The first 21 years of my adult life were spent seeking adventure. I skipped college, roadtripped all around the country, slept in each of the Continental United States, then hooked up with a rock ‘n roll band and did it all again under much more decadent circumstances, looking for shenanigans wherever shenanigans could be found. I met my wife during this period, but then she graduated college and moved to NYC to be an actress. I followed a year later and found a whole new type of shenanigans available in the 90s in Manhattan.
I was managing bands, she was acting in the craziest damn plays you’d ever want to see downtown. My crowd was wild, hers was more eccentric, and both seemed to frequently stay up all night. I don’t think we spent more than a handful of evenings at home in the whole decade.
Laurena and I had been together 16 years when she said: “Why go to Disneyland and not ride the Matterhorn?” It was her way of saying that having a kid is the big ride in life, and we should try it. I agreed, even though I hardly comprehended what I was really agreeing to.
Our son Dexter was born in 2002, and ever since I find myself doing things I never would have even thought about in the 90s or before. I’m not a sports guy, but I go to baseball and basketball games. I’ve given up red meat; I took a fencing class; I’ve been to more art museums in the last ten years than my whole life prior. I play Risk and Monopoly often and poker rarely. I spend most evenings at home and get up at 6am to pack a vegetarian lunch. I remember when the only time I saw 6am was leaving an all-night poker game or a particularly eventful party. I have two road trips planned for this summer: One to Indianapolis for the Pokémon National Championships and one to Washington, D.C., for the Pokémon World Championships. I do this all because my best friend is a 12-year-old vegetarian Poké-Master who likes basketball, baseball, fencing, art, board games, comic books, and—of course—the Pokémon card game.
As soon as Dexter entered our lives I found myself wanting to be at home, because it was more fun than anything else I could do—and, actually, easier than I expected. I was getting more sleep than ever because I was in the apartment before midnight. (Who knew if you layed down at 9pm you would fall asleep?) And, trust me on this, compared to managing rock bands, a baby is easy.
Having only one child means we can indulge his interests.(Some would say we spoil the boy, but I would say it is me being spoiled by the quality time with him.) Yes, I was surprised when his love of animals inspired him to become vegetarian when he was 8. But “no killing” is his policy, which means no leather baseball gloves and it means visits to the vegan marshmallow factory in Long IslandCity. He surprises us with facts everyday, and most of the time when I ask where he learned it he says: “NPR.” (As he is a regular listener of “Radio Lab” and “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me” as he goes to sleep at night.)
Luckily for me he also loves superheroes and classic music. He is a fan of Tom Waits and Tom Jones. Elvis is both our favorite. I get to impress him regularly with arcane facts about the Hulk and Metamorpho. Plus, when this clever, stubborn, opinionated, argumentative kid starts to embrace the dark side, taking away comic book privileges is an effective motivation to bring him back to the light.
I remember being in the park with Dexter when he was about four and he was playing in the playground and another Dad said to me: “Sometimes I just run out of things to do with him or say to him.” I believe he expected me to say: “I know what you mean,” but I really did not. I love hanging out with Dexter. He used to laugh at my joke about how I was going to finally go to college the same year he did, and we could be dormmates. He quit thinking it was funny when he realized I wasn’t joking.
Scott Ambrose Reilly is known in the music business as “Bullethead” but is known at Pokémon tournaments and baseball games as “Dexter’s Dad.”
