Modern Pop Culture 101

One of the amusing and rewarding things about my kids getting older is that Husband and I can start to introduce them to things that we love, be it music, or movies, or books. This has some obvious benefits--goodbye and good riddance, Raffi; hello Jimmy Buffett and Bon Jovi and B.O.B. And it has also been thoroughly enjoyable to sit down and watch beloved films like The Princess Bride and The Rookie and even Star Wars (I refer to the classic 70s trio, of course) with the boys. Derek has recently developed a liking for reading the comics, which surprising requires a higher degree of intellectual development than you'd think, in order to fully understand some of the multi-level puns and double-meanings. He relates to family funnies like Baby Blues (because he recognizes the sibling harassment, no doubt) and especially strips with Middle or High School kids (Derek cracks up when Big Nate exasperates his father and teachers, but the lightsaber battles and D&D-type obsessions of the Foxtrot gang cause him to laugh out loud and snarf his breakfast on a regular basis on Sunday mornings...it's hilarious, but you do NOT want to be sitting across from him, innocently trying to drink your coffee). But just recently, realizing that Derek's humor and comprehension has reached a sophisticated-enough realm to handle it, we presented him with the most treasured of collections: Calvin and Hobbes. Oh, the giggling that has ensued...I can be anywhere in the house--brushing my teeth, folding laundry, whatever--and a grinning Derek will purposely seek me out, in order to read a page aloud to me. I'm so glad that he derives such pleasure from it, but I'd really like to go to the bathroom in peace!

Then there have been some unexpected consequences to the crash course in Intro to Modern Media. For instance, one night Alice in Wonderland was showing on cable (you know, the creepy, disturbing movie with Johnny Depp). I personally cannot even watch five minutes of it without imagining the nightmares I'll be experiencing later that night, but the 3 males sat for a while...perhaps in morbid fascination. Even more unsettling was what occurred the next day, when Derek could be observed streaking about the house, shirtless, pants around his ankles, shrieking, "Help, he's going to stab my Jabber-winky!" (Not that it answers ANY of the myriad questions arising from this...display...but a wooden-stick-wielding Riley was hotly in pursuit. Due to the shocking visual with which I was confronted, the reasons--if any-- for this pandemonium remained unclear). Now that's what I call "artistic exposure" taken waaayy too far! (Sorry! The event clearly scarred me!)

And finally, we arrive at...Middle Earth. That's right, moving up from The Chronicles of Narnia and Harry Potter, Derek was deemed ready to tackle Tolkien for his Summer Reading Assignment before 6th grade. Into the fantasy world of Aragorn and Gandalf and Elves and Dwarves and Hobbits he courageously leaped. (And although it took him the better part of two months to plow through the complex tale, he did finish it!) Husband even treated both boys to a cinematic screening of The Fellowship of the Ring, which they just adored. (Incidentally, now they know why we began calling them Hobbits a few years ago, when they adopted the practice of eating breakfast...2nd breakfast...elevenses...lunch..."tea" (snack)...and dinner like the fictional creatures do!) Although I wondered if they would be able to handle some of the intense beasts and violent conflict in the movie, they seemed to take it in stride. In fact, the aftermath has been quite benign, mostly consisting of them imitating the frivolous Merry and Pippin (Frodo's sidekicks), complete with goofy sayings and semi-authentic British accents. Oh, and one more thing: in the story, the band of adventurers must pass through the long-abandoned, yet still-perilous Mines of Moria. In the movie, it's a dark and forbidding place, and the scenes themselves are filled with tension and suspense. The characters speak in hushed, fearful tones of what they will find past the "Gateway to Moria", within the "walls of Moria", etc. So what do my delightful sons take away from this? They viewed the movie right before we went on our Road Trip, so while traveling we heard things like, (as we approached the door to our hotel room) "Oh look, it's the Door of Moria!" Or, in Niagara, as we wound our way along a path to look at the falls from another angle, "Ooh, careful, it's the Road to Moria!"  The silliness continued to escalate throughout the week, until it peaked the day we hiked in the State Park in Massachusetts. There we were, quietly walking through the woods soaking in Nature, when one of them dramatically burst out with, "Oh no, it's the Squirrel of Moria!" Oh. Good. Grief. Is this why books get banned? For inspiring unadultered nonsense? (My apologies, J.R.R. Tolkien!)

Anyway, most of the time, it's been a win-win proposition: we adults get to be nostalgic and revisit some of our old favorites, and our sons get to appreciate some memorable artistic creations from "Before Their Time".  Now if we could only squelch the nudity and the bad jokes before some kind of Juvenile Arts Commission comes after us with a citation, we'll be all right! Sigh. On second thought, maybe it'd be smarter to just start saving up for the inevitable fines...