MetroDad

Sine Qua Non: Only in Long Island

Do any of you remember the TV show from the 70's called "Zoom"?  It was a PBS show produced by WGBH in Boston and it was the first television program hosted entirely by kids. 

Anyone remember it?  No?  Damn, I'm getting old!

When I was a little boy, "Zoom" was one of my favorite TV shows.  One episode, in particular, made a very memorable impression on me.  In it, the "Zoom" kids went to visit a man who had built these incredible treehouses in the forest, all of them on different trees and connected with one another via an elaborate system of planks and walkways.  It was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen and, from that day on, I became obsessed with treehouses. 

Sadly, I never got my treehouse.  Instead, I scoured the streets looking for people who had bought new appliances and were throwing the boxes away on the street.  Back then, finding a refrigerator box was a huge score.  I'd drag the box home, carve out some windows with an Exacto knife, paint the sides, and throw in my sleeping bag.  Voila!  Instant treehouse!  Once finished, I would hole myself inside the box for days with my collection of comics, my baseball cards and my Encyclopedia Brown books.  Ahhh...good times, my friends.  Good times. 

Anyway, in the latest of my "Only in New York" series, I've discovered that one of the latest trends in local parenting is to have a professional architect build your kid's treehouse.  According to this NY Magazine article, some of these treehouses are going for prices well over $100,000!!!

Here are two examples of what you get for your money...

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How amazingly cool is that?  Man, I'm 37 years old and I'd STILL love to have a treehouse like that.  In fact, that one treehouse on the right looks bigger than my first apartment in Manhattan.  And I'll bet it doesn't have crack whores living next door either!

Now, I know some of you are going to rant about the moral depravity involved in dropping that kind of dough on a fucking treehouse.  After all, the disparity beween the rich and poor in this country is growing faster than Rush Limbaugh's rap sheet.  The number of CEOs making over $20 million per year has increased exponentially over the past few years (even as the companies they managed went bankrupt) and more and more people are struggling like hamsters in a giant Habitrail just to maintain a middle-class standard of living.  Our national and personal savings accounts are the lowest they've been in generations.  Our health care system is an Orweillian nightmare.  And the paltry amount of money spent on education in this country seems likely to ensure that future generations will probably be woefully unprepared to compete in the global marketplace. 

Now, many of you know I don't like to discuss politics on this site.  However, I will say that I'm generally in favor of capitalism.  As Dennis Miller once said, all the other systems have worked out about as well as a Lee Greenwood booking in Baghdad.  My only beef with the system is that it puts a bunch of crusty old rich guys on Capitol Hill in charge of determining how best to allocate resources so that we have better schools and social programs to help those who are less fortunate. 

Besides, let's be honest.  Who among us doesn't want to be rich?  Who hasn't bought a lottery ticket when the jackpot is over $200 million?  Who doesn't want to never worry about providing for one's family?  Nobody should feel guilty about it.  Trying to get rich is practically our national pastime. 

It's heartening to see guys like Warren Buffet and Bill Gates give away the vast majority of their fortunes in order to improve the betterment of mankind.  I hope they motivate other rich dudes to do the same thing.  However, if they'd rather spend their money on treehouses that cost $100K?  Well, God bless 'em.  Who are we to tell anybody how to spend their own money?  Sorry.  It doesn't work like that, comrades!

Anyway, I'm babbling.  I'd just like to end this by saying that if any uber-wealthy readers out there would like to buy my family a $100K treehouse, we'd be more than happy to accept your largess. 

Alternatively, we'll also take any empty refrigerator boxes you might have.

(By the way, on the off chance that there are any "older" readers out there who, like me, fondly remember the TV show "Zoom," then check this out.)

 

LeahPeah Interview

As many of you know, I detest blog awards or competitions.  The whole idea of a blogging competition seems so antithetical to what blogging should really be about.  For me, the beauty of blogging is the sense of community that it engenders.  Anything that pits bloggers against one another is not something that I want to be a part of. 

However, it's nice to be recognized for the effort it takes to maintain a blog.  And although  I keep waiting for People Magazine to do an issue on the "The 50 Most Beautiful Bloggers," it doesn't look like it's going to happen anytime soon.  Therefore, the current pinnacle of blog recognition and appreciation continues to be LeahPeah's "Cewebrity Interviews."

In all seriousness, I've been hooked on these interviews ever since the one she did with Heather Armstrong of dooce.  Since then, she's also conducted interviews with famous bloggers like defective yeti, mimi smartypants, finslippy, suburban bliss, Jason Kottke, Sarah Brown  and MIM.  These aforementioned bloggers are like the A-List of the blogging universe and I've been admiring their writing for several years.

Therefore, it was more than a little humbling when Leah asked to interview me about MetroDad.  At first, I thought she was kidding.  I felt like a sheep in wolf's clothing.  However, I have an enormous amount of respect for Leah.  Without going into any details, she's led a life that most of us could never imagine.  So despite my apprehensions about being in such exalted company, I agreed to be interviewed. 

However, as Malcolm X once said, "sitting at the table doesn't make you a diner."

Anyway, if you're interested, go read the interview where I reveal my true identity, confess my deepest secrets, and and TRY not to make a total ass out of myself. 

Sine Qua Non: Only in Park Slope

When I was a little kid, we used to sell lemonade on the sidewalk.  The going rate was about $0.25 per cup. 

In junior high, we used to walk around Sheep's Meadow in Central Park and sell bottles of water for $1.00. 

Now, I know having a kid these days is different from previous generations.  Kids (especially those that grow up in the city) are so mature and cosmopolitan at such a young age that it continues to astound me.  It's particularly fascinating to be dining at a restaurant, only to hear a 5-year old kid at the next table ask whether the frisee salad comes with portabella or porcini mushrooms and whether it's possible to substitute cantalet for the aged reggiano. 

But now?  I think I've seen everything...

Only in New York.  Only in Park Slope.

(AstroPop via Eater.)

Win Fame & Prizes in the 1st Annual MetroDad Tagline Contest!

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Lately, I've been noticing the tag lines on a few of my favorite blogs and laughing my ass off.  For some reason, it's only now that I'm realizing how funny and clever some of them are.  Here are a few of my favorites:

"Neither representing nor keeping it real" - Dooce

"You don't know what it is, but you know you like it." - Finslippy

"Proof my children will be using their college funds for therapy." - Cynical Dad

"25% of human genes are the same as a banana.  Get over yourself!" - Banana

"I affirm your worth!  Seacrest out!" - Suburban Bliss

"I just LOOK like I'm wearing my pajamas." - Sweatpants Mom

"Where sacred cows are slaughtered and served medium rare." - Alex Blagg

Needless to say, I think I need a new catchphrase for the MetroDad site.  Somehow, the tagline "I Rant, Therefore I Am" isn't doing it for me anymore.  However, after trying to come up with some new taglines, I'm realizing that I'm absolutely terrible at this.  After thinking so hard that I got a brain freeze, the only ideas I had were...

MetroDad: "Finally, a website we can let the servants read!"

MetroDad:  "No batteries included and no strings attached."

MetroDad: "Not as good as it used to be."

Pretty fucking lame, eh?  I really can't come up with anything.  Maybe I'm overthinking the whole issue.  Anyway, instead of giving myself an aneurysm, I decided to do what I always do when I need some honest advice...

I turn to the internet.

I'm always boasting to my friends that my readers are the smartest, funniest and wittiest people out there.  Whereas most of society believes me to be a pompous ass, you guys "get" me.  Therefore, who better to come up with a tagline for the site than you guys? 

But I'm throwing out a twist here and offering a prize for the most creative tagline.  Winner (as determined by myself, the BossLady and the Sweepstakes Division of Price Waterhouse) will be the lucky recipient of a brand-new portable Insignia DVD Player.  (Yes, this is the same DVD player that I wrote about a little while ago.)  It's a very cool product that would be great for long summer drives in the car, airplane trips to see the grandparents, hanging out in the backyard, or watching porn in the bedroom. 

So, enter to get yours now!  No purchase necessary!  Enter as often as you like!

I know a lot of you readers are in advertising (Mom-101, Bacon Grease, Virgo, Concha et al.) so you may have a slight advantage here.  However, I only need one good tagline so I'm hoping that someone can come up with something clever that epitomizes the essence of this site. 

Ready, set, go!

(UPDATE, July 5:  Congrats to SpikeyMikeP who wins with "Poppycock from a Cocky Pop."  These were some great entries and I think I'll start alternating them on a semi-regular basis.  Thanks for playing, everyone!)

In Nomine Patris (In the Name of the Father)

Daddy bloggers have always been the red-headed stepchildren of the internet. 

When the mass media covers the the "phenomenon" of blogging, they usually focus on blogs pertaining to politics, technology, celebrity gossip or media.  In the parenting realm, the coverage usually only focuses on the so-called "mommy blogs."  Very rarely do you hear anything about the XY chromosomal component of the parenting equation.

However, as my favorite daddy-blogger Greg pointed out, recent articles highlighting Father's Day have led the media to shed some light on the phenomenon of Daddy blogs.  As Greg puts it, perhaps dadblogs are the new hotness.

Here are links to some articles featuring Daddy blogs:

Hey Dude, are you there?  It's me, daddyblogger  (Austin American-Stateman)

21st-century dads turn to blogs for help (Seattle P.I.)

Rise of the Daddy Blog (NY Daily News)

I'm proud to be mentioned in the above articles.  However, as I've always said in the past, the one thing I love about Daddy blogs is the great sense of community that they engender.   I think it's a great tribute to modern day society that there are so many fathers out there taking very active roles in parenting and struggling with issues that have traditionally been pigeonholed into being the domain mainly of mothers.   And while mothers have often used blogs to document their forays into parenthood, it's nice to see more dads do the same. 

That's why I've always tried to recognize and promote other daddy blogs.  There are so few of them out there and I truly enjoy reading all of them.  Though, as individuals, we may be wildly different in our personalities and characters, there is a unique sense of bonding due to the fact we're all experiencing fatherhood in a way that's much different from previous generations.  Men traditionally haven't spent a lot of time thinking about being good fathers.  While reading all the various daddy blogs, it's nice to see that the old attitudes are changing for the better. 

Anyway, here are some of the newest daddy blogs that I've been enjoying lately...

The Bradstein Household

Coming at you from Northern Virginia, Papa Bradstein is a soon-to-be father who happens to be the real-life neighbor and real-life friend of my blogging buddy Banana (personal connections are so confusing in the 21st century, aren't they?)  He and his wife (affectionately called "Mama") are expecting their first child this summer.  Not only is Papa Bradstein a truly great guy but also it's been highly entertaining to watch him struggle with the pending arrival of his child.  It brings back fond memories of all the sleepless nights I had either staring at the ceiling or trying to build baby furniture.  Go visit Papa B and tell him to relax!

And then there was a pickle...

Pickle's Papa is an extremely thoughtful and deep-thinking man who started his blog to vent and release some of his deepest fears and frustrations about fatherhood.  He's a complicated dude with an interesting past.  However, I absolutely love the way his mind works.  He often says the things that I dare not say aloud.  In many ways, he might be my dark-sided twin.  Or maybe I'm his dark-sided twin.  Either way, Pickle's Papa is a great guy, an interesting read, and a cool dude with a profound love for his little daughter. 

Zygote Daddy

ZD is a grad student studying ecology.  A San Francisco native, he now finds himself in the middle of Iowa, awaiting the birth of his first child.  Aside from the fact that he shares my love of grammar and is one of the few other people I know who reads "Elements of Style" for fun, I dig reading Zygote Daddy because he carries a healthy dose of skepticism with him at all times, likes to make fun of Iowa and tosses around phrases like "embroyonic gustatory autocracy" in his posts (like I'm supposed to understand what he's talking about.)  In all honesty, he seems to be a genuinely nice guy with a big bleeding heart.  He writes sincerely about becoming a father and I have no doubt he'll be a great one.

The Hygiene Chronicles

Steve is not a new blogger.  He is, however, a very cool dad who recently started contributing to the blogfathers and I highlight him here because it's refreshing to read the chronicles of a gay dad who shares his life with his partner of 14 years and his 3 1/2 year old son.  He's a hilarious guy who doesn't know much about football or sports.  However, we do share a love of American Idol, Aveda bath soaps, and raising a kid.  I don't know whether that says more about him or me!  But go check out his blog and enjoy the ramblings of a cool dad. 

Denver Dad

How can you not like a guy whose profile describes himself as "a dad and and Crusader for Social Justice?"  Denver Dad is another regular guy whose blog chronicles his journey into fatherhood.  He's honest, self-deprecating and sincere.  One of his favorite posts of mine discussed how he can no longer spend money without thinking in terms of how many cases of diapers he could buy with the same amount of money (i.e. a tank of gas equals 1 box of diapers, a used car equals 285 boxes.) 

VampDaddy

As far as I can tell, VampDaddy isn't a vampire.  However, he is a self-described weird guy with a 16-month old son.  Not only does he share my love of alternative 80's music but he also struggles with all the decisions that modern parenthood requires.  But instead of stressing about it, he always takes a very thoughtful and light-hearted approach to parenting. 

p-man

Lastly, I'm including a man who does not have his own blog but should.  P-man is an occasional contributor to his wife's site, mother-woman.  Many of you know Mo-Wo as a much-beloved figure in the parenting blogosphere.  She's nice, thoughtful, polite, and generous.  p-man?  Not so much!  All kidding aside, he's my favorite curmudgeon.  At times, he's pissed off me, Dutch and God-knows-who-else in the parenting blogosphere.  But I truly do love reading the guy.  He's ridiculously bright, well-read and an excellent writer.  Plus, he's got a healthy dose of sarcasm and cynicism that are rarely found among Canadians.  Fortunately, his bark is worse that his bite.  I'm always excoricating him to start his own blog. Maybe you can too!

That's all folks!  Check out these relatively new daddy bloggers and enjoy.  And if there are any other new daddy bloggers out there that I missed, post a comment introducing yourself or shoot me an e-mail.

And always remember...men who change diapers change the world. 

To Dad, and Fathers Everywhere...

Those of you who follow sports may know that Tiger Woods' father passed away from cancer four weeks ago.  Anyone who ever saw Tiger with his father knows that Earl was not one of those parents who pushed his son to play golf in order to fulfill his own ambitions.  He was just, quite simply, Tiger's mentor, best friend, and #1 fan.  The two of them were often inseparable and, every time Tiger won a tournament, he always went straight to Earl and gave him a big hug.  Theirs was a truly special relationship. 

Sadly, this Nike commercial was compiled a few weeks before Earl Woods' death and was meant to be Tiger's Father's Day tribute to "make sure all dads everywhere are recognized and appreciated."  It's so sentimentally touching that every time I watch it, tears come to my eyes.   

I hope all of you watch it and remember what Father's Day is really about.

 

You can also see the video here. The song is The Zombies' "This Will Be Our Year."

From all of us to all of you...Happy Father's Day. 
 

I Want to Party Like It's 1999!

These days, most of you know me as a laid-back father who loves nothing more than patiently reading books to my daughter, mellowing out by watching my beloved NY Mets, or having long dinners at home with my lovely and beautiful wife. 

But, once upon a time, when I was a wee single laddie living it up in the bright lights of Manhattan, I used to run around this city like it was my own personal sandbox.  Being a young man in my 20's with an abundance of energy and absolutely nothing to worry about except paying the rent and making it to my desk in the morning, my social life made "Bright Lights, Big City" look like an afternoon TV special. 

I was a "work hard/play hard" kind of guy in the sense that it took a lot of work for me to play that hard. 

Recently, I was cleaning up my office when I came across my 1999 monthly planner.  Curious about taking a walk down memory lane, I flipped through my datebook to see what I had been up to exactly seven years ago.

Looking back, I hardly recognize myself or the things that I was doing at the time.  At the risk of sounding like a completely vapid asshole, here's what my planner says I was doing during June of 1999:

• Attended Vogue Magazine party for Anna Wintour at Mercer Hotel.

• Knicks vs. Pacers playoff games at Madison Square Garden.
  

• Volunteer work at adult illiteracy program.

• Dinner at Indochine with designer Michael Kors and friends.

• Anniversary party for a friend's nightclub.

• Opening party at art gallery for Peter Beard.

• Attended Yasmina Reza's off-Broadway play "Art." 

• Long weekend partying in Paris with friends from college.

• Private screening of "Fight Club" at HBO. 

• Canoe trip in the Delaware Water Gap.

• Garden party at MOMA, Hole concert at Roseland, Neil Young at the Garden. 

• Assorted dinners/dates at restaurants all over town.

Looking back, I don't have any regrets about this time of my life.  Despite the fact that my social calendar resembled a bad episode of "Sex in the City,"  from what I can remember, I had a pretty fun time back then.  In fact, I've always thought that EVERYONE should live in NYC when they're in their 20's.  It's a great place to be young and single. 

However, I'm also self-aware enough to realize that despite all the fun I was having, my life was emptier than Gary Busey's minibar at the Chateau Marmont. 

Back then, older friends of mine would always tell me about how much better life got for them when they reached their 30's and settled down.  Being a sarcastic wise-ass, I would always reply by saying, "I'm sorry.  Did you say something?  I couldn't hear you.  Claudia Schiffer is yelling in my ear about going to Bowery Bar and doing tequila shots off Kate Moss' neck.  Gotta go!"

But there comes a time in a man's life when it's natural to settle down and reevaluate one's priorities.  For me, that happened the very first day that I met the lovely BossLady.  Sure, it helped that I'd already completely mastered Tetris and that the Mets were 20 games behind Atlanta but I think those were more coincidences than causation.  Meeting the BossLady truly changed my definition of what "having fun" was really about.    

And as much as my life changed by marrying the BossLady, it changed even more with the birth of the Peanut.  Nothing quite turns an adult inside out like having children.  Without a doubt, parenting is the most important thing I have ever done or will do.  I've embraced this new stage of my life wholeheartedly and I've found that I'm having more fun than I've ever had in my entire life.  Living with the BossLady and the Peanut is a blast and I wouldn't trade this time for anything in the world.   

But you know when I really realized that my life had changed irrevocably? 

Last night, when I turned to the Peanut and said, "eat your vegetables or no dessert." 

Once you utter those words to your kid, there's no turning back.   

 

Phantom Dinner Guests

I fucking love guacamole. 

If I'm at a party and someone's got some good guacamole, I will just sit there by myself and dip chip after chip into the bowl.  If nobody's watching me, I'll scoop the guacamole onto a chip and just lick it off.  I won't even eat the chip.  I'll just keep dipping the same chip into the guacamole repeatedly.  (Totally gross, right?  I'm like a double dipper to the nth degree.) 

Because let's face it.  Chips are really just vehicles for your guacamole.  They're dry, salty and taste like crap on their own.  If guacamole didn't exist, I'd never eat another chip in my entire life.

Why am I talking about this?  Because in the familial relationship metaphor of inter-generational dynamics, BossLady and I are the chips and Peanut is the guacamole. 

Whenever we're around my parents, BossLady and I might as well not even exist.  The Peanut is my parent's first grandchild and to say that they are "fawning" is to insult fawns everywhere.  Peanut is their life.  Their weekly schedules, their vacations, their daily conversations...all of it is at the mercy of a little 20-month-old girl. 

Yesterday, we had a family dinner with my folks and MetroBro to celebrate BossLady's birthday.  Though my wife's birthday is always cause for celebration, I think we've officially reached the point where my parents would celebrate Idi Amin's birthday if it meant they got to spend time with their granddaughter. 

At one point, I looked up to see my father physically wrest Peanut away from the BossLady so he could carry her.  Didn't even say a word.  He just grabbed her out of BossLady's arms like the Lindbergh baby.  I know he didn't mean to be rude.  He just loves carrying the Peanut around. If it were up to him, the Peanut's feet would never touch the ground and the two of them would spend their days reenacting the marsupial relationship between Angelina Jolie and young Maddox. 

During dinner, as usual, all attention is focused on the Peanut.  Sometimes when I'm speaking, I can actually see my mother's mind working as she pretends to listen to what I'm saying.  Although she may be looking directly at me, I know that, in her head, she's thinking, "I love my granddaughter so much.  I wonder what she's doing this very nanosecond.  She's so cute!  Where is she?  What is my son saying?  When will he be done talking?  I just want to see my granddaughter.  I love her so much."

Like many people, I've found that my parents are far better grandparents than they were parents.  Particularly in the case of my father, he seems to be atoning for various past sins and transgressions.  He's already much more involved in the Peanut's life than he ever really was in my own.  It's almost as if he's getting a fresh start. 

Having been severely abused by his own parents, my father ran away from home at a very young age.  He never had parenting role models to admire or emulate.  Because he was abused by his family, he's always had problems dealing with emotional issues and has a very dysfunctional way of dealing with expressions of love and affection.  My relationship with him when I was younger was always tumultuous and conflicted.  Parenting was NOT a subject that I imagine he spent much time thinking about.

In several ways, having the Peanut has changed the dynamics of the relationship between me and my parents.  Like everything in my life now, my primary concern is my daughter's well-being.  And because I never had any grandparents of my own, I'm glad that the Peanut does.  I'm glad that she gets all this doting attention.  I love the fact that she has so many people who love her as much as I do. 

So if it means biting my tongue as my father grabs the Peanut from me?  Or sitting silently as my mother ignores me?  Or going to family reunions and feeling like the Invisible Man? 

Well, that's just fine for me.  I'll just be here in the corner eating some guacamole with my fingers.

 

Girl's Gone Wild: The Toddler Years

Tonight, the Peanut got pissed at me because I wouldn't give her a cookie.

Honestly?  I don't even know how she saw the fucking cookie.  It was perched on a countertop way beyond her line of vision and semi-hidden by a sippy cup. 

All I know is that, at one point, the two of us are hanging out and playing musical instruments together.  She's jamming out on the harmonica and I'm rocking some serious triangle action.  Next thing I know, she completely freezes up and I see her tiny eyes scanning the entire kitchen with the intensity of Jack Bauer looking for a terrorist in a crowded mall.  For a second there, I half-expected her to pick up an empty toilet paper roll and start using it as a telescope.  Instead, she made an immediate beeline for the cookie and tried to use her one inch vertical leap to grab it. 

Since it was close to dinner time (and because I'm the world's most sadistic father,) I refused to give her the cookie.  In my best approximation of an actual grown-up, I calmly told her that the cookie would spoil her appetite and that, if she waited a little while, we'd have dinner together. 

First, tiny tears start welling up in her eyes. Then, she begins whimpering softly.  Next thing I know, she's screaming so loudly that I'm convinced my neighbors will think I'm flushing a cat down the toilet.  I lean down to hug her but she kicks me in the nuts.  She then starts flailing around on the floor like an epileptic fish.  Her arms are going in one direction, her legs in another.  If the screams hadn't been so maddingly deafening, I think I would have sat back in a chair and laughed my ass off. 

Instead, I gave the Peanut a "time-out." 

This was actually her second time-out.  BossLady gave her one the other day because the Peanut thought it would be fun to overturn the laundry basket and start tossing Diet Coke cans out of the pantry.  While BossLady and I thought this was hilarious, we didn't want to set a bad precedent so we suppressed our smiles and scolded the Peanut.  Of course, our lovely daughter went absolutely bonkers, started screaming again, and commenced throwing soda cans like a young Satchel Paige.

So we stuck her in her crib until she cooled out (thank you, Supernanny!)

Clearly, we're at the beginning stages of the Terrible Twos.  I'm fully cognizant of the fact that the Peanut's behavior stems from an irresistible urge to make her own choices.   Recently, I've been reading a lot of parenting literature to help me prepare for this latest phase of the Peanut's development (and the ensuing onset of oppositional behavior, constant impatience and decision reversals.)

All the same, it's fascinating watching it up close and personal.   In one moment, the Peanut is cute, adorable, and charming.  Two seconds later, she's stubborn, demanding and impatient.  She's like a miniature Asian version of Sybil.

Wish us luck, my friends, and feel free to offer up any advice.  Because right now, BossLady and I are locked in a battle of the wits with a 20-month old girl who has suddenly come to realize that she knows exactly what she wants at any given time.  Nature and Nurture are colliding straight-on and the stakes are high. 

Winner gets a free cookie.

 

And now a word from our sponsors!

Recently, a corporate PR firm contacted a few of my all-time favorite female bloggers and sent them free samples of KY Sensual Mist Personal Lubricant.  In exchange, all the women were asked to write a brief review of the product and post it on their sites.  (Search their sites to find the reviews.  They'll have you laughing your collective asses off.  Plus, if you're not already reading these women, you really should be.)

Weirdly enough, I found myself a little envious that my female blogging compatriots were getting some free goodies and I wasn't.  Not that I wanted any KY Mist or anything.  BossLady and I prefer to use PAM Cooking Spray as a sexual lubricant.  It's much cheaper and the smell of artificial butter always gets us in the mood. 

Anyway, in a strange set of coincidences, I was approached a few weeks ago by several PR firms and asked to review various products that were being targeted specifically to men. 

My first reaction was "Awesome!  Free condoms for everyone!"

But surprisingly, these PR firms didn't want to send me condoms.  They wanted to send me camcorders, digital cameras, DVD players, and PDAs.  Holy freaking jackpot, Batman! This was a gadget geek's wet dream.  So,trying to keep my cool, I started conversing with a few of these PR guys.

"So, let me get this straight.  You're going to send me free shit and it's totally my decision whether I want to review it on my site?"

"That's pretty much it."

"You've read my site before, right?  It's not really a product review blog. I usually just tell funny stories about drinking my wife's breast milk, feeding dog food to the baby, and waiting until the 7th inning stretch to change her diaper."

"Yes, we know.  However, we think you have a great audience who would be interested in hearing your opinion about various products aimed at the parenting demographic."

"But what if I think the product sucks donkey ass?  Do I have to write about it?  Can I still keep the stuff?"

"Absolutely."

"Sign me up, sir. I'm in."

At first, I had some moral qualms about accepting free swag.  What would my readers think?  Was there a conflict of interest involved?  Would I be beholden to the swag? 

Then I realized I was being an idiot.  This was not a moral quagmire.  The war in Iraq, the right to abortion, gun control...THOSE are moral quagmires!  This?  This was just free stuff.  Why was I overthinking it? 

Anyway, the first product I received was a DVD camcorder.  It looked very cool and shiny.  However, the product manual was apparently written by the same people who work for Ikea.  In other words, I'm pretty sure that they were translated from Japanese to English by someone who only speaks Swedish.  When I figure out how to use it, I'll consider writing a review. 

However, the next product I received was an Insignia Portable DVD Player sent to me by my new best friend Charlie (Some of you may know Charlie because he's also sent these DVD players to my blogging friends Mir and Lucinda.  He's like the Patron Saint of bloggers.)

Anyway, I'd never heard of Insignia before.  For all I knew, they were the Sony of Eastern Lithuania.  Turns out they're a company based here in the U.S. of A...making their products in China.  So needless to say, I was a bit skeptical when I received the DVD player.  I had visions of the fake "Prata" bags sold down on Canal Street. 

But you know what?  This DVD player is actually pretty cool.  It's nice and slim and has a full swivel screen.  If you let your kids watch DVDs in the car, I'd imagine this one would work out just fine.  It's also light enough for you varsity travelers and corporate sales jockeys to take on long plane rides.  In fact, it even comes with a remote control (if you're too lazy to lift your arm 5" in any given direction.) 

Here's a photo:

I have no idea how this thing compares to any other DVD player on the market in terms of price, quality or reliability.  I'm having fun playing around with it and I haven't had any problems at all. 

And, in all honesty, the greatest thing I love about this DVD player is that it's free!

So...thanks, BestBuy!  Thanks, Insignia!  And most of all, thanks, Charlie!  If you happen to come across any sponsorships from Aston Martin, Johnnie Walker Scotch, or Phillip Morris?  Let me know.  I'm your man!

And readers...what do YOU think?  Have I whored myself out completely?  Will you still respect me in the morning?  What do you think about the fact that marketers are starting to recognize blogs as way to garner press?   Does it change your impression of this (or any other) site?  Should I give all of you Charlie's e-mail address so you can get some swag too? 

Because, now that he's been pimping, MetroDad feels like a Jigga-man, a Pimp-C and a B.U.N.B.