Thursday, February 19, 2009

First Mugging essay at NYTimes.com's Motherlode blog

Lisa Belkin at the NY Times was kind enough to ask me to do a guest blog for her Motherlode column, which many parents are quite devoted to. I wrote about 'First Mugging' as an urban rite of passage for kids who grow up in the city, and I also mentioned that I'd take that over the suburbs with their teenage drivers and ticks any day.
http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/02/19/raising-kids-in-the-city-or-the-suburbs/?hp

The post has generated a ton of comments - 149 at last count - and it's interesting to read them.

Most of them debate whether it is better to raise kids in the city or the suburbs, which is fine - we make our choices for whatever reasons and obviously we think we've made the right choice or we'd move, right?

But I was a bit puzzled by two types of other comments. One seemed to think I made up this stuff about fear of ticks. I assure you I did not.

My sister lives on Long Island and had Lyme disease. When I visit my college roommate in Rockland County, she always tells us to check for ticks when we go in her house. One friend at work had Lyme disease; she lives in New Jersey. Another lives in Connecticut and says she pulls ticks off her and her kids all the time. My neighbor's dog got bitten by a tick on an excursion to the 'burbs and actually died.

So anyway, just for the record, my fear of ticks is not hypothetical, in case anyone was wondering.

The other thing that has generated a lot of postings is questioning how common it is for kids to get mugged. I did not research police statistics for this story. I only know that among the teenage boys that I know in middle-class Brooklyn - admittedly a small unrepresentative sample - it seems like many of them get jumped (i.e., punched, assaulted or beaten in some way on the street) or robbed of some item - whether it's a cell phone or an iPod or a Gameboy - between 5th grade and high school. And by the way, I bet that 90 percent of those incidents do not get reported to the cops.

Many posters proudly stated, "I have lived in NYC all my life and never been mugged!" Well actually that is true for me also. But I have certainly been a victim of many, many crimes, and that was my larger point in the story - that if you live here long enough, someone is going to smash your car window, break into your apartment, steal your bike ... or mug your kid. And that it is one of the tradeoffs you make living in the city, and of course you hope that no one is ever seriously hurt.

I'll end by restating something I said in the story. If you are a New Yorker and you get called for jury duty, at some point they ask, "Has anyone here been a victim of a crime?" I have never been in a jury pool where every single person didn't raise their hand. This does not make me want to live in Larchmont. It merely makes me feel at one with my fellow New Yorkers. And the point of my story was simply that kids who grow up here get that, and they are OK with it.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Thai chili sauce

The other night I made steak in a marinade of ginger, garlic, soy sauce and Thai chili sauce. My teenage son liked it, but he asked me, "Didn't you use a different Thai chili sauce last time you made something like this?"

Um, I had, yes. About three months ago. And as he duly noted, the other Thai chili sauce was sweeter than this one.

But can I just say that I am amazed that a kid can have a memory for Thai chili sauce that allows him to distinguish between two types, each of which he has only tasted once, three months apart?

When I was his age, I liked ... Yodels. And I thought putting soy sauce on broccoli was really exotic.

And the only place you could get Thai chili sauce was in Thailand.

And I had never met anyone who had been there, and didn't imagine that I ever would.

When I was his age, it was a big deal taking the subway from Manhattan to the Bronx, for God's sake.

And it sort of still is.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

Tears over a game

Most of the time I couldn't care less about sports. Never played it, don't understand it, never really cared much about any team. In fact, I usually find it downright boring unless my own kids are playing, and even then, I just have a hard time paying attention and understanding what's happening.

But this past weekend something happened to me. I felt like crying after my son's team lost a basketball playoff game. First time in my life that happened to me. It was weird, feeling emotion about sports.

First quarter, looked like they were outmatched. Second and third quarters, they did great and pulled ahead. Fourth quarter, it was tied. They went into overtime. My son fouled out. The other team scored four points and won.

A lot of the kids were crying. Often when kids cry after losing, I want to say, "Get a grip! It's just a game!"

But this time I wanted to cry too, I guess because it seemed like they were going to win, and it felt so tragic that they ended up losing.

After the game, I heard the referee say, "It's good when they cry!"

"Why is it good when they cry?" I asked, feeling like crying myself.

"Because it means they really wanted to win!" he said.

Right. I guess that's why I felt that way - I REALLY wanted them to win. And I felt really sad for all of us when they didn't.

Do my children hate me?

Someone asked at my reading last week if my children hate me for writing this book.

They claim not to.

My older son says he trusts me not to have embarrassed him; his friends think it's cool; and he reminded me that when I first got my advance, I went to the Nintendo store, stood on line for two hours and bought him and his brother a Wii. :)

Also - I gave them nicknames in the book. Not that it's foolproof, but it is different than using their names. And I tried hard to write the book from my perspective, and not pretend to know what is going on in their heads.

Finally - sadly, 21st century kids just don't think books are that important. TV shows, maybe, movies maybe. But not books. And who can blame them, given the rate at which books are remaindered. It makes me sad, since books are so very important to me. But I see why they feel that way.

Why I'm only doing two bookstore events

I had a reading at Barnes & Noble in my neighborhood last week. I am really grateful to all the friends, coworkers and neighbors who came out to see me. It's only easy - and maybe even only possible - to make these readings work when you can feel the love.

I only have one other reading - Feb. 24th out on Long Island at a great local bookstore called Book Revue in Huntington. It'll be Mardi Gras that night, and we'll have some fun stuff for a little party.

Couple people have asked why I am not doing more readings. Well, I did a lot of readings for my other books and realized that No. 1, you really don't sell many books at readings, even when you get a good crowd. No. 2, they are a lot of work to publicize, and they're best done where you have a built-in base, like your own hometown or nearby.

I also had two really awful experiences - one on Long Island at a senior citizens event where apparently many people had hearing problems and couldn't hear me. They kept interrupting my talk to say things like, "Speak up!" "We can't hear you!" "Can you talk louder, honey?" Afterwards many of them took the time to personally complain to me about the same thing.

The other awful memory was driving 300 miles to Rochester, N.Y., to talk at a bookstore, only to arrive just as a lake-effect blizzard began. Three people showed up. One was on crutches so I sent her home immediately. I later got completely lost in the snow, couldn't see out the car window, couldn't find my hotel, took the wrong exit on the highway ... etc. Kept thinking I would die in a blizzard in Rochester for nothing. So, that's why I'm only doing two bookstore appearances this time. But I'm hoping quality over quantity is a good thing.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Reading at Barnes & Noble

I'm reading from "13 Is the New 18" on Thur., Feb. 5, at 7:30 p.m. at the Barnes & Noble in Park Slope, Brooklyn, at Seventh Ave and Sixth St. (F train to Seventh Ave.)

The event is a benefit for Beacon High School, so any book you buy in the store, not just my book, counts. Just make sure you say 'bookfair' at the register.

Should be a lot of fun. Louise Crawford, who writes "Only the Blog Knows Brooklyn" http://www.otbkb.com and the Smartmom column for the Brooklyn paper, will be introducing me. I am a huge fan of Louise's. In the book, I quote from one of her columns: Her son, in elementary school, gets one of those writing assignments that all little boys hate -- "Write about a memory."

"But I don't have any memories!" he says.

Bless the little boys, for they live in the moment.

Hair

Last week I taped a segment of one of the network morning shows. I won't say which one just yet. till it airs, for fear of jinxing things.

I purposely went and got my hair cut a few days before, just for the show.

When you go on TV, they send you into a room with the touch-up ladies, and they always put a ton of makeup on, which always makes me feel like a ghoul, but OK. And they always have someone redo your hair too.

So the hair lady first tries to straighten my hair, which has never been done yet. Finally she gave up, but not after saying, "Been awhile since you cut your hair, huh?"

Um, actually I cut it three days ago but thanks for the insult!

Super Bowl dip

There are only two things about the Super Bowl that matter to me.

The half-time show, which I always love.

And onion soup mix chip dip, which I always make.

Most 21st century children have never had this dip, so they think you are the most marvelous magical being in all the world because you can rip open an envelope of salt and chemicals and stir it into a container of sour cream.

Maybe I'll serve Yodels for the Oscars.