La Junta - Our sketch comedy TV/web- series about a hapless parent council is now airing

Based on our original show, 'Parental Advisory', this sketch comedy series is a Spanish language version airing only in Colombia but some sketches will be available worldwide on Facebook and Instagram. Produced by LuloFilms and Canal Capital. 

I've been busy... PARENTAL ADVISORY, NSI TOTALLY TV, Phase II

For those of you who actually read this voluntarily I apologize for my prolonged absence - but I've been busy with this thing below. And just finished March Break which, as usual, involved the de riguer trip to the hospital. So read on and I'll post something new soon...

NSI TOTALLY TV, Phase II - Parental Advisory

Jaime Escallon-Buraglia (producer) and Christopher Stewart Sweeney (writer), Toronto, ON

After three intense days, our heads feel like over-packed suitcases that people are sitting on and trying to close so all the contents don’t go spilling out before we make it onto the plane to the Banff Media Festival. Let’s call those people Sam Linton [program advisor] and Shelly Tyler [program manager]. They have become our guides, our confidantes and our biggest supporters.[MORE]

http://www.nsi-canada.ca/2015/03/nsi-totally-television-phase-two-teams-on-their-second-bootcamp/

Parental Advisory Moves On To Phase II NSI Totally TV

 

Parental Advisory moves onto Phase Two of National Screen Institute - Totally Television

 

 

Jaime Escallon Buraglia (Producer) and Christopher Sweeney (Writer) of Parental Advisory
 

Very happy to move onto the next exciting phase of this well-regarded television development program. A workshop in March, followed by the Banff Television Festival and pitching Network executives. The grant will also help us develop the project and perhaps take a trip to L.A. to court backers.

This is a further development of our comedy series which began with our bravoFACT short Parental Advisory: Disciplinary Measures.

Friendship Advice

 

 

I was in the schoolyard yesterday chatting with one of my Mum friends when another of my Mum friends came up to talk to the first. Their youngest kids (SK age) are very good friends, except the first kid is a boy (let's call him "Albert") and the second kid a girl (let's call her "Frances"). It appears that "Frances" was quite upset because another boy refused to let her play with him and "Albert". "Girls are accluded!" he stated. So "Frances'" Mum asked "Albert'" Mum how they should handle it. "Frances's" best friends are boys and she was not ready to give up on the fun games boys play because of some bogus Kindergarten sexism, unlike her older sister at the same age. "Albert's" Mum replied that she would just tell the boys that "Frances" was not "accluded" and walked off to deal with the situation, leaving me and "Frances'" Mum to chat.

 

I started laughing because this reminded me so strongly of one of my favourite children's books, Best Friends For Frances, by Russell Hoban, one of the books in the fantastic Frances series. I love these books because they are smart, funny and really subversive. When Frances in the book is excluded from playing with her boy friend Albert she takes matters into her own hands in a wonderfully devious way. I recommended the book to my Mum friend.

 

I was further amused to notice that once "Frances" was inserted into the boys' game in the schoolyard the boys simply walked away leaving "Frances" on her own - though she quickly seemed to start playing with some other kids. No criticism of the parents at all - I'd be disgusted to hear my kids say similar things but we can't really make kids be friends or act in the ways we'd like unless we sit on the situation. That's why I liked how Frances in the book handled it - she created a situation where her Albert wanted to be friends and play with her and she made him see how it would feel to be excluded.

 

I doubt this book (or any of the other books for that matter which involve lying, running away, stealing, and threatened spankings - ah, the 60s...) would be published today as it puts forward less than acceptable ways of behaviour. But they seem so true to a kid's experience and make sense to kids in ways that our enlightened modern adult sensibilities do not.

 

It also made me think of growing up and when one boy would be excluded from a group and how we'd handle it. I leaned in towards "Frances" Mum and said,

 

"Do you want the real secret intel on how to make sure she's not excluded in the future from boys' games?"

 

"Sure," she said, a little curious.

 

"Next time some boy tells her that no girls are allowed, if she just gives him a really hard punch in the stomach and says, 'I don't think so.'" she'll be in like Flynn. They'll see her as handling things like a boy and thus an honourary member."

 

She looked amused, horrified yet still curious.

 

"Is that official parenting advice?"

 

"Oh, I'll deny it if asked - but it's true. Even if it's unacceptable. But it has to be a punch not a kick - girls kick and that will work against her." [This was said before I realized what a great post this would be.]

 

She looked uncertain about how to digest this. When "Albert's" Mum returned to the group she wished to know what we were talking about. I filled her in. She's the mother of 3 boys like myself, with "Albert" being the youngest. She laughed, a little shocked, BUT COMPLETELY AGREED.

 

Now before any of you get all exercised about violence not solving anything etc., I wasn't really advocating that she tell "Frances" to do this but on some level I think it's sad that we can't tell kids the truth about the way the world works. Namely, you have to sort jerks out yourself quickly and decisively in ways that are immediately responsive. Going to adults to solve this stuff just backfires - witness the dissolving game that "Frances" wanted in on.

 

Of course Russell Hoban provided a much more elegant and poetic (and non-violent) payback in his book but I still feel sometimes a punch in the stomach might be the right answer.



GONE IN A FLASH

World Cup Mania has struck our house.



Well, actually, World Cup Sticker mania has struck. My two youngest have the fever and have emptied piggy banks and sofas to gather change to buy stickers of a bunch of guys with bad haircuts from around the world.


The stickers are actually not too badly priced and I prefer them over Pokémon cards (pause to spit to the side in hatred) which, to my terror, made a brief reappearance in the schoolyard this spring. Is there the equivalent of WHO (World Health Organization) or CDC (Centre for Disease Control) that monitors outbreaks of new and virulent strains of Pokémon fever? Pokémon is indeed an example of evil genius cynically tapping into a boy's need and desire to acquire stuff and compile lists and taxonomies. Pokémon (which apparently is a derivation of Pocket Monsters - more like Pocketbook Monsters) can generate oodles of new and weird Pokémon, since they do not correspond to the real world.
At least World Cup stickers correspond to the real world and actual achievements. It has even had some spillover benefits - they have gained a greater understanding of world geography and know the flags of dozens of nations. So that's cool - even though soccer itself leaves me cold (unless my boys are playing at which point I become VERY invested in it).


This is the background to my youngest demanding to go to the corner store and buy yet more stickers with his allowance. (Here, by the way, is why I believe in allowance - I do not have to constantly justify why I won't buy piles of useless crap for them - they have their own money to do so and if they blow it all they can repent their folly at leisure.  They must be responsible for themselves and their own decisions. It has worked well with my eldest - he has become almost as stingy as I am. Oh, the tears of pride when I overhear him scoffing at his younger brothers, "Why would you WASTE you money on that stuff?" Sniff.)


So, the  6 year old is jumping up and down wanting to go to the store and I say, "Sure." I just have to go downstairs to put something away first. However, when I get back upstairs to take him to the store HE IS GONE. I mean totally disappeared. I yell for him throughout the house and outside. I run to the corner to look the two blocks to the store. No sign of him. There is no way he could run that fast.
I run back and check with some neighbours to make sure he isn't playing in their backyard. Nope. I see a Mum I know coming from the other direction (where there is another, inferior, corner store). Has she seen any of my kids going that way? "No? Do you need some help?" I start running to the first corner store. He must be there. But how could he disappear so fast and so completely?


As I approach the store, the door opens and out comes my beaming boy, his fists stuffed with sticker packs and followed shortly after by convenience store owner looking around - in my guilt and paranoia, I believe for the negligent parent who let their little kid go buy stuff on their own. The relief. The fear! The anger! I manage to calm myself down and not overreact.


"Buddy! What are you doing? I didn't know where you were."


"But you said I could get stickers with my money."


"Yes, but with me. Not on your own."


"You didn't say I couldn't."


Here I was hoisted by my own petard  - me: big talker about generating autonomy and independence; casually bragging my kids walk to school on their own; giving them their own grocery lists to help with the shopping; insisting they pack and carry their own sports equipment bags etc. I used to walk to school and back starting in Grade One, Downtown Toronto, half hour walk, crossing major streets etc. Rolling my eyes at newsletters from school which warn against kids younger than 10 being allowed to cross the street on their own - 'they lack the capacity, maturity'. Ridiculous. How are they supposed to develop those qualities?


Busted. Because clearly how can I only demand independence when I approve it. Contradictory, ennit? So, mental regroup.


"But I haven't ever let you go before on your own. You always go with your older brothers."


Looked at me. What was my problem exactly? I had to confess.


"I was scared."


He laughed.


Then saw I was serious. And he was confused. Over that? As he should be. Mission accomplished. I have another independent confident big boy.


But it went so fast...

BREAKING (DOWN) DAD

I’m partway through watching Breaking Bad (just started  Season Four, so no spoilers!) and LOVE IT. Does it have anything to do with the protagonist being a hapless, disappointed midlife white male who’s losing his hair? Or that he then turns his life around and becomes a master of his own destiny and a thorough bad-ass? No! Why would I identify with that? Sheesh. It is because of its satirical take on extreme capitalism and the death of the American Dream, of course. Actually, it probably has to do with what I think the show is really about: what it means to be a MAN.

For those of you who’ve been  living in a gimp-chest, Breaking Bad is about Walter White, an emasculated high school chemistry teacher who is diagnosed with terminal cancer. This causes a series of reactions – the primary being a boiling over of rage at his wasted life and the compromises that have brought him to the point where he is going to die, leaving his family unprovided for. He makes the fateful decision to “cook” crystal meth as a way of making vast amounts of money in a short time and, critically, he does it by harnessing his untapped brilliance and skills at chemistry. It is a perfect match - he is doing something only he can do and, by doing it, he is providing for his family. The dilemma is that it must be a secret activity since it is illegal and he doesn’t want his family to know and lose respect for him. This is what Walt craves more than anything – respect, both external and internal. And these sources of respect  are at constant war.

Walt alternates between self-hatred at what he has become and pride in his accomplishments. He also de facto gains another son in Jesse Pinkman, a failed former high school student of his, who becomes his partner in crime. The difference in his behaviour to Jesse and to his real son is striking – not just because he is so verbally abusive to Jesse but because in a weird way he is a different, real, unmediated self with Jesse. There’s no filter. He bullies an berates Jesse as he aims to instruct him in the way of being a “man”, something he rarely displays with his real son (who suffers from cerebral palsy) and whom he clearly loves but is forced to treat gently.( It’s also amazing how throughout the whole process Jesse always refers to Walt as “Mr. White”, a reflection of his past as Jesse’s teacher and currently another kind of teacher and father-figure. Damn, this show is good).

I wonder if other dads also struggle with being their “best” self with their sons and telling them all the “right” things to do and say while part of them wants to just be themselves and tell them the ugly “truth” about the way the world is and how to survive and thrive in it.  Or is that just me and Walt? For the record, I do not cook meth; I have chosen the much better paid profession of freelance writing.

It drives Walt crazy that his son (Walter White Jr.)  idolizes his DEA agent uncle and disregards Walt’s ‘coolness’. Junior loves his dad’s gentle, honest and caring ways but is clearly infatuated with the life of danger and excitement and rawness his uncle seems to have. Every father wants to be a hero to his son. Walt struggles with wanting his son to know what he has done for him with fears that his son would not understand, it would not be appropriate to tell him and that he would in fact revile Walt. Can one be a hero to your son if he knows your secret worst self or must you be someone else to your son in order for them to respect you? And if you’re not your real self what are you teaching them?

These thoughts – that Breaking Bad is essentially a meditation through a fun house mirror on what it means to be a man in a world which no longer values typical male attributes – were justified in one late season 3 conversation  Walt has with his boss, Gustavo Fring, who is trying to talk Walter into continuing with his drug career. Gus hones in on this tension within Walter – his need for respect and his need to do something he is good at competing with his need to provide for his family. Gus scoffs at Walter’s need for his son to know what he has done for the family and for his respect. Gus tells Walt that his job AS A MAN is to do what he must do for his family even though he will get no respect or thanks or recognition. That in fact is part of what is a truly manly man – one who does his duty without hope of recognition or praise because it is right. Damn, old school.

Mind you, in Walt’s case it is a truly twisted application of this creed but there is something satisfying in Walt’s pursuit of his own way of being a man. He does many things that are wrong and have unhappy consequences for those he loves. He lies, kills, and creates a drug which destroys lives (but only the finest purest product, Walt always respects the chemistry) – how is it we (or at least I) still like this guy? He begs and bargains for his life and that of his family throughout the series but, while there is clearly some self-preservation going on, he is convinced it always has to do with saving his family (which includes Jesse Pinkman). It is a clever move of Gus, as well, because, like most people, Walt’s motivations are not pure – there is still a great deal of pride in what motivates him. I can see that this pride and the increasingly dangerous game he is playing will put these two fathers within Walt into increasing conflict.

So no easy summation here – this is partly what makes BB such a great show. I am fascinated to see how Walt, like so many of us, negotiates the various pulls on him in his quest to be, if not a good man, then a good father. And what is that anyway? Man, I could write about this show forever. Futher thoughts on this follow at some later date.

LAUNCH PAD

If you want your kids to fly, you have to show them how.

Most parents are hypocrites - myself included. And I'm OK with that. In fact, I often argue that if I wasn't an insufferable hypocrite what would force my children to quit my home in disgust when they reach their late teens or early twenties?

I want them packing their bags saying to themselves, "Well, at least I won't be like that guy. I'll set up my own house much better." I know I had such thoughts and now I wonder if my parents hadn't a similar plan in mind when I was a kid.

"Failure to launch" was not an option offered me and I don't plan on presenting that to my boys either. I don't buy this argument it's so much harder for kids today. Compared to who? Kids coming of age in the Depression, WWI or WWII? Please. They don't have it as good as the Boomers but no one else did either.

I'm pretty sure NASA doesn't rely on the astronauts to push the launch button - they gotta have an override switch over at Mission Control.

"Space Cadet, could you please initiate launch sequence?"

"Houston. I think we're going to need to abort this launch."

"Come again, Space Cadet. I don't copy."

"Well, I was just thinking, why do I want to go to Mars anyway? I mean some of the other astronauts are taking a year or two off to find themselves before blasting off. Buzz is going to clown school in France. Flash is going to work on her wake boarding - she thinks she has a shot in competition this year."

"Uh huh. And how are they managing all this?"

"They are saving their money, staying at their Mission Controls..."

"I see. Initiating launch in 5.. 4..."

"But... What's going on? You can't make me go to Mars!"

"3... 2... Actually, I can. Contact!"

Maybe this is why NASA has moved to Robot Rovers.

We tell our kids lots of stuff that we don't or would never do ourselves. Share. Apologize. Go into new situation and make new friends. Ignore what their peers are doing and follow their own desires (which often coincidentally just happen to be what we want them to do). Etc. Some of this is just necessary and aspirational - we want them to be better than us, do the things we didn't have the courage or foresight to do, take advantage of opportunities we feel have passed us by.

Every so often, though, you get called on this. I was reminded of this recently when visiting friends in Chicago. We went to a local pool which had a dive tower. My eldest was literally jumping with excitement and was crushed to find out that he had to wait until it opened. I was secretly relieved. Not because I was worried about his jumping off the tower (he'd done it at camp before) but because I would be expected to go off it too.

I'm the father of three boys. When you come down to it it is a very testosterone heavy environment around here. To maintain my alpha dog status I have to be prepared to do what they do or lose any natural authority. So once the tower opened and my son was in line he immediately looked over for me and waved me to join the group. I indicated I would be there soon - just watching the other boys swimming. Right. I looked over occasionally and I saw one girl at the top pacing back and forth like a caged beast, to the edge, looking over and then back to the ladder, waving kid after kid ahead of her. On the pool deck siblings and her father were calling out to her to jump jump jump. She couldn't do it. At one point her father lined up at the ladder, presumably to encourage her (or throw her off the edge) but then all of a sudden he wasn't lined up any more. Had he lost his nerve?

So I lined up behind my son who had already gone numerous times. When I made it to the top she was still there. She waved my son ahead. He disappeared over the edge with a whoop. I tried to get her to go for it. Her siblings and dad were still below yelling at her. She still couldn't do it and waved me on. It was time.

I knew better than to hesitate or look over the edge. A cut short summer job as a house painter convinced me that heights and I weren't simpatico. So I ran and jumped over the edge. My first thought - "My, that's far down." My second? "Whoo hoo!" I swam to the edge and quickly lined up again.

Occasionally following your own hypocritical advice can be a good idea.