Old Dogs and New Tricks

Thank you ladies and gentlemen. Tonight's topic will be "New things I've learned while listenening to podcasts." As you know I'm quite a fan of this new internet phenomena called podcasting and I'd like to share something interesting I heard while listening to one of those podcasts today. The name of the particular podcast I'm referring to is The Rosary Army Catholic Podcast, and before you get up to leave let me just explain that it's not what it sounds like. Yes, it's a podcast but they aren't saying the Rosary, they don't have an Army, and you don't have to be a Catholic to listen. It's just a twice weekly show done by the husband and wife team of Greg and Jennifer who spend a half hour or so rambling on about whatever's going on in their life.

(Can you imagine anyone wanting to listen to someone ramble on and on about whatever's on their mind? I hope this sort of thing doesn't spill over into the blogosphere)

So I was listening to the Rosary Army today (that would be the March 14, 2006 broadcast for those of you taking notes) and I learned something I never knew before. Did you know that...

Well, maybe I should give a little background first. Greg and Jennifer have 2 sons that they talk about and share the podcast with from time to time, and, well, sons being sons I guess it's fair to say that they get a little rambunctious at times. Now I have some experience with this being that I used to be a son myself, and I remember quite well the many times that my brothers and I used to drive my mother crazy. I think that's all just a normal part of the mother-son relationship, and I think it was always accepted as such. Accepted, that is, until what we came to what has been called the "era of modern parenting".

I don't want to bore anyone by talking about the good ol' days here, but let's face it - parenting used to be different. Especially a hundred years ago when I was coming up. Back then whenever I would drive my mother crazy she would, as most mothers would, yell and scream and tell me to "knock it off", only my mother was japanese so she wouldn't use the words "knock it off" but their somewhat ruder japanese equivalents. Anyways, that was the way it was. Mothers didn't try to reason with their sons back then, they didn't coax or cajole or apologize to their sons for all of life's inequities. Mothers simply asserted their authority and that was the end of that.

Needless to say mothers don't do that anymore. Not in the "era of modern parenting". Let me tell you a little story.

Back when I was around 12 or so I got into a rock throwing contest with my friend D. Across the street from my house there was an empty lot and behind the lot there was small cliff, and my friend D and I were standing in the street and throwing rocks over the empty lot and over the cliff to see who could throw the highest and the farthest. It wasn't the most fun I've ever had in my life but it was something to do on a Saturday afternoon.

I should also explain that there was a house on top of the cliff and both D and I were very careful not to throw any rocks towards the house but rather to the empty area that sat beside the house. What we didn't know at the time but would learn later was that the owner of the house, Mr. O, had a son who happened to be visiting that day. What we also didn't know was that Mr. O's son had a little sports car that he had parked beside Mr. O's house while he was inside visiting. And of course what we never could have imagined was the kind of temper Mr. O's son would show when he heard something hit his car and found that someone had put a 3 foot crack in his windshield.

Of course, it didn't take Mr. O's son very long to put two and two together and figure out who did it, and to make a long story short he found out where the both of us lived and had a talk to our parents. And here's the point of my little story. My father, being the old-fashioned sort was none too pleased and, after writing a check for the damage, told me that as far as he was concerned Mr. O's son now owned me. That is, I was told to go up to Mr. O's house and tell his son I was sorry and ask him what I could do to work it off. Only after I had worked off the damage I had done could I return to him and ask to allowed back into the bosom of the family. That's the way it was done in the old days.

And that is why I spent the next weekend cleaning out Mr. O's garage as penance for my carelessness, and let me tell you if you could have seen Mr. O's garage then you might understand how high a price that was to pay. Personally, I think I would have rather just bought him a new windshield.

Anyways, as I was cleaning out Mr. O's garage who should I see standing across the street but D, my co-conspirator, sitting on his lawn and smoking a cigarette. D was two years younger than me but his parents let him smoke cigarettes in the house. My parents didn't let me smoke in the house until I was 17, and then they'd always give me grief for it. But D's parents were cool. He was only 10 but they'd still let him smoke in the house and his mom would even go out to the store to buy him cartons, but that wasn't until a few years later.

So like I said, there I was cleaning out that stinking junkpile of a garage and there was D kicking back on his lawn and smoking a cigarette because his parents didn't make him apologize to Mr. O's son or offer to work it off. That was because he had cool, modern parents, not the old fashioned ones like I did. I always resented him for that, but that was just the modern way. And nowdays, sheesh, if some kid breaks your windshield and you go up to his parents to tell him what he just did, they aren't going to get mad at the kid. They're going to get mad at you for making the accusation and you'll be lucky if they don't call the cops or take you to court and sue you.

"How dare you show anger towards my perfect child. Get out of here before I call the police."

That's the way it is, I'm telling ya'. Work it off? Are you kidding me? Just as an epilogue to my little story I should say that because of my old-fashioned parents I grew up to be a responsible, hard-working member of society and D grew up to be a lazy, indolent bum. I should say that but I don't think it's true. I mean it could be, but I don't know. You see D dropped out of school when he was 15 and was married with 2 kids (she had their first kid back when she was in high school) by the time he was 19, so his parents bought them a house in Tracy to kind of get them started, and that was the last time I ever saw any of them. Knowing how housing prices have gone up in California, I think it's a fair bet that D's doing just fine.

Now, where was I? Oh yeah, modern parenting. Like I said, I was listening to the Rosary Army Catholic Podcast and Jennifer (the mother) started talking about these 2 boys of hers. She said she had been worried that they always played so rowdy and rough so she decided to take them to something called a "Play" therapist.

Have you ever heard of that before?

I know I'm out of the loop on this stuff but do they really have therapists these days that teach children how to play? Oh brother, the things you learn by listening to podcasts. These poor kids. No sooner do you get them home from the hospital than you have to call the clinic and get them in to see their therapist. I mean you have to do that soon, don't you? Kids start playing pretty early on, don't they? I'm sure you don't want them playing on their own. Not without proper treatment first.

"Hi Sally. How's your little boy?"

"Oh he's wonderful."

"How old is he now?"

"He'll be four months on the 21st."

"Four months? Does he have a therapist yet?"

"Oh yes, we took him to see the shrink right away. We didn't want to wait, you know. We both thought the sooner the better."

"Well, what does the therapist say?"

"She was a little worried at first. She saw the way the baby was playing with the pacifier and thought he might be internalizing a little too much, you know? But we tried some exercises and everything seems to going ok now."

"Oh good. Better to nip it in the bud."

"Yeah. We're excited. In fact just last week the therapist told us that if all goes well with the rattler then it might be ok to start him in with his first rubber ducky in about another month or two."

"So soon?"

"Oh I know. I think we'll hold off a little while before we do that. Maybe get a second opinion."

"Good idea."

Oh well, they're not my kids so who am I to start talking. If Greg and Jennifer want take their sons to a "Play" therapist then more power to them. I kind of get the feeling that this is more Jennifer's idea than Greg's though. Don't you? You kind of get the feeling Greg's only going along with it because he doesn't want to argue about it anymore. That's the way it is with husbands sometimes. Wives just seem to wear them out.

Anyway, that's what I've learned while listening to podcasts. I want to thank you all for attending and have a safe drive home.