MetroDad

Happy 7th Anniversary, Sweet Cheeks!

There are three things that I always tell people when they're about to get married.

One, always remember that marriage is about the journey, not the destination.

Two, always remember that a great marriage is like a duck.  Everything may look smooth on the surface but underneath, you've got to paddle like hell.

Three, keep in mind that the key to a healthy long-term relationship is never go shopping for shoes with your wife.

Also, if you can afford separate bathrooms (usually both for her,) go for it.

Personally, before I got married, people gave me crappy advice. About a million people told me "whatever happens, don't go to bed angry." Seriously? I find it hard to believe that there are couples out there who can get into massive fights and then have everything be alright before "Nightline" comes on. I have personally slept on our couch enough times that there's a giant indentation of my ass right smack in the middle of it.

But that's ok. Arguing can be healthy in a relationship. Spouses are individual people with their own individual views and needs. What counts in making a happy marriage is not so much how compatible you are, but how you deal with the incompatibility.

That's far more important to remember than any aphorism about not going to bed angry.

Personally, I like to celebrate my anniversary by thanking my wife for putting up with me. I snore like a buffalo, hate doing laundry, and cannot go shopping with her for more than 10 minutes before I want to blow my brains out. I fart incessantly, tell the same stories at every dinner party, and am utterly useless at fixing anything other than a dangling participle. Also, my feet smell like ass and I clog our toilet up on a weekly basis.

On the other hand, my wife is a wonderful, intelligent, beautiful, sexy, funny woman whom I love and adore. She not only puts up with all my little "quirks" but she actually finds them charming. I'm lucky to have her and the key to our marriage is that we both know it.

So...happy anniversary, honey!

As the great American philosopher Rocky Balboa once said, "I got gaps; you got gaps; we fill each other's gaps."

Let's keep filling them together.

I love you.

The Greatest Video Ever Posted on the Internet

Due to my father-in-law's cancer, the mood is fairly grim these days at Casa MetroDad.

That's why I was pleasantly surprised to get an e-mail today from my wife with the subject heading, "This warmed my heart and put a smile on my face today." Not much puts a smile on my beautiful wife's face these days but when I saw it for myself, I completely understood. Somehow, this touching video speaks to the indomitable strength of the human spirit. It's amazingly uplifting. Few things have ever made me smile and tear up at the same time. I simply can't stop watching it.

See for yourself...

Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.

This video reminds me why I love traveling around the world so much. It's because getting to intimately know people all over the planet always reminds me that, deep-down inside, we're so much more similar than we are different. It's something we should all strive to remember every day.

In a similar way, it also reminds me of why I love blogging so much. Through the power of the internet, the world has become such a smaller place. Ever since I mentioned my father-in-law's cancer, we've received so many incredibly touching e-mails from people all over the world. People from Malaysia to India to Greece have all taken time out of their busy days to express their deepest sympathies and send their warmest thoughts and prayers. I can't even begin to express how much that means to us.

I hope this inspirational video makes your day just as it made ours. And may it remind all of us that, despite all the hate in the world, we're more similar than we could ever imagine.

Peace out.

Text Messaging for Dummies: Part Deux

It's been almost two years since I revealed my hatred for text messaging.

However, this only seems to have spurred my weird friends to text me even more. So, in lieu of the fact that I have nothing substantial to write about today and also because I just spent twenty minutes trying to figure out how to erase all the text messages from my phone, here are the latest batch of text messages deleted from my cellphone:

"Don't fuck with me. I know you are not at Olsteen. I'm at Olsteen. You are at Soho House with Jim. You are both going to hell. Heathens!"

"That bar in Harlem on Nicholas Ave is now a Chuck E. Cheese. I am upstairs very much enjoying myself."

"Girl arrived at 2:51 pm. 7 lbs. Toes. Fingers. Hair. All good. 5 pushes for mommy. No cursing or bruises for daddy this time."

"I'm in therapy. Why aren't you?"

"The only thing making me feel better today is the fact that you're older than me."

"Donna making me see SATC. Just being on tic holders line a joke. Woman in line said she needed to look up words while reading a review."

"Pork butts are the new short ribs."

"Bummed about Omar. A young'n did him."

"I gave up pot for Lent. Yes, I do know I'm Jewish."

"Download new Duran Duran album. Serious. And no, this is not 1986 texting your cellphone."

"I know you're a Korean Jew and it's Sunday but I don't want Chinese. I want stone crabs."

"I am sixteen going on seventeen. On repeat. Over and over again."

"My daughter just licked the pole on the subway. Another proud parenting moment."

"Just ran into RZA at a deli. Never saw a rapper order a blueberry muffin before."

"Don't come home. The A/C went out! I'm melting. Save yourself."

"Why does every toddler in NYC have a better haircut than me?"

"Living my life with new philosophy. WWPDD?  What would P.Diddy do?"

For the record, all of the above text messages were sent to me by friends over the age of thirty-five. Notice how none of them used that retarded shorthand internet slang?  That's because my friends know if they did (or used an emoticon,) I'd cut them.   

What's the most random text message that YOU ever received?  An inquiring mind wants to know.

A man without a fish is like a woman without a bicycle

I've fly-fished for trout in Idaho's famous Silver Creek. I've deep-sea fished on a yacht in Hong Kong Harbor. I've spearfished for cod in Peru. And I've battled gigantic marlin off Florida's Gold Coast.

However, my favorite fishing memories are those days of being a kid sitting on a dock with nothing but a plastic fishing rod and an empty coffee can filled with worms.

As a young boy, I spent virtually all my summers at a beautiful camp in Maine located on the Saco River. For two whole months, I'd ride horses, canoe in British Columbia, climb Mt. Washington, kayak in Lovell Pond and camp out at Sebago Lake. It was during those amazing summers that I first developed my love for fishing.

Being single in Manhattan during my late 20's put fishing on hold for quite some time. It really came down to making choices. Should I go to a friend's new nightclub with a bunch of models or go to bed early so I can wake up at 4:00 am and go fishing? Spend a week in the Caribbean golfing with buddies or freeze to death by myself in Montana? Eat canapes on a terrace in Paris or munch on stale beef jerky and gorp while patching holes in my leaky tent?

You can imagine which decisions I chose.

But recently I've rekindled my love of fishing.

Why? Because my father-in-law LOVES to fish.

As many of you sadly know, BossLady's father was recently diagnosed with inoperable bile duct cancer and has been given only 3-6 months to live. Ever since we heard the devastating news, we've been flying out to Texas practically every weekend to not only spend time with him but also to create new memories for all of us. Particularly the Peanut.

My FIL has worked six days a week for his entire life The only time he ever took a vacation was to spend time with family or go on a church convention. He's a noble man who truly believes that idle hands are the devil's tools. In fact, before we sent him and his wife to Italy this year as a 50th wedding anniversary present, he hadn't been on a vacation or left the country in over twenty-five years!

In one of life's ironic twists, my father-in-law's cancer has sadly given him time to do the things that are purely for his sole enjoyment. And, more than anything else, he enjoys spending his remaining time on the planet fishing.

So every weekend, we rent this awesome pontoon boat and go fishing together. My FIL spends days setting up our fishing gear; my MIL and the Peanut prepare the food;  BossLady and I are in charge of stocking up on live bait, lures, and beef jerky at the local Wal-Mart.

It's been great spending all this time together fishing as a family. I love seeing my FIL so energized and focused on catching fish. I love watching BossLady lay out on the boat as she works on her tan. I love watching the Peanut give names to all the fish that we catch ("hello, Marlin! Hi, Nemo!") And personally I love that this opportunity is giving me a chance to rekindle my long-lost love affair with fishing.

This past weekend, we finally got Peanut her own fishing pole. She was so excited that she not only slept with it but she also spent the entire morning practicing her casting in the swimming pool. Now, as any parent will tell you, a great part of the joy in being a parent lies in seeing your child go through new life experiences. You see wonderful things through their eyes and, in the process, you tend to experience life in a completely different way. Moments like that are so life-affirming that it almost makes you forget about all the whining, the tantrums, and the ongoing battle over taking a bath.

Almost.

And while I've always been a believer that ALL kids are cute, I have to say, in all seriousness, have you ever seen anything cuter in your life than my daughter in her fishing gear? Christ, it's like looking at bunch of newborn kittens kissing a unicorn underneath a rainbow!

I've always believed that life is short so I've tended to take a very carpe diem approach to life. So far, I think I've succeeded. I've traveled to 51 countries all over the world and have experienced so many incredible adventures during the course of my lifetime. However, maybe it's due to my father-in-law's illness or my approaching 40th birthday but lately I've decided to add a few more things to my life list.

To start off, I've decided to start kayaking in the Hudson River every weekend, take cooking classes, and volunteer at a place that tutors adult illiterates.

See, I have this theory that, too frequently, we take the easy way out in life and are content with the daily status quo. And c'mon. Let's face it. We're a lazy nation. As Dennis Miller once said, we're the only nation in the entire world that can cook food in a microwave and yell, "faster! faster!"

But more importantly...what are YOU going to do? Tell me something you've always wanted to do but have continued to put off. It doesn't have to be anything grand. Just tell me something that you've always wanted to do during your lifetime. Now, get off your ass and do it. Put it here in the comments so you can come back and remind yourself of your promise.

Because not only is life short but let's face it, there's nothing on TV these days anyway!

 

THREE-PEAT THURSDAY

LATHER, RINSE...REPEAT!

Although I curse like a fucking sailor, I'm extremely diligent in never doing this in front of the Peanut. Toddlers are experts at parroting anything they hear from their parents. Things that you whisper under your breath will come back to haunt you. Maybe not tomorrow or next week...but sometime.

Anyway, a few weeks ago, I banged the shit out of my thumb with a hammer. Wincing in pain but seeing the Peanut right next to me, I yelled out under my breath, "GOSHDERNIT, MODDAFREAKING OW!"

Needless to say, the Peanut started laughing hilariously and began hopping around on one leg around the apartment while holding her thumb and yelling, "GOSHDERNIT! GOSHDERNIT! GOSHDERNIT!"

I'd wash both our mouths out with soap but really, it's too damn cute for words.
 

3 PHRASES I'VE TAUGHT THE PEANUT FOR MY OWN ENTERTAINMENT

(1) "Mommy, there's something in your eye. Oh, it's a sparkle!"

(2) "What are we ordering for dinner, lady?"

(3) "Hey pretty mama, you want some fries with that shake?"

3 MOVIE LINES I'M TEACHING THE PEANUT FOR MY OWN ENTERTAINMENT

(1) "Luca Brasi sweeps with the fishies. "

(2) "I drink your milkshake. I dwink it all up."

(3) "I am Connor MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod!" 

3 PHRASES I NEVER THOUGHT WOULD COME OUT OF MY MOUTH

(1) "PLEASE stop walking around the house with your finger up your butt!"

(2) "Did you eat two packages of Starburst while I was sleeping?"

(3) "For the last time, stop putting your dresses on the dog!"

LIES, DAMN LIES, OR STATISTICS?

Here are three recent parenting news headlines that I find EXTREMELY hard to believe...

(1) "The average mother of a child under 15 spends more on fast food every year than on books, music, movies and video games combined."---NY Times

(2) "A new study shows that mothers argue with their toddlers an average of 20-25 times per hour."---CBS News

(3) "Nearly HALF of all pregnancies each year are accidents."---Boston Globe   

NOTA BENE TO THE THIRD POWER, YO!

(1) As many of you noticed, I finally have a new design for this blog. Long-time readers may remember the first version of this site (which we all affectionately decided looked like a pumpkin had thrown up on a chalkboard.) The last version wasn't much better. The type was so small and the background was so dark that I could barely read it. 

Kudos to the wonderfully talented Half Mama, who not only designed the winning banner but also won herself a brand-new Apple Shuffle, a full ensemble of athletic apparel, and a $50 American Express gift certificate.

I'm still going to tinker around a little with the site design. Feel free to offer up ANY suggestions!

(2) The last post? Holy cow! Almost 300 comments? It made me feel all Doocey inside. Anyway, it seems that slightly more than 90% of you would want to be woken up from a coma to say bye to your loved ones and then be told that you were about to die. Andrew believes that the polling data is skewed by demographics. He thinks that people who would read a "daddy blog" are most likely parents with young kids themselves and therefore more inclined to want to be woken from the coma. He still believes that, in the general population, more people would NOT want to be woken up.

And since many of you asked...No, Andrew and his wife do not have kids. Should that make a difference?

(3) We've been so busy going back and forth to Texas to see BossLady's father that I just realized this is the FIRST time in my life that I don't have a song of the summer. Where's my "Hey Ya," my "Brass Monkey," or my "Since U Been Gone?" I can't believe I have nothing!

Every summer, I burn a CD of summer pop songs so I can listen to them while I drive in the car. This weekend, we're going out to the beach and all I've got are Donna Summer's "Stamp Your Feet" and Coldplay's "Viva La Vida."

I'm looking for suggestions, people! What's YOUR song of the summer for 2008? What's rocking YOUR ipod right now?

P.S. I can't stop watching this video of one of my favorite bands, The Roots, cover U2. Check it out.

Quick Poll

Yesterday, my buddy Andrew and I were discussing the season finale of the TV show "House."

During the episode, a woman is injured in a bus accident. However, there are some strange complications that seem to imply a dangerous preexisting condition. The patient is put into a medical coma while the doctors attempt to diagnose her and find the proper treatment.

The doctors eventually realize that the patient cannot be cured and will soon die. The boyfriend is given the choice whether to let her die peacefully in her sleep or to have her awakened so that they can say goodbye to one another and he can tell her about her impending death. This being television, he naturally chooses to have her woken up. They lie together on the hospital bed for a few hours, tell each other how much they love one another, and then she naturally slips into a coma and dies.

While Andrew and his wife Lara were watching the show, Lara immediately spun towards him and said, "Just for the record, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT WAKING ME UP!" Andrew completely agreed.

I posed this hypothetical to the BossLady and she didn't hesitate either. After thinking about if for a brief millisecond, she told me that she wouldn't want to be woken up either.

Me? I thought there was something romantic about it. I would want to be woken up. I could tell my wife and daughter how much I loved them. I could offer them my last lessons on life. Also, I think it would help provide closure for everyone and maybe make their suffering a little less painful.

Plus, knowing I was going to die, I could inhale a giant cheesesteak with fried onions and pickles, maybe catch a Mets game on TV, and then still have time to call a few people and tell them how much I hate them. How bad could it be? Sounds great!

Andrew thinks I'm a romantic idiot and that the idea of being woken up, only to be told that you were about to die, is morbidly disturbing. He thinks if we asked 100 people, 99 would not want to be woken up.

So naturally we agreed that we'd post the question here on the blog.

What's the deal, my friends? Would you want to be woken up from a coma so that you could say your goodbyes and be told that you have only hours to live? Or would you rather stay in the coma and pass peacefully? And why would you pick one choice over another?

An inquiring mind wants to know...

Spiritual? Definitely! Religious? Ehh. Not so much.

When I was eight years old, I was convinced that my Sunday school teacher hated my guts. So every weekend, when my parents dropped me off at the front door of the church, I'd walk straight through to the rear exit, change into gym clothes, and spend the next few hours playing basketball at a public court down the street.

By the time I finally got busted, it was the end of July. Unfortunately, at the end of every summer, the church put all the Sunday school students on display in front of the entire congregation, an annual event at which we were supposed to impress the elders with our vast canonical knowledge of the bible. Despite the fact that my church education for the year had been cut short due to my delinquency, I was informed that my presence was absolutely required.

During the event, the reverend turned to us and asked if we knew all of God's different names. One child answered, "Yahweh." Another called out, "Jehovah." Then, to my utter fear and horror, the reverend turned to me and said, "How about you, Pierre? Do you know God's name?"

Trying to think fast on my feet, I yelled out, "Yes! God's name is Howard!"

The reverend's face turned quizzical and he asked, "Why would you say that God's name is Howard?"

"Because it says so right in the Lord's Prayer! 'Our father who art in Heaven, Howard be thy name!'"

With that, the entire congregation burst out laughing hysterically and the vast scope of my religious ignorance was exposed for everyone to see. Needless to say, my days at church were numbered after that traumatic experience.

Flash forward 30 years later...

Members of my father-in-law's church congregation visit his house to pray for him. As the pastor begins to recite a long and solemn prayer, the Peanut walks into the room eating a candy bar. Confused as to why everyone has their eyes closed and their heads bent, she immediately starts yelling, "Hey! Wake up, guys. It's not nap time yet."

Receiving no attention to her remarks, she then proceeds to walk up to random people, forcefully prying their eyes open with her little fingers, and saying "C'mon. Please don't go to bed now. The sun is still awake!"

As my mother-in-law stifles her laughter, one of the members of the congregation turns to the BossLady and whispers, "So I guess you guys don't go to church much, eh?"

Damn. Is it that obvious?

Thanks for all your kind comments and heartfelt e-mails. We're truly touched by your sympathies. Unfortunately, my FIL's cancer is worse than we had previously thought. We'll be spending the next few months commuting between New York and Dallas on a weekly basis. Posting here may be light. Thanks again for your thoughts and prayers.

Lonely is the night

You miss your wife and daughter terribly.

It's late at night. Your apartment feels cavernously empty. The silence seems to echo off the brick walls and reverberate noiselessly. How is that possible? The TV hums in the background. You sigh heavily and, as you gaze upon a photo of your wife and daughter, you pour yourself another scotch.

Things changed so quickly. Only a week ago, you and your family awoke to one of those beautiful spring mornings in Manhattan, the kind of morning that always rekindles your unabated love for this city. Your daughter is practically bursting at the seams with excitement. "Isn't it a beautiful day, guys? When you pick me up today, let's all go to the park for a picnic. Hooray! Picnics!" You and your wife smile and laugh at your daughter's unbridled enthusiasm. Together, all three of you walk out of your apartment building. Rays of golden sunshine warm your faces.

Three hours later, you leave the office briefly to get another dose of that midtown sun. You chat amiably with the Pakistani newstand owner downstairs as the two of you share a cigarette. You both agree that it really is a beautiful day. Despite your yearning to flee from work and enjoy the outdoors, you return upstairs to your office.

Immediately as you walk in, your co-worker runs up to you. "Call your wife. It's an emergency."

In the seconds that it takes for you to dial her number, your mind races. Since your wife is the one calling, you assume that nothing bad has happened to her. What else would constitute an emergency? Has something happened to your daughter? Your heart is racing.

When your wife answers, all you hear are the anguished sounds of her sobbing uncontrollably. Between choking sobs and gulps of air, you hear only isolated words. Father. Liver cancer. Inoperable. Tumor. 8 cm.

Your gut wrenches. A sickening feeling falls into the pit of your stomach. For some strange reason, you're reminded of that tragic morning of 9/11. Another beautiful day that started out with so much promise yet ended with so much pain.

The next 24 hours are a dizzying combination of activity and emotion. Phone calls are made. Tears are shed. Sympathies are laid bare. You learn that everyone reacts differently in these situations.

We all do what we have to in order to get by.

Your wife decides to get on a plane immediately so she can see her ailing father. You agree that it will be easier for everyone if you and your daughter stay at home. You both think you have it all figured out. However, when you telephone your mother-in-law to inform her of the news, she pauses for a moment and then tells you that it's great that your wife is coming to see them. However, the doctor said that her husband needs to enjoy life as much as possible now. Things might get worse soon. That being said, your mother-in-law tells you, do you think the Peanut could come to Texas also? Nothing would make him happier.

You and your wife look at each other and agree wholeheartedly. Knowing how much joy can come from being around a fun-loving toddler, you both know that this is one of the best (and only) things that you can do for her father right now. You also know it's hard to cry when you're laughing so hard. And one thing your daughter does do is provide lots of laughter.

So as you sit alone in your apartment missing your family and thoroughly depressed over your father-in-law's illness, you decide to watch some videos that you took last week. In one, your daughter is demonstrating how if mom and dad will not give her a baby sister, she will make one by herself. And as you sit there with tears in your eyes, you cannot help but start laughing again.

It's true. Laughter really is the best medicine.

I'm having a baby sister from Pierre Kim on Vimeo.

We love you, Dad, and we're thinking about you all the time.

 

It Takes a Village: Questions for Other Parents

How many times can a grown man watch "The Sound of Music" with his daughter before he completely loses his sanity?

What are the future ramifications if a young girl watches "The Sound of Music" 43,287 times between the ages of two and four? Will she want to move to Austria? Pursue a career in child services? Abandon a career in the nunnery?

Why do toddlers feel compelled to unravel an entire roll of toilet paper? Is the fun in watching it unroll or in watching your parents go completely bonkers?

Is baby perfume really necessary? Febreeze and scented baby wipes seem to work just fine for us.

If you are otherwise happy with your nanny, should it matter that her cellphone's ringtone is Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me?"

McDonalds Happy Meals: Ruthless case of aggressive fast-food marketing? Or greatest parenting tool ever?

If a little girl in the playground keeps pushing your adorable daughter to the ground, is it acceptable to give her an eating disorder? Or should I just confuse her by threatening to kick her in the nuts?

Is it wrong to feel completely smug and self-righteous when your kid is the only one not screaming and crying during the entire 5-hour plane ride?

Am I the only one who listens patiently to other people's boring parenting stories, waiting until they're done so I can tell my own boring parenting stories? 

By constantly telling kids to "use their words," are we raising the next generation of wussies?

Why would anyone let their pre-school son get a mohawk? Is life just not that interesting for him anymore? Is he rebelling? Against what? Vegetables?

Wait a second. High fructose corn syrup isn't just like corn? Uh-oh.

Why does everyone freak out about potty training? Do you have any adult friends who "just never quite got the hang of it?"

Anyone have any tips on how to get my toddler to take a bath? These nightly battles are driving me crazy. I'm thinking about throwing Happy Meals in the bathtub to entice her. It makes me feel like a lion tamer.

At what age do children learn to carry their own tissues and blow their own damn noses? I'm getting really sick of reaching into every single pair of my pants and pulling out a half-used snot-ridden emergency tissue.

Has anyone else gone into an important client meeting and taken out their laptop to do a PowerPoint presentation, only to find it covered with 50 Cinderella stickers?

Is it really possible for a human being to greatly enjoy a food but then one day decide never to eat it again? Or is that done solely to drive one's father insane?

What lasts longer? That fresh new baby smell or that fresh new car smell? I'm just wondering because my car still smells pretty good but my daughter's feet smell like vinegar.

Why do the worst tantrums always occur in the most public spaces with the most number of spectators?

The screaming and the whining. Does it EVER end?

Your answers to any of these questions are greatly appreciated. Feel free to add your own. Sometimes I think it really does take a village.

MetroDad Mailbag (April 2008)

It's been a long time since we've done a mailbag. I figure now is a good time to catch up because I'm about 3 months behind in replying to e-mails from readers.

Let's start off by saying that I'm always surprised by the questions that readers send in. I've always believed that I have the weirdest, coolest, smartest, and strangest readers on the internet. As always, your questions this past week seem to confirm it.

Let's get this thing rolling...

.

Who was the hottest TV mom in a family show? I read on ESPN that Bill Simmons voted for Elyse Keaton. Who would you vote for?
-- Bradley

Elyse Keaton definitely makes the top three. Not only is she attractive but also I think every guy has a secret fantasy about being with a hippie architect. It's one of those weird juxtapositions that you never actually see in real life (like sexy mechanic or slutty surgeon.)

I'd have to round it out with Clair Huxtable (still the hottest female doctor ever on television) and Maggie Seaver (reporter by day/desperate housewife at night.)

Erin Gray as Kate Summers Stratton on "Silver Spoons" wins as hottest step-mother.

Who do you think is going to win this year's American Idol?
--Janet B.

Personally I'm rooting for either David Cook or Syesha but truthfully I don't really feel any great allegiance to any of them. In fact, I don't really even like most of them. Especially the women. Am I the only one?

I can't put my finger on it but there's something that rubs me the wrong way about Carly Smithson, Brooke White, and Kristy Lee Cook. I have the sneaking suspicion that they're not quite as nice as they're trying to portray themselves on television. In fact, there's a big part of me that thinks that when they're home alone and nobody's watching, they kick the dog and make fun of Mexicans.

And can we talk about Kristy Lee Cook for a second? Has anyone since George Bush tried to parlay our feelings of national patriotism into a winning campaign? Every week, I feel like all she does is sing "Amazing Grace" and "God Bless the U.S.A."

Tune in next week as she sings "God Bless America," the following week as she brings home "America the Beautiful," and watch it continue until the season finale when she invades Iran!

I have to go to a karaoke party in a few weeks and I'm nervous as hell. I don't have a great voice and I've never sang in front of other people before. What are your top 5 karaoke songs?
-- Derek

As I've said before, I have a horrible voice. However, after years of trial and error, I've found that there are certain songs that any guy can sing well. Here they are:

Bryan Ferry's "Avalon"
John Denver's "Country Road"
The Ramones "I Want to be Sedated"
Oasis' "Wonderwall"
Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline"

Avoid anything by Guns & Roses, Sting, Bon Jovi, Aerosmith, or Jay-Z. These are much harder than you could possibly imagine. If you're really drunk, it's ok to attempt Night Ranger's "Sister Christian." However, under no circumstances should you ever try singing anything by Journey.

You've been warned.

Bobby Flay or Mario Batali? That's it. Just pick one. You can set other parameters if you wish (best to drink with, more feared in an alligator wrassle...)
-- BackpackingDad

To eat their food?  Mario Batali. Every time I eat at Babbo, I end up having dreams about the beef cheek ravioli. Never had drinks with Bobby Flay but Batali can hold his own. That being said, I still want to be best friends with Paula Deen.

Would you consider a partner for MetroDog in near future?
-- Helen

Sadly, MetroDog had a vasectomy several years ago. He kept getting attacked by other dogs at the playground who were jealous of his virility. However, this is a perfect opportunity to relay a funny vasectomy joke I heard on the plane the other day.

After their 11th child, a redneck couple decided that was enough little hillbillies. The husband went to his veterinarian and told him that he and his cousin-wife didn't want to have any more children and asked what could be done.

The doctor told him that there was a procedure called a vasectomy that could fix the problem, but it was expensive. "A less costly alternative is to go home, get a cherry bomb, light it, put it in a beer can, then hold the can up to your ear and count to 10."

The hillbillie said to the doctor, "I may not be the smartest tool in the shed, but I don't see how putting a cherry bomb in a beer can and holding it next to my ear and counting to 10 is going to help me."

"Trust me," said the doctor.

So the man went home, lit a cherry bomb and put it in a beer can. He held the can to his ear and began to count...

"1"
"2"
"3"
"4"
"5"

At which point he paused, placed the beer can between his legs, and resumed counting on his other hand.

Do you and Bosslady have "free passes" for any given celebrity? For example, if my wife is out one night and she sees Clive Owen, she is officially allowed to cheat on me with him. Likewise if I happen to run into Jessica Alba. Who would you and Bosslady choose?
-- JDG

I vaguely remember BossLady and I having this conversation several years ago. I think she chose Colin Firth. I chose Julianne Moore because she lives in our neighborhood and, as I annoyingly mention any time her name comes up in conversation, I'm pretty sure I caught her checking me out on the streets of Soho many years ago. Of course, that was before I had Lasik surgery so it could have been Julianne Moore.

But it also could have been Carrot Top.

Side point: Colin Firth's claim to fame was his starring role as William Darcy in the BBC version of "Pride & Prejudice." It's mindboggling how many women fell in love with him after that. Has any actor ever achieved so much adoration from women from one single role? The only one I can come up with is John Cusack as Lloyd Dobler. Anyone got any others?

What is the most embarrassing concert you have ever attended. Follow up: What was the best live show you've ever seen?
-Sarah

I went to see Tears for Fears a few years back and realized during the show that neither member of the band was an original member.

However, I'd have to say that the most embarrassing concert I ever attended was Ricky Martin. I wish I could say that alcohol, bribery or blackmail were involved. In actuality, a few buddies and I went to see him because we actually thought it would be a pretty good show. Not only have I never been more embarrassed, I've also never felt gayer.

Best live concert? Bruce Springsteen. Front row. Giants Stadium. Backstage passes. Met the Boss. I can now die a happy man.

Truthfully, would you prefer to have BL stay home or work? I don't think there's a perfect scenario as both are equally as hard.
-- Emily

Truthfully, my perfect scenario involves BossLady working and me staying at home.

I have moved to a city, Chicago, with a very rich sports history.  As a Denver-ite with my own sports loyalties, do I even both to acknowledge there are sports team out here and choose the Cubs or the Sox?  Or do I just say that both suck and continue being a home town fan?
-MikeyMike

Unless you're planning on staying in Chicago for the rest of your life, you need to suck it up and remain loyal to your hometown team. That's the cardinal rule, man. No switching loyalties. No jumping on bandwagons. No rooting for two teams.

I love Jimmy Fallon. In fact, he married one of my best friend's sisters. But Fallon claims to have grown up loving the Yankees but then, after filming "Fever Pitch," he switched loyalties and became a Red Sox fan. You can't do that! That's like rooting for the Sunnis and the Shiites.

That being said, there's nothing wrong with being a Rockies fan and going to some Cubs games. There are very few things more enjoyable in this world than drinking a few beers in Wrigley Field and watching the Cubs on a gorgeous Spring afternoon.

I was having a debate with my wife about the 5 most surprising things to ever happen on television. I won't tell you our choices. We just want to hear yours.
-- Jamie

Great question. I think we've all become so jaded about the formulaic outlines of TV plots that we forget those special moments that rock your world. In no particular order, here's my list of Top 5 "Holy shit! I can't believe that just fucking happened" moments that made my jaw drop.

(1) Kimberly taking off her wig on "Melrose Place." I still think that this is the freakiest thing ever shown on television. Seeing that huge scar still gives me nightmares.

(2) Rosalind falling down an elevator shaft to her death in "L.A. Law." Leave it to David Kelly to come up with one of the funniest and most unexpected ways of killing someone off on television.

(3) Teri Bauer's death on "24." Maybe the most shocking death on television. Think about it. In one day, Teri Bauer was kidnapped, tortured, raped, thought her daughter had been killed, got amnesia, and found out she was pregnant. She was rescued, Jack stopped the terrorist plot, and it looked like everyone would live happily ever after. Then, at the last minute, Nina Myers took her hostage, tied her up and slashed her throat, leaving her lifeless body to be found by Jack in the season's final scene. I remember BossLady and I staring at the television with our jaws open and yelling, "No fucking way!" I can't wait until the new season starts.

(4) Mork from "Mork and Mindy" getting pregnant and giving birth by ejecting a small egg from his navel. The egg grows and grows and finally cracks open to reveal a full-grown Jonathan Winters! It's hard to remember how funny and groundbreaking the first season of this show was when it first aired. Whatever happened to that Robin Williams guy?

(5) The entire plot development of "Lost." Season One was one of the most groundbreaking seasons in television. Seasons Two and Three were pretty weak but then Season Four kicked ass again. I think now that that the writers know when the show will end (after season 6,) everything will get a lot tighter and more focused again. It's clear from the glimpse-at-the-future episodes that we can expect "Lost" to continue to excite and shock us right up until the very end.

What are some of the best things about living in New York?
-Hapa Mama

Picnics in Central Park. Taking the subway to work. The energy, the feel, and the pulse. Off-Broadway shows. The architecture. Biking on the west side promenade. Walking across the Brooklyn Bridge. Skateboarding in Union Square. Sailing in Battery Park. The rooftop bar at the Met, the basement bar at La Esquina, and the outdoor bar at The Boathouse. Having at least six different local newspapers. Having a nail saloon, a 24-hour deli, and a shoeshine store on every block. Having food, cigarettes, and magazines delivered to your door at 3:00 am. The duck shumai at Dim Sum Go-Go. Guss' Pickles on Orchard Street. Pastrami from Katz's deli. Impassioned neighbors. Clashing cultures. An unyielding spirit.

The list could go on forever.

Help, MD! I've been dating my girlfriend for four years now and I'd like to propose to her over the summer. I've been doing some research online about diamond engagement rings and I heard that you're supposed to spend 2-3 months salary on the ring? Are they freaking kidding me? If I had 3 months salary saved up, I'd pay off my student loans, get a car, or buy some health insurance. What should I do?
-- Michael G.

Don't believe the hype. That salary thing is just another marketing campaign. It's an arbitrary amount pushed by the world's largest diamond producer DeBeers, the same people who helped promote apartheid, contributed to the war in Liberia, and have paid million of dollars in fines for international price fixing (for an interesting article, go here.) Do you suppose they have your best interests at heart? I think not.

If you don't have the cash now, you still have plenty of other choices. Like using a family ring or buying one from an antique store. Or getting one made from a precious gem stone. I've heard of some people taking out loans for diamond engagement rings but that sounds like a bad idea to me (especially since you don't have health insurance.)

Besides, we're actually very close to the point where synthetic diamonds are becoming indistinguishable from real ones. So maybe it's not a bad idea to start thinking about alternative stones for engagement rings. Maybe you'll be ahead of the trend!

I was going to ask you what is your favorite color of Crocs... but i know better! Seriously, what do you (as an insider) think is going to be the "I gotta have it" fashion statement this summer?
-- Jennster

My friends always give me shit for being the ideal cocktail party guest. They know that they can dump me on a random stranger and I'll find something to talk to them about---the Dolphins switching to a 3-4 defense, the merits of Norman Mailer, where to find a cheap tailor in Hong Kong, why Nas' Illmatic is one of the best albums of all-time, the highly underrated thrill of milking a cow, etc.

At some point in the conversation, the random stranger will ask what I do for a living. When I reply that I work in fashion, I usually get two responses: (1) "Really? Looking at what you're wearing, I never would have guessed" or (2) "So what's going to be hot next season?"

In all seriousness, I actually pay a lot of money to professional trend forecasters and color researchers to answer that question for me but because I love all of you readers so much, I'll share it all with you.

The big colors for women this summer are romantic pastels and sorbet tones. Platinums, neutrals and milky nude tones are also going to be very popular. The must-have items are flouncy voluminous skirts with fitted tops or cropped jackets.

Never in a million years when I was growing up did I ever think that I would write that last paragraph.

Let's move on, shall we?

Do you think your Mets will even make the playoffs this year? Especially the way they looked against my Phillies?
-- ByrdMan

I do. If Pedro and El Duque come back healthy, we'll have the best rotation in the NL. Also, it's only a matter of time before the bats start heating up. Beltran, Delgado, and Reyes are notoriously slow starters and usually play better in the warmer months.

By the way, the lovely and beautiful BossLady is out of town for business this week so I took the Peanut to the Mets game last night. Over the course of just 4 innings, my tiny three-year-old daughter ate a hot dog, a cotton candy, a pretzel, and some ice cream. These Dominican guys sitting next to us thought it was hilarious and started cheering her on. I think they half expected her, at some point, to shotgun a beer, belch, and light up a cigar.

We need your help, MD! My brother came to stay with us for 8 weeks. He's generally a good guy. A little uncouth but has a heart of gold. In return for staying with us, he helped watch the kids every day and also babysat on the weekends so that my husband and I could go out to dinner. My 5-year-old son adores his uncle and was like his little shadow during the entire time he was here. The only problem? My son has picked up on all my brother's sayings.

A few days ago, he got up from the dinner table and said, "Be right back. I gotta go take a piss." Yesterday, he was getting frustrated playing with some toys and I heard him yell, "Goddamn piece of crap!" How can I deprogram my son? I need him to stop speaking like a 27-year-old unemployed slacker! Help!
-- Lisa H.

I'm speechless. Short of electroshock therapy, I have no idea what I'd do in a situation like this. Readers? Anyone want to take a shot at this?

Lastly, I got a request from a reporter doing one of those stories on the funny things that kids say. I told her I'd ask my readers and she could look up their responses here. So go for it, my friends. What's the funniest thing you've heard a kid say?

Aside from "Be right back. I gotta go take a piss."

Pimp & Primp

We're going to start this post off with a big pimpin' endorsement to Cool Mom Picks.

Why? Many reasons. For one, the site is an amazing resource for moms who are looking for cool, new products to make their lives easier. They focus on non-mainstream products and services, particularly those from indie or emerging designers and mom/women-run companies. Go subscribe to their newsletter here.

Secondly, the two women who run Cool Mom Picks, Liz and Kristen, are not only good friends of mine but they're also cool as hell. 

That's why I found myself last Friday night in an East Village karaoke bar with 25 other awesome mommy bloggers who all happened to be in NYC for the weekend. To celebrate the occasion, the Cool Mom Picks ladies rented out a private karaoke room and asked me to come party with them. How could I resist? 25 mommy bloggers, me, and an open mike? Sign me up!

I should have known how things were going to end up when, within minutes of entering the room, I found myself singing Britney Spears' "Hit Me Baby, One More Time" with Kristen. Several hours and many vodka shots later, LOD and I found ourselves singing a Kenny Loggins duet. Things get a little fuzzy after that but I have a vague recollection of singing Oasis' "Wonderwall" and clearing out the room.

Ladies, if there are any photos or videos of this out there, please burn them immediately. I am the worst kind of karaoke singer. I sound like a dying frog with asthma yet I have absolutely no inhibitions. My apologies to any of you who had to witness this in person. However, big thanks to Liz and Kristen for hosting such a fun evening.

Now, BossLady, Peanut and I are headed off for a little vacation. Since one of my oldest friends is getting married this weekend at this amazing resort on a private island, we've decided to take some extra time to enjoy ourselves.

I plan on spending my daughter's entire college savings in an attempt to set the record for "Most Spa Treatments Done in a Single Week." When the concierge from the resort called me yesterday and read me the full list of spa services, I just said, "Yes." After all, when else am I going to get a Thai Kalapa Volcanic Earth Clay Spa Ritual? Or a Milk and Honey Body Wrap? Shit, I think the only treatments I turned down were the prenatal massage and the margarita pedicure.

Lest you worry that I not be engaged in more masculine pursuits, I'll have you know that I'll be singlehandedly carrying two enormous pieces of luggage, a stroller, golf clubs, four tennis rackets, thirty-five Disney DVDs, twenty Dr.Seuss books, two stuffed animals, and a hyperactive toddler who thinks I'm her personal horsey. By the time the plane lands, I fully expect to have a pulled groin or a herniated disk. Hell, maybe I will get that prenatal massage.

Anyway, since those damn spa sessions never begin on time and since I expect to have a few free moments between cocktails, I thought this would be a good time for a MetroDad Mailbag. We haven't done one in a long time.

So go ahead. Ask me anything you want. Leave the questions in the comments or shoot me an e-mail. As always, we'll cover anything from the personal to the inane. As always, the weirder, the better.

By the way, quick question for all my male readers out there: Does the Bacon Bra make you hungry or horny? I'm asking for purely scientific purposes, of course.

Field of Dreams: My All-Asian Fantasy Baseball Team

As I've discussed on these pages before, two of my greatest passions in life are (1) being a proud Asian-American man, and (2) baseball.

So it's only natural that I have a special place in my heart for any MLB baseball players of Asian descent (even if they do play for the damn Yankees.) Part of it has to do with the inherent pride when we see people who look like us achieve success in any field. However, a bigger part of my love and admiration for Asian baseball players has to do with the fact that they are our greatest weapons in battling mainstream media's perception of the emasculated Asian male.

Look at some of the Asian baseball players in MLB today. Future Hall-of-Famer and perennial All-Star Ichiro Suzuki, with his matinee idol good looks, has modeled for the cover of GQ while making a strong argument for being one of the best hitters to ever play the game. Hideki Matsui is a modern-day Paul Bunyon who strikes fear in opposing pitchers by putting up some of the game's most awesome power numbers. And stud rookie sensation Kosuke Fukudome is already being hailed as the savior who will lead the Cubs to their first World Series title in 100 years.

Back when I was a slick-fielding Little League shortstop and dreaming of playing for the NY Mets, there were NO Asian players in Major League Baseball. Although the legendary Masanori Murakami briefly pitched for the San Francisco Giants in 1964-1965, it wasn't until Chan Ho Park made his debut with the Dodgers thirty years later that we saw another MLB player of Asian descent.

It makes me extremely proud to look around the clubhouses of Major League Baseball now and see so many Asians playing at virtually every position. I was thinking about this recently and I began wondering whether there were actually now enough Asian baseball players in MLB for me to draft an All-Asian Fantasy Baseball team. And how would that team stack up against the rest of baseball?

Let's take a look:

CF Ichiro Suzuki (Seattle Mariners)
2B Tad Iguchi (Chicago White Sox)
RF Kosuke Fukudome (Chicago Cubs)
LF Hideki Matsui (NY Yankees)
3B Akinori Iwamura (Tampa Bay Devilrays)
C Kenji Johjima (Seattle Mariners)
SS Chin-Lung Hu (Los Angeles Dodgers)
1B Kaz Matsui (Houston Astros)
DH Johnny Damon (NY Yankees)

SP Daisuke Matsuzaka (Boston Red Sox)
SP Chien-Ming Wang (NY Yankees)
SP Hiroki Kuroda (Los Angeles Dodgers)
SP Akinori Otsuka (Texas Rangers)
SP Kei Igawa (NY Yankees)

RP Hideki Okajima (Boston Red Sox)
RP Chan Ho Park (Los Angeles Dodgers)
RP Cha Seung Baek (Seattle Mariners)
RP Takashi Saito (Los Angeles Dodgers)

Few notes:

(1) I put Kaz Matsui at 1st base because there currently no Asian 1st basemen in MLB. I figured he was well-suited because of his glove skills. He's lost some arm strength over the years and Chin-Lung Hu is more of a natural shortstop.

(2) Yes, Johnny Damon is half-Asian. His mother is Thai. You didn't know that?

So let's take a look. How does my All-Asian Fantasy Team measure up?

Actually, I think we look pretty damn good. We've got a great blend of veteran leadership and young players. We've got a nice mix of guys who can get on base and guys who can hit for power. Even though Ichiro is probably the sole Golden Glover, the defense is pretty solid.

Our pitching staff is led by D-Mat and Chien-Ming Wang. I'll put those two aces up against any 1-2 combo in baseball. Kuroda was a freaking stud in Japan and could have a monster year for the Dodgers this year. Otsuka and Igawa should be more than serviceable filling out the back end of the rotation.

The bullpen is probably the team's biggest weakness. Saito is a decent enough closer. Probably better than most others in MLB right now. Unfortunately, I'm not sure how much we'll get out of Okajima, Park, and Baek. The plus side is that our starting pitchers tend to eat up a lot of innings so a top-notch bullpen might not be as important.

You know what? This is a pretty damn good team. I'll bet they could win 80-90 games. Put them in the National League and they might end up making it to the World Series. How great would that be?

Play ball, my Asian brothers!

Cross-posted over at Rice Daddies.

Is there any better time of year than the start of Major League Baseball? I just got my season tickets in the mail and I'm looking forward to long summer evenings at Shea Stadium. We love going to Met games as a family. In fact, I think BossLady holds the Shea Stadium record for most cotton candy consumed during a single game. And Peanut thinks the greatest thing in the world is when everyone stands up to sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame!"  These are some of the fondest memories I think we'll all cherish as the Peanut gets older. Hopefully, she'll still want to go to the game with her old man.

Let's go Mets!

Chaos Theory: April 2008

AND SO IT BEGINS...

Recently my 3.5-year-old daughter has gotten into the habit of rolling her eyes at me and sighing. Are you freaking kidding me? It starts that early? I thought I had at least another 5 years.

Oh well...at least she doesn't give me the hand and say "whatevah!"

TV: TOOL OF THE DEVIL OR MAGICAL PARENTING MACHINE?

Am I a bad parent because I'm trying to teach my daughter how to operate the remote controls for the TV so I can get a few extra hours of sleep on the weekends? It's frustrating as hell. I don't understand why she can't comprehend the concept of powering up the plasma with the black remote, turning on the cable and 5.1 surround sound system with the silver remote, and then switching on the Tivo with the white remote. Jesus Christ! How hard can it be? Even my parents can do it!

CHASING IMMORTALITY AND NORMAL-COLORED PEE

I recently read an interview in Wired magazine with Raymond Kurzweil, the brilliant scientist and pioneer in the fields of health, artificial intelligence, the technological singularity, and futurism. Apparently, he has been working with several of the world's leading longevity physicians and is on an advanced nutritional regimen that involves taking 180 to 210 vitamins and mineral supplements a day.

Hell, I figured this couldn't hurt so I started trying a modified version. I started taking some advanced multivitamins, niacin, Coenzyme Q10, and CLA.

I stopped after one week because my pee looked like nuclear waste from Chernobyl. It was radioactive yellow. I've never seen anything like it in my entire life. It also smelled like the urine of a Frenchman who had been subsisting solely on a diet of asparagus, Gorgonzola cheese, and andouillette.

Too much information? Sorry, my friends. Let's move on.

THREE (MORE) PHRASES I NEVER THOUGHT WOULD COME OUT OF MY MOUTH

(1) "For the last time, I do NOT want to look at your poop."

(2) "Please stop shoving edamame up your nose."

(3) "I really don't like it when you wake me up by licking my entire face."

 

READING IS FUNDAMENTAL

Been on a bit of a reading tear over the past two weeks. And because so many readers often e-mail me and ask what I'm reading, I thought I'd do another set of short book reviews.

Quick thoughts:

Lush Life: A Novel (Richard Price): It's only April but this has to be on the short list for one of the best American books of the year. Presently, there is no better writer chronicling urban life in this country. His dialog and attention to detail are masterful.

His Illegal Self (Peter Carey): I've always been amazed by Carey's versatility. His ability to master so many different genres, his brilliant sense of social context, and poetic mastery of the English language make him one of our greatest modern authors. However, I think I must be the only person on the planet who didn't like this book. I just didn't "get" it.

The Player of Games (Iain M. Banks): I used to read a lot of science fiction when I was younger. Mostly stuff like Asimov or Bradbury. I hadn't really read any in over 20 years. A friend sent me this and I have to admit that I thoroughly enjoyed it. I didn't know people whose work focused on science fiction could also be such talented literary writers.

Bangok 8 (John Burdett): Don't believe the hype. I give this book the finger. This so-called exotic thriller romanticizes Thailand in a patently absurd and shallow manner. You'll feel no human connection to any of the chapters and the plot lines take forever to develop. If you're interested in this genre, check out Colin Cotterill's series of mysteries set in Laos. Much better written.

Also, I'm pleased to announce that two friends of mine have released books this past week. Rebecca Woolf's "Rockabye: From Wild to Child" chronicles her entry into motherhood and Pamela Paul's "Parenting, Inc." breaks down the business of parenting. I've received advance copies of both and am still reading them. They're both fantastic reads. Go check them out!

PARENTING JOKE OF THE DAY

One night a wife found her husband standing over their newborn baby's crib. Silently she watched him. As he stood looking down at the sleeping infant, she saw on his face a mixture of emotions: disbelief, doubt, delight, amazement, enchantment, skepticism.

Touched by this unusual display and the deep emotions it aroused, with eyes glistening she gently slipped her arms around her husband.

"A penny for your thoughts," she whispered in his ear.

"It's fucking amazing!" he replied. "I just can't see how anybody can make a crib like that for only $46.50!"

This joke is dedicated to my friend Greg at DaddyTypes, who has taught me that there are more people than I ever would have imagined who can afford to spend $3,000 on a crib!

LIFE IMITATING ART

My daughter and I spend a lot of time together so it's only natural that she's picked up some of my colloquialisms and expressions. However, she's at that age where she will instinctively pick up any adult phrase and start employing it immediately with her peers. I had no idea how far things had gone until I went to visit her at daycare the other day.

As we all sat in a circle listening to the teacher quietly read us a story, one of the Peanut's classmates let out an audible fart. Immediately, my tiny little daughter stood up and yelled, "Hey, who stepped on a duck?" Her comedic timing was impeccable.

I've never been so mortified and proud at the same time.

WHY DO I FEEL LIKE I'M MISSING SOMETHING HERE?

Asked for a reaction to the news that he'd been endorsed by reality-soap bad girl Heidi Montag of "The Hills," John McCain told Time magazine: "I’m honored to have Heidi’s support and I want to assure her that I never miss an episode of 'The Hills,' especially since the new season started."

 

THE TERRORISTS HAVE WON!!!

Have you seen this mind-boggling article in Philadelphia magazine? Over the course of the piece, we learn about:

1. An eight-year-old receiving a bikini wax.

2. A ten-year-old getting microdermabrasion.

3. Numerous children under ten getting highlights.

4. Nine-year-olds getting professional makeup lessons from Vogue photo-shooting makeup artists.

5. Birthday parties where all the little girls get a full day's worth of beauty treatments.

Apparently today's girls are spending much of their time looking in the mirror. They have a new obsession — a self-obsession — and it's being aided and abetted by their mothers. What the hell is wrong with these mothers? Why can't they just let their kids be kids?  Shouldn't we call Protective Services on them?

This disturbing beauty obsession among young girls has apparently gotten to the point that there is a chain of full-service spas/salons targeting young girls scheduled to launch soon.

This makes me gasp, cringe, cry, throw up, and want to send my daughter off to a convent. With all that's going on in the world around us, it's hearing things like this that make me lose my faith in humanity. 

Oy vey, someone get me a freaking cocktail.

Patria Potestas (Daddy Power!)

When I first started this blog, I never really believed that anyone would be interested in hearing a guy blather on about fatherhood.

After all, let's face it. We still live in a world where men are not really encouraged to discuss their inner feelings. Most of us just don't want to hear about it.

If society has taught us anything, it's that there's a fine line between being a strong, confident man who is in touch with his feelings and being a giant wuss who cries at every father-daughter dance, likes to bake banana bread, and loves Jane Campion movies. Iron Man meet Iron John.

So yeah, really, who the fuck would want to listen to some random NYC Asian-American dude talk about being a dad?

But four years, ten pounds, and two colonoscopies later here I am. Still standing.

In fact, this is my 337th post. It's hard to believe. 337 times I've released my mental diarrhea out into the public arena. Who knew I even had that much to say?

Since its inception, this blog has been my own personal soapbox. It not only serves as a place for me to transcribe my personal journey into fatherhood but also lets me vent about the truly important issues of the day that seriously affect all of us.

Like sitting at the pediatrician's office yesterday, I jotted down an observation. Look, I wrote it on this napkin. It says: DO SOMETHING FUNNY ABOUT BABY DROOL. You see, that's the joy in writing this blog. Taking on the big guys.

Anyway, four years ago when I started this site, there weren't really any dad bloggers around. In fact, as far as I knew, it was just me, Greg, LOD and a small handful of others.

Then, along came Dutch, Danny, and Matthew. Pretty soon, more and more dads started entering the blogosphere. It's almost as if they started springing up in waves. I loved it. I've always enjoyed reading new dad blogs and wanted to give all of them as much attention as I possibly could. In fact, whenever I had free time, I'd do various write-ups introducing all the new dad blogs as they came online.

As I've said many times before, mommy blogs are like the giant 800-lb gorilla of the parenting blogosphere. They are an amazing revolutionary force of sheer will, spirit, and determination. They're fantastic and I love all of them. (Don't forget I was always on your side, ladies, 'cause I don't want to get hurt in the coming revolution. And by the way, don't you all look sexy today! Did you lose some weight? Is that a new haircut?)

What the hell was I talking about again? Ah yes, mommy blogs as 800-lb gorillas. Well, if that's the case,  then daddy blogs are like the tiny gnat on the gorilla’s ass. Although our numbers are growing larger by the day, in all honesty, most people don’t even know we exist.

That's why I was so surprised to learn that Guy Kawasaki's amazing new site aggregator, ALLTOP, now has a channel featuring just Dads!

Alltop is an amazing, new kind of site. If you are interested in celeb gossip or politics or gaming or fashion or geeky stuff, the top posts in a wide variety of different genres are covered all in one place, without you having to load anything into a feed reader. It's absolutely brilliant.

The fact that there are now enough dad bloggers out there to justify their own channel on Alltop is amazing to me and warms the cockles of my soul. At last count, Alltop listed 81 different daddy blogs! How cool is that? I can't wait to see more and more added to the list.

Thanks to Guy and AllTop for recognizing the growing popularity of Dad bloggers. Now, go check them out here.

And if any of you know some other dad bloggers out there who either aren't on the list or I've never mentioned before, leave their URLs in the comments below.

Speaking of fathers...Al Copeland (the mack daddy of fried chicken and legendary founder of the Popeyes restaurant chain) passed away this week. I was so upset that I poured out some cajun gravy and dirty rice for my homie last night. Rest in peace, Al. Thanks for making the world a better place than it was before you entered it.

Suburban City

As a true New Yorker, I don't think I could ever live in the suburbs.

I just can't picture myself in the front yard in a robe and boxers screaming at those damn O'Reilly kids to get the hell off my damn lawn and keep their damn freaky music down. I can't stand the thought of complete strangers being able to just walk up to my front door and ring my doorbell. I also suffer from terrible allergies and have severe reactions to polo shirts, Dockers, pastel sweaters, light-beer drinkers, and Stepford wives.

But most importantly, I don't know what the hell I would do if (1) the roof leaked, (2) the basement flooded, (3) the boiler broke, or (4) I couldn't find a restaurant that delivered decent sushi.

Don't get me wrong. I don't have anything against the suburbs and I wholeheartedly understand their appeal. In many ways, the promise of a nice house with a patch of land where your kids can run around in a safe neighborhood and get a decent public school education is the very epitome of the American dream.

After all, very few immigrants would ever risk death to come here for the dream of sharing a studio apartment with 8 other people in a crime-riddled ghetto with burned-out schools and bullets flying. Hell, if they wanted that kind of life, they could have stayed in Karachi. Or Mexico City. Or Baghdad.

However, while the suburbs are personally not my cup of tea, I do often dream of living out in the country, somewhere far removed from the hustle and bustle of urban life.

I'd have an enormous house, abundant acreage, and maybe even a barn and some horses. My closest neighbors would be 5 miles away. I'd drive an old jeep and teach English or History at the local high school.  On weekends, I'd go fly fishing for trout in the creek behind our property. The Peanut and BossLady would fly kites in open fields with all the other local families. At night, we'd all come home, invite a few friends over, roast a pig, and drink some moonshine on the porch underneath the stars.

Yes, my friends. It's true.. Your favorite urban father has a part of him that has always longed for a simple Lake Wobegon life.

Although I've done a lot of things in my life, traveled all over the world, and seen some incredible things, there is a big part of me that pines for a much simpler life than one I've ever experienced. Every time I buy a jar of homemade jam, take a hay ride, or eat cotton candy at a state fair, I think about how different that life would be.

If there is a single metaphorical event that symbolizes my nostalgia for life in a simpler era, the drive-in movie is it. For years, I have always wanted to go to a drive-in theater.

Every summer, I look on the internet to see if there's one nearby. Unfortunately, I've never been able to find one within 150 miles of New York City.

Until this past weekend.

BossLady, knowing of my misguided love for drive-in theaters, made arrangements for us to go to New York City's only indoor drive-in theater and the world's smallest. It has only one car.

Started by artists Ben and Hall Smyth, DRV-IN is a temporary 350 sq ft storefront on the Lower East Side consisting of a 1965 one-of-a-kind Ford Falcon convertible, a giant indoor movie screen, painted starry skies, artificial grass, a potted tree, and a vintage popcorn popper. While the car can be reserved for as many as 6 people, BossLady thought it would be more fun if it were just the two of us. Needless to say, she was right and I had a total blast.

This month, DRV-IN is featuring a list of films that feature Ford Mustangs. We chose the French film, "La Femme Nikita."

Together we sat in the back seat, drank some beers, ate some popcorn, and were ushered back to a time when going to the movies didn't mean packing up the car, driving out to the homogenized chain theater and being forced to sit through 30 minutes of commercials for Starbucks, McDonalds, and American Express while being price gouged for a $15 combo of soda/popcorn.

This is how movies were meant to be seen.

After the movie on Friday night, I decided to keep going with the non-urban phase.  So, on Saturday morning, the Peanut and I drove out to The Doctor's country house, where we spent the rest of the weekend going on pony rides, hunting for worms, going to the local Easter egg hunt, climbing rocks, and counting stars.

You know, I think I could almost get used to this country living.

Nahh...who am I kidding?