What Do You Call A Post Inspired by Aziz Ansari and The Polar Express?

by d. daly on December 14, 2013

Beats the hell outta this Dick, but I just watched “Aziz Ansari: Buried Alive” and “The Polar Express”, in that order, yesterday and today, respectively, alone and with my family, also respectively in that order. I know. That previous sentence could have been constructed with more care and craftsmanship, but I like it just the way it is and therefore it shall live on as such. But I digress.

Before I continue, I must preface this post with an important piece of information. In the not-too-distant future I’m going to be my imagined version of a father. Yes, you read that right; there is some poor girl out there that has trusted my sperm to fertilize her egg. WTF aren’t the right letters, but they are the first three letters that come to mind.

Back to the original intent of this correspondence. And, yes, it will be about kids and parenting and shit like that, so there. I don’t know if that’s all I’ll be able to think and write about now, but if it is, then so be it. So Aziz kicks off his routine with a bit about turning 30 and how all his friends his age are telling him that they either started a family or are planning on it. And he, of course, thinks that shit cray! And if you’re slow, I just said that he thinks that shit’s CRAZY!

He goes on to point out all the reasons not to do such a thing at such an age and rubs it in with such a sting and such a rage that you start to hurt just a little inside. He flaunts his freedom in everyone’s face and makes a complete mockery of the institution of marriage and the pyramid scheme called parenthood and he’s completely on point. I never knew me and that little twerp thought so much alike. And I don’t use the word “twerp” in its strictest form or function here; I’m actually employing it as a term of endearment. I like the guy. He’s smart and he dresses well and he has never sold himself out. I know that last part did not need to be mentioned, but I left it in anyway. He would do the same.

So there I was as as a soon-to-be parent listening to a childless millionaire talk about how much time and money is sunk into rearing a kid and how much of a rip-off that is on your personal life, goals, and dreams. Man, that shit hurts! But I still laughed and perhaps I cried a little, too. But I’m sure it was just from laughing too hard, and not from actually realizing that my life as I had known it had a nine month time bomb strapped on to it about 5 months ago. Yeah, that’s where I’m at at the moment of this writing. And as I am writing this, it is with the intent of putting it out in public, but also with the uncertainty that I will follow through once it’s all written and done. Because I am going to be brutally honest about my feelings which may, in turn, hurt others. I don’t want no baby mama drama, is all I’m sayin’.

Back to Aiz. So, I take it all in, boil it down overnight in my tears and wake up and go to work this morning. After work I come home and I decide that I’d like to watch a movie with my better half and her bundle of joy. I decide on “The Polar Express” because Netflix thinks I should do so. But I’ll tell you a secret, Netflix isn’t that smart because if it were, there would be more porn on the “Top Picks for DICK” section (Yes, you read that right; I said more porn). I know it’s not a new movie, but I have never had the urge to see it until Netflix decided that I should. Let’s hope Netflix never suggests that I watch a documentary on how to successfully leave your wife and unborn child for your mistress without a lawyer or a hitman. In all seriousness I would never do that, but I would definitely watch the documentary.

Off the bat this movie rubs me the wrong way. And I’m not being a Scrooge here, just being myself – a Dick. So, a train pulls up to a kid’s house and the guy that yells “all aboard!” asked the kid if he’s gonna get on the train. I never liked those kind of stories, even as a kid. They’re fucking creepy. Of course the kid gets on, or else we don’t have much of a story here, but the underlying message of showing kids it’s okay to hop on a train with a stranger is what gets me. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna harp on it and make a big deal out of it, but I do want to point out that those stories are likely created by pervs. I can just see those writers jizzing all over their laptops as they type out the vivid scenes of little kids far away from their parents being taken off to the “north pole.” More like the south pole in real life, if you know what I’m saying. If you’re a kid and you’re reading this, good on ya! Don’t hop on trains with strangers. They will butt-fuck you.

At any rate, as you may or may not know, it’s a Christmas movie ( in the Santa sense not the Jesus sense). So I ask the woman that is holding my baby hostage in her womb how long she believed in Santa as a child. Of course this was a set-up for the larger and more important question. But I’ll get to that later. So, she tells me that it was up until  middle school. Then she asks me the same question and I look at her as if she just insulted me. And that’s when I realized that I never bought it in the first place. And her follow-up question was whether I was going to ruin it for our son when his time came to wrestle with these imaginary weirdos that all parents seem to think their kids should go through. It’s like playing a real life video game with your kid as they defeat the bosses based on rank and importance. First, the Tooth Fairy is fake. Next is the Easter Bunny. And then we have Santa. Once they eliminate that fat bastard, then they can tango with the real boss…  No, not God. The honest politician. The sooner they realize that none of those exist the better off they will be.

But, in all seriousness. I’ll let the little squirt believe whatever he wants for as long as he wants. We’ll even watch “The Polar Express” and “Aziz Ansari: Buried Alive” as a cautionary tale and birth control in that order and very respectively. So the lesson to be learned is that you should put off having kids for as long as possible and when you finally give in, don’t let them watch kid’s movies without parental supervision and commentary. As for the fairy tales; I cannot be the only person that thinks that those games are unnecessary.  Must we put our children through that bullshit? Is there something to be gained? Someone please enlighten me before it’s too late for little Jax.

 

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