Subscribe via feed.


Posted by Mick on April 26, 2010 – 10:07 pm

One of my best friends is a father.

I’ve had friends who were fathers when I met them.  And I’ve had friends become fathers after we had drifted apart.

After we had drifted apart?  What a melodramatic statement.  Here’s the thing, though.  As hard as I try to distill it into a pithy statement, it wants to come out as a full fledged story, along with deep philosophical musings on the nature of friendship, and as interesting as that would be (and make no mistake, it would be fascinating) that’s not the story I sat down to write, and the story I sat down to write is much more important.  If not quite as fascinating.

This is different.  This is my friend.  This is the guy I get into trouble with.  He’s not supposed to be… this responsible.

My friend Matt is now a father.  Matt was one of the first friends I made when I moved to Austin.  Matt became one of the best friends I’ve ever had.  Matt helped drag me out of my social isolation.  Matt was a friend I bonded with over film, and music.  Matt was a guy I got in more than a little bit of trouble with.

Matt and I had a motto for awhile.  It was a good night if you got a story out of it.  We have lots of stories.  Some of them will never be told in print.

And now he’s a father.  And if you think I’m making a big deal out of nothing, you’re about half right, but mostly for the wrong reasons.

The big deal isn’t that a friend of mine is a parent.  Any guy with functional genitalia and access to a willing female can do that.

Matt is a father.  I know Matt, better than I know almost anyone in the world, and I know that Matt will be an excellent father.  This child will never doubt that he is loved.  This child will never be afraid to tell his father anything.

It might not be an Ozzie and Harriet childhood.  Matt and Stephanie have already bought the child a ticket to Willie Nelson’s 4th of July Picnic.  He’ll be 4 months old.  He’ll be at Mojo’s Mayhem a month before his 1st birthday.  He’ll be watching the Texas Chainsaw Massacre by the time he’s 5.  How can he grow into anything but the coolest kid ever?

His father named him Cash.  As in Johnny Cash.  Yeah, he’s gonna be cool.

Here’s the difference between the parent and the father.  I’ve seen people who bring their kids to events like this because they can’t do anything else with them.  They’re parents.  Matt will take his kid everywhere because he wants the kid to be there, to have the experience, and he wants to share it with him.  The child will not spend all day at the picnic.  They’ll bring him out for a few hours, and then he will be returned to a safe and secure location.  As he gets older, the times will increase.  The point is, he’ll be with his Mom and Dad who are spending time with their child.  As opposed to the parents who bring their kids to a show and then let them run wild.  Or the ones who bring a kid out and make him sit there, ignored and frightened.  And who do you think you are anyway to question my friends and their motives?  Frankly, I think it’s a bit presumptive of you to cast such aspersions.

If I had a child, I’d want Matt to be his father.  That says quite a bit about how good a father I think Matt will be.  It also says volumes about how good a father I think I’d be.

Then again, I’ll probably be a great Uncle.  Not a Great Uncle.  An exceptional Uncle.  Perhaps a superior Uncle. The kind of Uncle who is determined to introduce the child to all that is weird and twisted, years before the MPAA thinks he’s ready.

Tonight was my first actual exposure to the progeny of which we speak.  I didn’t hold him, but I watched Tara hold him.  I don’t really do babies.  When he’s old enough to get me, we’ll talk.  When he’s old enough for me to explain to him that yes, hair metal is fun, but that doesn’t mean it’s good.  I figure that will be about age 3.  Maybe 4.

My prose is degenerating into an over-italicized mess, perhaps I should call it an evening.  I’ve got a big night tomorrow.  Tara and I were lucky enough to get in to an early screening of Iron Man 2.  I liked the first Iron Man, but I’m primarily excited about seeing Mickey Rourke sink his teeth into a super-villain role.  Especially one with lightning whips.  I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow night.

Be good to each other.

This post is under “Uncategorized” and has no respond so far.
If you enjoy this article, make sure you subscribe to my RSS Feed.

Post a reply

Get Adobe Flash playerPlugin by wordpress themes