Kitty's Conquest

Mouse that was is no more

Rigored mouse body adheres to floor

Its body rising, a chore

Adventures in Teenage Driving Part Deux

So my boy is pressing me hard to drive my Smart Car (the car he previously loathed) - now he says it's fun to drive  - I say it's  a tool to pick up chicks - a notion he vehemently denies...But my thinking is the car is cute,  and cute begets cute - right?

However,  it's more of a bro thing -  at crew practice,  my son's coach and rowing mates love the tiny ride, and by association, my son.  It takes four of them to pick up the car with  maximum passengers - two.  They also, or maybe just my kid, think the puff of dust from the peel out is pretty cool too.

Now, you may wonder what I get while they have all that fun.  Well, the 2010 Toyota Corolla - a smooth ride , but in contrast to my diminutive baby,  it is a behemoth boat....At first, I am impressed with his radio thinking it must be Sirius as uber explicit rap/hip hop lyrics are completely  unfiltered, but much to my dismay I discover, no, it is a CD - a Big Sean (who in fact is quite small like my car) CD  - oh Tipper, Tipper, Tipper, Tipper, Tipper Gore - Help!

Mothers

Mother is subjective, often the subject is not the mother at all, but instead, the one acting the role of mother.  Confusing, I know, but true.  Mother is often grandmother, Aunt or sister – usually, however, grandmother is mother.  Grandmother and sometimes Great Grandmother do not take the role of mother lightly. Grandmothers become mothers almost as birthright. They too were raised by someone other their biological mother more than likely their grandmother –so it is expected.  It is expected for the child of a fifteen year old to be raised by someone else, someone older and more experienced in raising children.  It is a cycle that is continuous, grandmother (mother) will likely raise several children of her children – whoa, I know this is confusing but it is the cycle of life – Polly is now eighteen and she wants another baby, Polly is not married, Polly may not even have a special man in her life but Polly does have a soft spot for babies and Polly’s grandmother/mother is there to raise a wee one, yet again.  

Seventeenth Birthday

My offer of bringing a delicious pizza and scrumptious cake is rejected.  I insist upon dropping by anyway with his presents and a small cake.  I am met at the door by my ex-husband, not with a hello but with a "we are about to have dinner".  My son opens his gifts while his father doles out their steak dinner.  I leave the cake and the house after the brief present opening session.

One present, that did not arrive on his birthday, but instead a day later, is the portable phonograph he requested.  He opens it and I receive one of those frantic calls at work that I have become accustomed to - he has broken the phonograph player - detached wires and small parts are everywhere.  I explain as calmly as I can - which is not calm at all - that there is nothing I can do about it while at work and that I will look at it when I get home.

Well,  turns out that while removing the protective plastic casing  a little too hard, he managed to pull out the needle and several essential wires along with it - And, yes, he did, within minutes of receiving his new phonograph, break his new phonograph.  It's a few days later and at the moment, he doesn't much care...

Adventures in Teenage Driving

A bunch of near misses while driving to school with his temporary license.   Driving test  - missed the first maneuver - bam - over - the battle axe examiner stopped the test - and he flunked.  Temporary expires  the next day.  A few days later  he takes the written test required to renew temps - nope, I mean yep - flunked that too. 

 A few weeks and few wins later,  approximately give or take 24 hours after obtaining his drivers license,  his brand new car is totaled as he is jackknifed while taking a left turn.  Despite his looking before turning, and that he was hit by a female driving too fast while talking on her cell phone, he is initially deemed at fault for a right of way violation. 

 More importantly, he walked away without a scratch, his dad lawyered up, and after several court appearances, the case is dismissed.

However, during that waiting period between court dates and the final result, life continued to be interesting, and not without incident,  in the teenage driving department.  

I receive a frantic call while at work,  upon entering our driveway,  he grazed his second car,  a not new but barely used and looking like new, Toyota Corolla,  agains't a low lying stone wall and scratched the front right side and fender.  He did not see the wall.  I am fairly certain, that prior to that moment, he was not aware of the wall's existence.

 In a panic,  he declares the certainty of his license being suspended after another violation.  I chuckle a little bit, which needless to say, did not go over well.  I explained that what he violated was our property - both the car and the wall - nothing authorities care or need to know about.  

Dodging another bullet,  all that was needed was a buffer and compound.

On no, I am not done.  A few weeks later,  he urgently summons me to show me his car windows and says that he couldn't see anything while he was driving.  I told him, in no uncertain terms, that next time he can't see anything that he should not drive.  I also showed him where his defroster controls were for future reference...He said he kept wiping the windows trying to see - he said other drivers were flashing their lights at him - I asked him if perhaps his lights weren't on - he said no that they were on.  I asked him if he was perhaps swerving while tinkering with his windows - he said maybe so.

Another bullet dodged.

Christmas

Santa is white and Christmas is about presents.  It is a birthday for Christ sake.

I find giving more satisfactory than receiving.  I give on a personal level earmarked by the following standards:

The present is something asked for like the flat screen tv I gave my son for Christmas. It can do everything but dance a jig and he has been talking about it since Boxing Day of last year.

The gift is something you know the recipient will love - my son loves my selections for him as my radar is never faulty.  My son's favorite color is bright orange.  This year in addition to the behemoth tv, I gave him a nike orange high tech emblazoned with logos (it can do anything) shirt, a nike orange running pull over made of the lushest fabric - just yummy, and expensive orange (I had to rob a bank to buy them) nike basketball socks.  All the presents were a huge hit and if he gets a job at a construction site, he is all set with a uniform. An additional bonus,  as a nike stock holder, my shares are through the roof.

I love the present I am giving -  this usually works unless one has horrible style and taste - not the case here as my style and taste are impeccable.

And finally, it's likely that I created one or more gifts.  Over the years my loved ones have received a plethora of photographs and photo books that invariably become doorstops.

To conclude, it should be noted that  other aspects are associated with the art of gift giving, only one of which I will touch upon here, and that is re-gifting.  Re-gifting is when some one gives a gift they
were given to someone else.  Re-gifting is a sensitive (some say insensitive) and touchy subject, often featured on chat shows,  as many people have strong opinions about the practice.

Although re-giving does not pass my smell test, I won't be judgmental when relaying my experiences with the odd gift that was once someone else's.  There is someone in my circle, who shall most definitely remain nameless, who became the pinnacle re-gifter when she gave me a birthday card that had been sent to her - with modicum effort she crossed out the persons name with a big X like an illiterate King signing his name.  This year for Christmas, she gave me the free wallet size diary that was given to her by American Express as a card holder. As I too carry Amex, the present was redundant. And - still no judgement - when in my presence, she gave her free desk size American Express diary to someone else in our circle, it was like the Cole Porter lyrics from a song made famous when crooned by Frank Sinatra, a kick in the head.

Letter to Anderson Cooper

To Anderson Cooper in reaction to his story about that rich kid who got drunk and  drove, killed four people and paralyzed another -  The word on the street according to a few head shrinkers is that he suffers from Affluenza....

Afflu - What?

So much is wrong with this picture....

The father suffers from the disorder Stupidenza - I made that up, you can do that.  The judge, who sentenced the boy with probation, and approved the half a million dollar luxury rehab stint in Sunny California - call a spade a spade - she is an idiot.

Children  and young adults with recognized mental illness, like paranoid schizophrenia, who commit murder, may not  end up in jail, but typically, despite demographics and family income, are locked up in mental health facilities - not fancy ones -  for real life treatment (not always pretty - rarely fun or comfortable - i.e. no racquetball games or spa days) to protect themselves and others from further harm.

There is also the nature-nurture factor to consider.  Clearly, for this boy, appropriate nurture was lacking, but as for nature, well, we are who we are, and we do what we do...

To conclude, the boy would be better served with Immersion Therapy - I kinda made this one up too -

In the South Side of LA without dough re me, a weapon or communication device, to spend some time with the Bloods and the Crips.

Best,

A Ramsey Sutherland

Coalition for Common Sense in America,  Executive Director

Center for Reality Therapy,  Director of the Board