MetroDad

MetroDad Unplugged

Living in New York City can often be as brutal and impersonal as a cavity search in a Turkish airport.

That's why, every once in awhile, I feel the need to check myself out and disappear for some peace and quiet. I need to find someplace where I can reconnect with nature and remember that there are far more important things in life than securing the corner office, the best table at the restaurant, or those prime orchestra seats.

For me, that escape has always been camping.

When I tell people who don't know me very well how much I love camping, they always start laughing their asses off. They think I'm kidding them and truth be told, I've got to admit that I don't look like much of an outdoorsman. Not many people in the fashion industry do. Could you imagine Ralph Lauren, David Beckham or Tom Ford pitching a tent and living off hot dogs for a week?

But underneath this polished urbane veneer lies the heart of a true outdoorsman.

Since the beautiful BossLady hates camping (one word: Arachnophobia) and has been in Texas caring for her ailing father the past two weeks, I decided this would be a good time to take Peanut on her very first camping trip. I've been dying to take her camping since she was born and decided that, at the age of 3.5, she was finally ready.

A week before we left, I pitched a tent in our living room and let her take a nap in her new sleeping bag. What's the first thing she does when she gets in the tent? She throws a little tea party for her stuffed animals and then starts doing some redecorating. Girls are fucking funny.

During the weekend, we drove up to a state park in Duchess County. It was in upstate New York, right on the banks of the Hudson River. Together, we spent the weekend going on long nature hikes, building campfires, cooking s'mores, roasting hot dogs, skipping stones in the river, chasing fireflies, and learning how to crap in the woods.

It was great seeing the Peanut have so much fun. Being raised in Manhattan, she's already a true New Yorker and I often worry that she's growing up too fast or too far removed from "normal" life. After all, she's not even four years old yet she knows what to order at an Indian restaurant. She knows how to ask for the check in Chinese. She knows the subway lines that we take on a regular basis. She knows when taxis are off-duty. She knows how much to tip the parking attendants at the garage. Hell, I think she even knows the fastest way to get through midtown during rush hour!

But now, she's totally hooked on camping and I couldn't be happier. I never want to force my interests on her. I much prefer to expose her to everything and let her figure out where her own unique set of interests lie. If she didn't like camping, I would have been fine with her decision. On the other hand, it's just nice to know that sometimes the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

This was hilariously reinforced to me when, after seeing all the jeans, flannel shirts, and polar fleece that I had packed for her, the Peanut turned to me and adamantly stated, "Daddy, if we're going camping, I'm not going to wear those clothes. I'm only going to wear dresses, ok?"

What could I say? After all, she is half-fashionista on her daddy's side...

It's no secret that the best campsites are always found by word of mouth. That's why I want to hear about your favorite campsites, both in the US and abroad. Where's your secret spot and what's so great about it?  Feel free to share any good camping stories too. If you don't camp, what do you and your family do to "get away from it all?"

Blog Friends, Virtual Relationships, & The Wind in Your Vagina

Being a long-standing, card-carrying member of the "blogosphere," I often find myself pondering the state of modern-day relationships in this virtual internet age.

What does it mean to be friends with someone you only know through blogging? Are facebook friends really friends? Does knowing the details of a person's life via twitter constitute anything meaningful?

The writer Chuck Klosterman once wrote that he had 43 close friends, 196 good friends and 2,200 affable acquaintances. Close friends were people that he would phone immediately if he was diagnosed with lung cancer; good friends were people whose death from lung cancer would make him profoundly sad; and affable acquaintances were people whom he generally liked and hoped would recover from lung cancer.

He wrote that statement back in 2002, a time not so far in the distant past but one that predated the explosion of personal blogging, the proliferation of Facebook as a social network for adults, and the introduction of sites like twitter or tumblr that allow you to follow someone's immediate thoughts and activities in real time. I often wonder how the number of Klosterman's defined relationships has changed just in the past 6 years.

Living in New York, I've had the opportunity to meet not only many other fellow bloggers but also several people who simply know me from being a reader of this blog. At first, I was concerned that people's on-line personalities would prove to be far different from reality. After all, it's impossible to convey the complex entirety of one's self solely by the written word. And isn't there a human tendency to shape one's image so that we may appear more interesting (or attractive, funny, or smart) as possible?

However, after meeting so many people in the "real world" that I previously only knew in the virtual one, I have to admit that I've been amazingly surprised. Without fail, I've found that you really can get to know someone closely through the internet and that the people that you think you would like, you almost always do.

Not only have I formed close relationships with people that I previously only knew online but I've also come to realize that I have quite a few great relationships with friends that I haven't even met in person...yet. These are people that I truly care about and whose lives I am fully invested.

Now admittedly, I'm a "people person." I've never wanted to befriend people who are just like me. In fact, it's quite the opposite. I like having relationships with people who couldn't be more different from me. I enjoy being taken out of my comfort zone and I'm a firm believer that any two strangers on the planet, given enough time, can find a common ground that unites them far more than it divides them.

Being a parent is one of those universal common grounds.

I bring all of this up because I recently discovered a new parenting blog called The Wind in Your Vagina that I absolutely love. The writer is a father of two children and refers to himself online as "Black Hockey Jesus" (aka BHJ.) His writing is refreshingly smart, hilarious, and caring. He has the kind of writing talent that makes me drool with envy but I don't begrudge him a single iota because he's a uniquely iconoclastic character who is constantly barraging me with effusive complimentary e-mails. He's on a one-man mission to singlehandedly take over the internet and I have voluntarily agreed to help him in any way possible. I'm the Robin to his Batman, the Kelly to his Regis, the Porky Pig to his Daffy Duck, the Sancho Panza to his Don Quixote, the Ivory to his Ebony, and...well, you get the fucking idea. Together, we're going to make him a male version of Dooce.

Anyway, BHJ is on vacation this week so he asked me to write a guest post. I don't normally do guest posts because I barely have time to write on this blog. However, in exchange, he's promised that if I ever need to be bailed out of jail, he'll be there for me. No questions asked. He's also promised not to release that photo of me in cutoff denim shorts. How could I say no?

Go check out my guest post on BHJ's blog, The Wind in Your Vagina. Then, go read some of his earlier entries. If you're not entirely satisfied, he'll give you your money back.

Meanwhile, I'm curious to know what YOU think about virtual vs. real world relationships. Do you have close relationships with people whom you only know online? What have your experiences been like? What are your thoughts about the changing nature of relationships in the internet age?

An inquiring mind wants to know.

My Kingdom for a Cheeseburger!

Have I ever mentioned that, as a teenager, I played serious competitive tennis on the junior circuit?

One summer, in a misguided attempt to move up the rankings, I spent 6 weeks training at a hard-core tennis academy located in the living hell known as central Florida.  Every morning, I was forced to wake up at 7:00 am, run six miles, and then spend the next ten hours violently hitting tennis balls underneath the sweltering sun.

That summer was hell. Most of my time was spent throwing up on my Tretorns, massaging cramps out of my legs, and trying to figure out how to cure my interminable case of swamp ass.

It was probably one of the most painful summers of my life...until now.

At the age of 39, I think I can safely say that this has probably been the shittiest summer of my life.

It started in May when we learned that my father-in-law had cancer and was given only a few months to live. At the same time, the apparel industry in the US took a nosedive and work became infinitely more stressful. Then, I found myself having to deal with some other personal issues that I won't even begin to share with you.  

When some people get stressed out, they lose their appetites. The BossLady, for example, seems to have simply just stopped eating. She's either too depressed about her father to eat or she's too crazed at work and simply "forgets."

Now generally, I eat fairly healthy. Lots of sashimi, salads, vegetables, and egg-white omelets. Being a foodie, I eat like this so that I can enjoy my porterhouse steak and dumpling splurges without any remorse or regret.

But ever since the summer started, I've been eating like crap. Serious crap. I'm talking pepperoni pizzas, bacon-egg-and-cheese sandwiches, steak burritos, fried chicken, General Tso's chicken, homemade gnocchi in cream sauce, and any other unhealthy food saturated in fat that looked like it might provide me with comfort. I even started having dreams about those infamous Krispy Kreme bacon cheeseburgers.

Hey, I'm no doctor but this couldn't be healthy for me.

So a few weeks ago, I decided that I needed to get my body back into fighting shape. It wasn't a matter of losing weight. I just needed to give my organs a rest, clean out my system, and give myself some more discipline about what goes into my mouth.

Being one of those people who tends to commit to things a gazillion percent, I decided to take drastic measures. So ever since last week, I've been on a serious hard-core juice fast called the Blueprint Cleanse.

The idea is that the cleanse will help your body purge the "toxins" you build up in your system. All the juices are from organic raw-food fruits and vegetables. They're compressed with a special hydraulic machine that generates over 7 tons of pressure and extracts every single nutrient. Apparently, these juices contain 3-5 times the vitamins and minerals found in any other juice.

Now, I'm pretty old-school when it comes to stuff like this. I don't think there are any shortcuts in life so I don't buy into fad diets or New Age solutions. Want to get healthy? Eat some salad, hit the weight room, and put on the jogging shoes. Period.

For me, this was somewhat of a science experiment and a personal challenge. It was like that time during Yom Kippur when all my Jewish friends were fasting and I decided to try it just to test my willpower. Besides, I figured I had nothing to lose. It wasn't going to kill me, right?

Well, on Day One, it almost did.

The week before, you're supposed to gradually wean yourself off unhealthy foods and stop drinking alcohol. Me? I did the exact opposite. The night before my cleanse started, I barbecued with my neighbor Mark and ingested a mountain of chipotle short ribs, cole slaw, and cheese. I washed it all down with a few beers, some wine, and a big glass of scotch.

My first drink the next morning was a disgusting concoction of spinach, cucumber, kale, parsley, apple and lemon. It smelled like the Devil's ass and tasted even worse. Some of the juices tasted better. Some didn't.

After 24 hours on the juice fast, my body was cursing me out and threatening to mutiny. I had massive headaches, stomach pains, dry mouth, body odor, and nausea.

The next day wasn't much better. All I wanted to do was snort giant slabs of bacon, rub my naked body with cheeseburgers, and dive into a pool of burritos. I would have eaten ANYTHING.  I would have eaten your pet if you smothered it in BBQ sauce.

Clearly, this wasn't going to work for me.

But, after a few more days, a funny thing happened.  All my symptoms disappeared. I started feeling ridiculously better. My eyes were brighter. My skin looked better. My sinuses cleared up. My energy levels were through the roof. And without even trying, I lost about 8 lbs. The weirdest thing is that I haven't really been craving food at all.

Until about 5 minutes ago.

That's when I passed a street vendor grilling a pile of meat with peppers and garlic. Mmm...meat, peppers, garlic. That's like the Holy Grail for me and, for a brief second, I was about to throw discipline to the wind and reward myself with a giant gyro slathered with mayonnaise and extra hot sauce. I even got in line and busted out a $5 bill.

But suddenly, the desire to put that garbage in my stomach passed. In fact, the idea of eating it almost repulsed me. The previously aromatic smell even made me a little nauseated. What was happening to me? Had I turned a corner? Am I now addicted to a raw food healthy diet? Would Gwyneth and I soon be sharing kale milkshakes made out of soy and celery? Would I start taking up yoga and scheduling weekly colonics?

I think not, my friends, but we'll see. Stranger things have happened. I'll keep you posted.

Have any of you ever done anything like this? What's the craziest thing you've ever done to get healthy or lose weight? Any vegetarians out there? How do you do it? I can't even picture a life without meat. Then again, I never thought I'd live off juice for two weeks. What do you think?