Saturday Dad Reads Week of May 17

Welcome to this week’s edition! Here’s what we’ve got lined up

• 📕 This week’s Book Summary and Review: Clown in a Cornfield

• 🧑‍🦰 Author Bio: Adam Cesare

• 💣️ Dad’s Knowledge Bomb: Clown School

• 🎮️ This week’s Dad Rant: Pay for Play Video Games

🤡 Summary

📕 Review 

Clown in a Cornfield is what you get when you take Children of the Corn and reverse all of the roles and swap out a messianic cult for that of a cult based around a non-existent industrial mascot. Instead of kids killing off all of the adults to take direction from Issac and Malachi and serve “He Who Walks Behind the Rows,” the adults in Kettle Springs are bent on killing off the town’s young people in the name of Frendo and the hope of a return to the “good ‘ole days.” In this comparison alone, Adam Cesare delivers on all levels of creepiness and “slasher-ness” with this one.

In blood soaked scene after blood soaked scene, Cesare explores what happens when the “Boomers” really act on their deepest, most intrusive thoughts related to Gen Z: “How much better would it be here without those damn kids and their Tik Toks?” In this case, the Boomers decide to kill the kids off first and ask questions later. At first, I thought this had the potential to be kind of kitschy and played out, but the way Cesare draws out suspense and drops twists on the reader makes this work. The adults aren’t just the stereotypical “old man screaming at a cloud.” They’re cold, calculating murderers. They’re tired of the endless “going live” and posting content for clicks. They’re tired of the pranks and have decided to do something about it. What I guess is even more terrifying when you think about it is that Cesare has managed to play upon the very deep seated fear of “who watches the watchers” and what happens when those charged with protecting our young people decide they no longer have their safety and best interests at heart.

To note, I would have to give Clown in a Cornfield entrance into the emergent “Dad Lit” genre. The awkwardness of the relationship between Quinn and her father, Dr. Maybrook really hits home for me. I’d like to think that if, God forbid, it were ever just me and my 4 kids that my relationship with my 3 daughters wouldn’t be as awkward as theirs. I mean, I can at least do a pony tail and low key speak their language. No cap. The relationship dynamic further hits home in Dr. Maybrook's protective concern for Quinn while she's out with new friends in an unfamiliar place (though this worry seems somewhat misplaced given her upbringing in urban Philadelphia). The emergence of Dr. Maybrook's 'Papa Bear' persona late in the book particularly struck a chord with me. I can deeply relate to that instinct to fiercely protect one's children at all costs. If you mess with my kids, I will destroy you.

Overall, this was a blast to read and I’m definitely going to catch the movie that’s out now!

Rating: ☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️

🧑‍🦰 Author Spotlight: Adam Cesare

💣️ Dad’s Knowledge Bombs:

“So, you got accepted to Clown College? Your parents must be thrilled.”

I like clowns when they are confined to the pages of a novel or inside a screen. Frendo, in Clown in a Cornfield, Pennywise in Stephen King’s It, Crazy Joe Davola dressed up as Pagliacci in an episode of Seinfeld. However, when it comes to having to see and interact with one in real life, forget about it. As a 6 year old, I was scarred for my life when my well-meaning mother ordered a clown to come to my birthday party. I remember hearing a warbling voice say, “Is someone here having a birthday?,” and then turning around to see this asshole clown named Bowowser pedaling down the patio on a bike that was meant for me. I bolted into the house, but did eventually sit through the his clown act although it was well away from his creepy ass.

Given that context, I cannot, to this day, fathom what kind of self-respecting, sane individual would decide to embark on the career path of a clown. Which was why I was even more astonished to find out that people don’t just choose to be a clown as a profession, but they also can choose to further their education in the fine-arts of clowning.

In doing some research for this section (i.e. random Google searches and watching a few odd YouTube videos), I came across an interview with former Jackass star, Steve-O. In the interview, Steve-O describes how he attempted to get into the Ringling Brothers Barnum and Baily Circus Clown School. In the interview, Steve-O mentions that he was denied entry to the school because, surprisingly, it is highly selective. In fact, it might even be more selective and difficult to get into than some Ivy League schools with an acceptance rating right around 1%. As the “head clown” in the Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey circus would put it in a clown school informational video I found that had to be from the late 1970s: “So few people have the talents that we’re looking for.”

Ah, yes. The rigors of Clown School. I’m sure the Common Core would have a field day with the content and skill standards for the courses there which involve how to dress as a clown, how to fall on your face/back correctly, how to ride animals, pyrotechnics, and a number of other assorted topics on slapstick humor. If you’re work hard, pass your classes and are good enough, you get to join the circus. Literally.

Now, I fully respect that clowning and clowns have been a part of human societies for centuries dating back to ancient court jesters and those of the like. In Native American societies, clowns were thought to possess sacred knowledge and have healing capabilities. In reality, they didn’t really know how to heal people, they just knew how to make people feel better through humor. In recent decades, the psychological community has tapped into clowning as a form of “drama therapy” designed to help people see the world in a more humorous and light-hearted fashion.

However, I’m still not buying it. I can’t get down with the fact that this is a legitimate career option and lifelong dream for some people. As an aspiring clown noted in terms of her acceptance to clown college in the aforementioned late 70s video: “I’ll keep trying until I make it or until I die because that’s my dream to be a clown.” To each their own, I guess. At least its not OnlyFans.

🎮️ Dad Rant: Pay to Play Video Games

My son plays Fortnite regularly and surprisingly enough, he’s pretty good at it for a kindergartener. He’s won a decent share of “Battle Royales” and I’ve been just as shocked as he’s been each time he’s won. As his prowess and interest in the game has grown, so has his desire to purchase things from the ever-changing and ever-expanding library of gear you can purchase in the in-game store to customize your character. Every day he harasses me to buy him “V-Bucks” so he can buy a new “skin” (a different character) or unlock some sort of “celebration move.” Hold the phone. What happened to being able earn things like this inside of the game? What happened to mashing a perfect button combo to celebrate your victory (“Fatalities,” “Animalities”, and “Friendships” in Mortal Kombat anyone?)?

Now, I get it. If I’m trying to maximize profit from a game because I have to turn around and release another installment within the next few months, the in-game purchases make sense. It’s another revenue stream to prep for the next release that from my perspective, takes minimal overhead to maintain and keeps people interested in the game beyond what they might be otherwise. It also appeals to the instant gratification that we so desire anymore. Why play through a bunch of levels to earn something or go on some side-quest to find it when I can just buy the things and have it already?

Watching my son buy characters in Fortnite makes me nostalgic for the video game experience of the past. In his impressionable young mind, you don’t play and play and play to unlock a costume or weapon or vehicle or character. You just ask dad for “V-Bucks” and you buy it. Because of the experiences he’s had so far playing video games, he’ll have a difficult time appreciating how a well-designed video game keeps giving you that little shot of dopamine to keep going when you find that the princess is in another castle. He’ll never appreciate what it was like to collect all of the stars in Super Mario 64 just for a shot at being able to jump up on the roof of Princess Peach’s Castle in hopes of catching a glimpse of Yoshi. He’ll never know the thrill of finding that last hidden package in Grand Theft Auto III to complete the game 100%. He’ll never get hooked on virtual poker and play endless hands of it in Red Dead Redemption to try to unlock the gambler costume. Those days of video gaming are gone and I don’t think they’re coming back anytime soon, no matter how well-designed new games are.

All is not lost, though. Once my son starts to be able to read more fluently, I have a few cards up my sleeve. He’s only watched me play a handful of games that are truly great. He’s yet to have the transformative experience of actually playing them for the first time. We’ll see. Maybe we can wean him off of pay to play, yet.