Theater of the Absurd

I think it's fair to say that I've seen a lot of theater in my life. When I was in college, my friend Greg and I were subscribers to Salt Lake Acting Company. Kelly and I enjoyed season tickets to American Conservatory Theater and Theater Rhinoceros when we lived in San Francisco.

I've seen Patty Lupone play Evita, been to all 8 hours of Angels in America (I and II), and witnessed a lot of experimental theater -- including a one man show the finale of which consisted of that one man stripping naked and putting clothes pins all over his body...his entire body.

But this weekend I may have had the strangest theatrical experience of my life. We took the boys to see the Salt Lake Acting Company's first-ever play for children: Go, Dog. Go! Based on the children's book by PD Eastman.

Now to be fair the actors were all very, very good, and the sets were fun. Gus loved it (he saw it with his school earlier in the week as well). Niko watched whole thing with a suspicious, confused look on his face and then deemed it simply too loud.

I sat through the entire 50 minutes wondering if the whole thing had been hatched when a group of artsy types stumbled across the book while on an acid trip. As a matter of fact, I bet a few adults in the audience wondered if they'd unintentionally dropped some acid themselves before the curtain went up.

As we left SLAC, it dawned on me: it didn't need to be great theater. Shakespeare in the Park is seldom great theater. But it introduces many people to The Bard's work in an easily accessible manner: I mean seeing Romeo and his buddies dressed in gang colors certainly makes one rethink the play's relevance in our lives far better than fumbling through it in Freshmen English class.

Go, Dog. Go! Didn't need to be great theater either. It just needed to be theater.

My job as a parent is to introduce my kids to new ideas and activities. It's why we've taken them to college basketball and minor league baseball games. It's why we're members of the Natural History Museum and visit the Fine Arts Museum. It's why we take them hiking, and why we see popular movies.

It's not about what we enjoy; it's all about what they might enjoy.

And for what's it worth, as strange as Go, Dog. Go! was. It was still a much more enjoyable theatrical experience than the week's earlier event: Niko's pre-school holiday program. He took one look at the stage and let out a scream that could be heard three counties over. Before a single note was sung, I had to rush the stage and rescue him.

Pity none of the parents of the fine actors in Go, Dog. Go! thought of doing the same for their kids ;-)

(By the way, I in no way meant to disparage high school English teachers. The three very wonderful women who taught me Romeo and Juliet, Julius Caesar and Hamlet did a great job and helped instill in me a love of his work.)

Be sure to check out my column, Who's Your Daddy, in the current issue of QSaltLake (found at qsaltlake.com)

Putting the thanks back in Thanksgiving

(Yeah, I know, cheesy title. That's why my column has an editor.)

Gus' teacher, Mrs. F. as the kids call her, has a strict rule about class work: if it doesn't get completed during school it becomes homework. Like a lot of other students, Gus had to test Mrs. F.'s conviction during the first few weeks of school, and ended up with extra homework. But once he realized she meant what she said, he finished his work in class.

So imagine my disappointment this past Monday when I opened his backpack and found an incomplete set of work sheets with the word Homework!! scrawled across the top in intimidating red ink!

Really, I guess I couldn't blame him. He was overly excited this week. There were only 2 days of school, no spelling test was scheduled, no homework was planned, and the coup d' grace: it snowed Sunday evening. Snow makes Gus crazy with excitement.

As I launched in to my lecture about the importance of staying focused at school and how disappointed this made me, I thumbed through the worksheets. That's when I saw it: a picture of four stick people and four stick animals, and in his still learning handwriting: "I am thankful for my dad, papa, brother, dog and guinea pigs".

The lecture stopped, I hugged Gus and said, "I'm thankful for you too."

So, in the spirit of thankfulness, I am grateful for:
- my kids, who every day teach me how to be a better man
- my partner, Kelly, who stands by me in thick and thin
- my parents, siblings, cousins, uncles / aunts, nieces / nephews; if I lost everything else, I know I'd always have them
- my dog, Gracie, whom we've had 9 years this week, and never lets a minute go by without letting me know, as far as she's concerned, I'm the greatest guy in the world
- my old friends with whom I get to spend time again and new friends, who are enriching my life in all sorts of fun ways
- John, Sabine, Carol and a host of other folks in California whom we no longer get to see as often as we want, but are always in our hearts
- my Dilworth girls (who know who they are...)
- my fellow Arcadians and our "club", through which I get to see my cousins regularly and which connects me to my family's past (and my very personal past in the form of my 5th grade teacher eating dinner with me once a month!)
- my AHEPA brothers, a never-ending source of amusement...come on, Greek men and "organization" in the same breath???
- my church where I am always welcomed with open arms
- the seasons, something I really missed in California
- all of you, who read my blog, share it with friends and colleagues and provide me with such great feedback

And most of all, I'm thankful for my life, warts and all!

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Come On, It's 2010!

The other day I went to pick up Gus from school. As I waited for class to get out, Shawn, the father of one of Gus' friends, arrived and came over to talk with him. He mentioned that he had just read my column in QSaltLake.

I was rather surprised, since he's neither gay nor on my own personal distribution list. Now that doesn't mean that Q doesn't have a wide cross section of readers of every persuasion. It just surprised me.

Turns out the paper had recently interviewed him. He and his wife bought a bar earlier this year that, until its sale, had been a gay bar called Naked.

At one point the reporter asked Shawn if his place, Gracie's, was a gay bar. His response was brilliant: "Well, it's not a straight bar. And it's not a gay bar. It's just a bar. Come on, it's 2010."
What an amazingly refreshing attitude.

The way I see it, if we think too much in terms of gay and straight, we end up isolating ourselves. And I can't do that.

Not only do I think a world where all of my friends were gay, or white, or Greek, or Orthodox Christian, or liberal, or vegetarian, or mid-40s would be excruciatingly boring, I think it'd be really unfair to my kids.

What could they possibly learn from a world where everyone was exactly like their dad? (Fabulous though he may be?) I want my kids to experience people and ideas different than what they know. I want my kids to question beliefs and ideas. It's about growth.

And I recognize that it's a two-way street. I need people to be open to having their beliefs or their kids' beliefs challenged by my family.

But isn't that the way it should be? No gay families or straight families. No LDS families or Orthodox families. No traditional or non-traditional families? Just plain families? Come on, it's 2010!

Birthday Gifts

Today is Niko's 3rd birthday.



On my sons' birthdays, I always think about their mom - the woman who unknowingly gave me the greatest gift I've ever received: fatherhood. I wonder if she thinks about them, longs for them, speculates about their lives.



This morning at church I prayed for her. I prayed that she would know that her boys are in a loving home where they are part of a strong family - one that isn't quite Norman Rockwell but in which they are adored nonetheless. I prayed that she understood that their lives are filled with happiness and they are surrounded by people of all ages, who cherish them.



I prayed that if she thought of Niko today she smiled.