We spent time with Jeremy and Jennifer last night for the first time in a month. I seized the opportunity to corrupt their children. Harrison (6), finished his second piano class at Harmony Road Music, so Kris and I took off a little early from work to see him perform. He did a great job with his two piano solos.
"Can I ride home with J.D.?" Harrison asked afterward.
"Sure," I said. I leaned close him and whispered, "If you want, we can stop at the comic book store."
As we drove to the comic book store, we chatted about important things. Harrison informed me that Kris is a good guy, and that she helps put bad guys in jail. We talked about Rosemary, his new cat. "See that spot over there?" I asked. "A couple weeks ago I saw a cat and a rabbit sitting side-by-side there."
"Were they friends?" asked Harrison.
"Maybe they were. Who can tell? Maybe they couldn't talk to each other. Do you think animals can talk?"
Harrison thought about it for a while. "Yes, animals can talk. I saw a parrot once that could talk."
"Do you think they only speak English, or do you think they have animal languages?"
He thought some more. "I think they have animal languages," he said. "Only we can't understand them." Harrison began to laugh. "Look at that crow. Boy is he funny. He's trying to lift that bag. It's too heavy!" Ha ha ha. Six-year-old boys are easily amused.
"He's trying to get dinner," I said. "Crows are really smart. They're one of the smartest animals."
"What other animals are smart?" he asked.
"Well, crows are smart. Pigs are smart. Dolphins are smart. Orangutans are smart. Do you know what an orangutan is?"
"It's a monkey."
"Well, it's not really a monkey. It's a great ape. Apes and monkeys are different. They're similar, and they look the same, but they're different like, well, like..."
"Like cats and tigers?" asked Harrison. We had talked about cats and tigers earlier.
"Exactly!" I said. "Like cats and tigers. Apes and orangutans and humans are all closely related, and monkeys are a little different."
"Humans?" he asked, and then I realized I'd stuck my foot in it. I was deciding how best to explain the concepts of evolution and natural selection to a kindergartner when we arrived at the comic book store.
Harrison looked at all the posters outside the store. He spotted Spider-Man and Star Wars, and he even new the Simpsons. "Look at all the comic books," I told him, trying to imagine the store from the view of a child. Shelves of comic books towered above us. Boxes of toys were stacked all around, just at kid eye-level. There cards and posters and t-shirts everywhere.
"Look!" Hank exclaimed. "Han Solo!" He ran over to a $200 bust of his hero. "And Chewbacca!" I tried to steer his attention to the Spider-Man comics and to the Superman action figures, but he was more intrigued by all the Star Wars stuff. "That's R2-D2," he said, pointing to a large C-3PO doll.
We looked through several comics targeted at kids (they contain minimal violence and they're written with simpler language.) Harrison liked a small Fantastic Four compilation, so I bought it for him and we headed home. He surprised me by reading aloud (slowly, it's true) during the trip. He spelled out some words ("r-o-u-g-h-l-y") so that I could translate, and he asked for definitions on others ("supreme"). He asked about all the different characters and their powers and whether they were good guys or bad guys.
It was warm and sunny when we got home, so Hank spent some time outside. First, he spent time smashing chestnuts with a hammer. "Do you have other things you need smashed?" he asked, eager to please. I did not.
However, I showed him how to use my weedpopper to pull weeds. He loved it. "Isn't this better than using chemicals?" I asked him.
"Why?" he said.
"Chemicals are poisonous," I said, watching him pop one dandelion after the other. I was calculating how long it would take him to clear the entire dandelion patch out by the road. "Chemicals are bad for you. It's best to not use them unless you really need to." I smirked at my environmentalist agenda.
Later in the evening, Harrison and Emma and I laid around the library, draped on the furniture. We talked about comic books and cats and grandparents. Emma played with my William Shakespeare action figure. I tried to explain who Shakespeare was, and how long ago he lived.
Harrison brightened. "Tell us a When the World Was Young story."
"Once, when the world was young," I said, "Jeff and Tony and I went for a walk down to the creek. Normally, the creek was very low. You could climb down the bank and wade across it. For some reason, this time the creek was very high. It was very deep."
"Maybe it had just rained," said Emma.
"Maybe it had just rained. The water was deep and muddy and the current was faster than normal. By the side of the creek, there was a small rowboat that had never been there before. Jeff climbed into the boat. I went to climb into the boat, but I slipped, and I fell into the water. My head sank beneath the surface and I was really very scared. I thought I would drown, but Jeff grabbed my arm and he pulled me back into the boat. I felt lucky."
"How old were you?" asked Emma.
"I don't know. Maybe I was nine. Jeff would have been seven and Tony five. Now why don't you tell a When the World Was Young story."
Harrison thought and thought, but couldn't remember one to tell. Emma, who is nearly five, said she remembered one: "When I was young, and I was three, I watched a movie."
"Was it a grown-up movie?" asked Harrison.
"No. It was a movie about animals," she said. "I can't really remember because I was just a baby."
I laughed. "You guys are silly. I can't believe you don't remember any stories from when you were young. I remember stories from when you were young. Here's one: Once, when the world was young, Harrison and Emma went to the zoo with their mommy and J.D. and Kris. While we were eating lunch, Harrison spilled his hot chocolate all over Emma. Emma cried, but all Harrison could say was, 'You can get me another hot chocolate.'"
Hank and Scout laughed.
"Then, after we had looked at all the animals, we stopped to get more food. Harrison got another hot chocolate. And do you know what happened? Harrison spilled that hot chocolate, too! Can you believe it? Do you know what else happened that day, Emma? I bought you your first Barbie. Do you remember?"
She didn't remember. Her face was a cloud of hazy memories. It's probably just as well. (In retrospect, I'm not proud to have bought Emma's first Barbie.)
Harrison began to fiddle with the old telephone. It's a 1940s-era rotary dial model, very heavy, and fun to play with. "Can I press one number?" Harrison asked, his finger in the dial.
"Not zero," I said.
"Why?"
"Because zero dials the operator."
"What's an operator?"
I don't know whether this was another generation gap (because operators are no longer an important part of telephony), or whether Harrison just hadn't been exposed to them yet. I tend to believe the former; I knew about operators when I was his age.
"Let's calls somebody," I said. "Should we call Ian and Tristan?"
"YES!" the kids said.
"Now, Harrison, be sure to say who you are when Kristin or Roger answers," I instructed as I dialed the phone number. I know from experience that Harrison has a bad habit of just starting to talk when somebody answers the phone. I've hung up on him myself, not knowing who was calling. Or, worse, he does things like:
"Hello, who is this?" Harrison said. "Who? This is Harrison." — but it sounded like Hessun — "Hello? Hello? I guess they hung up."
I dialed again, and this time Harrsion was better about explaining who he was. "Is Ian there?" he said. "Hi, Ian. It's Hessun. Whatcha doing?" Ian was playing with a new toy, a solar-powered car, and Hank had lots of questions for him.
Emma was impatient. "It's my turn. I want to talk to Tristan." Their conversation was less animated. "Hello? Hello? I don't think anyone's there," Emma said, frowning. But Tristan was still on the line. I showed Emma how she should hold the phone to her ear, not her mouth. (It was too big for her to do both.) A couple more minutes of "Hello? Hello?" and the conversation was over.
Too soon, my little friends took off with their parents. I guess I'll have ample opportunity to corrupt them later. For now, my mind can rest easy that I'm well on my way to success:
On this day at foldedspace.org
2004 — Curb Your Enthusiasm We've been watching the second season of Larry David's Curb Your Enthusiasm. Also, I've purchased a new lawnmower.
2003 — Contentment In which I have my best weekend since knee surgery: I read Harry Potter, I go to a wedding, I carouse with friends, I clean the house, and I read Edward Abbey. Amen.
I knew there was a story behind the mysterious phone call from Hessun. Ian actually answered the phone the first time but hung up after saying (rudely, I thought), "Who IS this?" "I don't know who it was--it was no one--all I heard was this (indescribable unintelligible noises)." Roger checked the caller ID and noted "John Roth and Kris." "It's JD and Kris," I said. Soon the phone rang again and was handed to me--apparently Ian and Roger were frightened :) Harrison immediately identified himself and asked for Ian. "I want to talk, I want to talk," whined Tristan. Eventually he got his turn, but in true Tristan fashion he turned down the customarily loud T volume to a barely audible whisper and made scant contribution to whatever conversation was occurring. Of note, he took the phone to his bedroom for some privacy. Tristan's near-silence combined with Emma's ear-piece challenges were quite a match! Thanks for the rest of the story.