As many of you know, this has been James Frey bitch slap week. For fictionalizing his best-selling confessional memoir “A Million Little Pieces,” Mr. Frey has deservedly been condemned by virtually every journalist and media outlet in the country.
It is therefore with great embarrassment that I too must confess to several “inadvertent errors” that may have misled you, my dear MetroDad readers, into believing that several previously disclosed facts about myself are actually absolute truisms. In coming clean with you, I hope to curtail what might surely have become a groundswell of outrage and moral indignation.
In all honesty, I like to think that any omissions that occurred in previous posts here on MetroDad were for literary effect. As Ruch Reichl, in the introduction to her memoirs, put it “Everything here really is true, but it may not be entirely factual.”
Nonetheless, on the advice of my attorneys, I think you should know a few things…
- I am not, in fact, a father. In actuality, I'm not really a big fan of kids. They’re loud, messy, obnoxious and, most importantly, very expensive. Why would I want a kid? I would much rather spend my money on a beach house and a Porsche than on a little rug rat. All stories on MetroDad involving a child are actually about my 4 year-old French Bulldog.
- Nor am I even a man. Anything that suggests otherwise on this blog was done purely for marketing purposes. Due to the fact that there are approximately 46.2 million “Mommy Bloggers” but only about 17 “Daddy bloggers,” my marketing team thought it would be prudent to tap into this growing niche and promote myself as a man.
- Sadly enough, I am not, in fact, a man of Asian descent living in Manhattan. I am just a totally average white chick living in Fresno with a fondness for Wonder Bread, mayonnaise and ‘N Sync. Although I do order in Chinese food every Sunday night, the precise reasons I have been posing as an Asian-American are actually extremely complicated. Suffice it to say, a lot of it has to do with the latest Census numbers, the cinematic release of “Memoirs of a Geisha,” and the coming 2008 Olympics in China.
Ok, those were what I guess you could call the BIG errors. Not THAT big of a deal, right? However, on advice of counsel, I would also like to clear up some other inadvertent errors that may have misled some of you…
- Stories from my early childhood that involved saving a girl from being crushed by a falling shelf, joining the Sunflower Girls troop, secretly recording household conversations and constantly referring to myself as “Scoop,” did not actually happen to me, but rather to the character Peter Brady on “The Brady Bunch.”
- Similarly, my later years spent as a disillusioned teenager growing up in an industrial town as the leader of a gang, being abandoned by my mother, the ensuing reappearance of my older brother, and subsequent emotional breakthrough with the help of said older brother did not actually happen to me, but rather to Matt Dillon in the film “Rumble Fish,” which I saw at a very young age, and which I could have sworn happened to me.
- The time that I spent in prison for a crime I never committed was also slightly embellished. I’ve never actually been in prison. However, I do have a fondness for prison films and, when I was 14, my parents took me to Alcatraz. On the way out there, I saw some seals!
- Sometimes, in a memoir, one combines certain elements of a recurring theme into a single coherent story. This literary device is usually done for the purposes of expediency. In my case, I have combined my many stories of drug and alcohol abuse into a single recurring story. In reality, these stories are actually plot summaries of the following movies: “Drugstore Cowboy,” “Barfly,” “Permanent Midnight,” and “Trainspotting.”
Finally, I’d like to say that taking liberties with the truth is a time-honored memoir tradition that applies equally as well to the world of blogging. After all, the word “memoir” has its etymological origins in French. And you know those people are HUGE liars, right? Besides, would you really come visit here if you knew I was just another white chick with a fondness for knitting, cats, sunsets and travel? You would? Really? No shit?
Ok, then come by tomorrow where I tell you my favorite story about yarn. See ya!