hey, read the newspaper
Daughter's heart goes coffeehouse
Dec. 31, 2006 12:00 AM I've ceded my daughter to Willow House.
It's nothing official, mind you. No papers have been signed. No lawyers involved. But she seems to have developed a real fondness for the spirited and overcaffeinated bohemians, vegans and artist types she has found at Willow House. They do poetry slams at Willow House. Dad, by comparison, does not do poetry slams.
I'm exaggerating a bit here. It only seems that whenever the high school senior gets in the car, which happens a lot, the vehicle is pre-programmed to steer a course to the coffeehouse at McDowell and Third Avenue in downtown Phoenix.
This does not shock me. The Willow House is described in those online collections promoting the "Best of Phoenix" as "a bit funky and free-spirited," and that pretty much describes Junior to a tee.
It is a place where "arty-type painters, poets and performers gather," as well as "wandering bohemians."
I know she has a fondness for wandering bohemians. She brings a few of these creatures home from time to time. Allen Ginsberg and those funky fellows of the Beat Generation may not be so dead and gone after all, from what I can see.
I describe all this now because 2007 happens tomorrow and, before it's over, a lot of big events are likely to sweep over my young bohemian's life.
Her current, reach-extending fascination with moody, young philosopher-kings represents but the opening round of change. The coming year will see the retirement of that cast-iron plaid skirt (thanks again, good sisters!).
It will likely bring a change of address, whether to Tempe, Ann Arbor or upstate New York, we do not yet know. And who knows what else will come about.
She may develop an interest in tidying up after herself, in which case her mother may drop over dead in 2007. We just don't know.
We do know that the bond-breaking starts in earnest in '07. Some cackling cadre of proto-socialist mind-warpers - which is to say, some fine university faculty - will get an intellectual grip on my youngster. Somewhere.
And, the funny thing is, I don't have nearly as much of a problem with that as I once thought I would.
Kids with an interest in social issues seem to start early, and their curiosity about such matters comes from a variety of sources.
And not just from hanging around coffeehouses.
A lot of her friends over the years have come from families that take their politics seriously.
Also, there are the teachers, especially her high school teachers, and those in her upper-grade classes in particular. There seems to be a lot of Miss Jean Brodies.
Jean Brodie was the character created by Muriel Spark in her novel, The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie. Later, Maggie Smith played the character in one of my favorite films.
In it, the brilliant-but-unstable Miss Brodie, a teacher in her "prime," urges the young girls at her Scottish school to do great things. To be "Brodie" girls. Some of them take her more seriously than others. One in particular takes Miss Brodie very seriously, marching off to take up the cause of the fascist dictator Franco in the Spanish civil war. She gets blown up on a train.
I don't see my young girl's activism culminating with that level of drama, of course.
Gee thanks, Dad.
Dec. 31, 2006 12:00 AM I've ceded my daughter to Willow House.
It's nothing official, mind you. No papers have been signed. No lawyers involved. But she seems to have developed a real fondness for the spirited and overcaffeinated bohemians, vegans and artist types she has found at Willow House. They do poetry slams at Willow House. Dad, by comparison, does not do poetry slams.
I'm exaggerating a bit here. It only seems that whenever the high school senior gets in the car, which happens a lot, the vehicle is pre-programmed to steer a course to the coffeehouse at McDowell and Third Avenue in downtown Phoenix.
This does not shock me. The Willow House is described in those online collections promoting the "Best of Phoenix" as "a bit funky and free-spirited," and that pretty much describes Junior to a tee.
It is a place where "arty-type painters, poets and performers gather," as well as "wandering bohemians."
I know she has a fondness for wandering bohemians. She brings a few of these creatures home from time to time. Allen Ginsberg and those funky fellows of the Beat Generation may not be so dead and gone after all, from what I can see.
I describe all this now because 2007 happens tomorrow and, before it's over, a lot of big events are likely to sweep over my young bohemian's life.
Her current, reach-extending fascination with moody, young philosopher-kings represents but the opening round of change. The coming year will see the retirement of that cast-iron plaid skirt (thanks again, good sisters!).
It will likely bring a change of address, whether to Tempe, Ann Arbor or upstate New York, we do not yet know. And who knows what else will come about.
She may develop an interest in tidying up after herself, in which case her mother may drop over dead in 2007. We just don't know.
We do know that the bond-breaking starts in earnest in '07. Some cackling cadre of proto-socialist mind-warpers - which is to say, some fine university faculty - will get an intellectual grip on my youngster. Somewhere.
And, the funny thing is, I don't have nearly as much of a problem with that as I once thought I would.
Kids with an interest in social issues seem to start early, and their curiosity about such matters comes from a variety of sources.
And not just from hanging around coffeehouses.
A lot of her friends over the years have come from families that take their politics seriously.
Also, there are the teachers, especially her high school teachers, and those in her upper-grade classes in particular. There seems to be a lot of Miss Jean Brodies.
Jean Brodie was the character created by Muriel Spark in her novel, The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie. Later, Maggie Smith played the character in one of my favorite films.
In it, the brilliant-but-unstable Miss Brodie, a teacher in her "prime," urges the young girls at her Scottish school to do great things. To be "Brodie" girls. Some of them take her more seriously than others. One in particular takes Miss Brodie very seriously, marching off to take up the cause of the fascist dictator Franco in the Spanish civil war. She gets blown up on a train.
I don't see my young girl's activism culminating with that level of drama, of course.
Gee thanks, Dad.