Category Archives: Family Nights

Father of the Year Moment

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Even though we were born on the same day in the same year, I don’t have much interest in Alec Baldwin or his views. Hence I enjoyed a mild schadenfreude last Friday when I saw headlines about him leaving an angry voicemail for his 11-year-old daughter. It was kind of funny for him to find himself the target of all the Tsk-Tsking for a change.

I didn’t have time to read the articles, though, so it wasn’t until I was driving home and listening to Jason Lewis that I heard the recording of the conversation as well as the background that explained that Baldwin was upset because his daughter, who doesn’t live with him, had developed the habit of not answering her phone for the pre-appointed phone calls that are part of his visitation rights and his efforts to parent from across the country. Given that understanding, I was more sympathetic to him as I listened to the tape and heard him venting the frustration, hurt and humiliation he was experiencing because of his daughter’s behavior and thought that it didn’t reflect well on her that she’d act that way and then even turn over the recording to the media.

“That’s a child,” I thought, “with issues.” Not the least of which is being called a “selfish pig” by your father. I couldn’t help but think about tape and the relationship after I got out of the car and it suddenly occurred to me that Baldwin’s outburst, while initiated by his daughter, was all about how she had made him feel, what he had to put up, what efforts he had made and what he wasn’t going to put with. In short, it was all about HIM, and I thought that selfishness perhaps runs in the family.

Not that my children haven’t been the catalysts for some of my own tirades and that my own rants are known for their flawless reason and selfless eloquence, but it occurred to me that the things that have most upset me (and let me emphasize that there have been very few of these occasions) are times when they were inconsiderate of others or short-sighted in their actions. My concerns then were not in the offense that they may have done to me or to others (even if inadvertent) but in terms of the quality of their character and the potentially negative consequences they could experience as they grew up if their offense wasn’t recognized and dealt with. Part and parcel of that has been to inculcate in them a second-nature awareness of how their words and actions affect others and how empathy is better than sympathy.

Last week the Fundamentals in Film class that I teach to teenage boys watched To Kill a Mockingbird, and our discussion during and after the movie was about courage, commitment to do what is right and the part that prejudice and preconceptions plays even today in events such as the Duke lacrosse case or even the shootings at Virginia Tech. Perhaps the greatest lesson, however, is Atticus’ belief that you can’t really know a person until you’ve walked around in his skin for a little bit; i.e., put yourself in that person’s shoes and go for a little walk. Sociopaths like the Virginia Tech shooter (I won’t even use his name, given his desire for notoriety) are completely wrapped up in themselves and their feelings and have not a whit’s worth of concern or empathy for their victims and their families. Mass murder takes it to the extreme, but our own lack of awareness can also be devastating to others and (to be selfish) a source of great regret for ourselves later.

Empathy doesn’t automatically excuse or justify another’s actions, especially if they are heinous, but it can help us to understand them and to ponder our own shortcomings in a beneficial, not abusive, way. I empathize with Alec Baldwin, but I hope this experience and lesson (painful as it may be) ultimately has a positive effect on him and his daughter.

Too old to rock and roll

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I haven’t used my bedside clock-radio as an alarm for a couple of years now, but most days I still wake up with a song in my head. I don’t know why I have words and a tune in my head when I open my eyes. Often it’s a song that we sang in church that week, but sometimes it’s a surprise from the vaults – an unexpected appearance of a song I haven’t heard in 20 years. I did download a bunch of Jethro Tull songs over the weekend, though, so this morning I wasn’t shocked when the first thing through my head was “He was too old to rock and roll, but he was too young to die.”

The very next thing through my head was, “Hey – it’s my birthday!”

I tipped my mental hat to the sense of humor of my internal DJ, then tried to reassemble myself for the shuffle/limp/crick-crack into the bathroom. Time was when “it’s my birthday!” would be the first thing I thought of, and I’d be out of the bed like a skyrocket. Now I’m more like a NASA rocket straining to break free of the earth’s gravity, while dropping parts behind me. I still get there, though.

For all the anticipation I had for my birthdays when I was a kid, there’s not too many that stick out in my memory today. That will happen, I suppose, when there’s been so many of them. There was the party I had when I was in first grade when one of my strapping classmates bodily lifted my mother off of the ground. As I further recall, I think he was shaving by sixth grade and doing time by eighth. That was also the party where one of the girls in attendance threw up on the table during the cake and ice cream.

Another time I had the honor of sharing my birthday with the Tornado Super Outbreak in 1974 that ravaged the midwest. I think that party might have been held in our basement. Later, April 3, 1996 was also the day when Unabomber Ted Kaczynski was arrested in Montana, which explains why he didn’t make it to my party and never called. Perhaps most ingloriously, though, is that I share the same birthdate (day and year) with Hollywood nutjob Alec Baldwin. And I thought my inner DJ had a sense of humor.

Anyway, this morning I made it through my morning toilette without any especially profound thoughts or insights on mortality and went downstairs where my daughters soon joined me for their tributes (see Tiger Lilly’s previous post). The Mall Diva is still especially giddy about giving (and receiving) gifts, but it was nice to note that she has gained more self-control since the time when she was four-years-old and burst into my room with a gaily-wrapped box and a hearty “Happy Birthday, Daddy – it’s a camera!”

Of course, the girls are the two best presents I’ve ever received and are the gifts that keep on giving (and not just with presents). Watching them grow up has been a tremendous return on the years I’ve paid into the process. If I can no longer lift them over my head by their ankles it is only because I’m saving myself for more prodigious feats of strength such as walking them down the aisle or launching them into the world. And I wonder what the musical accompaniment to that will be.

Funnies…

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The reason we continue to get the Strib at home is because we all read the comics. I read every strip, even the ones I don’t like because it’s easier to read them than skip over them. A strip that I do like is “Get Fuzzy,” and one that I like sometimes is “Stone Soup.” The other day after reading these I said outloud, “If I lived in a house with Bucky Kat from ‘Get Fuzzy’ and Holly from ‘Stone Soup,’ at least one of them would be in a bag down by the river.”

One of the three women of the house said she kind of liked “Stone Soup.”

I said, “If I lived with all those women it would drive me nuts for sure!”

Wa-a-i-i-it a minute…

Hey Thirteen

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Breaking news…

There’s about to be another teenager in the world as Tiger Lilly turns 13 on Saturday.

Who knows what she’ll do next, but age has never been much of a hindrance to her. She’s a blue belt in Tae Kwan Do and on the demonstration team for her dojo, has tested at college levels on her SATs, has a couple of works of fiction she’s writing (and keeping under wraps so far) and is the star pupil at the Stewart Academy for Girls. She’s also already been to China on one missions trip and is scheduled to go to Romania this summer on another, this time without a parent. Oh, and she’s a blogger (visit the Tiger Lilly link in the right sidebar)!

There appears to be little left for her to accomplish, but I’m sure she’ll think of something. Happy birthday, Sweetie!

Mall Diva- Missing in Action

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Hey guess what you guys? I was MIA since dinnertime and I didn’t even know it! I mean, I knew where I was and I told the parental units where I was going to be, so I thought it was all good. I guess it was just another one of those “Oh dang it, I forgot!” moments.

The plan was for me to go from work to a friend’s house to do hair and they would feed me and we’d watch American Idol. First episode I’ve seen in a long time.

I was expecting a call from an old beauty school friend, but I had put my phone on silent. I wasn’t surprised when my phone showed that I had messages. But I was surprisd when I listened to them! “Faith, this is your mother. Where ARE YOU??” After that were messages from my friends that my parents had alerted to my “disappearance”. Oh, and I never did get the message I was actually expecting.

So anyway, I’m obviously not missing and everything is fine, but I really don’t know whether to feel extremely loved or a little bit paranoid about the fact that I can’t be gone for a couple hours before they send out a search party.

There’s your most exciting blog o’ the day!

She Speaks

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Awwww! I feel so special! You miss me!!

Right at this moment writing is a little difficult, as Felix is jealous of “the other” laptop and is trying to compete for his place.

I really haven’t been up to much except the normal stuff, like:
working, sleeping, eating, singing, shopping, etc, etc.

Let’s see, I had the oil in my car changed last Sunday… um, my mom’s been making me cook lately… I cleaned my room…Oh! I did a haircut for “Locks of Love” a couple weeks ago! Guess how many inches I chopped off? Twenty-three. Yep.

I’m going to be a bridesmaid in June. My co-worker is getting married. She and her fiance went to middle school together and were each other’s first crush. Then in ninth grade he moved away. They did meet up once more a few years later, but after that she didn’t see him again until last September at a wedding. They started a long-distance relationship (he lives in Texas) and he proposed on December 4th. We (the peeps at the salon) are pretty sure she’ll be moving. I know this story practically inside-out. That’s what happens when you work in a beauty shop.

And now for something completely different!

There is something that I hear about almost every day that amuses me.
Global warming. It’s true, Minnesota (or at least the Twin Cities and surrounding area) has not gotten a really good snow in quite a while; though I’m sure “global warming” was the first thing that popped into the heads of Oklahomians when they got ten inches.
It’s all perspective.

Save the polar bears!!!

Life is a highway

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One of the things about blogging is that occasionally you can do a little self-indulgent interior-monologuing:

We were bombing down the interstate the other day, the Mall Diva in the driver’s seat, cruise control, good visibility and dry pavement laid out straight in front of us just the way the engineer drew it up. We were going fast, perhaps a little faster than allowed, but the road appeared to roll by langourously with the green highway signs occasionally marking progress as the numbers to our expected destination got steadily smaller.

Life is often like that. It goes by fast, but you get so used to it that you hardly notice. The signposts — birthdays, events — come and go pretty much as expected, letting you know you’re getting closer to whatever is ahead, and large sections of it (at least when you get to be my age) are flat and straight. Every so often, though, you come to a curve; a big, sweeping change of course. You’re still on the same highway, still going the same place, it’s just that this is “the way” and you follow it as the compass (and sometimes your tummy) swings around. It’s not unexpected, if you check the map you’ll see that the curve is clearly marked, but you might be surprised to find that you’ve come so far, so soon.

It just takes the slightest turn of your hands to stay on course; similarly a simple thing, such as a short conversation, can mark a turning point and the familiar road starts to look a little different. Our family swept into one such curve the other day. I’m talking about life, not the highway, but the natural inclination is still to let off the gas a little, slow down, maintain control — if I were in the driver’s seat, that is.

All in all, it’s a good thing, but — sorry to be a tease — I can’t write any more about it at this time. Actually, I think I’m going to write plenty (this, for example) as I sense that a very philosophical vein has been tapped; it’s just that I don’t expect to post any thing further about this particular subject for some time. Everyone is well, everything is secure — did that last sign say anything about there being a rest area up ahead?

Back to other blogging nonsense tomorrow.

Cat-astrophe averted

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Our holiday houseguest list started with my mother-in-law. She, in-turn, attracted the outlaw-in-law, who brought along the pitbull-in-law. They’re all generally nice enough, but as with most relationships it still pays to watch your fingers.

The dog stays outside for the most part, but joined us all inside for breakfast this morning. She’s a friendly beast that thinks she’s a 50-lb lapdog and has all the inquisitiveness and exuberance of a puppy. Her presence definitely changed the animal dynamic in the house as she tried to be “friends” with the domiciled pets. The guinea-pig, who has always been oblivious of our cat, clutched his chest and buried himself inside his plastic pig-loo despite already being inside a cage. The bird, also caged, got verrrrwy, verrrwy quiet even though she is best-known for her sputtering, Al Franken-like rants (her diction is a little bit better). Someone thoughtfully sequestered the cat in the basement before letting the dog in, so his initial reaction was hard to judge.

After being rebuffed by the other pets, the pitbull became completely fixated on the door to the basement, snuffling, prancing and whining. Now, the basement has everything the cat needs to make himself comfortable; his food dish, litter box and plenty of his favorite soft spots to sleep upon. We always shut him down there whenever we take the bird out for social interaction. You’d think that with all the comforts and conveniences close at hand, and a hairy, slavering beast on the other side of the door, the cat would be content to lie low. Something in his felinity, however, determined that if we wanted him in one place, then he wanted to be anywhere but there. So, when my mother-in-law accidentally opened the basement door, he leaped to freedom, perhaps in the hopes of catching the bird uncaged and unawares.

It would have been funny to have seen his face the moment he realized his miscalculation. Instead I had to settle the next instant for the bug-eyed, brushy-tailed look of terror as he came peeling around the corner into the living room looking for any high ground. Fortunately for me, I was leaning back in my chair instead of standing up so instead of leaping on my head he went for the top of the piano instead while the dog’s owner caught the animal’s head between his knees to keep her from continuing the hot pursuit. The Mall Diva swooped in and collected her cat and whisked him to safety in her room, his eyes the size of quarters and his back toes spread out like rakes. Order was soon restored and life, fortunately, went on.

The holidays can be so stressful.