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During last night’s dinner at a local Mexican restaurant, the only time I have ever seen my father tipsy (64 oz. margarita), the discussion turned to blogging. My father insisted that Powerline is the best blog in existence, and accused me of being a DKos shill. Then he said he doesn’t like my hair.
It’s too bad my mom feels unable to give my father my blog address. It’s the foul language, she says. He would thusly know that his youngest daughter is skeptical of and not at all in line with most of the Daily Kos community. Further, he would probably be bothered that she is far left of Kos himself.
This week I’ve been helping my mother watch the baby girl of a family friend over at my parents’ house, during which time I have seen my father surf message boards with threads consisting entirely of “TAKE THAT YOU LIBRAL MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!11!1″
Clearly, it isn’t about the language.
He also regularly checks on blogs such as Powerline, Captain’s Quarters, Wonkette (for research purposes, I suppose), Instapundit, Michelle Malkin, and a blog named “two chicks and a” something or other, and referred to the writers as “smart young ladies.” I wish I could say the margarita inspired his adulation of radically right-wing blogs, but it wasn’t the alcohol.
I must be adopted.
My sister then brought up the topic of Air America, which she listens to for “entertainment value,” and how ridiculous she finds the commentators. Jerry Springer makes more sense than Al Franken, she said. This isn’t good. I thought about detailing my daily jaunts to wingnuttery by detailing how I listen to Limbaugh and Hannity for outrageous entertainment, but stayed mostly silent to keep the peace, in part because I was outweighed 3 to 1 on the political spectrum and they already think I’m nuts.
The worst part is that I was unable to jump in to explain the nature of blogging, expertise and community. My sister asked how many blogs I read a day — ten? twenty? She balked when I told her I read over two hundred blogs a day. My sister wanted to know the reason “reading people’s opinions” is so compelling. I got no further than the 30-second story, two-minute in-depth coverage criticism of national news media before the topic of conversation was forcibly changed.
I contemplated making a list of moderate and conservative bloggers for my dad to peruse, blogs that I respect despite our differences, but then I realized that it was I, when I first tried to explain to my father what a blog was, who showed him Instapundit in the first place. At that time, I didn’t want him to find his way to my site and chose a site very unlikely to link to mine. But yesterday, I saw him reading Wizbang, a conservative blog with which I have long-term connections, and realized we were crossing paths anyway.
For further reference, my father didn’t know how to turn on a computer before he hit the age of sixty.
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- Comments by Jill September 15, 2005
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I like the insertion of “1″s instead of exclamation points, as that always happens in such rants. Adds authenticity.
Even better, you could have misspelled something.
“It’s too bad my mom feels unable to give my father my blog address.”
Go ahead and tell him yourself. He should know what kind of daughter he raised, and once you’ve had a kid you’re old enough to swear with the other adults.
David, we’re still battling over whether or not it’s kosher for me to drink a glass of wine with dinner.
There, Linnaeus. I misspelled something for you. ;)
That’s just weird to me. One of the first things my dad asks when I come to visit him is, “Do you want a beer?” or “How about some vodka?”
Thanks, Lauren. Hilarious. :)
I stayed mostly silent to keep the peace, in part because I was outweighed 3 to 1 on the political spectrum and they already think I’m nuts.
I sympathize. But you’re not silent here, and that’s what counts. Go nuts!
I’ve stopped asking my (very) conservative dad what websites he reads. Most of his regular stops make steam come out of my ears. Of course, he talks a conservative game- but I’m never 100% sure he believes all the things he says! :)
All that to say I sympathize with you… and my dad doesn’t know about my blog either.
Most of my family and friends have no interest in what I blog about. It’s a blessing and a curse.
Thanks for the link.
eR :)
I saw World Net Daily bookmarked on my brother’s computer and decided he was dead to me. The most I can hope for is South Park Republicanism, which may be more annoying than Puritan Republicanism.
If my parents knew about my blog and/or read it even once, they’d probably both slit their own throats right then and there for shaming myself and the family name for the entire rest of eternity by “airing dirty laundry.” We’ll never get into StoVoKor this way!
I feel compelled to add that these differences are not so disappointing — except when I’m drowned out in the fray, as I often am — but amusing. I’m very much like my dad, but on the oppostite end of the spectrum.
I’m very much like my dad, but on the oppostite end of the spectrum.
I’m in exactly that same position. I’m reluctant to introduce my dad to blogs because of the very story you just told: I’m sure he’d find Powerline or something worse (he’s a sucker for a good conspiracy theory — actually, they don’t have to be that good) and then I’d be really sorry.
When I blogged about my sister, apparently the entire family sat down to read it, and he read that post and kept right on reading for hours. He never said anything to me about it though, so I’m not sure what he thought. Mind you, I’m not exactly complaining.
So what is your list of moderate/conservative bloggers? There are a few I like, but even some of the best can’t seem to resist the temptation to dip into rabid wingnuttery from time to time.
Power Line? Captain’s Quarter’s? Malkin?
These people have been shown to be liars and tin-foiley conspiracy theorists. That wouldn’t be so bad if they weren’t so unapologetic about it. I understand that it’s just politics, and people tend to read what will reinforce preconceived notions, blah, blah, blah, but come on….
Any blog where the term “islamofascist” appears in the original text in unironic fashion is nothing but a hate site. Rant over.
If my parents knew about my blog and/or read it even once, they’d probably both slit their own throats right then and there for shaming myself and the family name for the entire rest of eternity by “airing dirty laundry.”
Which is not as bad as it sounds, in my experience. (Assuming the throat-slitting is metaphorical.)
I’m pretty sure my immediate family wishes to hell I’d never started blogging.
Lauren, I can utterly relate. I’m 45 and an opinionated jerk and I still just avoid talking to my O’Reilly-watching dad about politics. I’m grateful that my baby brother and I are pretty much sympatico when it comes to politics. (And my niece is like a total riotgrrl.)
Lauren, I so emphasize with you. I used to think I was adopted too, but I have a brother who not only looks like my taller twin, but pretty much shares my leftyism. Perhaps the critical thought gene skips a generation?
Our loving mom listens to Limbaugh every day(!) and told me how attractive Sean Hannity is. My dad’s Libertarian Democrat who’s probably voted Republican since the 60′s. Another brother takes after the mom, but he’s less openminded (pretty much vomits FNC every time he opens his mouth). I’ll talk for hours about the logic behind my views, but they pretty much just talk louder.
You can imagine how fun family functions can be.
Lauren:
You go to adulthood with the daddy you’ve got and not the daddy you want. You obviously love the old bugger and I wager that he loves you much. If I am right, you are greatly gifted in your journey, less by his political constipation and more by his acceptance. “Wanna beer” is an old fart way of expressing love.
This old fart (68) and old airborne soldier has a 39 yr. old lesbian daughter who looks 18, runs a warehouse for Liz Claiborne, has her carpenter ticket as fallback and loves the world in grace and comedy. She is my best friend.
Whenever “daddy” pisses you off, consider me as a short-term substitute via e-mail – an elderly lefty who enjoys your blog and does patronizing shit (“my dear young woman…”) only when asked or goaded.
Good on you, Lauren. Blog on. I’m reading with pleasure.
Bob
My brother’s the odd one; Dad and I are pretty confirmed lefties (Dad taught for his whole life, so not a lot of surprise there), but Eric’s a sucker for the flag. Give him NASCAR, some immigrant bashing, and welfare contempt and he’s happy.
Still, I love him and we get along great– we just never talk politics.
In our family, I used to be the weirdly conservative one. Then I got over that and moved way left. Now, my centrist very-slightly-leaning-liberal father is on the right end in my family. Mom’s a little more liberal, then comes me. My brother is a socialist.
My daddy sure does love those right-wing blogs, too. He also likes reading Ann Coulter. But I have to give him his propers. He reads my blog every day and says that I’m a better writer than Coulter. He doesn’t agree with a single opinion I have, ‘cept that the Bushies spend way too much money, but he says I make him laugh. So, even if he’s a right-winger, he’s pretty cool for one.
My parents and brother all read my blog, but they don’t comment out of some sense of “this is your blog, and it wouldn’t be right to interfere”. Which is a point of view I don’t understand at all, particularly as my mother will occasionally do things like (for example) email me about a comment to my blog that really offended her, and didn’t it offend me too, and was I going to post anything in response that horrible horrible comment? And then we’ll have this bizarre back-and-forth where I say that I wasn’t at all offended, and she’ll speculate wildly about what the poster really meant, and I’ll speculate that she’s wrong, and neither of us will actually contact the commenter because 1) I’m not offended by the comment, and 2) she thinks “it would be inappropriate” to comment on my personal blog. And so on.
All in all, though, I’m glad they read TD&M; they keep me honest. And I don’t write about them, with the exception of the occasional childhood story in which they’re supporting players; I feel I owe them that sort of privacy, and their stories aren’t mine to tell.
Moebius Stripper: My mom occasionally comments here under a pseudonym. Unlike my dad, she learned to use a computer way back when we rented the green screen monster from a local company. Dad never bothered. He always had an assistant at work and used a yellow legal pad for EVERYTHING, including the awesomely ugly doodles he used to make while talking on the phone. He still does this, but now on pictures of politicians in the paper.
What a tangent, there.
On a tangent to your tangent (and somewhat back to the original topic? sort of? I hope), my dad’s been very computer literate for as long as I can remember, but it took AGES for us to convince my mom to even try to use a computer. When she did, there was a period of a year or so when my (old) blog was the only thing she ever read online. When I started that blog, I made one post about a knee injury I’d just suffered. The injury itself was no big deal, but my mom worries about me all the time, so I decided not to tell her about it directly, and I wrote something on my blog like, “If anyone reading this knows my mom, don’t mention this, okay? And Mom – on the off chance that YOU’RE reading this, could you please tell me why you chose THIS week to learn to use the internet?”
Six months later, my mom (who by then knew of my knee problem, since her and Dad’s insurance was paying for the treatment) was going through my archives, ran across that post, and just about fell over laughing.