Dear NFL,
I write you as a friend to express some concerns. I may be writing only from my own pure — and perhaps misguided — nostalgia, but I worry about the future of my great game. (I apologize in advance for moments of incoherence and inconsistency, but like many long-standing passions, the one I have for you defies articulation — and reason.) [Read more →]
So a month ago my wife, in one of those heroic moves toward permanent marital stability, bought us tickets to the Jason Bonham Led Zeppelin Experience. The show tapped directly into my untouchable love of Zeppelin. I was awed not just by the talent of Bonham and his band but the emotion driving this tribute. Meandering home afterward, thinking about the grainy videos of Jason as a child that were part of the show, I wondered what if Zeppelin had tried to launch today, in the age of helicopter parents. [Read more →]
While I was waiting for the train during an afternoon commute last week, I ran into him for the second time. A little boy, probably five or six. He ran wild on the platform. He played on the train tracks. He smashed the pay phone against a metal rail. He screamed at people. Last time, he also threw rocks at cars in a nearby parking lot. [Read more →]
Early on in my parenting travels, I was a total anti-video game guy. A staunch opponent. Of course, these feelings were not due to a lingering bitterness because growing up I was the worst Pac-Man player in my town. No, I just didn’t want my kids sitting idly for hours on end, ruled by a screen, twitching, stagnating, drooling. But then came the Wii. [Read more →]
In the movie Inception, inception is the implanting of an idea in someone’s mind through dreams. I wonder if this generation of parents will be remembered for exercising a kind of large-scale inception: Sports-crazed adults forcing a dream of sporting greatness and glory into their children’s heads. [Read more →]
Although it may seem otherwise, people care a lot about language. Everyday people who mash words together without a second thought will get all defensive and downright purist when the discussion turns to proper use of English, especially if there’s some perceived threat. And a big threat to language has been looming: digital technology. [Read more →]
It’s important that you know this about me: My kid plays up.
I remember those early days, when she was I guess four, when we first joined the town club team. She was running around with the other kids, and I could tell she had it. She needed more. She needed to play with the five-year-olds. As a good parent, I was restless watching her out there with the average kids. I recognized that having fun with her friends wouldn’t be enough. I told her everything she needed to do every second of every game. And I know she heard me, because I said it nice and loud. But we still weren’t getting results. So I moved her up. [Read more →]
Like many adults, I left Toy Story 3 a little sniffly. As I drove home and tried to uncover the source of my maudlin mood — my three kids were not helping encourage this analytical state — I realized how much I was struck by the play scenes that open and close the movie. In both scenes (no spoiler alert needed here, by the way) a child is immersed in play with a variety of different toys, assigning roles based on their own plot. Mr. Potato Head is a villain. Cowgirl and spaceman dolls work together. Monkeys from a Barrel of Monkeys have their own part. A cardboard box is a major prop. Even a piggy bank is a character. [Read more →]
