Of McDonald's and diapers

A baby seemed like the perfect excuse to begin my freelance career. My wife, Kate, would go back to work, and I would stay home with our new baby boy, Liam, while writing.

All in all, the plan has worked out fairly well--he’s a pretty easy baby, I enjoy having more time to write and I’ve only been referred to as Mr. Mom a few times. The new situation also gives us more flexibility to travel, so when Kate’s boss, who’s out of town often, was nearby in Cincinnati for a day, we packed up the family and headed down I-71. Kate and her boss would be able to get some work done face to face, and Liam and I would bide our time at an undetermined location.

I dropped Kate off around noon and decided to grab some food with the little guy. We had passed a McDonald’s after exiting the highway, and since I have a self-imposed rule that I’m allowed to eat Mcfood only when traveling, it seemed like a good place to go. The place was large enough to have a booth for Liam and me to camp out, and hopefully it would have a newspaper I could read while Liam slept soundly. But mostly I wanted some French fries.

So I detached Liam’s ponderous baby carrier from his car seat and slung the green bag filled with baby necessities over my shoulder--yes, it holds diapers, but it is not a diaper bag. I ordered my No. 1 with no sauce on the Big Mac and spotted a somewhat secluded booth toward the back of the restaurant, then headed over, balancing the tray, carrier and baby gear.

There are lots of freedoms I took for granted before the baby came along. For instance, previously, I could set my tray down in a restaurant and then return to the counter to fill a cup with my carbonated beverage of choice. Post-baby, this is not so easy. I was far away from the soda dispenser, and I couldn’t very well leave Liam in his carrier on the table, which was right next to an exit. Well, I guess I could, but I have become a paranoid new father, and I imagined all sorts of scenarios in which a baby snatcher could come in and whisk Liam away as I filled my drink. So I lugged Liam and the carrier across the restaurant and back again. As I sat down, I realized I forgot to buy a newspaper. So I repeated the process again and purchased the Cincinnati Enquirer.

After finally sitting down to eat my meal and read, I heard a few grunts coming from the carrier. I assumed Liam was either getting hungry or working on a little project underneath his onesie. After finishing my deliciously salty fries, I decided to give him his bottle, which was chilling next to a frozen pack in the bag. I got some funny looks as I fed him, but I’m getting used to that, since it’s still fairly rare to see a father feeding a newborn in public, and also since I still look about 17. As I glanced down at Liam’s pudgy little thighs, I saw a sight that strikes fear in the heart of any parent: leakage. Somehow I hadn’t noticed that green stuff was escaping from underneath his diaper, onto his leg and all over his onesie. I looked at the carrier, and sure enough, it was all over the seat belts, even working its way down into the inner workings of the contraption. And my black T-shirt? It now had a decidedly greenish hue.

I contemplated how to fix this situation, and decided I had to leave. The McDonald’s bathroom was dirty and not lockable, and this was a private matter (literally). So I covered Liam’s bottom half with a burp rag, put him back in the tainted carrier and headed for the backseat of our Toyota Corolla, which by this point on an August afternoon was approximately 107 degrees. It’s normally a comfortable size back there, but with a car seat, bags, me and Liam, it’s utterly cramped. I contorted my body and laid a blanket down to clean and change him--none of this made Liam too happy since he never got to finish that bottle. Dripping sweat, I then used half a box of baby wipes to clean the carrier and my T-shirt. I looked at Liam, who had cheered up and was grinning from ear to ear, seemingly amused at my misfortune. Eventually, I was able to give him the remaining contents of the bottle. All said, this backseat process took more than an hour.

The situation was trying my patience to say the least, but to top it off, I had my own bathroom needs to attend to. After drinking a large Coke, it was Daddy’s turn. I just couldn’t bring myself to pack everything up and go back in the same McDonald’s, so we hit the road looking for a place that would have the largest, tidiest bathroom. After a couple of miles, I spotted a Kroger, which seemed like a good option.

Lugging the carrier across the grocery store with giant wet spots on my shirt, I headed to a door with a blue restroom sign and entered. There on the wall was a public convenience I wish I had thought about hours earlier: “Baby Changing Station.”

In motion

This week's Other Paper

No album or live reviews by yours truly in The Other Paper this week, but I wrote a profile of Scott Stienecker, president of PromoWest Productions here in Columbus. PromoWest controls most of the major live music venues in town, so he's in a unique position. You can read the full story here.

In the print issue, you'll also find show previews for Rufus Wainwright (playing tonight), WCBE's benefit concerts (The Strip III & Beyond) and Sleepytime Gorilla Museum--a band that scares me as much as it intrigues me. Here's a collage of performances from the group:

Ben Lee is Against Me!

Ben Lee, who's probably best known in Columbus as the guy who sings "Catch My Disease" and listens to Beyonce on the radio, decided he liked Against Me!'s new album so much that he covered the entire thing on acoustic. Lucky for us, he also has every track available to download on his blog. Here's part of his explanation:

A couple of weeks ago I downloaded the new "Against Me!" album "New Wave". I didnt really know too much about this band but had been reading lots of good things about it, and my friend Tegan sings on it. I like to keep myself up to date with whats going on musically in the world, so I checked it out. I fell in love with the album. Really. Like, couldn't stop listening to it. As heavy and gnarly as it sounds at times, it is unmistakably a pop masterpiece. Listening to it on the way to Australia, I wondered to myself how these songs would sound acoustically. A couple of days later I was on a flight from Sydney to Melbourne and had the thought "I'd love to cover this album." The whole thing. Beginning to end. So I did.

Smiley

Sea Wolf

The more I listen to this band (which is really the work of one guy, Alex Church), the more I like their stuff. And you probably will too, so here are links below to two mp3s from the Sea Wolf site. Right now there's only an EP available, but the full-length, Leaves in the River, will be out Sept. 25.

mp3: You're a Wolf
mp3: The Garden That You Planted

And a couple more good-quality live tracks, courtesy of My Old Kentucky Blog/Sirius Radio:
mp3: Middle Distance Runner
mp3: Winter Windows

Silversun Pickups

Silversun Pickups rocked the LC Pavilion last night at CD101 Summerfest. I could go on and on about the show (and I will in The Other Paper this Thursday), but quite simply, the band was amazing.

In the meantime, here's a shot of the band from the show (above), along with the other acts: Sea Wolf (also superb), VHS or Beta, The Cliks and Miranda Sound. More photos here.

Sea Wolf













VHS or Beta













The Cliks












Miranda Sound

Smile, you're (probably) on camera

The fact that a Minnesota bridge collapsed is shocking. What isn't surprising to me is that there is video documenting the tragedy. It seems that whenever a national tragedy occurs, whether it be school shootings, terrorism, natural disasters, etc., there's always a video, sometimes several. Often it's from security cameras, traffic cameras or from random people who just happened to have immediate access to a camera.

I don't have a grand point to make about this, or really a judgment one way or the other. In general, I can't say it's so bad that all these cameras exist. They don't seem to actively intrude on everyone's day-to-day life, and usually when the videos do surface, they can help investigators figure out what went wrong in certain situations, such as the Minnesota bridge. But it does make me a bit uneasy. If cameras are always around when disasters occur, then they're around for the everyday, mundane moments as well, and that just feels intrusive. No matter how helpful he can occasionally be, no one wants Big Brother around all the time.

Building a son

There are plenty of people from history whom I admire and aspire to emulate. General Douglas MacArthur was never one that immediately jumped to mind, but recently a friend passed this Mac-penned prayer to me, and I think it's applicable to anyone who's a father or desires to be one someday.

Build Me a Son
Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid; one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory.

Build me a son whose wishbone will not be where his backbone should be; a son who will know Thee--and that to know himself is the foundation stone of knowledge.

Lead him, I pray, not in the path of ease and comfort, but under the stress and spur of difficulties and challenges. Here let him learn to stand up in the storm; let him learn compassion for those who fall.

Build me a son whose heart will be clear, whose goal will be high; a son who will master himself before he seeks to master other men; one who will learn to laugh, yet never forget how to weep; one who will reach into the future, yet never forget the past.

And after all these things are his, add, I pray, enough of a sense of humor so that he may always be serious, yet never take himself too seriously. Give him humility, so that he may always remember the simplicity of true greatness, the open mind of true wisdom, the meekness of true strength.

Then I, his father, will dare to whisper, "I have not lived in vain."

-General Douglas MacArthur, May 1952

Hot Hot Heat, 8/4, The Basement

Review coming in The Other Paper Thursday, 8/9.

Blitzen Trapper

It starts slowly, with a favorable review on a blog or two. But before you can say, "Volkswagen commercial," certain bands become blogosphere sweethearts. Sometimes the raves are justified, and sometimes bloggers seem to jump on the bandwagon because it's in vogue, because they read it in Pitchfork, or maybe because we all have a subconscious need for sacred cows. I never understood all the fuss about Tapes 'n Tapes last year, and currently, though I know this is hipster high treason, I think Panda Bear and Animal Collective are massively overhyped. Intriguing? Sure, but are these bands really worth all the "brilliant" and "genius" labels?

Blitzen Trapper, however, is one band that has a justified buzz. The Portland rockers' debut on Sub Pop, Wild Mountain Music, spans several styles, jumping from Neil Young to Pavement to Deliverance-style banjo pickin', all recorded on a four-track. It's lo-fi enough to add character, but not so much that it becomes grating.

As a former copy editor, I also appreciate the scruffy-necked crew's knack for appropriate song titles. "Country Caravan" sounds like the type of music you would hear in a cavalcade of countrymen, the title track sounds like a wilder version of backwoods mountain music and "Big Star" sounds like, you guessed it, Big Star. So if you like guitar pop, country, alt. country or indie rock, and you don't like your songs to go much over three minutes (even with ample guitar noodling and noise-- take note, jam bands), you'll find something on Wild Mountain Nation you like.

mp3: Blitzen Trapper - Wild Mountain Nation

The same, but different

When you're about to have a kid, everyone tells you that your life will never be the same, everything will change, etc. So far this does seem to be true for the most part, which is probably why everyone says it. I do think about things a little differently now; I'm responsible for another human life; poop, pee and vomit are a much larger part of my everyday routine; and my morning wake-up time ranges from 6 am to 10:30 am.

But, plenty of things inevitably stay the same. Amazon.com inadvertently epitomized this dichotomy recently with one of its pseudo-personalized recommendations based on my buying habits. It read:

"Customers who bought items in your Recent History also bought: The No-Cry Sleep Solution by Elizabeth Pantley and I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass by Yo La Tengo."