Welcome back to another edition of Kev & A. If you have a question or need some advice, reach out at ElectricDraculaInquiries@gmail.com
Instead of getting my long awaited treatise about the Seann William Scott starring film Goon, I am going to answer two questions from friends of mine.
First up, from my buddy Jeff:
“Where do babies come from?“
Great. Glad we can all take this seriously.
Dude, I went to Catholic school. They did not want to explain this shit to us. You could ask, “Where do babies come from?” and get a response like, “From the grace of God, of course.”
Eventually, they had to breakdown the eighth grade classes into boys and girls one morning to make sure the afternoon was super awkward and none of us could look each other in the eye. And directly at the age where most of us had our bodies screaming, “RUB AGAINST THEM! RUB AS HARD AS YOU CAN!”
Our parents probably asked us all what we learned at school that day and none of us had the sense of humor to respond, “How to get my girlfriend pregnant.” It was, however, more useful, to some degree, than when they had us go through the D.A.R.E. program.
Nothing like having a cop regularly visit your classroom and breakdown how, when, and where to acquire narcotics and explain how good it feels to do them. Everyone walks away from those days with the knowledge of how to properly shoot heroin from a guy carrying a gun. It’s fucking great.
But at least I had enough shame after leaving the baby making class to tell my hormones to chill out for a minute.
Look, I don’t have any kids. I don’t want any kids. It is a conversation that I’ve had to have every time I got into a serious relationship I started in my 30s. I think one or two of my partners responded with a “We’ll see.” Well, guess what? We aren’t together anymore.
I think entirely too much about who I am and what is wrong with me to bring another life into this world. I wouldn’t be emotionally available enough to my children to not screw them up beyond repair because I would be worrying too much about screwing them up beyond repair. I lay awake at night, just letting my brain spiral into the depths of sheer darkness thinking about everything I did wrong that day and everything I will screw up the next day. I can’t even get in the shower without listening to a podcast so I don’t have too much time alone with my own thoughts. Am I a burden to all of my current loved ones? Almost definitely. Would I make a child come to the realization that life is meaningless at too early of an age? You betcha!
I mean, like…maybe I’m just too polite to have kids. That or too self-involved. Most likely the latter.
I also just never had the biological urge to procreate either. I’ve had a few people describe it to me as a switch that flips in their brains that tells them they need to make another one of themselves. My switch never switched. And as adorable as I was as a small being, one of me is enough.
My personal priorities regarding children is to figure out when my nephews will be old enough for me to give them my comic books and how old they will need to be before I can start showing them cool shit like pocket knives.
It’s also really funny that this question came from Jeff because he is a father several times over. I believe I have met all of them, too. In fact, I’ve gone to concerts with some of them. And every time I have, they hung out with their dad and had a blast. That’s how I know Jeff is a good dad. Even at times in their life when it is no longer cool to want to hang out with their dad, they are in the pit at a Jeff Rosenstock (different Jeff) or Rozwell Kid show, dancing around, singing their hearts out. Never for a second seeming like they hope no one realizes the dude next to them is their dad. Or that he hangs out with dudes like me. I would probably be a condescending prick to my kids about what music they listen to. “Oh yeah. You think that’s cool? Let me play you a better band that did it better 20 years ago, you little shit!”
So where do babies come from, Jeff? Hopefully from dudes like you. And from the grace of God, of course.
Today’s second question comes from my buddy Nick who is also on the right track to being a good father. His kid wants to hang out with him all the time, too, but it’s mostly because he is a baby and doesn’t know enough people to be discerning yet. Nick wrote:
Can I borrow $40?
No. Fuck you.
Thanks for reading everyone!