Stay Classic

Last night I went to music bingo at a local brewery, and the final round was classic rock. I’d say 90% of the songs were from my childhood and adolescence. I stared at my board, slackjawed, and then exclaimed, “I’m classic?!” In other words, I’m old. 

I remember a time my mom was classifying her children’s senses of style; one was athletic, one trendy, and she looked at me, paused, and then labeled me classic. I wasn’t sure what she meant, but I was living in Connecticut at the time, so I was hoping she just meant preppy, and not stale. 

I work for a tech company now, and despite the world’s advances in technology, its failure is the cause of most of my team’s headaches. “Classic” is our go-to word for things going wrong at just the wrong time. Hearing the word classic had always conjured up images of cool things like cars and rock ‘n’ roll, but the word classic was starting to take on a negative connotation, and I didn’t like it. 

Last week I was watching a morning talk show that was highlighting a trending Reel on social media that had copied a scene from a Christmas movie that was made nearly 40 years ago. One of the hosts pointed out that the Reel is popular because that movie is still relevant. That one declaration helped me to restore my mindset; being classic doesn’t mean I’m old, it means I’m popular! *cue applause* So, you see, calling something classic doesn’t mean it’s old, stale, or broken, it means it’s timeless, relevant, and enduring.

As I begin planning for the new year, I resolve to stay classically classic.

The Butterfly Effect of Parenting

You’re pondering life with friends, and someone asks, “If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be?” Does something immediately come to mind? Do you wonder if it has to be just one thing, or do you come up empty? Or, are you so happy with how your life has turned out, that you don’t want to change anything and risk losing what you have today?

Do you think one change of the past could have a huge, life-altering impact? What if you could go back and change things, and your life today would stay the same, but you wouldn’t have the memory of what you changed? Would the absence of the memory alter how you go about your day-to-day, how you feel about yourself, or how you interact with others? 

I like to think I’m special because my middle school-aged daughter still tells me what’s on her mind, about her crushes and dilemmas with friends, and asks my advice. But that got me wondering, how many of her seemingly mundane, inconsequential decisions – that I’m influencing – will actually have a huge impact on where and how she’s living life 30 years from now? Are any of the decisions she’s making today going to be the ones she rues? That’s a lot of responsibility!

As a parent, I know that I have the very serious and scary job of influencing a lot of her decisions, with both my words and actions. I think the hardest part is discerning when to take the wheel, and when to take a back seat. I hope I always have the choice, because I know it’s ultimately up to her to either hear me out or tune me out. All I really know today is that, 30 years from now, if I’m asked what I would change, I don’t want to be wishing I had been a better parent. 

To Be Continued…

My daughter and I have been streaming reruns of Who’s the Boss? lately. I love that she loves sitcoms from my childhood; it’s a nice bonding opportunity that I take full advantage of. At the end of one of the seasons, an episode came to the end of its time at a suspenseful moment, and “To Be Continued” appeared on the screen. She inhaled a quick breath and looked at me with wide eyes. A second later she remembered that she just had to click on the ‘next episode’ option, one that didn’t exist when I was growing up, and she was able to find out what would happen next.

Personally, I prefer a cliffhanger. Let me imagine what the future will bring. Let me dream up the possibilities. Suspense is a feeling that has taken a backseat in this world of instant gratification.

I recently changed careers, and the whole process has been a cliffhanger. What am I going to do? How do I do this? How will my life change? What skills do I need to dust off for this, and what new ones will I learn?

At the same time my daughter is entering adolescence like her brakes gave out. What will happen next? How will she change? What will stay the same?

I’m enjoying the suspense, and grateful to know that, while the last chapter came to an end, our story is to be continued…