Welcome Home, Kids. See You Later.

August 10, 2010 Leave a comment

Last Friday, my two kids came back from four weeks at sleep-away camp.  We picked them up around lunch time, went out for a quick bite at Moe’s, and then headed home.  It was probably around 2:00pm when we got back to the house.

By 2:30pm, the house was back to its pre-camp rhythms.  Both kids were on Facebook.  My son was simultaneously configuring iTunes to sync up his iPhone for the first time in a month.  Text messages were flying back and forth between them and their friends, and plans were being made for that evening.  Indeed, despite just a few hours sleep the night before, my son went out with his friends to see The Other Guys that night.

In reality, as other parents know, the Facebook and the texting started long before they got home.  My son received his iPhone back as the bus left camp to return to St. Louis and had been on Facebook ever since.  My daughter got her phone back at the bus, courtesy of my wife.  There had been little conversation with the kids during the ride from Moe’s to home, as their heads were buried in their phones.

Common Scene at Our House. But That's O.K.

(The only thing that seemed odd to me is that they were texting and communicating on Facebook with the very kids they were with the previous four weeks.  There are some things I won’t understand as a parent.)

Our family had quickly settled right back to where we were on July 11, the night before the kids left for camp.  It’s as if all was right back in place.  That meant that we had to say goodbye to our kids once again.

We say goodbye as they go off with their friends.  We say goodbye as their friends come over to our house, and they huddle in the basement playing video games (boys) or in the bathroom trying out make-up (girls).  We say goodbye as they head off to marching band practice, to ice hockey practice and to cheerleading practice, all of which have started before classes.  Next week, we will say goodbye as they head to school, and we head to work.

As parents, we want to say goodbye.  We know that being online, participating in activities and socializing are what being 12 and being 15 is about.  We know that family activities will happen more rarely as time goes on.  We know we need to plan those activities and family dinners well in advance.

So, as we move towards the start of another school year our kids are back, and they are gone.  Life is as it should be.

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Lamenting the Disappearance of Kids’ Summer Vacation

August 3, 2010 Leave a comment

Am I the only one, or has everyone else noticed that many kids’ summer vacations have disappeared?

I’m not referring to the trimester system that lacks a summer vacation at all.  I’m referring to the fact that between academics and extra-curricular activities occurring year-round, kids no longer get any time off.  And, if they do take time-off, they can be punished.

I got to thinking about this while reading about the conflict between the Washington Redskins and defensive lineman Albert Haynesworth, the Redskins’ highest-paid player.  Haynesworth is not allowed to take part in team training camp practices until he passes a fitness test.  He must pass the fitness test because he did not participate in the Redskins’ off-season conditioning program.   He was, in fact, the only Redskin that did not participate in this program.  Interestingly, the program is not mandatory; it’s voluntary.  Nonetheless Haynesworth is being singled out for not attending.

Haynesworth’s plight (for which I have no sympathy as he pocketed a $21 million bonus check on April 1) is, unfortunately, not dissimilar from situations encountered by school age kids today.  The difference is that Haynesworth is paid to focus on football year-round.  Kids in school are not paid, but can still suffer similar consequences if they decide not to participate in off-season activities.

It used to be that summer school was populated by those that failed courses in the prior year.  It used to be that the football team would start practicing a few weeks before school started, and the marching band would go to band camp for a week in August.  It used to be that only outstanding athletes would play their sports year-round.  Not any more.

And it’s a shame.

Instead of going to summer camp or hanging at the pool or getting a job, more and more kids are giving up their vacations to get ahead in academics or get ahead in sports.  Many times, like Haynesworth, they seem to have a choice, but really don’t.

If Only Today's Kids Experienced What Calvin Did

In our school district, if students want to take advanced electives junior and senior year to have on their resumé for college applications, they must first take the intro courses.  To find room for the intro courses, they have to complete required courses.  When do they complete those required courses?  In summer school.  If they don’t do this and don’t take more advanced courses, they’ve reduced their chances of getting into top schools.

The competitiveness and complexity of sports have driven many schools to have summer practices or camps.  Like the Redskins, these camps are “voluntary.”  Like the Redskins, players can be “punished” for not attending, in that they’ll be well behind the rest of the team.  Unlike the Redskins, however, many of these practices or camps charge a fee to attend because they are off-season.  What a double-whammy for kids and parents!

Kids and parents are then forced to make difficult choices.

What are the implications for not attending those mandatory voluntary hockey practices in July to go on a family vacation to celebrate your grandparents’ 50th wedding anniversary?  Will the player fall behind, get demoted to JV, or get banished from the team entirely?

What if your daughter skips the 2nd week of cheerleading practice to attend summer camp with the same girls she has for the past 8 summers?  Will the coach really kick her off the squad?

I understand the coaches’ desire to win.  I understand, therefore, why varsity basketball teams play in summer leagues together, why cheerleading teams have eight-hour choreography sessions in mid-July, and why football teams are on the field all summer.  It’s a zero-sum game.  Once one team does it, they all do.

I also know times are different.  Back in the day, all pro athletes has off-season jobs.  Yogi Berra was once the head waiter at an Italian restaurant here in St. Louis.  Mickey Mantle spent a summer in the mines near his home of Commerce, Oklahoma.  Football star Jim Brown was once a marketing rep for Pepsi.  Now, athletes are paid to focus on their sport all year.

Of course, kids are not paid to focus on their sport or on academics all year.  In fact, they aren’t paid at all.

Let’s give them their summer vacations back and let them enjoy the peaceful summers like we did.  They’ll join the rat race soon enough.  Why push them there now?

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Parents, Kids, and Concerts – The Cycle Continues

July 6, 2010 Leave a comment

Last week, I wrote my Tuesday Family post about being embarrassed when I called the band 311 “Three-One-One” and not “Three-Eleven.”  This week, my son attended the 311 concert, and the event triggered yet another moment where I became my parents, even if just for an instant.

The 311 concert, which also included the bands Offspring and Pepper, took place this past Friday at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater, a spring/summer outdoor venue near St. Louis where you can get reserved seats or you can sit on the “lawn,” which in this case is simply a very large hill.  My wife purchased 8 tickets for my son and his friends for his birthday, as he turns 15 in less than a week.  (Before you think “wow, that’s an expensive party,” you should know there were price breaks on four-ticket blocks.)

Concerts -- From Dad in 1981 . . .

This wasn’t the first concert our son attended.  In 2008 and 2009, he attended something called “Pointfest,” which is a day/evening long concert event sponsored by 105.7 The Point, a local radio station, at the same Verizon Wireless Amphitheater. Both those times, however, a parents of one of his friends spent the day at the concert as a sort of chaperon.  I also took him and two friends to see AC/DC at the Scottrade Center in early 2009.  This time, however, he was going without a chaperon, and that was a bit scary for me.

Going to a concert without a chaperon is certainly not a major milestone in one’s life, such as a bar mitzvah, graduation or driver’s license, but it did cause me to pause to recall my own concert history.  While in high school, I saw Bruce Springsteen twice (The River and then Born in the USA), The Rolling Stones Tattoo You tour, and The Who (1st farewell tour!!).  I also will admit to seeing Journey and The Cars.  All of these concerts were in the old Capital Centre outside Washington, D.C., and none were attended by my parents.

So, as my wife and I sped away after dropping off my son and friends, I had three thoughts.  First, I wondered, “What type of crazy music is this?”  Second, I thought, “Drug dealers are going to descend upon him.”  Third, I realized, “God, I’ve become my parents yet again.”

I really didn’t want to be negative about my son’s music tastes.  His tastes don’t have to mimic mine.  Never mind that I had never heard of 311 or Offspring (again – see last week’s post).  The rosters of the two Pointfests he attended were rife with bands that I had never heard of.  In May 2008, the headliners were Serj Tankian, Shinedown, Killswitch Engage and Filter.  In May 2009, the headliners were Seether, Shinedown (again!), Puddle of Mudd, Bullet for My Valentine, and Apocalyptica.  For me, these don’t have the same cache as Bruce Springsteen or The Who.  At least my parents knew who they were when I attended those bands’ concerts.

. . . to Son in 2010

But, in doing research for this post, I also looked at the roster for the first Pointfest in 1993.   Bands I know played:  They Might Be Giants, Midnight Oil, and Aimee Mann (from ‘Til Tuesday).  In 1994, the Violent Femmes and the Smithereens played.  (Wait!  I have their albums.)   The Ramones played in 1995, and Cheap Trick played in 1996.  Most interesting, however, is that 311 played Pointfest in 1994, 1996 and 2000.  I may not know 311 or their music, but there isn’t be any question that they have a following and some staying power.

I decided not to make any assumptions based on ignorance.  I had visions of my grandparents making similar judgments about Elvis or the Beatles.

As far at the drug dealers, I had some legitimate concerns.  In my concert-going days, I had experienced witnessed joints being passed up and down rows.  Then at the AC/DC concert, two guys in front of us lit up what smelled like pot (or so I’m told).   I really didn’t know what to expect last weekend.  This became one of those moments of trust, where, as a parent, you have to assume that you’ve raised your kids well.  I guess my folks trusted me.

Sure enough, when we returned to pick up the kids four hours later, I picked up the scent of pot (or what I’m told is the scent) in the parking lot as we waited.  Our son and his friends emerged and looked no worse for wear.  They were tired and a bit deaf, but not the least bit under the influence of anything.

So the cycle of concerts began anew – from the Stones to the Who to Bruce Springsteen to . . . 311 and the Offspring?  Maybe so.

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Golfing With My Parents on July 4

July 4, 2010 Leave a comment

On this July 4, it’s time to take a break from the World Cup, from free agency in both the NBA and NHL, and from the discussion of whether Stephen Strasburg should be in baseball’s all-star game.

Because July 4 is a day that families spend together, I’ve decided to post about the round of golf I played with my son and parents in Delaware. It was a six-hour (!) round of golf in a hot, humid, bug-infested environment.  But it was also an example of sport bringing together multiple family generations.

The golf wasn’t good. My dad shot 108, and he was at least 10 strokes better than me. I had given up scoring on the fourth hole, so I honestly don’t know my score.

The View from the Driving Range on July 4

I had some real Caddyshack moments on the course.  At first, I felt like we were at Bushwood Country Club itself when loud music blared from across the cove as I and my collared shirt grabbed golf balls from a well-formed pyramid on the driving range. Get the picture?

My son played like Judge Smails’ nephew Spaulding (Sorry, Caddyshack aficionados, that’s the only similarity). And my dad was a bit like Judge Smails himself, in that he’s a stickler for the rules and for fast play.

But, to be fair, the day was about the time we spent together.

It was about my son and his grandma riding in the same cart (she with lit Marlboro menthol in hand) and laughing as she explains what a FISH golf shot is (fuck it’s still here).

It was about my dad, just like a dad should,  telling me that it was ok when I plunked one in the water (never mind I’m 43 and didn’t really care about the lost ball).

It was about my mom, just like a mom should, telling me not to drink beer on the course because it dehydrated you (I drunk one anyway).

It was about my son, just like a 15-year-old should, actively and loudly washing his ball as his grandma tried to tee off.  His grandma said it was ok, and his grandpa took the opportunity explain golf etiquette, just like they each should.

And it was about the sneer my mom gave me when I asked if my son could drive the cart, which is against club rules, yet happily letting him drive a few holes later, just as a grandma should.

There was no family celebration over a hole-in-one or even a chip-in. There was no emotional hug on the 18th green. By the time my dad and I putted out on 18, my mom and son were safely in my folks’ air-conditioned house, having left after the 13th hole.

I left the course knowing that my son will remember this day with his grandparents, just as I remember a day driving the cart for my dad’s dad. And someday, when I play golf with him and his son or daughter, he’ll tell them about this day with fond memories.

He’ll probably compare me to my dad or my mom or both. I will probably deserve it. That will be fine with me.

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It’s Not Three-One-One. It’s Three-Eleven. Who Knew?

June 29, 2010 1 Comment

I hit an important milestone as a father last week.  It was inevitable, but I was trying to hold it off as long as I could.

As of last week, I am officially and completely out of touch with the music my son listens to, so much so, that I embarrassed myself in front of his friends.

The Band 311

My wife and I bought tickets for our son and friends to attend a concert for his birthday.  Last week, I was driving my son and his friends somewhere (probably to the mall).  Trying to make conversation and trying to show I was cool, I said, “So, you guys are going to see Offspring and Three-One-One next week, right?”

The next thing I know is there is snickering in the back seat, and my son turns to me from the passenger seat and says calmly, “Dad, it’s Three-Eleven.”

How was I supposed to know that the band 311 isn’t Three-One-One, but Three-Eleven?  Couldn’t it have been Three-Hundred-Eleven just as easily?

This had never happened before.  There are no such pronunciation issues with Offspring or Avenged Sevenfold or System of a Down or Gogol Bordello.  There are spelling issues with bands such as Gorillaz, but I never really write these band names down.  There are also odd moments, such as when I asked my son if he knows who Nikolai Gogol was.  No idea of course.

This scene of “dad-trying-to-be-cool-embarrassment” repeats itself generation after generation.  The other night Jay Leno explained how his dad always talked about “The Rolling Beatles.”  Parents of my generation often referred to “Earth, Fire and Wind” or “REO Stationwagon” and were thoroughly confused by the Who, the Guess Who, and Yes.

The closest thing to my gaffe that I recall was when a parent pronounced R.E.M. as one word that rhymes with hem and gem and them.

Led Zeppelin IV

Within days of this happening, however, my son helped me forget my naming mistake and made me very proud.  He came bounding up from our newly renovated basement and said, “Dad, I just played Led Zeppelin through the new speakers on one of your records.  Stairway to Heaven is beast mode.”

That’s right – beast mode.  That’s a very positive comment.  Trust me.  I almost cried.

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