My brother, whose son Caden turns one year old next week (he is an adorable little monster), works as a bouncer at a bar down in NYC. For the purposes of this story, I need to reiterate: this place is a bar, not a bar/restaurant/pub/TGI Friday’s. Bands don’t perform behind chicken wire, but [...]]]>

My brother Jack and nephew Caden

True story.

My brother, whose son Caden turns one year old next week (he is an adorable little monster), works as a bouncer at a bar down in NYC. For the purposes of this story, I need to reiterate: this place is a bar, not a bar/restaurant/pub/TGI Friday’s. Bands don’t perform behind chicken wire, but it’s not a place you’re going to take your grandparents for brunch, either. He was working the night before last. The night was hot, the music was loud, and a crowd of 7 people had baby with them at 9:30pm. My brother made a bold proclamation: no, you cannot bring that tiny little infant into the bar with you.

What a revelation. I didn’t know there were FASCISTS in my family.

The father and the six accompanying him were dumbfounded. None of them could understand or comprehend why this lanky, tattooed, bald Irishman with fierce eyes that bore a striking resemblance to an Upstate sex symbol and Times Union blogger was telling them that they couldn’t bring a baby of all things into abar with them while they got lit up.

The astonishment quickly turned to frustration and debate. The man holding the baby, presumably the father, tried to level with my brother.

“Well it just sucks when you have a baby and you can’t go out with your friends.”

Before he had a baby of his own, my brother probably would have just told him to f*** off, but Jack done gone soft. “I have a baby at home and there’s nothing that sucks about it.”

Meanwhile, 175 miles North of the altercation, I inexplicably threw up in my mouth a little.

"Not letting me in?! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!"

After some more debate, he finally told the argumentative crew that they had to leave. I didn’t ask, but I imagine the baby had a laminated ID that you buy from those little tiny shops in Chinatown that said he was twenty-three years old.

Thing is, though, my brother is spoiled. He has a baby boy that started sleeping through the night fairly early, is a joy to be around, can actually entertain himself, and has a fantastic smile. Also, he and his wife have people that will babysit for them if they need it, not that they ever take advantage of it. They’re too busy being lame-o with their baby and not bringing them out to bar shows so they can get tore up with friends.

A week from Sunday is Caden’s birthday first birthday party. I unfortunately can’t make it down that weekend, as I’m in my busy season at work and I’ve already made arrangements to go down the following weekend after things settle down. So I won’t get to enjoy him blowing out the candles on his first birthday cake. Hopefully I’ll be able to make it up to him the following weekend.

I’m thinking I’ll take him to The Mercury Lounge.

IF YOU’RE DOWN IN NYC, my brother’s band So Hideous, My Love… is having their record release party on Monday, July 25th at the Charleston on Bedford Ave. with Risk and Toaster. Show starts at 8:00pm and is only 7 bucks.

BONUS: Caden’s first steps towards the night life.