Pick a Direction. Now Go!

Doug likes to tell the story of his high school graduation gift from his parents: a suitcase. What better message to send to an 18-year-old than "time for you to leave now"? I don't remember my gift, but I distinctly remember crying all the way to Iowa City as my mother smiled encouragingly, reminding me that I would soon be a Hawkeye and my homesickness would fade in no time.

Our parents knew what they were doing. Doug eventually left the homestead, and my homesickness evaporated within days.

Alex designed her dress. Age 12.

We now seem to be at that point on the parenting spectrum. Alex the Eldest graduated from college last May and moved to Denver to make a splash in the world of journalism. She had crushed it in college, after all. Fast forward eight months. Writing jobs are drying up. The food industry pays well. Living is expensive. Daughter is in a funk. Adulting sucks! And just when we were ready to suggest she consider going back to school, Alex declares herself an entrepreneur! With her creativity and tactile proclivities, she's starting a fashion design business for the niche market of drag queens. Now she wonders about taking some business classes. At one time she would've scoffed at that ludicrous idea.

On the other hand, Cole the Youngest is in his last semester of high school, and he's suddenly panicking about choosing the right career path. (It was so much easier when he knew he was going to be Spiderman or a Major League Soccer player!) Does he really want to pursue Exercise Science? What about art? Art design maybe? Or maybe he should reconsider history? What career will ensure him of a penthouse like Justin Timberlake in Friends with Benefits? And a girlfriend like Mila Kunis?

A strong Spidey sense. Age 4.

Important life questions. For sure. So, what's a parent to do?

Doug takes the practical approach: Make sure you find a job that pays.

My approach is a bit less practical: Make sure you find a career that makes you happy.

We're both correct, of course. But there's another element that can be a difficult concept to grasp: make sure you're contributing. It sounds almost formulaic, but it doesn't mean much unless it's fused with a bit of passion and sincere empathy. This doesn't mean you need to solve world poverty, although, that would be nice. It also doesn't mean you need to pull down six figures, although, that would be nice as well. It simply means you made a positive difference in someone's life.

I just finished reading a great book called Britt-Marie Was Here by Fredrik Backman. He's an amazing author with a gift for depicting the most ordinary, yet compelling characters. There's a very profound point in the story when Britt-Marie begins to understand her purpose. The chapter begins with this:

"At a certain age almost all the questions a person asks him or herself are really just about one thing: how should you live your life?"

Britt-Marie is 63-years-old, by the way. As parents, we try to instruct our kids every step of the way when we, ourselves, are also trying to figure it all out. We've made mistakes, and we learned. We made more mistakes, and we learned. We'll make more mistakes, and I hope we will learn. But all throughout, we found many moments of happiness – especially when we realized we were making a difference.

So, kids... pick a direction and go. We'll try not hover. And when you fall down, we'll know you're on your way to great things.

Do You Speak Cinema?

When Alex was just a fuzz past two-years-old, I had to give her a talk about something she shouldn't have done. It was a gentle scold – as mine have always been (and not terribly effective, I might add). But she was only a toddler, and at that age, who knew if she really got what I was trying to say. By the end of my lecture, I asked her if she understood. She stood tall in her crib and replied, "Because being brave doesn't mean you go looking for trouble, right?"

Straight from The Lion King.

In terms of raising kids, that scene is what you might call foreshadowing. Doug and I might've failed in many respects of childrearing, but we did one thing right. We bestowed upon them a fairly deep knowledge of cinema. And now? They are fluent in movie-speak. There's rarely a family outing without a hefty dose of lines from some of the classics.

Here's me trying to get someone to go for a walk:

"Who's with me? Ahhhhhhhh!"  (John Belushi, Animal House, motivating the Deltas to avenge their expulsion from Faber. Then running out the door without anyone following him. Ahem.)

Or, here's Doug responding to Alex who is describing an outfit someone was wearing:

"I remember her wearing black. Everyone was wearing black. I thought it was a fashion thing." (Bill Murray in Scrooged, responding to the ghost of Christmas Present, when she reminded him that his secretary's husband had died.)

Or, here's the family giving compliments to an unknown chef at a restaurant:

"Ugly as sin. But a sweet girl. Helluva a good cook." (Randy Quaid in Christmas Vacation, talking about the Yak Woman, one of his son's circus associates.)

Or, here's Cole facetiming his buddy for a total of ten seconds without a greeting or a good-bye, only needing to know the start of game time:

"When you get your answer, hang up."  (Brad Pitt in Moneyball, when contacting various agents in making trade deals.)

Or, here's Doug wafting the blankets in my face after passing gas and I'm telling him to stop:

"Well, if you don't want me to..." (Fever Pitch. The response to Jimmy Fallon after asking his buddy "Why you shaving my balls, Doc?")

Or, here's any of us saying goodnight, with a deep, unrelenting hug:

"I hate good-byes!" (Jim Carrey, in Dumb and Dumber, as Mary Swanson's driver, whom he just met.)

Or, here's Cole taunting his father into a fight:

"Don't try it Anakin! I have the high ground." (Obi Wan Kenobi, in his fateful light saber fight with the Jedi who becomes Darth Vader. But you all knew that.)

Or, here's he-who-must-not-be-named (hint: Cole or Doug) belching or farting in a way that should clear the room while the rest of us are are screaming how terrible it is:

"Terrible, yes. But great." (Ollivander the Wandmaker in Harry Potter, speaking of the evil Voldemort.)

There are hundreds, maybe even thousands, of more quotes we use on fairly frequent basis. But I think "that'll do, donkey, that'll do."

I remember as a child that there was a common notion that TV and movies were going to be the ruin of us. (Thankfully, this was not a sentiment my parents shared.) Well, as a solid Gen X'er, I can say with a fair amount of confidence that TV and movies didn't ruin us. It kind of made us, really. Storytelling has been around since the beginning of time. And no matter what form it takes (books, movies, even video games), it will always connect us. As we begin this new year with a load of new movies to take in, may the force be with you.

What quotes have become part of your family's language? I'd love to hear them!

Star Wars. Nothing but Star Wars...