Saturday, June 23, 2007

Saturday, June 16, 2007

“ Hurry Up There, Little Buddy ” – What My Dad Means To Me

My Dad, Joseph J. Ozanic, Jr., is truly one of the most remarkable and wisest fathers that our Creator every gave to a daughter. I am blessed to be the oldest of eight children raised in the small town of Mount Olive, Illinois. My Dad is a journeyman machinist who drove to McDonnell-Douglas every day for thirty years. It was a three-hour round-trip drive in a carpool, but he wanted to raise his family in a small town. Even though we had very little money as children, we never felt that we ever lacked for any material thing. Perhaps it was because our Dad filled our lives with joy, fun and love instead. For my 13th birthday, my Dad bought me a horse for $100. It was a lot of money to our family back then and I am still not sure how he managed it, but that was how much he loves me .. his little “Memee” as he called me. A live, living, breathing horse named Buck. How many kids hold a memory this special from their childhood? Our home sat on three acres and every night, already exhausted from a full day of work, Dad would dig a few postholes for the fence. He dug every single posthole by hand with a manual posthole-digger … his poor hands, burning with blisters even through his gloves. I will forever be grateful for what he did for me. There is no material gift that could repay this act of unconditional love for me. Stemming from his own quiet nature, Dad taught me what the blessing of unconditional love truly means and how to find it everywhere in our everyday lives. Dad taught me to have respect for all living things and how to nurture and protect the natural environment that we all share ... and to love the Creator that gave it all to us.

Our summer vacations each year were camping trips to southern Illinois where we learned the simplest things like leaving the wildflowers and the rocks for the next person to enjoy rather than picking them to serve as unnecessary souvenirs. He taught us that our experiences will always live vividly and alive in our minds. The gentlest of men, one afternoon as an adult I was riding in the car with my dad driving. A squirrel darted into the middle of the street and stopped, frozen and afraid. Dad, slowly braked the car and speaking aloud to himself and to the squirrel, said, “Hurry up there, little buddy.” The squirrel safely darted across the road and Dad continued his conversation with me. I didn’t mention to him what I had just observed, but my eyes filled with tears at how much this small act said about him. I reflected and remembered what this kind soul has done for each of his sons and daughters over the years and how truly blessed I am to call this man, My Dad.

Dads Keep Doing More!

We have taken on the arduous task of painting our own house. With paint sprayer and 40’ ladders and scaffolding rented, lugged and strategically placed, my husband has labored. One of the things I have appreciated is how he has made the world of machines more accessible to my children. They have learned how to work a paint sprayer, steady a ladder, set up scaffolding. My sons have a mowing business that would be out of business if it weren’t for their dad teaching them how to repair the various parts that break down. These mysteries are now comprehensible to them in a way that will help them be more effective men and women than they would be without it. I am so grateful for that.

I could praise my husband for many more things, such as his spiritual leadership, and his excellence as a cook, and his sense of humor, etc.



I recall going to baseball games and having great times. Encouragements to church attendance were worse than pushing a heavy object uphill. I wonder if words spoken there, scripture and example will count in later years. The main thing as a father I did, was to "stick with it" when giving up seemed far easier. Even now, the desire for communication is mostly one way. Yet, I think the kids all knew they were loved.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Regarding Berkely Breathed

Some interesting tidbits of info from my readers:

Little known fact about Breathed: many years ago, about the time he graduated from UT, he pled No Contest to a charge of releasing baby alligators into Town Lake (the Colorado River that runs through Austin).

A wildlife biologist snarked that all Breathed did was to feed the turtles.



Yes, Breathed was a lot more fun when he was writing The Academia Waltz for UT Austin. I used to read it every day; I even bought one of his books. I know he moved from there to California - wasn't it San Francisco? Anyway, it's really too bad - he has actual talent. Austin, Texas was a veritable island of ultra-liberal/radical politics when the rest of Texas was solidly conservative back in the late '70s (and, of course, in the '60s). I guess one can't develop as a young adult in such an environment, then move to ?San Francisco? and be rational. Tsk.
(It took me quite a few years to figure it out myself - I stayed in Austin.)

Maybe he doesn't include himself in the man-hatred he evinces. Maybe he thinks that only certain types of men are so terribly despicable - and, of course, HE isn't like that. Who knows? I'm really very disappointed in him.

I'll sign up for anti-Male-Bashing. My husband is country, conservative, worked in a factory most of his adult life, retired, loves football, hunting, and fishing, has great kids, and is a wonderful grandpa and husband. His brothers are the same.

I'm a physician. Most of the docs I know are men, fine men, who just want to help people through their work, who have families whom they love and try very hard to spend time with. It's often difficult for them, because the ethical commitment that their work requires interferes with their family life. Um, exactly where do they fit in with Breathed's (and most man-haters') concepts?

Dads Do Even More!

When I was in college, it was legal in Kansas to drink beer. As my friends and I would go to our favorite college watering holes, we would sometimes try to sneak out with a beer glass or pitcher. Sometimes the bouncers would catch us and sometimes we they wouldn't. When caught, we received a verbal lashing but never got into serious trouble. We thought it was nothing more than a game of cat and mouse.

One day, I was with my dad and some other men at a small town tavern. As we left, dad was talking with some of the other men and I found it extremely easy to walk out with a beer glass. I laughed and showed it to my dad as we were walking to our car. He found nothing funny about it and made it clear that I was stealing. I immediately returned the glass to the tavern and walked out with my tail between my legs. I suddenly saw my actions as something other than a game and never attempted it again, at a college bar or anywhere else.



First off, thanks for stating the obvious (but politically incorrect)that Dads do care, do matter and want to be involved with their kids. You honor us all when you honor fathers. I feel the same way about mothers.

Today, I:

1. Took my kids to church, with my wife.
2. Visited with friends afterward- with my kids.
3. Placed flowers at a friend's grave-site with my wife, and kids.
4. Ran around the block with them, and our dog. (My wife stayed home.)
5. Encouraged them when they got tired while running, scolded them when they tried to take an unnecessary potty break during church, and hugged them for no good reason at all. I love my girls and they know it.

Later tonight I will read to them before going to bed and praying with them as a family with my wife. Even the cat joins in.

I have told them repeatedly that they can do anything a man can do, except being a father. Why? Because it's the truth, and I will share no less with them. What's more important than anything I do with or for them, is just being here for them though it all- the vacation trips, the arguments with the wife (the making up, too), report cards, the whole nine yards. I thank God I have a chance to have these human beings "on loan" for awhile, and I hope I do my best to set a good example for them
while I can.



Everything. Our son is 5.

I'm there for him every day.

I get him up and take him to pre-school.

I stay up with him at night.

Today was Memorial Day, and like many weekend days, my wife had to work. I helped him get dressed, made us lunch, we played in the sprinklers, fought a light saber duel, played baseball, went to the mall, shopped for a toy, played video games, and cleaned the living room. I also did some laundry and a bit of dishes.

Yes, my wife does most of these things too, but I'm there every day for my son.



What Dads Do: Love the mothers of their kids and provide a beautiful picture of that to their sons. Today while walking my 2 1/2 year old son to the park, I stopped and picked up an orange eucalyptus flower that had fallen from the tree above us. I explained what it was to my son and he wanted to hold it. We also picked up some eucalyptus pods--he held those too. Then when we arrived at the park, my son gave the flower to the first girl he saw. You should have seen the grin on both their faces! He had seen his daddy give flowers to me and was doing it in turn. What a beautiful picture for many reasons--most importantly is the reminder that little boys learn to treat women in part by the way their father treats their mother.



My father always (and to this day) encouraged us to treat other’s fairly, and to repair any relationships that became fractured.

He would never hesitate to give us a ride to a friend’s house, the park, or the local swimming pool, and would wait patiently in the car with his reading material while we played with our friends.

Although a lawyer earning a high hourly rate, he always drove inexpensive automobiles and washed them on Saturdays. This, to me, was a great example of modesty and an attitude of gratitude.

When my mother required a wheelchair, this man who loved to spend endless hours reading and serving clients became a caregiver of impeccable patience and tenderness.

This is a man who moved us all from New York to Phoenix in the 70’s (New York wasn’t a great place to be back then), with only a few contacts and no clients, simply to give his kids a better life.

His lessons continue to resound in my life.



My parents didn't have the best marriage but at least my mom left my dad after me and my sister were out of the house and married. My mother has many emotional and physiological problems that she doesn't want to face. She lashed out at us a few times. But my Dad was the rock in our family. He showed us by his example how to trust God through all the difficulties in life. He taught us to turn to God no matter how big or small our problems were. My Dad is a very calm and even-tempered man. I don't remember him ever yelling at us. He did spank us but he always did it after talking to us and telling us exactly why he had to do it. My Dad is very humble as well. He thinks he didn't do a very good job of raising us but I think he did a great job. He showed us love, compassion, patience, how to be humble and how to trust the Lord.

More of What Dads Do

Thanks for giving me an opportunity to pitch in my two cents . . .

I view my relationship with my daughter as a balance in her life - maintaining the yin and yang (female and male) balance.

My daughter is 13 years old; her mother and I have been separated/divorced for 6 years. These are some reasons that I think it is important that my daughter spend time with me:

- Her mother is sedentary. I am active - some things I do with my daughter that her mother doesn't do:
Take her to church on my weekends (every other weekend)
Enroll her in Sunday school/Confirmation classes
Take her to many different public activities (even to the extent of her being interviewed on camera for the local news)
Enroll her Writing classes that she wanted to attend

- I'm also re-married and her Mom isn't - this isn't a judgment on whether or not she should be married since it's up to her, but because of that, my daughter is exposed to a family setting in the house and sees how a man/husband should treat a woman/wife (and vice versa). This is modeling for my daughter.

- My daughter sees me bicycle to and/or from work (25 miles each way). As she matures and reaches middle-age (I'm 48, myself), she'll know that an adult can be active throughout their life (I laugh when her friends call me "Old Lance"!)

- I teach her to use tools and do other tasks around the house (upgrading TV equipment, mowing the lawn, assembling miscellaneous items)

- Ultimately, I want her to know how the man in her life should treat her - I want her to know that she should be treated at least as well as I treat the women in my life.


Here are some examples of what I do:

1) I have lunch with my daughter at her school at least once a month and spend at least two full days at my daughter's school interacting with her, her school mates and the school staff. Even though I pay child support and pay 100% of the cost at my home for myself and my daughter, I believe it is important to take time off of work to spend with my daughter at her school.

2) I have chosen to remain single and date rarely, so I can portray to my daughter that she is number one in my life.

3) I have contacted the school when I have considered another child's (unfortunately boys) behavior toward my daughter to be abusive: swearing, threats or hitting. I have only done this twice in four years. I know kids can belittle each other, so when she complains to me, I weigh what she is saying carefully.

4) I have confronted boys in my neighborhood when they have made derogatory comments to my daughter or flipped her off.

5) I have been up early in the morning tending to my daughter when she has been sick.

6) I schedule my vacation time from work to coincide with the additional time that I get to have with my daughter during the summer and winter breaks from school, so we can be together and go swimming, camping, skiing, etc.

7) I help and/or review my daughter's homework when I have her on a school night, and I have her read to me.

These are just several examples. I can add more if you would like.


I am not a doofus dad, and I'm tired of seeing this bullshit in the media. I'd love to submit a story about how I've taught my five-year-old daughter how to ride a skateboard, and how she brags about it to all her friends in her kindergarten class. She also tells everyone about all my tools (really, just a small kit of craftsman hand tools) and how I fix her bike, skateboard, etc.

This is the same daughter who was ripped from me for 26 days in September, 2002, when she was an infant, because her mother and I had an argument related to my being unemployed back then. As a result, and in spite of there being no actual violence committed, I was thrown out of my home, arrested, fingerprinted, photographed, and lectured by the municipal court judge. Naturally, the "domestic violence" TRO was rubber-stamped. My crime? "Terroristic Threats."

Of course, now that I'm back to making $70k, and paying for my daughter's private school as well as health insurance for the three of us, I'm OK again.


I'm a grandmother in TX. I recently came across your site while searching for help for my son who has been devastated by the biased, corrupt judicial and family court systems in TX for the past 4 years. I know of at least 52 men that have also been
discriminated against in our area (San Antonio. All caring fathers that have
been alienated from their children by a biased, corrupt system).

My son was falsely accused of domestic violence by his wife in 2003. She was
mad at him for trying to stop her from spending all their money on meth and
cocaine again. She rubbed her neck and made red marks, and when the officer
arrived he asked, "What happened to your neck, did he try to strangle you?"
She said "Yes, he tried to strangle me" which was a blatant lie.
That was the beginning of a nightmare that seems like it will never be over.

My son was pressured to accept a guilty plea and was given a year probation
and other things. He filed for divorce and his son and step-son (her son
from a previous boyfriend) went with him to our home. She was too involved
with drinking, doing drugs and sleeping with other men to care about them.

Things were OK until a couple of months later when she attacked him while
high on drugs, trying to bash his brains in, knocking his glasses off and
mangling them. He was nearly knocked out and all he saw was stars, and
reflexively threw his arm up to block another blow, accidentally making
contact with her while she was coming in for another attack. He connected
with her totally by accident while nearly unconscious- all he saw was stars.

When the police arrived they ignored his injuries and arrested him. He tried
to ask them why he was being arrested when she was the one that attacked
him, and was told "It's not up for debate so be quiet." They only took her
statement, which was lies, and refused to even take a statement from him,
assuming he was guilty automatically because he's male.

A few months later (while my son was in jail and the children were still
living with us while she continued to party) a women's violence place here
told her they would give her cash and other benefits if she would claim she
"feared for her life" and get a restraining order, so she did. They paid her
to lie! When it was produced for my son to sign he explicitly asked if it
would affect his rights to his son, and was told it would not but was only
to stay away from her, which was another blatant lie.
This organization was the same one that was contacted previously by my son
asking for help with the violence and drug use by his wife. They told him
they don't have any help for men except as an abuser.. They told him if a
male comes in there looking for help as the abused, they tell him to leave
immediately, they can't help him. We soon found out there isn't a single
place for males to get help with an abusive female in their lives. All
programs are only for women and against men. It was surprising considering
at least one-third of abuse victims are men.

The protective order took everyone from these children's lives, their father
as well as us grandparents who were caring for them while she partied. She
was not interested in caring for them and was not even capable of caring for
them, but that didn't matter to the biased, corrupt system. When we had to
deliver them to her my little 3-year-old grandson ran down the center of the
street crying and screaming for us and there was nothing at all we could do.
I cry still when I think of the pain he felt. His mother didn't even have
the wits about her to comfort him but just walked away. We stopped of course
and comforted him and then had to hand him to one of the men she was with.
The system killed us all that day.

We learned a few days later that she had left them with a heroin addict. We
tried to get help from CPS but were told she can leave them with whoever she
wants since she's their mother. We told them of other abuse and neglect we
knew of. A few weeks later we contacted them again and asked them if they
were investigating. They informed us that she had moved so they could do
nothing. We learned later that the women's organization had financed her
move to another state, so that CPS could not investigate her. We didn't even
know where they were for over a year.

The laws pertaining to domestic violence assault accusations are bizarre and
confusing to say the least. There seems to be no time limitations on how
many times the one charge can be brought into court, or the number of
warrants and bonds issued, where the accused doesn't even know about it
until he's arrested again.
My son has been through court settings 3 different times in two different
courtrooms, and it has been dismissed 3 times, only to be brought back and
started all over again. He didn't hear anything for nearly two years and
then it was back again, right when he was making some headway in getting
some rights to his son. There has now been 4 separate warrants and 4 bonds
paid, and numerous court dates in different courtrooms on this one charge
over the past 4 years.

He has not been allowed to have contact with his child for over 4 years,
except for 5 months when he had temporary custody when the mother abandoned
their son. He did great with his father and was happy, healthy and very well
cared for.
The mother regained sole custody as soon as the women's organization went
back to court with her claiming my son was allegedly violent. This
organization took up her cause to get what she wants at any cost to my
grandson and everyone else. They provide free attorneys and all expenses
paid for, while my son has to pay all his own expenses. My son has fought
for parental rights in family court but has none. The judge once even told
him he was too obsessed with seeing his son. It has taken everything we all
have, financially and emotionally, but he still has no rights at all. He's
always been a loving father and there's no sane reason his child should
ever have been kept from him.

We also learned the biased family court judge that refused him rights,
regularly participated in fund raisers for the organization that provided
her pro bono attorneys and all expenses. In return the organization donates
thousands back to the judge's re-election in order to keep an anti-father
ally on the bench.

We have proven there has been severe neglect, abuse and abandonment by the
mother, yet my son has no rights to even protect his own child. Everything
from my grandson being absent or tardy from school much of the time (she is
fined and jailed for this but nothing else), to being taped up and tormented
by her boyfriends, to a drunk guy staggering into their bedroom in the
middle of the night and passing out in a pile of his puke on their bedroom
floor, to being abandoned while she spent a week with her boyfriend in the
city-and there's a lot more! They just don't care!
My entire family (especially my son and grandson) have been destroyed,
emotionally financially, physically and spiritually. We live in constant
depression, anxiety and sorrow- terrified for my grandson's safety, praying
my son can cope and not have to resort to suicide. At the very least we know
all our lives have been forever shattered.

In June my son will finally get the hearing he has been requesting for 4
years. Four years of being threatened and harassed by the prosecution, told
they will make sure he doesn't see his child for a long time unless he
pleads guilty. The prosecutor has worked alongside his exes attorney to keep
him from having any rights, all because they're pissed off that he had the
nerve to ask for a trial instead of taking a guilty plea like other falsely
accused men do. Like he did with the first false accusation.

He was told 4 years ago they will wait as long as possible to give him his
trial. Told they know how to manipulate the jury to do what they want,and he
will be found guilty even if he's not. They use my grandson as a pawn,
jeopardizing his life and safety just to punish my son for not accepting a
plea to something he's not guilty of.

I use to believe in our system, now I feel I've been deaf, dumb and blind to
the truth all these years. There are many men in the same position, and many
innocent men are jailed and have their lives destroyed by the bias and
corruption in the system. Many of these men have children that are ripped
forever from them, many left in the sole custody of very violent unfit
mothers, as my precious grandson is. It's a horrible travesty that never
should happen in America.

We've learned it's useless to hire an attorney as none want to fight for the
rights of fathers/men when it's not popular to do so, and they face their
own repercussions from the prosecutors and judges if they try.

This may sound far-fetched but every word is true and there's nothing we can
do about it. All we can hope for now is to get the truth to others so they
may be able to avoid the nightmare we live in. It's so hard to even go on,
no way to escape the terrible pain.

I hope someone reads this that may truly care what is happening to so many
good men in our country, as well as the thousands of innocent children this
corruption destroys.

Thank you.


What did my dad do for me can be described in one scene from my childhood. At about 10 years old my dad started to teach me to shoot.

We had an air rifle, a BSA Meteor .177, that he first taught me to respect then, under his close supervison taught me to shoot. We had a long garden that backed onto open fields and he set up a catch box at the bottom of the garden with a cane in front of it. The top of the cane was level with the middle of the box. In the top of the cane he set a razor blade edge on.

We went up to the top of the house to a window that gave us an excellent oversight of the target and the surrounding area so that we could see easily anyone entering the taget area. From this distance you could see the cane but not the blade. We each fired several shots at the target and I was pleased that I nicked the cane, at least once. Then we went down to the box the see the results. I was amazed to see split pellets in the box.

I of course asked him how it was done - his reply was simple "practice".

My father gave me someone to look up to, someone to play with and someone to admire.
He was human and respected by his peers in a way that meant something tangible.

When he spoke, others listened.

To this day his opinion and advice are always welcome if not always followed as today I am a dad myself and the one thing he taught me was that everything, including standing on your own two feet, takes practice.

I dont always agree with you Glenn, but I see you for what you are - a man who stands on his own two feet.


I have good memories of the many ways my father made me and my three siblings feel happy and secure as we were growing up. The time he spent with us during family hour after a long work day was his way of showing both his love and his need for us. The attention he gave to me and my brothers and sister as we struggled with life's challenges probably took more patience on his part than I appreciated at the time. I'll always feel grateful for his guiding presence during family vacations and holiday gatherings. He set many good examples that helped me and my siblings in
immeasurable ways: a solid work ethic, sensitivity to the needs of others, honesty, patience, and a keen devotion to family and friends, especially family. Although his demanding administrative job took him away from home at times, he always kept his focus on our personal needs and well-being. I'll remember the care and concern he showed to my mother when she was ill with pneumonia, as well as the time he spent with my younger brother when he was sick in the hospital. Little things made an impression during childhood, like his comforting words to me as we sat together on my first ferris wheel ride. There was the time he helped me with a class project in
fifth grade and came through for me when I really needed his support. My father taught me to respect myself and others. He made mistakes at times like we all do, but he was always there for his family.


There are so many things that dads do best, that it's hard to know where to start. They play with babies and kids in a much more physical way than mom, which eventually teaches kids about self-control. They teach kids about taking good risks and exploring the world around them (we moms tend to hold our kids close). A dad's involvement is often the better indicator of a child's performance in school (most people think it's the mother's). Dads teach their sons how to treat women and teach their daughters what a good man is. And most of all, an involved dad teaches his kids that they are valued and precious to him, which does more for their self esteem than any peer group or outside influence when they are faced with issues later in
life such as alcohol and drug use.

If you would like to learn more about getting dads off to the right start so that they can prepare for this "role of a lifetime", please visit our web page - www.bcnd.org - or take a look at one of the attached articles about the program.


About 5 years ago, my younger brother, John, applied to become a police officer in our small town. My brother had dreamed of being a police officer since he was young, but life got in the way and he had been on a different career path. Finally, in his mid thirties, he decided he was going to pursue his dreams. Due to his age, he likely had only one chance at getting a position.

Because the police department was local, John knew several officers. He passed the written part of the exam and had only to pass the physical test. He knew he had a great shot at getting the job as his friends inside the force had been advocating for him.

John was confident as the day of the physical exam drew near. Holding black belts in 4 martial art forms, his physical abilities were excellent. The evening before the test, he explained to his 11 year old son and 6 year old daughter that he may soon become a police officer. Needless to say, they were proud of their Dad.

On the day of the exam, John woke up with a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. Although he had been supremely confident, he was tense as the pressure of fulfilling a lifetime dream became palatable.

Going into the physical exam, John was most concerned about the running portion of the test. Since this was the first test given, he would know soon enough if he had the stamina and speed to pass. Happily, John made it through the run with a few seconds to spare. He then cruised through all the other tests until he had just one more to go.sit-ups.

Sit-ups were a routine part of John's martial arts training. The police exam required sixty sit-ups completed in four minutes. As John rapidly began doing the sit-ups, his police officer friend held his legs in place. John quickly got through the first forty sit-ups without a pause. As he approached fifty, he could feel his stomach muscles beginning to rebel. As he hit fifty-five sit-ups, he was straining to pull his body up. With thirty seconds left, John had a mere one sit-up left to qualify for the police officer position. The police officer friend urged him on reminding him that he only needed one more. He never got there.

Upon failing the sit-up portion of the test, John rushed to the bathroom and vomited. As he exited the bathroom, his police officer friend pulled him aside and told him he was going to credit him with sixty sit-ups so he could pass the test. John looked his friend in the eye and told him, "No, I did not pass. The other people here did what was required and I do not want to become a police officer by cheating."

John drove home that day ashamed of himself for not realizing his lifelong dream. He honestly told the story to his family. He was embarrassed, but he felt it was important for them to know the truth.

I believe my brother's story is a great example of an intangible parenting event. He didn't do any laundry or cooking or bathing.he simply taught his children an invaluable lesson that hopefully will remain with them for the rest of their lives. All of this was delivered to his children in a matter of minutes, but without years having their Dad's presence in their lives and witnessing his sacrifices and believing in his integrity, the story would not have had the same impact.

The lives of Dads and children are littered with similar stories. When a Dad is removed from the live of his children, those children are denied the experiences and the wisdom of their Father. Society does not seem to recognize the invaluable contribution of Dads as it pertains to children witnessing behavior, and we all suffer for it.

John is now a successful business owner and his children are doing very well
in life with him as an example.

More of What Dads Do

Here is a short list of what I do.
1. I do work every day, I am a military member
2. I spend time with my children every day that I can
3. At the end of each day, I bathe my 2 youngest boys
4. I take my sons to do things they want to do, such as go to baseball games, races etc
5. Many days, I am the one who makes dinner in my home
6. I coach my 5 year old's T-ball team.
7. This same 5 year old was "kidnapped"(in quotes because I can't legally say that due to her being the biological mother, but when you have no contact with your son for 19 months, what other word is there?) I now have care, custody and control of him and he is much better off for it.
8. In addition, my current wife does not work. Not a problem for me because that is what is best for my boys.


There is another side of fatherhood/dad hood that most people are missing. When my parents divorced, many of the men in the neighborhood came by and told me that even though my father was gone, I had all of them to call on. They ranged from the neighborhood alcoholic to a Tuskegee Airman. They were in my corner for the rest of my life. In fact, there were few words spoken between me and my new dads. But I often heard that discretely they were always checking up on me. On the other hand I would just watch these men work hard not for themselves but their families. There was no bravado. They just got the job done. In fact they were so humble; I did not know that some had PhDs and law degrees. They showed a boy how to be a man.

My father was not a deadbeat. In fact he offered to continue to pay for my high school (approx 7k a year, in the late 1970s). This was in addition to child support. But for better or worse, I had learned self determination and work ethic from him. Hence I quit school. I took a job and put myself through college ( bs. Applied math/physics and grad school (Ms. Computer Science). My mother knew from day one, she could not be both mother and father. She would just smile with a few tears in her eyes that I had become a man. She was very thankful for the guidance that I received from the men in my neighborhood. No matter how much I resented my father for leaving, I do thank him for giving me the work ethic and drive that separates many men from boys. unfortunately this is often lost on women that say she was both your mother and father. It dishonors the dads who made me the person I am today.


Today I am the proud dad to two boys. They may live with their grand mother but I am there every day, emotionally and financially. Their mother chose to have children by men that were not interested in families. For some reason stable men did not appeal to her. She chose guys that chose not to be involved with their first families. Unfortunately she died two weeks after the youngest was born. Hence at 29 I cut my career short and became a dad. I am not alone in my choice. I have come across men that have taken on raising children by themselves. Others are changing career paths to spend more time with their children. The reason why you don't hear or read about us is that we are not a part of the social services system. Social services are a system designed to deal with society's maladies. If you are a man doing right you are not counted. There is no MIC. (Men, infants and children), so many of us go it alone. It may be an up hill struggle. But we are up to the challenge, thanks to our dads we will make it.


I have only my own experiences, education and observations to pass along on What Dads Do. By example and by lecture we teach our children how to be responsible, how
to take ownership of their own actions, how to take care of themselves and how to take care of those that they love. The world is a hard place. It is unfair; it is corrupt, and will eat you up and spit you out bleeding on the sidewalk if you are not prepared. There is a time for talking, a time for fighting, a time to keep silent, and a time to walk away. Dads teach their children these things and we must teach them in a thousand little ways in daily life that it creates a pattern of
understanding and behavior.

Dads teach their children to fight for their beliefs and be fair to others in an assertive manner. Dads teach their children how to cope with an unfair situation, and how to hold your head high when you lose and how to be graceful when you win. We teach our children how to work hard, how to take pride in what they do, how to be more than their work, their family, and their relationships. In short we teach them how to create and maintain their sense of self, and self worth. And we help fortify that sense of self with purpose and context. We teach our children how to live, live well, live well with others, and how to cope with the world that is at best
confusing, and at worst, dangerous.

Ours is a thankless job. We are maligned, misinterpreted, and assailed by those that are compelled to point out our failures; real and imagined. Yet for all of that, we are still just Dad.

My Story:

The topic of this letter is to let you know what Dads do, specifically what I do as a father. In order to understand this, context must be provided. My first wife and I divorced years ago, and we had two children, who are now 19 and 14. The divorce was her idea, she decided that she did not want to be married any more after I found out that she had been concealing for five months her pregnancy with her second child. I moved out, she retained everything except for my clothes, including half of the company we had started and worked together on. We maintained a positive and close relationship for about two years. I was present for the birth of my second
son, paid child support on a regular basis, took both boys weekly.

After we sold our company and went our separate ways things began to change radically and for the worse. After we sold the company, I went back to college, she went to work for the new owners of our company. She got involved with an ex-con, and lost her job by spending an overt amount of time trying to keep him out of incarceration in another state.

Soon thereafter the new boyfriend started sending harassing letters, took over the relationship between myself and my ex-wife, and then began a pattern of abusive behavior by both my ex-wife and this boyfriend towards myself and the children. The abuse was mostly verbal and emotional. Several times it verged on Physical, at times he tried to pick fights with me in front of the children. Once in a school parking lot when I was delivering the boys to an after hours school event.

I would receive horrific letters, ranting, threatening, and insulting and they would make the boys read them before they sent them out. I was the basis of all of the evils in their world, because I did or did not do something, usually involving their lack of money. The Boyfriend had an issue keeping jobs for longer than a few months, and they were constantly in financial trouble.

My ex-wife insisted I take the children every weekend. I had to drive 80% of the way to get them, and they almost always were dressed in almost their underwear; no coats, no additional clothing. I had to purchase clothing, in addition to pay child support. The next week, they would show up in underwear again, and I got smart in that I purchased clothing and kept it at my home so that they had clothes to wear when they lived with me.

During the summer it was for over two months. Gifts, from birthdays and Christmas
were all sold and the money used in part to fund a move from Oregon to New Mexico, and some of it was gambled away as they passed Las Vegas.

Five months later during a Christmas visit I was informed that the boys would stay with me for a few months, as their luck had run bad. I had a day to enroll them in school and make life work. I still paid child support during this time, and I lost hundreds on a pair of unused plane tickets.

After college I moved to a close metropolitan area to seek work. The boys and their mom and boyfriend lived in a small rural community 250 miles away. I drove 200 miles round trip twice in a weekend every month to spend time with them. This even had to be enforced by a contempt of court charge against my ex-wife who did not want to drive 50 miles to meet me at a neutral location. Despite that, I still often had to make the entire trip on a Friday and again that Sunday to spend those precious hours with my sons.

I paid the state ordered child support, never missed a monthly payment even when I was in College (at times it was over 100% of what I make working part time and going to school). Yet the boys were constantly told that I never paid child support, I was a "Deadbeat Dad" and dozens of character assassinating stories designed to cover their own poor choices in life. The boys were encouraged not to use my last name, but the name of their step-father (the boyfriend). School records were sometimes in this name. Especially for my younger son when this started when he was in the second
grade.

When they decided to move to Southern California 6 years ago, my oldest son decided to live with me. In the next two years, they would have moved 5 more times finally settling in a new small community in Oregon. My oldest son who came to live with me was wary and withdrawn. For two years he refused to put any decoration in his room. He had a hard time talking about anything and after years of reaching out, working with him, teaching him to think critically he has finally come to the realization that everything that was told to him by his mother was distorted, twisted and untrue. It has damaged their relationship permanently I am afraid. He
now has had some counseling and seems to be leading a productive and healthy life.

My second son, has no physical attributes that can be identified as my own. He has been trained to think of my current wife as an enemy and disrespects her constantly. My current wife is convinced that he is not mine. In retrospect, after years of thinking about those last months of my first marriage, the concealing of her pregnancy, and the lack of physical intimacy for many months before our breakup, I am fairly convinced that this child is likely not fathered by myself, but the result of an affair she had with a close friend; a close friend whom after the birth of our son, my ex-wife then went to live with for a while before he suddenly quit his job and moved across the country. I have never breathed a word or indicated
anywhere that this is the case. I will conceal this from my younger son until and if
he is old enough to explore this potentially devastating information.

There is more to the story, all along this same flavor and theme, but I believe you get the gist of the situation. You ask what Fathers do. I absorb abuse, doubt, misinformation, slander and outright lies to be a father to my sons. In order to help them be the best that they can be in this world, I have to ignore that my younger son is not likely my biological son.

I do not fight back, I do not reply to these terrible letters lest my children be in the middle of a war in which there will not be a winner, only the children as losers. I learned long ago that she will sacrifice the welfare of the children to cause me problems. I will and have, at every opportunity tired to put the children first, even at my own mental, physical and financial expense. I have sought help from professionals, both with lawyers who inform me that unless the children are in immediate physical danger I will never gain custody, and from conflict mediation
specialists who tell me that there is no winning scenario that all these letters and
issues are all just aimed at punishing me, not to resolve problems.

You ask what Dads Do? How to you quantify a scenario like this? We do the best we can. I teach my children that life sometimes is not fair. I show them by example that you must carry on despite the situation. I teach them that the measure of a person is not just carrying out your responsibilities, but by how you do so.

Thanks for letting me vent. I am a supporter of your cause, and believe strongly that you voice matters as the representation of the silent enduring fathers of this nation.



I'm not a dad, but because I have 2nd cousins that have a deadbeat for a dad I fill that role, and it's a role that I take VERY seriously, I love these kids beyond measure, and with all my heart, they know that and it comforts them, I play with them, I help them with their homework, I go to all their school functions and I support them no matter what, and by the way, did I mention that I love these kids with all my heart?

Monday, June 11, 2007

Single Mothers by Choice: Re-Ax

Reactions to last week's Single Mothers by Choice:
Dr Morse--

You are truly engaged in a labor of love. I have lost my confidence, totally, in a substantial percentage of American women, who have taken leave of their sense while engaging in a very suffocating kind of narcissism.

Stupidity is not the smallest of their character defects. When people try to help them, they are ungrateful -- even resentful. I'll never be able to figure that out, except for the fact that to me, it is indicative of an underlying low self worth that has almost no bottom and no end.

Sometimes, when people are bound and determined to travel the road to hell by the fastest conveyance they can get, all one can do is stand aside and let them go. It took me 20 years to let go of (and also stop blaming myself) for my ex-wife's vainglories. She's now 65 years old and has never been more full of herself than she is today. I was by no means blameless in the damage to our relationship, but I do have the ability to recognize when I'm wrong and can admit it.

You are right: It is a labor of love.

Sunday, June 10, 2007

Attack on Fathers on the Comic Page

I just wrote the following letter to the editor of my newspaper. I hope others will do so as well. I will blog more about this later. Dr J

To the Editor of the San Diego Union Tribune,
The comic strip “Opus” by Berkeley Breathed should be discontinued immediately.
This Sunday’s strip depicted three characters talking about a child of their acquaintance with two mothers. They speculate “Makes you wonder how he’ll do without a male role model in the house.” The visual answer to that an angry, inebriated, misogynist father throwing a TV out the window and swearing at the baseball player.
The comic should be pulled immediately, for these reasons.
1. It wasn’t funny.
2. It was mean.
3. It was anti-male, anti-father hate speech. If you doubt that, imagine if the images had been reversed: an innocent white male married father confronts an unattractive out of control gay person. The Human Rights Campaign would go ballistic. In my opinion, this comic is reason enough for happily married women to go ballistic at the intentional assault on their husbands.
4. It was in extremely poor taste to run an anti-father cartoon the week before Fathers Day.

Sincerely,
Jennifer Roback Morse, Ph.D.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Single Mothers by Choice

My latest article was published by the Institute of Marriage and Family Canada, which is a Focus on the Family affiliate. My article is called, "Single Mothers by Choice" and begins on pg 20 of the magazine. The subtitle gives it away: "A valid lifestyle choice, or another example of dumb sex?" Especially noteworthy is the sidebar, which draws on David Blankenhorn's new book, The Future of Marriage. Family scholar Paul Amato of Penn, did a calculation, asking what the world would be like for adolescents today if the rate of married parenthood were the same as it was in 1970. Not the Dreaded Ozzie and Harriett 1950's (que up scary music), but the beginning of the groovy 1970's. Amato calculates there would
643,oo fewer American adolescents failing a grade each year.
over a million fewer adolescents suspended from school,
453,000 fewer involved in violence
62,000 fewer youth would attempt suicide.
Putting the percentage of kids living with their two married parents back to 1970 is not a utopian pipedream: it would require an increase of about 9 percentage points.
Let us not give up.

What Dads Do

This one is from a grateful wife and mother:
My husband is the father of three children currently 21, 19 and 17. He is also their hero. He hasn't done anything that this world considers heroic yet they have him on a pedastal.
He has coached all of them in soccer since 4th grade and continues to coach in the youngest one's high school.
He jogs with them to the park where they will play pick up games.
He does work around the house when needed and takes out the trash, does the yardwork, pays the bills and occasionaly makes supper.
He helps with their homework when asked.
He does not miss a recital, game or function that they are participating in.
He lets them know when he is proud or disappointed in them.
He loves them unconditionally.
He does not give them everything they ask for.
He says "no" to inappropriate television and movies.
He listens to them.
He leads by example.
He expects them to do their best.
He eyes tear up when they graduate.
He gives them big hugs.
He prays with them.
He prays for them.
and he is a wonderful husband.
We've been married for 25 years and I am so blessed to have him in my life.

What Dads Do

This came via Mark Rosenthal, and is published by the permission of the author, Jack Kammer. I think you'll agree it is a great story.


Pablo, Juan and Richard:
A True Story of What Fathers Do
by Jack Kammer

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rejected by four newspapers
but published by various men's movement periodicals

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This could be dangerous, I thought. This is Los Angeles, early June 1992. And, besides, it's getting dark.

Stranded and alone, hauling a heavy suitcase along Washington Boulevard east of Lincoln Avenue, unable to find a phone that made sense or a taxi dispatcher interested in my fare, I was running late for my plane at LAX. I decided that this was a chance I needed, no, wanted to take. I approached three young Hispanic men standing outside their car in a fast food parking lot.

But first a little background.

I had just spent four days in the mountains above Palm Springs at a conference of men who wanted to give the nation new hope for old and growing problems. We were a few of the big fish in the small pond that some have called the men's movement. We agreed that what the nation most urgently needs right now is a massive infusion of strong, noble, loving, nurturing, healthy masculine energy to counteract America's malaise, impotence and social pathologies. We talked a lot about the importance of fathers, both as an archetypal metaphor and as a practical reality.

Back in the fast food parking lot I warily approached the three young, black-haired, brown-skinned men. "How ya doing?" I said calmly and evenly. "I'm trying to get to LAX and I'm running late. The cabs and the phones aren't cooperating. How much money would you need to take me?"

They looked at each other. One of them in a white T-shirt said to the one who must have been the driver, "Go for it, man."

The driver hesitated. I said, "Name a price that makes it worth your while."

He looked straight at me. "Ten bucks," he said.

"I'll give you twenty."

"Let's do it, man," said the T-shirted youth. The driver nodded and popped the trunk. "You wanna put your suitcase here?"

"No, thanks," I answered straight back. The image of being forced empty-handed out of the car was clear in my mind. "I'd rather keep it with me."

"That's cool," the T-shirt said.

So there I was, entrusting my life to what I hoped to be "positive male energy." I was thinking we should go west to Lincoln Avenue. We headed east. Now what?

But then we turned south and soon we were on a freeway. I knew it could have been stupid, but I took out my wallet, removed a twenty and said to the driver, "Here, I want to pay you now."

The driver took it with a simple "thanks."

"So here I am, guys," I said. "I sure hope you're going to take care of me."

T-shirt, sitting in the back seat with me, my suitcase between us, smiled knowingly and said, "It's okay, man. We're good guys."

I nodded and shrugged, "I sure hope so, because if you're not, I'm in big trouble, aren't I?"

They all laughed and then T-shirt spoke up. "So where you from?"

"Baltimore," I answered.

"Oh, man, it's nice back east. That's what they say. Green and everything."

I smiled and nodded, "Yeah. And back east, L.A. is our idea of heaven."

"Naah, it's rough here, man. It's hard." T-shirt was clearly going to be the spokesman.

Every issue we men's movement guys had talked about during our conference in the mountains was in this car. It was time for a reality check. "How old are you guys?" I asked.

They were sixteen and seventeen. They were all in school and had part-time jobs. Tshirt and the driver worked in a restaurant. The quiet young man riding shotgun didn't say.

"Tell me about the gangs. Are there gangs at your school?"

"There's gangs everywhere, man. Everywhere. It's crazy."

"Are you guys in a gang?" I asked.

"No way, man."

"Why not?" I wondered.

"Because there's no hope in it. You just get a bullet in your head."

"Yeah, but what hope is there for you outside the gang?"

"I don't know. I just want to get a future. Do something."

"What's the difference between you guys and the guys in the gangs?"

"I don't know, man. We just don't want to do it."

"Yeah, but why not? What's the difference?" I gently pressed.

"I don't know, man. I don't know. We're just lucky I guess."

I let the question sit for a moment, then started up. "What about fathers? Do you have a father at home?" I asked the youth in the back seat with me.

"Yeah. I do."

"How about you?" I asked the driver.

"Yeah, I got a dad."

"Living with you?"

"Yeah."

And the shotgun rider volunteered, "I got a dad, too."

"How about the guys in the gangs? Do they have fathers living with them?"

"No way, man. None of them do."

"So maybe fathers make a difference?" I suggested.

"Absolutely, man. Absolutely."

"Why?" I probed. "What difference does a father make?"

"He's always behind you, man, pushing you. Keeping you in line."

"Yeah. Telling you what's what," driver and shotgun agreed.

And I was taken safely right where I needed to go. The driver even asked what terminal I wanted. On time. Without a hitch.

I met eighteen amazing men at the conference in the mountains. I am eternally grateful for their wisdom and their urge to heal the nation.

But the most amazing men I met on my trip were the three youngest ones, Pablo, Juan and Richard -- amazing because in spite of everything they were trying to be good.

And the men to whom I am most grateful are the men I never met. The men to whom I am most grateful are their fathers.

It was their fathers who got me to the airport. It was their fathers who kept me safe.

© 1992 Jack Kammer

Monday, June 04, 2007

The Contraception Cases, cont.

Earlier, Ed Whelan wrote that the case that brought us Griswold v. Connecticut, was essentially a staged case. The law against contraception had not been enforced. The case was brought to make a point, and to establish an entitlement to use contraception.
June 7 1965— In Griswold v. Connecticut, the executive director of Planned Parenthood of Connecticut prescribed a contraceptive device for a married woman and contrived to get himself arrested for violation of an 1879 state law against use of contraceptives—a law that had never been enforced. In his majority opinion declaring a constitutional right for married persons to use contraceptives, Justice William O. Douglas (see This Week for April 4, 1939) infamously asserts that “specific guarantees in the Bill of Rights have penumbras, formed by emanations from those guarantees that help give them life and substance” and that “[v]arious [of these] guarantees create zones of privacy”—all of which, of course, it is the Court’s power and duty to discern. Douglas then cites six cases that supposedly “bear witness that the right of privacy which presses for recognition here is a legitimate one.” In fact, those cases did no such thing. (One case, for example, held merely that a homeowner’s conviction for resisting an inspection of his rat-infested home did not violate due process.)

Douglas purports to confine his ruling to the marital relationship: “We deal with a right of privacy older than the Bill of Rights—older than our political parties, older than our school system. Marriage is a coming together for better or for worse, hopefully enduring, and intimate to the degree of being sacred.” That this celebration of marriage would come from Douglas, who, in the year he penned it, was divorcing his third wife (after two years of marriage) and marrying his fourth, might suggest that it shouldn’t be taken seriously. The Court’s ruling seven years later in Eisenstadt (see This Week for March 22, 1972) would confirm that sense.

Ed doesn't specifically comment on the strategic value of this case. He suggests that the point of the case is to establish a constitutional right to use contraception. Another point that I have seen suggested is that this case allowed the public establishment of the free-standing birth control clinic. Prior to Griswold, women had been able to get contraception from the doctors, even though it was technically illegal. After Griswold, Planned Parenthood could open clinics that were essentially dedicated to nothing but contraception, and later, abortion.

The Contraception Cases

Over at Bench Memos, Ed Whelan quotes the Supreme Court on Eisenstadt v. Baird, the case that invited us all to believe that we are entitled, not only to the use of contraception, but to the outcome that perfectly functioning contraception would provide. Here is Ed:
Mar. 22 1972—Who knew that contraception had such generative power? A mere seven years after Justice Douglas’s majority opinion in Griswold v. Connecticut (a contrived case involving a law that was not being enforced) holds that married persons have a right to contraception hidden in the “penumbras” and “emanations” surrounding a right to marital privacy, Justice Brennan’s majority opinion in Eisenstadt v. Baird extends that right to unmarried persons. Dismissing as immaterial the marital relationship that Douglas had posited to be pivotal, Brennan, in a wondrous bit of bootstrapping, uses the Griswold holding as the basis for an equal-protection ruling (“whatever the rights of the individual to access to contraceptives may be, the rights must be the same for the unmarried and the married alike”) that undermines the very foundation of Griswold.

Brennan’s hijinx don’t end there. With Roe v. Wade already pending (it was first argued in December 1971), Brennan smuggles into his Eisenstadt opinion this assertion: “If the right of privacy means anything, it is the right of the individual, married or single, to be free from unwarranted governmental intrusion into matters so fundamentally affecting a person as the decision whether to bear or beget a child.” One year later, Justice Blackmun’s majority opinion in Roe quotes this passage immediately before declaring that “[t]hat right necessarily includes the right of a woman to decide whether or not to terminate her pregnancy.”

That "decision to bear or beget a child," is not in fact anybody's to make, and contraception does not actually allow us to make that choice. All contraception does is to change the odds of any given act of intercourse resulting in pregnancy. Only an unlimited abortion license can give us that right.

Pornography

Naomi Wolf, writing in the New York magazine, figures out that Pornography harms human relationships. The problem isn't that pornography turns men into raving, raping, lustful beasts. The problem is that men who consume lots of pornography are indifferent to real women.
Here is what young women tell me on college campuses when the subject comes up: They can’t compete, and they know it. For how can a real woman—with pores and her own breasts and even sexual needs of her own (let alone with speech that goes beyond “More, more, you big stud!”)—possibly compete with a cybervision of perfection, downloadable and extinguishable at will, who comes, so to speak, utterly submissive and tailored to the consumer’s least specification?

I wrote about this a while back on my Town Hall column, under the guise of a book review of Pornified. Here's the money quote from that article.
Guys, if you can’t perform sexually unless there is a porn video playing in the background, you’ve got a problem. You’re using too much pornography. The problem isn’t your wife or girlfriend. "If only she were more responsive. If only she were more sexually aggressive. If only she were more compliant. If only she were thinner. If only she had bigger breasts."

Nope. I’m not buying it. If you can’t get aroused by a real woman, you are using too much pornography.

Some men allow their women to believe its their fault. Women feel they aren’t sexy enough, or that they simply can’t compete with the artificial porno babes. Women become insecure over their body image, even against their better judgement. So let me say to women: your man’s porno consumption isn’t fundamentally about you. It’s about him.

Guys, don’t tell me "it’s natural." Yes, I know, men are more visual than women. Sure, it’s all because of evolutionary biology. Blah. Blah. Blah.

Dude, masturbating in front of a computer screen is not a natural behavior. The nature argument is that men get more aroused by visual stimuli, not that they prefer the virtual to the actual. If you spend all night surfing the net when there is a live woman in your life, you don’t get to play the "nature card."

Pornography is harming human relationships by turning the most basic social activity of our species, namely sex, into a private recreational good, and spectator sport.

A world without Women

This is a cautionary tale that mirrors my post from Albert Mohler about father absence in the UK. East Germany has had greater out-migration of women than men since the collapse of the Wall. The cause: women are better educated than men and better able to take advantage of the economic opportunities elsewhere. Yet another unanticipated consequence of Soviet-style feminism.
The result: not only are there now fewer women, there are also fewer chidlren. And the impact on the men who remain behind is scary:
In those regions where the economic problems are largest, a new, male-dominated underclass has developed, the members of which are excluded from participation in large parts of the society," the study finds. "Many of them have no job, no education and no partner. It is exactly these difficult conditions that make it more difficult to slow the negative demographic trend or even to reverse it.The study comes on the heels of a report that right-wing violence rose in Germany in 2006, with many of the neo-Nazi-related incidents occurring in Eastern Germany. Additionally, the neo-Nazi party NPD has seen increasing success at the polls in Eastern German states. In state elections in Mecklenburg-West Pomerania, the NPD captured fully 7.3 percent of the vote, meaning that the right wingers now hold seats in three German state parliaments, all of them in former East Germany.

The study recommends a greater focus on educating the region's young men, but admits that solving the problem is a difficult challenge. After all, there is no one to turn to for advice: nowhere in Europe is the disappearance of women as severe as it is in Eastern Germany.

"The lack of women in former East Germany has no equal anywhere in Europe," the study says. "Even Polar regions in northern Sweden and Finland, where young women have for years been leaving in droves, don't come close to the problem in Eastern Germany."

Women don't need men. Women leave. Without the moderating influence of women, and the maturing influence of fatherhood, young men do not grow up. The break-down of the conjugal relationship has far-reaching unintended consequences.

Children without Sex

The inventor of the Pill looks forward to the day when women can routinely harvest and freeze their eggs in their twenties and thaw them to have children later in life. Two problems with this: first, we are structuring the woman's reproductive life around the economic system, instead of structuring the economic system around the woman's fertility.
Carl Djerassi believes putting eggs on ice will have benefits to the health of "babies born to older mothers".

Biologically, the ideal age to have a child would be 18-20, after which the woman could go to university and have a career.

"In those circumstances, society would have to make arrangements for childcare, which it is does not do, so women are waiting till their careers are established and they can afford good childcare," he says.

"The problem with this is that the moment a woman hits 35 the risk of her having a child with Down’s syndrome increases four to six times.

"At that age she has lost 90-95 percent of her eggs, and those that are left are ageing rapidly. Storing her eggs is her insurance policy against the future. I think you will get the odd woman of 60 or 70 who will decide to have a baby, but most will be in their 30s and 40s."

He admits that the healthiest thing for the woman is to have her children in her twenties, but dismisses that as impossible. We could make it possible for women to get married, stay married, have kids early and return to the labor force. Why not make that a priority? There is much more involved than "providing childcare."
The second problem is that Babies without Sex really and truly means Babies without Relationships. Having babies without sex is a counter-intuitive twist: It's a little bit like skipping dessert and going straight for the brussels sprouts. But the real thing we are avoiding is relationship: normalizing non-sexual procreation amounts to a final and complete retreat from the spousal relationship and the ultimate marginalization of men from the family.
The advocates of contraception have never been willing to take responsibility for the destruction to human relationships that their methods have ushered into society. The claims of this 83 year old enabler of the Sexual Revolution sound almost comically naive:
"There are so many unwanted children in the world," he says.
"This would be a way of helping to reduce the number of unwanted children. Every child born to a woman who has taken a conscious decision to have a child at that time would be wanted and loved and properly cared for.

Can any serious person claim that there are no longer unwanted children today, or even that there are fewer "unwanted" children today than there were prior to the Pill? Can any serious person claim that child abuse has been reduced? This man is dreaming.