You know how, around the beginning of the year, Babble was launching at the same time Neal Pollack's book was released, and Babble's reviewer kind of threw a hissy fit, as if there was only one seat left in the hipster parent publicity game, and no one knew when the Arcade Fire chorus was going to end? And how you were kind of left going, gee, big diff?
Well, now the truth can be told there's at least one huge difference after all: Babble turn out to be total noobs when it comes to parenting while high.
Check this entry from pothead mom LJ's Bad Parenting column:
Desperate for a change of scenery, I shoved my son in his car seat and drove to the mall. But when we arrived, I realized that it was my internal scenery that really needed changing. I walked to the rear of my car and stuck my head in the trunk, pretending to fumble for my diaper bag while I took a quick and furtive toke off my one-hitter. As I unbuckled my son, I felt the furrows already vanishing from my brow.Sneaking a toke in the trunk at the mall? Now compare this to Pollack's Alternadad Chapter 17, "Fear and Loathing in the Harmon Triangle", which could win on length alone [13 pages vs 2]:
Rather than taking his hand and dragging him along behind me as I usually do on shopping trips, I let my son decide where we would go, what we would look at and how much time we would spend in each aisle. He delighted in calling my attention to each shiny object, and I delighted in listening to his descriptions. "Look, Mommy! This frog has spots!" "Mommy! Come here! It's a spinny top!" And when he said look, I really, really looked. Earlier, I'd wanted to kill this kid, and now I was hanging on his every word and absorbing his every observation. A few minutes earlier, I saw him as an irritant. Now he was an inspiration.
Once I'd squared away my new role as community leader, I decided it was time for me to reform my marijuana-smoking habits. One of my best friends from high school, who'd become a successful family-practice physician with a specialty in infectious disease, spurred the change. He had a son a few months younger than Elijah.With the help of The Silver Surfer, Pollack then goes on to solve a couple of murders, revitalize a struggling Austin inner city neighborhood, and give his kid a bath, stress-free.
"Dude. You're gonna be thirty-five soon. You can't be inhaling all that shit into your lungs."
"You're probably right," I said. He had a degree from Harvard. I sighed as I imagined what the next four and a half decades would be like without pot.
"You need to get a vaporizer. It doesn't combust the weed. It cooks. You're sucking down like one-hundred percent THC vapor."
"And it works?"
"It works so well that you barely have to use any weed at all. A quarter can last you for months It is awesome."
I was faced with a purchasing decision that could get me very high and save me money at the same time; I didn't need to think on this for long.
"Where can I get one?"
An hour later, I'd found my quarry on the internet. An hour and five minutes later, I'd placed my order.