March of the Fathers

Something weird happens to you on the way to the OBGYN. You look at things in a different light. You still hate all the same idiots you hated and love all the food you loved but something changes. It's subtle and overwhelming at the same time. The rush of responsibility actually feels good. I've always felt I could be counted on for support, protection or a friendly ear. I can be loving, mean, affectionate, outgoing and disciplined in one afternoon. Perfect parental material. Then I see a movie like "March of the Penguins" by Luc Jacquet.

First of all, I have to say that I'd listen to Morgan Freeman read George Bush speeches. That's how much I love his voice. The journey of the father penguins could not have been more appropriately narrated by anyone else. There is something warm, sincere, and grandfatherly about Morgan Freeman. He lulls you into his warmth. His narration in Shawshank Redemption is one of the many reasons that film is on my top 10 list of all time.

As an expectant father these penguins put me (and us) to shame. If male humans had to go through what these penguins go through to breed we'd all be gay. Barbara Streisand would be voted President and Judy Garland would replace the Virgin Mary. Hell, if men had to go through what woman endure during pregnancy we'd all suddenly become fabulous.

I spent most of the film wandering "how in the hell do they know to do that?". It's an amazing instinct. I think I'll be OK at changing diapers (once someone shows me how to do it) and I think I'll leave the breast feeding to my wife, but I'll stick with what I know. I'll kill all the spiders, run to Home Depot, make sauce once a month, clean up the dog poo, and love the little creature that is going to waddle into our lives.