Jim Lindberg is a Punk Rock Dad. When he drives his kids to school in the morning, they listen to the Ramones, the Clash, or the Descendents—and that's it. They can listen to Britney and Justin on their own time. Jim goes to soccer games, dance rehearsals, and piano recitals like all the other dads, but when he feels the need, he also goes to punk shows, runs into the slam pit, and comes home bruised and beaten . . . but somehow feeling strangely better. While the other dads dye their hair brown to cover the gray, Jim occasionally dyes his blue or green. He makes his daughters' lunches, kisses their boo-boos, and tucks them in at night—and then goes into the garage and plays Black Flag and Minor Threat songs at a criminal volume. He pays his taxes, votes in all the presidential and gubernatorial elections, serves on jury duty, and reserves the right to believe that there is a vast Right Wing Conspiracy—and that the head of the P.T.A. is possibly in on it. He is a Punk Rock Dad.
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