Baby, No One Cares

This week’s comic was inspired by a recent night out with a friend of mine. We hadn’t hung out in a while, so we met, grabbed a beer, hit up a metal show (Kvelertak), then ate Philly cheesesteaks. At various moments throughout the evening, I mentioned brief details of my 14-month-old son. I found these little anecdotes and descriptions amusing. My friend… well it was like I was speaking to him in some strange foreign hypnotizing language… his eyes would glaze over, he would stare vaguely at some imaginary spot in front of him, and would mumble a few words of acknowledgement. When I would stop talking about babies, he would snap out of it and go back to normal.

The thing is, taking your kid on a wagon ride around the block can be truly amazing. But when you tell other people about it, it sounds pretty dull. Especially if they don’t have their own kids. There’s really no way around it. So then you’re faced with the question, do I bore my friends or do I just not ever talk about my kid? I think this is why a lot of dads seem like they don’t care or aren’t involved. They quickly learn no one cares, so they stop talking about it. Maybe I’ll go that way one day. Who knows.

Like This Comic

Like I said in this week’s comic, of course the Internet is a great thing—really one of the best things ever, an I mean that quite literally. But still, there is a sort of anxiety it has unleashed upon us. The more we share, the more we are constantly checking back to see if people agree or respond. And when they don’t we wonder why. Then we try harder.

A lot of people might not agree with this. They might say, “Hey, I share online with my friends because it’s fun. I don’t sit there worrying who will retweet me.” And they might actually believe that. But deep inside, they do care. Otherwise they wouldn’t post. That’s the thing—why share something if you aren’t concerned with the opinion of others? And caring requires effort. Sharing requires putting yourself out there to be judged. This is all stressful. Little tiny moments of stress throughout the day. That’s what many of us are doing to ourselves with all this sharing.

Just think about show and tell. What if you came to school, brought your favorite toy, stood in front of the class, showed and telled, and then no one cared. No one paid attention, no one asked a question, no one talked about it after. You’d be one sad kid. That’s what I’m talking about here.

One Stupid Mother

This week’s comic is based on a real incident that happened to me this Saturday. There is no embellishing. That was exactly what happened. Now yes, it’s not a big deal, but it was a first for me. I’m the father of a one-year-old, so I’m new to the world of snotty parents being dicks to each other.

I was just standing there, watching my son—who is one of if not the youngest kid in the entire playground—stare at a nail or a piece of dirt or whatever had captivated his attention. I was making sure he didn’t fall through a gap or that some wild 6-year-old didn’t run by and knock him over, or that he didn’t eat a a used lollipop off the floor—and that takes a lot of concentration. So I was not at all prepared for some stupid bitch mom to get all passive aggressive with me. I was speechless, which is probably better off, because I walked away without stooping to her level, and she wound up feeling stupid. But really, there’s a huge playground. The bridge was one thing out of at least 50 her kid could have played on. Did she have to go pick on the tiniest baby in the entire park when her daughter didn’t even give a shit about the bridge in the first place?

So I’m glad she was wrong and felt stupid, even if only for a few short moments, and in my head I went all CSI on her. Well, looks like I’ll be dealing with a lot more asshole parents in the future, so that should be more comic fodder. Only next time, it won’t be as nice. In the comic that is. In real life I try to keep it civil.

Why I Don’t Like The Freedom Tower

I was originally going to title this comic “Why I Hate The Freedom Tower,” but then I realized I don’t hate it. I just don’t like it. I know, it’s easy to look at it and think, “Hey, wow, a super tall shiny modern building that’s supposed to represent all the good things about our country, sweet.” But it’s that second part that ruins it for me.

If this building had nothing to do with 9/11, I’d be cool with it. It is most likely going to be the largest LEED certified building in the world, and that’s something I support. But this thing is supposed to be a statement to the world. And that’s where it goes wrong—mostly because it has taken an embarrassing amount of time to get this thing done. And that’s because of the endless politically wrangling that goes on in this country for just about everything. After such an epic tragedy, you’d think we’d be able to get together, agree on something, then do whatever it takes to rebuild as soon as possible to show the world what we’re made of. Nope. As I said in the comic, plenty of enormous constructions have been built since 2001, and it didn’t take over a decade to complete any of them. Yes, of course you can’t compare this with your average building site, but still, even considering the circumstances, if the goal of this building was to send a message, we dropped the ball.

Frankly, I would have far preferred no building, just the wonderful memorials that stood exactly where the original towers were. Was there even a need for this much office space? I remember reading that they were having a hard time keeping the original towers fully occupied. But no, this is America, and we all knew from the very start, they were going to build something enormous. No other option would ever be seriously considered.

So now we have our new giant corporate office. It looms over the skyline—you can see it from pretty much anywhere it seems. And soon I’m sure we’ll all be seeing tourist photos with the tower in the background, or from the observation deck. And that’s always something a bit ghoulish to me. There was a site called something like Hot Girls Smiling At Ground Zero that makes the point I’m getting at better than anything I ever could write. It’s just weird to see people smiling and waving at the camera in front of a disaster site, yet that is what you see.

I don’t know, maybe I’m just tired of the whole thing. This moment in time that changed the world for the worse, that struck when I was just out of college, that marked the point when my naive trivial youth ended and my serious pessimistic adulthood started. And every time I see that building, that’s what I’m reminded of.

Oh well, at least it’s going to be officially called One World Trade Center and not the Freedom Tower.

Coffee Snobbery 101

This week’s comic is about coffee and how I love it. I still don’t drink it every day, and here’s why: It still amps me up like a kilo of coke. And I love that. I use it as a tool. When I need it, it’s there, and it works. See, if I drink it all the time, I’ll get used to it, and then not only won’t it give me a boost when I need one, I’ll become dependent on it, and it will actually start to act as a negative.

But onto enjoyability. Man, good coffee, it’s the best. And there really is such a difference. It’s like beer or spirits. A quality microbrew is better than Coors Light, and a nice single malt will beat something that comes out of a plastic jug—and fresh brewed coffee from an amazing roaster will be tastier than something from a mega chain like Starbucks. This shouldn’t even be an argument. It’s just stating fact. And yes, you can have your opinions in terms of what you enjoy, but you can also enjoy something that is “worse,” especially if you grow accustomed to it or haven’t experienced something “better.”

At home, I use a french press even though I know the slow drip Chemex thing is the hot brew method now. It just takes too much effort. I’d rather set it and forget it. On the road, I’ll go drip or cappuccino. I tried the espresso thing since I know that’s supposed to be the ultimate way to taste good coffee but I just don’t enjoy it. Really, I’ve tried. Just too bitter for me. And I like to have something to drink, not just a teeny tiny cup.

So yeah, call me a snob. A snoot. Whatever. I likes me some fancy pants expensive coffee. So sue me.

It’s Your Thingy

This week’s Dustinland is about this. But not really, since my kid is too young for that just yet. But I have to plan ahead. That article I just linked to says to use anatomical words like “penis” when talking to kids, but that’s just weird. I don’t use that word often as an adult even. It’s just a weird word. Some words are. Think about it, no other words even sound like penis, except peanut, and even that is kind of a silly word if you think about it, possibly due to guilt by association. There’s venus. That’s not really a word though, but a name.

Then again, all the kiddie words are weird too. Pee pee, wee wee, dinky, ding dong—soon it starts to feel like you’re reading the list of Hostess products. Man, I don’t know what I’m going to do about this. Maybe I’ll just wait until he can read my comics and then I won’t have to explain anything.

C is for Cookies

Yup. I like to eat cookies (as I say in this comic). Shocking revelation, I know. Actually, from the sight of my skinny ass, you really might be shocked to know that I enjoy eating naughty snacks. I’m just one of those dudes with a crazy metabolism. I figure it will catch up to me eventually, so might as well kinda, sorta enjoy it now.

Really though, I actually eat pretty healthy. Salads, organic meats, nothing processed, not a ton of sweets or candies. Once you start reading Michael Pollan and watching Food Inc., it’s hard to go back to the days of Double Whoppers. And trust me, I used to be all about dollar menus. It’s just… once you realize what you’re putting inside you when you eat that stuff… you have to be in denial or have a death wish to keep eating that way.

But yeah, give me your cookies and I will slowly eat them over the next few weeks, probably five or so at a time, around 3:00 each day. Thanks.