Duuh-Duh....Duuh-Duh

I couldn’t have been more excited.  It was finally time to sit down with my sons to watch one of my all time favorite movies.  JAWS.  I couldn’t wait to see their reactions to some of the pivotal scenes, to the appearance of the shark, to the watery terror that still resides in a small box at the back of my brain.

I first saw Jaws in the theater with my dad and a younger cousin.  We were about 10 and 8, I think.  Not sure exactly how old we were, but I remember with absolute clarity the moment Chrissie Watkins gets yanked under the water for the first time shrieking in terror.  I can recall precisely our reaction when the fish smashed into Hooper’s cage; and when Ben Gardner’s head rolls into view through the hole in the bottom of his boat, our asses clenched so tightly we both levitated off our seats. 

It’s been more than thirty years since that first viewing.  I bet I’ve seen Jaws a hundred times, and I still consider it when I go in the ocean.  Every shadow is a toothy killer.  Everything that brushes my legs is finny death.  It was that affecting.

OK, back to the present.  Both boys loved the movie, but I suspect it won’t scar them as it did me.  I was sure of that when the aforementioned head rolled out of the boat, my younger son yelled “Ah, zombie!!”  I know it shocked both kids, but for any number of reasons they saw through the robotic shark.  They appreciated the movie, my older (12 year old) son even proclaiming Spielberg a genius when the movie ended, but they were already beyond the psychological horror.

I know it’s cliché to compare our (40 something’s) childhood to our kids, but this weekend made it more clear that kids today really are a little more jaded than I was.  Whether it be from television content, more intense video games, internet access to everything, round the clock doom and gloom news coverage, their small psyche’s have had to absorb, filter and deal with much more than I remember having to.

The moment the credits were done, we talked about their favorite parts and the special effects…they always like creative special effects.  Then they quickly moved on to requesting another movie viewing.  Now they want to see Alien.  That one is a little more intense, but I’m considering letting them watch it.  Part of me wants them to be scared like I was at these movies but part of me doesn’t want them to go through it.  Either way, I’m more than happy to sit and share the experience with them.  And if I’m “lucky” one of these days, I’ll have to deal with a couple kids who can’t sleep afterward.  If nothing else it taught me a lesson in not living vicariously through my kids, but instead to enjoy living with them.

RALSTON HAS SPOKEN

THAT IS ALL

You Say Potato, I Say Solanum Tuberosum

I had an interesting thought this week.  Why do we (read: I) care about other people’s practices?  I had this thought about religion specifically.  There are certainly many different ways to answer the question, but when it comes right down to it, it shouldn’t matter to me one way or the other how/why anyone observes their particular religion/philosophy/spirituality/etc.

For the record, I was raised catholic.  Church every Sunday until I was an “adult”, baptized, communion, CCD and confirmation.  Christmas was a birthday and Easter was a resurrection.  As soon as I was old enough to make my own decision, I was out.  I can’t put my finger on exactly when, but it was around the first time my parents didn’t force me to church when I was away at school.  As I grew and learned and formed an intelligent view of nature, the world and its people, there was a point when a bell went off in my head.  That bell signaled the end of organized religion in my life.  It didn’t make sense any more.  I grew out of it – thankfully.  I say thankfully, because I can’t imagine being one of the lemmings any longer.

Now hold on a second.  Before you start your hate mail because I just insulted you, consider that this is my choice.  Just because I see it as silly doesn’t mean it shouldn’t work for you.

For the longest time I viewed adults, especially those I would consider intelligent, who stuck to organized religion as sad, weak sheep.  But, in the spirit of live and let live, I think I could actually be wrong about that.  Not about the religion being bunk part, but in the looking down my nose part.  I understand how silly it is to believe in an all powerful god/creator and a virgin birth and resurrection.  But I suppose some people need to cling to that faith.  I can’t imagine why, but as long as they don’t try to force it on me or my family, why should I care?

I know it sounds like a simple thing, but coming to this acceptance wasn’t easy for me.  Respected friends and family fall into the above categories, and I don’t like thinking any of them as being so naïve or needy.  However, since I’m absolutely pro choice in all aspects of life I needed to let myself relax and allow others to do as they wish without judgment (when possible – hehe).  You may choose to have faith that there actually is a heaven where people go when they die.  That’s cool.  You may believe that we constantly come back as other beings for eternity.  OK.  I can’t prove otherwise, so until I can I guess wll just agree to disagree.

So as a shepherd to my sheep I say, “Go to you fields, graze as you like, where you like, when you like.  But don’t let anyone shear you while you’re out there.  At the end of the day we’ll all be together again in the barn.”

RALSTON HAS SPOKEN

THAT IS ALL