Baby’s First Poetry

Content: Robert Frost

Introduction: I love Robert Frost. He is not from New Hampshire, but he is of New Hampshire. Had he written in a 24-hour news world, he would be to the Granite State what Ben and Jerry are to the Green Mountain State. For example, his poem New Hampshire is a both a rambling rumination on frugal bucolic living and a parody of New Hampshire’s flinty reputation.

Dream’s Age at Introduction: Pre-natal

Reason for That Age: Alicia and I have made a big deal about reading to Dream right away. Basically, as soon as all the books said the baby could hear, we started reading to her stomach. And the first thing we read to Dream was The Last Word of a Bluebird by Frost. If Mozart and Beethoven are good in utero, I don’t see why Robert Frost isn’t as well.

What I Want Dream to Get Out of It: My expectations are pretty low. Let’s be honest, parents read to their kids pre-natally more for themselves than for their kids. Alicia and I are the same way. But I guess I’d like Dream – at some point, in the somewhat distant future – to read Frost’s poetry and connect to it in a way that he or she doesn’t understand, or even think to understand. It’ll be just another part of Dream’s subconscious.

Be content,
John

Literature Begins Where the Sidewalk Ends

Content: Shel Silverstein

Introduction: Few people actually realize the breadth of Shel Silverstein’s work. He’s primarily remembered for his children’s books like Where the Sidewalk Ends, The Giving Tree, and A Light in the Attic. But his cartoons appeared in Pacific Stars and Stripes while he was in the military, and Playboy published his cartoons for almost 20 years. Do you remember Johnny Cash’s A Boy Named Sue? Shel wrote it. And for those of you who love Newfoundland sea shanties – don’t laugh, I do – Shel also wrote the words that became Great Big Sea’s The Mermaid. So an introduction to Shel Silverstein is really an introduction to poetry, intelligent cartoons, country music, and Newfoundland sea shanties. The sooner the better.

Dream’s Age at Introduction: 5

Reason for That Age: Some might introduce their kids to Silverstein at a younger age, and I have no problems with that. But I think that some of the poems are more appropriate for kids that have a little school experience. And the bittersweet story of The Giving Tree is actually a really sad story. Dream will have lots of questions about it – Why doesn’t the boy feel bad about the tree? Why doesn’t the tree do something about the boy? – and I want him or her to be old enough to appreciate my answer: “Shut up, I’m reading.” (Just kidding.)

What I Want Dream to Get Out of It: Ideally, Dream should find the poems silly and laughable. He or she should laugh at them and want me or Alicia to read them over and over again. After hearing The Giving Tree, I hope Dream will think about sacrifice and the people he or she cares about. I also want this to be one of Dream’s many early positive experiences with poetry.

Be content,
John

Introduction to Stand Up Comedy Part VII: Stand Up Comedy as Social Commentary

Content: Dennis Leary’s and Chris Rock’s stand up, particularly Leary’s No Cure for Cancer and Rock’s Bring the Pain

Introduction: A professor in college noted the role of oral historians and poets, like Homer and Samuel Johnson, in early civilizations as askers of difficult questions who brought attention to the weaknesses of their societies. He lamented their absence today and asked somewhat rhetorically, “Who do we have that serves that role?” I say “somewhat rhetorically” when it reality it was “almost entirely rhetorically,” as he completely ignored my answer that stand up comics do that today. It’s a shame he ignored this idea because I was right on. And it was albums like No Cure for Cancer and Bring the Pain that convinced me of this.

Dream’s Age at Introduction: 14

Reason for That Age: I discovered No Cure for Cancer when I was around 14, and Leary’s critique of our culture’s hypocrisy surrounding drugs, smoking, and mental health connected with me. I loved the songs, the stand up, everything. Admittedly, the album has not aged as well as some of the other materials I’ve listed in this series, but Leary’s raw frustration remains palpable such that the album is still quite funny. I like to think that in order to maintain that level of rage throughout the album, Leary had to channel Bill Hicks’ outrage at Dennis Leary getting famous doing Bill Hicks’ routine.

Rock’s Bring the Pain didn’t air on HBO until 1996, well after my 14th birthday. But had it existed when I was 14, I would have listened it to until the laser of my stereo cut a groove in the CD. It would have been up there with Emo for me. His rants about white racism, black racism, and the self-indulgence of American wealth were scathing, hysterical and intelligent. Obviously, his observations about racism are the best known riffs from the routine, but his ridicule of Americans who take their wealth for granted are just as biting. For example: “People are starving all over the world, what do you mean ‘red meat will kill you’? Don’t eat no red meat? No, don’t eat no green meat… if you’re one of the chosen few people in the world lucky enough to get your hands on a steak, bite the shit out of it!” That still rings true today. At age 14, Dream is the perfect age to learn about the glorious contradiction of difficult social criticism and tear-inducing laughter.

What I Want Dream to Get Out of It: As with a lot of things, I want Dream to think. After he or she stops laughing and wipes the tears away, I want Dream to say “That’s a great point, I never thought of it that way. Maybe I should think more about that problem, and maybe I should find other comedians who make me think while laughing." That last bit is important. By the age of 14, Dream will be beyond the point of wanting me as a content guide. So I want Rock and Leary to point the way to Dream discovering thoughtful comedians on his or her own.

Be content,
John

Introduction to Stand Up Comedy Part VI: Emo Philips, the Most Important Adult I Never Met

Content: Emo Philips

Introduction: As a kid, no adult (but for the ones I knew personally) had a greater impact on me than Emo Philips. This likely says more about me than any Rorschach test ever could, but Emo changed my world when I was in middle school. He was ridiculous, surreal, clever, smart, and hysterical. His humor relied on incredibly witty wordplay, but it also made references to history and literature that bespoke a well-read mind. You had to be smart to get him. And he is a master surrealist. Consider this classic song line – “I was walking down the street / Something caught my eye / And dragged it 15 feet.” Brilliant. I can’t adequately express my love and adoration for Emo… a statement that led to some confused conversations in college when whiny pop rockers became popular. Nonetheless, I want Dream’s first exposure to Emo to be memorable. Special. I might take him or her out of school that day so we can share it together.

Dream’s Age at Introduction: 13

Reason for That Age: I first encountered Emo when I was 14, but I think I could have handled him a year earlier, and it would have been just as meaningful. It’s a funny thing about teenagers. It’s something about their stage of development. Things they love at that point in their lives matter more than they should. Teenagers latch onto things at that age in a way they never will again. We all did it. For most guys, it ends up being sports. That’s why teenage guys take sports losses so hard. It’s also why teenage girls support successive generations of teeny-bopper musicians (e.g., Leif Garrett, Menudo, New Kids on the Block, N*Sync, Justin Bieber, Random 15-Year old Circa 2015, etc.). These things matter too much to us and leave a lasting – some might say scarring – impression. Dream will be most likely to appreciate Emo the way I do if introduced to him at this age.

What I Want Dream to Get Out of It: Ideally, I want Dream to have the same adoration for Emo that I do. But that’s probably not healthy, for neither Dream in general nor my marriage in particular. When I expressed my idea to take Dream out of school to have a special Emo day, Alicia said “I’m going to go to bed to forget that you said that.” So perhaps a more realistic hope is that Dream listens to Emo and thinks he’s funny. I can live with that.

Be content,
John

Introduction to Stand Up Comedy Part V: Rigid, Fist Up, Atkinson

Content: Rowan Atkinson, particularly his one-man skits and Mr. Bean

Introduction: Atkinson is closer to Abbott and Costello than Cosby and Martin. He’s more of a solo performer than a stand up comic, which in some ways is a distinction of semantics. Although Atkinson is best known for Mr. Bean and Blackadder, I prefer his one-man work. His scenes involving the devil, private school fatal beatings, and the “Amazing Jesus” are spectacularly well written. He exemplifies a well-scripted comic, whether in a silent or spoken piece.

Dream’s Age at Introduction: 12

Reason for That Age: Mr. Bean might work at a younger age. He’s daft and silly, with little objectionable material. Who doesn’t like some guy wearing a turkey on his head? But Atkinson works on a higher level. He is a smart, carefully planned performer. Do you have any idea how hard it is to be as physically awkward as Mr. Bean is on command? As someone who is almost socially dysfunctional in his awkwardness, I wish it could be turned on and off as easily as Atkinson makes it appear. His physical comedy is brilliant. Dream will find that funny earlier than 12, but I want him or her to really appreciate it, not just think it’s silly. On top of that, the monologues in Atkinson’s skits have some pretty clever word play that Dream will need to be out of elementary school to appreciate. For example, Dream will definitely need to be in middle school to appreciate the delightfully smutty language in “No One Called Jones.” (And as I’m reviewing this scene, 12 might be a year or two too young, but I’ll stick with it for now.)

What I Want Dream to Get Out of It: Strangely, this is the first lesson from Dream’s introduction to stand up comedy that doesn’t really have the potential for quotable catch phrases. Dream may pick up on some great lines (my personal favorite is “I wondered then as I wonder now if he might not have turned out to be a very different boy indeed if you had administered a few fatal beatings.”), but nothing that he or she will repeat like “Excuse me!” or “Riiiiight.” Rather, I’d like Dream to get a better understanding of physical comedy as well as exposure to some clever language that seems a lot dirtier than it actually is. But really – more than anything else – it’s important that Dream realize a universal truth of American comedy: British equals funny.

Be content,
John

Introduction to Stand Up Comedy Part IV – Wild and Crazy Comedy for a 10-Year Old

Content: Steve Martin’s stand up comedy, particularly the “Excuse Me” track from Let’s Get Small, “King Tut” from A Wild and Crazy Guy, and his “Great Fly-tini” bit from one of Johnny Carson’s last episodes.

Introduction: Steve Martin was a frenetic force pf surreal nature in the late 1970s. His albums missed the visual cues of his stand up, but the Johnny Carson appearance – which featured him doing cool tricks from the fly of his pants – makes up for some of that. He was so bizarrely clever. Kids, who have such weird little minds, should love it.

Dream’s Age at Introduction: 10…

Reason for That Age: … but I reserve the same right of review that I set aside for Bill Cosby’s material. I remember Martin’s material as oddball and harmless. His stand up autobiography, Born Standing Up, reinforces this, waxing nostalgic about his time developing goofy and intentionally flawed magic tricks at Disney Land and Knott’s Berry Farm. And his routines are silly, but only to an adult audience. A ten-year old hearing the “Let’s Get Small” track might actually think there are drugs that turn you small, and maybe he or she should drop some acid to get small. Sounds ridiculous, I know, but I recall a movie explaining that “Kids know dick.” Anyway, some material is probably not great for ten- year olds. But King Tut will slay them, particularly when I find a Hulu clip of Martin’s Saturday Night Live rendition (or whatever internetish video implement is available in 10+ years). And “Excuse Me” will leave 10-year old Dream saying “Excuse me!” ad nauseum and laughing for days, while Alicia rolls her eyes and glares at me. This is going to be beautiful.

What I Want Dream to Get Out of It: Three things. First, the adoption of “Excuse me!” as a personal catch phrase for at least a week, and the inevitable looks of exasperation from my beloved wife. Second, singing along with “King Tut.” Fantastic. And third, a nascent appreciation for the absurd. Steve Martin’s stand up should be the first in a long line of absurdist content – including Waiting for Godot, Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead, Andy Warhol, and Kafka – that Dream will come to love.

Be content,
John

Introduction to Stand Up Comedy Part III – Cosby Is Funny… Right

Content: Bill Cosby’s Stand Up, particularly Himself and Bill Cosby is a Very Funny Fellow… Right!

Introduction: Bill Cosby’s Himself album was one of the first stand up recordings that I owned. It’s not brilliant satire or biting social critique, but it’s very funny. I still use elements of “Chocolate Cake for Breakfast” and “Natural Childbirth” in daily riffing.

Dream’s Age at Introduction: 8…

Reason for That Age: …although after reviewing some of the material in the two albums above, I might have to rethink age 8, or at least select particular tracks to give to Dream. Some of the material an 8-year old would love. “Chocolate Cake for Breakfast” is great for kids of all ages. What child wouldn’t laugh at kids eating cake for breakfast and their dad getting in trouble for it? I don’t know how Dreamworks hasn’t turned that concept into an hour and a half 3-D animated movie yet. Additionally, the Noah bits from Bill Cosby is a Very Funny Fellow… Right! are iconic and great for any kid with a passing familiarity with that biblical story. However, “Natural Childbirth” is almost certainly too mature. As I wrote above – some selective editing is in order. But much of the material is perfect for an 8-year old.

What I Want Dream to Get Out of It: I want Dream to be balled up in giggling fits listening to Cosby exclaim “My children TURNED on me!” I want him or her to repeat “Right…” over and over again trying to imitate Cosby’s intonation. I want Dream to repeat some of this material to his or her friends. Most importantly, I want Dream to be convinced that he or she is funny too, thinking “Cosby is funny just by talking and telling stories. I can talk and tell stories…”

Be content,
John

Introduction to Stand Up Comedy Part II - “Who’s on First” as Baby’s First Stand Up

Content: Abbot and Costello’s “Who’s on First?” Routine

Introduction: This is not stand up comedy as we experience it today, i.e, one individual on stage, telling stories and making observations. However, Abbot and Costello’s classic vaudeville routine is a great introduction of spoken word comedic performances to kids.

Dream’s Age at Introduction: 7

Reason for That Age: The subject matter – baseball – is appropriate for almost every age. Plus, knowing my wife, Dream is going to be fully indoctrinated into the Red Sox LONG before the age of 7. The simple word play that is at the heart of the routine is easily understandable to kids, and all of the old recordings include crowds roaring with laughter, nudging little listeners in the right direction: “Laugh here. It’s funny now.”

What I Want Dream to Get Out of It: Ideally, Dream should want to listen to this multiple times. That’s how I was with my favorite stand up routines. I listened to Emo dozens of times in middle school. But even if that doesn’t happen, I want Dream to be prepped for further lessons in stand up. And to be aware that whether s/he wants them or not, more stand up sessions are coming from Dad.

Be content,
John

Reformatting

I’ve been having a bit of a hard time finding time to write in this space. Something about its open-ended nature has caused me to write at great length and without form, making it intimidating to sit down and start an entry without at least an hour to really work. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I think I could benefit by an established format. Plus, years from now, I will enjoy this journal more if it has a clear structure.

So starting with my next posts (the ones about stand up comedy), the entries will be written following this guide:

Content: The title or subject of the media
Introduction: Why I love or care about the content
Dream’s Age at Introduction: Dream’s age at introduction (kinda self-explanatory)
Reason for That Age: Explanation of why Dream should experience the content at that age in his or her life
What I Want Dream to Get Out of It: Dad’s obnoxious life lesson, that will be drilled in my offspring like the bit from an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico (that is, with great determination but not necessarily the intended outcome).

Be content,
John

Introduction to Stand Up Comedy, Part I

The New York Times today had a review of Sarah Silverman’s new memoir, The Bedwetter. In the book, Silverman relates her experience growing up (in New Hampshire!) as a bedwetter and how her embarrassment contributed to her work as a comedian. Dave Itzkoff, the author of the Times piece, does a nice job of drawing out the connection between personal scars and effective stand up comedy. In describing Silverman, Itzkoff summarizes the formative experiences of some of the best comedians of the last fifty years: by taking ownership of their emotional baggage they become unafraid on stage. Among the comedians that fit this description are Jerry Lewis, Lenny Bruce, Richard Pryor, George Carlin, Sam Kinnison, Bill Hicks d/b/a Dennis Leary, and Mitch Hedburg.

I love stand up comedy. My hero growing up was Emo Philips, who I continue to quote shamelessly (which, for my purposes, means without citation). At its best, stand up comedy makes us uncomfortable while making us laugh. It’s an art form, no less than oil painting, ballet, or jazz. However, because of its low-end practitioners – knock-knock joking hucksters sweating through bad suits in front of fake brick walls – stand up comedy frequently has a reputation somewhere between local television meteorologists and Kiwanis club guest speakers.

And to be fair, bad stand up comedians warrant that reputation. But good stand up comedians are clever, witty, and socially relevant. Emo Philips was able to merge word play with sly racial commentary: “We had a black out in my old neighborhood the other night. But the police made him get back into his car and go home.” Similarly, Mitch Hedburg – in a prescient and sad irony - combined clever one-liners with references to his drug use: “I love the FedEx guy because he’s my drug dealer and he doesn’t even know it.” And if pressed, I could come up with a hundred other examples: Steve Martin and King Tut, George Carlin and the Seven Words You Can’t Say on TV, Dennis Leary a/k/a Bill Hicks’ re-animated corpse and smoking, etc.

But when to introduce all this to Dream Weaver? It’s not like I can sit down 5-year old Dream with a DVD of Richard Pryor and say “This might be over your head now, but you’ll appreciate it when you’re thirty.”

However, this is important to me. I want our kid to appreciate the kind of laughter that comes from the biting observations and social discomfort of good stand up. My solution is to introduce Dream gradually to stand up, starting with clever, historically relevant stand up that – by today’s standards – is benign. It’s sort of like a sliding scale of age appropriate stand up comedy. Below is the list I’ve been working on:

Age Comedian

7 Abbott and Costello
8 Bill Cosby
10 Steve Martin
12 Rowan Atkinson
13 Emo Philips
14 Dennis Leary and Chris Rock

In upcoming posts, I’ll go through a quick analysis of each comedian. This excites me to a ridiculous extent. I’m actually a little embarrassed by it. If there’s a group of stand-up geeks, I would like to enlist. Call me.

Be content,
John