Brian Kantz, Buffalo, NY-based writer and editor

THE NEWBIE DAD - MARCH 2009

Politics as Usual

Like nearly every American, I have been fascinated by this still-new presidency of Barack Obama. Whether you like him or dislike him, you can’t help but feel that we are witnessing some pretty important moments of history here. I have tried to impress this notion on my four-year-old son. Trouble is, he could care less.

Back in January, on the big inauguration day, I went to pick up my son from nursery school. With his class letting out at 11:45 in the morning, I knew that we had to hightail it home if we were going to catch the oath of office at noon.

In the school hallway, I quickly put on the boy’s parka, shoved his gloves on his hands and plopped the stocking cap on his head. “Let’s go, go, go,” I said excitedly. He became excited, too. He knew something big was about to happen. “Are we going to McDonald’s?” he asked, nearly bursting with joy. “No, we’re trying to get home in time to see the inauguration. We have a new president!” I replied. He looked at me the same way he would if I told him that he had to go to the doctor for a shot. And he trudged out to our car, chin down, in pure misery.

I figured that he just didn’t have enough information to be interested. So after buckling him in, I began a more thorough explanation. “The president is the leader of our country and it is very exciting every time we welcome a new president. There is going to be a huge celebration in Washington, DC. There will be a ton of people there watching and there will be bands and a parade and everything.” I was positive that mentioning the bands and the parade would cinch the deal. I looked at the clock on the dashboard: 11:53. Luckily, we live close to the school.

I continued my lecture: “You see, the president is in charge. He helps make the rules for everyone. He’s a pretty powerful person.” The boy looked up. “What does he look like? Is he a man or a woman?” he asked. Now I really had him confused. These were the exact same questions he recently had when we were discussing God.

“Daddy, Daddy!” he called from the back seat, suddenly rejuvenated. Yes, maybe now he’s getting it, I thought. “What is it?” I asked. He must have a question about the swearing-in process or what happens to the old president. “Look, I see a sign of spring! I see the first robin of spring!” He was pointing to a fence at the edge of the parking lot and, sure enough, one fat bird was sitting there, freezing his tail off. “I’m guessing that’s the last one to leave, not the first one back,” I told him, switching the subject back to the original topic, “OK, let’s get home to see that inauguration.”

As soon as we walked through our door, I flipped on the TV. There on the Capitol steps, just about to place his hand on the Lincoln Bible, was Barack Obama. “Aw, man!” my disappointed son cried. “I don’t want the inauguration! I want a video! I want Cars!” I tried one last time to make my son understand the significance of this moment. “This is really important. You’ll remember this forever.” The boy stood there looking disgusted.

Then, just as Obama and Chief Justice Roberts were fumbling the oath, it hit me. My brain flashbacked to my own childhood in the early 1980s. And I viscerally recalled that feeling I had every time I sat down to watch a television program — probably The Cosby Show or Family Ties — and that wretched little NBC news peacock popped up on screen. In an instant, I knew that some guy named Reagan would be the only one on TV tonight and he would be talking about something I could care less about. The only great communicators I wanted to hear from on a Thursday night were Dr. Heathcliff Huxtable or Alex P. Keaton. But Reagan ruined that about once a month.

There it was in a nutshell — the reason my son seemed totally disinterested in politics. He doesn’t care because he doesn’t have to care!

It is a privilege — are we blessed — to live in a time and place where, despite economic woes and raging wars, our children can still just be children. They don’t have to be worried about the big stuff yet. They just want to be able to watch a goofy cartoon and have a few laughs. And isn’t that a beautiful thing?


Brian Kantz



		© 2008 Brian Kantz • All rights reserved • Contact Brian

	THE NEWBIE DAD - MARCH 2009 Politics as Usual Like nearly every American, I have been fascinated by this still-new presidency of Barack Obama. Whether you like him or dislike him, you can’t help but feel that we are witnessing some pretty important moments of history here. I have tried to impress this notion on my four-year-old son. Trouble is, he could care less. Back in January, on the big inauguration day, I went to pick up my son from nursery school. With his class letting out at 11:45 in the morning, I knew that we had to hightail it home if we were going to catch the oath of office at noon. In the school hallway, I quickly put on the boy’s parka, shoved his gloves on his hands and plopped the stocking cap on his head. “Let’s go, go, go,” I said excitedly. He became excited, too. He knew something big was about to happen. “Are we going to McDonald’s?” he asked, nearly bursting with joy. “No, we’re trying to get home in time to see the inauguration. We have a new president!” I replied. He looked at me the same way he would if I told him that he had to go to the doctor for a shot. And he trudged out to our car, chin down, in pure misery. I figured that he just didn’t have enough information to be interested. So after buckling him in, I began a more thorough explanation. “The president is the leader of our country and it is very exciting every time we welcome a new president. There is going to be a huge celebration in Washington, DC. There will be a ton of people there watching and there will be bands and a parade and everything.” I was positive that mentioning the bands and the parade would cinch the deal. I looked at the clock on the dashboard: 11:53. Luckily, we live close to the school. I continued my lecture: “You see, the president is in charge. He helps make the rules for everyone. He’s a pretty powerful person.” The boy looked up. “What does he look like? Is he a man or a woman?” he asked. Now I really had him confused. These were the exact same questions he recently had when we were discussing God. “Daddy, Daddy!” he called from the back seat, suddenly rejuvenated. Yes, maybe now he’s getting it, I thought. “What is it?” I asked. He must have a question about the swearing-in process or what happens to the old president. “Look, I see a sign of spring! I see the first robin of spring!” He was pointing to a fence at the edge of the parking lot and, sure enough, one fat bird was sitting there, freezing his tail off. “I’m guessing that’s the last one to leave, not the first one back,” I told him, switching the subject back to the original topic, “OK, let’s get home to see that inauguration.” As soon as we walked through our door, I flipped on the TV. There on the Capitol steps, just about to place his hand on the Lincoln Bible, was Barack Obama. “Aw, man!” my disappointed son cried. “I don’t want the inauguration! I want a video! I want Cars!” I tried one last time to make my son understand the significance of this moment. “This is really important. You’ll remember this forever.” The boy stood there looking disgusted. Then, just as Obama and Chief Justice Roberts were fumbling the oath, it hit me. My brain flashbacked to my own childhood in the early 1980s. And I viscerally recalled that feeling I had every time I sat down to watch a television program — probably The Cosby Show or Family Ties — and that wretched little NBC news peacock popped up on screen. In an instant, I knew that some guy named Reagan would be the only one on TV tonight and he would be talking about something I could care less about. The only great communicators I wanted to hear from on a Thursday night were Dr. Heathcliff Huxtable or Alex P. Keaton. But Reagan ruined that about once a month. There it was in a nutshell — the reason my son seemed totally disinterested in politics. He doesn’t care because he doesn’t have to care! It is a privilege — are we blessed — to live in a time and place where, despite economic woes and raging wars, our children can still just be children. They don’t have to be worried about the big stuff yet. They just want to be able to watch a goofy cartoon and have a few laughs. And isn’t that a beautiful thing?