Hackin' good times on Youtube

I know who Fred is, and it’s all because of my oldest daughter.

My daughter is 13 and a fan of Fred Figglehorn, a fictitious six-year-old who has anger management problems, an alcoholic mother, and a crush on a girl named Judy. She's been following Fred’s trials and tribulations on Youtube for some time now. Or should I say, we’ve been following Fred.

I know about Fred and all of her other favorite videos on Youtube because I’ve always kept close tabs on her internet usage. I am usually not far away when she is online, so I often get a “Hey Mom—you’ve got to come see this” call. I’m sure she would rather have someone her own age to share it with. But sometimes, you have to take what you can get—even a forty-three-year-old woman with a dish towel in her hand.

As a result, I’ve gotten to know my daughter better. In the way that I used to connect with my grandparents when we’d sit around the kitchen table playing cards, I’ve connected with my oldest daughter through Youtube. We’ve learned that we share the same warped sense of humor.

Together, we’ve marveled over the popularity of the “Numa Numa” video, in which a chubby guy enthusiastically lip synchs to the now-ubiquitous Euro-dance hit.

We’ve been charmed by the two British tots of the widely viewed “Charlie Bit My Finger” video. We love it how the big brother puts his finger in Charlie’s mouth—a total set up—and then is shocked by how hard his baby brother chomps down on it. We love Charlie’s gleeful laughter, and the bitter tagline: “Charlie bit me—and that really hurts!”

Then there’s the other Charlie—“Charlie the Unicorn,” which gets better with each viewing. We love Charlie’s fat, scowling eyebrows, his crankiness, and his New Jersey accent. We enjoy the deceptively cheerful unicorn duo who leads him on a variety of adventures on the way to candy mountain. We love, “Oh, God, what’s that?” “It’s a neopluradon, Charlie. A magical neopluradon.”

As a sign of his popularity, they’re now selling Charlie the unicorn t-shirts at tween superstore, Hot Topic.

Wait a minute, I knew about something before it was in at Hot Topic? A few years ago, I wouldn’t have even gotten the reference on one of their t-shirts.

We were watching the Fred videos long before CNN finally got around to breaking the story about them. The last time I was half this edgy, I had an asymmetrical haircut and Modern English was playing on my cassette deck—not serving as background music for a hamburger ad.

My daughter knows all about Modern English, the B52s, the Cars and the other bands of the late ‘70s to ‘80s when I came of age. We watch their videos on Youtube as well. She is appalled/mesmerized by the over-the-top theatricality of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody,” which I told her that I once went door-to-door singing with my best friend. I like to show her the odd ball things that somehow help define an era—like the dancing dwarf dream sequence on Twin Peaks, a show I adored as a young married.

At 13, my daughter has entered the demographic that advertising execs in trendy glasses are paying millions to understand. And I’m right there—me, middle-aged bag with the dish towel-- totally getting it.