Minor children and drinking. In my opinion, oil and water...

The new Gwinnett County school year starts up next week. It’s weird; we used to plan our lives around the Gwinnett school calendar. Since our youngest graduated high school a couple of years ago, I don’t keep up with those dates any longer. I kind of miss it.



A friend of mine has a daughter who’s a junior this year, I believe. This friend and I were talking about preparations for the new school year (I miss that so much), and we inevitably got on the subject of trying to parent teenagers in a world that screams for their attention with some mighty scary things...(read full story)

I took my dad to the doctor today. I have a headache.

My dad, for those of you who may not know, is 91 years old. It is my job to get him to his doctor appointments and let me tell you, there are many. That's OK though. At 91, a person requires a lot of maintenance and assistance, so my siblings and I work together to make sure he has what he needs.

The doctor I took him to see today is a woman, a cute, funny, sweet, friendly woman of, oh I'd say, maybe 45 or 50 years old. A baby, in Dad years. Our appointment was at 1:30, and my dad lives about 3 or 4 miles from the office. That means the process began at about 11 am today. Dad moves very slow. Picture a glacier. Frozen solid. Dad might win a race with said glacier, but doubtful.

It alwys tugs at my heart to see my dad so gray, slow and aged. As his daughter, I remember an energetic man, a gardener, a swimmer, a worker, a joker, a dad. My dad knows this, and he uses it to his full advantage. When we finally made it to the doctor's office and got seated in an examination room, I was thinking about how hard all this is for him. How tough it is for him to just get around. How exhausting it is. It breaks my heart for him.

But then, of course, he is my dad. As soon as the doctor walked into the room, Dad perked up, slipped his hand inside her lab coat and quipped, "Come here and let me see how you're feeling." I was mortified. He was suddenly full of life, full of one-liners and double entendre. I suddenly felt like the proverbial third wheel, and a nauseated third wheel at that.

And that, folks, is how our parents still get to us, even at the ripe old age of 91.

Today’s News: We’re a nation of rude people

One of the top stories on my favorite morning news show this morning was this: We have become a nation of rude people. "Civility is dead," I believe the headline was. I could have told you that. I've said it for years. I've witnessed it for years, right here in the South, the "manners" capital of the world. The story was actually about bullying among young people, the direct result of our society's lack of manners, empathy and consideration. And you guessed it - everyone's looking to schools and legislators to correct the problem.

Where have we lost this art? We've lost it at home. We lose it when a child sees his parent act like a maniac at a youth sporting event. We chip away at it when a child sees her mom deliver the one-fingered salute to another rude driver on the way home from school. We allow our kids to walk around like zombies, texting into oblivion during a family meal or bump randomly into strangers in the mall; whatever you do, don't look up!

In other words, we've lost consideration for other human beings. How many times have you sat in a confined space and listened to someone shout one half of a pointless conversation, forcing everyone around them to listen to it? Ever walked through a doorway right behind someone, just to have the door slam on you? And "customer service?" Please. Companies don't even know how to define that any longer. Most can't pronounce it.

I've never considered myself a visionary, but I clearly remember watching the days of "a computer in every home" roll out back in the 80s. I vividly remember thinking and saying to others that the Internet would change the way human beings interact. Let's face it, we weren't that great at it before the 80s. Combine this human divide with the fact that our nation, as a whole, has no idea any longer how to parent, and we've created the monster. Compassion, empathy and civility are taught and modeled at home. That's where those abilities take root and grow. Conversely, if they aren't taught at home, don't look to teachers and lawmakers to do it. Too late.

Too often, people don't see how these "little" things at home impact our community, our nation and our world. Let me explain it, in a nutshell: rude, compassionless kids become rude, selfish adults…become dishonest, self-serving leaders. And parents. It's not just a cycle; it's a downward spiral.

Do society a favor today. Holster the finger, control the tongue, and interact with your kid without a phone or computer.

Youth sports and white trash parents

I know; here in the South it's safer to talk about religion and politics than it is our beloved sports programs. But it has to be done. I decided that this morning while shopping at Kroger (a local supermarket). I was standing in line behind a woman who, from the looks of things, played on the line for an NFL team a few years back. She had most of her teeth, but there were a key few missing up front. OK maybe hockey, but not likely. Not in Georgia.

Anyway, this woman was talking to her son (I'd say he was maybe 10 years, maybe a big 9). My first thought was, "Why isn't that kid in school?" He was leaning on her grocery cart and complaining about not feeling well, so he was probably sick. But wait a minute – Mom was talking to the kid about his poor performance at last night's football practice. Apparently a bigger kid had gotten the best of him at some point during the practice. And Mom, while belittling the kid for his lack of domination over another 10 year old the night before, was trying to get Junior pumped up for tonight's practice. I presume he plans to be healed before then.

Now are you sitting down? Mom actually said to the kid, "You better kick his a** tonight, or I'm gonna kick yours when we get home." I couldn't believe it. You should've seen the kid's face: an unhealthy mix of fear and dismay. And that, my friends, sums up the way white trash parents drag their kids through recreational sports. No wonder kids burn out and abandon a sport they probably loved at one time.

My husband and I together have raised 4 children. All of them played some sport or another year-round. We had one hard and fast rule: if you sign up to play, you're gonna finish the season. After that, you never have to play again if you so choose. There's a lesson in that, if you think about it for a minute. Some parents never see it. When I see a parent (and they usually come in pairs, but not always) berate a kid like this woman did, or sit in the stands and shout at players, refs and other parents, I cringe inwardly and outwardly. How obnoxious. Their kid is usually the most talented athlete to come down the pike since Samson. Everyone else's kid is on the field strictly in a supporting role, and everyone else's kid inevitably falls short. Refs are stupid; coaches are inept. And yet Mr. and Mrs. White Trash sit in the stands on their a**es and dole out misery across the board.

I will save the specific sport of cheerleading for another post, all by itself. Those parents are a breed all their own, and their girls…wow. They're what therapy is made of.