I was interviewed for an Australian tech blog last week. I wish I had worked in praise for Australia’s Tony Attwood in the interview somewhere. I’m sure I could have found a way to express my geeky fanboy love for the author somewhere between talking about Elvis impersonators and naked blogging. I doubt if Dr. Attwood would find any satisfaction in the knowledge that a mom on the other side of the world thinks he hung the moon.
Saturday night, a group of Knoxville bloggers gathered to discuss the future of blogging, local sports, television programs and politics. Without the word “anonymous” to hide behind, the conversations remained polite and intelligent. As the newcomers tried to place people with the blogs they author, business cards were exchanged. After talking to the person across from her for an hour, one blogger read his name on the card in her hand. She did a little Jerry Espenson hop in her chair and squeaked out the other blogger’s name. “You’re Glenn Reynolds!” It was both funny and endearing. Afterward, I wondered aloud if the object of her admiration gets any pleasure from his celebrity or if it has gone on for so long that he is over it. I suspect his response differs if it is a sincere admirer as opposed to one of the hateful people who transform what used to be a happy “Instalaunch” into a torch and pitchfork mob attack.
After taking Tommy to the Greek food eatathon, we dropped him off at Pellissippi to spend the day watching hot air balloons with his friend. Then, we went on an extremely rare dinner outing with our friends. Before we even had our food on the table, my phone rang. “The glow is at eight. You have to be here.” Tommy could have clarified that the glow was a low tech laser light show. It didn’t matter though, we were having dinner, not watching balloons. I ate a few bites and my phone beeped with a text message. “It’ll be cool.” A few more bites and another message. “The world’s largest hot air balloon is here.” After a dozen text messages, I gave up on getting to talk to the grownups and we rushed to find out what was going on with Tommy. As we walked toward the crowd, Doug wondered aloud if Tommy was overstimmed by the festival. I was instantly aware of the muggy heat, large crowds, loud music, flame noises, food smells and fuel vapors. I distractedly clicked pictures while searching for Tommy. We made our way around the lake and searched the balloon area. Doug spotted him first. I just stood there in disbelief. My child, who I worry about constantly, was intensely focused on the hot air balloon at the end of the rope he was holding. I walked closer, my mouth hanging open so wide I could have captured half a dozen gnats. Tommy saw me and barely nodded. He worked the rope with more concentration and physical strength than I have ever seen from him. Not only did he work the balloon crew all day, he stayed there for several hours afterward to help with the takedown and packing. Except for the part where I was recruited to hoist the flattened and folded balloon into its’ storage cart, I watched Tommy instead of the balloons. I watched a completely different person than the boy who I left at college last month. I don’t know if Tommy will pass his classes. He went such a long time without any education during his childhood that he has serious gaps in his abilities. He can tell you about history, but he can’t write down what he knows. Tommy is going to be okay though. He may live a nomadic life following hot air balloons around the world or he might work on a horse ranch. I am no longer clearing the path for him. Tommy is paving his own road.
If you want to go to the mall after school, please put one foot in front of the other and get yourself there instead of waiting until I drive all the way over to the school and asking for a ride to the mall.
I am creating my own weapons of mass distraction and cleaning up my iPod before we leave for DC. I don’t think anyone in the car wants to listen to The Partridge Family, theme songs to animated movies or some of the politically incorrect but anatomically accurate Monty Python tunes. Adam Sandler and Steve Martin are getting filed away, but this podcast can stay. Next on my to-do list is wardrobe worrying. Flip flops in October - yay or nay?
I love late night television. Many days it is the only time I get to relax and laugh. Still, I honestly don’t like seeing either of the would-be presidents interviewed on shows for comedic effect. The high school quarterback didn’t get where he is by hanging out with the smokers behind the gym. Everybody loves the antics of the class clown, but the honor roll students don’t participate in his pranks. The comedic sidekick is the Vice President. Send the VP candidates to the talk shows. They were BOTH chosen for their ability to entertain weren’t they?
After a month away at school, Tommy is finally coming home for the weekend. Not to see us, but to visit Greekfest. He doesn’t care about the church service, the dancing, the music, the outfits or the people. He only wants to eat the delicious food. I like everything about Greekfest, but there’s no denying that the food is the best part of the weekend. They should just call it “Eat till you sleep fest.” The recipes are happily shared. I just can’t replicate them. It’s a shame to have to eat a year’s worth of Greek pastry in one day, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.
I won’t argue that breaking into someone’s e-mail isn’t wrong. I do think that anyone who saw War Games in the theater is a hypocrite if they don’t cut the teen who (allegedly) did this some slack. Matthew Broderick’s character was cool and every kid with a computer wanted to see if they could do any of the things that they saw in that movie. At the end of the movie, he didn’t get arrested. He was a hero. Hackers may have been conceded that computer hacks aren’t all harmless, but it still made it look like fun to try. The teens in hackers got arrested and I’m sure they were in trouble even after they saved the oceans. They just weren’t Mathew Broderick. Ferris Bueller was a timeless hero. “The sportos, the motorheads, geeks, sluts, bloods, waistoids, dweebies, dickheads - they all adore him. They think he’s a righteous dude.” Ferris didn’t just hack the school computers. He broke laws all over the city of Chicago. If anyone else did the things that Ferris did, they AND their parents would be arrested and the blogosphere (yes, I used that word) would crucify them. Matthew Broderick gets away with it. The Matthew Broderick defense should be in legal books as a viable defense for teenage foolishness.
