A Civilized Conversation Begins to Degrade....

Interviewer:  "The wisdom of the Geezers is now something of a legend, and I'm wondering if the group of you can comment on a subject of interest to young men aiming toward Geezerhood some day. That subject is that of fathering children in the modern world. Your commentary frequently borders on the curmudgeonly in tone, so I suspect you have some things to say on the subject."

Mercurious:  "Bold, sometimes rabid opinions, really are the territory of the Professor, but you're right, this is one subject the Geezers can certainly comment on. 

"Personally, the first piece of advice I'd give young men setting out on the path of fatherhood—and the principle most often ignored these days—is this:  Be the adult. Your kids do not need you to be their friend. They need you to be the responsible adult to set their boundaries for them. Far too many namby-pamby men think that being a father means being a buddy. There will be time for that when they grow up, perhaps, but when they're kids, be a genuine adult father to your kids. Handing off to you, Professor."

The Professor:  "Insist that your children talk to you.  They don't have to like you, they don't even need to respect you (of course, that would be nice) but they need to know that talking to you is a "condition of employment" as far as being a kid.  This should be no problem; kids enjoy talking to their parents—when they are young.  The difficulty some parents have is caused by allowing an early pattern of distracted communication to develop, in which the parents are too busy to focus upon and talk with their children. This dysfunctional pattern often kicks in at the magical age of three, when (most) kids explode with language and are almost totally uninhibited about their spoken thoughts. Most three year olds have limited things to talk about, and most parents of three year olds are very busy, tired or, usually both.  It is easy to let a pattern develop of being together without truly talking.  (This is becoming VERY concerning in today's world, where kids—and parents—are equipped with distracting electronic devices all the time.)  

 "Not talking is a delayed-symptom type of thing: it is not much of a concern when kids are young and their lives are relatively simple, and for the most part played out in the view of parents and teachers. The challenge comes when the child reaches, say, middle school, where an age-appropriate impulse for independence starts to kick in, and social pressures become much more difficult to spot and control.  Woe to the parent who has teenagers who are not in the habit of talking with their parents (and I believe nearly the only thing that brings children through some of those tricky "middle years" are habits formed in earlier years when they were more malleable.)

"If the default social mode of the family is developed so that it is more strained, awkward and difficult for kids to sit with their parents in silence, then teenagers will talk; but if the habit is that silence is typical and comfortable, there is no way that a teenager suddenly becomes chatty during those typical teenage emotional states:  confusion, in-over-their-head anger or fearfulness, or debilitating, distracting horniness.

"Meals, of course, can be a big help in all of this.  Formerly, car rides were a big opportunity.  I myself tried to build in a bedtime ritual of having a ten-minute chat over a glass of juice or milk with the little ones before they went off to bed.  They had little to say, really, so usually we just went through their day, hour by hour, and I asked them what they did.  Value in terms of content? Usually close to zero.  Value in terms of establishing a lifelong pattern: (as they say in the adverts) Priceless." 

Mercurious: "I have to say, Professor, that the proof is clearly in the pudding. I've seen your interaction with your grown kids, and you've clearly done something pretty right. Yours is an admirable family dynamic, to be sure. What say you, Mr. Math?"

Mathematician:  "So the core of the advice from my esteemed colleagues seems to be "discipline" and "communication". I can't say we had either of those in abundance in my childhood. Not that my sisters and I were particularly mute or surly. But our evening meals were not the gabfests the Professor remembers. And as for discipline, well, my Dad didn't try hard to be my best friend but I honestly never remember him even raising his voice to me, or my sisters. And I may have been too much of a milk toast to warrant the occasional correction, but I guarantee my three sisters richly deserved the dressing downs they never received. 

"What we did have in my family that made things work was a strong sense of place, or traditions. One felt the need to do things a certain way because that's what we did. Work hard. Study hard. Don't complain. Respect your elders. Hold family dear. Perhaps because my maternal Grandmother lived with us and cared for us when we were very young, my siblings and I all shared that common worldview. When I go out to shoveel another frickin' Minnesota snow off my drively in the barely dawn, I can still her my Grandmother's voice: "A job worth doing is worth doing well. Sometimes I wish her advice had been more like, 'Have another. You can do that other shit tomorrow.'

"My wife and I have tried to imbue our kids with a sense of tradition. We have endlessly talked to them about the rich histories of my family and hers. The kind of stories and traditions that almost every family has. Either that worked or my kids are very good at hiding their transgressions. Not that they are exactly what I'd like them to be. But they have a good sense of who they are, backed by a good understanding of from whence they came. That's about all they really need, which is good because the next generation will likely grow up with considerably less than we had. But that's another topic.  For later. 

Mercurious: "Well said, Math.  The success of your strategies is also clear to anyone who simply looks at your family. In our family, we probably spent more effort on creating new traditions rather than following historical traditions, as some of those felt stifling and onerous. But I'm well aware that our kids have appreciated the life-rhythm reassurance offered by the repeated activities that became our own family traditions.

The Professor:  “Nicely observed, Mathematician, especially the observation about tradition. I REALLY struggle trying to understand those people who don't get how tradition works and who, thus, undervalue (or are sometimes actively antagonistic toward) tradition.

Interviewer: “Geezers, any further thoughts?  I know you to be immensely opinionated, so surely you have other advice...."

Mercurious:  One other thing. Let your kids be kids. Give them the free time and space to explore

the world and themselves and figure out who they are and what they want to be. When we Geezers were young, summers were largely a time to wander about rather aimlessly, playing sandlot baseball with buddies, hanging out at the municipal swimming pool, roaming hillsides or just generally getting into mischief. We most certain DID NOT have every moment of every day scheduled for us by our parents. And I think we turned out much the better for our parents having the good sense to let us be kids."

Interviewer:  "Thank you Geezers....

Mercurious:  "Wait a minute....

Dr. Golf:  “You said one other thing. Now you’re starting yet another thing.”

Mercurious:  “…On the subject of tradition... Tradition seems like a double-edged sword to me, capable of both good and ill. You can argue that tradition was also what prevented first women, then black people, from voting. Also what prevented gay people from having rights. And certainly there are some religious traditions that have been corrosive. Math, you of all people must roll your eyes at some of those traditions. If you adhere to tradition, then must you of necessity believe that change is bad? Tradition, after all, is partly about arch defense of the status quo. Where does "tradition" end, and lazy inertia begin? A complex subject, I think. Tradition is both a human necessity, and sometimes a human foible.

Interviewer...."Perhaps another time, we can explore that....

Professor: "Hold on, hold on. Mercurious doesn't get the last word this time.

"Of course tradition—like all powerful tools—has its down side along with its positive value. My basic concern is when people reject a tool such as this one on the basis of its misuse. 

"The Geezer in me is tempted to reject the Internet as a tool because of its misuse in the form of ugly anonymity detached pseudo-communication.  Our esteemed Mathematician has developed an aversion to most things religious—to what extent this is related to observing its dubious use in gloomy Lutheran settings growing up in Minnesota is a judgment I am not in a position to make.  

"To me the salient concern is: when you know a tool exists that can do what no other tool can, don't you think you should at least learn as much as you can about such a tool? 

"As a professor at reasonably selective college, I work with a lot of people possessing a fair amount

of "grey matter" intelligence.  It is doubly frustrating to encounter very intelligent people who opt out of a struggle to understand how something like tradition works based on the many negative things to which it contributes.  Ditto religion, ditto technology (for that matter, ditto following sports and being a sports fan.)  Learn about these tools, try applying them in a sophisticated manner, and determine their sensible place in (or out) of your lives.  It's the knee-jerk reaction by intelligent people that gives me pause."

Interviewer:  "Thank you for that final thought...."

Mercurious: "Listen carefully, Professor. I'm not rejecting the concept of tradition, only asking you to be more precise. You're the one that said tradition is always good, without qualification.  So who's being knee jerk?

Mathematician:  "There goes Mercurious, getting the last word again. Sheesh. Edit this, dip stick!" 

Dr.  Golf  (to Interviewer): "Welcome to my life. These pseudo-intellectual mutts never shut up."

Interviewer:  "Thank you, Geezers, one and all. And special thanks to Dr. Golf."

Modern Tom Sawyer

I'm sure they boy described below falls under the category of "troubled" youngster, and if I knew the whole story I'd be quite sympathetic with the plight of the family. Still, I can't quite help having admiration for the ingenuity, even brilliance, of this youngster's brand of juvenile delinquency....

Last week, a nine-year-old boy in Minneapolis snuck onto a Delta jet bound for Las Vegas. At first I assumed this was some sort of innocent but startling mixup—that he was traveling with his family, who was waiting to board a plane at an adjoining gate, accidentally boarded another plane, or some such thing.

But it turns out that this was quite a clever and well planned ploy on the boy's part. His mother works at the airport, and it would appear that he sometimes accompanies her to work. A day or two before the event, airport cameras recorded him "casing" the situation at the baggage carousel and security gate. Then, on the day in question, he quietly joined the rear of a large family at the security checkpoint and a different family at the boarding gate. In the confusion of a family elder presenting a whole handful of boarding passes to the agent in each location, he managed to sneak through. After all, the difference between 8 kids and 9 is negligible to the typical adult. It wasn't until he was on the plane in the air when the flight attendant realized he was both unattended and not on the flight manifest.

And mind you, this kid is old beyond his years: his chosen destination was not Disney World, but Vegas.

When the lad was eventually returned to Minneapolis, local authorities looking into the situation found that he has a history of this kind of misbehavior in Minneapolis, often jumping the light-rail train line to travel down to a water park near the Mall of America, where he sneakily joins large family and slips through the entrance lines there. He is, to say the least, a behavioral challenge.

Now, as a youth I had something of a reputation for being both clever and prone to notable hijinks. But at the same time I extend sympathy to his family for what they must go through, I must  tip my cap to the sheer precociousness of this young fellow. Intellectual brilliance and diabolical cunning is a hard mixture to beat.  If he gets through his delinquency years and stays out of prison, I'm confident that he has a future in the US Congress.

You can read the entire story here. 

Liberals Have Deserted Me.

I'm seriously considering leaving a club to which I've belonged for my entire life—the liberals.

All my life, friends and acquaintances who are moderate in political and social outlook have regarded me as extremely left-wing in attitude—one close friend openly thinks of me blatantly socialist. But lately my liberal sisters and brothers are beginning to piss me off in the extreme, mostly because they project false arrogance and superiority that is just insufferable. The liberals who are bugging me come in several sub-species, among them:

The restaurant and coffeeshop snobs
Lord, am I tired of the aristocrats for whom the only thing acceptable is the newest, most

Seriously?  I asked for a cup o' Joe, black. 

expensive restaurant in town. Very rarely I've found some of these places to be really nice dining experiences, but generally speaking the busiest restaurants have little legitimate to recommend them other than the fact that human lemmings are swarming them for the moment. Fully ninety percent of these trendy places offer fare that has less taste than what you'd eat at a simple Perkins family restaurant. It's entirely false snobbishness that fuels the silly popularity of these places.

Similarly, I'm terribly tired of the coffee boutiques specializing in syrupy fluids with flavor that reminds you of the bottom of an ashtray. Let's face it: old time diners offered coffee with a pleasantly nutty flavor that surpassed most of the nonsense served in the upscale coffee boutiques.

The health food nuts
At various times lately, I've heard it said that virtually all world health problems, from autism to dementia, are due to:
• Gluten
• Sugar
• Lactose
• Statin drugs
• Red meat
• Protein
• Carbohydrates
• Caffeine
• Artificial Sweeteners
• Too many intestinal bacteria
• Not enough intestinal bacteria

Good grief. It's interesting to me that the folks frantically afraid of these health nemeses seem to be the ones who then develop them. (The real health problem is narcissistic hypochondria).  Meanwhile, I know perfectly healthy octogenarians who have consumed liquor and stiff coffee, smoked cigarettes and practiced all manner of debauchery and are are still alive and kicking rigorously.

It wouldn't be so bad if these food neurotics didn't insist on preaching to you their brand of insanity. At a recent neighborhood picnic, one fellow interrogated each person who had brought a potluck dish on whether their recipes were "gluten free" or not. Several were asked to go check labels to find out if he could eat without farting up a storm a couple of hours later.

And I have no need to convince vegetarians and "vegans" that their practices are somewhat against the biological heritage of homo-sapiens. It's no skin off my nose if they want to live this way. So why is it that when you eat a bit of fish and a sour-dough roll in front of them,  they can barely disguise their contempt?

Pseudo hippies
I really don't have anything against the true children of the 60s and 70s who continue to live the

Sorry pal. Abbie Hoffman you ain't. 

principles of that era, though it often seems just a little silly. Most of us from that generation have evolved a bit, or at least become a little more realistic about some aspects of the world, but it seems to me that these folks have earned the right to practice a philosophy that's natural to them. And there is a political genuineness (though perhaps not practical realism) that I rather admire.

But I'm increasingly surprised by the number of young (late 20s to early 40s) liberals who adopt a kind of false hippie aesthetic without any real idea of the underpinnings. On the commuter bus one casual Friday, I heard two young women comparing the quality of tie-dye skirts between Macy's and Nordstroms, one arguing that paying $250 was a good investment, as the designer was much more on-trend.  The idea that such garments were created by hand back in the day was utterly alien to them, I imagine.

These pseudo hippies are frankly as blatantly materialistic as any 1970's yuppie that we used to ridicule. They've just deluded themselves into believing they are superior to other people.

Lords of craft beer
Here's another trend that's starting to annoy me—the obsession with "craft" beer. Surely this has about run its course. It's really nothing more than the latest iteration of wine snobbery. if you ask me. I've nothing again microbreweries—who could be against having more pubs around the neighborhood? But the level of gourmet pretension has become pretty unbearable. Beer is beer, and its the act of tipping back with your pals that is significant, not silly debate on the aesthetics of the decor and furnishings in one microbrewery over the other.

(Note: Scotch snobbery is not to be criticized, under severe penalty)

Parents who "befriend" their children 
This isn't all that new; some fellow liberals back when we started having kids were also practicing this way.  What I'm speaking of are those parents who have no ability to distinguish between the adults and the children. They treat their kids as friends, sometimes even encouraging kids to address mom and dad by first names. And in the homes of these folks, you'll find no distinction between spaces for the kids and those for adults—toys and games are scattered everywhere, and the entire family culture is dominated by the needs and wishes of kids. These are the folks who will never leave kids with a baby-sitter in order to go out and get stinking drunk and screw in the backseat. Because they are ordained by god almighty to raise supermen and superwomen, they are likely to home school their kids, because of course contact with other people is not necessary for a growing kid. They are the ones who insist that you need not discipline kids; only "reason" with them. (One fellow preached this to me, then in the next breath lamented that his 10-year old son had begun stealing from the neighbors after breaking through their windows).

Spare me. Parents should have no fear of being parents and making sure their kids understand that that they are the kids. Give the kids some space; your constant presence in every aspect of their lives is not very healthy.

The bicycle frauds
I work with some of these folks, who exhibit an insolent moral superiority in the fact that they

Got news for you. This ain't the tour de France. 

ride bicycles everywhere while others drive automobiles. Does a 50-year old bicycle commuter really have any reason to where spandex biking togs with racing numbers on the back?   In cultures where bicycling is far more ingrained (England, for example), folks ride bikes in comfortable clothing, not ridiculous costumes.

And I'm entirely weary of the indignant, defiant way that bicyclists now treat traffic laws, living in constant deliberate combat with automobiles. Now, I have no problem if bicyclists want to run a stop sign or red light, frankly, Generally, it's no skin off my nose, and I frankly am ready to offer some social leniency to those who are saving gasoline.  But at the same time, you do this at your own risk, and running a traffic stop means you must be willing to take responsibility for the consequences. Everywhere today I see bikes whizzing through intersections as though they have god-given right of way, paying no attention to cross traffic, and then filing lawsuits if they plow broadside into a car.

The television snobs
I know quite a number of educated liberals who sniff with superiority if you mention that you enjoy a particular television program or frequently watch ballgames on the tube.  Apparently they only read greek literature and study classic music for entertainment in the evenings. These are the folks who deny their kids television viewing or access to computer games due to a sense of moral superiority: it's the "we practice arts and crafts at our house rather than watch TV" group.

Yup. That's me, Mercurious. And proud of it. 

This is just horse crap. Television is inherently no more corrupting (and likely less so) than reading romance novels, or listening to Taylor Swift on the ipod, which is what a lot of these holier-than-thou sorts do on the sly. Steven Spielberg acknowledges that he watched television constantly as a youth, as did any number of creative and famous individuals. Probe a little bit and you'll find that these folks who claim to have never watched television can sing you the theme song to most every 1970s sitcom.

So I'll just say it: the big-screen, high-def television is illuminated and talking quite a bit of the time at our house, and we kind of treat it as a window that can be looked through when you want. As Joseph Campbell noted, studying a society's  popular culture tells you far more about it than scholarly tomes.

I read three books a week, on average.  But I also can't wait for the next episode of "Hillbilly Handfishin'" on the History Channel. It airs right before "Say Yes to the Dress."


.....I clearly need a new club. Time was when liberals were a 'live and let live' crowd, not a bunch of moralistic namby pambies.

 I wonder the entry requirements are for the Libertarians.

A Geezer View of Conflict

—this article contributed by The Professor™—

It seems like a relatively straightforward question, and I have asked it of many people:

Would you rather have a life that is like an interesting play or a boring play? 

You can guess the response: out of more than fifty responses over the years, I don’t recall a single person responding: “I’d prefer a life that’s a boring play, thank you very much.”  And of course, it makes sense, doesn’t it? Who would willingly chose to watch, or live, a boring play?

Well, yes, but when thought about further, perhaps it’s not so straightforward.  Interesting plays, as dramatists know, are built from one basic building block: conflict.

If I rephrased my question to ask for a preference between a life filled with conflict and one conflict-free, most people would respond with “no conflict, please.”  The reader can see the paradox of this: the same people who long for an interesting life also—in great measure—hope to avoid conflict through their life.

The Professor and wife, making up after
a loving argument

Why this contradiction?  As a society and as individuals, we are becoming distressingly fearful of conflict.  Not so long ago, a typical day was characterized by low-level conflict from early morning:  (“I gotta go to the bathroom!”—“Wait your turn!!”), through school (“If Christ could hang on the cross for three hours, you can hold off for ten more minutes”—“but I REALLY have to go!”), onto the playground (“I get to be captain”—“You’re always captain!”) Escalating slightly after school (“I told you and your dork friends not to walk on this side of the street!”—“Who’s going to stop us…you and who’s army?), and continuing at supper (“You are not leaving this table until you have finished your supper…think of the starving children in India. —“But they don’t eat Lutefisk in India.”)  And let’s not even play out the ritual back and forth about bedtime.

Like an effective, well-tested and lovingly administered behavioural vaccine, these small doses of conflict helped make us resistant, if not immune, to worries over conflict.  It was something we associated with interesting daily life; we got good at it, and we welcomed it (the last thing we would ever have wanted was an adult umpire to supervise our baseball—how fun would that be? —what would we argue about between innings?)

Fast forward to a different age:

“Don’t worry Jason, there are two more bathrooms for you to get ready in if Tiffany is taking too long.” 

“Of course, Joshua, there is no need to ask permission to go to the rest room, it’s a perfectly natural thing.”

 On the playground: “Come on everyone, let’s gather for a fun game of ‘circle of friends’ rather than that mean old keep-away.  Does someone have to lose to make us feel like a winner?” (Um, yes, actually.)

“My dad says I can walk wherever I want, and if you threaten me, he will tell the principal, who has a zero-tolerance bully policy, and you’ll be in big trouble.”

“Well, Melissa, if you REALLY don’t want those beans, I suppose your body just doesn’t need them—my parenting book says if we put an assortment of healthy foods on the table, children will NATURALLY eat what’s good for them.”

It’s important to make one thing clear: no one wants to ignore the horrible and widespread cruelty that can grow up and fester among groups of any kind. That’s not the conflict I’m encouraging.  No one wants people to get tuberculosis either, but the key to containing TB is not administering preventative antibiotics to everyone who sneezes.  There is a point where conflict becomes dangerous or pathological, and as a society we must be observant and deal with it, but insulating ourselves from every day, garden-variety conflict sows the seeds of something more subtle but almost as detrimental: an unconsciously fearful avoidance of conflict of any kind. 

I can recall any number of married couples over the years that have said to me or my wife (often contrasting themselves to us): “oh, we never argue.”  I can’t recall, though, many of these people who are still married. Those who are still married and never argue are, with the exception of the saintly—in a word—boring (which is trivial compared to the advanced condition of the disease: unhappy.)

Today’s “confliphobics” may be right: It may be better to work in an environment in which raising your voice when you feel strongly is considered “hostile and intimidating.” It may be more comfortable to have a carefully measured exchange of e-mails rather than a face-to-face conversation.  And perhaps a professionally “facilitated” workshop is superior to gathering for a drink or two after work.  

Our workplaces are increasingly populated by generations who have apparently grown up in a way so that even the spectre of conflict prompts avoidance behaviour and perhaps a call to HR services.  Many work environments have evolved in such a way that discourages a person to share what they really think—even if thoughtfully and carefully expressed—especially if they are not a member of a “protected” class of employee.

The geezer in us wants to judge, but how fair is that?  We who have been given the vaccine have little fear of such situations: we’ve built up a healthy supply of conflict-resolving anti-bodies.  But really, pity the poor people who have reached  (chronological, anyway) maturity without developing this protection—without a way to deal with the everyday conflicts that inevitably develop between individuals who are thinking and caring; and who have enough respect for their fellow workers to share what they think. Maybe there is somewhere that everyone thinks the same, and there is no conflict (See: 1984 or Brave New World.)  

Another theory, which I ascribe to, is that the only time there is no conflict is when no one cares.  The more one cares, the more probable it is that you will come into conflict with others who care as well.  AND THIS IS TO BE MANAGED (and celebrated,) NOT AVOIDED.  The inevitable conflicts that arise when people care should be valued—it is the sign of a culture that is alive and well.  Yes, it must be treated carefully (like you treat all valuable things), and we all need to work on our conflict-related skills.  We need to continue to practice and strengthen our abilities to turn conflict into art, the way the great dramatists have done for ages.  It’s how we make our lives into an interesting, artful play.