I is havin' a young 'un. Well, my wife is, actually. I'm little more than a bystander and occasional advisor. I'm a fan, I suppose. I'm a big-time fan of my wife and her baby, and I spend a lot of my free time rooting for them.
The baby is currently called Figgy Plumbum, because for a while, he/she was between the size of a fig and a plum, according to the baby books. Actually, he/she/it is more the size of an apple right now, so I suppose we should change his/her/its/their name to Figgy Applebum. My plan is to have a different name for him/her/it/them/whose every time he/she/it/they/we/how gets larger. So be the time he/she/it/they/wheretofore/inasmuch gets to be the size of a breadbox, we'll be telling Breadbox to get the hell over here. When he/she/it/why/tired-of-this gets to be a teenager, we'll call him/her Leopard on Its Hind Legs. You get the idea.
I've been very excited about having a kid as long as I can remember. Mainly because I want a person to control. Apparently, slavery is no longer legal (thank you, federal government, for controlling our lives!), so a baby is the best route for human domination. And I've got a lot of lessons to brand into lil' Figgy's fertile brain.
Lesson No. 1. Get a credit card in college. I was a headstrong and defiant young adult. Not in the sense of actually doing anything revolutionary, of course. I was more in the vein of not doing things that normal people just do. I didn't like insurance, for example. Still don't. It seems pansy-ass to me. "Oh, what if my house burns down? Better get fire insurance. Oh, what if my ears fall off? Better get ear insurance." You spend all your life and money hedging yourself against terrible things -- that's the life of a paranoid little weiner, not a grown adult who realizes that risk is a part of life. And you know you always come out badly in the deal, because look at the crazy profits insurance companies make. And look how hard it is to get them to actually pay when you need them to, to actually do the only service that you're paying them so much money to do. Why not just put that money in a savings account instead? Then that money could cover you for any number of disasters, not just one type. And you'll have more money, because you're not paying so much to the insurance company to cover their "taking people's money" costs. Moreover, the chance that you're going to have a fire in which your ears fall off before that savings account builds up sufficiently is vanishingly small. And that's the thing -- any disaster is possible. It's a matter of how probable it is. Life is about playing the percentages, and there is a very small-percentage chance that an ear-severing fire will overtake my condo, so I refuse to worry about it.
Anyway. Got off track there. That's not a lesson I'm going to teach my kid. Yes, you do need auto insurance and health insurance and life insurance, sigh. Just don't go into the insurance industry or I will kill you and then disown you and then kill you again for good measure.
What was I talking about? Oh yeah, credit cards. Listen up, kid, I got a story here. Go get me another beer first. And in a glass this time, dipshit!
OK, gimme that beer. Now listen up! Credit cards. Get one in college. When you're in college, the credit card companies are falling all over themselves to get the chance to get in line to purchase a ticket to be considered to be allowed to give you a credit card. But as soon as you're out of college and don't have a very good job (because no one does straight out of college), they suddenly become Entertainment Tonight to your former boy band full of 40-year-olds. That is, you've suddenly gone from flavor of the month to begging for change outside of Baskin Robbins. You're old news, hotshot! Fizzo! Floparoonie! Plummetini! Collapsiogo! Not-doing-terribly-well-aroski-meier!
Me, I was all righteously indignant about credit cards (see: insurance). I thought credit cards were a plot to get me to spend beyond my means. And then I'd have to pay extra money to the credit card company each month, and that money would compound indefinitely until I end up paying twice for everything. And they'd jigger the rules whenever they felt like it to keep me paying.
And all of this is true, of course. But, like insurance, they're a necessary evil. As long as you're smart about it, you can win against the credit card companies. Ditto for insurance, sort of.
So get a credit card in college. Don't use it unless you need to. I ain't going to be there to bail you out when you overspend. Hell, look at this shitty apartment -- you think I got the scratch to bail out your skinny little ass? Ever since your mother left me and I lost my job and my ears fell off in that fire, I ... OK, cancel that vision of the future; it's too depressing.
Lesson Number 2. Never, ever, ever, ever room with an attractive person of a complementary sexual persuasion. Even if they're of the opposite sexual persuasion you should think twice. In fact, best to not room with anyone. Avoid people altogether. Live as a hermit in the woods. Make sure you have a good internet connection, though, so I can email you funny jokes. Here's one: What do you call a lawyer who is eaten an alligator? A: I don't know, but it's probably something bad! Ha!
But most of all, don't room with a friend who you could conceivably in some universe have a romantic attachment to. It's one of the most painful things in the world. Especially when you fall for that person big-time, he/she/it rejects you, and you have to go home each night and greet that rejection with a smile. And you get to watch he/she/it go on dates/go into a back room with far inferior mates. And you have to pretend to continue to be the person's friend, while simultaneously and covertly trying to convince that person of how awesome you are, and how he/she should change his/her mind. But of course they don't, because you're "a friend." That is, you're nice but unattractive. And your convincing imitation of a good, caring person will only get your love object to value your friendship even more. So then you spend more agonizing hours with that person as a friend. You end up anxious all the time, especially when you're around the person. But you think you're in love with the person, so you have to keep trying.
In short, it's absolute torture. The first time it happened to me, after college, it was awful. Then I immediately moved into another place with another attractive woman. Of course the exact same thing happened. But this time, my body started to reject my behavior. I was so anxious all the time that I developed a bad stomach condition. I'd get up each morning and puke bile into the toilet. I went through a bunch of tests and ended up on some prescription antacids. But I was still anxious all the time and couldn't eat anything that wasn't very bland, or my stomach would just hurt worse. (It's a good diet plan, by the way. I lost a lot of weight. My stomach almost ate itself, but hey, I looked slightly thinner temporarily!)
That's enough lessons for now. Daddy's tired. Now you can go eatch Elmo.
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5 comments:
This post is depressing, but it made me think about lessons I have learned. Unfortunately, they are similarly depressing. Most would involve lessons like "play the game, even though it seems stupid and you feel like a sell-out, because once you get to the top you get to wear gym shorts to work and act like a crazy person and it will all be worth it". Hmm, actually, that might be relevant only to my desired profession.
My other advice might be to buy used stuff. That is a big money saver. Another lesson I should have learned but was very stubborn about for some reason was: just go to the dermatologist and get some acne cream. I refused and now all these pictures of me with zits on my face all the time make me feel sorry for my younger self.
That credit card one really is good advice, though.
My head is spinning. THAT is what you'd teach your kids?????? Actually, it's all really good advice. I take my question marks back. Ed, I forgot about your "insurance is pessimism" argument. Brings back good memories. Your credit card advice is good, but it will probably be hopelessly obsolete (like cell phones) by the time your little angel is in college. Her thumbprint will probably have been registered to a mandatory bank account by the time she is in junior high for the purpose of paying for lunch using an automatic withdrawl system. By college, she'll probably be saying, exasperatedly, "Da-ad, you're such a dork; it's not that hard" as you fumble with your own, reluctantly-acquired newfangled thumbprint. Or tongue-scan. Or whatever.
The roommate advice is also good, but unlikely to be heeded. The zit cream advice is good, too. I once asked my mom what purpose zits serve and she answered, with atypical brevity, "humility." As if teens need more of that. And, frankly, that makes absolutely no evolutionary sense.
I'd like to say I have big plans about all the stuff I'm going to teach my kids, but the reality is that I'm really just desperately trying to figure out how to help my kids grow into nice, average, self-supporting people who have friends and aren't psychopaths. But if nothing else, I will tell them this: if you don't want to go door-to-door selling expensive bulk frozen pizzas for band, you don't have to. Your mommy will just write you a check (or thumbprint) to spare you the humiliation.
Oh yeah, a lot of other lessons are going to be drawn from what my parents did wrong. No forcing the kids into extra-curricular activities if they're painfully shy and just not joiners at heart. So maybe they won't get into Carleton -- big deal. They'll probably still get into University of Chicago or some other school made for asocial dorks.
I'm sick and tired of all these parents out there who go on and on about all the "lessons" they want to pass on to their kids. About how they want their kids to be "responsible", "productive", "thoughtful", or "happy". About how "I don't want them to make the same mistakes I made." Please.
Kids today are coddled beyond belief. Haven't parents these days ever heard of "Spare the rod and spoil the child"? How about the Law of Club and Fang? Do Jack London's admonitions now fall on deaf ears?
Parents, I implore you - the age of treating children like something precious needs to end now. With all due respect to Vanessa Williams, I don't believe that children are our future - I believe that adults are our future. If you don't tell your children that they are disappointments, then perhaps NO ONE EVER WILL. Do we really want that? How will kids develop the resentment/inferiority complexes that will motivate them to do better than their parents, and thereby advance society? With natural curiosity and positively reinforced self-worth? Ha!
Okay - enough of that. I ask you all for your indulgence of my patently ridiculous tirades. Also, I love my mom and dad, and they spared the rod. Although my mom did read Wild Animals I Have Known to us, which is kind of Club and Fang-y.
I'm with Joe. I'm going to tell my kids the opposite of the right thing, and let them learn about life the hard way. I'm going to tell them to take drugs and drop out of school and have babies when they're really young, because that way your partner will have to stay with you. Then if they ever call me on my terrible advice, I'll just say I was being ironic.
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