1.21.09
Here’s the set-up: I was giving Claire a ride to dance class, and we were listening to Fresh Air on NPR. Terry Gross was interviewing a guy named Rivers Cuomo, who’s the lead singer of the rock band Weezer. I have never heard of Rivers Cuomo, but maybe, possibly I have heard of Weezer. Maybe. Not sure. But of course Claire — being 15 — was totally in the know about Weezer, and could confirm to me that it’s spelled Weezer and not Wheezer.
Anyway, this Cuomo gent (who was most thoughtful, articulate, and interesting) was talking about how even though he’s now in a rock band, he was heavily into classical music — even opera — when he was a student at Harvard in the ’90s and even in more recent years. (Yes, if I caught it correctly, he went to Harvard, then dropped out, then went back later, after he was famous, to finish his degree.) When he mentioned classical music and opera, I pointed at Claire, as if to say, “See? Even rockers can like classical music,” which she thinks is borrrrrrrrrrrring.
After I dropped her off, I continued to listen to the interview and then popped into PDQ for my evening cup of decaf. I walked through the door, mulling over what Cuomo had been saying, and that’s when it hit me: it’s okay that Rivers Cuomo likes classical music, opera, and rock. It’s also okay that I have never heard of Rivers Cuomo. It’s okay that I listen only to NPR news and classical music on the radio. It’s okay that I so thoroughly checked out of popular culture right about the time Sean was born that I get seriously stomped every time we play the ’90s edition of Trivial Pursuit. It’s okay that I like cheap PDQ coffee. It’s okay that I wear all black, all the time. It’s okay that I’m quite good at a few things but do many others either poorly or not at all. It’s okay that I throw like a girl. (And don’t cut me any slack here because I’m a female and therefore should throw like a girl — the truth is that I should able to throw like a woman, not a girl.)
But what does any of this have to do with Sean and my role as the parent of a first-year Badger? My point — and I do have one — is my wish for him: that he discovers much earlier than I did that it’s okay to be who you are. (Who else could you be, after all?) It’s okay to do what you do, and like what you like, and be good at what you’re good at, and really stink up the place at what you’re not good at. (In my defense, I did come to this realization — and took on the ’tude necessary to carry it off properly — right about the time I turned 40, but it’s still a powerful lesson to rediscover now and then.)
And in Sean’s defense, I think he actually is way ahead of me in the “I like myself just fine the way I am, thank you very much” game. He dresses in a somewhat unorthodox fashion compared to many of his peers — and loves it. He also loves opera and ballroom dancing and is doing his best to keep chivalry alive. I’m very proud that he’s being himself. Now we both just wish that the perfect girl would come along to appreciate it all...