Teaching my Son

The way I figure things, if I can just keep my son from drinking before he turns twenty-five, he’ll be alright. You try your best to impart wisdom, but you never know what’s getting through. Often my lectures are met with a dull blank stare. So, lately I’ve been working on being subtle. On a semi-regular basis I force him to watch My Big Redneck Wedding. It’s much easier to teach through example, and when the drunk groom proposes by pissing ‘will you marry me’ in the snow my son’s astonished face shows that recognition I so dearly need.

“What’s the matter?” I would say. “Doesn’t drinkin’ look fun?” That’s when he’d point out that the 400 lb. bride doesn’t have any teeth. Which leads to my explanation of beer goggles. “You’ll never be a real man until you drink so much you wake up next to someone’s fat grand-ma.” One day I suggested we stop by the Poodle Dog Lounge because The Simpsons used it as a blueprint for Moe’s. And yes, the patrons covered their eyes from the sunlight when we entered. We didn’t stay long. Becoming annoyed with my anti-alcohol preaching, one day my son actually asked me, “What do you regret other than drinking when you were my age?”

Other than drinking? Women. Definitely women. I was such an ass, but it’s a hard thing to inspire empathy in a teenager so I spilled the beans on Sherri O’Connor, my biggest regret. Sherri was perfect. A goddess. At 13 she had the sweetest next-door-neighbor face and the largest breasts in middle school.

By 14, when she arrived at high school as a freshman, they had grown even larger. They were enormous. Unobstructed by Newtonian gravity they mesmerized every boy in school, creating an army spastic dweebs in their wake. None of us could look her in the face. I don’t feel bad about that. At the time I had no free will.

By her junior year she was more breast than human. They stood out like mighty guns on a battleship, firing sex at every boy in eyeshot. Sherri must of been mortified. What could she do? For every boy in school she was little more than a sexual fantasy come to life. No fashion could disguise the Cesar’s Palace waitress going to our school.

And then, the unthinkable happened. (Insert overly dramatic music here. Da-Da-Daaaaaa!) First day of her senior year Sherri walked into home room with regular sized breasts.

By the end of the day I had organized most of the guys into wearing black arm bands. At the end of the second day almost every guy and even some girls were wearing them. That is what I regret. Sorry Sherri. (No, that’s not her real name, but if she ever reads this she’ll know.) Again, sorry.

I was sincere in my regret and my son understood how emotional scars were created. We had talked about that earlier. I’ve been proud to explain the myths of religion. Less enjoyed was my teaching him to be cynical about religion. I can only hope it will serve him well in the years to come. I tried to explain that most racism derives from religious intolerance, but I didn’t have a tangible example, until now. To be fair, I’m not even sure this is an authentic audio clip. The parts of the Jewish parents could be created by the radio station’s staff. Here’s the skinny:

A Jewish girl away from home at college prank calls her parents and tells them she started dating an Italian guy. The father threatens to kill the guy and the mothers comments are priceless.

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If this prank call is authentic, I am truly concerned for Jews everywhere. What kind of God punished the parents for the children’s sins? Does the mother really believe this nonsense? Why the sincere hate of Italians? Why would parents want to instill this kind of intolerance unto their children?

Latest favorite quote:
“I am the sterling silver ladle of justice, pouring it’s frothy white cream over the freshly picked strawberries of crime.” - - - The Tick.

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