First of all, I am aware of the fact that book was built for over-coverage. This is because a highly disproportionate number of journalists and bloggers are 30-something indie-mindset fathers of small children. In other words, we are alternadads. My daughter knows Jonathan Richman and Liz Phair songs (select Liz Phair songs, of course) and identifies them with an “it’s Jonathan!” or “it’s Liz!” She considers a Nick Drake song as “her song” and has listened to no set of music more in her life than a CD I made her featuring the Replacements, Wilco, and Whiskeytown among others. She’ll be three soon. Anyone who’s been around since the handful of “Me and the Bean” columns that are still in a Moodspins archive somewhere knows I went through this “diary of a pop-culture loving dad” thing already. [EDIT: The ever-resourceful Matthew Michaels provides the link.]

That said, here’s the lowdown as fairly as I can paint it despite my life status identification with the author. Single fun loving journalist for an alternative paper in Chicago finds love and reconciles a married life with his indie sensibilities, and so far we’re only a half step past the character of Rob from High Fidelity. Then again, we’re still in the prologue.

From there we have impending and real time parenthood to adjust to. Adjusting comes slowly for our hero. I’m not one to judge parents much since I know there are several paths to the role of compromised fatherhood we all reach. Trade offs will happen. But I will admit that while I find Neal funny and loving in his way, others will see a self-absorbed child trying to raise a playmate. Drugs and anarchy are tough to give up, it seems, once you’ve decided you are a rock star in a journalist’s body.

Neal (and this is a first person account; no obvious attempts have been made to fictionalize this life) takes stabs at purging his cult-hero dreams by quenching them, civic involvement and change via relocation, but in the end — not to give anything away — you wouldn’t call him monumentally changed. He’s just added a love for his son to a lifestyle/mindset that seems firmly entrenched despite the addition of Baby Bjorns and pre-school waiting lists.

If you are looking for a read that other indie-minded people will likely pick up for vacation or beach reading, this is one that will be brought up in casual conversation and is pretty easy to get through. If your looking for a view into parenthood for future or present comparison, there are some laugh out loud moments that are only deepened by self-identification. If you are looking for the meaning of life, this is not your book. I haven’t found that book yet (sorry, fans of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy).

Five questions for discussion:

What examples of contradiction regarding anarchy mark Neal’s parenting style?

What forces are at play in the discussion about Elijah’s circumcision?

What responsibility do parents have to expose their children to the opportunities of a city vs. the relative safety of the suburbs or country?

Does being indie imply rejecting generic pop culture? Can you “get” the Sex Pistols as a three year old?

How would you rate Neal as a husband?

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Last 5 posts by Greg Wind

• Me And The Bean: Heroes - August 22nd, 2004
• Me And The Bean: I’m Only Sleeping - July 11th, 2004
• Me And The Bean: Even Better Than The Real Thing - June 27th, 2004
• Me And The Bean: Lost In The Supermarket - June 21st, 2004