Q&A: Paul Ford, writer, nerd, father

Seeing as DadWagon exists entirely in what the children like to refer to as “Cyberspace,” we figured we would do an interview with an actual Internet guru type. Paul Ford founded the blog Ftrain.com in 1997, when computers still came with worker gerbils running on a wheel. His novel, Gary Benchley, Rock Star, first appeared, in serial form, at The Morning News, where he is a regular contributor. His writing on technology and the imagination has appeared in Harper’s, New York Magazine, and lots of other places that I am too lazy to read. This interview took place a few weeks before the arrival of his twins last week.

Theodore: Okay. Here goes: According to your website, you are a “nerd,” someone that people can rely on for accurate information on a wide array of topics. In that light, and given the fact that you are about to be the father of twins, I’m going to ask you to explain (or at least guess) at a few kiddie-related concepts. Here’s the first: elimination communication. Please explain, nerd.

Paul: First, Ted, allow me to say how glad I am to be here and speaking to the fine citizens of DadWagon. Second, elimination communication. This is something I’ve often heard discussed. I know in our insular community of anxious, competitive parents, it’s become quite a thing. And the basic idea is, that, rather than your child being a firehose of pure shit, instead, you can have a deep, intimate interaction with your baby about elimination. In my head, it’s a lot of waving. I think it involves hand signals.But there is one thing I am sure of: People who practice elimination communication are bad people and they live a life of lies. All of them are secretly monsters who enjoy experimenting on helpless babies. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. ESPECIALLY IN PARK SLOPE>BAD BAD MOTHERS. I kind of want to revise that for maximum rage-induction. Also, DiaperFreebaby.org is looking for a public relations manager. Application SENT.

Theodore: Enlightening! In truth, I didn’t really expect an answer. I just find the word “elimination” to be funny, discomforting, and totally awesome. But that was great. Next up: Baby Yoga: porn, wacko and dangerous practice, or both?

Paul:  Oh, wait: Here is the crazy article with the picture of Hannah Rothstein at 7 months that basically SET PARK SLOPE ON FIRE: http://www.nytimes.com/2005/10/09/nyregion/09diapers.html. The Times is the source of all evil.

Baby yoga is basically one step up from cat yoga. Also, babies are incredibly flexible. My biggest fear before becoming a dad was that I’d break baby. But I went over to my friend’s place and he has a seven-month-old and I watched him change some diapers, and I realized, babies are completely bendy. You can wave them around like chicken. But to be totally clear, I am totally fine with baby hatha yoga, but very mixed on ashtanga and iyengar for babies.

Theodore: “Bendy.” Another word I enjoy and hate all at the same time. Last one: please sketch the legal history that allowed us to arrive at “no touch” sunscreen policies in children’s summer camps. Also, please let our readers know if you ever put sunscreen on yourself, which as a male, could legally be considered molestation.

Paul: Wait what? Summer camps? I’m half-Irish. Summer camp meant sitting quietly in the basement waiting for the yelling to stop.

Theodore: Yes. Summer camp. Macaroni art. Socialist sing-alongs. Softball. You’ve worked in media long enough, my friend. As an honorary Jew, you should know from summer camp. But if you wanna pass on that one…

Paul: I do know from summer camp. So the sunscreen thing is weird. Is the issue simply that we don’t want men to rub sunscreen on little boys? The answer here is simple: Sunscreen-applying robots.

Theodore: I like that. I should get one to help keep my Roomba protected from the sun.

Paul: Exactly. I was about to say something about being an honorary Jew, and then I realized that I’m sitting here drinking seltzer in Brooklyn and my half-Jewish wife is in the other room.

Theodore: Okay. Onward. Many of our readers enjoyed your story “Nanolaw with Daughter,” but frankly, I thought that, while well-written, there was a certain naïveté hidden amid the great big piles of click-baited techno-story-telling. You wrote this before the kids came, and it almost sounded as if you thought children were nice, rational, clean little beings with normal questions, instead of the feral hamsters that they actually are. I refer you to the last line of the story:

“One team would win; another team would lose; or they’d tie; or it would rain. All would go home. And days or decades from now, someone will find a way to cull, to merge, to bend the bobbing ponytails to their own ends and use them in some scheme. They will steal that light as if were nothing, as if it were not life itself.”

Pretty. Very pretty. But will this help with elimination hits the fan? Please comment.

Paul: “But will help with elimination hits the fan?” Also, the child in that story was ten.

Theodore: Uh, sorry, I mean, but will your idealism help when the elimination hits the fan.

Paul: Ah, I see. Well, actually, in that story the girl is interested in becoming a lawyer and suing the whole world. She has fantasies of absolute power and control. But the father is only beginning to see and understand them. I wish I could be idealistic, but as you know from our work history together, it’s a sucker’s game. But I’m going to do absolutely everything I can to give both of my children the ability to be the worst little hamster monsters they possibly can.

Theodore: By the way, speaking of half-Jewish, here’s something I researched for my book and was writing about today: The Half-Jewish Network. And it’s not a TV station. The woman who founded it uses the e-mail handle “binary star.”

Paul: OOOOF.

Theodore: Not that that’s relevant, but you mentioned seltzer.

Paul: Of course. Somehow this conversation has ended up being about Jews, Ted. I wonder who made that happen.

Theodore: The media did, Paul. And the bankers. Be afraid.

Paul: Here’s something I reasearched for MY book, which is called “SHUT UP ABOUT JEWS TED.”

Theodore: Ouch. That was the most anti-Semitic thing anyone has ever said to me. You are soooo going in my book now.

Paul: Then who will blurb it?

Theodore: Good point. Okay. So I know you went to the Hershey School as a kid growing up. Is that correct?

Paul: Yes, I graduated from Milton Hershey School in Hershey, Pennsylvania.

Theodore: Can you tell me about that? Because without really knowing much about it, I’m getting Willie Wonka vibes.

Paul: So! No. Not very Wonka-ish. Milton Hershey is a boarding school for poor kids, basically. They dress you and educate you, and you live in student homes. They also gave me money for college. The school controls HerCo, which is the corporation that puts out all the various Hershey brands. Everything did smell of chocolate there. And we spent a lot of time learning about Milton Snavely Hershey and his wife Fanny, who couldn’t have children of their own (one biographer points to Fanny’s syphilitic infertility as a cause, but that’s contested, or at least disliked), so they founded an orphanage.

Theodore: Well, that doesn’t sound horrible at all, which is what I was going for. Let’s move on. Again, we’re doing this interview before you are officially a parent. I’d like you to cast your mind forward, and assuming you’re not superstitious, describe what you think the first week is going to be like.

Paul: Well, there will be two babies. So I expect it to be basically a complete apocalyptic festival of crazy. We are hiring a baby nurse for the first few weeks. Which is a lot like hiring a nanny, but much, much less fraught with social anxiety and confusion. I’ve been told to expect no sleep, and that I will change many diapers. My wife will likely have a C scar. And I probably won’t leave the house much. And everyone has told me at length that poo will run my life. And that there will be multiple colors of poo. Also, wipe front to back for girls. I’ve been told that. And give up any ambitions and hopes you have for yourself, and subvert your sense of identity to these screaming bags of pure hunger and fear. So, a lot like having cats.

Theodore: Maybe you’re less naïve when you’re not blogging, because that sounds about right. A question: How is hiring a baby nurse less fraught with social anxiety and confusion? I’d say illegal labor is illegal labor, my friend. And also, the poo is nothing. It’s all about sleep. Sleep is everything. And yes, that wiping in different directions totally threw me, too.

Paul: Less fraught because it’s only for a few weeks. And we’ve been told it’s cool to pay by check, so I’m assuming SOMETHING is on the up-and-up with our baby nurse scenario (they have a website, too, and references from our friends).

Theodore: I’d like to point out to our readers that you don’t actually live in Park Slope. Can you comment on why not? Don’t you think it’s the ideal environment in which to raise children?

Paul: We live in Ditmas [a gentrifying neighborhood not far away]. And nearly every unit in our building has a stroller in front. And the way that happened is, people were living in Park Slope and they said, “we need more space,” and the realtor said, “It’s $6,000 a month for a two-bedroom,” and BAM, Ditmas.

Theodore: Anyway, so next question. I find that my life as an editor and writer is somewhat less than financially satisfying. Do you have any thoughts about the career choices of your unborn children? I was whispering “stock trader” in the ears of both of my children when I was still a black-and-white blob on the periphery of their undeveloped vision.

Paul: Well, so, you know, I make most of my living as a programmer/consultant-type, right? Because of that problem with writing. My father always said: A man should have both a profession and an avocation. Which, I mean, he was an experimental poet who taught creative writing and wrote weird plays. So, you know, teaching was his profession. So I would encourage my children to be able to do a few things, some that make money, and some that are satisfying, but also hope that they could understand that it can be a fool’s errand to try to make the ones that don’t make money into moneymakers. This will all seem funny when my daughter drops out of law school to be a PA on independent films.

Theodore: Wait, your dad was an experimental poet? Did he ever write anything about you? What the fuck is an experimental poet? How do I not already know about this?

Paul: Sure! He had a number of plays produced and his poems were all over the place.

Theodore: Can you quote from memory, perchance?

Paul: I can do better: He has a blog that he updates every day with a play or story: http://motleycrisp.blogspot.com/

Theodore: Really! Did you get him into that?

Paul: Nah, he did it on his own. He was always good with computers.

Theodore: Nice. Best my dad could do was the Times crossword, in pen. Last one: Would you like to say anything to your babies? Something that they can find some day and understand where you mind was at this particular moment?

Paul: Oh, it’s impossible without being sentimental. There’s just no cleverness in me on that particular subject. Basically, my mind was on the babies. And that’s where it will stay.

Theodore: Good answer.

Q&A: Jason Domnarski of Park Slope Rock School Paris

Class in session at Park Slope Rock School (Brooklyn).

Last weekend, while my wife, Jean, and I were traipsing around Paris, we stopped into a cool children’s clothing store, where a flyer near the door caught my eye: “Park Slope Rock School Paris,” it read: “Throughout the semester our students make music as a band and learn the basics of playing and performing rock music in a collaborative setting; students will learn popular Anglo-American rock hits and write their own songs.”

Uh, Park Slope? In Paris? It turns out that this school of rock is actually the newly opened Paris branch of the four-year-old Brooklyn school, spearheaded by Jason Domnarski, a pianist with the electro-jazz-rock trio JDT. Fascinated by the nascent connections between Paris and hipster Brooklyn, I asked Jason—30 and married, but not yet a father—to talk with me via Skype about exporting the borough’s culture overseas.

Okay, what exactly is Park Slope Rock School?

PSRS is an independent music school for kids aged 8-16. Over the course of the 15 week semester, students are placed into bands and begin to learn the ins and outs of learning, writing and performing rock music. We also place a huge emphasis on writing original music, allowing the students to express themselves creatively, all while working with their peers in a band context.

Are there multiple classes, or just one all-encompassing semester course?

All classes are centered around weekly band instruction. The students meet once a week in their band. We currently have 6 bands.

Do the bands have names?

Well, we just started our fall semester this past weekend, so many of them are not yet named…but yes, each band names themselves. We have been working with one band for many years named FLITE. They’ve won the NYC Battle of the Bands twice now. We’re very proud! Past names have included Revolve, The Messed Up Hobos, Magnetic Feedback. It’s funny, the kids are able to pick up a Rolling Stones tune in one class but getting them to decide on a name takes forever!

So, why open Park Slope Rock School in Paris?

Because my wife lives here and I had to move. But I’ve been very inspired by what has happened with the school in Brooklyn and feel that Paris kids are ready for the program. Most music education here in Paris is based in conservatories or independent schools that focus on classical or jazz studies. There are very few outlets for children to play rock/pop music and have a go at writing their own music. That, and applied English language activities are very popular here, so what better way to practice your English with some Beatles lyrics with a guitar in hand?

Does “very few” mean that you have competition on the “teaching tweens and teens to rock” circuit?

There isn’t really any competition here for what I do. There are a few schools that have begun to teach young children some songs from the rock canon, but most of them focus on younger children with more of a singalong setting. As far as band programs, there isn’t anything here yet. And to have the Brooklyn school already successful brings some cachet to the program. The fact that I’m American and conduct the classes in English is a huge plus and quite unique here.

Do Parisians have the Jack Black movie “School of Rock” as a reference point? Do they mention that to you when they sign kids up?

Ah yes. No interview is complete without the Jack Black reference. I have not heard anyone utter his name over here. A nice change from Brooklyn, where I can’t escape the comparision. I may sound bitter, but I’m not. If not for that movie, rock schools wouldn’t be the force they are today. And it’s one of my top 5.

What kinds of kids/families are signing up in Paris so far?

So far, I have many international families. Most students are bilingual, either American, British, Swiss etc… I have a couple French families and the word is continuning to spread in that community. The parents, much like in Brooklyn, tend to be musicians, writers, photographers … very creative folks.

What does “Park Slope” actually mean to Parisians?

That is the question at the moment. In naming the school Park Slope Rock School PARIS, I really wanted to build on the brand and create a community where the Brooklyn families and Paris families could see what was happening across the ocean … be a part of something big, but at the same time small and boutique like. There are a few families that have mentioned they know of Park Slope, either having been there or from reading about it, but I also think it’s a new neighborhood for a lot of French people. Maybe I’ll introduce them to the borough! Or maybe I’ll have to change the name because it’s too confusing.

But don’t Parisians have some sense of what Brooklyn is/means? When I was there last week, “Brooklyn” seemed big. My wife even bought a sweatshirt with the words “Brooklyn parle français.”

It’s true. Brooklyn is huge here and has huge cachet. But I don’t think the individual boroughs are as well known. I’ve heard the name Williamsburg being dropped here and there, but that’s it. I think the fashion, art and music styles are very Brooklyn in a few arrondisements here. But what I like is there is still the Parisian take on this. One of the things that drove me crazy about living in Williamsburg was that everyone spent so much time looking edgy, but if you took the L train at night, they all looked the same. Here I can see the influences, but it’s a little less obvious.

Where is PSRS Paris located?

PSRS Paris classes are held at SMOM Studios in the 20th Arrondisement. The 20th feels very Brooklyn to me. There are tons of young creative types and young families living here and the area is rapidly gentrifying. Some of the best music clubs are here in the 20th.

Would you call the 20th the Williamsburg of Paris?

Definitely. Walk up Rue Oberkampf at 1am and it’s virtually identical to Bedford. Only the people are better looking … sorry BK! Technically, Oberkampf is in the 11th, but ends in the 20th. Some people like to split hairs about these types of things.

All right then, where’s the Park Slope of Paris?

Hmmm. I think you can find the same type of vibe in the 11th, 9th and 20th Arr. Brownstone Brooklyn will always be it’s own thing, thank god, but these Arr are quite trendy, with tons of great cafes, bars, vintage shops, expensive kid stores. There are almost as many Maclarens here as in PS, unfortunately!

And we call them bobos, btw.

For “bourgeois bohemians,” naturally. How else do Parisian and Brooklyn parenting trends match up?

I’m not sure if I’m the best person to ask about that.

Well, you see and deal with these kids and their families, right?

I have much more experience dealing with Brooklyn families. My Paris program starts next week, so I haven’t yet seen them in action, but my interactions so far have been quite similar. All the parents seem to want to find a positive, fun, and musical outlet for their kids but there doesn’t seem to be a lot out there for that.

In Brooklyn, parents are incredibly supportive of their children and love to see their child involved in creative, slightly unique, activites. That being said, some can go too far and try to live vicariously through their kids, wishing to relive their college band days.

I think the same can be said for the Paris folks.

In Paris, what’s the attitude towards “alterna-dads” with their band T-shirts, cool sneakers, skateboards, kids in rock school, and facial hair? Are they as dismissive of them as we Brooklynites are? (Full disclosure: I am one of them.)

Ha! I love it. I’m sure I’ll be there with you in a couple years. I see the hip Dads everywhere here and I’m proud to now offer them a rock school for their kids to complete the image! However, I don’t feel the same judgement of these types as I did in Brooklyn. It’s funny. Paris is a much smaller town than NYC or even Brooklyn, but I feel the concentration in Park Slope, Prospect Heights, and Williamsburg is astounding. It’s like there’s a magnet.

And the few dads I know like this are surprisingly uninterested in a big social life, getting out there and being seen. They’re kind of “all about the kids” right now.

What kind of differences do you see in how Paris and Brooklyn families function? Are there things that Brooklyn parents or kids do that Parisians would never do? Or vice-versa?

Hmm. Give me a sec.

I think a big difference between the two involves kids’ extra curricular activities. I think this is also indicative of a larger difference between the states and France. I’m astounded by how busy and overworked some of our Brooklyn students are. Music classes, karate, tutors, SAT prep, play dates… There’s so little time in the week for the kid to just hang out. I think there’s a big emphasis here on making sure families spend more time together than just in a car, running from one activity to another. I don’t know every Parisian child’s schedule, so I’m sure there are exceptions, but so far I’ve been dealing with much more relaxed parents in Paris.

AND

When a kid falls down in Paris, the parents give him a second to deal with him/herself, rather than scooping them up, getting out the disinfectant and cooing. I know it’s a weird aside, but I’ve seen it a few times. Less tiger moms, if I can use a now clichéd term.

Back to the school: Are you adjusting the curriculum at all? I know it’s just getting started, but are there English-language songs or bands that are well-known in Paris but not in America? And are you boning up on Johnny Hallyday and Serge Gainsbourg tunes as well?

I’m hoping to introduce many of the same bands as I do in Brooklyn: Rolling Stones, AC/DC, Beatles, Tom Petty, David Bowie. I am a huge Gainsbourg fan, but I’m not sure if I want 10 year old girls to be singing “Je T’Aime Moi Non Plus.” The British and American rock canon has definitely made it over here, so I don’t think I should have a problem. I know a few already want to learn some Phoenix songs, of course! What I’m looking forward to seeing are the original songs with English lyrics. It’s hard enough to write lyrics in your native language, so we’ll see what the French students come up with. It’s going to be awesome.

Until the backlash, of course. When Park Slope and Brooklyn are involved, there’s always a backlash. Right?

I think the two can live happily ever after! I would even love to see some exchange program happening with Paris and Brooklyn bands. Play a show in the other city, hang out for a week. How awesome. But that’s still a pipe dream.

I love Park Slope, despite it’s excess of strollers and fascist state food coop. (I’m going to get in trouble for that.) There are very few communities like it in the country and I’m so happy to be able to interact with the kids and families on a regular basis. I hope Paris will be the same way. I definitely hope the bands will be as good, because the Brooklyn kids rock!

The Imaginary Bathtub Mystery, or: Who Is Uncle Peanut?

The interloper.

Last night, Sasha took an extra-long bath. After I’d scrubbed her up and down, she began to play, taking a plastic bottle cap and setting it on the edge of the tub. Next to that she placed a tube of Jean’s face wash—and began referring to these objects as Little Kid (the bottle cap) and Little Mommy. Then she brought over a bigger bottle of shampoo—Little Daddy, she dubbed it—and embarked on a drama, in which Little Daddy went off to work, over on the other side of the tub, then finally returned, to much joy.

Okay, fairly clear metaphor here, of my going away on long trips, then eventually coming back. Sasha’s play wasn’t particularly emotional, but it was fascinating to watch her act out our family dynamic with bath gear.

But it was what happened next, when Little Daddy went off to “work” again, that really took me by surprise. With Little Daddy on the other side of the tub, Sasha picked up the biggest bottle of shampoo in reach and brought it over to Little Kid and Little Mommy.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“Uncle Peanut,” she said.

Uncle Peanut? Who was this mysterious metaphorical man coming to visit my metaphorical family while I was away? Did he stand in for someone real? If so, who?

For a while, Sasha conjured unintelligible interactions among the three of them, and I grew more and more suspicious. When would Little Daddy return and beat the fuck out of this interloping Mister Peanut?

Or had Sasha said something else—Mister Penis? Hm. I needed to clear this up.

“What’s his name?” I asked again, pointing at the bottle of shampoo.

“Uncle Ted,” said Sasha.

Well! Theodore, you’ve got some explaining to do.