A Father’s Journal is written for all those Dads who feel they don’t quite fit the father image as defined by today's marketing masterminds on Madison Avenue. Indeed this journal is written for Primal Fathers, those who still wield weapons and tools of the Bronze Age, poaching mastodon for their tusks, fashioning them into flutes, dice and jacks for their kids. These aren’t the kind of lobotomized dads we sometimes see roaming the aisles of Toys-Я-Us, looking, glazed-eyed, for some uninspiring hunk of plastic to give Junior, or ones who collect with their kids Happy Meal figurines. No, these fathers are of the rare, almost extinct breed. The kind of dad who might upload scanned pages of Machanix Illustrated from the 50s in order to build for their children toys and implements of dubious safety, and most surly on some recalled toys list somewhere on the Net. One disclaimer: If you think I've started this blog for Theodore Kaczynski, a.k.a, the "Unibomber" wannabes, sorry, wrong blog. Primal Fathers mean well; they raise children to be resourceful, creative, and to abhor anything that McDonald's produces. Want a happy meal? Squirt a smiley face on your food.
All fathers can pretty much thank Ralph Nader for spoiling all the fun. With the publishing of Unsafe at Any Speed in 1965, Nader pretty much put the brakes on not only the Chevy Corvair, but on that seat-of-the-pants ingenuity that made living life on the edge so much fun, the brand of fun Primal Fathers love. In short, the book ushered in an entire generation of wusses and anal-retentive regulations designed specifically to drain all the fun out of boys and their toys. So, if you’re the kind of Dad who feels the institution of paternity has gotten softer than a slice of pre-chewed Wonderbread, and maybe sick of vicariously living out your reckless ways on your PS2 with your kids, please read on. This blog may be just your ticket back to 1964, or quite possible 1,200 BC.
Long live the Corvair. Long live the mastodon.
Mike Kubo
Kamakura, Japan
May 20, 2008
All fathers can pretty much thank Ralph Nader for spoiling all the fun. With the publishing of Unsafe at Any Speed in 1965, Nader pretty much put the brakes on not only the Chevy Corvair, but on that seat-of-the-pants ingenuity that made living life on the edge so much fun, the brand of fun Primal Fathers love. In short, the book ushered in an entire generation of wusses and anal-retentive regulations designed specifically to drain all the fun out of boys and their toys. So, if you’re the kind of Dad who feels the institution of paternity has gotten softer than a slice of pre-chewed Wonderbread, and maybe sick of vicariously living out your reckless ways on your PS2 with your kids, please read on. This blog may be just your ticket back to 1964, or quite possible 1,200 BC.
Long live the Corvair. Long live the mastodon.
Mike Kubo
Kamakura, Japan
May 20, 2008
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