Nobody's more stupid and less cool than your daddy

• Father lays down law, however pointlessly

By Judy Wiley
Knight Ridder News Service

John Ritter, left, plays the harried father of a teenage daughter. He, Brian Sites and Amy Davidson star in the new series "8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter" at 7 p.m. Tuesdays on ABC television. ABC '8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter 7 p.m. Tuesdays ABC

The sweet little girl who adored you, who loved to smile and laugh and wear soft T-shirts with pink hearts on them, is gone. In her place is a sullen stranger wearing skintight jeans that start six inches below her black, glittery, skintight top. This person does not adore you — in fact, she cannot imagine anyone on the planet who is stupider and less cool.

People who don't have teenage daughters think this is an exaggeration.

It is not.

W. Bruce Cameron knows that, and he had the good sense to capitalize on his pain instead of just drinking heavily like everyone else. Now he's writing a screenplay for Disney, after his book, "8 Simple Rules for Dating

My Teenage Daughter" (Workman Publishing, $11.95), became a hit television series by the same name.

Cameron, 46, says recognition was hard to come by. After he had 10 books rejected by publishers, a newspaper column he wrote for the Rocky Mountain News struck a chord with parents.

"People just went crazy," he says. "People who know that I was doing this, like at volleyball games, would come racing over and say, 'Oh my God, I've got that posted on my refrigerator.' "

He parlayed that newspaper column into a book proposal that was snapped up by Workman Publishing, and then he was approached by television for the series, which airs on ABC.

The series, starring John Ritter, won best new comedy series at the 2003 People's Choice Awards.

Desperation drives Cameron's readers.

During his book tours, he says, "the people who have come up to me pretty much say, 'Oh my God, can you help me? What happened? How do I get my daughter back? What works?' Nothing works. That's the problem."

He writes, in the first chapter:

"Having a child mutate into a teenager is a bit like being an airline passenger who must suddenly take over for a stricken pilot and land the plane. And in this case, the passengers are all yelling, 'I hate you! I hate you!' and slamming the door to the cockpit."

A lot of parents who first encounter this phenomenon run to the nearest bookstore for help. There, they will encounter very little humor and a lot of psychological pondering.

Some of this reflection is based on serious interviews with teenagers who actually — apparently unbeknownst to the authors — are gunning for more time on the Internet or a later curfew. Other books address the difficult times girls face in today's world, completely disregarding the parents who are trying to figure out more basic questions, such as how they will ever get to use the telephone again.

Cameron knows what's really going on in a parent's mind when the signs of adolescence appear.

"Most of the verbal output from a teenager is discharged into the telephone system, though computer companies have recently put 'chat' technology into American homes to help handle some of the load," he writes.

Or, the question of communication with a teenage daughter:

"When the father says, 'You aren't going anywhere until you clean up your room!' the daughter hears, 'Close the door to your room so I can't see it and then go to the mall!' ... When the father says, 'Turn off the TV,' the daughter hears nothing."

Cameron, now of Santa Monica, Calif., devotes a chapter to the telephone and another to teenagers and technology. All teenagers insist they need to be on the Internet to do "homework."

"I peered over her shoulder. A small window was open, and a steady stream of chat pouring into it.

" 'Q. Who has the best butt, Mel Gibson or Jean-Claude Van Damme?' "

"A. What about Matthew McConnaughey?

" 'A. Brad Pitt for sure.'

" 'Is this for anatomy class?' I asked.

" 'Dad, this is private!' she hissed. "I'm working on my homework.' "

He isn't kidding. These conversations happened.

Asked whether his two teenage daughters were upset to see their habits and words plastered all over a book and now a TV series, Cameron answers, "They weren't talking to me anyway."

The television series captures chunks of the book's humor, with Ritter playing the dad, the two teenage daughters treating him like an idiot and a 13-year-old son contributing boy jokes to the mix.

It even elicited a few laughs from a teenager who tore herself away from her cell phone and the Internet long enough to watch it last week. But afterward, her review was the one-word description that applies to anything a teenage girl's parent might have seen, touched, thought about or ever heard of: The show, she said, was "stupid."

Father lays down law, however pointlessly

W. Bruce Cameron based his book on his experiences with his daughters.

Rule No. 2: Do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off my daughter's body, I will remove them.

Rule No. 3: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. This is utterly ridiculous — if you want to be stylish, you should look to me for cues. I've been dressing the same way for 20 years, and I still look great!

Nonetheless, I want to be fair and open-minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants 10 sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to assure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric staple gun and fasten your trousers securely in place around your waist.

Rule No. 4: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: When it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.

Rule No. 5: You may feel that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."

Rule No. 6: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is OK with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

Rule No. 7: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, please do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

Rule No. 8: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: places where there are beds, sofas or anything softer than a wooden stool; places lacking parents, policemen or nuns; places where there is darkness; places where there is dancing, holding hands or happiness; places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater and a goose-down parka zipped to her chin. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies that feature chain saws are OK. Hockey games are OK.