Star Wars, FOMO & Getting Ready for The Force Awakens

As my family’s Year of Star Wars Part 1 is coming to an end, when my boys become indoctrinated, initiated and almost institutionalized with Star Wars Fever, it has occurred to me that I’m suffering from a retroactive case of FOMO, or Fear of Missing Out.

FOMO is an acronym defined as ”anxiety that an exciting or interesting event may currently be happening elsewhere, often aroused by posts seen on a social media website.”

I’m generally not a jealous person and am generally happy for people who post their trips-of-a-lifetime pics on Facebook (as long as they don’t post 300), so that’s not really a point of FOMO for me. Though we all have our regrets, the one that has been on my mind lately is ironically something that I missed out on even though I was actually there.

Earlier this year at the Dad 2.0 Summit in San Francisco, one night we were bussed into the Presidio for an event at Lucasfilm. It was pretty cool walking on the hallowed grounds where so much movie magic has taken shape, yet at the same time I have to admit that I was a bit tuned out. I’d always been into Star Wars, but at the time I hadn’t seen any of the movies in quite a while and since becoming a parent my memory of the two moons of Tatooine had been replaced with a permanent memorization of Goodnight Moon. Needless to say at the time my kids’ interests were attuned elsewhere beyond a galaxy far, far away.

It’s not as though I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, it’s more that I just wasn’t in a Star Wars frame of mind, so it was an amazing place to be, but I was elsewhere while I was there. That being said:

I was lucky to be greeted at the event by the wisest Jedi of all:

Given directions by these two gents dressed in reverse tuxedos:

And greeted by one of the more notorious parents in film history:

Fortunately I got a warm hug from this trusty little Droid:

I was given a sneak peak that night of the hilariously clever and pithy Lego Star Wars: Droid Tales and that kickstarted some of those memories for me. I was eager to introduce that series and the larger series it inspired to my boys, and a few months later I did. Hesitantly. I wasn’t sure if (then) 5 1/2 & 2 1/2 year old boys would really understand the movies, but I can honestly say that from the first loud blast of the Star Wars theme preceding Episode IV, they were hooked. We spent the summer watching all six movies, debating their merits, highlights and lowlights and wishing we all had real lightsabers of our own.

We’ve learned a lot along the way about family, relationships and communication, because when you really look at the root of the Star Wars saga, it’s about a troubled man who sacrificed everything for the woman he loved (and lost) and again, later in life, for his son. Anakin Skywalker suffered from the ultimate case of FOMO and thankfully he was able to redeem himself as his life concluded. Though he did miss out on most of his children’s lives, at least he saw that his son became the success he never could. So his fear of missing out was extinguished as his soul was put to rest.

I’ve also erased the thoughts that I missed out on my night at Lucasfilm with the few memories of amazing things I saw there, not the least of which was this LEGO bust of George Lucas, which quasi-resembled Burt Reynolds in Boogie Nights. 

Now, I’m ready to absorb The Force Awakens with my family on the big screen, opening weekend. To paraphrase Yoda, “miss out, we will not.”

Why I Hate Halloween Costumes

I love candy. Always have, always will and I have the extensive relationship with the entire staff of my dentist’s office to prove it. I even owned a candy company for several years, which afforded Mrs. Dude and me the opportunity to attend the International Candy Convention several times, which nearly sent me into a diabetic coma and I don’t even have diabetes. Needless to say, there’s a lot I’d do for candy, but there’s one thing I absolutely won’t: dress up for Halloween.

When I was a kid in the 1980s, I used to get packaged Halloween costumes that came in one of those boxes with the cellophane window to check out the mask you’d inevitably almost suffocate in during the quest for another Baby Ruth. Having worn glasses since I was 3 added another level of discomfort to that soft plastic face cover held in place on the wearer’s head by a tourniquet-tight elastic band stapled to both sides. Beyond that, I was raised in the Midwest so my mother-mandated heavy winter coat further compromised my attempt to look like a superhero and made me into more of a supergeek. Thankfully most of the other local kids were equally unlucky and geeky at the same time.  

Needless to say those costumes discomfort and general awkwardness was a nuisance and as soon as I was capable, I figured out a way to reach my objective (pillowcase overflowing with mini Snickers bars) without not only avoiding one of those lame boxed costumes, but really any costume at all. I’d simply throw on a baseball hat and become a member of the Cleveland Indians. Another year October 31^st wasn’t quite as cold, so I wore my regular clothes and went as a “student”. Creative, right? Thankfully there were no minimum requirements for costume qualifications, but had there been so, I would have skated by, like the “ice skater” I dressed as another year with my parka, gloves and wool hat costume.

I'm pretty sure I had this GI Joe costume, complete with the trashbag quality bodysuit.

Ever since, and especially since becoming an adult, I’ve been baffled by adults who not only dress up for Halloween, but go all out to do so. When I first moved to Los Angeles, I lived in an area called West Hollywood, which holds a massive Halloween extravaganza every year. After attending during my first couple years in town, and seeing an inordinate amount of costumes which can’t be described in a family blog among the impossible-to-cross swarm of people, I had no need to ever do so again.

So now that my boys are 3 & almost-6 and super into Halloween, they asked me to dress up with them this year. They both chose to be Darth Vader this year after having spotted the costumes a couple months back during a trip to Costco, shortly after their first viewing of Star Wars. Though costumes have come a long way since the old cellophane-box days, there’s still no chance I’d wear an official costume. Instead, I think I’ll complement their costumes by dressing as intergalactic smuggler Han Solo. After all, he wore relatively normal clothes, and more importantly he was a smuggler, which will be useful when I pilfer the mini Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups from their Halloween bounty without them knowing. And when the calendar flips to the 1^st of November later that night, we can all rest our heads comfortably knowing that we did what we had to do to reach our objective, a handful of sweet treats and, for me, another year without a silly costume.

My Junior Vaders prepping for their big night out. I'll wash my jeans to do the same.

5 Things I Learned about Parenting from Star Wars

Spoiler Alert: There are key Star Wars plot points inside this piece. I shouldn’t need to warn anyone, as the original movies were all released 30+ years ago, so if you haven’t seen them and are shocked by any revelations here, that’s on you.

During both of Mrs. Dude’s pregnancies I received suggestions of must-read pregnancy and parenting books from more than a few people I knew and myriad more that I didn’t. I did explore a couple, partially to pacify those who had shared their recommendations and also, more frequently, to help me fall asleep on those I-can’t-freakin’-do-this pre-delivery sleepless nights.

But there is another source of parenting tips I’ve reflected upon countless times over the last 5+ years since the Little Dude was born. And now, with Father’s Day once again upon us, I want to share with you some of the great parenting dos and don’ts I learned from one of the most infamous movie fathers of all time, Darth Vader.

1) Be present for, and with, your children: As Vader was pretty much a deadbeat dad, albeit for very atypical reasons, his son was lucky to have his old man’s former mentor (aka Obi-Wan Kenobi) looking out for him during his most impressionable period. Sure, being raised on a farm in Tatooine by his father’s stepbrother Owen was probably not nearly as exciting as a childhood spent roaming the Death Star, but Luke received a good education (also from Mr. Kenobi), had a large outdoor area for playtime and ultimately proved to be a high moral character Jedi…despite his father’s best/worst/completely nonexistent efforts.

2) Don’t give your kids trendy names: Luke & Leia were excellent choices given their time and place in history. Context and family history are important, but when selecting names for your children, consider that they are the ones who will have to live with them for the rest of their lives, and it’s got to be difficult to be taken seriously in a professional workplace with a first name like Boba, Qui-Gon or Jar Jar.

3) Support & encourage your children’s interests: Luke was a skilled farmer thanks to his uncle’s tutelage, but he always yearned for something more than a normal (i.e. boring) desert life.  If not for Obi-Wan and Yoda, both of whom were contemporaries of Luke’s father, Luke might not have achieved his true destiny as a Jedi Knight. As it turned out, Luke was probably subconsciously hoping to earn his father’s respect, or at least attention, when he trained to become a skilled Lightsaber user. I doubt either of them anticipated how that one was going to turn out.

If only Vader had used his Lightsaber for dental hygiene instead of evil.

4) Use Your Words: In both The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, father and son Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader were brought together via one-on-one physical combat. They shared a common dearth of quality time together, so it might have behooved them and their nonexistent relationship to air their grievances (i.e. Luke about his abandonment and Vader over his son’s refusal to join the family business and join him over on the Dark Side). When children are not mature enough to fully express themselves as they wish, they often resort to hitting, hair pulling or other physical actions and reactions as a method of communicating a message or getting the response and/or attention they truly crave. “Use Your Words” is teaching them that verbal communication is a more effective method for earning a desired outcome. Had Vader been a stronger communicator with better grasp of his emotions, he might have been able to convince his son to join him in the family business. Does it matter that said business was less than legit? Not really, after all, family is family.

5) Don’t Be a Jerk: Vader sliced his son’s hand off with a Lightsaber AND THEN finally revealed that he was Luke’s father. It’s well known that children learn both positive and negative behaviors from observing their parents’ habits and actions. Vader shouldn’t have been surprised when after forcefully removing Luke’s limb in the heat of battle, that Luke returned a year later and did the same exact thing to him. Darth should have considered the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you’d have them do unto you, which Luke obviously took quite literally.

All of the above being said, the Star Wars saga is about family, relationships and dealing with others you may not see eye to eye with. There will always be issues up for debate (maybe Luke should have listened to his father and joined the Dark Side, with the goal of turning everyone good again?) but maintaining open lines of communication can help clear murky things up. I haven’t shown the Star Wars films to my son yet, but I think he may soon be due. After all, I know I can hardly wait for Part VII, aka The Force Awakens, which will be released later this year, on December 18!. Maybe we’ll find out if Luke settled down and had a family of his own. I’m hoping he taught his own son a lesson or two, unlike his father ever did for him.

Happy Father’s Day and May the Force be with you.

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Disclaimer: I wrote this post as part of my participation in the Fandango Family Digital Network. I was compensated accordingly, but all content and opinions contained within are mine entirely, for better or worse. Come hang with the FF team on Facebook, too. 

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The Moment I Realized My Toddler is Cooler Than Me

From Clark Griswold to Dr. Evil, countless movies have been filled with terribly cliché fathers trying to be cool around their children and failing miserably.  Though I was never the coolest kid in my school, or the least, I was friendly enough to at least stay on the fringe. Now I’m at the point in my life where my desire to be popular is greatly outweighed by my desire for the mythical good night of sleep. Still I want to be and have fun with my kids and if they want to view me as more fun like Vince Vaughn in Old School than known terrible father Darth Vader, so be it.  

But a couple recent events have made me realize that maybe I’m not as cool as I think I am, or maybe it’s just that my boys are already breezing past me right before my eyes. Mrs. Dude and I took the boys bowling recently and I never expected that seemingly innocuous experience to open my eyes so broadly. I hadn’t been bowling in many years, other than on Wii where I’m an expert, so I was surprised at how long the lanes seemed and how heavy the ball felt.

As we took our turns gliding our tie-dyed spheres down the slick lane I felt like I was having a good time. It was fun to get out there with the boys at this stage when they still need us and don’t realize that before long they won’t want to bowl, or do anything else in public, with us anymore. As we took our turns, aided mercifully by the raised bumpers denying any gutter balls, I heard a couple of older kids in the lane next to ours calling the Littler Dude’s name. Not paying much attention because his name is not uncommon, after a moment I realized they were indeed calling for my 2 year old.

I looked up but couldn’t place these kids, who appeared to be about 10 years old, so the fact that they knew my son was both perplexing and concerning. Several thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there when suddenly I noticed the Littler Dude’s preschool teacher standing a little further back in the next lane. These were her kids who had taken a shining to the Littler Dude on a couple visits to his school. Whew.

It truly surprised me that these elementary schoolers would turn their focus from a group of 8 or 10 of their friends to even notice a 2 year old, let alone pay even a smidge of attention to him, but then it hit me: my 2 year old son is cooler than me. This is clearly the beginning of my boys’ upward trajectory and my plateau. Hopefully I’ll have another 50 or 60 years on earth, but I’ll likely never again be as hip as I feel like I once was. (Note: using the word “hip” means I’m clearly not.) I’m not suggesting that I need to be put out to pasture quite yet, but as my psyche is coming to terms with me turning 40 later this year, I realize that I’m no longer a kid. Despite feeling a little sore the day after we bowled, I’m not feeling too many aches and pains yet. I’ve been working on becoming healthier because I know I must keep my machine in solid working order to keep it running smoothly as long as possible. I may be getting older but I don’t intend to feel old in the process.

That afternoon, while the Littler Dude napped, (who’s cool now?), I visited my barbershop for an overdue cut. I saw a new stylist who did a great job (and not only because she noted that I have a good thick head of hair), which really reinvigorated me a bit as I’d been feeling a little shaggy. As she used the clipper to clean up my neck and sideburns, I heard the buzz getting significantly louder when it dawned on me that she was trimming the tiny hairs on my ears. I attributed it to my uber-strong hair follicles and Russian ancestry and let it go.  A few minutes later, though, after she applied the styling goop to my hair in a generous effort to make me look a smidge less like, well, me was when I received official confirmation that I’m not as cool as I thought.

“Do you want me to tame your eyebrows while you’re here?”

“Um, OK,” I sheepishly replied, though the real thought burning my brain at that moment was “get off my overgrown over-eye lawn!”

It’s official: my kids have clearly surpassed me in coolness and there’s likely no turning back.

Bushwacked brows & buzzed ears

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