THE MONOLOGUE SYNDROME

Syndrome almost falls prey to that classic villain weakness - Monologuing - a critical weakness of fathers, as well.

There are many reasons to watch The Incredibles - not the least among them the hilarious and doomed Syndrome. Syndrome almost falls for that old hero trick - monologuing. You're familiar with it, I'm sure: the villain has the hero right where he wants him - tied to a log in a lumber mill, suspended over a pool of mutated electric eels, or his private parts coated with honey and him staked out on a bulldog anthill in Australia etc. - but the hero plays on the vanity, insecurity or grievances of the villain to get him to start talking at length. Meanwhile, the hero extricates himself or waits until rescued by his sidekick.

Flip the switch already. Monologuing will be your downfall.

Why? Why? Why do villains continue to fall for this? (Some might make sly comments how we can see in real time how cartoonish ego-maniacal bullies, even after achieving world domination, can't keep their big mouths shut. They just love to hear themselves talk. Some might, not me.) I can't speak for villains as I never graduated from the academy - I dropped out to go to law school instead - but I can speak for fathers to say it is an almost irresistible urge to monologue when you have your child as a captive audience.

I was talking with my good friend about this. He was tutoring a kid with a successful, ambitious, well-spoken father. The conversation among the three of them about how the son could thrive was totally hi-jacked by the dad going on at length about something in-my-day something grit something stick-with-it-ness something ambition. Bored, my friend's attention and eyes wandered to the son in question and saw the light in his eyes flicker and die as he went to his safe place. He realized with sick horror that,"Oh my god, that's me. I do that with my kids." And he resolved to change his ways. By the way, this is a real friend, not just me talking about myself. Although, I'm guilty of this as well.

Your kids, at least your boys, have a very limited amount of time and attention available to you. When delivering a message or advice or instructions, think of it as if you're leaving a voice mail message. If you go on too long you get cut off before you even get to your point. If you want to communicate something to your kid, take a moment, think about what you really want to say. Cut that in half. And then in half again. Can you say it in one pithy sentence? Maybe an enigmatic faux-zen koan? Like:

Keep it short, like Yoda

Try to be quotable, or at least memorable, for godssake.

This is especially applicable to teens. Your ranting is likely as ineffective with your younger kids but the teens will actively demonstrate their disengagement and eye-roll right over you.

Lately I'm taking a hostage-extraction approach:

1) Consider best entry;
2) Plan exit strategy ahead of time;
3) Quickly enter, perform mission (in this case advice delivery);
4) Exit immediately,:and
5) Stick to the mission!

Whatever you do, don't try and have the last word. Don't fall for it. I've seen too many good men lost that way.

And there were wolves...

Do you know how there are inside pets and outside pets? Some animals are content to spend their days snoozing on the carpet where others need acres of open space in which to run until their tongues hang out a foot or so. I can say that my boys are outside animals. They are like Irish Setters which, if not run into the ground on a daily basis, are insane beasts which chew up your furniture and drive you as crazy as they are. As a result, I run those dogs into the ground at every opportunity. I never fail to marvel how they can run and jump and climb at top speed for hours at a time. HOURS.

This has had a not surpising effect - while in the short term it tires them out, long term they have become fast, strong and challenge-seeking kids who crave more of the same. Through small increments, they now engage in play behaviours that I never thought I'd be comfortable with. However, at each stage they prove they are capable of taking that next step so who am I to interfere? They love to climb climbers (but on the outside of them or on top of the railings, on top of the covered slides etc.), trees, telephone poles and guywires. My 7 year old's favourite activity is to climb to the top of our shed and read comic books up there. Every so often I encounter people who have not attained this level of Zen parenting.

This Saturday I took my kids to the school playground to tire them out before dinner and brought a bag of sports equipment. I was throwing the football with my 10 year old while the younger two roared around on the playground equipment. I was a little surprised when a new father (he had a one year old with him) came up to me and said to me somewhat agitatedly, "You should be careful." I was unsure what he was talking about and that must of been clear on my face so he went on, "You should be careful - they're jumping off the equipment."

"OK thank you," I said, which is parent code for "@#$% off."

He went on, "No, I'm serious. It's really high. It's like 5 feet high."

I looked over and just at that moment my 5 year old leapt from the platform down 5 feet to the sand. He stumbled, wobbled, limped for a second or two and then raced off to do it again. "It's OK thanks. They've done it before."

New Dad was in disbelief, I think, at my casual neglect but just at that moment a guy in his sixties walked his dog through the playground and cracked, "When we were kids, we jumped 10 feet and got up and kept on playing".

Though I was totally with The Codger on this point, I could see that this did not go over well with New Dad and so, in an effort to lighten the situation, I added, "And there were wolves..."

That didn't help. New Dad, peeved, spun around with his one year old cradled protectively in his arms and snarled, "Yeah yeah you were all real men, I know."

To which the codger replied, "No, we were kids."

New Dad, storming off, yelled back over his shoulder, "Exactly!"

Exactly? Hmm. Not sure New Dad got the best comeback there. Now, I can barely remember that time - being the new dad with the little baby and hyper aware of any possible threat to my son and heir. So while I forgive him his inexperience I think even back then I MAY have balked at offering parenting advice to someone with three healthy children older than my own. One thing I have learned through benevolent neglect, is that my kids are capable of doing way more than I thought they could or that I ever would.

Maybe New Dad will someday discover that. And discover how much he will appreciate unsolicted parenting advice. And that he can smile and say "OK thank you" and mean something quite different.