Adventures In Questionable Parenting

     As a person that does not fit into the standard definition of a “grown up,” I have started to find some of my parenting choices to be rather comical while raising a fourteen year old girl.

     I am certainly not the khakis and golf shirt wearing type of father that aspires to be the CEO of whatever soulless corporation that I ended up working for.  I could give a shit about sports and put as much focus into rare punk rock singles and Batman as the average father puts into their fantasy league.

     A few Saturdays ago, out of the blue, the kid asked if we could watch Kill Bill.  It had been a while since I had seen it so I figured “Hey, why not.”  She has always had a curiosity about the movie since there has been a framed movie poster hanging on the wall in our house since she was born.  When I asked her if she wanted to watch the standard US release or my bootleg copy of the bloodier Japanese release, her eyes lit up.  It was as if I asked her if she wanted ice cream or ice cream with more ice cream on top.  The story of a strong female hero is something that I will always put in front of her.  And hearing her laugh her ass off at the over the top arterial spray is something I will never forget.

     The only thing she didn't get was why I was laughing every time the water feature went “Donk-Donk” before the final fight scene with O-Ren Ishii.  I explained that it was a device used to break the tension of the moment and that it added levity to the scene because it's something that wouldn't be there in your average action movie.

     After breakfast the next morning, the question of watching Kill Bill, Vol. 2 was raised.  Well, if we watched one then we would have to watch the other.  Otherwise we'd be uneven.  That's sound logic in my book.

     Then last weekend, we were stuck in traffic when we ventured out to a major shopping hub out in the suburbs.  The iPod landed on the Laura Jane Grace cover of the Mountain Goats song “Best Ever Death Metal Band In Denton.”  Towards the end of the song the phrase “Hail, Satan” is repeated quite a few times.  With the windows down and the volume up, a fourteen year old girl could be heard belting out “Hail, Satan” repeatedly.  The looks we got from these All-American, white, suburbanite consumers were priceless.  And we did this several times.

     After we had finished hailing Satan, who never showed up, I was asked who sang the song.  I was then asked why someone named Laura had a voice that sounded like someone that shouldn't be named Laura.  Here's where being a parent that doesn't much care what other people do becomes troublesome.

     I never put much thought into the subject of people being transgender because I don't really care.  Whatever makes people less miserable is fine by me.  All of the arguments over bathrooms and whatever else people come up with because of their fear of the “other” are tiresome and I have other things to get done.  So my usual attitude toward “normals” makes it difficult to explain things in a way that my kid would understand.  After a brief explanation without me saying, “Stupid, fucking bigots,” she responded with “Oh, that's why there's that third bathroom at school.”  Exactly.

     After we got home, we ended up watching an episode of Comic Book Men.  A large chunk of the episode was about the movie Shooting Clerks which was a reenactment of Kevin Smith's making of Clerks.  During the episode I had the thought “I really want to watch Clerks now.”  No sooner than I had finished the thought, the kid's head popped up and said “Can we watch Clerks?”  As you wish.

     I did warn her that it was much different than Yoga Hosers and that there was a bit of language which still bothers her for some reason even though she grew up riding in cars while I was driving. She said she was ready for it so we let it rip.

     When she saw the Death Star construction worker discussion, I had to pause the movie because she was laughing so hard.   She said that's the kind of things she talks to her friends at school about. She thoroughly enjoyed the movie.  Even the parts I'm sure she didn't understand.

     Every time she asks to watch a movie that might be questionable for someone her age, I have to remind myself that I took her to see Logan when that was in the theaters.  If you ever want to have a gut laugh over mundane statistics, read the IMDB parents guide for Logan.  On top of the sex and violence breakdown of the movie, someone went through the trouble of counting how many times each swear word was used and provided the count for each.  If that's an actual job that someone gets paid for, sign me up.  I'll be your “fuck” counter any day.

     That's why when Deadpool started airing on FX, I thought it would be a good time for the kid to watch it since it would be scrubbed of naughty words and deeds for basic cable.  Boy, was I wrong. Apparently, there were budget cuts at FX and the only people that were laid off worked in the Standards and Practices department.  The naughty words and deeds were intact.  At the first commercial break I thought, “Well, fuck it.  We may as well just watch the Blu-ray.”  At least there wouldn't be any commercials and I find those more offensive than anything.  At least she didn't ask what the deal was with the International Women's Day scene.  Having to explain pegging to my daughter is not really high up on my list of things to do.

     Ever since she was little, I had always exposed her to stand up comedy.  George Carlin and Patton Oswalt were always in rotation.  This was followed with Lewis Black and certain bits from Bill Hicks.

     We huddle around the laptop on a regular basis to watch Lewis' The Rant Is Due segments on his website.  She giggles her head off at his creative use of profanity and how “fuck” is used as a place holder between syllables.

     Following the events at Parkland, FL and the subsequent protests, she was giving a speech in her English class about gun control.   I handed her an essay that Bill Hicks had written on the subject. She asked if she could cite it in her speech.  I said sure but with one condition.  She had to refer to him as “The Great American, Bill Hicks” in her speech.  She gave a puzzled look and asked why.  My simple reply was “Because he was.”  She rolled her eyes at me, shrugged her shoulders and made it work.  To witness one of the darkest/greatest pieces of comedy, jam “Bill Hicks Rush Limbaugh” into your browser and be prepared to be horrified and delighted at the same time.

     I'm not sure what affect loading a kid up with (un)healthy doses of the Misfits and Kurt Vonnegut might have on her but it has to be a better diet than reality TV, hyper competitive sports culture and Sunday school can give her.

Laura Jane Grace~The Best Ever Death Metal Band In Denton