Breathe in, breathe out

   Graduation ceremonies and gowns for VPK participants? You've got to be kidding me!
   I know in an earlier post I basked in my daughter's glow of her first poop in the pot, but we didn't turn it into some kind of conquest of Everest or anything.
   But yes, a couple of weeks back as my 3 year old and I arrived for her daily day-care shenanigans, we were beset by a sea of folding chairs, replete with a cacophony of parents and grandmas grappling with cameras and jostling for just the right position to capture the moment of joy capping the tot's mastery of SHOWING UP FOR SCHOOL.
   Good God, what's next? A gold star for successfully breathing?

Too much time, too little sense

   Well, South Korea has much to be proud of not the least the fastest broadband available nationally in the world.
   But with that speed comes consequences (there are always consequences for having the most or fastest of anything). The need for speed has turned some of the youngsters into addicts; crazed enough to earn their way into "boot camps" of sorts to shake the Web monkeys off their backs. As far back as 2007, South Korea knew it had a serious problem.
   "Inmates" at the Jump Up Internet Rescue School "are pushed over assault courses and learn to ride horses, as well as being given therapy workshops on more creative pursuits such as pottery and drumming.
   But the aim is not to wean them off drugs, alcohol or crime, but on their obsessive use of computers in a country with almost universal Internet access."
   In South Korea, where 90 per cent of homes have high-speed broadband connections and some online gameplayers have died from exhaustion after playing for days on end, police have found a new wrinkle in the virtual world or virtual worlders.
   According to CNN, police arrested the parents of a toddler who starved to death while the pair were glued to raising a virtual child online.
   The 3-month-old daughter was fed once a day between epic stretches in a local Internet cafe, where they were raising a virtual child in the fantasy role-playing game.
   Prius Online is a 3-D game in which players nurture an online companion, Anima, a young girl with mysterious powers who grows and increases her skills as the game progresses.
   Apparently the couple had lost their jobs and used the game as an escape from reality, especially after the birth of their premature baby.
   It may be wise to keep an eye on the people of the peninsula to see what might be coming down the road toward us.

"Can you hear me now?"

   It's always amused me in this country how, if something is deficient or problematic, that the solution always seems to hinge on 'more' of whatever.

   Years ago I was in a Frisch's restaurant taking in a breakfast buffet when I noticed the  sausage gravy tasted as though someone had dumped an ashtray into the mix. When I informed a waitress of the situation she replied, "Oh, well, we're about to bring out some more in a minute." More lousy food is not the solution. This concept, of course, was captured in the movie Annie Hall, where Woody Allen recounts one of his favorite jokes: Two women are sitting in a Catskill resort having lunch and the first one says, "The food here is terrible." The second one responds with, "I know, and such small portions."

   So it was no surprise really when wireless companies heard the wails from shell-shocked parents regarding their little heathens running up additional minutes on calling plans. From a marketing viewpoint the worst thing the companies wanted was to lose customers. Armed with the knowledge that American parents are loathe to rein in the children's' bad habits, gradually went to extended plans and finally "unlimited" plans.

   Is it me or is there something wrong with handing an adolescent a cell phone that has "unlimited" minutes?

  When have the words "children" and "unlimited" ever meant anything good?

   And let's not let scientific study get in the way of the temporary mollification of kids (Study Links Brain Cancer to Children Using Cell Phones) as long as 'more is better' in this country everybody feels they are getting a deal.

Twitter? Twitcher is more like it

  Amazing to me how little media attention was paid to this; perhaps the Information Biggies quietly backed out of the room when this item came across the desk.

  But to my surprise, it was the last story of Wednesday's ABC World News Tonight [now with Diane Sawyer {and I dunno, she seems a bit too cloying to the camera for me, I think the network is going to lose some viewers}].

   But the story in question regards the screamer from a Kaiser Family Foundation study entitled "Daily media use among children and teens up dramatically from five years ago."

  Here is the summary of what they found, under the subheading — Most Youth Say They Have No Rules About How Much Time They Can Spend With TV, Video Games, or Computers.

   "With technology allowing nearly 24-hour media access as children and teens go about their daily lives, the amount of time young people spend with entertainment media has risen dramatically, especially among minority youth ... 8-18 year-olds devote an average of 7 hours and 38 minutes (7:38) to using entertainment media across a typical day (more than 53 hours a week). And because they spend so much of that time ‘media multitasking’ (using more than one medium at a time), they actually manage to pack a total of 10 hours and 45 minutes (10:45) worth of media content into those 7½ hours.

  The amount of time spent with media increased by an hour and seventeen minutes a day over the past five years, from 6:21 in 2004 to 7:38 today. And because of media multitasking, the total amount of media content consumed during that period has increased from 8:33 in 2004 to 10:45 today."

   That's TEN HOURS AND 45 MINUTES in an instantaneous, unlimited technological whirlwind of consumption: constant stimulation which doesn't allow the mind to settle on one focused, uncluttered train of thought because it's crammed into 7½ hours.

  Okay, that leaves 16½ hours left in the cycle and let's be optimistic and say the child gets 8 hours of sleep, which leaves 8½ hours.

   Eight and one-half hours a day.

   Eight and one-half hours a day that needs to include: time in a classroom (and maybe I'm wrong, but doesn't a child in an American public school spend at least five hours a day in a classroom?); time for homework; time for meals; time for bathing and going to the bathroom; time for exercise (perhaps they are running with their iPods and watching TV at the same time); time for after-school activities such as sports or music lessons, etc.; time for housework, or cutting the lawn, or reintroducing themselves to their parents.

   This should have been the lead story for every news outlet, but then again, they're part of the problem.

A moving experience

   Being the first-time parents of a toddler presents all manner of thresholds to conquer and potty-training could possibly be the most-prized achievement.

   As the little one has stuck with us through a number of household moves to differing climates — not to mention the varied day-care that accompanies the migration — it's not really a surprise to have a bit of a struggle 'taking to the pot,' as it were.

   This past week we have indeed climbed that mountain, I'm speaking, of course, of my daughter's first 'poop in the pot,' a glorious achievement I had never thought to be as ... well ... moving.

   Such momentous was the occasion that a photo documenting the excretion had to be snapped. Exhorting the toddler not to 'touch anything,' I exited the room to snatch the camera and quickly return.

   As I composed the frame to capture the essence of the occasion, my daughter — in her infinite wisdom — peered into the pot and shouted "Say 'cheese,' poop!"

   {Given the literal nature of the achievement, you can understand the rather banal illustration that accompanies today's post as opposed to, well, you know ...}

   The child's thrill of achievement was surpassed only by mine (I mean, this is real progress) and we celebrated with the only at-hand snack for the triumphant: Nonni's Chocolate Decadence biscotti and some milk.

   I can't wait until the first time she kicks some boy's ass. Jeez, what a meal that's going to be.

God save the Queen (and the jam)

   For those unaware of the childrens' television industry, believe me when I tout the universal popularity of The Backyardigans.

   Hatched from the mind of a near-Pittsburgh native, The Backyardigans appeals to both parent and child (not like that relentless shoutfest Yo Gabba Gabba {even though DJ Lance is quite the dude}).

   The animations of suburban animals with urban names is witty and instructive, multicultural without the usual cloying PC preachiness and cranks out music you can dance to.

   The Backyardigans are so popular, in fact, that BBC editors in the United Kingdom only make minor changes to the dialogue in order to make it more palatable for the average snot-nosed Crumpet-Stuffer.

   [Okay. Fair enough. I mean {for instance} coming around to "knock you up" means totally different things in Britain than it does in the U.S.]

   The penultimate action of each Backyardigans episode is punctuated by the growling of one of the character's tummies and the ensuing invitation for a snack at somebody's house. Interestingly enough, the cultural aspect which receives the most attention from BBC editors is comestibles considering that — globally speaking — decent food is something the English seem to know very little about.

   Let's see if we can make sense of the Brits' snips.

   In the episode Horsing Around, the suggested snack of blueberry muffins is whacked from the soundtrack and changed to fresh fruit salad. [a healthier substitution. ok.]

   Jam seems a vital part of the UK diet.

   In the calypso-driven Cave Party, a snack of cinnamon toast at Pablo's house is apparently deemed too exotic for English children and thus changed to jam and toast, and in High Tea peanut butter and jelly is changed to peanut butter and jam.

   Thank God and the Queen that someone is protecting the tiny psyches of lily-livered limeys who no doubt would be irreparably scarred by the exposure to the utterance of "jelly."

   But the work is not done for the Protectors of Chinless Wonder Culture (do you suppose a committee handles this editing job?).

   In the episode entitled It's Great to Be a Ghost, the snack of apples is changed to peaches, and in Castaways applesauce is silenced for apple juice. [this is not a joke]

   I mean, does it come as any surprise that this prissy empire of Fog-Breathers has given us words like "ponce" and "pusillanimous"?

Can I get a doctor?

   I know it may seem I beat up on Toys "R" Us a bit too much, but when you overwhelm your competition to become the bully of the industry, you can expect some deficiencies to emerge.

  Let's take my most recent visit as I attempted to purchase a doctor's kit for my daughter (who had days earlier been strutting around with a make-believe thermometer declaring, "I'm a doctor").

  Mind you our nearest T"R"U establishment includes a Babies "R" Us, so the place is massive, I figured I'd need help locating the item.

  Though glad I grabbed a clerk to help locate the doctor's kit, I was disappointed (as was he) that we couldn't locate the item despite being instructed by someone {allegedly} more versed in the store's merchandising that it was located in the Imaginarium section.

   [Imaginarium used to be a great store that I used to go into before I even knew I was going to be a father: a vast array of items that made science more accessible to young minds {and dimmer one's such as mine}. Unfortunately the chain struggled and was apparently cannibalized in 1997 after a bankruptcy filing.]

   So the clerk and I searched through Project Runway designer sets; Barbie and her plethora of fashion trend accouterment; Dream Dazzlers chic salon stylist sets; Bratz dolls and their accouterment; Disney Princess dolls and their accouterment; LIV fashion dolls and their accouterment ... you get the picture, and could not find anything approaching a doctor's kit.

   I thanked him for 'helping' and continued to hunt for another product. Minutes later the clerk reappeared with another lead which proved fruitful: a few Fisher Price Doctor's kits located on the very back wall of the store!

  Thrilled to find exactly what I wanted, I still could not help but think — as I trudged past aisle after aisle of over-priced princess and World Wide Wrestling-themed junk — that it should be no surprise the as a nation we are getting our collective asses kicked by the rest of the globe.

  I guess most of the doctors' kits are in India.