No time for a real post. Too busy trying to figure out which new television shows I want to watch. Also, my All-Star team of physicians from Mt. Sinai has me on some medication that prevents me from drinking alcohol for two weeks. I don't know if it's the pills or the lack of booze but I think I'm developing adult-onset ADD.
Anyway, here's some mental diarrhea that needs to be purged before I plunge further into JWBSW (Johnnie Walker Black Scotch Withdrawal)
MY KINGDOM FOR A COCKTAIL
Speaking of booze, the fact that I'm not drinking these days has got me contemplating the state of my own sobriety. Personally, I think there's a pretty wide line between enjoying a good cocktail and full-blown alcoholism. For example, although I like having a nightly glass of scotch, I've yet to ask the waitress at Denny's what wine comes with the Grand Slam breakfast. Good for me, right?
Now I don't know whether alcoholism is caused by genetic predisposition or not. However, I'm slightly uncomfortable calling it a disease. I empathize with those who struggle with addiction but, in my opinion, cancer is a disease. Alcoholism is self-induced. Think about it. Do you really feel bad for alcoholics who can go to 7-11, buy a case of Bud, and feed their disease? As Dennis Miller once said, it's not like lymphoma victims are going around chugging ice cold cans of cancer juice, right?
The only thing I have against drinking is when drunks get behind the wheel of an automobile. It fucking infuriates me that celebrities like Kiefer Sutherland, Nick Nolte or Lindsay Lohan continue to get pulled over for drunk driving so frequently. Did you know that, nationwide, drunk drivers kill an innocent person every 25 minutes? More than 5,000 children each year are killed by drunk drivers. As a parent, this scares the shit out of me. What the fuck is it going to take for these people to wake up?
Sorry for the rant. That concludes today's public service announcement.
YOU WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOUR CHILD, WON'T YOU?
I like to think it's a given that we all make hard sacrifices for our children. Sometimes that sacrifice is measured by donating a kidney or taking a bullet: other times, it's by the fact that you're working two jobs in order to raise them in a safe neighborhood. I think most of us who believe in the inherent goodness of mankind understand these sacrifices.
However, before you become a parent, nobody ever tells you the other things that you will do for your children simply because you love them more than anything else.
As a little kid, I always thought I'd spend my days as an international spy. At night, I'd drive my Aston Martin to Monte Carlo for friendly games of high-stakes baccarat.
Never in a million years did I ever imagine that I'd end up spending my nights patiently allowing my daughter to put dozens of pink hairpins in my luxuriant black hair while petting me on the head and loudly exclaiming, "Daddy, you're soooo pretty!"
Nor did I ever imagine getting completely sick because I tap danced down West Broadway in a torrential downpour while twirling my umbrella and singing, "Singing in the Rain" --- solely because the Peanut kept yelling, "sing the rain song, Daddy! Sing it NOW!"
Man, I'll do anything for that little munchkin.
NO BUSINESS LIKE SHOW BUSINESS
After my last post, a reader e-mailed me inquiring whether BossLady and I had ever thought about sending the Peanut out on auditions so she could get into "entertainment."
Personally, I think it's hard enough to have a normal childhood without being exposed to something as numbingly vapid as show business. I've always believed that entertainment lures the type of people who didn't get enough attention early in life and have grown up to become bottomless vessels of abject need. Ever spend time with a bunch of actors and actresses? For the most part, they're a very insecure lot yet they all have that "LOOK AT ME NOW" component wired into their personalities.
Look, I think my kid is absolutely adorable. However, I also like to think that ALL parents think their kids are adorable. But that doesn't make them actors; it just makes us parents. If you honestly think one kid is that much cuter than any other, you're missing the point. All kids are cute. There is no such thing as a kid who isn't cute. The trick in parenting is to make sure your kids are still cute when they become adults.
And the best way to guarantee that is to keep them the fuck out of show business.
TODDLER BIRTHDAY PARTIES
Three-year-old kids are really cute but they're really fucking dumb. A few weeks ago, I sat Peanut down with a bag of Oreos and asked her whether she wanted a birthday party or a cookie. Naturally, she chose the cookie.
Hah! Who's smarter than a toddler? That's right, baby. THIS guy!
In case you didn't know, toddler birthday parties in Manhattan can easily cost several thousand dollars. What does that get you? Three hours of playtime in an indoor facility, some out-of-work actors singing songs in costume, a couple of cold pizzas, and a birthday cake.
Now, I love my kid more than anything but the day I spend that kind of money on a birthday party is the day that I start lighting my cigarettes with $100 bills while snorting lines of beluga caviar in my private jet. It ain't ever going to happen, my friends.
Instead, we celebrated Peanut's birthday by having an awesome family day at the Central Park Zoo with the grandparents. Peanut had the time of her life and won't stop talking about it. Total cost: $28.00. Boo yah!
THE DOG DAYS OF BEING A DOG
I'm not sure whether it's fair to have a dog after you have a kid. Before Peanut was born, MetroDog was our little baby. We'd celebrate his birthdays with special doggie cake. We'd take him on vacations around the world. We'd have him bathed and groomed on a monthly basis. And, naturally, he was always sporting a fresh look because BossLady loved buying clothes for him.
Now MetroDog is like a red-headed step-child with tuberculosis. The poor dude only gets a fraction of the attention that he used to. He doesn't go on playdates with other dogs. He's constantly being chased around the apartment by Peanut and her friends. And he hasn't had a bath in so long that he's emitting a smell which I can't begin to describe except to say, imagine if Glade made an air freshener in a fragrance called Ass.
To make matters worse, BossLady and I realized that we forgot his 6th birthday a few weeks ago. Happy belated birthday, my canine friend. We're so sorry and we promise to make it up to you. After all, you are the coolest dog in downtown Manhattan.
SEX IN THE CITY
My brilliantly talented younger brother, MetroBro, is single. So naturally, as married people, BossLady and I love hearing his stories about dating in Manhattan. Yesterday, I received an e-mail from him that I feel compelled to share with all of you. If you're not of Asian descent, you may or may not find it as hilarious as I do. Anyway, here it is...
I realized something funny the other day as I was browsing through Match.com profiles. I kept on seeing a ton of girls who listed "Native American" as one of their preferences -- very often paired with "White/Caucasian."
This struck me as odd for two reasons. One, there are so few honest-to-god indians in NYC -- probably fewer than the number of girls looking for them on Match -- so how strange is it that so many girls seemed to want this? Two, to the extent that there are girls out there with a taste for some Apache action, isn't it weird that so many of them were also looking for white guys? Wouldn't girls looking for Native American guys be likely to be more multi-culti in their other preferences, i.e., if you like red, wouldn't you also be looking for black, brown, and yellow?
Then I noticed that a lot of the girls looking for Native Americans were FOBs -- not just Asians, but immigrants from all over: Europe, the Carribean, Latin America, etc.
That's when I suddenly realized that p.c. terminology doesn't travel internationally and that in all likelihood these girls think "Native American" means "someone who was born in the U.S."!
LMAAAO* at the thought of all these newly-arrived women opening their mailboxes and wondering why they keep on getting emails from dudes with Match screen names like "lightfoot75" and "woundedkneenyc."
*laughing my Asian American ass off
See why he's my brother?
DOING WELL BY DOING GOOD
Most of you parents with autistic children are likely very familiar with Cure Autism Now (CAN.) For those of you who are not, CAN is an amazing organization of parents, clinicians and leading scientists
who are committed to accelerating the pace of biomedical research in autism
through raising money for research projects, education and outreach.
Founded by parents of children with autism in 1995, they've grown from a kitchen-table effort to the largest provider of
support for autism research and resources in the entire world.
Even before I got married and had a child, I often donated money to CAN and attended several of their NYC events. They're a great organization and if anybody is ever going to find a cure for autism, it will no doubt be partly due to the tireless, ongoing efforts of CAN.
Now for a slight digression...
Most long-time readers know that, when it comes to this site, I tend to shy away from self-promotion. Over the past few years, this blog has received a lot of press in various newspapers and publications. However, I rarely ever mention any of this because I don't write this blog to bring attention to myself. I write here simply because it's a place for me to share my thoughts and engage with a great community of people. Shit, I'm no writer. I'm just a regular guy with a little extra time on his hands.
Now, I totally get the fact that there are a lot of bloggers out there who have different motives for their own sites. That's cool but it's not really my cup of tea. For the most part, I find that type of blogging can be somewhat of a whore's business and nothing turns me off a site faster than blatant self-promotion. Sometimes I look around and I see more chest pounding going on than a 24-hour marathon of "ER."
That being said, I'm going to break my personal embargo on self-promotion because it's for a good cause.
In a strange turn of events, CAN is having their annual Los Angeles celebrity fundraiser, Acts of Love 2007, next week. Acts of Love 2007 is a one-night only celebration of children in the words of those that love them, with inspiring celebrity readings and musical performances to raise money for autism. Last year, this one night alone raised more than $200,000 for autism research!
Anyway, it turns out that a producer for the benefit is a fan of my blog and asked me whether they could use some of my posts for the celebrity reading. Naturally, I agreed and said they were free to use anything they wanted. As it turns out, two of my pieces were selected and will be read at next week's benefit by Jason Alexander and Catherine O'Hara. Cool, eh?
So for any of you in the Los Angeles area who might be interested in attending the benefit, you can buy tickets here. It's next Monday (October 15) and will take place at the Geffen Playhouse. I've attended several of their NYC benefits in the past and they're always a lot of fun.
If you can't attend, you can always make a donation or get involved with CAN so you can continue to help them fight the good fight.