Things your mother lied about #1

You cannot become anything you want to be.

There, I said it.  Somewhere, a fairy died or a wishing well dried up or a shooting star quit it's job in disgust but I'll say it again- You cannot be anything you want to be.

I know this because I have wanted to be so many things.  Audrey Hepburn.  A great soccer coach.  Alive in the 40's.  Nina Simone.  Smarter.  Prettier.  Tidier.  Quieter.  Less likely to commit assualt and battery.  Good with animals and small children.  Tender hearted.  Spiritual.  Calm.  Brave.  A neurologist.  A Rockerfeller.

But I am not.

Nor could I have ever been the Pope (I am not Catholic and I look awful in pointy hats), a star in the NBA, Angelina Jolie,  a dictator (all the good countries are taken), an astronaut, a super model, or that Beautiful Mind guy that got see cool things that weren't real and win the Nobel prize.

Wishing on stars and dreaming impossible dreams work out great if you are drawn with a crayon and your fairy Godmother is coming in the next frame.  But if you are made out of flesh and blood and cursed with genetic practical jokes like my nose or backside and you do not a string of ancestral estates- dreaming of magic wands and wishes are a symptom of a disorder rather than the tale of a plucky young girl who had faith in her dream.

So what is there left to be?  Yourself.  We get so busy telling kids all the things they can be that we forget to tell them about the one thing they must be- themselves.  That is what we are doing here- learning to be ourselves and learning to do it well.

I hope I can remember to teach my kids that.  I hope they will learn to take their strengths and weaknesses and make a life they are proud of.  Maybe I will too.

Fistfights all around

When I was a kid, I loved The Dukes of Hazzard. Sure, the plots were more repitive than a childs finger play and the characters were as shallow and poorly developed as an 11 year old girl. No matter, I was devoted.

I wasn't the hot car, or the Duke boys, or the awful twangy music, or even the excellent narration that drew me in so. It was the fistfights. Bo and Luke would start swinging punches (always after being provoked, mind you). Even Catherine Bach in her tourniquet short shorts, cast iron pantyhose, and high heels would get in on the action smacking a customer with her tray or pushing someone over with her high heels.

It was awesome and it formed a good bit of my perspective on human relations. Nowadays, violence gets a bad rap. Everyone is so against it. I think this is mostly a viewpoint propogated by losers who fall into the fetal position weeping at the first good smack but nevertheless, the winers have taken over the worldview on violence and now we all have to be against it because they suck in a fight.

But let's just for a minute consider the application of the precious principle taught in The Dukes of Hazard- punch someone in the mouth and get over it. They didn't have bottled up feelings, ulcers, therapists, and call in talk shows. They punched the person they were mad at while they were mad at them and then in the next scene- the punchee and puncher were fine. They had acted and then they got over it.

Now we tell kids to "use their words". Great. More talking. The problem with words is there is an unlimited supply. Eventually, punching and getting punched back get old and it is time to stop. We'll call this "closure". But words can go on forever. Words focus attention and keep the drama going as long as the user has them. So now we have a culture that is all about verbal combat and confrontation. It is infinitely more damaging than a fat lip.

Let's return to the good old days. Deal with who you are mad at, when you are mad at them. Then get over it. A fat lip is a small price to pay for the de-whinification of our culture.