This just in: Dads aren’t dimwits.

I have noticed recently that Dads in the media are portrayed increasingly as dolts, dummies and dimwits. This post is going to attempt to alter the course of that nonsense.

How dare you!

As a single Dad to four teens, I have been the grounding voice of discipline, authority, wisdom and common sense in lives of my kids. I'm their Rock of Gibraltar. Now, I'm pretty damn far from perfect. But I can cook, I can clean, I am college educated and I'm the holder of all the highest high-scores in the family. I have the best jump shot and make the best omelet in the house. (butter, not oil).

Sit down, dummy. According to TV, women get the job done better.

So why does Hollywood, TV and advertising portray Dads as clueless dolts and dopey dudes who can barely tie their own shoes, know nothing about fashion and can’t boil a pot of water without their wife or girlfriend? Give me a brake! I'm the first to admit, women offer an amazingly diverse perspective on everything from raising kids to shopping to running a household. I cherish every suggestion my girlfriend has offered over the years. But that's not because I'm some doofus who wouldn’t be able to function without some woman telling him what to do. 

I know how to iron, I know how to tie a half-windsor, I know how to bake bread, I’ve made lobster croquettes and bake a mean lemon cake (yes with lemon-shards and ground vanilla). As a classically trained artist, I can paint, build furniture, organize color schemes and cook better than most women I know. So sorry Hollywood, I’m pounding an angry fist on the BS button on your views of men!

Double tuning the carbondifibulometer with a 3” torque ratchet… thingie. 

I played organized softball, volleyball, football and basketball. I bench-press a considerable portion of my 270+ pounds. I do indeed, enjoy watching sports. Pretty manly stuff, right? But lift the hood of an automobile engine, and you might as well be showing me the operating schematics to a rocket propulsion system. In arabic. Backwards. Upside down. In short, I'm lost. 

I understand (fundamentally) how internal combustion works. But that's as far as it goes. I know nothing, repeat, noting about cars. I did not spend time as a grease monkey, huddled under a hood or a cranked ’72 Chevy Bartooga (or whatever) learning why the chronic flan-ger-ator doesn’t syphon off properly. With today’s computer-driven cars and repair systems, this seems completely unnecessary to me. 

Dad or bust.

Given the mixed messaging from society and the media, men have an increasingly convoluted picture about what it means to be a man. Or a father. Actually its really quite simple. Mothers give a caring, nurturing and loving perspective to life. And so does a man. A woman can have patience, compassion and emotionally ground. And so does a man. What women CANNOT show a child, is what it means to be man. To be there, to be engaged, to be a stern voice of authority when necessary, to show both daughters and sons what manhood really means. To take care of business, problems and your family. 

So, Hollywood, take out your notepads. Anyone can lay down and make babies. The real test of manhood is to stand up and take care of them. Everything else is a careful mix of common sense, fear, intelligence, lede expereince and blind guesswork. We all trip, stumble and make mistakes. Just admit when you’re wrong, apologize for any mistakes and pain you have caused, hold your head up and persevere when you would rather quit. I don't need a woman to help me with any of that. 

So that’s what it means to be a father and to be a man, according to me. Its not easy but its pretty simple, right? That's because it.

P.S., For the record, my Dad was never around. Which taught me the #1 most important part of being a Dad. Being there. 

I figured it out!

To anyone who knows me, you know I am a huge movie buff. Yes I do co-write an amateur (but fast gaining readership) sci-fi review blog called the Boxed Office. While I'm usually a general lover of cinema; from foreign films to the occasional Rom Com (Romantic Comedies) to documentaries, I enjoy my projected-light story time. And if you know that you also know that I have had it up to here with the movie-going scene. While I absolutely LIVE for the big screen experience, I absolutely LOATHE being in theaters with people who talk, text and generally act like inconsiderate butt-heads once the lights go out. 

Gone are the days when moviegoers were courteous to others and would just STFU when the movie (or trailers) began. Ushers even used to walk the isles to remind all the disorderly dimwits the show is about to begin and it's time to shut your pie-hole. What’s worse, is the reality of pulling out phones and texting, talking or (gulp!) even gaming during the film. Who the hell ARE you people?

It was about a week ago when the answer to this quandary suddenly occurred to me. 

Generally, I am NOT a violent guy. Few things are worth getting in someone’s face over but really, I paid my admission fee, so I’m entitled to enjoy the movie–preferably without having to hear the BS details of of the so-called lives of inconsiderate rubes. Yeah that’s right I said it. I’ll say it again. Rubes.

Four easy words are the solution to decades of frustration for millions of people who only want to go and watch a movie in peace—and it makes the movie-watching experience that much better to boot. Are you ready? 

Pump up the volume. 

I’ve witnessed it firsthand. When the volume goes up, the shenanigans get drowned out. When the volume is high, the ding-dongs can’t think. They don’t pull out their phones, they don’t comment or talk and I don’t have to hear them hork-down their crunchy salty over-priced buttery snacks. It’s downright magical. So, Hollywood, here’s my proposal: 

Don’t fight these fools. They have no manners and no common sense. Just drown them out. No one will complain that the volume is too loud. No one. If a few little old ladies in Tulucca Lake bitch to the manager, you can tell them about the master plan and give them a free extra-small popcorn (a $13 value!). Everyone wins. No one will get into fights, get shot or beaten up over rude behavior or have to suffer through some idiot’s critique of every trailer and major plot development. Since you won’t ask your ushers and staff to tell the troglodytes to knock it off, the least you can do is to do me the common courtesy of helping me to enjoy the film. After all, its at least the pretense to why I'm there in the first place. Better yet, it won't cost you a dime.

Make it so.