“Wait! I have to go to the bathroom!” my son Adam shouted when we entered our room at the Days Inn Motel in Laredo, Texas. He pushed Alex and me aside and then ran to the bathroom. He immediately called us into the bathroom. “Watch,” he said as he dropped one sheet of toilet paper into the toilet and flushed it down. We watched it spiral downward until it vanished with a roar into the underworld of sewers.
My sons were glad to be back in the U.S. after spending two whole weeks in Mexico without all the creature comforts to which they are accustomed here in Chicago. I explained that we would lack some of these American luxuries, but they were still unprepared mentally for what was in store for them in Mexico.
For example, I told them that in Mexico they only served Mexican food. They were surprised that even the McDonald’s and Burger King food tasted a little Mexican. I think going to the bathroom was the activity that most struck home with them. They didn’t like the idea of putting the used toilet paper in the wastebasket next to the toilet instead of just flushing it down the way we do here.
Overall, they adapted well, but I don’t think they ever want to go back to Mexico again!
Independence Day has to be the most patriotic of all American holidays. For as long as I can remember, we celebrated the day by going on picnics, pigging out, playing soccer, volleyball, baseball, or badminton at a state park, city park, or at the beach on Chicago’s lakefront. My favorite part was always the fireworks.
The last few years, everyone has been more conscious about protecting our environment. So we try not to litter and not to pollute the air. However, the Fourth of July is the one day that it’s permissible (though not legal) to set off illegal fireworks in Chicago. The streets are littered by the remains of fireworks and the air quality is clearly polluted for a day or two. Independence Day is a day when hardly anyone thinks green. Some people in Chicago even shoot off guns on this day. You don’t really want to be driving around while all the fireworks are in progress. It’s just too dangerous in Chicago. On the news you hear reports of people getting shot and/or getting injured by fireworks. There are also accidental fires caused by fireworks. But that’s how we celebrate Independence Day in Chicago. I find it hard to believe that no one I knew was ever injured by fireworks.
Growing up in Back of the Yards, everyone had illegal fireworks. We knew all about how to handle fireworks safely, but we used to do everything possible that would place ourselves in the most possible danger. Only adults were supposed to handle fireworks. But my friends and I have been lighting firecrackers since we were nine. You were supposed to set firecrackers on the ground and then light them, but we used to light them in our hands and then throw them at each other. Timing was especially important. You also had to watch the others as they lit their firecrackers in order to be able to dodge any and all firecrackers that came your way AND not let your firecracker blow off in your hand. Yes, I’m still truly amazed that no one was ever even slightly injured!
One summer, one of my friends got the idea of letting a firecracker blow up in our hand. We all thought he was crazy. But then he held his open hand palm up and let a firecracker blow up in his hand. We just stared at him in amazement. Then, he dared us to do the same thing. We all hesitated, but none of us wanted to be called chicken the rest of the summer so we all did it once. I must admit that it was scary watching the wick burn down until the firecracker blew up. It was loud because it was so close to my ear and my hand did sting a lot from the explosion, but I didn’t get burned or anything.
One summer, on the fifth of July, I woke up early and I walked all through the neighborhood picking up all the dud firecrackers that I could find. I carefully collected all the gunpowder from them and put it in a lead pipe about four inches long. I put a cap on one end of the pipe and a firecracker on the other. I wasn’t even sure if this thing would blow up. But if it did, I knew it would be a huge blast. All my friends wanted to see the explosion, but I told them that they had to hide until after the explosion was over.
We had a clubhouse in our back yard at our house at 4405 S. Wood Street. I set the pipe down by the clubhouse. My plan was to light the firecracker in the pipe and hide behind the clubhouse. I only had to take two steps to duck for cover. I made sure everyone was hiding before I even thought about lighting it.
Well, I lit it, I turned to run, and I took only two steps when the pipe blew up. I barely made it behind the clubhouse for cover. That is, most of me had made it, save for my left foot. I felt the blast on my foot and at first I thought I had blown off my foot. About a second later, I heard some of the shredded pipe pieces falling on the concrete in the alley. When the smoke cleared, I looked at my foot. I was wearing low-cut gym shoes and the blast had blown off the part of my sock that covered my ankle. But I was uninjured! By sheer luck!
Now, every Fourth of July, I keep a wary eye on my sons lest they injure themselves with fireworks. Of course, I never tell them any of the things we used to do with fireworks when we were boys. I don’t want to give them any ideas!
My sons often ask me what video games I played when I was growing up. They cannot conceive of a world or a childhood without video games. So, the next question is something along the lines of, “Were you bored?” or “What did you do all day?” For fun, I told them, we played board games, but they heard “bored” games. They never play games like Monopoly because they think they’re boring. That’s because they’ve gotten so used to video games.
On the other hand, they can’t understand why I don’t play video games with them. I just can’t get into video games. I never played them when I was little. The only video game I ever played was Pong! And that was in high school. Pong was so boring. I preferred to play chess, another board game (not bored game!). But my sons also like to play an occasional game of chess with me.
Some people think that video games are bad because they make the players lazy and they don’t get enough exercise, but they do develop a different kind of intelligence as recent research has proven. Grand Theft Auto is supposedly bad for children because of all the violence. People criticize me because I allow my sons to play every video game that they like regardless of the content. Well, two of my three sons played GTA and the one who didn’t play the game had the lowest grades in school. The two sons who played it eventually lost interest in the game. Perhaps because I allowed them to play and didn’t criticize them for it.
I like the auto thief (in real life) who attempted to use GTA as a defense for his having stolen multiple automobiles. GTA made him steal the cars. Verdict? He was found guilty of auto theft! What a poor excuse for lack of self-control.
When my sons played GTA, they never asked to drive a car, much less attempted to steal one. My sons also like to play World of Warcraft, which they first discovered from watching South Park. I like WoW because it occasionally involves reading and writing. I haven’t played it all, but I like to look on.
The players can IM each other about the game or anything else they like. I like it when they dance like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever even though they’re supposed to be in the Middle Ages. What I like best about WoW is that the game hardly has any bugs or glitches. In fact, I have a very, old obsolete Pentium III computer that I have upgraded several times with a bigger hard drive, more memory, and a better graphics card, but it’s too slow to even check my e-mail. However, WoW runs quickly and smoothly on this computer. They must do all the graphics and computer processing on their servers. These people really know how to deliver a product!
Holy Cross School, Back of the Yards, Chicago, Illinois
I wear glasses. I’ve worn them ever since I was in grade school at Holy Cross. The optometrist told me if I wore them while I was young, I wouldn’t need them when I was older. What a lie! I’m still wearing glasses.
I bring up glasses because, as of today, all three out three of my sons (I have no daughters! Alas!) wear eyeglasses. Today, Adam and Alex picked up their new glasses from the optometrist. Adam wasn’t so happy about this, but Alex was exploring his newly corrected vision as if they gave him a new super power, like the kind of super powers that comic-book heroes have.
I knew Adam needed glasses a few weeks ago when we went to the concession stand after his Little League game and he couldn’t read the sign that listed the food for sale. Alex was wandering around the house looking at everything with a renewed appreciation of his eyesight and only now realizing what everything really looked like. For instance, he could read the titles of books that were way up on the top shelf. He never realized that there were words up there.
That reminded me of when I got my glasses at age ten; I should have gotten them three years earlier, but my parents didn’t want to spend all that money just for glasses. My grades would improve and then I would want to go to college!
So when I finally got my glasses, I saw a whole new world. I remember walking home from the optometrist and seeing the trees near my house, as if for the first time. I mean, the green part at the top of the trees consisted of many individual leaves! I knew that, but now I could actually see them for myself. At church before school, I always stared at the girl’s brown coat in front of me. I always liked the brown shade of her coat, the way it wasn’t consistently brown. Then, when I got my glasses, I was excited to learn that her coat was not just brown, but also made from corduroy. And corduroy has lines! I never saw the lines before I got my glasses.
My sons laughed when I told them that I discovered that her coat was made of corduroy. There was one downside to my new glasses until I got used to wearing them. When I looked down at the ground as I walked, it slowly waved up and down as if it were made from Jell-O. If I looked too closely, I wasn’t sure where to put my foot. My sons also thought this was funny.
Today, I saw the second movie of the Chronicles of Narnia with my sons Adam and Alex. Adam was worried about watching the movie because he had never read the book. I was glad that I saw the first movie last week before seeing this one because I wouldn’t have understood some of the allusions otherwise. I thought the sequel was actually better than the first movie. And my sons enjoyed it even though they couldn’t spoil the plot for me. Although this is a serious movie, I laughed at many scenes that were intentionally funny. I was surprised the humor was successful.
One thing that bothered me about the movie was the depiction of the “bad guys.” In most movies, the plot revolves around the conflict between the good guys and the bad guys. That’s just one of the few available movie plots. However, these bad guys look as if they’re from Spain, they have Spanish accents, and they wear the helmets and body armor of the Conquistadors. I mean, these are my ancestors. Spaniards have always been hated from the Middle Ages on. In fact, until about a few hundred years ago, Spain was considered part of Africa by most Europeans. Some of this residue hatred is still present to this day in the U.S. toward all Mexicans. Many things that happened in Europe carried over to the New World. So, this xenophobia toward Mexicans in particular is just an extension of a trend that began in Europe.
I suppose just analyzing this juxtaposition made watching the movie worth my time. That alone gave me plenty to think about! Of course, I didn’t even discuss this issue with my sons afterwards. But someday I will.
Chicago USA 