I tried. I really did. I don't feel badly about it not working out, either. Sometimes the effort makes the statement, not the result.
My son had an activity at school this evening (of course, this was preceded by a 2pm school dismissal, a screening of "Superbad" at the dollar theater, lunch at Carl's Jr., and a round of Guitar Hero III at a local Best Buy). His event was from 6pm to 8pm, and we were on-again off-again about whether I was to pick him up at 8, or wait for his call. Being the parent that I am, and wanting to be there for my kid, I left the house about 8:05, drove to the school, and sat in the parking lot until the call came in. I brought my book, and sat under one of the lights. No rush.
I parked about a hundred yards from the school's theater (I hate parents who hover, and didn't want to be one of "those" parents)--far enough not to be immediately seen, close enough to see. From my vantage point I could see the dark, empty quad; I could see kids coming from the music room as practice ended; and I could see a small huddle of teens outside the theater, just hanging out and enjoying the company of friends. There was a time my son didn't have that many friends; now he has plenty, and that includes those in the Improv Troupe at the school. I looked up from my book long enough to see them all howl with laughter at some joke, having a good time being young. I smiled just a bit . . . my son was growing up, but he seemed to be enjoying it.
Then the phone rang. "Where are you?" he asked. He asked a little expectantly, too, like I was late or something.
"Where are you?" I countered. Don't take that tone with me, young man.
"I'm here, and you're not. I'm upstairs." He had grabbed a ride with one of his friends. What he didn't say--and seemed to want to--was that he was trying to impress me by taking care of his own needs, all the while not knowing that I was trying to impress him by meeting those same needs.
Like I said, I tried. So did he. Neither one of us succeeded, . . . and yet, perhaps we both did.
Observations, rants, and plausible
deniability from a person who refuses
to be a prisoner of his own world.
deniability from a person who refuses
to be a prisoner of his own world.
The Village
I AM WRITING!
My Screenplay -- Draft Three
I'm currently reading:
On my Kindle 2
I'm listening to:
iTunes Radio
I'm driving:
The Honda FCX Clarity
Wednesday, December 05, 2007, posted by Q6 at 8:51 PM
