Dad at Peace

By Chris Gethard

Chris Gethard has accomplished the thing that dreams are made of: a successful career as an artist. He’s appeared on television and in films, traveled the world to perform comedy onstage in front of adoring fans, and experienced the seemingly limitless freedom that comes with such a lifestyle.

So why is Gethard making thought-provoking decisions to change all of that? Decisions that ultimately trade his not-so-daily routine of flexibility for a life of stability while somehow giving him the most peace he’s ever felt? If you’ve read his previous Originals, Dad on Pills and The Lonely Dad Conversations, you’ve probably already figured out the reason.

In Dad at Peace, Gethard reflects on the impact of career disappointments and health scares. He also takes pause on memories with his own parents — and even more importantly, the daily moments with his son — all leading him to dive deeply and openly into what lies ahead towards something that neither he nor those around him ever expected.

Dad, husband, storyteller, podcast host of Beautiful/Anonymous, and so much more (including what he considers to be “chief among them”: boring), Gethard is turning the page to a new chapter. As he begins to find peace in — and acceptance for — what’s to come, Gethard embarks on a journey that’s not just about gratitude and appreciation for the past but one that leads to a world full of colorful animals, rock adventures, and a new dream for the future: spending more time at home with his feet firmly planted on the ground.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Everand Originals
• Release date: Jan 31, 2024
• ISBN: 9781094453972

Chris Gethard

CHRIS GETHARD is a comedian and creator of The Chris Gethard Show and host of the popular weekly podcast Beautiful Stories from Anonymous People. His Judd Apatow-produced one-man show, Career Suicide, premiered on HBO and was nominated for the Lucille Lortel award for its off-Broadway run. He lives in Queens, New York.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

I live a lame suburban existence, and people rarely ask me how I’m doing. And that’s a good thing. Because I no longer know the answer.

I am many things. Chief among them is boring. Right now, as I write this, I’m a forty-three-year-old, chubby white guy wearing glasses that were hip in the 2010s, sitting in a cookie-cutter Starbucks in a generic strip mall somewhere in Central New Jersey, a place so uncool that people debate whether or not it even exists.

I am also, in a way that is increasingly strange with the passing of time, recognizable. Sometimes, people see me and they get happy. Then they ask me if I’m the guy who hit Oscar with a pipe on the American version of The Office. When I tell them I am indeed the actor who played that character, they respond with I knew it! and sometimes, they want a selfie with me. That episode of The Office is the one thing — by far — that most people know me from in this world. It aired in November of 2012. It’s so odd to think that my most broad legacy comes from 2012. In 2012, I hadn’t succeeded at much yet. I hadn’t failed. I didn’t yet feel discovered, let alone forgotten. My life was seven years away from even starting.

I am also, to a small and getting smaller every day segment of the population, meaningful. Because I am (was?) an artist, and I made some things that meant a lot to a minuscule percentage of people. Every once in a blue moon, someone tells me that they used to watch me on public access television, where I hosted a strange talk show that I foolishly named after myself. Sometimes, these people are artists themselves now, and they tell me my work was part of what made them become so. They say things like: "Your public access show got me through middle school." I am always flattered by this. I also feel old. And I am usually confused. Not because the work from back then is anything to be ashamed of, but it just seems so far away.

Sometimes, people tell me they saw a special I did on HBO in 2017 called Career Suicide and that it helped them see a therapist for the first time or get on antidepressants. I’m always blown away by that, but again… who was it who made that? I don’t even feel like I live in the same skin as that guy. He seems like an acquaintance from long ago. My life didn’t begin for two more years from when that special aired.

I could spend hours listing the things I am. I’m a volunteer ambulance driver. I’m a lawn enthusiast. I’m a failure. I am Asbury Park. I’m more of a success than I thought I could ever be. I’m perpetually and dangerously lonely. I’m also mentally healthier than I’ve ever been. I’m a husband and, on my best days, a good one. I’m weighted down by the rocks in my pocket. I am tired. I am bored.

I haven’t listed the thing I know in my heart that I really am because its power is too much to put into words.

My life truly began in 2019. It felt like the opening credits lasted until I was thirty-nine years old, then he showed up, and that’s when the movie really got going. It scares me sometimes. I am an example. To one little boy, I am the example. Like all men who turn this corner, to one human, I am now both inspirational and cautionary. I am responsible for someone else. It’s daunting, and some men dodge it. I know what I am, and you’ve figured it out, too, I’d guess. I just can’t bring myself to type the word yet. Putting things this powerful into print makes them true. And then, that becomes all I am, and to be fair, all I ever needed to be… but still.

So, I guess I can say that if I had to boil it down, I am perched on a rock next to a pink tiger, the fiercest one you’ve ever seen.

And I am at peace.

CHAPTER 1

What is the opposite of peace? Is it… War? Turmoil? Upheaval? Let’s add discord, tumult, unrest, anguish, and alarm to that list as well. Merriam-Webster lists about one hundred possible antonyms to the word peace, and I get it. Peace is a hard word to define, and we’re often only aware of its existence because of the many ways in which we don’t feel it.

I wouldn’t describe most of my now forty-three years on Earth as peaceful. My brain lives on a very active fault line. Anxiety has long ruled my days. Depression has sunk its grip in way too often for me to find any sustained tranquility. I’ve never been certain what a molehill is, but it’s a moot point because I turn them into mountains as a rule. Sometimes, I find confidence and take a big swing in life. More often, I freeze in panic, trying to figure out completely inconsequential nonsense, like what side dish goes with ravioli. I’m talking standing over the pot of ravioli, thinking about asparagus, then thinking about creamed spinach, then having to take a bunch of deep breaths and put my head down on the counter because how could anyone possibly figure this shit out? levels of indecision.

Externally, things have mostly been fine. I’ve experienced no small amount of privilege, and I’m

Reviews for Dad at Peace

[congo bimptl · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Dad at Peace is a heartbreaking and heartening look at juggling being a new parent and functioning middle-class artist, and the ways in which the two can and cannot meet. Seldom will folks be this transparent with their view on their artistic / Hollywood career, and talk through the process of gradually shedding it in favor of fatherhood with this sort of vulnerability.