One day when I was a pre-adolescent, a young mother and child paraded through our school escorted by the principal. The child was pre-school age, yet dressed better than the rest of us. He was also better behaved.

So, the principal sits this boy down in front of our high-performance class and begins to read off his accomplishments: something like he spoke five languages, had mastered Newtonian physics, and read James Joyce for fun. The whole room sat in silent awe. We were clearly not worthy. He mostly stared at his mother and paid little attention to anything around him. In retrospect, he probably wanted to have a snack and to go home. In conclusion, the principal led her two companions to the front door of the school and bid them farewell. Neither had articulated a single word, neither was seen again, and the incident was not spoken of again.

I cannot imagine what the principal hoped to accomplish by this dog-and-pony show, probably a misguided effort to lure the child into attending the school.

While I help my son with his homework, occasionally I remember that child in front of my middle-school class. I have to overcome the knee-jerk reaction which says similar phantoms are my boy’s competition for a quality future (you know: the good school, the good job, the good life). The daily repetition of parenting does not lend itself to maintaining a reasonable perspective. The pull of the elite education leading to entry into the imagined stratosphere leads to odd choices — even the little decisions that don’t seem like decisions and suddenly make this math problem in front of us more important than food or happiness or a life well-lived.

January, 2006

Deep in the remote history of this planet where we keep all our stuff, a young librarian named Hunh sat on a small rock behind a big rock piled high with stone tablets. Under the hot summer sun (between endless ice ages filled with school and more school), cave-lings scampered thither and yon, raving like yet another generation of Neanderthals. Occasionally, the wee ones would collapse from exhaustion and whine, “Ugga mugga bugga boo” (“There’s nothing to do”).

Cave-parents looked to the helpful Hunh, who would wedge a stone tome from the pile and lob it heavily in their general direction. More often than not, the tablet shattered, leading to the invention of marbles. Yet one day, miraculously, the tablet remained whole. A tired cave-let examined the flat rock closely. “Hey, there’s words on here!” And so the library summer reading program was born.

In its 50,000th year (give or take a millennium), the New York State Summer Reading Program’s theme is Books: a Treasure! Generally speaking, children sign up at local libraries and receive prizes for reading over the summer. Libraries across the area are getting into the spirit with a wide variety of activities and displays.

Highland has a magnificent pirate ship filling the children’s area. Gates has “A Pirate’s Life for Me!” on Thursday, July 20 (Ages 5-10). Pittsford has a hidden pirate alcove. Maplewood is letting children make a treasure chest on Wednesday, July 26. The list truly goes on and on and on with every library filled with buried treasure and every librarian sharing a weensy bit of the little pirate-bouncing-on-the-plank of their heart.

The website for the State Reading Program is www.summerreadingnys.org. The Monroe County Library System provides links to local event calendars at www.libraweb.org.

July, 2006

“You are a menace. A walking pestilence.”

Here at the Family Valued pixel playhouse and pastel pressroom, we are interested in anything that furthers socializing. Toward that end, we are experimenting with exposing small groups to dinner and a movie. Ideally, the movie is something no one in attendance has seen in a long time. The food should lend itself to a lack of utensils.

Our first victim was the original Planet of the Apes because it was rated G and was sitting on the library shelf. Two of the adult males had fond memories of the film (though it inspired eye-rolling “oh yeahs” from the rest of the adults).

The movie starts more slowly than we remembered; network television probably edited out the seemingly endless walk through the desert which occupies the first third of the film. On the other hand, all you Planet of the Apes buffs can only imagine how grateful we were that the protagonists did not forget the TX-9.

I did notice fewer forays for food once the apes appeared. One adult began muttering, “This is so weird,” which seemed remarkably apropos. We’d all forgotten that Rod Serling was involved in writing the film and were impressed by the heavy amounts of philosophy mixed in with the action. Much to our surprise, we ended up discussing the appropriate places of religion and science in society. Who knew that heavy rubber masks could spark such thoughts?

I can’t imagine how it received a G rating; one character is shot and killed on screen, another is shot in the neck, prisoners are beaten, and the results of a lobotomy are shown. That being said, the film’s violence had nothing on Harry Potter or most current pre-adolescent fodder. Lastly, the DVD cover reveals the film’s final surprise, so hide it from anyone who doesn’t know.

March, 2006