well-rounded Modern Father on the planet - the Justin Timberlake of Committed Dads! - but you can't fold a fitted sheet. Yeah, you think you can, but you can't. Not like this lady. She's a linen-folding mutant (The Sheetress! Lady Threadcount!) who could teach a class at the Xavier Academy. Witness a miracle. This is like Doug Henning making a life-sized origami Harley-Davidson Fat Boy. Only better.
You think you know what dads want for Father's Day (see, Dad-Zero)? Well, I'm about to blow that ship out of the water. You have no idea.
Actually, you probably have some idea, after all, you're a dad. Or you have one. Or you're involved with one in a biblical manner. Or you play one on TV. Or you like free shit on the internet. Any of the above will do. The point is, making blanket statements about what the royal DAD wants is like saying all kids love pizza or all dogs go to heaven. It simply isn't true. Some dogs go straight to hell and they do not pass go. Blanket statements are unfair and often littered with smallpox, which let's be honest, is pretty fucked up.
That said, here are a few ideas -- reviews and giveaways (marked below) that some dads will really like for Father's Day. Or maybe not. Actual dads may vary:
If you thought Gandolfini was an odd choice to voice a giant Muppet, think again. This is awesome, a mashup of...well, you'll see. (Oh, and if you're at work, fuggetaboutit.)
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