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Dumb dad

Posted By Scott Warnock On In virtual children by Scott Warnock | 10 Comments

Dads are dumb. I’m a dad, so therefore I’m dumb. If you’re a dad, logic dictates that you too are dumb. Dads are blithering, detached, bumblers. They’re oblivious. Easy to fool. That’s what the world is telling our kids.

Here’s a commercial you’ve seen recently (or something quite close to it [1]): The kids are in the treehouse rocking it out after drinking lots of sugar-filled beverages. They’re dancing. Playing video games. The editing is quick; the camera lingers nowhere more than a second. In comes dumb dad. He makes a lot of noise. If he has to climb a ladder he falls once or twice. By time he arrives, the kids now are all reading books or playing violins or building supercomputers. Dumb dad puts on that stupid grin of his, the kids wink at each other over their books and Strads. Dumb dad ambles out.

The party begins again.

Dumb dad is everywhere in our culture. He is never on the ball. He’s never up to speed. He’s never with it. He sits in front of a plate, in a stupor, wondering wide-eyed what the food could be.

Then he eats it anyway.

He “babysits” his own children. He doesn’t know what they are up to anyway. He may be curious for a moment, but, hey, sports are on TV! And is that a beer ad?! He goes back to that.

Ah, beer. Dumb dad loves his beer. He’ll do anything for beer. Even though there are a googolplex of beer options in the local bar alone, he will do anything for the one particular can of beer in front of him. He will stare at it, even if something awful is about to happen, like he will be hit by a (non-beer-toting) truck. If there’s a fire in the house, he’ll rush in to save that beer.

Then he’ll return to get his children.

He can’t talk about anything important with the kids. He says, “Go see your mother.” If it’s something about a daughter, like about a boyfriend or, good forbid, something about her growth into a woman, he plugs his ears and yells “Gahhh!’

He can’t deal with it.

The kids have it all over him, because they know all this stuff about dumb dad. The wool can be pulled over his eyes. The seemingly obvious can be made impenetrable to dumb dad.

Maybe, dumb dads, our time will come. Maybe we’re already making headway [2], as CNN points out. But I’m doubtful. Sure, we’ll evolve. We’ll grow. Some day we’ll be slobbering over a cake, pants on backward, trying to read the words in icing script: Happy birthday, Dumb Grandpop.

Will our life flash before our eyes? Will we suffer ego despair? No, it’ll be okay. The kids will tell us it’s yummy beercake. We’ll happily chomp away, noticing not the vanilla flavor — or their knowing winks to one another.

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Scott Warnock [6]

Scott Warnock is a writer and teacher who lives in South Jersey. He is a professor of English at Drexel University, where he is also the Associate Dean of Undergraduate Education in the College of Arts and Sciences. Father of three and husband of one, Scott is president of a local high school education foundation and spent many years coaching youth sports.
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