It's a Dad's Life/Adam Brophy:Some writers get to go to Hollywood and rifle through the stars' goody bags before Oscar night. I, due to also being involved in the glam-sham media world, am lucky enough to find the occasional invite to a Pampers-sponsored event in my inbox. Up to now I have resisted, but my resolve is weakening.
I fantasise about being the Colin Farrell of that world. Much as the one-eyed man is king in the land of
the blind, perhaps, armed with my fatherly insights and witty parental repartee, I could be desired in the domain of the nappy-dependent scrummy mummy.
It is this wistful daydream that prevents me from firing a snarly response back to the Pampers' PR exec, outlining every glamorous personal detail that should have her peers from the MTV Music Awards to the Frankfurt Motor Show lining up to drag me along to their events.
But my "glamour list" is surprisingly short - well it has one entry, that I live two doors away from a film director of some note. So I calm myself, get some Zen and once again accept my role as Daddy. Or "The Daddy" as I like to put it. Note to editor: possible column name change to "The Daddy's Manor", eh? Give me that at least.
The simple fact of the matter is that everyone says "stick to what you know", and I know nappies. The kids are beyond them now, oh thank you unstoppable march of time, but if you want insights on the merits of pull-ups against fasteners, recyclables (just don't do it, let the world go to hell in a handcart first) against super-bleached hydrogen peroxide bum bathers, I'm still your man.
Being an expert in this field may never result in a GQ photoshoot but it still means being an expert in a field. Here, I am reminded of the response given by the circus hand responsible for mucking out the elephants' cage every morning to the possibility of finding a new job: "What? And leave show business?" You can never turn your back on the glamour.
I also know a little bit about PR as it is how the missus earns her keep.
Her genius is in getting every client she has to believe that, yes, whatever they're peddling should and will be the hot topic in every media channel every other day.
She believes it herself, sometimes against her better judgement, because she has to. But even she might struggle to maintain the best side out if she were to spend her days raising specific diaper brand awareness.
As a result, the Pampers PR person gets my sympathy vote. PR people are invariably highly educated, gilt-edged, swish and chic, about 28, spend way above what they earn, and share an innate desire to avoid breeding at all costs. They are also always female. Don't ever accuse me of stereotyping - I have no preconceptions.
Thus, her promoting the benefits of Pampers must be akin to my banging a drum for push-up bras. Okay, bad example, I can see the positives there. It would be like promoting tourism in Longford, or encouraging people to take up the uilleann pipes; admirable pursuits but destined to failure.
The kids of course have no idea of the many and varied doors they have opened for me. In all my concern at not being appreciated enough, I completely forgot that I was also once invited to Trabolgan Holiday Village on the back of this column.
That invite is firmly tucked in the back pocket, to be used only in case of emergency, like forgetting a birthday, or an anniversary, or maybe that I'm married and have children.
The Oscars? Sure why would you bother?
abrophy@irish-times.ie
