To prove my point...

That's me, second from left, at 23. I was wearing almost the same shirt I'm wearing below. I was also wearing paint-splattered torn jeans. Guess what? I bought a similar pair about six months ago. When will I learn?

15. Find that line between age appropriate and old...

(Age appropriate? Hmm...boat-neck shirt I wore in my 20s and pigtails. You tell me.)

I think about this a lot. Earlier I was looking at The Sartorialist (if you like fashion, check out this blog http://www.thesartorialist.blogspot.com/) and loving on the way these girls dress. I actually found myself thinking about what was in my closet and how I might throw something similar together to get that "whimsical" uncontrived look. Of course I just randomly paired those early 2000 Marc Jacobs flats with that tattered denim shirt, leggings and vintage scarf. I don't have to take a moment to think about what I put on, it just comes so naturally to me!

Please. There are days when I wish I didn't have to leave my house for what I believe to be a lack of anything acceptable to wear. I have never been smart about what I buy. I've always bought with my heart and not my head (much like I've lived the rest of my life), so therefore my closet is a mess of paint splattered jeans, flannel shirts, beautiful uncomfortable shoes, nonsensical skirts, expensive dresses that I rarely have occasion to put on (unless playing dress-up for someone), and lots of t-shirts and sneakers that I am way too old to wear.

Which brings me to my point. What is that fine line between dressing your age without dressing "old"? As a guy, if you're sporting a backwards flat hat (earlier blog) and skinny jeans and you're over, say, 34 (I think I'm being generous), you really do look like an idiot. Sorry, but true. And if you're a woman over 34 and wearing short cut-off shorts and gladiator sandals -- well, same story. It doesn't matter if you look amazing for your age; this is L.A., most people d0. It's about using your instincts and your inner elegance and doing the right thing. 

I violate my own rules all the time, and I have my moral compass in the form of an 11-year-old in the next room to remind me on a daily basis where I'm messing up. Clothes have been a hard one to give up. I read recently (and this is a loose memory) that we stop emotionally aging at 24. True or not, it makes sense to me. I still eye the latest fashions and the cute 20ish boys as if I belong there. I still feel the same wounds, the same joys, the same desires. 

But, I'm learning: just because you can doesn't mean you should.

A repost...Don't dance in front of your kid!

I've been asked to re-post this; while it's true that it's easy to scroll down and find it, my friend pointed out that new visitors to the blog might not do so, and another friend said they hadn't seen this one at all. So, since it's a favorite I'm going to repost it.

I also want to add one thought about why kids don't like their parents to dance in front of them. I touched on this in the comments section, but I want to elaborate. Dancing sexualizes a person (I mean, unless you're square dancing at Gilley's or doing the Polka at a relative's wedding) and for a kid, that's almost as bad as dying or showing up to school naked. A subject to never, ever even think about, much less have to witness when Mom or Dad are grooving to Shuggie Otis or Lil' Wayne.

Unless you're part of the Bolshoi Ballet or Alvin Ailey or some other company where you're making the big bucks, don't do it. No exceptions. NEVER dance in front of your children. I speak only from experience, from the horrified expression on my son's face when I dared to even tap my finger on the steering wheel of my car when "Juicy Fruit" or "Dancing Queen" came on the radio. Even worse, a pop song from his world (see above video). There's just no living it down. I remember seeing my dad dance when I was 10 or 11. It was summer, it was our annual neighborhood picnic, he'd had one too many Busch beers and he started to bust a move to a Mac Davis song. If I'm relaying this story now when I barely remember my childhood, then that explains the impact.

Trust me, DON'T DANCE IN FRONT OF YOUR KID.

14. If your kid gets in trouble, be there - NO MATTER WHAT!

This means without judgments, preconceived notions, whatever the crime, protect your kid. Chances are, it's a minor infraction: she stayed out too late with the hottie high-school wrestler dude, or Junior couldn't resist the captivating band girl and it's probably going to be okay. There's something much better about them now than us at their age, or certainly than me at their age. I had no identity and followed whatever path of trouble that called my name (or, sadly, didn't call my name but rather a name I thought meant for me...). Still, I managed to make a life, grow up, try stuff out, then have my own kid. But those early "getting in trouble" years still haunt me. I now know that it wasn't cool for my friend's dad to hang out with me in their dark apartment (which I thought was cool since I'd only ever known people with houses) and play Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon while passing me a joint. It took many years for me to admit - hey, that was off.  His kids were long gone and I was still sieving seeds from the crease of Boston's More Than a Feeling.

Somehow, though, I escaped that life, which is another story for another time. But I'm heading with my son  into the years of adolescence, puberty, hormones, nuttiness, mistrust - and I hope to WHATEVER that the foundation my son and I have built over the years will power us through and he won't have to go seeking some loser old dude rolling joints and waxing poetic about Phoenix or Jay Z or whoever it might be to catch the seeds, as it were.

At least, I hope he can ask me about that stuff.

13. If possible, have your shit together before you have the kid

Yeah, that's me talking to myself. The other day I was taking my son to shoot hoops (okay, play basketball) and he said "We've lived in a lot of different places". I stopped dead in my tracks (metaphorically speaking, I was driving) with yet another observation on my kid's part that I was as flawed as I know I am. Of course, that's not his intention or even his thoughts - yet. I have no doubt that he will share his mom stories with someone later in life. Hopefully, he and I will have communicated enough throughout his life so he will not have to spend money on therapy and instead can just share childhood anecdotes with his friends and lovers (how I hate that - please, someone, find a comparable word), but that's likely just rose-colored dreaming on my part. 

As we all know, anyone can have a baby. But...are you prepared? Do you want to give up your life and freedom? Are you ready to sacrifice, lose your perspective, be irrelevant, then wave bye bye and wonder what the f*** it was all for? Like, that's IT??

When my son made that comment the other day, instead of getting defensive or shrugging him off like may have happened to me when I was his age, I looked at him and said, as hard as it was, "You're right. Your dad and I took many years to figure out we weren't right for each other, and you had to pay the price for that. I'm sorry".

My son looked at me, and said "It's okay, I can deal". 

The question is: can I?

12. If your kid is going to Coachella (or any other hipster festival) - STAY HOME

This doesn't apply if you're chaperoning, but if you are, then hang back and stay out of your kid's way. 

There's not much worse for a child than having a parent that parties at the same party. Remember that scene in A Walk on the Moon (probably not as well I do, having seen it at least 5 times) when Anna Paquin's character runs into her mom (played beautifully by Diane Lane) at Woodstock? Her mom was making out with a guy (a "guy"? Viggo!) who wasn't her dad, and she was stoned. Not pretty. Let that be a guide. 

Save that reservation at the Ace hotel for another weekend, a weekend when your business will truly be your business. 

Let your kid be the kid for Coachella. 

11. If you were born before 1985, please refrain from using the following words or phrases:

Yo, Whatup, Word, whassup, niiice, sweet , clean, tight, sick, aight, fresh, crib, kicks, that's so obama, epic, blaze, roll, mad, deep, roll mad deep, skrilla, spit some game at, props, give props, get props, emo, active, beast, the bomb, da bomb, chill, hot, that shit was crazy, that's mad devious, dope, fat, gangsta, 'kward, baked, stripe, khue, rad, ill, holla, dude...