Masters of Gilligan

Human Nature

As a dad, one thing I'm dreading is the day that some smart-ass kid plants a seed of doubt about Santa in Adam or Kate's mind.

Oh, it's inevitable, I suppose.  Adam, in particular, is pretty logical, so he may just figure it out himself before too long.  Either way, I don't look forward at all to the day when that little bit of childhood magic gets taken away from them forever.

I was reminded of that dread while driving home and hearing of the death of Michael Jackson.

Let me take you back a few years, to the early '90's.  With a freshly-minted advanced degree in communications in hand, and a decision made to stay in a town where said degree was all but useless, I flailed about for a bit trying to find some ways to at least PRETEND to be putting my training to use.

One of the things I came up with was dj'ing weddings and parties.

Yeah, cheesy, but the cash wasn't bad, and it was fun.  For a while, anyway -- then it got to be a drag, but that's another story.

I got a booking for a weekday afternoon gig at an elementary school in Bloomfield.  I was a little apprehensive about the gig for a couple of reasons -- not the least of which was that kids always want the very latest music, and I wasn't particularly well-stocked in the then-current Top 40.  To put it more bluntly, this was an "urban" school (or even more bluntly, a school with primarily African-American kids) and I didn't have a whole lot of rap.

I needn't have worried -- the kids brought their own music.  I was there basically to provide the amp and speakers, which suited me fine.  The kids gathered around me, handed me their tapes (all of which they promised had "no swears" -- a guarantee which I'd say was accurate in about 50% of the cases) and I'd pop them in, let them play, and repeat the process.  As is always the case, the more gregarious kids got to hear a lot more of their music.

One tiny little kid caught my eye, though.  He kept coming up towards me, then either walking away or getting shoved aside by the bigger, rowdier kids.  Finally, he screwed up the courage to approach me, and make his request.

"Can you please play some Michael Jackson?"

The other kids nearby hooted and hollered and did everything they could to keep me from playing MJ.  The first Bone Thugs album had just come out, and they wanted that and pretty much nothing else.  (I later figured out that the "Explicit Lyrics" sticker had been carefully scratched off of the tape they kept shoving at me.)

This little kid was so polite, and so clearly taken with Michael Jackson, I couldn't help myself -- I put on "Thriller" and then "Bad."  The other kids called me pretty much every name in the book, but my friend was happy as could be, and I figured if he didn't mind the derision he was getting, why should I?

Anyway, that little kid was the first thing I thought of when I heard of MJ's death.  He'd be in his late teens by now, and probably long over his Michael Jackson affectation -- but maybe not. 

I've thought of that kid every time MJ hit the news for some horrific new allegation, and how hearing the news of his hero's failings and personal demons must've hit him like the inevitable Santa revelation will for my kids -- only in this case, it's as if Santa himself had pulled the rug out, as Jackson did so many times to his faithful.

It's Official

I am no longer a part of the '30-something' club.  I don't have a problem turning the big 4-0; it's just a number (although I might need reminded of that fact ten years from now). 

One benefit is that turning 40 gave me an excuse to have a party, not that I really needan excuse, but it helps to have a reason so your friends will show up.  So we planned a party and most of our friends showed up.  We had it at a local bar that has a beach theme, so we all sat around the fire pit with white sand between our toes, palm trees swaying in the wind and a waterfall nearby all night long.  It was a fantastic time, although I am convinced that there was little to no rum in the daiquiris because I drank about 4 of the them without any side effects whatsoever.  None. Nada. Zilch.

So my hubby and my friends made the transition into my 40's as painless as possible.  Secretly 97% of them are all glad that I am finally joining them in this not-so-exclusive club.  The other 3% haven't turned 40 yet so they probably feel sorry for me.

For this momentous occasion, Bob bought me a gift that I would never have bought for myself even though I really, really wanted to.  Now I am not a NASCAR fan, or even a racing fan in general.  I just like to drive fast.  So on August 10th, yours truly will be learning to drive a race car at Richard Petty's Driving Experience.  They are going to show me how to drive the car safely and then are going to let me loose for 8 laps around the track.   Of course I'll have to reintroduce myself to driving a manual transmission, but that should be like riding a bike.  AWESOME.

Hodge Podge

Adam had his end of Kindergarten program yesterday afternoon.  At least they were not calling it graduation.  You graduate from high school and college, not from kindergarten.  In his "what I want to be when I grow up" picture he drew for the program, he apparently wants to be a hockey player.  As do several of the other boys in the class.  My guess is that if it had been Super B0wl time he would want to be a football player.  The other day he told us that he wanted to learn Chinese.   So maybe one day we'll have a chinese speaking, hockey playing son. 

When I first heard about the mysterious disappearance of Air France flight 447, the first thing that popped into my head was that they were all on a mysterious island that had a smoke monster, hostiles and weird pods with names like The Swan.  Sad, but completely and embarrassingly true.

Why can't they make the voice recorder and data box out of a material that would allow them to float if a plane goes down in water?  Scientists at the Materials Research Society I am looking in your general direction.

Sometimes I wish I had a phone that had a camera on it.  If I did I could have taken a photo of the armored vehicle that was in front of me along Allegheny River Blvd this morning that had the two locks on its back door open.  Yes that's right, the two locks on the back door were open.  Clear as day.

A big tip of the hat to the Pittsburgh Penguins who pulled off an amazing win in game 6 of the Stanley Cup Finals.  If they play that was in Detroit on Friday night, we might have another championship team here in Pittsburgh.  Take note management of the Pirates, we could have the trifecta of sports if you got your act together and actually started to care whether you had a winning team instead of just caring about the profits. 

The British magazine The Economist declared Pittsburgh the most livable city in the United States and 29th worldwide.  So we have that going for us, which is nice.  We also have the G20 summit coming in September.  It is our city's time to shine in the world spotlight.  Let's not screw it up.  Mayor Lukeand Dan Onarato I am looking in your general direction.