A Quick Question and Answer Session
Q: "Justin, how did you become such a great father and husband? Surely, you must have a natural insight into psychology and sociology? Or, perhaps, you are a modern-day prophet, receiving messages from up high to spread to the common people of this land, in order to create a more peaceful, just and verdant world."
A: No, voices in my head, I'm not! I am in no way, shape or form a great father or husband. I have simply learned what seems to work in my particular situation. If these tips work for you, then so be it.
Q: Justin, what's your take on spanking?
A: Listen, I believe that there are a lot of good parents who spank their kids. I also believe that great parents don't ever have to spank. That's because standing on the dining room table, waving a semi-automatic handgun above your head and shouting expletives that you've just made up out of blind anger will get the point across even better.
Q: I want to teach my kids life lessons and teach them about day to day behaviors. Should I wait for the opportunity to present itself, or should I sit them down and have a actual lesson?
A: I've learned that the best way to teach anything to small children is to use props and costumes. But be careful. Some can be more detrimental than helpful. For example:
Good Idea: Dress up in a giant tooth superhero costume named "Molar Man" to explain the importance to proper dental hygiene.
Bad Idea: Dressing like a clown and tapping on their bedroom window in the middle of the night to explain a fire evacuation route.
Good Idea: Using stuffed animals to demonstrate how bullies are not friends.
Bad Idea: Using stuffed animals to explain how meat packing plants work.
Q: When you are faced with a parenting or marriage challenge, and you and your wife have different points of view, how do you handle it as a team?
A: Excellent question! It's important to realize that you and your spouse may not always see eye to eye on everything. You must handle the problem maturely and politely; like adults. For instance, I usually just walk around the house mimicking my wife, using the high-pitched "wife" voice until she resigns to the fact that I am right. Or until she puts me in time out...Whichever comes first...
Q: When do you have "the talk" with your kids?
A: Immediately. As soon as they start comprehending words and sentences. It's never too early to talk to your kids about the risks and the social and moral repercussions of falling into the world of carnival workers or "Carnies." Wait! What "talk" are you talking about?
Q: Is it true that you can open a beer can with your pinkie toe?
A: Yes.
Q: How do you keep the fire lit between you and your wife?
A: Never speak to each other. You see, when you are first dating someone, you're always NOT talking. Movies, clubs, concerts...And you're all "puppy dogs and ice cream" with each other...I try to speak to my wife as little as possible to make sure she never realizes how boring I am or how many repressed issues I have shoved deep, deep into my psyche and drowned with booze. So, when she says, "You're still the same man I met all those years ago," she means it!
Q: Which one of your kids is your favorite?
A: There is no way I can answer that! Besides, they know who they are...
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Saturday, April 21, 2012
I love the 80's
I have learned that your kids will develop into whatever you mold them to be. Usually, they will reflect the personality traits you exhibit. But I believe that, if you are awesome enough, you will also subconsciously shape them into the greatest mash-up cast for a 80's television show ever.
My oldest, Danny, is a perfect cross between MacGyver, Lieutenant Templeton "Face" Peck, and Mork from Ork. MacGyver is a good description of Danny for two simple reasons: He loves to tinker with things and make them work and he will wait forever before getting his hair cut and will inevitably end up with "hockey hair" every three months or so. Danny is also the "Face" of my squad of children. He is quick to approach anyone, he's handsome, and he knows what to say to get things done. Also, I've seen him in the back yard with his toy rifle, and I have to believe that, just like the rest of the A-Team, he wouldn't be able to hit the broad side of a barn...But, there's a third side to him. The goofy, unexplainable and genuinely funny side. I once walked by his room and he was standing on the edge of the bed, flapping his arms and hooting like an owl. I asked what he was doing, and he replied "Just practicing..." I couldn't even imagine for what he was practicing, so I just kept walking, shaking my head. Another time, he came up to me walking like a robot and asked in a mechanical voice, "What is the recipe for peanut butter?"
Ana is a tricky one. She has a complexity that is hard to identify, so I have had to dig deep for this. You see, Ana had a timidness to her that keeps her from taking a lot of chance. This comes probably from her brothers being so over-the-top. But when she is alone or in a comfort zone, she has a creativity that is impressive. When in front of a authority figure, she sometimes becomes Vicki from "Small Wonder." She needs prompting for everything she needs to do, and is very slow and mechanical and precise in all her movements. When in this mode, she also takes everything extremely literally. "Could you put that bucket on the porch," is a quick way to find her climbing the trellis to place a bucket on the roof of the porch. Other times, she is sucked into the tomboy role as she is surrounded by two brothers. This is when she transforms into Louise McCloud from "The Young Riders." (I told you that I had to dig deep!) She plays "Soldiers" with Danny, digs in the sand box with James, and will settle for comic book movies instead of anything marketed towards young girls. But deep down, she is Blair from "The Facts of Life." Very pretty and very aware of it. She LOVES getting her hair done, and loves even more when people compliment her on it. She's not vain or egocentric. She just likes the attention occasionally pulled from her very "present" brothers and be placed on her. Ultimately, however, she seems to play the "female partner" of any 80's show. She is Mrs. King, Jennifer Hart, and Daisy Duke; able to keep up with the boys and usually the straight-laced one of the bunch.
James...Ah, James! He is the wild man. Imagine the insanity of Capt. H.M. "Howling Mad" Murdock, the tenacity of Sgt. Bosco "B.A." Baracus, and the unconventional leadership and disguises of Col. John "Hannibal" Smith all rolled into a 2' 6" package. He will drag anyone into his world, put on a cowboy hat and goggles, and physically push them into a game of "I pity the fool who don't play hide and seek with me," in which he will put the person in a place to hide and then spend about ten minutes "looking" for them. James also has hair of Jack Tripper and the coy looks of Remington Steele. He is a handsome boy, as well, and gets just about anything he wants, like Ricky Stratton. With his talking cars, his tendencies for large jumps and the uncontrollable desire to slide across the hood of my car, I also believe he is part Michael Knight. Although he doesn't have the chest full of "man mane," I have seen him destroy a cheeseburger while rolling on the floor and babbling unintelligibly, as well.
But, even though this sounds like a terrific cameo-rich episode of the Love Boat, there's more. They turn into dynamite teams when they're together. They play off of each other's strengths to form an unlikely alliance. Danny is the Bruce Banner to James' Hulk. Ana is the Larry Appleton to Danny's Balki Bartokomous. And James is the JR Ewing to...well...Everyone...
My children are who I make them. Everything I do, every word I speak, every gesture I make is a small nudge from me to them to who they will become. And, frankly, I am proud of who they are now and who they will become. And, anyways...I'm the 6 Million dollar Man, "Hawkeye" Pierce and The Fall Guy....Just Saying...
My oldest, Danny, is a perfect cross between MacGyver, Lieutenant Templeton "Face" Peck, and Mork from Ork. MacGyver is a good description of Danny for two simple reasons: He loves to tinker with things and make them work and he will wait forever before getting his hair cut and will inevitably end up with "hockey hair" every three months or so. Danny is also the "Face" of my squad of children. He is quick to approach anyone, he's handsome, and he knows what to say to get things done. Also, I've seen him in the back yard with his toy rifle, and I have to believe that, just like the rest of the A-Team, he wouldn't be able to hit the broad side of a barn...But, there's a third side to him. The goofy, unexplainable and genuinely funny side. I once walked by his room and he was standing on the edge of the bed, flapping his arms and hooting like an owl. I asked what he was doing, and he replied "Just practicing..." I couldn't even imagine for what he was practicing, so I just kept walking, shaking my head. Another time, he came up to me walking like a robot and asked in a mechanical voice, "What is the recipe for peanut butter?"
Ana is a tricky one. She has a complexity that is hard to identify, so I have had to dig deep for this. You see, Ana had a timidness to her that keeps her from taking a lot of chance. This comes probably from her brothers being so over-the-top. But when she is alone or in a comfort zone, she has a creativity that is impressive. When in front of a authority figure, she sometimes becomes Vicki from "Small Wonder." She needs prompting for everything she needs to do, and is very slow and mechanical and precise in all her movements. When in this mode, she also takes everything extremely literally. "Could you put that bucket on the porch," is a quick way to find her climbing the trellis to place a bucket on the roof of the porch. Other times, she is sucked into the tomboy role as she is surrounded by two brothers. This is when she transforms into Louise McCloud from "The Young Riders." (I told you that I had to dig deep!) She plays "Soldiers" with Danny, digs in the sand box with James, and will settle for comic book movies instead of anything marketed towards young girls. But deep down, she is Blair from "The Facts of Life." Very pretty and very aware of it. She LOVES getting her hair done, and loves even more when people compliment her on it. She's not vain or egocentric. She just likes the attention occasionally pulled from her very "present" brothers and be placed on her. Ultimately, however, she seems to play the "female partner" of any 80's show. She is Mrs. King, Jennifer Hart, and Daisy Duke; able to keep up with the boys and usually the straight-laced one of the bunch.
James...Ah, James! He is the wild man. Imagine the insanity of Capt. H.M. "Howling Mad" Murdock, the tenacity of Sgt. Bosco "B.A." Baracus, and the unconventional leadership and disguises of Col. John "Hannibal" Smith all rolled into a 2' 6" package. He will drag anyone into his world, put on a cowboy hat and goggles, and physically push them into a game of "I pity the fool who don't play hide and seek with me," in which he will put the person in a place to hide and then spend about ten minutes "looking" for them. James also has hair of Jack Tripper and the coy looks of Remington Steele. He is a handsome boy, as well, and gets just about anything he wants, like Ricky Stratton. With his talking cars, his tendencies for large jumps and the uncontrollable desire to slide across the hood of my car, I also believe he is part Michael Knight. Although he doesn't have the chest full of "man mane," I have seen him destroy a cheeseburger while rolling on the floor and babbling unintelligibly, as well.
But, even though this sounds like a terrific cameo-rich episode of the Love Boat, there's more. They turn into dynamite teams when they're together. They play off of each other's strengths to form an unlikely alliance. Danny is the Bruce Banner to James' Hulk. Ana is the Larry Appleton to Danny's Balki Bartokomous. And James is the JR Ewing to...well...Everyone...
My children are who I make them. Everything I do, every word I speak, every gesture I make is a small nudge from me to them to who they will become. And, frankly, I am proud of who they are now and who they will become. And, anyways...I'm the 6 Million dollar Man, "Hawkeye" Pierce and The Fall Guy....Just Saying...
Friday, April 6, 2012
Celery...Broccoli...Gotta be...
When you first become a parent, you understand that your life will change. But you never fully understand to what degree until you are in the middle of an auditorium, surrounded by 1000 squealing children and large singing, dancing vegetables staring down at you from stage from behind concert lights.
All three of my children have gone through the "Veggietales" phase. But none as much as my youngest, James, is right now.
A couple of months ago, we received some of the silly vegetable videos as a gift, and since then, tomatoes and cucumbers have taken over our lives. They even have their own place in our nightly prayers..."God bless Daddy, God bless Mama, God bless Bob, God bless Larry..." In fact, anytime we go to the grocery store, we cannot pass through the produce section without an atomic toddler meltdown if he can't get a armful of fresh vegetable to take as new toys. I have found these "toys" strewn about the house later, as he will inevitably retrieve them from their slumber out of the refrigerator. Some are half eaten by the dog, others are drawn on with pens and crayons, while the rest usually fall behind furniture and my wife and I are sent on a "find Archibald the Asparagus before he starts to rot and cause the house you smell like old urine" mission. I used to like eating vegetables. Now I love to eat them. Because in my mind, I am silencing the Silly Songs in my head. I feel like the Hannibal Lector of produce: "Can you still hear the Vegetables Singing, Clarice?"
Don't get me wrong. The Veggietales are fun videos with a positive message about God's love. But, just like any other children's show, it can definitely wear on the sanity of a parent after the six-hundredth viewing. Just like Dora the Explorer. I have dreamt a many a night the day when the grumpy old troll fills her backpack full of rocks and tosses her into the river while creating a stuffed mantle piece out of the talking monkey.
Wednesday night, I took all three kids to see "Veggietales" Live...by myself...for the first time. Gina had youth group and this was a one-night-only event. It was obvious to the veteran parents around me that this was my first kids' show on my own. The mother of three in the row directly in front of us kept turning to me and smiling a sweet, compassionate smile as James was screaming in her ear because he wanted to run down the stairs and onto the stage to dance with Larry. And when the squash came out, he stepped down, grabbed her face and did that thing that kids do. You know: teeth clenched, grunting loudly and shaking as if he were a phone set to vibrate.
There was a song in which all the cast members invited the kids in the audience to dance in front of the stage. Now, I have seen clips of The Beatles on The Ed Sullivan Show or tweens watching the Jonas Brothers exiting a limo, but I never thought I would ever see that kind of reaction from hundreds of tiny children. In one riotous movement, the seats were emptied and the front of the stage was swarmed with miniature hands sticking up, trying to catch a touch of the giant stuffed tomato costume. Luckily, security was blocking the way. Yes, security. The same black shirts with yellow writing you would see at a rock concert were standing (or kneeling, rather) with their arms outstretched, trying to prevent any breach that could possibly endanger the cast or disrupt the performance. The only thing that made me cringe at this sight was the idea that it would be my son that they would have to heave back into the crowd or drag away to the back of house while he was kicking and shouting obscenities.
Ultimately, we survived. The show ended, we picked up some souvenirs, and we left. But on the way home, I started thinking, "So, this is it?"
Over the last few years, I have started to feel my age and my position as a father. And it's not a bad thing; just different. When I was young, I loved concerts and live theatre. I took every opportunity to enjoy all kinds of genres in a variety of venues. When I was 16, my friends Mike and Robert and I snuck away on a road trip to Kansas City from Concordia to see Lollapalooza. After that, outdoor music festivals became a fixture for me. "Edgefest" in Omaha, "Jayhawk Fest" in Lawrence, and many others...Later, as I became of age to enter bars and clubs, I started seeking out smaller venues (The Beaumont, The Granada, The Uptown) to see musicians and acts that inspired me. B.B. King at the Lied Center, Band of Horses at City Market, Ingrid Michaelson at Knuckleheads...
But the other night, I realized where I was in life. It started with Jiggle Jam at Crown Center. A music festival for kids. Mr. Stinky Feet and They Might Be Giants headlined with arts and crafts and bubble station all around the grounds. We returned sunburned and exhausted, much like the music festivals of my youth. And then, for a "Grown-Up Date Night," I scored tickets to see Green Day at the Sprint Center a couple years ago. It was that night that I realized that I wasn't the hip, young guy I once was. My wife and I spent the entire show standing, trying to hear music from behind a group of screaming twenty-somethings, complaining that it was too loud and that our feet hurt. We tried again last fall, when we went to see Better Than Ezra at Power and Light. This was a lot more relaxed and laid back. Much more our style as of late. And given the era of popularity for this group, we were surrounded by a lot of like-minded people.
But being a dad is fun. And seeing the look at enjoyment on my kids' faces during and after a show in which a girl dressed up as a monkey performs cartwheels around the stage while giant vegetables serenade makes it all worth it. Let the young people have their mainstream shows. Because someday, it will be them echoing the phrase, "I can't believe I am saying this, but I am excited to see Toy Story on Ice."
All three of my children have gone through the "Veggietales" phase. But none as much as my youngest, James, is right now.
A couple of months ago, we received some of the silly vegetable videos as a gift, and since then, tomatoes and cucumbers have taken over our lives. They even have their own place in our nightly prayers..."God bless Daddy, God bless Mama, God bless Bob, God bless Larry..." In fact, anytime we go to the grocery store, we cannot pass through the produce section without an atomic toddler meltdown if he can't get a armful of fresh vegetable to take as new toys. I have found these "toys" strewn about the house later, as he will inevitably retrieve them from their slumber out of the refrigerator. Some are half eaten by the dog, others are drawn on with pens and crayons, while the rest usually fall behind furniture and my wife and I are sent on a "find Archibald the Asparagus before he starts to rot and cause the house you smell like old urine" mission. I used to like eating vegetables. Now I love to eat them. Because in my mind, I am silencing the Silly Songs in my head. I feel like the Hannibal Lector of produce: "Can you still hear the Vegetables Singing, Clarice?"
Don't get me wrong. The Veggietales are fun videos with a positive message about God's love. But, just like any other children's show, it can definitely wear on the sanity of a parent after the six-hundredth viewing. Just like Dora the Explorer. I have dreamt a many a night the day when the grumpy old troll fills her backpack full of rocks and tosses her into the river while creating a stuffed mantle piece out of the talking monkey.
Wednesday night, I took all three kids to see "Veggietales" Live...by myself...for the first time. Gina had youth group and this was a one-night-only event. It was obvious to the veteran parents around me that this was my first kids' show on my own. The mother of three in the row directly in front of us kept turning to me and smiling a sweet, compassionate smile as James was screaming in her ear because he wanted to run down the stairs and onto the stage to dance with Larry. And when the squash came out, he stepped down, grabbed her face and did that thing that kids do. You know: teeth clenched, grunting loudly and shaking as if he were a phone set to vibrate.
There was a song in which all the cast members invited the kids in the audience to dance in front of the stage. Now, I have seen clips of The Beatles on The Ed Sullivan Show or tweens watching the Jonas Brothers exiting a limo, but I never thought I would ever see that kind of reaction from hundreds of tiny children. In one riotous movement, the seats were emptied and the front of the stage was swarmed with miniature hands sticking up, trying to catch a touch of the giant stuffed tomato costume. Luckily, security was blocking the way. Yes, security. The same black shirts with yellow writing you would see at a rock concert were standing (or kneeling, rather) with their arms outstretched, trying to prevent any breach that could possibly endanger the cast or disrupt the performance. The only thing that made me cringe at this sight was the idea that it would be my son that they would have to heave back into the crowd or drag away to the back of house while he was kicking and shouting obscenities.
Ultimately, we survived. The show ended, we picked up some souvenirs, and we left. But on the way home, I started thinking, "So, this is it?"
Over the last few years, I have started to feel my age and my position as a father. And it's not a bad thing; just different. When I was young, I loved concerts and live theatre. I took every opportunity to enjoy all kinds of genres in a variety of venues. When I was 16, my friends Mike and Robert and I snuck away on a road trip to Kansas City from Concordia to see Lollapalooza. After that, outdoor music festivals became a fixture for me. "Edgefest" in Omaha, "Jayhawk Fest" in Lawrence, and many others...Later, as I became of age to enter bars and clubs, I started seeking out smaller venues (The Beaumont, The Granada, The Uptown) to see musicians and acts that inspired me. B.B. King at the Lied Center, Band of Horses at City Market, Ingrid Michaelson at Knuckleheads...
But the other night, I realized where I was in life. It started with Jiggle Jam at Crown Center. A music festival for kids. Mr. Stinky Feet and They Might Be Giants headlined with arts and crafts and bubble station all around the grounds. We returned sunburned and exhausted, much like the music festivals of my youth. And then, for a "Grown-Up Date Night," I scored tickets to see Green Day at the Sprint Center a couple years ago. It was that night that I realized that I wasn't the hip, young guy I once was. My wife and I spent the entire show standing, trying to hear music from behind a group of screaming twenty-somethings, complaining that it was too loud and that our feet hurt. We tried again last fall, when we went to see Better Than Ezra at Power and Light. This was a lot more relaxed and laid back. Much more our style as of late. And given the era of popularity for this group, we were surrounded by a lot of like-minded people.
But being a dad is fun. And seeing the look at enjoyment on my kids' faces during and after a show in which a girl dressed up as a monkey performs cartwheels around the stage while giant vegetables serenade makes it all worth it. Let the young people have their mainstream shows. Because someday, it will be them echoing the phrase, "I can't believe I am saying this, but I am excited to see Toy Story on Ice."
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Say, What?
One of the beautiful things about being a parent is the opportunity to construct sentences you would otherwise never be able to say...
"Hey! If you want to watch Veggietales, get the disc...Don't try to shove a cucumber into the DVD player!"
"Yes, you're right. A T-Rex could probably beat Spiderman in a fight..unless he teamed up with the Hulk...Wait! Are we talking 'prison rules'?"
"The dog does NOT need a mustache..."
"Get out of the washing machine!"
"Look what's for breakfast! Green eggs and Ham!
"Who put Mater in the toilet?"
"Fine! Just go ahead and try to fit in between the banister rails. But don't get mad when I have to
grease your head up to get it out!"
"Can you wait a second? I can't change your diaper while frying bacon...You'll get burned!"
"I don't know why sometimes I cry while drinking my 'special' coffee in the morning..."
"Yeah, man, I would like to come out with you guys tonight to see the Violent Femmes, but I just warmed up some Spongebob shaped Chef Boyardi and getting ready to snuggle up n the counch to the latest Pixar DVD...OOOH! Great Idea! Why don't you come over here instead?"
"What in the hell is Totoro?"
"What are you doing? You can't eat frozen juice concentrate from the can with a spoon!..." (Note: This is sentence was actually spoken to my son using my wife as a proxy while she was pregnant.)
"I don't care if she's my daughter and I don't care how much shes set her heart on it, I am her father and I am NOT dressing up like a kitty cat for Halloween...Fine! But I'm not wearing the tights!...What? Tights, too?...Okay, fine!"
"I guess daddy IS as pretty as a princess..."
"Transformers are NOT going to blow up your school....Now, go back to sleep..."
"I think the 'Diary of a Wimpy Kid' movies are the best films that have come out in the last few years."
"Well, babies don't start out eating baby food. They start by drinking milk...from the mommy...Well...You know how cows feed the calves?....Yes, that's right with their 'sprayers'...."
"Hey! If you want to watch Veggietales, get the disc...Don't try to shove a cucumber into the DVD player!"
"Yes, you're right. A T-Rex could probably beat Spiderman in a fight..unless he teamed up with the Hulk...Wait! Are we talking 'prison rules'?"
"The dog does NOT need a mustache..."
"Get out of the washing machine!"
"Look what's for breakfast! Green eggs and Ham!
"Who put Mater in the toilet?"
"Fine! Just go ahead and try to fit in between the banister rails. But don't get mad when I have to
grease your head up to get it out!"
"Can you wait a second? I can't change your diaper while frying bacon...You'll get burned!"
"I don't know why sometimes I cry while drinking my 'special' coffee in the morning..."
"Yeah, man, I would like to come out with you guys tonight to see the Violent Femmes, but I just warmed up some Spongebob shaped Chef Boyardi and getting ready to snuggle up n the counch to the latest Pixar DVD...OOOH! Great Idea! Why don't you come over here instead?"
"What in the hell is Totoro?"
"What are you doing? You can't eat frozen juice concentrate from the can with a spoon!..." (Note: This is sentence was actually spoken to my son using my wife as a proxy while she was pregnant.)
"I don't care if she's my daughter and I don't care how much shes set her heart on it, I am her father and I am NOT dressing up like a kitty cat for Halloween...Fine! But I'm not wearing the tights!...What? Tights, too?...Okay, fine!"
"I guess daddy IS as pretty as a princess..."
"Transformers are NOT going to blow up your school....Now, go back to sleep..."
"I think the 'Diary of a Wimpy Kid' movies are the best films that have come out in the last few years."
"Well, babies don't start out eating baby food. They start by drinking milk...from the mommy...Well...You know how cows feed the calves?....Yes, that's right with their 'sprayers'...."
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
I'm a "Dork!"
I am now, officially, in the words of my two oldest children, "a dork." And, even though it stings a bit to hear that piece of nomenclature drivel out of my kids' mouths, I am kind of okay with it. I'm sure, there will be a lot more names thrown my way by them in the next ten years.
I've always been close with my children, and they have always appreciated my ability to act their age. But the school years have hit and they have begun to slowly get consumed by their peers' and the elementary culture's belief that they must "fit in." You can see it in their faces, especially Danny, that it's confusing. They act silly at home; pretending to be dinosaurs in the living room. But when they are waiting with their classmates in the pick-up line in front of their school, they are cracking jokes and sharing secret handshakes. When it's time to climb in the car, they have a "cool kid" walk, as if they have to show their friends that the only reason they are leaving is because they have to...
I find it humorous now. But I'm sure, as the years go by, it will become exponentially worse. Eye rolling, sighs and "whatevers" are in the visible future.
I know we are supposed to tell our kids, "Be yourself." And that's true. We don't want our children to hide behind false images, as it could stifle personal growth and the possibilities of their future. Also, I want my children to have the integrity to stand up for what they believe in.
But for now, a little while longer, there are times when I definitely do not want them to be themselves. If kids under the age of 12 were themselves all the time, the rate of alcoholic parents would increase 1200%. Could you imagine, boys just peeing on trees...in the lobby of the bank? Or a large group of girls just standing in a circle having a contest to see who could shriek longer and louder? And the constant need to do impersonations of their favorite anime martial arts characters all day...every day...
Fitting in is a hopeless pursuit, anyways. Like trying to get a cat to look at itself in the mirror. We work so hard our entire self-aware life to be a piece of the intricate clockwork of society, only to realize years after its too late that we are just as awkward (if not more) than we were at the beginning. I remember my school years were filled with deciding what clothes would be acceptable, what activities to participate in that would not get me ridiculed and what kind of accessories could make my car look cooler. Ultimately, I was a "theatre geek" who drove a Chevy Celebrity and wore cartoon t-shirts under flannel shirts. Suffice it to say, I never really achieved the "fitting in" status.
So, perhaps that's why we insist on telling our kids to be themselves. We are afraid of reliving our own bumbling, awkward, and trivial attempts to fit in vicariously through our children. And, of course, in the eyes of the young, parents don't get it. So, the kids will continue to attempt to fit in and, ultimately, put themselves into embarrassing situations.
But there is a threshold that must be passed by our kids before we, as parents, should really encourage them to be themselves. I guess it's when they hit the age when "themselves" isn't annoying. And that is the day that we become annoying to them. And we are called "dorks."
But can a dork recite all of the scrolling text from all of the Star Wars movies? Or would a dork know that you can sing Emily Dickinson's "Because I Could Not Stop for Death" to the tune of "Gilligan's Island". (I know you're doing it on your head right now). Or is a dork someone who can make himself laugh at an elephant fart joke?
...Well, yes...
But a dork to children is just an adult who is being himself.
I've always been close with my children, and they have always appreciated my ability to act their age. But the school years have hit and they have begun to slowly get consumed by their peers' and the elementary culture's belief that they must "fit in." You can see it in their faces, especially Danny, that it's confusing. They act silly at home; pretending to be dinosaurs in the living room. But when they are waiting with their classmates in the pick-up line in front of their school, they are cracking jokes and sharing secret handshakes. When it's time to climb in the car, they have a "cool kid" walk, as if they have to show their friends that the only reason they are leaving is because they have to...
I find it humorous now. But I'm sure, as the years go by, it will become exponentially worse. Eye rolling, sighs and "whatevers" are in the visible future.
I know we are supposed to tell our kids, "Be yourself." And that's true. We don't want our children to hide behind false images, as it could stifle personal growth and the possibilities of their future. Also, I want my children to have the integrity to stand up for what they believe in.
But for now, a little while longer, there are times when I definitely do not want them to be themselves. If kids under the age of 12 were themselves all the time, the rate of alcoholic parents would increase 1200%. Could you imagine, boys just peeing on trees...in the lobby of the bank? Or a large group of girls just standing in a circle having a contest to see who could shriek longer and louder? And the constant need to do impersonations of their favorite anime martial arts characters all day...every day...
Fitting in is a hopeless pursuit, anyways. Like trying to get a cat to look at itself in the mirror. We work so hard our entire self-aware life to be a piece of the intricate clockwork of society, only to realize years after its too late that we are just as awkward (if not more) than we were at the beginning. I remember my school years were filled with deciding what clothes would be acceptable, what activities to participate in that would not get me ridiculed and what kind of accessories could make my car look cooler. Ultimately, I was a "theatre geek" who drove a Chevy Celebrity and wore cartoon t-shirts under flannel shirts. Suffice it to say, I never really achieved the "fitting in" status.
So, perhaps that's why we insist on telling our kids to be themselves. We are afraid of reliving our own bumbling, awkward, and trivial attempts to fit in vicariously through our children. And, of course, in the eyes of the young, parents don't get it. So, the kids will continue to attempt to fit in and, ultimately, put themselves into embarrassing situations.
But there is a threshold that must be passed by our kids before we, as parents, should really encourage them to be themselves. I guess it's when they hit the age when "themselves" isn't annoying. And that is the day that we become annoying to them. And we are called "dorks."
But can a dork recite all of the scrolling text from all of the Star Wars movies? Or would a dork know that you can sing Emily Dickinson's "Because I Could Not Stop for Death" to the tune of "Gilligan's Island". (I know you're doing it on your head right now). Or is a dork someone who can make himself laugh at an elephant fart joke?
...Well, yes...
But a dork to children is just an adult who is being himself.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Kids are not nerdy enough
I fear for our youth. And I'm not talking about a deep fear of social destruction or drugs and alcohol or even the collapse of financial institutions. These are, of course, something to worry about. No, I'm referring to the fear that our children will not be "nerdy" enough to make an impact on the world as they mature.
Star Wars. When I was growing up, Star Wars was in our blood. We had the action figures, the blankets, even the underoos. We battled with light sabers (cardboard tubes) in the living room. The neighborhood kids would ride their bikes in a perfect X-Wing formation down the street, blasting any tie-fighters (neighborhood animals and girls) we could lock our sights on. Flashlights could be used to display a hologram on the wall to warn rebel sympathizers of an oncoming attack from the Empire. ("Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope.") The two-seater swing with loop handles on the metal swing set in the back yard made a perfect 74-Z Speeder Bike from the forest moon of Endor chase scene in The Return of the Jedi. And of course, I was always Han Solo and our dog, Odie, was Chewbaca and we would sit underneath the picnic table on the patio and we would make "special modifications." Sure, she didn't look like much, but she would make "point five past light speed."
As my generation grew up, we started seeing these things slowly coming to a mild reality for us. Touch-screen tablets that were obviously replicas of the control panel from an Imperial Cruiser. Blue tooth technology became a communicator device that was a viable tool for our generation. Laser scalpels in the O.R. are a nod to the preferred weapon of the Jedi knight. And robots vacuuming your house? I mean, come on! Even the GPS in my car has taken on the role of droid navigator in my Millennium Falcon (Okay, it's a silver KIA, but I still like to pretend).
Note: The only problem with my GPS is the fact that I don't listen to it. Probably, because it has a woman's voice. "I know you want me to turn left, Karen, but I know a short cut. So, why don't you just sit right there, suction-cupped to my dash, and continue to sound adorable." And I can't get over the attitude she gives when I ignore her. "Recalculating." I can almost hear the eye-rolling and a subtle "jackass" under her breath.
Vampires. pirates and wizards. I can't think of any more humiliating genres for kids to have for mental and social provocation. I can understand, slightly, the allure of pirates, as it can prepare children for an post-apocalyptic world in which they will be forced to loot and fight for survival. And a lot of wizard story lines have included the science behind the mysticism, so there might be an opportunity for young minds to explore the possibility of what now seems like magic into some sort of substantial break-throughs. When you think about it, centuries ago, the ability to conduct simple physics-based parlor tricks was perceived as witchcraft.
But everything about these genres creates a dreary, morose look at life. I guess that says a lot about the outlook of today's youth. "Emo" is not only accepted, but actually a mainstream identity for lots of kids. I remember when these kids were the social outcasts and seen as misfits. All black clothes, dyed hair, and a attitude filled with so much apathy that it could suck the life force out of Richard Simmons. "Nothing matters." The un-dead, the cold, stone castle schools, and rickety sailing vessels wandering the unknown earth filled with criminals and miscreants...Even with the oppression of the Empire, we still had the possibility of "A New Hope."
Now don't get me wrong. The Nerds of my day were not seen as mainstream, either. But we had a direction with the fantasy of possibilities. We saw cool things that were yet to be created, and we made them. The true technological revolution was made by the wide-eyed kids from thirty years ago watching the scrolling text fly across the screen and imagining the day when these things could be a real life occurrence.
Now, if only I could get a set of Gamorrean guards to walk with my daughter when she enters the teen years...
Star Wars. When I was growing up, Star Wars was in our blood. We had the action figures, the blankets, even the underoos. We battled with light sabers (cardboard tubes) in the living room. The neighborhood kids would ride their bikes in a perfect X-Wing formation down the street, blasting any tie-fighters (neighborhood animals and girls) we could lock our sights on. Flashlights could be used to display a hologram on the wall to warn rebel sympathizers of an oncoming attack from the Empire. ("Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope.") The two-seater swing with loop handles on the metal swing set in the back yard made a perfect 74-Z Speeder Bike from the forest moon of Endor chase scene in The Return of the Jedi. And of course, I was always Han Solo and our dog, Odie, was Chewbaca and we would sit underneath the picnic table on the patio and we would make "special modifications." Sure, she didn't look like much, but she would make "point five past light speed."
As my generation grew up, we started seeing these things slowly coming to a mild reality for us. Touch-screen tablets that were obviously replicas of the control panel from an Imperial Cruiser. Blue tooth technology became a communicator device that was a viable tool for our generation. Laser scalpels in the O.R. are a nod to the preferred weapon of the Jedi knight. And robots vacuuming your house? I mean, come on! Even the GPS in my car has taken on the role of droid navigator in my Millennium Falcon (Okay, it's a silver KIA, but I still like to pretend).
Note: The only problem with my GPS is the fact that I don't listen to it. Probably, because it has a woman's voice. "I know you want me to turn left, Karen, but I know a short cut. So, why don't you just sit right there, suction-cupped to my dash, and continue to sound adorable." And I can't get over the attitude she gives when I ignore her. "Recalculating." I can almost hear the eye-rolling and a subtle "jackass" under her breath.
Vampires. pirates and wizards. I can't think of any more humiliating genres for kids to have for mental and social provocation. I can understand, slightly, the allure of pirates, as it can prepare children for an post-apocalyptic world in which they will be forced to loot and fight for survival. And a lot of wizard story lines have included the science behind the mysticism, so there might be an opportunity for young minds to explore the possibility of what now seems like magic into some sort of substantial break-throughs. When you think about it, centuries ago, the ability to conduct simple physics-based parlor tricks was perceived as witchcraft.
But everything about these genres creates a dreary, morose look at life. I guess that says a lot about the outlook of today's youth. "Emo" is not only accepted, but actually a mainstream identity for lots of kids. I remember when these kids were the social outcasts and seen as misfits. All black clothes, dyed hair, and a attitude filled with so much apathy that it could suck the life force out of Richard Simmons. "Nothing matters." The un-dead, the cold, stone castle schools, and rickety sailing vessels wandering the unknown earth filled with criminals and miscreants...Even with the oppression of the Empire, we still had the possibility of "A New Hope."
Now don't get me wrong. The Nerds of my day were not seen as mainstream, either. But we had a direction with the fantasy of possibilities. We saw cool things that were yet to be created, and we made them. The true technological revolution was made by the wide-eyed kids from thirty years ago watching the scrolling text fly across the screen and imagining the day when these things could be a real life occurrence.
Now, if only I could get a set of Gamorrean guards to walk with my daughter when she enters the teen years...
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Do You Take This Man?
"Do you take this man?"
That is such a tricky question for women on their wedding day. Most women don't think about the impact of these words. My wife answered this question emphatically...But I think as the next few years progressed, she changed her mind. Not to say that she regretted marrying me. Rather, the definition of "this" man.
Men are, for an easy explanation, simple. We process one thing at a time. We laugh at fart jokes. We like anything that involves speed and/or destruction. We will dress our children in whatever is on top in their drawers without thought of whether it fits or matches. We put our forks and spoons into the dishwasher in whatever direction we are holding them at the time. We sort clothes on laundry day by what we need the most (sweaters, blue jeans, towels and underwear all in the same load). When we say, "Nothing," in response to a question about what we are thinking, we mean just that: nothing.
And these things drive women gonzo. And so, men are a constant project for improvement to women. We have gone our entire lives thinking that what we are doing is correct. And it is the job of the woman to re-train us and break the news slowly that we are not . Video games are no longer hobbies. Instead, window shopping trips to Bed, Bath and Beyond have replaced leading a platoon against a horde of advancing Nazis. Clipping toenails is apparently not an event to be shared in the public view of the living room. And, of course, failing to dust every nook and cranny will eventually cause the frame to snap into pieces and the house to collapse upon itself.
But when we stand on that altar, we haven't been taught yet. That's why our smile is wide and goofy on that day. We are receiving, in our minds, a public acceptance to our behaviors. "I take THIS man." If we knew that a clean garage would fall entirely on our shoulders and that we were not going to be allowed to maintain our paralyzing fear of spiders, our face might show a little more self-preparation and awareness. Like Evel Knievel getting ready to make the largest jump of his life, the groom would take a couple hops, shake his arms and give a large breath of determination. "Let's do this!" would more likely be their response rather than "I do."
I believe that the questions in the wedding ceremony should be altered:
"Do you promise to take this man, and make him better and a more productive member of society? To have (working on projects around the house) and to hold (accountable for all of his shortcomings) for as long as you both shall live? (Which, statistically for him, will be longer, because he won't end up injuring himself doing something insanely stupid.)"
"And, do you take her as your wife. To have (to tell you to do the most obvious of tasks just to make sure you survive another day) and to hold (her purse as she parades you around from antique store to craft show to women's clothing department in an attempt to demonstrate what 'style' is) as long as you both shall live? (Which, statistically for her, will be shorter than you, as she will use so much energy just trying to keep you functioning.)"
Or perhaps when asked, "Do you take this man?" The woman's response should simply be, "Well, not THIS man. But the man I'm going to turn him into? Sure!"
That is such a tricky question for women on their wedding day. Most women don't think about the impact of these words. My wife answered this question emphatically...But I think as the next few years progressed, she changed her mind. Not to say that she regretted marrying me. Rather, the definition of "this" man.
Men are, for an easy explanation, simple. We process one thing at a time. We laugh at fart jokes. We like anything that involves speed and/or destruction. We will dress our children in whatever is on top in their drawers without thought of whether it fits or matches. We put our forks and spoons into the dishwasher in whatever direction we are holding them at the time. We sort clothes on laundry day by what we need the most (sweaters, blue jeans, towels and underwear all in the same load). When we say, "Nothing," in response to a question about what we are thinking, we mean just that: nothing.
And these things drive women gonzo. And so, men are a constant project for improvement to women. We have gone our entire lives thinking that what we are doing is correct. And it is the job of the woman to re-train us and break the news slowly that we are not . Video games are no longer hobbies. Instead, window shopping trips to Bed, Bath and Beyond have replaced leading a platoon against a horde of advancing Nazis. Clipping toenails is apparently not an event to be shared in the public view of the living room. And, of course, failing to dust every nook and cranny will eventually cause the frame to snap into pieces and the house to collapse upon itself.
But when we stand on that altar, we haven't been taught yet. That's why our smile is wide and goofy on that day. We are receiving, in our minds, a public acceptance to our behaviors. "I take THIS man." If we knew that a clean garage would fall entirely on our shoulders and that we were not going to be allowed to maintain our paralyzing fear of spiders, our face might show a little more self-preparation and awareness. Like Evel Knievel getting ready to make the largest jump of his life, the groom would take a couple hops, shake his arms and give a large breath of determination. "Let's do this!" would more likely be their response rather than "I do."
I believe that the questions in the wedding ceremony should be altered:
"Do you promise to take this man, and make him better and a more productive member of society? To have (working on projects around the house) and to hold (accountable for all of his shortcomings) for as long as you both shall live? (Which, statistically for him, will be longer, because he won't end up injuring himself doing something insanely stupid.)"
"And, do you take her as your wife. To have (to tell you to do the most obvious of tasks just to make sure you survive another day) and to hold (her purse as she parades you around from antique store to craft show to women's clothing department in an attempt to demonstrate what 'style' is) as long as you both shall live? (Which, statistically for her, will be shorter than you, as she will use so much energy just trying to keep you functioning.)"
Or perhaps when asked, "Do you take this man?" The woman's response should simply be, "Well, not THIS man. But the man I'm going to turn him into? Sure!"
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