Thursday, June 25, 2009
Tuned in to the teen years
John Long
Recent columns
From the RoundTable blog
Teenagers, it's been said, are more like they are today than ever before. Whatever that means. I spent Father's Day ruminating on what I've learned being dad to two teenage girls.
Don't get me wrong; our girls are great kids and I'm having a ball watching them grow up. But you have to laugh at some of the foibles of teenagers. My paternal observations:
n Parents, I've discovered, are superheroes. Our super ability is the power to embarrass, and no kryptonite can deter us. The most mundane activities -- using windshield wipers, buying frozen vegetables -- can paralyze an unsuspecting teenager with mortification.
n Go ahead and get the unlimited texting plan. Does anyone under 30 actually talk on a cellphone anymore?
n The preparation of the hair of the adolescent female is an activity that expands to fit the time allotted. If she has four hours to do her hair, it will take four hours and 10 minutes. If she only has five minutes, she'll somehow get it done in six. It looks the same either way (beautiful).
n Speaking of hair care, though it seems counterintuitive to me, it is possible -- nay, it is mandatory -- to use both a curling iron and a hair straightener on the same operation.
n I've heard it said that chocolate has an expiration date. No Hershey product will ever experience such a phenomenon in my house. Certain other commodities will always be in short supply: clean towels, hot water, toilet paper, bandwidth and salsa come to mind.
n A teenager's social life is calculated according to the equation P=CT. Loosely translated, this means parent equals chauffeur minus the tip. Though if I happen to be driving my beat-up old truck, refer to the superpower of embarrassment above.
n Much can be communicated, little of it good, by the rolling of the eyes.
n The Internet is lifeblood. Texting is the very oxygen of survival. Cellphones and iPods are external organs necessary for continued existence. (They are also color-coordinated fashion accessories.) Facebook must be checked before breakfast. You must sleep with your cellphone lest you miss a friend's missive.
That level of connectedness escapes me. If someone ever woke me up at three in the morning to ask "What RU doing?" my answer would not be polite.
n A girl who will wander for hours in a mall has to get me to walk 10 feet out to the driveway and get her book out of the van. And I do it. I pretty much do everything they tell me. As I walk out the door, my wife waves her little finger at me. It's her signal to indicate that around which I am wrapped.
n It is possible for a 15-year-old today to confuse Bruce Springsteen with Barry Manilow. And to feel no regret for the error. But if I fail to recognize someone named Hawk Nelson from a tinny ringtone, I am the epitome of lameness. Not that I feel bad about it. I'll feel bad if my girls ever lose a "who has the lamest parent" contest.
n Fairness is defined by a teenager's self-interest. Thus, the ubiquitous cry "That is so not fair!" amounts to "I didn't get my way!"
n Adolescence is its own time zone. Such clearly comprehensible commands as "Get up early; go to bed at a reasonable hour; do the dishes now; take a short shower" assume unrecognizable dimensions in the teenage time warp.
n One sister does all of the work around the house. The other sister does nothing worth mentioning. Either sister will argue ad infinitum that she is the first one. Both are closer to the second most days.
n No guy will ever be good enough for your girls. But if you train them right, let them know that they are precious in your eyes and in the eyes of their Creator, I'll bet they choose pretty wisely.
The teen years might seem an eternity, but they are over far too quickly. With a keen eye for irony, I intend to enjoy every minute of them. And I hope I live long enough to see my girls raising their own teenagers. How sweet will it be someday to hear them declare with exasperation, "Don't you take that tone of voice with me, young lady!"
Long, director of the Salem Museum and a history teacher at Roanoke College, is a Roanoke Times columnist.
