2003 Year in Review

My Son Also Rises

My son spent his summer vacation pretty much in a vegetative state. On the first day of vacation, I rousted Eliot out of bed as usual, and he disappeared down the stairs into the basement where the family room is located.

Our family room has all the amenities essential to teenage survival. Against one wall is a television; adjacent to it is the family computer. On an opposite wall are a freezer and a refrigerator, with a microwave oven at the ready nearby. What more does a fourteen-year-old boy need?

Like many teenagers, Eliot thinks of himself as a night person, one capable of staying up to the wee hours, then sleeping in until the afternoon. When he first broached the subject – not directly with a discussion with his parents but by simply staying up past his usual bed time – I balked at the idea of my son being a slug-like creature that awakened at noon, slid down the stairs to the family room, then slithered up the stairs to his bedroom at midnight or so.

But why fight it, I thought. Better that we acquiesce somewhat and guide than to react impulsively to his encroachments on our divine rights. We agreed he could stay up later than normal, provided that on August 1 he would return to his usual pattern in preparation for the start of school. It fell to me to monitor his behavior.

What does a fourteen year old eat when he’s on his own? Eliot grazed on a variety of foods, mostly the sort that we usually consider snack or make-do emergency foods. By no means is this what we as parents wish him to eat as standard fare. We do prepare him wholesome home-cooked meals which he (out of deference to us?) picks at, but his forte is putting away large quantities of ‘stuff’ (his word): Hot Pockets, popcorn, peanut butter, chocolate in various sizes, shapes, and forms, bananas, cookies, sandwiches of various composition, chips, soft drinks, and so forth.

Television, the ‘vast wasteland’ of the 1960s, is now the ‘humungous void’ of the 21st century. My son spends considerable time in that void – probably too much time by any standard. But he is an eclectic viewer with a broad range of interests, from the sublime to the ridiculous. One evening he’s watching ‘rastlin,’ the next a documentary on Discovery channel. He surfs from Jeopardy to The Simpsons without a sense of the dichotomy between the two programs.

Not all his time was spent in idleness, however. He did rouse himself to read some substantial material. Like many young people (and adults) this summer, he indulged himself with the latest J. K. Rowling offering of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. My wife ordered the book from Amazon.com several months ago to be delivered by the postal service on the very day the book went on general sale to the public. It arrived as scheduled.

According to our postman, the anticipation was so great the postal service had coordinated delivery with the publisher and suppliers so that distribution of the book followed a carefully conceived and implemented plan. Thus, every child in America – indeed, the world – should have access to the Potter book on the same day. It was a marketing campaign par excellence. After months of waiting, Eliot finished the book in two days.

The adventures of Harry and his friends was only one of several books Eliot read and is reading this summer vacation. Now, he is engrossed in Stephen King’s The Stand, a novel his mother suggested to him. In this regard, I shouldn’t be too critical: He has ventured out into the light of day on occasion to read, lounging in a hammock in the shade of an elm, thus sparing himself a pallor worse than death.

Eliot has spent a lot of time at the computer this summer. Down in the subterranean depths of our house, he basked in the glow of the monitor, surfing from one wrestling site to another, tapping out instant messages to correspondents near and far, sending emails to family and friends, and visiting websites which probably should remain unknown and unnamed. How do parents really supervise their children’s internet practices? Filters? Faith? Fortune? No doubt, they must trust in all three.

Having the family computer and television in one room provided him with immediate access to the world of everything dear and holy to a teenage boy – wrestling on screen and online, MTV on screen and online, ESPN on screen and online, etc. And nothing can be so exhilarating as watching television and reporting the goings-on to an instant messaging partner. “I mean, like, man, you know what I mean?”

When my wife vacationed with her sister in Hawaii, I was pretty much left to my own in keeping an eye on our son. I saw little of him during the two weeks, for he spent the time either in the family room or his room, doing all those things I’m sure I never did when I was fourteen. To keep some aspect of domesticity while my wife was away, I prepared one meal a day, in the evening, to which I insisted he participate. He did without any qualms, but the conversation at the dinner table that passed for male bonding was short, sweet, and pointless.

But what can I say to someone – even my own son – fifty years my junior. He’s not the least interested in hearing about the good old days. To him, they were neither good nor old. But I did try, honest. I even took a leap and watched wrestling with him on two occasions and tried to be civil about it. “Boy, did you see that!” “Oh, man, that must have hurt!”

As of August 1, Eliot has been hustled to bed at his usual school time hour. We told him he needed to train his mind and body in preparation for the beginning of school. He’s adjusting pretty well, though I’m sure it’s hard on him. I have the sneaking suspicion, however, he’s getting up after my wife and I go to sleep, slipping down into the family dungeon, and enjoying those long, unhampered hours munching popcorn, watching television, and chatting with his online friends.

by William Driver, Guest Columnist
August 10, 2003