Man Vs. Child has Transformed!

Man vs. Child has transformed! It has become Vivid Technicolor Life. The new URL address is http://www.vividtechnicolorlife.blogspot.com

Be sure and update your links and feeds. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Do you hear what I hear?

It's about seven-thirty. I'm mostly awake, still getting there. I can hear my wife breathing. I can actually hear her drawing a breath in, letting it out, soft and rhythmic, peaceful in her sleep. I hear the A/C in the window. Its guttural hum is a constant in the background but sometimes the sound comes forward to have its own say. I can hear the dog begin to yip. She's awake and ready to be let out of her pen. The children are awake, too. I can hear them talking, maybe laughing. It's another thirty minutes before anyone should be out of bed. Oh, well.

The sounds of the day gather, like factory workers lining up before the start of their shift. The noise grumbles and has its coffee then gets down to the hard work of filling our house. The toilet flushes and water runs. Hard heels drum across the hardwood floor. I go down the creaking, squeaking staircase and start the coffee-maker making its own hissing speech.

Our home is not quiet. The hard-surfaced acoustics make that nearly impossible. Besides, kids are never quiet and we have four. They shout when they mean to speak and speak when they mean to whisper and they whisper when they don't mean to talk at all. They fill their space completely with a symphony of sounds, big and little, that go on continuously throughout the day. They live out loud.

This is how it is supposed to be, I think. Life is noisy. It is a sensory experience meant to fill us completely. The music we hear on the radio or in a concert hall is only a pale imitation of the harmony we hear all day, every day. It is like a painter trying to capture what he sees with a handful of man-made colors and a flat canvas. Real music really moves you. When I hear my son cry out in fear, I run. My heart pounds and I race to the rescue. No song can do that. It is the sound of his peril that drives me. It doesn't matter what the cause is or whether he's really in danger.

For me, sound is like a prophet, testifying to the unseen. It speaks of what has been, what is, and what will be soon. Sometimes I can hear the beginnings of disaster while it is still in the planning stage and I can intercede. Sometimes I don't hear until it is too late and the atonal chimes of breaking glass are my only warning. Even so, my life is filled with the soundtrack of reality, the music of children, the bedlam of domestic life. And I wouldn't have it any other way. I, like most parents, am uneasy to get what I ask for. The most frightening sound of all is silence.

My Old Flame...

When I was a kid, a company in Japan invented this new game console. The idea of a home video game machine had been around for over a decade, but I had only played Atari a few times. This new console was something different. It was an entertainment system; the Nintendo Entertainment System. And it came with a game. It was a funny little game about a plumber (and his brother if you wanted to take turns in two-player mode) who is inexplicably on a quest to rescue a princess from an army of sentient fungi and assorted turtle-like adversaries.

At the head of this army is your arch nemesis, Bowser. Is he a dragon? A lizard? A dinosaur? We're not told and we don't care. Why a plumber and not a knight or other more traditional hero? Who knows. Perhaps they were going for a protagonist more approachable, more working class.

Whatever the reason, this strange little game from the Land of the Rising Sun has grown into an entire subculture and Mario, the princess-rescuing plumber, has become synonymous with Nintendo Entertainment.

Twenty years later there may be as many as a hundred game titles feature the mustachioed hero. An exact count is difficult because he has appeared cameo-style in many more games than he has titled himself. As a kid  I loved playing all of the Super Mario titles, including the first three for the NES and the sequels that appeared on the Super Nintendo. Even today I spent an hour plugging away at Luigi's Mansion in which Mario's brother must rescue him from a haunted house. Mario RPG, Mario Kart, Paper Mario, and now that masterpiece (in my humble opinion) New Super Mario Bros. Wii.

The last thing I want to point out is that Nintendo's signature character, who has had blockbuster release after blockbuster release, who has sold titles that were downright awful based on his name alone, who has entertained generations of children and adults alike, often side by side, carries no gun, sheds no blood and advocates fair play, mercy, generosity and kindness toward others. Those who think I'm being sappy or exaggerating need to go back and replay some of those old titles. They're still available for download for the Wii, the latest Nintendo console. I've heard kids and adults alike complain that there are no quality games out there (quality meaning actually fun to play) that don't have at least some blood and violence or other questionable content. As a life-long Super Mario fan I protest that this simply isn't true.

I gave up my PS2 because I was spending too much time playing it and the titles were increasingly too 'adult'
for me to comfortable sharing with my kids. Now, I'm as excited as they are to play the Wii and my mom has to call and ask for her copy of Super Mario Bros. back when I borrow it. Talk about habit-forming.

(By the way, if you clicked on the 'awful' link up above, I have to confess I learned how to type on that program. And I was in high school. Guess it wasn't so awful.)

I think I have the comment thing figured out. You should be able to leave comments on the blog site now.

New name, same bat-content...

In the next week, my blog's name and web address with be changing. Man vs. Child will become Vivid Technicolor Life. I want to get it out there so interested parties can update their links or whatever. I'm not really sure how this stuff works. Anyway, the new address with be www.vividtechnicolorlife.blogspot.com

The change will take place sometime this coming weekend.

So, who do you call...?

I have this theory. I've discussed it with a few people and I think I have a good point, but not everyone may agree with me. Still, hear me out.

Young children can be trained with the same techniques as dogs.

The best way to train a dog is with positive reinforcement, lots of praise, lots of treats, and above all, clear and simple directions. Dogs respond to consistency and routine. Sound familiar? That's because many child-rearing books teach the same techniques. Young children are concrete thinkers. That means that if a thing does not directly affect them (and probably in a physical way) then it is mostly meaningless to them.


I've read that even the smartest of dogs has the mentality of human toddler. They are pleasers that seek affection and are clever and persistent in the reaching of goals. Likewise, children are scary in their ability to devise plans to get what they want but ultimately they desire to be loved and approved of.

We treat kids to privileges when they behave and enforce punishments when they don't. When they don't understand what's expected of them they get nervous and act out. Changes in routine make them uncertain. The more you think about it t he more you'll see. Maybe a good dog training manual out to sit on the shelf next to Sal Severe and Kevin Leman. I recommend The Loved Dog by Tamar Geller. Part of the book is her personal story and why she likes dogs so much. It might be a really good story. I don't know. I skipped to the training part. Geller believes in non-aggressive training that build dogs up rather than bullying them into behavior. Good for dogs and kids if you ask me.

So, now you just have one question you have to answer. If you think I'm way off base and have no business rearing children with this kind of whacko philosophy, who do you call?

DCFS or PETA?

I don't get it...

humor - n. wit, a message whose ingenuity or verbal skill or incongruity has the power to evoke laughter

How many psychologists
does it take to change
a light bulb?

One, but it has to really
want to change.

Where, exactly, did this whole sense-of-humor thing come from? Is it something that's absolute or is it strictly objective? It seems to be the latter. At least as far as I can tell with my kids. My wife and I tell jokes and make witty banter throughout the day. (Perhaps we laugh only to keep from crying?) Anyway, the kids have quickly discovered that humor is well received and are constantly trying to participate as well.

Now here's the problem, at least from my perspective. While my own wit goes sailing over their heads like a weather balloon they return fire with a volley of knock-knock jokes that leave me waiting for the punchline. And I look like the goon when I don't laugh at the right time.


Don't get me wrong, I love a good knock-knock joke.

'Knock knock.'
'Who's there?'
'Interrupting cow.'
'Interrupting c-'
'Moo.'

It's funny, right? What I struggle with is jokes with a punchline like 'Flying-chicken vegetable-head.' I know, kids are learning, in this case they are learning the concept of a joke. They grasp the format, but they have a hard time understanding why one thing is funny and not another. We're working on improving the content so we get to more real laughing and less weak 'Ha-ha. That's a good one, son.'

The second issue is the vast chasm that exists between what a kid thinks is funny and what an adult with a more, uh, 'sophisticated' sense of humor thinks is funny. I'm reluctant to use that word, sophisticated, because I know fathers and sons have been sharing the working of Mel Brooks and The Three Stooges for generations now.  All the same, the subtly of satire or parody is lost on children who think in such concrete terms. To be fair, the comedy of bodily functions is mostly lost on me.

Perhaps it's possible to close this gap, to bridge the chasm and find common humor. After all, I'm a huge fan of animated movies including Shrek, Ice Age, Over the Hedge and more. Yet I'm not always sure we're laughing at the same things. I love Donkey's quick and wordy sarcasm while the kids seem to think the gross humor of an Ogre lifestyle is the height of comedy.

Whatever the solution, I encourage everyone to share laughter with your kids, help them learn the joy of finding humor in life's difficult situations. Teach them to look for irony. And for crying out loud, teach them so decent jokes so they don't get that confused deadpan at the jr. talent show.