“Don’t call us, we’ll call you!”

There are many situations that we simply cannot control, decisions which are within the purview of someone else and our own participation or preference is not considered.  It’s a hard lesson to learn and in lots of cases we have to learn it early in life when our psyches are still so fragile and malleable that the damage can be devastating.  The disappointment can be immense and the only answer of solace is… ? 

I remember I was in 12^th grade playing on the varsity baseball team after laboring for two years on the junior varsity squad waiting for my chance.  When I got to 12^th grade, the shortstop position was mine since the previous shortstop had graduated (and went on to a major league career as an outfielder).  But upon starting practices, I learned that my position was no longer available.  It seems that some hotshot 10^th grader who had transferred from a different school was going to play shortstop and I was going to either be moved to another position or simply placed on the bench.

You can imagine my disappointment.  I figured that the time had finally arrived.  I outplayed nearly everyone else in the league in 11^th grade on the JV so there was nothing stopping me from taking my game to the next level and excelling.  But a sight-unseen (yet highly touted) 10^th grader was coming in and would displace me as if my 11^th grade season had never happened. 

What do you tell that 12^th grader who had been waiting to show his skills on the biggest stage on which he had played?  Tough luck?  Better luck next time?  Or maybe you just tell him he never had a shot… because that’s what it felt like, as if the deck had been stacked against me and I was getting dealt a 2 and a 3 against the dealer’s King.   

Not wanting to fall too much into discouragement, I took to the field and convinced myself I would be the best player I could be at whatever position I was given.  If I was told to play outfield, I would try as hard as I could; if I was going to coach 3^rd base, then I would be the bets at that — and on the side, I was secretly hoping that the 10^th grade prodigy would fail miserably.  Did I feel bad about it?  Absolutely, because his failure would not be the best for the team and I was always a team player first, personal success second.  Still, I felt that I was powerless; the coach’s decision was his and his alone.   

Look, I understand that this difficult lesson came when I was 17 years old and that I had, by that time, already learned that in some situations things are simply not fair.  Whereas I like to believe that things work themselves out, it is a bit naïve to think that is always the case.

But now as a parent I am careful to be conscious of when situations like this arise and, unfortunately, a situation like this came up just last week—is 6 ½ too young to be learning the lesson that the world is sometimes not fair?

Consider a precocious, outgoing, and energized young girl who greatly enjoys performing and being the center of attention.  Musical theater is a no-brainer so we signed her up for summer camp doing just that which culminates in a performance for family and friends.  What role do you want honey?  Well of course, she wants the lead- she wants to sing and act and dance and be on stage every second of the show.  How do you tell a 6 ½ year old that she has to be the very best Flower #5 that she can be?  When she comes home singing the songs that the lead sings and running the lines of all of the other characters, how do you disabuse her of the notion that she has a chance at being the star?

The answer is, you encourage her to be the best she can be.  You tell her that the show would not go one without Flower #5, that if Flower #5 was not on stage, then the show would have to stop.  And then you tell her that everybody, at some point in their lives, was Flower #5—that the girl playing the lead now was Flower #5 a few years ago and paid her dues and worked her way up to the starring role.  And you hope that her discouragement and disappointment are not such that she will refuse to participate, but will still give it her all.  But if the show goes on and Flower #5 kills it while the star of the show fails miserably, what lesson do you teach your child then?  That one is easy.

You teach your child that the people who were put in charge of making those decisions were not good judges of character or talent and that they should find another line of work!

Ok, maybe you don’t teach her that—instead, you highlight her own talents and successes and encourage her to continue to give it her all because at some point, someone out there making the decisions will notice her talent and energy and exuberance and will give her that shot.  But oh, how many of these disappointments will there be before that opportunity comes?  In life, those opportunities are so few and far between, I think we all know that—sports, performance art, creative pursuits, the chance of success is so small.

I guess as long as they are having fun, right?  And when it gets to become too devastating to continue to be disappointed by the decisions of others, maybe it is time to find something else.

Whew, looks like a long road ahead.  Until then, I can’t wait to see how well Flower #5 performs.

“People are gonna drink! You know that, I know that, we all know that, and all I do is act on that.”

I confess that I was very close to ending these weekly posts.  After last week’s debacle I truly felt like the stimulation and enjoyment that I get out of writing was gone and I was ready to turn to other endeavors, maybe creative writing or just hanging them up for good.  Just goes to show you that sometimes one bad apple can spoil the bunch. 

But just to be clear, I want to make the following known:  no, I was not sleeping on the couch nor was I in the doghouse.  In fact, my wife didn’t get on my case about my post from last week (seems she understood that what I was trying to say was a compliment to her) but it was someone else who made a comment to her that caused her to request that I send out the correction.  I appreciate those of you who responded with bewilderment and support for the original content of the post and it was because of those responses that I decided not to bring these to an end but to give it another shot and see who I can piss off this time.

Just the other day, as I was sipping on my tasty, frosty 32-ounce beverage, it occurred to me that I was enjoying one of the many freedoms afforded to Americans.  I believe the Declaration of Independence states that all men are created equal and that we are endowed with certain unalienable rights, including life, liberty, and as much soda as we can ingest.

Wait, the Declaration of Independence doesn’t say that?  Well, I’m no lawyer, so maybe I am confused—is it in the Constitution?  Bill of Rights?  Oh, so that’s why the state of New York is able to propose legislation concerning my imbibing of soda pop!  (I’m sure someone calls it soda pop someplace, right?)

If you haven’t heard, apparently Mayor Bloomberg of New York has proposed a ban on the sale of large-sized sugar-sweetened drinks (over 16 ounces) in restaurants, delis, sports arena, theaters, and food carts.  The 20 ounce cokes that are sold by street vendors are so much more deadly than the chili dogs with onions, cheese, and mustard on the sesame seed bun!  This, by the way, is in effort to curb obesity in New York City and, hopefully, the world and is expected to be approved by the New York City Board of Health. 

Remember when I was ranting last week about how there were no socially or politically redeeming measures on the ballot and that I felt as if my right to vote was being taken from me?  Well let me present Exhibit “A.”  Can you think of anything more asinine than legislating what people eat and drink?  Can we all say “ridiculous?”

Look, I am all for encouraging people to eat better, take better care of themselves, work out, don’t smoke, and all that other stuff.  But what gives the government the right to force it on us?  If I want to drink a 44-ounce Diet Coke on my way to the office every morning, then why can’t I?  Isn’t this a free country?

Wait, I have a better question:  What year are we in?  This is the 21 century right, not the Roaring 20’s when Prohibition was in effect?  Didn’t the government learn its lesson when it outlawed alcohol that only bad things can happen when the government’s will is forced on the masses?

You see, the government believes that we as a society are incapable of taking care of ourselves so they feel it is necessary to force it on us.  Next thing you know, they will outlaw pizza and cheeseburgers and force us to join health clubs and send us all treadmills for our living rooms—which will not have televisions in them, by the way, because television rots our brains.

Am I the only one who sees this as a serious violation of our rights?  It’s just a slippery slope to the Orwellian vision of the future.  (I think, I haven’t really read “1984” yet, but I plan to.)  Let us eat what we want.  Let us drink what we want.  As long as we aren’t hurting other people, let us do whatever the heck we want to our own bodies.  As far as I am concerned, it is my own body, and if I want to drink 96 ounces of Mountain Dew, so be it!  The government doesn’t know if I am going to drink and then sit at a desk all day or if I am a professional sprinter.  My body = my responsibility.  Not the government’s!

Seriously, is there anything more ignorant than this law?

Slurp, slurp, slurp.  Ahhhh……

“Terry, tell me something. With all this money coming in from both sides, how does anything ever get done?”

Friends:

Last Tuesday was Election Day.  First, I didn’t know prior to Tuesday that there was any type of election taking place this week.  Second, and probably more importantly, I didn’t really care that there was an election taking place.  When my wife mentioned that she was going to vote, I simply shrugged my shoulders, wished her luck, and thought nothing else of it. 

I confess that part of me felt like I had let the founders of our country down.  The idea that we as a general population had the right and freedom to cast a vote and participate in the process by which our legislators and laws were selected had obviously been lost on me for the moment.  People have battled and fought for generations for the right to vote and participate in the democratic process.  And here I was, dismissing my right without a second thought.

Yet after the self-loathing wore off, I became frustrated and downright angry.  Not angry with myself, mind you, but angry with the election process as a whole.  I felt like the process had let me down, because it did not offer me anything worthwhile to vote for, and thus had deprived me of performing my right to vote.

I am intensely non-political, a weird position to take maybe, but mine nonetheless.  I do not enjoy talking about politics, arguing about politics, or even thinking about politics.  One reason is because I feel like I am not well informed and thus cannot discuss politics with any level of intelligence.  The other reason is because even if I do engage in any discussions concerning politics, I feel dirty and polluted afterwards.

After she had voted, my wife was describing to me her experience and the measures and candidates on whom she placed her votes and it got me all riled up.  It seemed like the measures and issues were the same as they have always been:  raise taxes or don’t raise taxes and of course the ever-present term limits.  Interestingly, when trying to explain one of the other measures to me, my wife was unsure as to what it specifically was intended to do and how best to place her vote. My wife is incredibly intelligent and certainly one of the smartest people that I know and if she couldn’t figure it out, then what hope is there for the rest of the voting public?

But let me get back to the measure that really got me going—term limits.  I remember being so excited when I turned 18 that I was finally going to get the chance to place a vote—I remember that I voted for president and thought it was the coolest thing; to walk into the polling place, stand in the voting booth, poke the holes with the neat little poker-thing and get that little “I Voted” sticker.  And I distinctly recall voting on a measure involving term limits.  It seems that this is a measure that will never die—no matter if it prevails or gets defeated, someone will find a new way to get the measure on the ballot.

That got me to thinking with a perspective I had never before had.  When I was 18 I remember voting for term limits.  Hadn’t we seen enough of the same names on the ballots?  The Eddie Murphy movie from 1992 called “The Distinguished Gentleman” is based on the principal that voters are ignorant and will vote for the name they recognize, even though that candidate has died and someone else is using the name.  So I recall thinking back then how important term limits were.

Now, however, my thoughts have changed.  As I said earlier, I don’t have a political agenda, but my aversion to the concept of term limits is based on my own frustrations with the election system as a whole.  In my opinion, the support for term limits is founded in laziness.  It is based on the belief that an incumbent will invariably prevail in an election and the legislature must even the scales and give the challengers equal opportunity.

To that I say no, no, no.  If the incumbent has been in office for multiple terms, then it is the challenger’s burden to defeat him or her—not impose an arbitrary time period when a politician’s service must end.  The challenger must educate the voting public of the incumbent’s lengthy service, poor record, what have you—it seems to be actually un-democratic to impose arbitrary limitations on a politician’s service.  If the voting population believes, right or wrong, that an incumbent is worth re-electing, then who is the legislature to say otherwise?  Doesn’t term limits actually deprive us of the right to elect the politician that we want to elect?  Isn’t the idea of term limits actually divergent from the democratic concept?

I could go on about this for days and certainly would be interested in hearing your perspectives on this.  But seriously, I am upset with the legislators who keep proposing term limits and placing the measure on the ballot because it indicates a laziness in the election process.  It says to the voters that the challenger to the incumbents does not want to work hard enough to educate the public on the need to vote out the incumbent and is requesting that the voters, in approving term limits, do the job for them.  And for that I am angry; angry that we are expected to elect the challengers who won’t work hard enough to get elected.  So you tell me—what measures or candidates are worth voting for?

And on a separate note—what if the term limit requires the retirement of a politician in office who is actually accomplishing goals and making change?  It was Franklin D. Roosevelt’s three and a half terms in office that led to the presidential term limits.  But would World War II have ended the way it did if Roosevelt was a lame duck president?  Who would have won the election instead?  Perhaps a German sympathizer?

Above all else, I am sad—sad that my freedom to vote appears to me to no longer be valuable.  I yearn for the day when a candidate or measure has sufficient enough impact to warrant my vote.  Too bad I don’t live in Marin County.  At least there I know that the candidate, Marc Levine, would be worthy of my vote… Oh well.

Maybe I’m wrong?

“Young boys should never be sent to bed… they always wake up a day older.”

Recently my daughter has begun obsessing about her Bat Mitzvah and who will be invited and where the party will be.  My grandmother has been having health problems recently and Brooklyn’s focus has been on hoping that G.G. lives long enough to be at her Bat Mitzvah.  G.G. is 88 and Brooklyn just turned 6½.  While I want my Grandmother to live as long as possible and celebrate as many happy occasions and she can, the flip side of it is that I am not in any great rush for Brooklyn’s Bat Mitzvah.  It is still over 6 years away!  Of course, her intention is to ultimately reach the age of 19 and then stop growing—she thinks that 19 is the perfect age.  Boy does she have a lot to learn!

But it did remind me of a blog from November, 2009, long before I knew some of you.  After you read it, I think you will agree that at times we need to keep some perspective on our lives; if we lose sight of what makes life fun and enjoyable, it will pass before we even know it.  Just like Ferris Bueller said, “Life moves pretty fast.  If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

I won’t grow up,

I don’t want to wear a tie.

And a serious expression

In the middle of July.

And if it means I must prepare

To shoulder burdens with a worried air,

I’ll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up

Not ME…

Remember when we were young?  When we couldn’t wait to grow up?  Oh how cool it would be to never have to go to school again, to buy anything you want, and to stay up late on school nights…

And remember when our parents would ask, “Why are you in such a hurry to grow up?  Stay a kid for as long as possible.”  We would think that our parents were crazy!  How could they honestly tell us that having to go to school everyday was better than the freedom they had to go to movies on weekdays and watch The Tonight Show?  Who wants to do homework?!?!?!

Well, I was one of those kids who could not wait to be a grown-up.  And now, I have a 4 year old daughter who tells me that she can’t wait to grow up and all I can say is, “Why are you in such a hurry to grow up?  Stay a kid for as long as possible.”

So how do I combat being a grown up?  Do I allow myself to get bogged down in ring around the collar and soapscum, two things I had only heard of in commercials before I became a grown up?  (Remember when the only thing we knew about a mortgage was that if you needed one you were about to lose in Monopoly?)

Some of you know my strategy.  I stay young by going to rock concerts and screaming my lungs out.  I still play baseball once a week where I try to hit a ball coming at me at 80 miles per hour (except I have to squint to see the ball nowadays).  I still watch cartoons, although they certainly are not The Smurfs and The Snorks.  (Seriously, wasn’t The Snorks just The Smurfs under water?)  I still go to Dodger Games, even sometimes on weeknights, and get butterflies in my stomach when I set sight on that beautiful diamond, it never gets old.  And I still have dinner with my mom and dad at least one night a week.  Something about home cooking, even if it is delivered.

We talked before about seeing the forest through the trees.  To me, the trees represents being a grown up and all the things grown-ups have to do and be responsible for.  But the forest, that is the whole circle of life and I intend to have as much fun as I can while I am living it and not let being a grown-up become too much of a focus that I lose sight of the fun in life.   I will still be a responsible adult, but isn’t it ok to sometimes let my hair down, while I still have it?

I WON’T GROW UP… NOT ME…

NOT I!