Tag Archives: parenting

Space Travel

Posted on by
Reply

Ok, no more “t’was the night before” parodies.

Today, I introduced my son to Star Trek: The Next Generation.  He thought it was cool but couldn’t believe that Star Trek (at least the original series) preceded Star Wars and — Heavens!! — The Clone Wars.

He loves the look of the Starship Enterprise (I think he will be disappointed with the original series’ ship) and wanted to learn about all the classes of starships (there are websites cataloguing the fictional fleets of human and alien ships — who knew?) and he had a field day looking up warp drives and matter/anti-matter things.  (I guess; I didn’t look because my eyes glazed over with all the data.)

My son was ready to watch the entire Star Trek: TNG marathon today; I was not.  Not only would I be a lazy and bad parent, but when you watch shows as a parent, you notice the sexual innuendos, etc., that never before fazed you.  And you wonder about the overtly sexual costumes (especially on the original series) and wonder how much is lost — or found — on the kids.  The episode we saw featured an incident with the Farenghi — a misogynous species (they don’t talk directly to women and women aren’t deserving of clothes).  As a parent, I wasn’t so sure that the writers did enough of a job smacking down these creatures for their hatred of women.  And, of course, time-honored feminine wiles saved the day.  So cliché.

But the thing that made it all worthwhile?  My son thinks I know A LOT about space travel now and wants me to watch every Star Wars: The Clone Wars episode to discuss insights.

Wow, do I have much studying to do.  Yet I will boldly go where I have never gone before if only to be a heroine in my son’s eyes.  “Lay in a course for the Alpha Quadrant, my young son, Warp 5.  Engage!”

Share

My son’s most excellent adventure

Posted on by
Reply

My son is an intrepid traveler.  His partner in crime is Cousin Gentle.

They boldly go where no one on our family has gone before — Staten Island. 

Now Staten Island — that is RED state country.  We descend from the red palette, too, but closer to the blue–red (socialist) part of the spectrum.  The kind of red that would make today’s red staters would prefer to be dead (better than be red).

And these two did not just go to the ferry stop on the “other side” and then hurry back to the safety of our (Manhattan) island sanctuary.  No, these two Upper West Siders took the SIR — Staten Island Rail — to the end of the line, Tottenville.  You might be surprised that there are over 20 stops on the SIR and it takes an hour to go the length of that island.  

They stopped for pizza and the proprietor asked Cousin Gentle, “what country are you from?”  Cousin Gentle replied, “the Upper West Side”.  The proprietor nodded that he had heard of it.  Who knew you didn’t need a space rocket to visit Mars?

Apparently, Tottenville has a shore line and beach area and my son waded into the ocean not yet sullied by the oil spill.  Over dinner (back home in the bosom of our effete, white wine sipping, brie cheese eating, intellectual elitist Upper West Side), my son said, “Tottenville is just like East Hampton!!”  I looked at Cousin Gentle who whispered that he didn’t say that while in Staten Island (because those are fighting words there) and I checked that FOPOB (father of partner of blogger) didn’t hear that statement because, well, FOPOB has a beach house in East Hampton.  Honestly, I would rather risk offending FOPOB than inciting people to riot on Staten Island. 

There are so many sociological layers to my son’s statement.  I, however, will go with “my son, the pampered egalitarian”.  And leave it at that.

Share

25th Reunion

Posted on by
Reply

I have 5 weeks until my 25th college reunion.  I have 5 weeks to be slim, prosperous, toned and, maybe, un-gray.

Nothing like waiting until the last minute.  I was a crammer in college — I was still buying the books from the class syllabus three days before the final exam.  (And my GPA showed it.)

I am 46 and, with 5 weeks to go, here is my status:

Slim:  I am much slimmer now than I was in college, even though I have gained “more than a few” pounds in recent years.  I call it the Recession 8.  Better than the Freshman 15.  (I had come in with the pre-Freshman 30, so I don’t have college to blame.)  But, in truth, I look pretty slim.  So, √ in that box.

Prosperous:  Ok, things were better a few years ago, before people on Wall Street got stupid and greedy. But, while I don’t stack up to the crazy high-profile entrepreneurs in my class, I am really fortunate.  So, √ in that box.

Toned:  I want to be buff.  I don’t look bad, although there is a certain sag to the skin on my legs from my fat days.  And gravity does “weigh down” some erstwhile perky parts.  So no short shorts and no tank tops for me.  Anyway, after a certain age, a person looks ridiculous in that kind of outfit.  I lost this last week to having injured my hip and back (a little arthritis in the hip leads to compensating with other muscles that spasm which leads to crippling pain), and so I think buff is out of the question, but quietly toned is still possible.  So, X in this box (with an “*I don’t care anymore because I am not so shallow” followed by “**Does anyone outgrow that infantile sour grapes attitude? Surely not I”).

Un-gray: I am unconvinced on this.  Covering the gray requires upkeep even after the reunion. That is a huge commitment.  Still under advisement.  So put a ? in that box.

My son just walked in and kissed me.  He really wants to use the computer, but the kiss was also real.  That’s the things with kids — they take you as you are and they don’t put on the artifices that we adults do as naturally as we get dressed in the morning.  POB (partner of blogger) calls out to me and wants to know what we want to do for dinner tonight.  I remind her to call her dad about coming over for dinner tomorrow night with my dad and assorted relatives.

Now, I think, do I care if I am thin, prosperous, toned and un-gray?  Yes, but not because of reunion.  I am happy and I don’t envy anyone or want to be envied.  I simply want my family to be happy and healthy and safe.  I have that.  Add new box and put √√√ in it!!! (with an *”still would like to be slim, prosperous, toned and less gray”) .

[break for dinner out during which my son has a mother of all melt-downs and tests my resolve against spanking as a disciplinary tool.]

Ok, so my son was temporary invaded by an alien life form, and all because we cannot go to his choice of local restaurants (there were no tables available).  This is not my son (usually).   The following race through my mind: (i) aliens are clever, (ii) my parents grew up poor and would not abide such behavior in us, (iii) we knew not to exhibit such behavior and (iv) what have I done to create this monster?

Am I still happy and blessed?  Absolutely.  Am I pissed?  You betcha.  But keep the new box with the √√√ in it, and don’t forget the all-important asterisk.


Share