I’m a verb parent. Most of us born after 1965 are. We’re not just “parents,” we “parent.” Noun parents remember their years of parenting with nostalgia; they did nothing wrong. Verb parents remember their last hour of parenting and think they did everything wrong. Born of noun parents, who knew nothing of my grades, feelings, dreams, tortures, or bottom-feeder role in the social hierarchy, I did what everyone was doing at the time. I procreated. Keep Reading
A new Op-Ed in The New York Times by Bret Stephens is worth reading. With all the controversy surrounding Facebook’s practices and motives, Stephens digs down to the fundamental reason behind Facebook’s profound effects on the demoralization of our culture.
Check out this article at the blog, Father-hood.co.uk, and its shout-out to We the Average Parents, who know our children are less-than-perfect, but we love them anyway.
You remember those days. When we were young, and our parents’ idea of “parenting” was to shove us out the door in the morning and make sure we didn’t return until dark. When we were deathly ill, and they told us we’d feel better after we ate something and went to school. Or when we finally told them about our troubles with the school bully, and their response was a fake punch in the shoulder and a “Their loss, buddy. Keep your chin up.” Keep Reading
David Denby, in his nonfiction work, Great Books: My Adventures with Homer, Rousseau, Woolf, and Other Indestructible Writers of the Western World*, writes about a professor of philosophy from Columbia University who is smoking in a subway terminal. A police officer approaches and demands he put out his cigarette. Keep Reading