Fathers, Dykes to Watch Out For, and Clones

Not much of the traditional fare going on here.  There's a card, and a cake, and there will be some disgustingly delicious ribs, but I did not sit in a hot church for an hour to be reminded what a cool Father Figure we have to worship. (Hint, per bill_sheehan's Sermonette du jour: He ain't all He's cracked up to be.)  I did not receive a tie.  I might have watched the Mets from my living room, except they didn't start playing until 5:00 today.  More below on what we did watch.

Mostly, though, I came to terms with this annual adulation of patriarchy, one which my own memories of Dear old Dad offer me little to join in with.  For years (last year's example is as good as any), I've taken to doing just two things: borrowing the good experiences of friends as my own for the day, and looking at the day as standing for Fathering rather than for Fathered, which finds much better things in it for me.

I got the call from Emily a bit before 11. Mostly it was to wish me a happy day, but it also came with news: Cameron's dad has a connection, who has a connection, and so and so and so, who works for Pixar.  He's going to get her CV and her animation reel looked at out there.  It could lead to Things; and, if it does, Cam has already made clear to her that he wants to be with her for that journey, too.

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There were errands to be run early this afternoon, and I made Barnes and Noble one of the stops, for there was an about-to-expire coupon for extra savings there.  I picked the Birdman DVD as my F-Day present to myself, but that was with an even bigger saving on every DVD in the store. I couldn't find any CDs or books jumping out to use with the other coupon, so I instead went with the soundtrack of this show (Playbill courtesy of friends who saw it in New York today):



The subject is Alison Bechdel, who created and for 25 years drew the mostly biographical alt-paper comic strip "Dykes to Watch Out For," regularly featured in the Funny Times which we've gotten on and off for years. The show, and the 2006 memoir it's based on (the book described at length in this New Yorker piece from 2012), are about her earlier life; in particular, and in her words from the piece, “how my closeted gay dad killed himself a few months after I came out to my parents as a lesbian.”

Don't you just hate when they rework the same old tired Broadway tropes over and over?

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Later in the afternoon, we watched the season finale of Orphan Black. It didn't have the Clone Dance Party moment of such great affirmation as last year's (though it still gave Tat a multi-clone scene near the end to work those chops), but it continued on the Big Reveal of the previous week, that the sestras are, essentially, fatherless.

Like, literally: For we now know that Mrs. S's mum was the source of both the female and male clone's genetic material, a feat achieved by her absorbing the DNA of a male twin while in utero. While it's rather unclear just what relationship that makes her to Sarah and the rest (they're going with "older sister," but there's case to be made for "mum" there as well- I've had Tom Lehrer's "Oedipus Rex" in my head since last weekend), the Final Final scene of the finale made clear that, whatever they are and however they got there, they're Family- and that's what matters.

So it is here:)