IV, V, VI, I, II, III or I, II, III, IV, V, VI

Parenting is hard. There is no absolute right way to do it and it’s filled with all kinds of challenges and decisions that need to be made.

But there’s one particular decision I need to make for my children that has been weighing on me for quite some time now. It’s a tough one that we all have to make at some point and its outcome can have grave and long lasting effects on our children. Pat’s children are older than mine so most likely he has already had to make this decision so I thought I would seek his advice.

Pat, which order should I have my kids watch the Star Wars movies in? Should I go with the original three then the new three, like we did since they were released that way, or should they watch them in chronological order of how the story goes thus watching the news ones first then the originals?

Pat:  My eyes are still kind of buggy from the title of this post, Christian. I thought I was doing an eye exam or something like it. Roman numerals? Really?

Umm...at the risk of offending Star Wars fans, do you even have to tell your kids that the three most recent films were even made? I mean, Iran almost got away with denying the Holocaust. I bet you could get away with a little historical revision. Besides, your kids are gonna’ have to find SOMETHING to hate you for. Why not this?

Christian: Hmmm... Not telling them about them you say? Interesting. I hadn’t thought about that. Is this what you did with your kids?

*dials first six digits of Child Protection Services, waits for Pat’s answer*

Pat:  Nope, they saw all of them, multiple times, in multiple orders. Had nothing to do with film appreciation or cultural collateral or being “with it”. It had everything to do with me and their mom needing a good three hours of peace and quiet so we could sleep/drink/makesweetsweetlove while avoiding parenting responsibilities. What do you think the chances of being walked in on asleep/drunk/makingsweetsweetlove are when they’ve got Jawas, Droids or JarJar keeping ‘em happy?

Christian: So which order did you have them initially watch the movies while you and your wife were having drunken sex while sleeping?

Pat:  Well, duh! That’s a no brainer! We went with the classic--and what should be mandated--IV, V, VI, I, II, III. Wait...I think. I’ve never been good with Roman numerals. We did “Star Wars”, and then went forward, and then I guess went backwards before going forwards again. Right? I mean, isn’t that how we all did it?

Just to be clear, I was talking about the movies, not about drunken sex. Re-reading the above, I realized that some of our readers might mistakenly think that my wife and I have some freaky sci-fi sexual fetishes.  

Not my wife.

I think I’m going to get in trouble for talking about this stuff here, ‘cause my wife reads our blog. Yep...pretty sure I’m gonna’ get busted.

Christian: Are those waffles your wife that woman is holding? That’s weird. I don’t remember any waffles in the Star Wars movies. There must be a waffle character in the newer movies that I’m not remembering.

Anyways, I’m glad to hear you went with the traditional viewing order of IV, V, VI, I, II, III. To be honest, that was going to be the order I have my kids watch them regardless of what you had to say.

I feel the main reason, amongst many, for watching them in this order is so that the surprise and shock of learning that Darth Vader is Luke’s father can still be experienced. SPOILER ALERT! Oh wait, the SPOILER ALERT was probably supposed to go before I revealed Vader is Luke’s father. Oh well.

If you watch them in chronological order, by the time Luke is introduced you already know Vader is his father. Lame. That would be like watching the Sixth Sense already knowing Bruce Willis is dead. SPOILER ALERT! Dammit. Missed it again. Sorry.

So at what age did you finally let your kids watch them? According to my wife 6 months was too early so I have been waiting for a few years now.

Pat:  Geez, Christian...6 months is WAY too early. It has been scientifically tested and proven that kids’ brains at that age have no ability to even comprehend the power of a light saber over a blaster, so the whole premise is lost on them. Waste of time. Complete waste of time. You better start over.

We waited until our oldest was two and a half, and our youngest was just one half. Wait. That’s the same as 6 months, isn’t it. Shit. We do this ALL the time. I think she’s gonna’ be pretty screwed up. Oh well. Details.

Christian:  Don’t worry. As long as she can discuss the nuances of the Empire’s governmental control strategies over the various planets throughout the galaxy in online chatrooms while living in your basement as an adult, she’ll be just fine.

Just fine.

(source)

Bless You!

As dedicated social scientists, Christian and I are always analyzing, scrutinizing and martinizing our own cultural practices, so as to avoid any notions of cultural bias in our reporting.

One practice we--or at least I--am firm on in terms of its universality is that act of blessing people after sneezing. It is good and proper to bless one who sneezes, and those who don’t are just rude, plain and simple.

Who needs a blessing?

What do you say, Christian? You agree with me 100%, right?

Christian: I couldn’t disagree with you any more. Or any less if less is more. Pat, we live in modern times. The original purpose of saying “bless you” was probably because people used to think that Satan was stealing their soul through their noses or something, but we know better now.

We live in an age where super-telephones and exciting advancements in cereal are common place. Why should we hold onto these archaic pointless customs?

Pat:  Yeah, but now with no Pope*, who’s gonna’ do the blessing? Huh?

And besides--trust me, I’ve thought A LOT on this one--who doesn’t like a blessing? I’m not organized religiously one bit, but even I won’t turn down a free blessing. Mormon blessing? Thank you, sister-wives! Jewish blessing? L’Chaim! Buddhist blessing? Om mani padme hum, friend-o! Sikh blessing? Gracias, and watch that saber, yo!

So much better than a silent, lonely wipe on the sleeve, no?

Christian: Yeah but what about the other side of it? You seem to enjoy receiving blessings but how about giving them out? That’s the part of it that I dislike the most. I don’t like feeling obligated to have to say bless you to every Tom, Dick, and Beatrice anytime they sneeze.

Especially those multiple sneezes people. You know the type. The ones that if they sneeze it’s always followed with two or three more seconds later. Those people are obviously starved for attention.  Am I supposed to say bless you for each sneeze? I’ve got TV to watch and couches to nap on. Who has time to give all those blessings? I’m not an ordained minister people.

Pat:  Oh, well, I am. Ordained. As a minister...and other things, but that’s a different issue. Ordained and officiant of many weddings, in fact, including my sister-in-law and mother-in-law. They didn’t marry each other. I don’t think you can do that. Can you?

So, no...those multiple sneezers only get one from me. But, unlike you, I kinda’ like blessing people. It’s fun to take a break in the middle of a conversation and--“bless you”--make sure someone stays pure and holy. And I love those opportunities to surprise a fellow shopper in the store by tracking them down and blessing them. I’ve even crossed over a whole three aisles just to offer a blessing. All the way from frozen goods to health and beauty products. I think the soap caused it.

Christian: So is it the idea of actually “blessing” someone you like or do you just like acknowledging that someone sneezed? Because that’s basically all you are doing.

How about instead of saying “bless you”, you say “Hey nice sneeze!”. Or “I heard that”. Because that is all that is being accomplished by saying “bless you”.

Pat:  Hmm...I’m not sure. That’s a good one. You’ve kind of got me stumped. Because I’ve been known to bless people not just for sneezes, but for yawns, burps, hiccups...even heavy sighs.

Huh. I think maybe I secretly want to be a priest. Shit. That’s not going to work, what with me being married and all.

Christian: Priests can’t get married?

Pat:  I’m not sure, but I think my Catholic friends and family have told me that at the moment, priests can only marry god. So...in that sense, god is kinda’ like the Bill Paxton character on “Big Love”, only without the three houses and all those kids.

Heyyyyy...check out my priests!

Hey! That’s either an AWESOME analogy or I’m going straight to hell. Hopefully the former.

Christian: Don’t worry, I don’t think that will have any affect on you going to hell.

So let me ask you this; If you were a priest and could “officially” perform blessings for traditional blessing reasons, like conducting exorcisms or the launching of new boat, do you think you would still feel the need to bless people when they sneeze?

Pat:  Yep, and maybe even more so. Know why? ‘Cause it’s often the little things that go unnoticed and mean the most! (Hey--I’ve been thinking about supplementing our blog-income by submitting cliché sayings to Hallmark™ for use on their greeting cards. What did you think of that last one?)

Christian: Blog income?

*at the time this post was written, no one had a CLUE who Francis was. Not even the Argentinians, ‘cause that wasn’t his name there.

Fear of Latitudes: Session 3

Awhile back Pat was brave enough to admit that he had a fear of latitudes (the post can be found here and/or here). After calling him a lati-pansy I decide that I wanted to help him conquer these fears. We learned it had something to do with some gibberish about something or something but we also learned that a picture of Jennifer Connely had a calming effect on Pat that helps him deal with this fear.

We had a second session that began with a picture of Jennifer Connely - that can be found here and way over here - during which we learned that Pat’s latitude phobia may have had something to do with a sexy Swedish au pair named Inga that Pat stayed with for a bit while visiting Sweden in the second grade. But that’s where we left things off.

I figured it’s about time we check in again to see how Pat is doing with conquering this oddball fear of his. But of course we first need to start with a picture of the star from the hit show Friends and and the new Hunger Game movies Jennifer Connely, so that Pat feels comfortable and safe before we dive in.

Jennifer

Christian: So Pat, how have things been since our last session?

Pat:  Pretty good, but I’ve gone nowhere near any northern latitudes. Well, I had to teach students about countries like Russia and Canada and Finland and Denmark--did you know that they own Greenland? Crazy!--so I guess I got kind of close, but it was mainly just with maps.

Yeah, pretty good. But now you have me second guessing something else, which is kind of bringing up some new feelings. I never said that Inga was an au pair. She was a friend. That’s all. But now I’m wondering if you saw something in my words that gave you insight into what she REALLY was, and I’m wondering why I might have had a Swedish nanny for a while and why my parents didn’t feel comfortable telling me.

So...yeah. Other that completely questioning everything I thought I knew about my childhood, I think I’m good.

Christian: Here’s a quote by you from our second session:

“I don’t remember much of Inga, except that when she stayed with my family (exchange student? Au pair? Mail order sister-wife?) we had a lot of dinner parties...”

So the thing I saw in your words that made me think she might have been an au pair was the part where you say au pair.

I’m starting to get greatly concerned about you. Seems like you are really suppressing this sensuous Inga woman. She must have made quite an impact on you. Continue.

Pat:  GOD! I HATE it when you use my exact words in quote form to remind me of what I said. I’ve told you lots and lots of times (I think) that I’m not aware of a good 70% of the words that come out of my mouth....or fingers.

And please don’t use the word “sensuous” anymore. I think Inga might be, like, 70 now. I feel like I need to apologize to her for the image that just popped into my head. And I WOULD, too, except that she lives so damn far north.

Christian: I did a google image search for Swedish au pair and this was the first image that came up so I’m assuming this is Inga:

Definitely Inga

(source)

So this sensuous sensual Inga woman seems to be stirring some strong emotions in you. Tell me about your earliest memory of her. And what she was wearing.

Pat:  Wow...that could nearly be a spitting image for Inge/Inga. That, or for one of the many many girls I remember fantasizing over noticing on the beaches of Lake Mälaren in Stockholm. Y’see...I was all of seven years old, and Sweden is a country where the women are HOT!!! strong and confident enough to sunbathe topless, even in the face of completely mesmerized interested and curious young visitors from foreign lands.

I think I could maybe be encouraged to travel to higher latitudes now.  

Christian: Yes it sounds like you might be cured now. However we still don’t know from what.

Perhaps you are afraid of beauty. Maybe you have been projecting your fear of beauty onto latitudes because of their association with all those sensual northern bound Swedish au pairs you saw as an impressionable youth. I guess that would mean you are also suppressing them while projecting them. Projeppressing them? Either way you’re doing something wacko with them.

Is it really beauty you fear?

Although, if so, how is it that you’re not afraid of me then? Weird.

Pat:  First off...duh! “Beauty” and “sui generis” are two COMPLETELY different things. Apples and oranges, buddy.

Secondly...duh! I can totally tell you what it is I’m afraid of--and by the way...NOW who’s losing their memory? Pretty sure I already explained this in one of the earlier posts (but please don’t go look, ‘cause I’m usually too lazy to go back and look--I just have a really good feeling about this one--and I HATE it when you prove me idiotic in public, and I REALLY hate it when you do it twice in the same post!), but it is the completely rational fear that as you move poleward you lose the balance and ability to stay fixed on the earth that comes with relative proximity to the equator, or its cousins the tropics.  Simply put...I’m afraid of either falling over or falling off, or worse yet, BOTH!

Christian: Yes but the question still remains as to why you are afraid of falling as you venture away from the equator. I still think it might have something to do with sexy Swedish au pairs. But I’m getting kind of sleepy so  it looks like our session is over for today. I’ll go do some more research on sexy Swedish au pairs and we’ll pick this up in our next session.