Pablo The Penguin

If there’s one development that I haven’t been able to wrap my head around, it’s my sudden insistence that all of my childhood faves return. Take The Penguin That Hated the Cold, for example. As a child I made my parents put in some serious work with this book, and now I find myself beating it into my daughters’ brain. And that’s not the only childhood fave of mine that I’ve been attempting to stampede into Beans subconscious. There’s my Fox and the Hound storybook record, and my old He-Man toys too. What does a little girl want with He-Man toys anyways? I’m not sure if she loves The Penguin That Hated the Cold or if she just smiles so big because of the faces I make when I read it to her, but it makes me happy just the same. So, what gives?

Listen, don’t get me wrong. I’m not denying that Bean will eventually determine her own favorites completely independent of the things I try to thrust upon her, but still. Surely, The Penguin That Hated The Cold is as good as any children’s book, and as a story whose theme it is to be yourself I could do a lot worse. Thing is, while she seems to enjoy it now, the day will come when she requests her true favorite and I, in keeping with my effort to be a good Dad, will give in and, well, let her be herself.

Maybe it’s because I had such a happy childhood, dominated by favorites that I can still remember fondly to this day. But, things have changed, and the world is a much different place. Take the closing scene from episode 1 of the Wire, where a young boy sat on his steps pondering his part in the death/murder of another kid while a police car raced past his house. Shortly after the fuzz sped by his Mom called him in, and the show ended when he closed the door. The scene continues to resonate with me, in both its sadness and blunt reality. Surely, the Bean’s reality will, hopefully, be much different than his, but still I can’t help but wonder about the world she’s going to grow up in. A world where every system that my parents counted on is corrupt and where most of the institutions that are in place have become so oligarchic that only the whims of the economic and corporate elite are pandered to, while our poorest cities eat themselves from within.

My favorites are good, or at least they were for me, but the Bean will inevitably determine her own. Sadly, she can’t have my reality, but, if D and I are lucky enough she can possibly have one of her own that rivals ours in terms of happiness. That, I’ve decided, is all that I want. A big smile flashed across her face as much as is humanly possible. Besides, what else is there?

Update: I've fixed the, "My Daughter is Afraid of Mike Tyson", post.