Starship Testosterone

While in a locker room at a health club many years ago with my x-brother in-law (squared), I learned a great parenting tip. We were with our young boys, and I heard Tim's boys start swearing like sailors. Before I could ask where this foul verbal discourse originated, Tim turned to his boys and said, "Good job guys - locker room talk! Say anything you want in here. But remember it stays in here. When we leave the locker room, no more foul language."

This parenting lesson is a great basic rule for boys, (and I suspect for girls, but I don't really want to know, and in fact I am slightly afraid, of those details) that there are appropriate outlets for certain, otherwise-inappropriate, behaviors. This reality is the basic reason why sports continue in society. Sports are a socially acceptable outlet for aggression. And locker room talk is now called "locker room talk", no longer talking "like a sailor", because sailors aren't pressed into service anymore; so they aren't as angry. Also, their jobs have largely been automated, so there are less of them. So, in our modern world, more people are swearing in locker rooms than on ships. If locker rooms start fading away like sailors, soon it may be called "golf course talk".

I drove four 15 year old boys from their hockey practice to their high school at 7am this morning. Because I am a Dad, and not a Mom, there is a certain latitude afforded how the boys are allowed to speak and act. So, yes, we were essentially a locker-room on wheels. Don't get me wrong. There are still boundaries. But they tend to get stretched and tested by raging hormones and testosterone.

So the conversation in the car went something like this:

Frank: Hey! Guys! Look at my school I.D.. I look like a pedophile!
Austin: Look at mine! I look like a rapist!
Max: (silent - grinning)
Dad: How does a pedophile and a rapist look any different? (I can't believe I was trying to logically follow this conversation)
Frank: The rapist would have, like, a mullet.
Austin: Which scares away the kids.
Max: (grinning - silent)
Matt: Dudes! You won't believe who's texting me!
Frank: Austin has the longest tongue. Dad! Check out Austin's huge tongue!
Dad: (Ewe) That's OK, I'll take your word for i.... Er, that's a big tongue, Austin. Congratulations.
Matt: Fu@#..!
Dad: HEY!
Matt: Sorry, Mr. Zimmerman. Frank, it's your girlfriend!
Frank: Shut up! She's not my girlfriend! You are so gay!
Dad: How does that make him gay? (I'm still applying logic - which is totally illogical. I'm on the Starship Testosterone and I am Spock.)
Max: (silent - grinning)
Frank: Dad. Drive through Xavier (girls school) and, oh, I need $5 for lunch. And another $5 that I borrowed from Austin.
.............................................. And so it went.

Parenting is so very rewarding that we parents are all glad we do it. Either that, or we all say we're glad, because once started, you can't exactly yell "do-over!". So we may as well enjoy it. But - no, I really DO enjoy it. And I'm also glad there are other parents to help show the way. Because let's face it: you need a license to operate a boat, but you can spray children all over the planet with no permission, training or direction.** So we need all the help we can get.

I hope Tim is doing well. He's a good guy, and being divorced twice-removed makes keeping in touch difficult.

**See "Wilt Chamberlain", "George Foreman"; and "Catholic birth-control 101".

To Really Laugh, You Have to Cry

It is a well trod-upon topic. No good without bad. No ups without downs. No heaven without hell. But regardless of how one has to periodically get sucker-punched to remind one of this inevitable balance in the world of emotions, the reality of this law has to reassert itself; less we forget.

I ended up in management very early in my career because of my demeanor. I have typically been described as good natured, unflappable, and someone who doesn't overreact. Yet this same trait has been my biggest weakness as well. Sometimes I don't react fast enough when movement is necessary.

Of course, this is as relevant to my just-ended marriage as it is to my career. Having had a spouse that reacts strongly to virtually any situation, it was inevitable that a husband who is much less reactionary would come up short in her mind. Amazing, really, that it took 20 years. But that length of time is also indicative of the fact that I probably didn't react fast enough.

Last week I was sitting outside on my balcony looking up at the sky, and realized I had a big grin on my face. Life is good. Sunshine is good. Seeing shapes in the clouds is good. My son Clark is particularly good at seeing shapes in clouds. Moments like that have been mostly absent from my life for many years. But they are coming back with more frequency.

The non-stop way I allowed life to proceed is changing - for the better, for sure. But I was reminded how far I still have to go in a recent phone conversation with my new friend Laurie.

Me: What are you up to?
Laurie: Not much. Just sitting here on the couch.
Me: Working?
Laurie: Nope.
Me: Watching T.V.?
Laurie: Nope.
Me: Reading a book?
Laurie: Nope.
Me: Then what are you doing?
Laurie: Nothing. Just thinking.
Me: (silence)

I was so jealous. What a concept. The over whelming revelation resulting from this short conversation was, of course, that I have this need to fill up my time - this realization made me want re-read Thoreau. See - it's still there. Maybe move to Waldon Pond instead of read it.

The best part of my new life is in the realization that the things I most desire are the things that are best for me and those around me. Uncomplicated time with the people I love: walks in the park, reading a book outdoors, cooking, laughing, playing my guitar at church - and now a little blogging.

These are activities that have a growing presence in my life, and are emerging from reacting to my own expectations as opposed to the expectations of someone else. I like this guy. And although I had to make the hardest decision of my life to start down this path, laughter now comes from deeper down in my gut. Smiles come more often to my face. I'm healthier. I drink less. And I feel more loved, both by others and myself.

So for now I am content to see some extra shapes in the clouds. As I look in the sky right now, I think I see a divorce attorney in one cloud, but the one that looks like a judge's gavel is starting to dissipate. To the right of that, I think I see a bunny!

Better. Much Better.