Once I found myself discussing the band Wilco with the father of one of my daughter's friends.
A couple of guys in their mid-30s, agreeing enthusiastically that "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" is indeed an amazing album. The scene was a camping trip for "dads and daughters" in rural Tennessee - three days of setting up tents, jumping off boats, and cooking meals that had been meticulously pre-arranged and packed into coolers by sensible spouses. The fathers, otherwise, might have been happy enough to enjoy meals that consisted entirely of Frito-Lay products - and prodigious amounts of beer, naturally.
And then the question: What other bands are you into? Nearby a clump of eleven year old girls built a house for a frog that had been caught. Others were attempting to help light the barbecue. Still others were trying to coax a girl away from a tent in which she had been hiding as a result of bruised feelings.
Broken Social Scene? Franz Ferdinand?
I think your daughter might be on fire.
I'm well-equipped to identify absurdity, and the ludicrousness of certain situations. What other band would we be discussing given our demographic - a couple of aging quasi-hipsters with a jones for alt-culture? Are those pretensions simply sad at a certain point, a clinging to shreds? Witness the old man moshing away in front of the stage, while the kids nearby recoil in laughter.
But I finally don't think so. I think the baby boomers dragged their counter-cultural pretensions so far into old age - they haven't stopped yet, really - they have so prepared the ground, that it's hardly that absurd to imagine Gen-X growing older, still opinionated (in some corners) about good music, non-mainstream movies, and culture that isn't entirely mass-marketed. And that's the crux of it - It becomes less a matter of "youth" culture than simply some choices that are beyond the event horizon of the expected cultural firmament. This can extend to many areas - where and how you choose to live, food (organic, local, international) - and the products with which we choose to populate our consumer lives.
So I can accept the basic premise of a dad who wants, for lack of a better word, to be cool. Neal Pollack expresses this repeatedly in
Alternadad, to the point where he protests too much. Specifically, he wants his son to think of him (and all of the things he enjoys) as "cool" - and this is the part that starts to seem a little regressive and strange.
His book chronicles the journey he began to take with his wife when, instead of caring for pets, they indulged the need to procreate. Then they need to choose a place to live - ultimately selecting a tough neighborhood in the progressive city of Austin. Their son sounds like a sweet child, but one with some minor behavioral challenges - notably a problem biting other kids at daycare. Mom is a painter with an obsession with organic food, and the author is self-employed selling his writing. His hobbies include listening to music, playing music, dabbling in local politics (there is much to be done in his neighborhood) and smoking a great deal of marijuana.
The problem with Neal Pollack, I think, is that one's interests as an individual and one's responsibilities as a parent are usually apples and oranges - they infrequently coincide. Some people have children to create new and better versions of themselves, boys and girls that they can then become "friends" with along life's crazy journey. While this is not a philosophy that I would categorically dismiss as "wrong" - I do fall into the structure, guidance and love first school of thought - which means that if they like you, great. Bonus. But if you're doing your job correctly there will be plenty of times when they don't like you whatsoever.
This may be the "father" dynamic too. (And, caveat emptor, with all gender observations it only goes so far - it's generally true, but variations and exceptions abound.) Mom can offer more emotional "give" - rising and falling with the sympathies of the child, playing a more reactive role. Dads work best when they are a dependable piece of furniture, constantly supportive, with some rules that simply do not break. But when problems arise, anger isn't helpful either. The ultimate goal is to approach unwanted behavior (in school or the home) with the same Zen peace of mind as the best behavior, the soccer goals, the well-done recitals, and the A+ grades.
All of that matters more than cultural pretensions. I would have preferred to have heard Neal discuss more about his values (be they religious or secular). You see suggestions of this in his handling of certain topics - circumcision, his Jewish heritage, and curiously, but perhaps not surprisingly, the notion of "whether or not he will smoke pot with his son". (He concludes it's none of the reader's business.) And it's easy enough to conclude that he's in the land of loosey-goosey moral relativism - blunder forward, hurt others or yourself, then decide in retrospect what you believe. But I would like to have heard his thoughts anyway, and I would have given him the benefit of the doubt.
The common ground among all fathers, alterna- or generic, is the desire to be there and play some role in the moment of a child's growth. Whether it's Joe Midwest teaching his son to swing a golf club, or Neal Pollack enjoying rock music with Elijah, it's an incredible (albeit natural) high when it happens, when they make the connection.
And I do love those occasions myself. When Miyazaki's "Spirited Away" opened in Cincinnati I brought my daughter the opening week. She was about six. We had dinner at an Indian restaurant and saw the movie. The only other child was in her early teens, and there was whispering about that guy "who brought his kid" - from folks who apparently had know idea that Miyazaki is widely regarded as the Walt Disney of Japan. And my daughter was already, at that point, familiar with his work - our movie collection included Totoro and Kiki's Delivery Service.
All of her friends thought it was "weird". They later said the same thing when they spotted manga comics in her book bag - before later starting to borrow them. And I don't want my girls to be snotty about discovering something in advance of the masses. That would defeat the purpose. But I want them to be comfortable going outside of the range of normal, generic culture, to disregard what uninformed people say, and to seek her own unique experiences. (You need to work a little harder at this, living in Ohio.)
And it's nice to think a father can always be a guide along the way.