The Chris Moeller Archives

Other people's children

Saturday night was a rather miserable night at Kauffman Stadium in Kansas City-- high temperatures with humidity, a setting sun that partially concealed the playing field from my seat for the first four innings, my missing the Cardinals/Cubs game on television earlier in the day, and then a blow-out win by Toronto. With no pennant race in the ballgame to hold my attention, I instead watched a rather dramatic story unfold in the row of seats in front of me.

A couple of 30-something-aged brothers were at the game with a group of kids. One of the brothers was the father to some or all of the kids. The two men proceeded to properly get themselves buzzed on Miller Lite, while the kids raced up and down the aisle and occasionally up the steps. Several innings into the game, the only girl among the children raced to her father, crying hysterically. Probably just six or seven years old, her earring had somehow been pulled from her ear.
She climbed into her Dad's lap, and then, along with the rest of us in Section 130, quickly found him to be no help at all. He kept telling her to move her hand so he could look at it. She would scream. And he would scream back, ordering her to stop crying, and exciting her all the more. He was clearly not an everyday person in this little girl's life, and now found himself in over his head and growing embarassed by the public attention.

Anyway, a 40-something woman sitting two seats to my left was ready to go. She had a calm demeanor, a smile for the little girl, and she basically jumped into the fray and told this guy what to do, where to go in the stadium, and what to ask for. Rather reluctantly, it seemed, the guy got up and took his daughter out to the concourse. When the two returned an inning or two later, the girl held a giant icepack to her ear and a cup of ice cream in her other hand.
But the woman in my row wasn't done. She told the guy what salve to look for at the drug store, and advised that the girl should wear larger earrings, which are evidently much less susceptible to potential strain on the ear. (I may have heard this backwards. It's best to contact the Surgeon General.) He listened politely, and they chatted amiably, but it became clear in short time that he was done listening before she was done talking.

This woman had really impressed me, but I wondered what would have happened had she not been there. Would I have done something? I've never been a parent (that I know of! Am I right, fellas?) All I know about parenting is that it's like cupping a bird in your hands--- squeeze too tight and you kill it, squeeze too little and it flies away. (This is actually what Tommy Lasorda said about managing a baseball team, but I believe it also applies to parenting.)

I thought about a story I heard actress Laura Dern tell years ago on Bill Maher's show, "Politically Incorrect." She had seen a woman slapping a child in the supermarket, and went up and scolded the mother, loudly and quite publicly. The two situations are somewhat different. Nevertheless, the question of the day is this-- where is the line between looking out for the well-being of another person's child and butting the hell out?

If "Do the Right Thing" and popular black comedians are to be trusted, it's the presiding belief in African-American communities that outsiders best mind their own business. I wince when I hear even a liberal like Chris Rock do his routine about whooping kids and keeping them in line. Call me a white Northern liberal-- and I am, but I think I come down closer to the Laura Dern approach. Heaven knows we already have an established social ethic that parents do not have total autonomy over their children. If they did, we would have little use for the Department of Social Services. You're teaching this child the lesson that violence and intimidation solve problems, when in fact all they do is foster bullying. When you see children already out of control, frustration may lead one to believe that "the rod" has to come out, but at this point the cattle are already out of the barn. This child has already learned how to test his parent's boundaries, when it should be the other way around, and he or she is already anxiously crossing off the days until that parent is no longer physically stronger. And then what's the parent to do?

The situation at the ballpark probably didn't rise to anybody's level of abuse, but it's a jumping-off point for the discussion. If you believe, as I do-- and as Republi-crat Hillary Clinton does-- that "the village raises the child," then when and where do you step in? And if you're like me and you're beginning to crystallize in your mind where that line is, then the question becomes-- will I have the courage to act upon that moral compass?

---

The independent film, "The Aristocrats," arrives in New York and Los Angeles theaters this week, as we briefly discussed July 13th. Here's a link to the review in New York Magazine, which should be considered an official endorsement by this blog, as Mr. Ken Tucker was the finest critic in the history of Entertainment Weekly magazine, and now probably New York Magazine, as well. Be forewarned, however, that this review reveals the gist of the joke that is at the center of the film-- information that probably doesn't need to be kept a secret, but since this is the first blurb I've read about the film that has revealed it, I thought you might appreciate the warning.

posted by CM @ 8:19 PM