Most people who know me well can attest that, at least on the surface, I’m not particularly emotional or sentimental about most things. It’s not that I’m not emotional at all, it’s just that I tend to be more subtle about it. I also tend to avoid romanticizing things, prefering to remember things as they are (were?), with both positive and negative aspects (since both are valuable), rather than viewing the past through rose-colored glasses, or whatever the opposite of that is (according to this, it’d be glasses in some shade of green, which adds all kinds of levels to the Wizard of Oz, doesn’t it?). Because it bothers me so much when other people do that, I really try to avoid doing so myself.

These tendencies also carry into my taste in “art”; I’m not a big fan of ham-handed emotional appeals in music or storytelling; I just feel it’s trying to manipulate me. For example, I feel personally offended by that obnoxiously cloying “Butterfly Kisses” song. I have a hard time believing that that’s anybody’s real experience of parenthood ,and if someone legitimately believes it is, they need to take off those pink goggles. It’s a calculated piece of tripe designed to fill some sentimentally-imagined void in some people’s lives, nothing more. As a vehicle to get the money of every DJ service in the english speaking world (since the wedding industrial complex insists that it gets played during the father-daughter dance at every proper wedding reception), it’s admirable; but as art, it’s so bad it hurts.

Since you’re now asking “well, what do you suggest, Mr. Stoic Jackass?”, I humbly offer the suggestion that you’re welcome to enjoy all the Bob Carlisle records you like, but don’t be offended when I tell you it’s simply not my thing, and I don’t appreciate your suggestion that this means there’s something wrong with me.

I do, however, know of a particular tune that fills the “parents’ experience of parenthood” niche that manages to extoll the joy of being a parent, while not shying away from the stress involved. It’s realistic and still kinda sweet, which is pretty much kind of like life.

I give you You Ruined Everything by Jonathan Coulton.

This tune, written by a newly-minted father, seems to get to a lot of the core emotions that real parents feel upon reproducing, both good and “oh shit!”, that comes with the realization that the life they knew before kids is gone, and it’s not coming back. Coulton celebrates the new possibilities of parenthood, while at the same time mourning the loss of life before.

It’s the first time I’ve encountered an honest, poetic and eloquent description of that feeling that’s equal parts “wow, this is amazing!” and “oh god, what have I done!” that I’m sure anyone who’s in any way self-aware feels when they become parents. It’s real, and it’s beautiful, and it’s one of those things that, for whatever reason, hits me in the emotional place that so many other things miss.

If either of my daughters decides to throw in with the big, traditional wedding (not that I’d recommend it), they could do worse than scoring the obligatory father-daughter dance with this.