A lot of adults look at my baby and say, “Man, to be that age again, to not have a worry in the world, I’d give anything.” To which I respond, “Oh really? You’d like to shit all over your dick twice a day and have to sit in it until someone figures out you need to be cleaned up?” After the flooding last week things have been a bit depressing around the house. We lost a lot of stuff that we can’t replace like the newspaper from the day of the flood that I never got to read and never will because it is soaked beyond all repair. Where am I going to find another one of those? EBay? Yeah, right. I doubt anyone is listing March 13th Home News Tribune. Now I’ll never know who won and lost in various sporting events or which lottery numbers I didn’t win with. NEVER. Aside from the newspaper our recycling bin flipped over and a lot of empty bottles of wine broke. I don’t really care as much about them as the newspaper. I’m just saying, so you understand the magnitude of our loss. Luckily we have a sympathetic baby. He saw we needed some joy to shake off the Catastrophe Blues and so he sat me and my wife down and said, “Mom. Dad. I was going to wait a while to show you this but I can see you’re in a bad way and it kills me to see yous guys like this and so…” With that he grabbed the Steinway Grand Piano we’d gotten him as a lark and started to belt out. And wouldn’t you know it, my son is a protégé. Not like those other loser kids whose parents claim they are protégés. My kid really is. Look at how he plays Sir Duke in this video. He's the White Stevie Wonder that can see. With that our hearts sang and my wife and I forgot all about Saturday's newspaper that God stole from us. (Forgot, not forgave.) “And dad,” the child said to me, “I wrote you a song about your favorite forgotten Russian comedian, Yakov Smirnoff.” And so I sang it. And it was awesome. And magically Tommy Mottola misdialed someone else’s number and called my house by accident and when I saw his name on the caller ID I didn’t bother to say "Hello." When I answered, I just started singing my Yakov Smirnoff song and now I have a record deal. So I might have to quit Vice because he wants me in the studio ASAP. I’m just hoping my son can whip up more radio gold like this gem. In skateboarding when you film your friends with a crappy camera it is referred to as "Bro Cam." Yesterday I went to interview my friend and Zoo York/Vans team rider, Ron Deily, about the heady topic of his hair. As if my son couldn’t get any more mind-blowing and divine, he goes and says, “Father?” And I say, “Yes, son?” And he says, “Can I go out and… KILL TONIGHT??” Then he starts laughing and says, “Just kidding. What I was going to say was if you film a trick of Ron’s with your crappy Vado HD camera you’ll have invented ‘Dad Cam.’ You’ll have made history in the great tradition of skate-filming pioneers Spike Jonze, Ty Evans, and that other guy.” And so that’s what I did. You can watch it here, with the baby stroller follow-cam footage. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before the Skateboarding Hall Of Fame inducts me into its ranks. CHRIS NIERATKO (For more stupid go to Chrisnieratko.com or NJSkateshop.com)
ORIGINAL REPORTING ON EVERYTHING THAT MATTERS IN YOUR INBOX.
By signing up, you agree to the Terms of Use and Privacy Policy & to receive electronic communications from Vice Media Group, which may include marketing promotions, advertisements and sponsored content.