HEY OLD MAN!

Are you too old to be a dad?  Yes, I know – you may have been blessed with super-sperm but hey you – with the osteoarthritis and reading glasses – is your young “trophy wife” that much of a “trophy” if you have to start listening to Brahm’s Lullaby again?  You broke the mobile thirty years ago.  On purpose.  Are you sure?

 

 

 

“Not me,” you think.  I’m young at heart and virile and I’m a New Yorker and New Yorkers can do anything they set their minds to. If you think I’m going to marry a woman who has to take bioidentical hormones and has chin-whiskers, you’re nuts!” Perhaps so.  You are  so special. Just like your grandchildren from your first marriage. You are a new species, grand-daddy-new dads – I dub thee Elderdad Annoyingus.

 

 One can often spot Elderdad Annoyingus walking the streets of trendy-only neighborhood of any major city.   He is usually accompanied by his tall, lithe, often WASP, always blonde third wife and their children whom, more often than not, are named “Ava,” or “Sophie,” “Griffith,” or “Maxmillian,” and whom you will always mistake for his grandchildren.

Elderdad also has“practice” children from his previous marriages, parental “PSATS” if you will and, after an Amstel or six, he will confide, with a weather-worn smile and hail-fellow-well-met crinkle in his eye, that his current kids “are profiting from all the mistakes I made with my older kids!”  That’s peachy, Elderdad  Perhaps when your older kids get out of Hazelden or the Betty Ford Clinic, little Zelda or Trey will tell them what a fab dad you are now!

 

         Like many species, Elderdad is most comfortable among his own, which explains why you can usually find him either wandering aimlessly through Whole Foods, eager to spend as much for a pound of organic red grapes as he would on an area rug, or at his kids’ softball or soccer games, attempting to bond with the younger dads.   Behind his back, the younger dads will refer to him as either “the old guy,” or “PopPop. ”  That is, unless, Elderdad suggests that they all go “shoot some hoops,” at which point they will just call him “asshole” to his face.

 

         Other distinguishing features of Elderdad include his always unappealing head of hair, gray, graying or white, and either severely receding or pathetically pony-tailed. 

ponytail

When it comes to outerwear, Elderdad prefers either a baseball jacket with either the “Law and Order” or “Tribeca Film Festival” logo on the back, or three-quarter length, obscenely expensive black leather coat, preferably from Paul Smith.

 

 

 

         Elderdad’s environment is excruciatingly important, in fact key to the continued existence of his species.  He is happiest on land anywhere in SoHo, Tribeca and Park Slope, and characteristically does better in a loft, which he will always refer to as his “space.”   Though he wouldn’t think of living anywhere else, Elderdad and his family need to get out of New York, (which he always refers to as “the city,”), often.  In fact, he thrive on vacations, which Wife Number Three, in an attempt to sound European, will refer to as “holiday.”  And, while Elderdad’s politics lean notoriously to the left,  he’ll always opt to “holiday” in Vail, South Hampton or Jackson Hole, Wyoming, places where’d you have an easier time finding a Hyundai Elantra than you would a person of color.

 

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