Yesterday afternoon in a suburb of Los Angeles, it was a rather nice day. It was a mild day, no higher than 75 with a clear blue sky and a soft breeze dancing through the trees. I had spent the better half of my morning listening to the incessant puppetry of Sesame Street and my son's innocent voice repeating "Melmo." Needless to say, I was in need of some other sort of connections.
The largest park in my small down has a large tree at its center, planted in 1910, which remains a central point of the community. Children gather and frolic atop its branches, jump down from its top, and couples gather beneath its grand shade to find the blissful quiet of each others arms; even if its just for a few moments. The tree to me is a symbol of welcome and of community: at any given time a family and their infant child of no more than 6 months could share the same space as a couple in their 90's . It holds the secret to longevity and long life. I have such respect for trees and their essence.
But this blog is not about the praise of the trees or nature, no. I am a people watcher. I took my 18 month old son to the park near this old tree. He is a huge fan of slides and swings. But, at 18 months, who isn't?! The first to approach us was a young girl, about 3, who had some difficulty speaking but once redirected could ask questions clearly. She told her name and asked what my son's name was. She was very interested in playing with him. She did not understand that he was still a baby even though he was about the same height as her. She seemed to wander about the playground and this 2.5 acre park without any parents. I was mildly concerned since this era is not the same as when I grew up: you can no longer let your kids stay out past dark, riding their bikes alone is dangerous, and even taking your eyes off your children for one second can be the difference between kidnapping or not. Predators lurk everywhere and a parent must be on their guard.
She was called by a pair of individuals lying on the grass together not paying her much attention: the woman was lying next to the man and was brushing his head while the man was curled up next to her. She soon found her way back to me as I sat on the park bench and was cheering my son on as he struggled up the stairs that made him look like a munchkin. She sat in silence next to me, just swaying her feet. I didn't feel the need to say anything, sensing that she just wanted a person to be next to her for a little while. She asked me my name and I responded. I asked her if she was with her mom and she said no. She said "my grandma yells at me a lot." And my heart sunk. I always wonder how these kids, the emotionally scarred ones, manage to find their way to the therapist at the park? I joke about having a sign that reads, "Therapist: Tell me your problems" on my forehead. But now I am wondering if G-d doesn't send out some sort of beacon signal for these people.
As I felt my heart sink, I repeated the phrase to her and she just said, "yes, she does it a lot. I don't think she likes me." I got the immediate sense that this little girl was emotionally neglected at home by both mom and dad and obviously by grandma. It broke my heart. She followed me as Ben fell off the slide and wanted to go onto the swing as a temporary distraction from his pain. As he got in, she too got in. The people who were with her got up and pushed her for a minute or two but she kept her eyes locked on me or my son. Her eyes held such pain. She very soon after left the park kicking and screaming after crying while reaching out to say goodbye to me and my son. I told her that maybe we'd see each other again, knowing that it was a white lie, hoping it would help her calm down.
I kept swinging and not soon after a handful of boys no older than 8 years old came to the park and all with their dads: 2 with one father, 1 with another, and 1 with another.
The oldest boy called him Joseph and he tried so desperately to have fun and make friends with the other kids on the playground, but he was rejected by them. He was a smart, imaginative boy who was not the typical goofball of the class, making him the "loser" of the group. His father was tucked into the back of the picnic area playing a video game on his cell phone. Each time his son tried to garner his attention, he received nothing. Even the velcro ball game they had brought was left unused. He began talking to me from a distance about how he wanted to ride the Tiger and wanted to know if it was okay if he could do that? I said of course and wondered what he was going to riding for and we began imaging together. He told me about a big trophy he'd win so his dad would be proud of him. I watched him ride an immovable tiger for about 1 minute and saw the glow of his face. As I commentated in my best "Chick Hearn" voice about the race and his win, he claimed his prize (which was invisible) and ran to his dad to show him. Sadly, dad didn't even look up. I told him he was the best tiger rider I'd ever seen.
The set of 2 boys were the rowdiest of the bunch: They called themselves Dylan and Ethan. They were the kids that caused trouble by breaking parts of the old tree off, kicking signs, kicking dirt, going up slides as people were coming down, etc. The sort of kids you purposefully avoid when you take your kids to the park and the kind you specifically bring mace for. While the kid were unruly, they did mind my small son which I appreciated. Their father, like the first one, was also tucked into the back of the picnic area. He was talking in the phone about his party plans for the night after his "bitch baby momma comes to pick up the boys." The boys were playing catch and wildly threw the ball into the playground and into the general sitting area. Dad didn't say much. When it was time for them to leave, he asked them to put the stuff away and gave them each 1 throw each. The kids were defiant and kept throwing until dad walked away out of the park and got into the car. The kids finally came and asked why they had to leave to which dad said, "Blame it on your mom."
The only father I was moderately impressed with was the last one. He and his son had a great bond. They played chase and had a friendly relationship. Of course, I wonder when "friendly parenting" goes too far and your children no longer see you as a disciplinarian. The son was having a good time, he seemed to have the least amount of concern for my son who was moving about a 4 foot area of the 30 foot playing area. He would climb up and around all swing his legs wherever he pleased, as his father encouraged him. It was then that I took my son off the play set and went to explore the tree and dogs nearby. It was not soon after that this father as well, sat down and took out his cell phone and was texting or doing something similar.
I am by no means perfect when it comes to the cell phone. Today at the zoo, I received 15 messages and 4 emails in the 3 hours I was there. I did look at them. The technological era, while great in so many ways, has also destroyed the relational parts of our lives. I remember when cell phones didn't exist, when cell phones were for emergencies only. I remember when the only phone that was answered during dinner was the home phone which had a chord attached to it and texting a friend during "family time" was unheard of. I remember when conversations were about the day, school, hopes and dreams, future travel plans, and desires were what life focused on. Now we publish every single piece of our life on the internet via Facebook, Pintrest, Twitter, Instagram, or other social media sources that it leaves very little to the imagination for our significant others. We live stream everything that we do, so what would we really have a conversation about anyways? Cell phones have killed the romance industry because of mobile access to porn and live streaming videos all over the internet. Men and women no longer care about the art of love or seduction, its about fuck and be done. It is a sad thought to know that a generation will grow up knowing nothing about how song, dance, music, culture, and fine dining is sensual without being sexual.
Technology has really destroyed the here and now of life. We're a society sad about the past and anxious about the future and too stupid to realize how amazing the present is because our faces our stuck in our cell phones or iPads, or whatever. If I had brought my cell phone that day, I would have missed my son's excitement at going down the slide and his fear at going down a new slide. I would have missed his feelings of accomplishment when he did go down the new slide and his joy when he repeatedly wanted to go down. I would have missed his ability to communicate by saying "Swing" or "Slide" or "Down." I would have missed the nervousness he displayed when greeting a new dog and also his boredom with a giant tree. I would have missed the sad little girl who was looking for a moment of loving attention. I would have failed to notice the already unnoticed little boy with the creative mind who just wanted to be know he mattered. And I am not sure I am willing to miss those kinds of things...
What are you willing to miss?
