The Father Of The Year Award Goes To....

I'm trying to convince my son to dye his hair black. A lot of rock stars have jet black hair, not that I've ever seen a black jet before. Come to think of it, most jets are white. Damn this language!

My son has no interest in dying his hair black, blond, red or blue. Undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm for my brilliant plan, I decided to create a Photoshop likeness of how I see 'the transformation'. It's today's image.

My plan for him is to dye his hair, wear shades much of the time, a headband, smoke, wear shirts with skeletons on them, get a tattoo or three, wear ripped jeans (how naughty!) and grow a half beard (the best that any Varty could do). I wouldn't be upset if he skipped classes to play his guitar, or if he said 'bye-bye' to his full scholarship at university and took the show on the road, playing arenas in all the big cities: the AC Centre in Toronto, the Staples Centre in L.A, and the Père Camille Léger Arena in Cap-Pelé.

How cool would that be? Sadly, it looks like my son is more interested in pursuing his academic studies than a life as a rock n' roller. Oh well, a father can still dream, right?

This makes me wonder where I went wrong. Was I not a good role model to my son? Did my singing and strutting around the house like Mick Jagger not leave some sort of impression on the boy?

Ian, you were more of a roll model. Cinnamon roll, that is.

Role models...now there's a dicey term. I was in a store called Digital World two weeks ago when I heard a commotion at the entrance. A man, probably in his late twenties said something, rather loudly, that rhymes with 'mucking ditch'. He was addressing his better half (?) who was trying to escape the store, if not more. He remained in the store with what was presumably their three year old son. I watched him in the store. He looked angry. I left the store just before he did, but I made a point to sit in my car and watch for fireworks when he left. He practically dragged the three year old to the waiting minivan.

His bottled blond partner was in the driver's seat, so to speak, but I doubt she ever really was. The bad dad lifted his little son up with the affection that one would show a sack of potatoes, then plunked him into his car seat. I watched carefully as mad dad grumbled with the blond. It was painful to watch such an unhappy family. That little kid will be damaged goods before he ever gets to kindergarten. I can't imagine what he's already seen in his short little life.

I would like to have done something nice for this unfortunate family, but intervention would have met with confrontation. There was nothing that a stranger could do to help. Perhaps I could have bought them some clothing: a snow suit for the three year old, a winter parka for the woman, and some shoes for the dad. Cement shoes. What a jerk and a coward he was. He won't be giving me a run for the money at the Father Of The Year Awards, even if I jokingly encourage my son to follow in Keith Richards' footsteps. Did I mention that sad dad was a jerk and a coward? Ah yes, I did.

You forgot to call him an asshole.

That he was. A lot of people are unhappy but it really pisses me off when the kids are the ones who suffer. No kid deserves a father like that. It's funny (not really) that you need a license to go fishing, but you can become a father overnight, more or less.

I'm not suggesting that we start a Canadian Penis Registry program, though the need for one could be argued. Like the Canadian Firearms Registry program, it would identify dangerous weapons. I'd suggest the father that I witnessed in Fredericton could be the first name on the list. He could be the poster boy for the movement.

In many ways, the penis is far more damaging than any gun. It's giving us deadbeat dads as well as overpopulation. Overpopulation may lead to more deaths than an army of guns could deliver. One of my all-time favorite sculptures sits outside of the United Nations building in New York City. You can see it by clicking here.

Perhaps we should have a similar statue in Canada, outside the Canadian Penis Registry building when it's built, which it surely will be. ACOA has already approved the funding. Of course the statue won't be of a gun. It will be of a knotty dad.