#273 In which our hero writes his yearly letter to his dead father.

Dear Dad,

Yesterday was Father’s Day. The Scientist had to work, and I had a bunch of stuff to do around the house, so it wasn’t exactly the most festive Father’s Day ever… but I did spend a bunch of time hanging out with the girls.

I am sometimes amazed at how much of me I see in them. Lily looks like me, so there’s no denying parentage there. But more so, she acts like me. She’s timid around strangers, until she warms up to them. She’s sometimes nervous to try new things, and frets about how things will happen, who will be there, if anyone will talk to her, and so on. She’s quick to feel wronged, and have her feelings hurt. She’s emotional and sensitive.

All like me.

Macey acts like me, too, but in a completely different way. She’s pig-headed and quick to anger. She’s more likely to lash out then cry when wronged. She likes to get her own way, and woe be to the person in her way.

This is kinda like me, too. Maybe more like her mother, though.

So it had me thinking of how I’m like you. I know there’s a physical resemblance, because people have remarked on it. I am balding now, just like you did. But more than looks, I think I act like you.

I remember how much you hated unexpected delays and hassles. And how quick you were to get angry about them. I’m like that, too; even though I’ve made a concerted effort to be more mellow, to try to just go with the flow and not let it ruin the day. I’ve been somewhat successful in that endeavor.

But on a more positive note, I have your sense of humor. I’ve always been the “funny friend,” which is a blessing and a curse, I suppose. But I laugh a lot, and the fact that my wife can make me laugh—HARD—is proof positive that I’ve married the right woman.

Mom sometimes slips and calls me “Ted,” which means she sees you in me as well. You’ve shaped me in ways that I can’t even imagine. And if I ever have cause to doubt that, I need only look at my watch.

I wear my watch with the strap on the top of my wrist, and the numerals facing down. I’ve never really given it much thought as to why, this is just how I wear my watch. To me it’s just like the fact that I wash my left armpit in the shower before my right… it’s not a conscious decision I’ve made, it’s just something I do, and have always done.

However… this isn’t really the case. I recently came across a newspaper clipping from when I had won some sort of drawing contest when I was 10. In it, there’s a photo of me holding the winning drawing, and you can clearly see my watch. It’s an oversized black plastic deal with, God help me, a built-in calculator. But I’m wearing it with the face on the top of my wrist, like almost everyone does.

You always wore you watch “upside down,” like I do now. I remember asking you about it once, and you told me that you did that because in college you didn’t want to be constantly reminded of the time, so you flipped your watch around so you couldn’t see it as easily.

I’ve also had people tell me that this is a workman’s way of wearing a watch; presumably so the breakable bits were further away from harm for those who work with their hands all day. I guess you could say that I work with my hands, if typing counts. Actually, my watch face is more scratched up from clinking on the wrist rest then it would be if I wore my watch the “normal” way.

I look at 10-year-old me and see that I did make a decision about my watch at some point. And that decision was to wear my watch like my dad did. Just one more way that I’m like you.

And I wonder what little things the girls will pick up from me. The way they brush their teeth? Tie their shoes? Ride a bike? I hope I can continue to be a mostly good example to them. Like you were for me. I miss you, dad.

Your son,

Craig.

***

#272 In which our hero receives a message from the past.

I’ve previously mentioned this cool website, Futureme.org, in which you can send messages to yourself in the “future,” that is, these messages are stored somewhere and not delivered until the future date you set.

I had sent future-me a message at one point, but I forgot how long I set it to wait. Every once in a while this website would bubble up to the surface of my mind and I’d wonder if that message would ever come. But it had been so long I assumed the service just didn’t work.

But I got my past message yesterday!

I had completely forgotten what I had written, and it was really funny to (re)read. Message follows with commentary.

Hello Future Craig!

It is June 10, 2004 as I write this. The kinda cool website futureme.org says it will send this to you any time in the future... I'm going to set it for five years. I wonder what'll be different by then.

Right now, Lily is only seven months old. Just in the past week has she started to really crawl, she can get around now! By the time you read this she should be walking and talking (something she can't do at all now), and will be even more a real little person. I hope to God she finally grew some hair.

Wow, it’s amazing how little I knew about kids then. I though she’d be walking and talking at age 5? Holy crap, this kid can run like a demon. And talk? She spins these amazingly elaborate tales that never fail to surprise and delight me. She’s so much more of a real person at age 5 that I could ever of imagined.

And it’s hard to remember that it took Lily so long to grow hair. Now she has thick, luxurious red hair halfway down her back.

You're working at ADPRO right now... it's not terrible.

Well, it certainly got terrible. This would have been my first year there, and it was, as reported, okay. Not terrible, not wonderful. That would come later. As an aside, I’m going to censor some of the names that follow, but I don’t have to obscure the agency name since it went out of business less than a year after firing me. No real surprise there… it was struggling financing well before I started working there.

Your boss is XXXX XXXXXXX, who isn't a horrible boss, but he's clearly out to cover his own ass first, and screw everyone else. At the beginning of the month you were turned down for a raise, even though XXXX (says he) wanted to give you one. You're still more than a little bitter about that.

This was the first sign that ADPRO was not a healthy place to work. My boss outright lied about compensation, making it sound like it was likely that I would get a raise at 6 months, 12 months, 18 months… while the truth was that no one in the agency had received a bump in compensation in YEARS. So yeah, I was bitter… and still am. This is alleviated somewhat by the information I received a while back that my former boss is now working for an extremely small shop (like 5 people) and the two principals work him into the ground and don’t appreciate his work. This may or may not be true, but I choose to believe that he’s getting a taste of his own medicine now.

You work with XXXX XXXXXXX and XXXXX XXXXXXXX, graphic designers.

The first of which was fired four months before me, the second of which quit several months after me. I’m not in touch with either any more.

AE XXXX XXXXX is one of the bigger assholes you've ever had to work with.

Man, that was the truth. In a weird twist of fate, this guy came in to interview at my current agency. I really wanted to run to the general manager and torpedo any chance he had to actually getting hired… but I didn’t. I guess I believe that what comes around goes around, and I’m not willing to roll those dice. Man that guy was a dick. He wasn’t hired here anyway.

You and [The Scientist] and just starting to pack up the house in preparation to moving. Actually, [The Scientist] has started, and you're dragging your feet because you fucking hate moving. I hope you guys found a nice house... bigger, nicer room for Lily, bigger kitchen, PLEASE.

This must have been when we were just moving stuff into a storage area to de-clutter it and make it feel bigger. We ended up selling our house much quicker than expected, and had to scramble a bit to find a new one. Which we did in short order. But not without first having to deal with a bunch of bullshit which is chronicled here.

And a bedroom for Lily's new brother or sister? S/he should be born by now, huh? Wonder how that went. Another C-section for [The Scientist]? I hope it was less stressful for you guys this time.

Let me do the math. This was sent June 10, 2004. Macey was born June 9, 2005. So, The Scientist wasn’t even pregnant yet, by a couple of months. I don’t really remember this, but The Scientist and I must have planned when we were going to try for #2 pretty carefully.

[The Scientist] just started the job at XXXXXXXX. Knowing her, she'll be at this job for 10 years. I hope she still likes it... after hating her job for so long, she deserves one that she likes at least a little.

She still likes it. So, yah!

You're still driving the Neon. I really hope by the time you read this that you have a new car.

Ah, my old red Neon. How I loved that car. I really wanted to get another manual, but The Scientist insisted that I get an automatic. Which has worked out for the best, I suppose. But I miss that zippy little 5-speed.

You love your wife very much. Looks like[REDACTED].

This section detailed some personal stuff that my wife and I had to work through which you--nameless, faceless Internet--need not know about. Suffice it to say that we did indeed work it out.

Man, she's one hot piece of ass.

That sentiment is no less true now than it was five years ago.

Hope all is well with you and yours,

craig, circa 2004.

The Scientist thinks I should write another one. If I set if for another five years, that would make Lily 10 and Macey 9. I can’t even imagine what those kids will be like then. And The Scientist and I will have been married 13 years.

Here’s hoping that her ass remains as hot as it is now.

***

#271 In which our hero discusses the manner in which the man decides if his oldest child is fit for school or not.

Several weeks ago my 5-year-old, Lily, was evaluated for acceptance into Kindergarten. We were briefed on this evaluation at the mandatory parents' meeting (along with dress code, religious requirements--it's a Catholic school, after all--etc.). We were to drop off our kids at the scheduled time, then leave. They would be tested in 10 areas.

A brief aside about language.

At the meeting, the principal told us several times not to refer to this evaluation as a "test" because he didn't want our children to be apprehensive about it. He said to just tell our kids that they would be playing some "games." Again, he didn't want a bunch of 5-year-olds freaking out about a "test." Now, what kind of anal, too-tightly-wound child is experiencing test anxiety at five? I know my kid has never been tested for anything so far, and even if she had, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't care if she passed or not.

It just strikes me as a self-fulfilling prophesy when you start talking like this. "Don't call it a test, they're freak out if they think they're being 'tested'!" Instead of avoiding "scary" words like test, why not just teach your kid to deal? "Look, Jimmy, it's a test, and you might do well on it or not. But even if you blow it, it's not a huge deal. You'll face LOTS of tests in your life."

Anyway.

The kids would be evaluated in 10 areas, the results being grouped into three categories: Strength, Average and Need. If you kid shows a "need" in four or more areas, you're supposed to sit down with the kindergarten teachers and principal and devise a plan. I kinda think this means that if your kid is struggling in four or more areas, you might not be invited to attend this particular school.

So, Lily has her test and it's no big deal. She says she had fun for the most part, but some of the games were boring.

Couple of weeks later, we get the official letter from the school. It doesn't say she "passed" because, presumably, that would put undo pressure on the administrators or some such shit. But it is a "welcome to" letter, so my kid is in!

Here are the categories Lily was tested in, and the results (I've included some of the definitions that were included with the letter because, frankly, if I hadn't read some of them I wouldn't know what my kid was tested for):

Visual Motor Integration ("the ability to coordinate vision with motor movements")
Result = STRENGTH!

Visual discrimination ("ability to recognize differences and similarities among things that we see")
Result = STRENGTH!

Auditory Memory ("refers to how well one listen and is then able to repeat what he has heard")
Yeah, that should be "how well one listenS" and also, nice sexism, school board!
Result = Average

Draw-A-Person ("used to help assess visual-motor ability along with visual-memory")
Result = STRENGTH!

Test of Auditory Analysis Skills ("refers to hearing sounds and auditoraly discriminating individual sounds within words")
I think when I was a kid this was called "listening."
Result = STRENGTH!

Peabody Picture Vocabulary ("refers to one's understanding of words that are heard")
Why does this one get a brand name? Who's this Peabody, anyway?
Result = STRENGTH!

Articulation ("ability to express thoughts and ideas.")
Result = Average
"Average"? Holy crap... anyone who spends more than a couple minutes with my daughter knows she has NO trouble expressing her thoughts. In fact, after a while, you might wish she'd STOP expressing her crazy, creative, endless thoughts.

Fine Motor ("ability to plan and perform movement using small muscles of the hands and/or fingers)
Result = Average
Again, maybe I'm just the doting father, but you wouldn't believe the detailed little clay creations this kid has made.

Basic Concepts ("major ideas, generalized from particular instances or experiences")
Result = Average
I'm not even sure what this category is telling me. Additional examples make it seem to relate to colors, letters, numbers, shapes and the like. And if that's the case, my kid has it down. She knows all of her colors, shapes, numbers and the like.

And that's the entire test. I'm clearly biased, but I suspect that Lily just got bored of all the questions and started to slack off. I've seen this before.

But, we'll see how she does in Kindergarten. I'm sure she'll do great. As long as no-one mentions the word "test."

***

#270 In which our hero invites Oprah Winfrey to go fuck herself.

On Google! News this morning I saw this headline: “Oprah apologizes for slamming author James Frey.”

If you don’t remember, James Frey is the guy who wrote “A Million Little Pieces” which was purportedly his wholly true autobiography; but later it came out that the author had altered some events, and completely made up some others.

There was a bit of hoopla when this information came out. And honestly, I understand none of it. I mean, I never read the book, but apparently it was good enough that people got something out of it, and well-written enough to shoot up to the top of the best seller charts (and, of course, Oprah had a lot to do with that).

But, apparently, the people who read it, and were moved by it, suddenly found all of their enjoyment negated by the fact that it was, in part, fabricated. Stories came out that they felt “betrayed” and “mislead” and other bullshit that seemed completely overblown for a book. I mean, these people weren’t duped out of the last penny of their retirement money… they spent $20 on a book which—up until the instant they learned about the made-up parts—they really enjoyed reading. Nevertheless, many of these disgruntled readers demanded their money back and—unbelievably—got it!

Now, I’ve read my share of shitty books. Some of these books were by respected authors, people who had written other books that I enjoyed. But never once did it cross my mind to demand my money back from the retailer because the “reading experience” didn’t live up to my expectations.

So I had no respect or sympathy for these dillrods who wanted some sort of retribution for reading this book. And Oprah Winfrey was at the front of the fucking bus when it came to seeking revenge.

She named “A Million Little Pieces” to her book club, which naturally catapulted it to mega-best seller status. And, to a degree, I get why she was so pissed. She talked him up, fawned over him, related how inspirational and moving the book was… and then she found out that some of BS she was spouting was based on, well, BS.

It’s her reputation on the line, and so she should protect it. But Jesus, she raked this guy over the coals. She had him on her show so she could spout venom at him and humiliate him on a national stage. For an HOUR. She was relentless in tearing him down. I felt bad for the guy; he took his lumps like a bad puppy and did little to defend himself.

Shortly after the televised beat-down, Stephen King wrote an editorial in Entertainment Weekly that I found very interesting. You can read it in its entirely here, but the part that jumped out to me was this:

“The amazing thing is that anyone—including Oprah—believed any of Frey's stories once they realized he was trying to manage good sobriety without much help, because this is a trick very few druggies and alcoholics can manage … Substance abusers lie about everything, and usually do an awesome job of it.”

King, as a recovering addict and alcoholic himself, writes with an insight that Oprah could never have. So, should Oprah have suspected ahead of time that Frey’s book just might be embellished a bit? I dunno… most non-cynical people tend to assume the best, I guess.

But I do think that when you start up the massive book-selling machine that is the Oprah Winfrey Book Club, and you pluck books out of the rank and file of mere mortals and invite them into the halcyon company of the gods (especially those books written by admitted drug addicts and liars) that you just might get burned every once in a while.

But Oprah was pissed and wasn’t shy about letting people know about it. And his guy suffered considerable fall-out. Lost his publishing deal. Had to give back millions of dollars. Was branded a fake and liar. And, let us not forget, that the part about him being a recovering addict was absolutely true… having your world crumble around you like that cannot be good for your sobriety.

And honestly, I’m willing to give Oprah her you-fuck-with-me-I’ll-fuck-with-you moment. But now, she’s going public with an apology SIX years after the fact? That reeks of hypocrisy and disingenuousness.

Let’s break it down for a moment: Oprah was angry because she took James Frey at face value… that he had a hard battle with drugs and alcohol and, through amazing force of will, emerged on the other side better and healthier. She really believed that he could stand as a shining example of what people can achieve if they put their mind to it. But then it turned out that it wasn’t (all) true.

Now, let’s go back to 1988, when Oprah revealed her amazing weight loss on her show. I don’t watch The Oprah Winfrey Show, but this event was all over the place, you could hardly miss it (wheelbarrow full of fat and all). Oprah had a long and difficult battle with her weight and, through amazing force of will, emerged on the other side better and healthier. Not only had she lost the weight, she was now committed to a healthier lifestyle that would keep the weight off. She stood as a shining example of what people can achieve if they only put their mind to it.

Only, she gained the weight back, didn’t she?

Where are the people demanding their money back for show tickets? Where are the outraged women who thought, just like Oprah, that they could lose the weight, only to find out that their example had stumbled? Where the hell is Oprah’s public lambasting for saying one thing, then doing another?

As far as Frey goes, he’s taking the high ground. He’s quoted as saying, “It was a nice surprise to hear from her, and I really appreciated the call and the sentiment.” What he didn’t say was what he was probably thinking: “But, y’know, I’m still a little pissed about her aggressively dismantling my career and life six years ago.”

I’m waiting for her to do an hour long special in which instead of the gentle platitudes about how she “let down her fans” with her yo-yoing weight loss and gain, she really tears into herself and says how she has lied and mislead everyone about her commitment to a healthy lifestyle.

THAT is an Oprah Winfrey show I’d tune in for.

***