by Jason Good
“Oh bullshit. You knew that. I don’t care about you playing video games. I don’t want you hanging around people with dirty T-shirts and hockey hair.” Dad paused for a moment, then continued, “Jesus Christ, it’s almost worse that you watched. Who watches someone play a video game? How bored do you have to be to watch someone do something that’s already boring?”
His anger turned to disbelief, which triggered his comedic imagination. “What is it that you do, exactly, while watching these guys? Do you talk to them? Tell them, ‘Nice move, buddy’? Get them sodas? Are you some kind of corner man for them? Jesus Christ, Jason.”
We sat in silence, each of us staring off into a separate distance. I think Dad felt adequately vented, and since it appeared to have been a hot, short fire, I didn’t want to reignite it by saying something stupid.
But after a few minutes, I summoned a measure of bravery and asked, “Can we still go to the zoo?” My voice cracked a bit. I wanted nothing more than for things to go back to normal. I suddenly hated that arcade, hated myself for going, and hated my bike and the flower beds for facilitating it all. I wanted to take a sledgehammer to a Dig Dug machine. I think Dad saw this, and after taking a moment, he broke into a smile. “Hell, yes. Let’s go to the zoo.”
Acknowledgments
To all the people who never lost patience with me:
My mother, Jody Good, who read every word of this book—sometimes sentence by sentence as I emailed them to her, asking, “Is this any good?” She never gave me enough praise so that I’d settle, and never so much criticism that I’d give up.
My father, Michael Good, who is my biggest fan. And I am his. Most sons can’t say that about their dads, and I consider myself beyond fortunate.
My wife, Lindsay Forsythe, who orchestrated her own life so that I could write this book. It’s what loving spouses do for each other, and I will return the favor whenever she sees fit.
Daniel Smith, Henry Cherry, and Todd Pruzan, who provided the kind of guidance one expects of true friends.
My sons, Silas and Arlo, who know how to live in the moment. To them, there is nothing else. Thank you for always being you, guys.
My writer’s group—Stephanie Ash, Geoff Herbach, Mary Mack, and Dennis Cass—somehow made this process more fun than I’d anticipated.
My editor, Lorena Jones, and agent, Courtney Miller-Callihan, who always made time for me and always knew what to say. And to designer Jennifer Tolo Pierce and managing editor Sara Golski for adding polish.
All my other full and partial readers—Amy Bass, Kate Bolick, Emily Chenoweth, Robert Dowling, Carly Kimmel, David Maclean, Virginia Snyder, Dave Toht, Betony Toht, and Amy Williams—whose help I needed. I promise never to be quite so needy again. Unless, of course, I write another book.
Remember when you were young and you thought your dad was Superman, and then you grew up and realized he’s just a drunk who wears a cape?
—DAVE ATTELL
photo credit: PHOTO BY JODY GOOD
JASON GOOD is a writer, comedian, family man, and the blogger behind JasonGood.net. He lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota.