Dad versus the Internet Five

Wait . . . Dad?

MmmHmm?

Is it really only gonna take you two days to read 'Divergent'

Probably.

So you could read it this weekend?

Maybe. I mean I do have other things to do.

Like what?

Like feed you and watch football.

Oh.

And then there's a video that I want to finish, and another book that I want to finish and well . . . your mom.

So how long before you finish 'Divergent' ?

Two days.

Actually, I have no idea how long it's gonna take me to finish it. It looks like a thick book, but the pages are small and the lettering is big, so maybe not even that. I remember how agog I was when I saw my mom read one of my chidlhood chapter books in less than a day. It must be a gentetic thing.

But the reason it weighs heavily on my mind is that with all this new fangled conceptual homework he has to do now, I find that if I'm not concentrating, I'm starting to lose my status as the bastion of higher learning. I've already lost the video game wars, but he still gleams with pride when he tells his friends that his dad is a writer, the same way I felt telling kids that my mom built buildings and my dad played music.

Cool jobs must also be genetic.

I also see that as far as learning new things go, I am still the go-to encyclopedia for all things esoteric, but I'm losing the war to practical things that can be found on YouTube.

Yet . . . 

I have no intention of letting Google dominate me, I am a better 'friend' than Facebook, I'm cooler than instagram, and my garage has more insteresting stuff than Craiglist.

So here are the top five reasons why I - Dad - am better than the internet:

1. I know the lyrics to all the songs.
They're not always the right lyrics, but I know them.

2. I can answer any question.
Never will you find me without an answer. That answer might be a lie, but you can totally guess that by the way I squint my eyes and smile at you sideways. There is no such transperancy with The Huffington Post.

3. I can actually build stuff.
Sure you can go ahead and YouTube beginner instructions, hell they'll even provide links to places you can get tools. But I already have tools, and the internet is never gonna remind you to cut away from your body, or say something as uplifting as "Good enough. And don't worry, you're mother will never notice."

Did I mention my mom used to build buildings?

What did the internet's mother used to do?

Hmm?

4. I know nothing about California Missions, but I can drive you to one.
I'll even buy you a hamburger along the way.

5. The internet can't even snack plate.
Late in the evening, when the moms have gone to bed, and the house is quiet except for the gentle turning of the pages of 'Divergent' Who else is going to get up from the couch and cut you some crispy apple slices with cheese and salami?

No one that's who.

The internet may be a vast wonderful Disneyland, and yes, maybe it can tell you how babies are made, but it's never going to tell you why we are here in the first place, and it's never going to satiate that mild  hunger you have after you've heard the answer.

 Oh . . . and hugs . . . lots and lots of hugs.

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