Jersey Mike

Almost every Sunday, I go to one of my couple-friends George and LeAnne’s to watch The Soprano’s.

You see, they’re both From Jersey- and mock us all you will, but, people from Jersey who’ve transplanted to other states seem to gravitate towards one another- so it’s become sort of a “thing”- since last season, anyway- for us to get together to do this and I enjoy it immensely. It’s the closest thing I’ve got to Sunday Dinner at Gram’s growing up-

Most weeks, we make an event out of it. We cook some sort of Italian meal and cap it off with Éclairs, Cheesecake or some Pepperidge Farm combination of the two.

And then LeAnne goes and dims the lights- we all turn off our cell phones and settle in to their big comfy couches and get immersed in the wide screen TV they’ve got for about fifty minutes- followed by smokes on the deck to discuss the episode.

I usually get there around seven thirty to hang out, catch up, shoot the shit and- of course- eat. (I’m single…which means I usually eat one good meal per week…Sunday Dinner)

They’ve got the super-dope-diggity high definition TV and the full Comcast cable package- (not that I approve of that- but hey, we all need our Sopranos)

So I got there tonight- right on schedule- and we were hanging out, catching up- with the TV on in the background.

“America’s Funniest Home Videos” was on- and while I usually enjoy a chuckle or two at the expense of others, what I saw tonight made me really stop and think how utterly disturbing and twisted Disney really is-

You see, Disney owns ABC Broadcasting.(amongst many other culturally influential things)

If you’ve been living under a rock and are unfamiliar with what the program is about, allow me to explain the premise to you-

The program features short videos shot on home camcorders, cell phones and the like of people in embarrassing and uncomfortable situations- the wedding party falls over each other during the Chicken Dance or while catching the bouquet; father and son playing baseball and son beans Dad in the nuts with the bat or ball; the family cat falls asleep on top of the warm TV and falls off- you get the picture.

Tonights episode featured what may have well been the beginning of the chain of events leading to a Virginia Tech massacre in the future –(oh, I’m sorry- is it TOO SOON?)

There was a video of a kid- no more than six or seven years old- who was being scolded by his father.

The back story of the clip obviously wasn’t shown, but the gist of it led us to believe that something the kid did (on a Sunday afternoon) led the kid’s parents to reprimand him.

His punishment? Not being allowed to watch America’s Funniest Home Videos.

The video showed the seven year old kid in tears- snorting and gasping for air- shortly after being punished.

Behind the camera was the kid’s dad- asking him why he was upset-

“be..be..be (snort) because I was baaad”

“And what happens when you’re bad?” The dad coaxed him along-

“I…I…I just can’t SAY … (snort) it” whimpered the poor kid..no more than seven years old.

“Why can’t you say it? What happens when you did what you did?” The father pushed…
“I…(more snorting and tears visibly running down his face) I just … I can’t … I can’t SAAAAYYYY (snort) ITTT”.

Now sobbing uncontrollably.

(Dad) “What’s the matter? What can’t you do?”

“I…I…I can’t watch America’s Funniest Home Videos!”

AUDIENCE ERUPTS IN LAUGHTER.

What?!?!

This!

From the same company that delivered Bambi, Snow White and The Little Mermaid?!

Most times, winding up on TV is a high point of some people’s lives.

Get quoted on the news, maybe saved a cat from a burning tree, caught a foul ball at the baseball game-

But a seven year old kid- after being scolded for doing something wrong and in the most raw and vulnerable state- being VIDEOTAPED by his scolder- and then SADISTICALLY shown on NATIONAL TELEVISION!?

That kid, the poor thing, will be RIDICULED and MADE FUN OF Monday morning in Homeroom.

Guaranteed.

And that’s gonna scar the kid for LIFE!

Imagine being seven years old and doing something to garner being punished. And then being sent to your room–sobbing like a…like a SEVEN YEAR OLD KID.

And THEN! Imagine your parents VIDEOTAPING the whole thing and broadcasting it to the NATION!

I tell ya, man– people wonder why some kids grow up and wind up completely SNAPPING on their classmates-

This is one of those times that makes sense.

Good job, Disney. Keep up the great work.

Family programming?

Yeah, that sounds about right.

If you are a parent (and I’m going to guess that a fair number of you are), then you’ll dig this video.

If you aren’t a parent, watch this video to get an idea of what we parents get to endure on endless loops in our homes.

(Just like most SNL features, this one drags a bit towards the end…but it’s still pretty damn funny)

video://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sb7eLgaddI4

Earlier today, I asked Kaiya when was the last time she saw her cousin Liam.

Mulling it over for a good ten seconds, she proudly said “Friday”.

I said “But today is Friday, sweetie.”

“Oh.”

We walked a few more steps up Kelker towards the Purple Park and I quizzed her, “Do you know what time it is?”

She thought for a moment longer than her last question and said “I don’t know, Daddy. What time IS it?”

The first question I asked was genuine…I really wanted to know the last time she got to play with her cousin. But her answer was what made me ask the next question rhetorically.

See, I’ve been thinking a lot lately, moreso when we’re together, about when in time do we lose our innocence? When is it that we realize that the world just ain’t as pretty of a place as we once thought it was?

At what point do we realize that our days are numbered and each step along the way can seem like just another strategic meeting? That we need to be somewhere but just can’t quite get there? That, no matter how much we prepare, there’s just never enough time.

The question has baffled me for years. Since the day she was born, really. At what point in our journey through life do things get serious?

And the conclusion that I came to today was that our innocence is buried the day we learn to “tell time”.

Thinking about it more as we sat on the park bench and blew bubbles, I realized that although Kaiya and I can converse in a flowing, intelligent and polite manner–where every word that she hears is a new file in her little memory bank; she has no concept of time.

“Ticking away, the moments that make up a dull day”

It must start in elementary school. That first lesson about the big hand on the twelve and the little hand on the four. Soon after that, we’re fucked.

Before we know it, it’s “twelve forty five: recess time” and “three ten in the afternoon: school lets out” followed by “dinner at seven” and finally to “bed at nine”.

Things get regimented.

“I’ve got a meeting at one thirty and a dentist appointment at five”

“Work begins at eight am and ends at four thirty. Not a minute later”

Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over, thought I’d something more to say