May 192010
 

Actually, to be honest, I kind of like the 70s — that’s when I was born, the music was epic and not quite as self-consciously serious as the stuff the decade before, and I just love mid-70s design.

But, the decade’s not perfect. And two recent op-eds in the New York Times offer interesting perspectives on how ripples from the late 60s and early 1970s are still wrecking things today.

First — Vietnam protesters? Thought you had morality on your side? Well Larry Pressler says you were a bunch of rich brats getting off on a technicality — a lesson you’ve carried over into business and politics today:

Too many in my generation did a deeply insidious thing. And they got away with it. Big time. Poorer people went to war. The men who didn’t were able to get their head start to power.

Now that flawed thinking has been carried forward. Many of these men who evaded service but claimed idealism lead our elite institutions. The concept of using legal technicalities to evade responsibility has been carried over to playing with derivatives, or to short-changing shareholders. Once my generation got in the habit of saying one thing and believing another, it couldn’t stop.

Now, Pressler writes, those who opposed one war are in charge of another — sending other peoples’ children into harm’s way to assuage their guilt for ducking responsibility.

Slightly too young to protest the draft? You’re no better. David Brooks sees a link between the sky-high crimes rates of the 60s and 1970s and today’s helicopter over-parents:

if you grew up in or near an American city in the 1970s, you grew up with crime (and divorce), and this disorder was bound to leave a permanent mark. It was bound to shape the people, now in their 40s and early-50s, reaching the pinnacles of power.

It has clearly influenced parenting. The people who grew up afraid to go in parks at night now supervise their own children with fanatical attention, even though crime rates have plummeted. It’s as if they’re responding to the sense of menace they felt while young, not the actual conditions of today.

He sees a few more links too — some good, I’ll admit — but his descriptions of New York crimes back then are terrifying: “A serial killer nicknamed Charlie Chop-Off menaced the Upper West Side, emasculating little boys and then killing them, and such was the general disorder that his crimes were barely mentioned in the city’s newspapers.”

I’m very curious to see what will happen in 30 or so years, when the kids of the over-scheduled, over-parented generation grow up and take charge.

Nov 222009
 

Parenting isn’t easy. I’ll just put that out there and leave it at that. This post isn’t going to be about arguing with emotionally retarded teenagers or dealing with overtired 9 year olds who are all hopped up on sugar. Nor is it about those moments where they make you proud with their achievements or watching them grow into their own people or about the miracle of life or unconditional love or any of that touchy-feely crap I don’t have the stomach for.

This post is about those moments where something small happens and you go “Wow. I made that.”

Case in point: my youngest, 9 years old, was kicking around the house this morning singing a snippet of a song I’d never heard before. As he usually sings 80′s pop and rock (really), I thought maybe it was a song for a school event or something. Thus, as a good father, I ignored it until he asked if he could go on YouTube. Sure, I said, because that’s how I roll.

A few minutes later he calls me in and says, “Look. I found that song.”

“What song?”

“Dad. The one I was singing.”

And be damned if he doesn’t like good music. Maybe I’m behind the times on hearing this song, but that’s not the point. The song could be 20 years old and I’d still be impressed — he’s found a song he likes and I like, as well. Maybe this is about him becoming his own person after all.

Like I said, a little thing. But I said “wow.”

The song, by the way, is Fireflies by Owl City: