This post started out to be about alcohol abuse and how you, as a Grampa, can stop it before it starts among your junior high school age and elementary school little ones. Yes, by now it's no surprise to you that a six pack behind the barn, just for the thrill and the taste of it happens way early. As you can see, I morphed into a discussion about the over-arching principle. Delayed Gratification*.
This week the Parents Empowered organization are broadcasting an ingenious TV commercial featuring a wise father who busts into his 6th grade son's bedroom with a golden turban on his head. The son and his two buddies are taking bottles of beer for a test drive with the blinds drawn. The dad crosses his arms, Mr. Clean style, and says evenly, "Oh, so you want to drink beer, do you?"
The little boy stares at the floor, bottle in hand, and replies that he does. Then Dad-Genie goes to work. "That means you'll lose your cell phone, your computer, your phone etc. (With each item, the director cuts away to each gadget poofing away in a puff of smoke) "You won't have any friends!" adds the dad, and both homies go up in smoke as well. The pint sized host of the little party gets it. He hands his Dad the beer bottle and the Genie/Father smiles tightly, booming a big "Good Choice." for reinforcement. The little buddies reappear, WITHOUT their bottles. Fade to Black.
Another anti juvenile drinking commercial shows a bunch of kids in a little dip at the bottom of an inclined lawn. They are just about to start sipping some forbidden beer. Several of them have ropes tied to their bottle hands. We find out that mothers on the other end are pulling the ropes, at first just to keep their sons from drinking--and then pulling the young hands and the bottles they're holding up the lawn toward home. Powerful images for parents and Gramparents!
A fine young man I worked with in Scouts went to France on an LDS Mission. Our son Jeff was working at the Sev (Seven-Eleven) when he saw this guy drop by and pick up a six pack of beer, clearly against LDS standards. I know his Dad really well. This man has bailed the son out of jail many times for all kinds of minor crimes. He's never murdered anyone I know of, but he's pretty good at finding funds for his needs and wants. Nuf said!
I've come to believe that we spoil our kids of every generation with things. We love them with our time. As you have learned, it doesn't take money to raise kids or gramkids. (College funds and special talent and skilllessons not withstanding) Success in this effort mostly takes YOU!
As Santa for the Osmonds for more than 30 years on TV and on the road, I've developed techniques for delayed gratification---giving out little presents at family parties-- wrapped to cover what's inside. Often there's a dozen or more children at the party. They get their present when they come up to tell me something. (I have learned NOT to ask what they want for Christmas) Often I'll even ask them if they've thought about what they're going to give their Moms and Dads. That puts a slightly different slant on Christmas, eh?
I tell the group before I start the brief little individual interviews that I brought presents for everyone, but they can't open them until, "Everybody gets one!" Delayed gratification. Anticipation is more than half the fun.
Just as a matter of technique, if you're a Grampa Santa, passing out well wrapped little gifts, always prepared by parents with a little cheat sheet for Santa listing one thing they need to improve on and one they've done exceptionally well--that's the beginning of the end of my visit**. Delayed Gratification.
(**See Santa's Electric Sleigh: Exit Strategies) I'm still developing this blog, so be patient and let me know in the comments section below if you'd like to know more (until this link is active).
Please, let me share my spirited credentials. We have nearly a dozen bottles of fine wine and spirits in a kitchen cupboard. Gramma Rosie mixes in a little bit to add to the taste of several tasty dishes. She has assured me as I gobble down the delicious results that the alcohol has long evaporated by the time I get it at the table. There was a sergeant major when I was at fort Ord, California (1970-71) who preached across the pulpit that you should not even do that. He asserted that developing a taste for it, even in food, led to alcoholism over time. We've gently turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to that well meant counsel.
A neighbor and his wife have come to a workable agreement. She comes from a pious family who never used alcohol, except to clean little wounds and owies. He and his folks have always enjoyed good quality spirits in special meals as we do. Their compromise begins with how they refer to what ever comes in such a bottle as "French Cooking Juice".
The only drinking I have ever done was twice on my LDS mission to Brazil. Confession is good for the soul, I'm told: Once when my companion and I were "in need" of a little chocolate fix, we bought what appeared to be a couple of good sized bon bons. I was raised in Wyoming where the only candy is either home made peanut brittle or the odd peppermint at Christmas.
By the way, I picked up a whole new meaning for delayed gratification with the story of a dirt poor pioneer boy. His parents could only afford one small piece of horehound candy. (the only place you can get it around here is at the end of the tour of Brigham Young's Lion House on sale in the family store) Or you can make some with an older gramkid--just the two of you together at the stove. Discover the recipe at cooks.com.
The story goes that the little pioneer fellow accepted the candy with humble thanks. He was big enough to work alongside his father to chop, dig and carve out a living on their Rocky Mountain farm. He didn't
John Allen, Holladay Elementary Principal and excellent photographer for the National Geographic once told me that he actually wished for a severe recession, something close to a depression. "These kids get everything. They're either spoiled by their parents or their grandparents. It would do them good to do without and miss a meal or two! This was in 1990 a bit before the real estate collapse of 2008-2010). Of course, a recession is when your neighbor loses his job. A depression is when you lose yours, yes?
Russian Candy Bar Commercials: A friend who spent several years in Russia told me about the early days of the Russin network television history. Just like western networks advertised all kinds of consumer items, Russian broadcast managers aired spots pushing candy bars for then a reasonably low price. Maybe for Moscow's working families. One unintended consequence of the slick commercials was the cards and letters that came in from the rural farm families.
"Please stop those commercials. We can barely afford one television for the whole villiage. When we gather around it and our youngsters see those advertisements about those candy bars they whine to us to get them right away. One candy bars costs more than Sergei and I can scrape together in a month to get fuel and food and pay our rent." Forced delayed gratification.
Designated Driver: Two high school juniors became life long friends. There wasn't a nickel's worth of difference between them to begin with. They did everything together-- double dates, long trips to the coast, short trips to the rodeo. The non drinker even entered an amateur bull riding contest and won a shiny gold colored belt buckle. Most of all, they spent their time together under the hood of an old green ford truck, vintage 1950.
After graduation and way past legal drinking age one tried it and didn't like it. The other learned to like it and spend much of his pay on bottles of this and that. He spent nights worshiping at the porcelain throne while his best friend in the world waited to drive him home to sleep it off.
One day, late in a hazy summer of one drinking and the other driving, the designated driver had had enough. Somewhere between the throne and their wheels the sober guy confronted his drunken friend. It did not go well and eventually, the two parted company in favor of whatever bottle was open at the time.
What can Grampa's do to solve that problem? Dunno! I know both these guys. They're both great kids--in their middle thirties. One has a baby--no wife. One is going through a divorce--no baby. Life is tough sometimes.
*Finally, Delayed Gratification is reported beautifully in TIME Magazine As a well informed Grampa I believe you will find this is one of the best ways to predict E.Q. Emotional Quotient. Here's the thumbnail version (or you can hit the link above and read all about it.)
Click here to find out more about the good work of the Parents Empowered organization.
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