Ask Dayton #19 – Dayton’s One Simple Question For Dating His Daughters
If a Star Trek actor were to show up at your house to date your daughter, such as Icheb “that freaky Borg kid from Voyager,” would you kill him or not? If so, by what method? And what would you do with the body?
Yes, this is one of those things dreaded by every father with a daughter. Though mine are young enough that “first dates” are still years away, I can’t imagine my general attitude toward such a blessed event changing between now and then. Come to think of it, I definitely can see my stance becoming more headstrong and extreme the older I get, to say nothing of the older my daughters get.
What does this mean for potential boyfriends? In a word? DOOM.
Now, before we go any farther, I want to be clear on something. While I do believe the character of Icheb is a “freaky Borg kid from Voyager,” I mean no disrespect at all to actor Manu Intiraymi, whom I’ve met a convention or two and therefore know he’s really a pretty cool cat. No fooling. If you get the chance to meet him at a show, do it. He’s one of the nicer con guests on the circuit.
That said, if he…or anyone…tries to date my daughter, I’d have to kill him.
It’s nothing personal, dude. Honest. This is likely to be the fate of pretty much anyone who attempts such a feat, whether they’re a Star Trek celebrity or just one of the idiots with whom my daughters will attend school. It’s probably a damned certainty that the first luckless bastard who decides to nut up and approach my darling offspring with a crush or love or lust in his heart will end up stone cold dead. I’ve often mentioned my plans for that initial would-be suitor, which involve stringing up said Lothario’s body from the tree in my front yard and leaving it as a warning to unwitting passersby. Forget those “eight simple rules for dating my daughter.” I have no rules for you, but I do have a single, simple question: How fast can you run? No, don’t bother answering; it doesn’t matter. I can hit a man-sized target in the head at 500 yards. You can run, but you’ll only die tired, and with blue balls to boot.
Now, let’s assume for a moment that there are other prospective daters out there, hoping to arrive at my domicile with the intention of spiriting away one of my daughters for an evening of frivolous social interaction at one public venue or another. For them to ignore the obvious cautionary tale that is the rotting, maggot-infested corpse of the first boyfriend hanging from the sturdy oak providing shade to my front lawn is—I suppose—a testament to their character. One might consider such a person to be brave, determined, and confident. On the other hand, I wonder if they’re just fucking stupid. Of course, I do honestly entertain the possibility that such a person is so consumed by the feelings he holds for one of my daughters that he’s willing to risk life and limb in order to make her happy. However, I’m almost certain that such a noble, shining example of humanity does not walk around with his pants hanging off his ass. Look, dick; I have a gun, ammo, a shovel, and access to undeveloped land. They won’t even find your DNA in the bear shit.
Yes, I know that, eventually, someone will catch my daughters’ attention and perhaps even capture their hearts. I truly hope that does happen, and that they’re able to forge a lifelong, unfailing bond of love and friendship even stronger than the one I share with my own wife. If and when that does happen, I will be faced with accepting this new person into our lives and even the potential for them ultimately joining our family. By the time we reach that point, this individual will have faced numerous tests and will have been forced to rise to uncounted challenges, and anyone who emerges from that gauntlet will have earned the right to take my daughter’s hand.
But if he tries to get in her pants before any of that shit happens, I won’t hesitate to bust a cap in his ass. Live long and perspire, you little prick.
But, wait. There’s more.
He is the co-owner of Busy Little Beaver Productions and is the producer and co-host for G & T Show and Gates of Sto’vo’kor. He’s directed voice actors, and produced and edited audio podcasts and dramas because he doesn’t have the face for video. He plays well with others and is always on the look out for the next project, the next thing, the next next. If he wasn’t working on something with a half dozen other projects waiting in the wings, somebody please check to make sure he’s still breathing.
During the day, he’s a mild-mannered computer repair man who dabbles in web design in his small, rural, Central California community. He lives with his lovingly dysfunctional family and loyal canine companion and spends most of his time in the closet concocting some hair-brained scheme or another. He’s got an unhealthy obsession with Lego video games, Klingons, and Star Trek Online that borders on the neurotic.
Despite all this, he still finds the time to write the words. Find out what he's doing here.
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