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| The Four Justices, by Nelson Shanks (National Portrait Gallery). Sonia Sotomayor, upper left, and Elena Kagan. Seated: Sandra Day O’Connor, left, and Ruth Bader Ginsburg |
Though I of course will not strand you here, but keep up a steady stream of past columns that resonate with the present day. Here I go to bat for privacy, plus a couple other items — and if you think I must have loved encountering the "popsicle" vignette, you're right. That teenager, now grown to adulthood, had a baby 10 days ago.
This is from when the column filled a page, and I've kept the original subheadings.
OPENING SHOT . . .
If only Bill Clinton had snapped, "That's none of your business," when a student asked him whether he wore boxers or briefs. He might have saved us our descent into this current low state.
Lots of e-mail about Friday's item on the nomination to the Supreme Court of Sonia Sotomayor.
The best line came from Paul Sadowski.
"She edited the Yale Law Review, she has a distinguished record," he wrote. "Why does the coverage read exactly like the blurb of an American Girl doll?"
Let me take a swing at that. At some point, our society lost its hold on the idea of public figures having private lives — also blame Oprah.
While Franklin Roosevelt managed to get elected, four times, without mentioning polio, the first thing that anybody does today who wants a Senate seat, a judgeship or the presidency is hop on the couch and start talking about how much it hurt when Rinty got hit by a car.
Can't we go back to the old way? So Sarah Palin could run without waving her daughter's bedsheets over her head? Or Joe Biden could accept a nomination without shining a light into the deepest depths of his family tragedy? I guess not.
HAPPY NEW 4,600,000,009!!!
I try not to lobby for things that are never going to happen. So even if I believed that, for instance, children should call adults by honorifics — "Mr. Smith" or "Mrs. Jones" instead of "Bill" or "Edna" or "hey you" — I'd never seriously suggest that in a column because it would go nowhere and seem naive.
Nor would I advocate a return to antimacassars — those doilies designed to keep the backs of chairs from being soiled by hair tonic -- or urge we go back to vinyl records.
And yet. I have a soft spot for people who tilt at windmills, despite the odds, who devote their lives to the Esperanto Club, or to boosting the metric system.
Meet Ed Geary, 47, of Villa Park. Ed has been lobbying me with periodic calls and letters. I have tried ignoring him. But he pressed onward. As much as I don't want to encourage perseverance in readers, at some point you have to admit defeat.
So Ed, the stage is yours. Make your case:
"Do you think the United States knows what year it is? What religious electioneering for Jesus is? What true separation of church and state is?" he began, pointing out that despite official separation of church and state, we nevertheless use the Georgian calendar, which dates back to the birth of Jesus, approximately.
"This B.C., meaning Before Christ and A.D., meaning Anno Domini, which is Latin for year of the Lord, is religious electioneering by the United States government," he continued. "I do not think it's right to make a person use a religious calendar for civic affairs. The calendar should be upgraded and revised. . . . Scientist say the Earth, moon and meteorites are four billion, six hundred million years old. I think time should be based on the age of the Earth, not on the birth of a religious leader."
Thus, according to Geary's proposed calendar, Sunday would not be May 31, 2009 A.D., but May 31, 4B600M09.
There you have it. Before we close the curtain, I had to ask — is this his first cause, or were there others?
"I was real big on health care," he admitted. And why did he give up on that? "I just don't think it's ever going to happen."
WHO'S YOUR DADDY?
Speaking of what children call adults . . .
"Have a good day, popsicle," my 13-year-old said breezily as he left for school one morning last week.
"You, too," I said. "Love you."
"Popsicle" is acceptable because it is a form of "Pop." I also get "Pa" and "Dad" and "Father," when he's asking for something, and "mon pere," since he's studying French. For a while, he tried to get away with "Pap," after we read Huck Finn, but Huck's pappy is not exactly the paternal image I want associated with myself, so I asked him to stop.
Nor is "Neil" acceptable. He'd occasionally try out a "pass the lemonade, please, Neil," and I'd continue staring straight ahead. He'd say it a second time and I'd mutter, "It's 'Dad' to you, bub."
Everybody is free to parent however they like, unfortunately. But I just can't understand parents who let their kids call them by their first names. It isn't as if kids don't have plenty of other people in the world they can address casually. Mothers and fathers go through a lot for their kids, from the hellish 2 a.m. forced march of baby-rearing to the constant what-do-I-do-NOW? crises of childhood and the how-could-I-have-gone-so-wrong? teen years to the financial cataclysm of college. You've worked hard for that "Mom" or "Dad," so the least your kid can do is call you by the title you so richly earned.
Yes, I understand there is a counterargument — the whole touchy-feely 1970s friendship circle trip, where parents want to be pals with their kids and not oppress them with rules or authority.
Space dwindles, so the simplest way to address that view is: They're wrong. It's a romantic gloss on childhood ("You don't need direction," Carole King sings, idiotically, in "Child of Mine," "you know which way to go") that ignores the truth that the average toddler will beat another child senseless over a cookie unless there is an adult there to stop him.
OPENING SHOT . . .
If only Bill Clinton had snapped, "That's none of your business," when a student asked him whether he wore boxers or briefs. He might have saved us our descent into this current low state.
Lots of e-mail about Friday's item on the nomination to the Supreme Court of Sonia Sotomayor.
The best line came from Paul Sadowski.
"She edited the Yale Law Review, she has a distinguished record," he wrote. "Why does the coverage read exactly like the blurb of an American Girl doll?"
Let me take a swing at that. At some point, our society lost its hold on the idea of public figures having private lives — also blame Oprah.
While Franklin Roosevelt managed to get elected, four times, without mentioning polio, the first thing that anybody does today who wants a Senate seat, a judgeship or the presidency is hop on the couch and start talking about how much it hurt when Rinty got hit by a car.
Can't we go back to the old way? So Sarah Palin could run without waving her daughter's bedsheets over her head? Or Joe Biden could accept a nomination without shining a light into the deepest depths of his family tragedy? I guess not.
HAPPY NEW 4,600,000,009!!!
I try not to lobby for things that are never going to happen. So even if I believed that, for instance, children should call adults by honorifics — "Mr. Smith" or "Mrs. Jones" instead of "Bill" or "Edna" or "hey you" — I'd never seriously suggest that in a column because it would go nowhere and seem naive.
Nor would I advocate a return to antimacassars — those doilies designed to keep the backs of chairs from being soiled by hair tonic -- or urge we go back to vinyl records.
And yet. I have a soft spot for people who tilt at windmills, despite the odds, who devote their lives to the Esperanto Club, or to boosting the metric system.
Meet Ed Geary, 47, of Villa Park. Ed has been lobbying me with periodic calls and letters. I have tried ignoring him. But he pressed onward. As much as I don't want to encourage perseverance in readers, at some point you have to admit defeat.
So Ed, the stage is yours. Make your case:
"Do you think the United States knows what year it is? What religious electioneering for Jesus is? What true separation of church and state is?" he began, pointing out that despite official separation of church and state, we nevertheless use the Georgian calendar, which dates back to the birth of Jesus, approximately.
"This B.C., meaning Before Christ and A.D., meaning Anno Domini, which is Latin for year of the Lord, is religious electioneering by the United States government," he continued. "I do not think it's right to make a person use a religious calendar for civic affairs. The calendar should be upgraded and revised. . . . Scientist say the Earth, moon and meteorites are four billion, six hundred million years old. I think time should be based on the age of the Earth, not on the birth of a religious leader."
Thus, according to Geary's proposed calendar, Sunday would not be May 31, 2009 A.D., but May 31, 4B600M09.
There you have it. Before we close the curtain, I had to ask — is this his first cause, or were there others?
"I was real big on health care," he admitted. And why did he give up on that? "I just don't think it's ever going to happen."
WHO'S YOUR DADDY?
Speaking of what children call adults . . .
"Have a good day, popsicle," my 13-year-old said breezily as he left for school one morning last week.
"You, too," I said. "Love you."
"Popsicle" is acceptable because it is a form of "Pop." I also get "Pa" and "Dad" and "Father," when he's asking for something, and "mon pere," since he's studying French. For a while, he tried to get away with "Pap," after we read Huck Finn, but Huck's pappy is not exactly the paternal image I want associated with myself, so I asked him to stop.
Nor is "Neil" acceptable. He'd occasionally try out a "pass the lemonade, please, Neil," and I'd continue staring straight ahead. He'd say it a second time and I'd mutter, "It's 'Dad' to you, bub."
Everybody is free to parent however they like, unfortunately. But I just can't understand parents who let their kids call them by their first names. It isn't as if kids don't have plenty of other people in the world they can address casually. Mothers and fathers go through a lot for their kids, from the hellish 2 a.m. forced march of baby-rearing to the constant what-do-I-do-NOW? crises of childhood and the how-could-I-have-gone-so-wrong? teen years to the financial cataclysm of college. You've worked hard for that "Mom" or "Dad," so the least your kid can do is call you by the title you so richly earned.
Yes, I understand there is a counterargument — the whole touchy-feely 1970s friendship circle trip, where parents want to be pals with their kids and not oppress them with rules or authority.
Space dwindles, so the simplest way to address that view is: They're wrong. It's a romantic gloss on childhood ("You don't need direction," Carole King sings, idiotically, in "Child of Mine," "you know which way to go") that ignores the truth that the average toddler will beat another child senseless over a cookie unless there is an adult there to stop him.
— Originally published in the Sun-Times, May 31, 2009
my mother called me Frank and I called her Beverly she was barely 17 when I was born. been dead 2 years now. miss her dearly. we were good friends .
ReplyDeletemy sons call me franco. a Nic name I picked up working with hispanic people later in life . I dont care what they call me. so long as they call.
sorry for your loss
As in Francisco Franco? The dictator? He ruled Spain for almost forty years. I knew a Vincent Franco. He was a painter. As in canvases, not walls and houses.
DeleteMy sympathy to you and your family.
ReplyDeleteDeepest sympathies for your mother’s passing.
ReplyDeleteMy mother was always Mother, never mama or mom or Marge. But my father was Daddy until the day he died when I was 31. In my mind, he's still Daddy tho I am now 80 and he's been gone for 49 years.
ReplyDeleteBut what name have you chosen for the new arrival to call you? I recently realized that my son in law ….brought up in an old school Russian family…. called his grandparents but their first names. His parents though are “mom” and “ dad” even when he proceeds the rest of his statement in Russian
ReplyDeleteI think I'd have preferred "grandpa" — I had a Grandpa Irv I loved. But Edie wants to be a "bubbie," and "bubbie and grandpa" sound like bagels and jam. So I'm going to go with "zaydie" — Yiddish for "grandpa." Though given the girl's heritage, I won't be surprised if she called me, "old dude."
DeletePaul McCartney is "Grand-dude" to the kids.
DeleteSo sorry for your loss.
Making my final push for "Saba", grandpa in Hebrew. Sounds stronger. Bubbie and Saba. Lox and bagels.
DeleteMourning is love and meaning made evident - your mother must be full of love and pride for all her son became.
ReplyDeleteI can't help thinking that your last sentence needs an addition: "... and then grow up to become President of the United States."
ReplyDeleteIn Anthony Trollope's first novel, The Macdermots of Ballycloran, published in 1847, Trollope has the two grownup children of fifty-year-old Lawrence Macdermot call him "Larry" without explanation.
ReplyDeletejohn
No need to comment or explain, Neil. Family matters are family matters. You understand we all wish you well.
ReplyDeleteI know how much you will miss her. So very sorry for your heartache. How is your father?
ReplyDeleteGood that you checked him on that disrespect. I suppose he wouldn't dare try that on the Mom.
ReplyDeleteI suspect it was more jocular limit-testing than disrespect. Respect can’t be forced, anyway.
DeleteI like the son's moxie and sense of humor, though. I can easily imagine Mr S as a kid through his son's comments.
ReplyDelete"Speaking of what children call adults . . ."
ReplyDeleteI had a cousin, younger than me, who, even when we were little, called my father by his first name. I assume because that's what she heard his siblings calling him. Plus, it was a diminutive version of his first name. I thought it was really obnoxious. Uh, clearly, I've never gotten over it!
She called the other aunts and uncles by their first names, too, but that didn't bother me quite the same way, though it was similarly off-putting.
"Everybody is free to parent however they like, unfortunately."
"Space dwindles, so the simplest way to address that view is: They're wrong."
Now, that's the way to cut to the chase in an opinion column!
Sympathies on your loss. Be safe and take time for yourself.
ReplyDeleteI am glad for you and your family that there is a new person arriving just as an old one is departing. I don't know your mother's awareness in her last days, but I would like to believe that at some level she knew that a (first?) great-grandchild had arrived and thus the grief at her passing could be somewhat lightened by the joy of the arrival.
ReplyDeleteof course. take all the time you need
ReplyDelete