Okay, it's time. Actually it's been time for awhile now. Time to delete Netflix from my taskbar and put fingertips to keyboard. Even if it means vomiting all over these black Chiclets, it's okay, I figure it'll take me a few posts to really get the juices flowing so I should be safe, the keyboard cover is on it's way.
I have teenagers. I have teenagers who are not on "ThePlan". I was not on The Plan, neither was their mother or stepmother for that matter. What makes me think in any way shape or form of paternal fantasy that this tradition will not be repeated in my offspring? I'm a parent. I know from where I've been, which makes it all the more torturous. I can see the path that their attitudes are espousing, hell, I've walked it for years, I know every switchback and dead end.
But I'm learning, ever so slowly, and they are the means for my salvation.
Not long ago my younger son exclaimed, "Quit lecturing, I don't want to live your life."
After hyper-ventilating, disassociating and basically counting to ten, I was taken aback.
My god, of course. I couldn't see it but of course that's what it looks like to him.
All of my parental ramblings, spewing out in a diatribe of catch phrases including the eye rollers; Responsibility! Accountability! Choice! Consequences!
Pilling up like shell casings at his feet, the whole kit and kaboodle serving as a mangled template to living Dad's Wonderful Life?!
Son, I'm saying this with the hopes that you DON"T live my life!
Sigh.
I saw The Lion King, Simba's right, it's the Cirlce of Life and it's been going on for eons now, why should I think I'm exempt?
A few months ago in an attempt to bond with my younger son, we auditioned for a series of readings at the Playhouse Theater. We both landed in a production of Death of a Salesman.
Having had to study this play a few times over the last 40 years I've appreciated it as a classic but always dismissed it as outdated and boring, oh, and depressing.
Even though neither of us had very big roles we were looking forward to sharing the experience. After the first table read through as we were sitting, a little shell shocked in the car,
I turned to him and said, "I've dismissed this play for 40 years....but in the middle of this reading, I realized, I'm LIVING it!"
Hap/Quinn said with a smile, "Yeah, I thought that too!"
Granted, I am not Wilie Loman, yet, I've got ten years to figure some stuff out or I will be.
No, but I am at the crossroads. Okay, maybe down the road a bit, but still, I have to be honest with myself, I think we are all at a turning poin,t but for me, and my life, something has to change.
But I've said it all before.
It's time to Nike up.
I just need to read my ten pages a day, and keep writing.
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