[756] in Humor
HUMOR: Rob Gets His Ear Pierced (1993)
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (abennett@MIT.EDU)
Tue Mar 7 23:38:05 1995
From: abennett@MIT.EDU
To: humor@MIT.EDU
Date: Tue, 07 Mar 1995 23:34:32 EST
Date: Tue, 7 Mar 95 12:59:54 PST
From: Connie_Kleinjans@Novell.COM (Connie Kleinjans)
WHEN DO YOU START FEELING OLD? WHEN YOUR SON GETS HIS EAR PIERCED
by DAVE BARRY
My son got his ear pierced. He's 12. For 12 years I worked hard to
prevent him from developing unnatural bodily holes, then he went out and
got one on purpose. At a shopping MALL. It turns out that minors can
have their earlobes assaulted with sharp implements by shopping-mall-
booth personnel who, for all we know, have received no more formal
medical training than is given to burrito folders at Taco Bell. And the
failed Clinton administration is doing NOTHING.
You're probably saying: ``Don't blame the government! As a parent,
YOU must take responsibility! You and your wife, Beth, should sit your
son down and give him a stern reprimand.''
Listen, that's a great idea, except for one teensy little problem,
which is that BETH IS THE PERSON WHO DROVE HIM TO THE PIERCING PLACE.
This is the same woman who, when Rob was 6, allowed him to get a
``punk'' style haircut that transformed him in just a few minutes from
Christopher Robin into Bart Simpson; the same woman who indulges his
taste for clothes that appear to have been dyed in radioactive Kool-Aid.
No, Beth is not on my side in the ongoing battle I have waged with my
son to keep him normal, defined as ``like me, but with less nose hair.''
Now you're probably saying: ``Who are YOU to be complaining? When you
were young, didn't YOU feel you had the right to do things that your
parents disapproved of?'' Perhaps you are referring to the time in ninth
grade when Phil Grant, Tom Parker and I decided that pipe-smoking was
cool, so we got hold of some pipes and stood around spewing smoke,
thinking we looked like urbane sophisticates, when in fact we looked
like The Junior Fred MacMurray Dork Patrol. I will admit that when my
parents found out about this (following a minor desk fire in my room)
and told me to stop, I went into a week-long door-slamming snit, as
though the right of ninth-graders to smoke pipes was explicitly stated
in the U.S. Constitution.
But we cannot compare these two situations. In the case of my pipe-
smoking, my parents were clearly overreacting, because the worst that
could have happened was that I would have burned the house down and got
cancer. Whereas I have a very good reason to object to Rob's earlobe
hole: It makes me feel old. Rob wears a little jeweled ear stud, and
it's constantly winking at me and saying: ``Hey there, Old Timer! YOU'D
never wear an ear stud! And neither would Grandpa Walton!''
I am also being rapidly aged by Rob's choice of radio stations. The
one he now prefers is operated by one of the most dangerous and
irresponsible forces on Earth, college students. I was concerned about
what they might be playing, so I tuned it in on my car radio. The first
song I heard didn't sound so bad, and I said to myself: ``Hey! Perhaps I
am still fairly `hip' after all!'' And then the deejay came on and said,
apologetically: ``I realize that song was MAINSTREAM.'' He said
``mainstream'' the way you would say ``composed by Phoenicians.'' Then
he played a song entitled -- I am not making this up -- ``Detachable
Penis.''
Yes, college students are in on the plot with my son to make me feel
old. Not long ago I was sitting on a beach near a group of male college
students who were talking about a bungee-jumping excursion they had
taken. They were bragging about the fact that they had leaped off the
tower in the only cool way, which is headfirst and backward. They spoke
with great contempt about a group of fathers -- that's the term they
used, ``fathers,'' making it sound as though it means ``people even
older than Phoenicians'' -- who had jumped off feet-first, which the
college students considered to be pathetic.
This made me feel EXTREMELY old, because I personally would not
bungee-jump off the ``Oxford English Dictionary.'' My son, on the other
hand, would unhesitatingly bungee-jump off the Concorde. And he's only
12. Who KNOWS how old he'll make me feel by the time he's 14. What if he
wants a NOSE RING? I won't allow it! I'm going to put my foot down! I'm
going to take charge!
I'm going to steal Beth's car keys.
(C) 1993 THE MIAMI HERALD
DISTRIBUTED BY TRIBUNE MEDIA SERVICES, INC.
