Friday, April 12, 2013

Coolest Dad



Last Sunday, Elijah, Luca, Diana and I went to a birthday party for a little Luca friend.  Elijah immediately raced for the incredible fun and incredible germs of the bouncy castle.  Luca took his position at the entrance of the bouncy castle, his genetically inherited “Rick-ness” preventing him from actually entering.

Which left Diana and I to engage in our own kid-birthday habits.  Diana took this opportunity to inspect every inch of the house, mentally taking notes for future trips to Cost Plus World Market.

I did what I always do: Inspect all the dads to verify I am the coolest.  Yes, it’s stupid and vain and petty.  But I happen to be stupid and vain and petty. 

I scanned the dads.  There were some pretty cool guys.  But I was sure my carefully constructed outfit of blue jeans, t-shirt and Vans shoes would win me the title of “Coolest Dad In The World.”

But then HE walked in.  Shaggy haircut.  Jean jacket.  Ear rings.  Two ear rings! 

I leaned over to Diana and whispered, “Uh oh.  Looks like I may lose my ranking of coolest dad.”

Diana replied, “Yeah, but number two is still good.”

What?  No!  She was supposed to say, “Oh, that guy is a chump. You are still the coolest, by far.”

I walked across the party to get to the bottom of this guy’s coolness.  Maybe his cool was only skin deep.  All ear rings and jean jackets. 

Blah blah blah, what’s your name, who is your kid, aren’t bouncy castles cool.  So…what do you do for a living?

“Oh, well.  I’m a musician.”

Damn it!  Okay okay.  Maybe he was a struggling musician working in some gin joint for free whiskey. 

“Oh, a musician? Who do you play with?”

“It’s kind of embarrassing.  I back up Bob Mould.”

Bob Mould?  THE Bob Mould?  Alternative rock god and founder of Husker Du?  I stared into my cake, listening to him be all modest and cool and musician-y.  I nodded a few times and mumbled, “Bob Mould,” at appropriate breaks in the conversation.  

He asked me what I did and I blurted out, “Advertising.”  He lit up and said, “Oh cool!  Like Don Draper.” 

Luckily, Luca saved me by falling down and crying across the yard.  At least Luca still thought I was the coolest dad.  Just to make sure, I kept him away from Bob Mould guy.  

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