For What It's Worth

It's Complicated -- Marriage, That Is!

Bruce Sallan gave up a show biz career to parent his two boys and now writes about his experiences on "A Dad's Point-of-View" and is the house dad at "Mom Logic."

My wife took me to see Nancy Meyers’ new movie, “It’s Complicated,” which stars Meryl Streep, Alec Baldwin, and Steve Martin.  She had seen it a day or two before and wanted to see it with me saying, “It would be good for us.”  Honestly, I do tend to like what is typically labeled “chick flicks” but don’t like director Nancy Meyers’ perfect world, perfect rich characters, perfect looking people, dressed and coifed just perfectly.  But, for the sake of marital harmony, I agreed.

I didn’t expect what followed.  Throughout the movie, my wife was jabbing me in the ribs whenever she wanted me to notice a point being made that she felt related to me or us. So, I left with bruised ribs, which ached even more toward the end of the movie during the one, truly hilarious scene. I really enjoyed laughing that hard, in spite of the pained ribs, which I’ve totally exaggerated for sympathy anyway. 

Without a doubt, the best thing about the movie is that comic scene near the end. “It’s Complicated” is also that rare movie title that really works and has so many other relevant meanings related to life, marriage, raising kids, and even a facebook status. 

There’s a definite reason that second marriages fail more than first ones, and third marriages fail even at a higher rate.  Our lives are that much more complicated the further we progress in them.  Add into the mix children, aging parents, job changes and losses, menopause, weight gain, other health issues, and you tend to wonder how we can get along at all as we get older and these things crop up. 

Bits & Pieces

Bruce Sallan gave up a show biz career to parent his two boys and now writes about his experiences on "A Dad's Point-of-View" and is the house dad at "Mom Logic."

Sometimes there are many ideas fighting for attention in my mind, covering all the subjects I tend to write a column about, but each isn’t worthy of its own full-length coverage. Consequently, I collect them.  So, in no particular order, here are my current random musings. 

* A great feel-good dad moment occurred when I complimented Will on how terrific and cute his new girlfriend was.  Without missing a beat, he replied, “You taught me well, Dad.”  Guess he’ll get to use my truck, after all. 

* Do you wonder how your kids can watch the same video over and over again? . I’ve never gone to see a movie twice in the theater, on purpose, with the exception of my second favorite all-time film, “And Now My Love,” directed by Claude LeLouch. That meant, of course, going to the one theater in town that was showing this particular foreign film, paying admission twice, and seeing it a second time.  

The option of watching this movie on television was not available for such a relatively obscure film and there were no VHS cassettes yet, let alone DVDs. Unlike my kids, I’ve rarely watched the same DVD repeatedly with the exception of “My Fair Lady,” and “Singin’ In the Rain” (my all-time favorite).  I think the phenomenon of seeing movies repeatedly began with “Star Wars.”  Maybe some more knowledgeable film buff than I can confirm this? 

Words Can Hurt As Much As Fists

Bruce Sallan gave up a show biz career to parent his two boys and now writes about his experiences on "A Dad's Point-of-View" and is the house dad at "Mom Logic."

Most of us gossip without giving it any thought whatsoever.  Yet, its effects can be so damaging and full of impact.  Our kids face this sort of thing in high school in ways we couldn’t have imagined long ago.  With the advent of instant communications, whether it is instant messaging, tweeting, or immediate photos and videos, the ability to communicate to a wide swatch of people is available to everyone.  I used to think Polaroid cameras were pretty cool.

So, when our kid is captured doing something embarrassing on someone’s phone video, it appears that evening on YouTube.  When a kid chooses to expose him or herself via these sorts of instant means, it is done without any cost or time to even reflect on that decision.  When that’s done, it’s “out there” forever.  I think this all comes with a high cost.  The benefits are good, on occasion, as with the recent election backlash in Iran, where the government couldn’t shut down outside communication due to the existence of these pervasive tech tools.

But, in our everyday lives, gossip is destructive.  You may think it’s fun to browse the tabloids at your local newsstand or while in line at the market, but private gossip among family and friends is what I’m referring to in this column.  What we say or write can hurt or heal as is so powerfully written in Rabbi Joseph Telushkin’s book on the subject, called “Words That Hurt, Words That Heal.”

I Hate New Year's Resolutions

Bruce Sallan gave up a show biz career to parent his two boys and now writes about his experiences on "A Dad's Point-of-View" and is the house dad at "Mom Logic."

I hate New Year’s Resolutions. I swore I’d never write one. I misspoke. So, this is going to be a New Year’s Resolutions column, with a twist: it will include both resolutions and wishes. I am going to mix my own personal resolutions and wishes with those I project for others, and the world. In no particular order, herewith my New Year’s Resolutions and wishes: 

* I hope for a New Year with true conciliation and dialogue between our political parties and, on a more personal level, between each of us that may differ on a particular political issue.  It has gotten way too divisive and angry. 

* My boys are not little kids anymore.  I need to really listen to them and try and understand their concerns vs. interrupting them and lecturing them.  While they’re not adults, they deserve more respect and treatment as their own individuals. 

* With the recent happy ending result for David and Sean Goldman (a father an son separated by an abduction to Brazil and re-united on Christmas Eve, after five years), I wish for less acrimony between divorcing spouses and a little more care and concern for the children.  All so-called Family Courts and the CPS (Child Protection Services) should actually care about is the children’s welfare.  That is why I’ve called these courts, “Anti-Family Courts.” I also want to use my forum, through my columns, Facebook “fan” page (please join it at “A Dad’s Point-of-View” on Facebook), and web-site, to learn more myself and disseminate useful information on these issues.

* Fact and declaration--I love my wife.  She’s gone through a heck-of-a-lot of adjustment in the short time we’ve been together--in joining with us three boys and two dogs.  I need to be more patient, caring, and open to her needs and feelings.  She’s a “keeper” by any definition and I should continue to court and woo her--every day! 

Does All This Tech Stuff Really Help Us?

Bruce Sallan gave up a show biz career to parent his two boys and now writes about his experiences on "A Dad's Point-of-View" and is the house dad at "Mom Logic." 

I love technology.  I hate technology.  I get so frustrated with technology.  All of the above.  That’s my generation and definitely me.  My friend Marty is a tech wizard, while my wife is still using computers primarily for e-mail.  I’m somewhat in the middle with my knowledge and depth of tech use and dependence, though my boys laugh at my attempts to learn anything new.  But, it’s hard to resist all we hear about what every new tech gadget has to offer, especially for us men (a.k.a. boys and their toys).

When I get a new tech device, like a digital camera for instance, I am very excited by the purchase and I take it home with pride and eagerness.  I carefully place it on my desk where it usually sits for a week or so until I muster the courage to open the box.  Then, I take out the various parts of the device, and ask for some help to lift out the user manual.  On viewing this lengthy document, in 42 different languages, I sit down discouraged, and place all the pieces and the manual on top of the just opened box, where it will sit for another week or two.  A strong drink will finally give me the courage to start the learning process.

What inevitably follows is that I get stuck somewhere in the process and disgustingly pack all the parts back in the box with the full expectation to return it to CostCo, where I always buy such tech stuff, as they have the most liberal and no-questions-asked return policy.  Usually, some sanity or maybe pride returns and I either figure it out or, embarrassingly, call the help line where I’m put on hold for four days after pressing 257 buttons on the self-help menu, until I finally get to speak to someone with a heavy accent that I don’t understand, in some country in a distant time zone.

Now, all of the above is sort of an exaggeration.  It is usually much worse. LOL (now, I’m testing you). I’m capable of learning new things but these episodes often remind me of a wonderful article I read years ago titled, “Why Can’t They Make It Like a Refrigerator?”  It was about the simplicity of buying and using a fridge compared to the struggles, especially when that article was written so many years ago, with buying and setting up computers.

Our PC World Sucks!

Bruce Sallan gave up a show biz career to parent his two boys and now writes about his experiences on "A Dad's Point-of-View" and is the house dad at "Mom Logic."

I am more and more troubled by how male and female roles in our society have evolved.  Clearly, I may just not fully understand and accept these changes, but I want to understand for the sake of my boys. I’m trying to teach them to be men, how to treat women, and to prepare my sons for the current social environment and workplace that we live in.  And, frankly, I need to learn and adjust for myself, as this column will show.

I was raised in the fifties and sixties, where men and women had casual conversational fun with each other, both in the work place and out of it.  It was fun and not harassment, to be clear, and included healthy banter and even occasional flirting.  But, today this is forbidden and larger companies have seminars on proper work behavior that, I believe, limits camaraderie and rapport between colleagues.  As communication often is via e-mail, the chances of misunderstandings are only enhanced.

Recently, I sent an e-mail to a female editor of a website that carries my column, asking about a change I’d noticed in how my column was presented.  It happens to be a mom’s website and I’m the only male blogger.  I asked the question about the change and then said, “I am your only man, after all.”  To me, it is true and was completely innocuous.

Will the Kids Ever Leave?

Bruce Sallan gave up a show biz career to parent his two boys and now writes about his experiences on "A Dad's Point-of-View" and is the house dad at "Mom Logic."

What an interesting contemporary question: will our kids ever leave? I left home at sixteen to go away to college and never returned, except for visits. I stayed close to my parents, and they did help me financially through college, though I worked every summer to supplement my education expenses and pay for my own spending. Loren (my wife) and I wonder when will our kids be independent enough to afford to leave? 

The other day I talked with a mother who has two teenage daughters. One is graduating from high school this year while the other has two more years to go. I asked what were their plans, and had she discussed it with her husband, and I was surprised to hear she had no clue. Neither she, her husband, or the kids really knew where the girls were heading, especially when it came to the idea of supporting themselves with a real job, after college. 

Her kids have had short-term minimum wage jobs, enough to pay for the occasional designer jeans they love, but certainly not enough for life, as we know it. It seemed clear that they were going to have to support their daughters through college, but then what? From everything I’m hearing from other friends, this is more typical than not of the current state of preparedness of our kids to live on their own. And, more and more, the kids are returning home after college still unprepared to support themselves and, now, with the added problems of diminishing job opportunities. 

Funeral for a Friend

Charlotte Safavi regularly blogs on the Huffington Post, and has written for other publications including The Washington Post. Though born and educated in England, her heritage is Iranian and she now resides in Northern Virginia. 

Last year my eight-year-old son R.J. showed me a bird's nest in our silver maple. The wide-girthed tree crowns our modest backyard, an earth-bound shelter for suburban fauna, scrappy squirrels, toothsome chipmunks and commonplace feathered friends.

I decide the nest belongs to robins. Not because I saw anything through the murky blur of my kid's binoculars, but because he found blue eggshells on the ground beneath the nest.

"R.J., help me take out the trash," I say one afternoon, words that I will regret shortly.

I lug the overflowing recycle bin and he pulls the trashcan-on-wheels down our sloped driveway to the street. While I rearrange newspapers running like a creek, R.J. walks back up the drive.

"Mom, come," he shouts. "A baby bird fell out of the nest!"

Sure enough, a fledgling lies on the patio, beak gaped, neck distended, claws curled, a sad thing. R.J. stands transfixed, before breaking off and running erratic circles around the lawn. For a child who cried inconsolably at age three when a car blew up in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, his reaction does not surprise me.

Swine Flu Is Still Just Flu

Bruce Sallan gave up a show biz career to parent his two boys and now writes about his experiences on "A Dad's Point-of-View" and is the house dad at "Mom Logic."

 My Son Has the Swine Flu – A Daily Journal  

We just went through the swine flu with our older son, Will. We didn’t panic or allow the hysteria of the msm (mainstream media) to scare us.  His first reaction was simply, “Darn, I’m going to miss Halloween.” I believe our media have become hysteria mongers, as well as all too often focusing on their agenda vs. objective reporting.  They devote way too much time to subjects unworthy of so much coverage, such as the balloon boy or the tragic deaths of celebrities. With the swine flu, we’ve been deluged with scare reports from the media, ignoring the fact that each year tens of thousands of Americans die of the regular flu.  As with AIDS, the panic is over-wrought and generalized to scare everyone when the reality is there are more at-risk groups for just about every such illness.  

• EDITOR'S NOTE:  Bruce Sallan is not a doctor and this column is not intended to be giving medical advice.  It is about his experience with his son and the swine flu, and his belief that the media may have exaggerated and scared the public about its risks. Regardless, you should take every precaution, consult your doctor if there are any symptoms, and to secure proper information, go to the CDC (Centers for Disease Control) web-sites - http://cdc.gov/h1n1flu/sick.htm. And we now return you to our blog...

I kept a daily journal of our experience, which follows.  I hope it’s helpful to all parents and people in giving a more realistic view of this strain of flu. I still caution everyone to be careful, see their doctors, and otherwise be smart about washing hands, but hope you will have a better perspective of this than the media has foolishly scared us to think.  Day One – Will is sent home from school as the nurse called to say he had a mild fever.  We put him to bed, took his temp, and called our pediatrician.  He had a 101 fever, a slight cough, but otherwise seemed fine. The pediatrician’s office said to give him Motrin, fluids, and see if he still had a temperature tomorrow and, if so, to bring him in.  Later that evening, his temp was just 100 and he was feeling pretty good.

Having Writ, Moving On

Lauren Kessler is an author, narrative journalist and director of the literary non-fiction graduate program at the University of Oregon who blogs at Thin House.

I was down at UPS yesterday arranging to have the final edited version of my manuscript sent back to my editor in New York.

“Another book?”  the woman behind the counter asked, all smiles.  She’s been following my work for a while now.  “You must be so excited!”

Actually, not. 

I’m more like…deflated.  Depressed, even.

When I’m excited is when I’m writing, when I’m immersed in a subject, hip-deep in the world of the book, energy focused, all cylinders firing.  The excitement begins to mount somewhere around chapter four.  By then I’ve found a way into the book.  I’m warmed up.  I am seeing the possibilities, and the narrative is starting to make itself visible.  Around chapter four I am keenly aware of the difficulties I face, of the challenges I will encounter and have to master if the book is to be successful.  But, unlike in the throes of chapter one, two and often three, I am not in a state of semi-paralysis, fearful that I am not, nor will I ever be, up to the task at hand.  By chapter four I have a toe-hold.  I am by then – biochemically speaking -- scared enough to have a good adrenaline rush going but not so scared as to be awash in cortisol.  I am alive, alert and ready for action.

More than that:  I am thrilled to be so thoroughly absorbed.  My life takes on a shape.  There is order to my days.  Order to my reading, my thinking, my conversation, even my dreaming.  The book is like a planet, and I am its moon.  I love the tug of that gravitational pull.  I don’t ever want to be released.