Dear PR/Marketing People Sending Me Pitches for Father’s Day, Etc.

Let me help you. Please.

I had your job before, making cold calls and email pitches. It sucks. Allow me to make your life easier.

Unless you are offering to pay me a decent wage (see #SwifferDads campaign) to write about your product or brand, or you are offering to give me a pricey and/or sexy product (think Bluetooth headphones, flat-screen TVs, sports cars, lots and lots of tasty alcohol, etc.), just save yourself the time and effort.

I have no interest in running your high-res photos of celebrity dads giving their kids BPA-free high colonics.

Rite of Spring – The Big Dance Recital

Front and center in 2011

This past weekend was the Perfect Storm of Uncool events: my birthday (not one of note, though my increasingly creaky back says otherwise), Mother’s Day and Li’l Diva’s annual dance recital. I write about the latter in this piece, which first appeared a year ago in Stamford Magazine.

It’s the heart of spring, a special time with weather warming, flora blooming and vacations approaching that ignited me so as a child but as an adult reduces me to ash.

Field trips to Cove Island, to Dorothy Heroy Park and – gasp – to “The City.” School concerts. School plays. Daily rehearsals for said concerts and plays. Little League practices. Little League games. Going back to the Little League field to retrieve a jacket left in the dugout. Funny how perspective changes when you go from kid to your kids’ chauffeur.