The Kiss Mommy Incident

A coworker of mine had their birthday last week and a couple of other people who are older than him were giving him some good natured ribbing about getting older. All three of the people involved are older than me, by two, three and five years. They were telling him that in a couple more years he could start getting the senior discount, which he was insisting was not something that he had any intention of using. His feeling was that even when he could take the discount, he would not. The oldest of the group told him that was how she felt, too, until she got to the age where you can get the senior discount. Now she takes the discount any time she can.

Being the type of guy that I am, I put in my two cents worth that I will definitely take the senior discount when I’m eligible. Why wouldn’t you take it? Because of pride, not wanting people to know you’re getting older? Hey, I know that I look older, so I’m sure others can see it, too. Besides, I’ll gladly take a 10% discount just because I’m 55 years old. It’s not like you have to do something to get the discount. What if they made you do 25 pushups to get it? Or worse, made it like a field sobriety test and made you close your eyes, tilt your head back and touch your nose, or recite the alphabet backwards, or walk along a painted line by putting one foot in front of another, heel to toe. You don’t pass the tests, you don’t get the discount. I lose my balance drying off after a shower at times, what’s it going to be like in 10 or 20 years? I think there would be a lot of people not getting the discount, me included.

A moment of pride when I was about 12 years old is the stuff of legend in my family and is still talked about today. You see, we didn’t go to the beach much when I was a kid, probably having to do with packing all of us kids into the car along with blankets, towels and a cooler, and then driving 45 – 60 minutes to the beach with no air conditioning. The are-we-almost-there-yets would have started after about ten minutes and driven Dad crazy. But one fine summer day, the neighbors across the street offered to take us “three little ones” to the beach with them. We all quickly accepted, got ready to go and that’s when the trouble started.

My sister kissed Mom goodbye and started across the street followed by my younger brother, who did the same. I was at that age where I thought I was too cool to kiss her goodbye so I was trying to get out the door without doing it. However, Mom was having no part of that and insisted that I kiss her goodbye. My three older brothers, teenagers at the time, just happened to be there and starting giving me a hard time and saying “Kiss Mommy” in high pitched voices. My pride kicked in and I refused to kiss Mom goodbye and she reiterated that I couldn’t go without doing it. In the meantime, my older brothers kept up the “Kiss Mommy” chant, which was getting louder as the situation started to spin out of control. 

One of them even started giving a play-by-play of what was happening across the street at the neighbor’s house, looking back and forth from the window to me. It went something like this (the names have been omitted to protect the guilty):

Brother #1: They’re coming out of their house.

Brother #2 and #3: Kiss Mommy! Kiss Mommy!

Brother #1: They’re putting their stuff in the car.

Brother #2 and #3: Kiss Mommy! Kiss Mommy!

Brother #1: They’re getting in the car!

Brother #2 and #3: Kiss Mommy! Kiss Mommy!

Brother #1: They’re backing out of the driveway!

Brother #2 and #3: KISS MOMMY! KISS MOMMY!

Brother #1: They’re about to go. LAST CHANCE!

Brother #1, #2 and #3: KISS MOMMY! KISS MOMMY!

Mom looked at me, waiting. I looked at her and at my three older brothers with their big, goofy smiles and with one last prideful stand I said I wouldn’t do it (meaning kiss her goodbye). Then, seeming like the only sound in the whole neighborhood was that of their car accelerating up the street, the neighbors, my younger brother and my sister were off to the beach, while I stayed home. And all because I was too stubborn to kiss my mother goodbye. I don’t really remember much about the rest of that day, but I’m sure the two who went to the beach had a much better day than I did, and I’m sure that the three older brothers had a better day than I did, too.

Sure, we joke about it now, but I learned a good lesson that day. I missed a fun day at the beach because I let my pride stop me from doing something simple – kissing my Mom goodbye – because of what I perceived others might think. So when I’m 55 and can get a senior discount, I’m not going to let what others might possibly think about me stop me. No sir, I’m taking that discount. That is, unless they make me recite the alphabet backwards while closing my eyes, tilting my head back and touching my nose.      

My Birthday

My birthday was last week and it was quite a drop off from last year. Before I go any further, let me say that this is not a criticism of anyone, especially my wife and kids. Last year was my 50^th so we had a party at my house with family and friends, and it was awesome. For those without math skills, this year was my 51^st. Go to any card store and I can guarantee that there aren’t any “Happy 51^st Birthday” cards. So, it was kind of a non-event compared to last year.

It’s kind of strange how we do that with birthdays. There are Sweet 16 parties, usually for girls, but nothing for 17. Have the girls gone from sweet to bitter in just one year? That would be terrible if someone did. Then when someone turns 18, the birthday is a big deal again, probably because kids graduate high school and we see that age as when someone becomes an adult. Then comes 19 and nothing, you’re just a year older. Maybe it’s just the even years that count for something, so you’d think 20 would be a big deal, but it’s not. Ah, but 21 is a big year because then you can legally buy and drink alcohol. Then nothing for the next few years until you get to 25, which is usually a big one. I don’t know if it’s because you’re a quarter of a century old or because many young people start thinking they’re getting old. Some day they’ll look back at that and realize how silly their thinking was.  

After that we celebrate 30, then 40, then 50. Nothing in between those years matters, they’re just numbers. Go to any party store and try to find a “Happy 34^th Birthday!” banner. There aren’t any, but there’ll be one for 30 and 40. Maybe it’s our young-is-good-old-is-bad culture that says anyone over 30 is old that makes us stop celebrating the years in between the nice round numbers. Not to mention there’s always one wise guy who gives you the “over the hill” birthday card when you’re 35, as if you’ve seen your best days. To have seen your best days at 35, now that would be terrible.

When I was growing up, we didn’t do a lot for birthdays. We got a card, a cake and everyone sang “Happy Birthday”. I’m not complaining. We had at least six kids at home as far back as I can remember and couldn’t afford to invite our friends over and have big parties like some of my friends did. Besides, I’ve never been one to refuse a homemade chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and a little bit of ice cream on the side. Yum!

One of my friends took about ten of us mini golfing one year for his birthday, to go along with his cake and ice cream. I found out that day that cake and ice cream do not go well with golf clubs on a warm June day. The next year, he took me and a couple other friends to a Red Sox game! No cake and no ice cream, but plenty of hot dogs, soda and popcorn - and no, we did not have peanuts and Cracker Jack. As a side note, I still have the program from that game in my memorabilia pile.

I think that we should make a big deal out of every birthday we have, especially as we get “older”. Statistically speaking, you have a bigger chance of not making your next birthday as you get older, so why not celebrate every one of them? Not to sound morbid, but you just never know which one could be your last. My son, who turned 16 a month ago, told me that one of his classmates, whom he’s known since elementary school, has cancer. My wife’s uncle died not long after his 40th birthday. My grandmother lived to 98! You just never know.

Overall, I did have a great birthday this year, even though there wasn’t a big party. I relaxed, I watched the home team win their hockey game, I got a bunch of birthday wishes on Facebook and I got some phone calls and emails from family. But the best part of my day, heck the whole weekend, was spending time with my wife and kids. We went out to dinner and talked and had fun. After dinner we went back to the house and watched Get Smart and laughed some more. That is what I’ll remember about my 51^st birthday; the time I got to spend with the people I love the most – my family.

And starting now, I’m going to make sure that I make a big deal out of everyone’s birthday, including my own, no matter what number it is.

Scooch Over

Sometimes the things people say just make me laugh, even when they’re not supposed to be funny. Little sayings, phrases and words strike me as humorous, even when I’ve heard them many times before. I often wonder where they came from and who started them. I think that maybe most weren’t real words to begin with, but some guy had a senior moment, forgot the word he wanted to say and made up another word. Maybe others thought it was funny or sounded cool and started a new trend.

Here’s an example that happened last week at work. A coworker and I were looking at a problem and he was having a hard time seeing my computer screen so he told me to “scooch over”. I started laughing because I haven’t heard that word for a long time and I mentioned to him that usually older people, and usually older women, are the only people who say “scooch over”. Then as I thought about it, I realized that it actually sounded kind of rude. Say you’ve messed up something really bad and your boss is a bit agitated and wants to talk to you about it:

You: I’m sorry, I guess I missed that.

Boss: Well that little miss is going to cost us a pile of money. What were you thinking?

You: I said I’m sorry. What do you want me to do?

Boss: Scooch over!

Sounds like a profanity substitute to me. So maybe you should be a little careful if you’re someone who uses that word.

I think it ranks right up there with the quantity “a smidge”. As in, how much sugar should I put in this recipe? Oh, just a smidge. I mean, how much is that – more than a pinch or less? Should I use the measuring spoons to figure it out? Is there a conversion table somewhere (2 pinches = 1 smidge)? And that can sound a bit derogatory, too, if applied to someone. “That Sully, he’s just a little smidge.” I hope no one says that about me.

Growing up, Mom used some silly phrases, but since she always used them we didn’t think anything of it. We didn’t laugh at them either, at least not when we were really young, but maybe when we got up to our teens. I’m sure it was a huge undertaking every morning to get all of us kids out the door and off to school and do it on time. We had a routine and there wasn’t a lot of time for goofing around in the morning. However, kids being kids, there were times we just weren’t on task and had to be moved along. At those times, Mom would tell us to stop “dillydallying”. What if we were just dillying and not dallying, was that OK? Probably not. Maybe it’s a phrase that is only used in New England because I’ve spoken to other people from other areas of the country and they’ve never heard of it. Nevertheless, when Mom had that tension in her voice, raised her voice and told us to stop dillydallying, we stopped dillydallying and got moving!

Maybe we scooched over a smidge and stopped dillydallying! That is, unless we were lollygagging!

A Glance At the Future - Part 2

In my last post, I shared some of the musings of my 12-year old self as I wrote about what I thought it would be like in the year 1999, some 26 years in the future. It was fun (at least for me) to read back through the project and see just how idealistic and optimistic I was. I believed that things would get better, that huge international problems like hunger and war would be taken care of.

Since there was so much good stuff in the paper, I split it into two parts. Here for your continued reading pleasure is Part 2 of the mind of a 12-year old (spelling and grammar errors again included) looking ahead twice as many years as he had actually been alive:

Since 1973 poverty has become almost extinct and most of the countries are modern or almost modern. 1973 non-modern countries became more modern with help from United States, Japan, Russia, China and Great Britain. It took these non-modern countries until almost 1988 to become almost modern.  

Wow, almost no more poverty in the world. I could have taken a bold step here and said poverty was a thing of the past, but even at that young age, I knew it highly unlikely. The amazing part is that it only took 15 years to accomplish the near extinction of poverty! Of course, those countries that we helped became only “almost modern”, not fully modern like us. It’s also kind of funny that I had China in the group that helped other countries become modern, since at that time China was pretty far behind. Anything that said Made in China was thought to be junk back then.

And every country just seems to treat each other with kindness that never would have been thought of in 1973.

This was probably brought on by the commercial where people from all over the world sang “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing”, but changed to be about buying the world a Coke. People treating each other with kindness would have been great, but sadly for all of us it never happened. There’s that idealism again.

People can sit back and rest while going somewhere with cars called Finches. Finches can fly, go on snow, water and regular streets. These cars go on programs. If you exceed the speed limit an alarm goes off. If you ignore it then you could take wrong turns.  

It is still a dream of mine to be able to ride in cars with no one driving as you get to your destination via computer. I think that was what I meant by programs. I don’t know how you could exceed the speed limit if the car was driven by computer, but it is true that you can take wrong turns if you’re driving too fast. I even included a drawing of the Finch, which said that it could go up to 500 mph while in flight. Again showing that I had no chance at a career in advertising or marketing, I wrote “place where program is put in”. Brilliant! And seriously, I doubt the average man would be bragging about his cool Finch.

Not many young men or older men wear musaches or beards. You’ll never see a person without at least some kind of shoes. In 1973 teenagers wore big giant bell bottom pants and army jackets. Now they wear shirts and pants that match. 

Men without any facial hair? As I mentioned in another post, I couldn’t wait until I could grow a beard (the picture there was from thisproject!). I guess I thought teenagers back then wore clothes that didn’t match, because in 1999 I noted they did. Maybe it was just me and some of my friends from big families that wore hand-me-downs that didn’t match. I wonder what my classmates thought of that last sentence.

Kids used to drink smoke and drink like it was nothing, now if you are caught smoking people almost run you out of town. Grown-ups don’t even smoke. 

I knew some kids that were already smoking back in 6^th grade. It was not a habit I wanted to pick up, but imagine getting run out of town for smoking cigarettes? I guess they wouldn’t have needed No Smoking sections in restaurants. Drinking was still OK, though.

In the winter you can still grow crops because of a special substance in the soil (which a farmer puts in) called Oragonnas. This stops the ground from freezing and killing the plants. Scientists found this makes the plants grow faster. So now there is a lot more vegetables and plants every year so people won’t be as hungry as they used to be. 

This kind of goes against just having to eat a little pill for food, but maybe all these vegetables and plants went into the pills. As an almost-teenager, I knew a little about being hungry. I would have welcomed not being as hungry as I used to be. And another pitiful product name with the substance that went into the soil.  

But the man has to write to the mayor and tell him of his problems. Then if he hasn’t done anything really bad to destroy someone else’s property then the mayor usually gives the money to him. 

This was for the farmer who had a bad year with his crops. He could get some help to hold him over, but the guy had to take some initiative to get the money from the mayor. It’s a great system; he could do something a little bad or possibly something bad that didn’t destroy someone’s property and still get some mayoral money. Just don’t cross the line into something really bad to destroy someone’s property.

Now that most of the 1973 problems have been solved the world and it’s people are a little better. And an almost impossible happening has become a dream come true, peace throughout the world. 

In my optimistic mind, the world would be better in 1999 than it was in 1973, with most of the problems solved. Maybe peace throughout the world was talked about more back then than it is now, and maybe that’s why I mentioned it multiple times. I don’t seem to hear much about it today.

There you have it, Part 2 of my glance into the (then) distant future. Poverty gone, people treating each other with kindness and buying one another a Coke; teens not smoking and wearing clothes that match; cars that could fly; peace throughout the world. My 1999 would have been a pretty incredible place to live. If only I could have come up with some cooler names for things!