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Suburban Paradise

August 3rd, 2010  |  by  |  Published in Uncategorized  |  1 Comment


As I mentioned in my post on JP’s braining I’m on vacation at my mother’s house in a southern suburban bedroom community.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I live in New York, I am in most ways a New Yorker (which is why I have no friends), and I am inordinately pleased both with my life here and with myself for living it (I’m also the most humble guy you’ve ever met). But when I do, on occasion, undertake an expedition into the wilds of flyover country, I am struck by just how fine you folks have it out here in the middle of nowhere, with your stultifying conformity, gigantic trucks, and low cost of living. It truly is an American Dream.

Is it really true that you don’t have to sleep with the school administrator to get your kid into pre-k? And that your homes come with, I think the term is…parking? For your gigantic trucks? Maybe even two of them?

Today I took JP to a place called Monkey Joe’s, which is, and I can’t think of any other way to describe it, a festival of trampolines. It was trampoline nirvana. Here is where all good trampolines go to die, to be jumped on by perfect little suburban children educated at their local schools. And at this idyllic oasis of bounciness, they had, seriously–giant recliner chairs for the parents to sit in and do abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Just sit! No helicoptering whatsoever. Instead of the parents doing anything, they were encouraged to watch a giant screen tv (set to Fox News–and I’m not making that up),while paid supervisors circulated around the place supervising the children. Dressed up like sports referees. With whistles!

Did I mention the air conditioning?  Now I’m not talking about the guilty, bullshit, don’t waste the freon, hogwash AC we’ve become accustomed to in NYC. No, I mean environmental control, my friends, frosty, fuck-the-environment-because-no-one-even-pretends-to-give-a-shit-the-whole-fucking-thing-is-made-up air conditioning.

And pizza. And cotton candy. And giant cokes with refills. And some blue sports drink called “Yummie Tummies,” which is apparently all the rage. All bought and paid for in a strip mall! With excessive parking! That never gets crowded!

God bless America.



    Don't Lose Your Marbles | DADWAGON

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