I admit I had given it a thought when he was born but the reality hit me a couple of years ago. We went outside to wander the backyard. As I walked I put my hands in my pockets. I glanced down and saw him studying me intently. He looked down at his own pants, located his pockets and promptly jammed his hands in. It was an epiphany. I started watching the boy and saw how he studied and copied me. He wanted to be near me. To do what Papa did and go where Papa went. I started taking the job very seriously.
I grew up in a time when cartoons were very un PC. Anvils were dropped on heads, explosions could blow one to the moon and falls off a cliff resulted in body shaped holes in the desert floor. All shown uncut and without guilt or shame. Modern cartoons are pretty different. The DO monitors what the kids watch and does a very good job of steering them away from the worst of the brain washing. Still, I thought it was my task to introduce the boy to a cartoon that was manly.
I should point out here that I am still very much a kid at heart. I love good cartoons and even have a list I read online every day. You can see some of them to the right in the Warrior Roll. For TV I still love the classic Roadrunner, Bugs Bunny and the like. But there's one that's near and dear to my heart.
I love me some Johnny Quest. When I was a kid I envied Johnny but wanted to grow up to be Race Bannon. Race was all man. He could whip anyone in a straight up fight and usually had a firearm close to hand. He wasn't afraid to use it either. He regularly killed or otherwise caused the death of particularly evil Bad Guys or their Henchmen. Boat, explosion, firearm, tar pit, bridge or cliff, many a monster (both human and inhuman) met their fate at the hands of Race. Johnny, Dr. Quest and Hadji even got in on the action from time to time. The deaths were invariably met with steely resolve and honesty. No guilt or chest beating about the miscreant's childhood or how it was all society's fault. "He got what he deserved Johnny." "There was nothing we could do Johnny." "It was his choice Johnny." Johnny was taught that choices have consequences, that right would always triumph and that justice and defense of self and the defenseless were worth fighting and even killing for.
We have a cable channel that has been playing classic Johnny Quest cartoons. Not the later, politically correct toons but the original, first year episodes. They were on at 4:30 in the afternoon. I took the opportunity to introduce my grandson to what I consider one of the best cartoons American TV has ever produced. The quality is well short of modern but the messages are timeless and uniquely American. They teach self defense, hard work, staying calm in a crisis, the benefits of technology, overcoming difficult odds and situations, friendship, family, conduct and even responsible animal ownership. Bandit the dog went everywhere Johnny went and Johnny learned to trust, care for and protect his canine companion.
Every afternoon we'd sit on Papa's chair and watch together. Where possible, we never missed an episode. Time I cherish, spent with a grandson I love more than my life and a fun part of my job as his grandfather.
A small thing without a doubt. There is so much more I have to teach him. I am acutely aware that he's watching me, soaking in what I do, what I say, how I carry myself and interact with others. He has questions he doesn't even know to ask. Knowledge he needs but isn't yet aware of consciously. But he does instinctively know that I have at least some of his answers and he's determined to get them from me. As I am determined to give them to him. To the best of my ability. I bought the classic Johnny Quest episodes on DVD. I'll be sending them to him in the next package. I even bought a set for me. The next time we visit, whether he comes to us or we to him, he and I will sit again and watch together. We will bond as only grandfather and grandson can. Lore master and pupil. Man and apprentice. And I will attempt to teach my beloved boy the lessons he needs to be the man I know he can be.
The journey continues even as the circle draws inexorably closer to it's completion.
Six
8 comments:
Great post sir. I feel it is tougher being a child today than it was when I was growing up years ago.
LOVED that cartoon!! (And Clutch Cargo with the funky real lips talkin'...)
It was a serious man's world sort of show. SO glad you stumbled on a fantastic way to entertain and educate!
Thanks guys. I have to say I'm tickled pink that the grandson has taken to it. Gives me great hope for the future. Anything that helps break the natural barriers between generations and teaches good lessons is a very good thing.
A wonderful post it is! And all too true! Good begets good and we older folk need to lead the way and show 'em how it's done, done right, and why we do it (or at least try to do it) the right way, with each and every effort we put forth! Again, a wonderful post LOOONG TIME!!!
Thanks Gene. There must be some up side to getting old.
I came over from Jaded Haven. You might be interested in reading an old post at Grim's Hall: Social Harmony.
The key excerpt:
"Very nearly all the violence that plagues, rather than protects, society is the work of young males between the ages of fourteen and thirty. A substantial amount of the violence that protects rather than plagues society is performed by other members of the same group. The reasons for this predisposition are generally rooted in biology, which is to say that they are not going anywhere, in spite of the current fashion that suggests doping half the young with Ritalin.
The question is how to move these young men from the first group (violent and predatory) into the second (violent, but protective). This is to ask: what is the difference between a street gang and the Marine Corps, or a thug and a policeman? In every case, we see that the good youths are guided and disciplined by old men."
Thank you for doing your job excellently!
Kevin, that is the nicest thing someone has said to me in a long time. Thanks for that, I really appreciate it.
I’ve threatened to buy some Johnny Quest for my grandson. One too many “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle!” (a philosphy I don’t have any problem with, but the obvious indoctrination is a bit unnerving at 2 years old I think) spewing out of Bob the Builder and “everyone is best” coming from Thomas the Train.
My best friend, back in college, noticed what you noticed and wrote a short story about it that is legendary in our small group of friends, involving a mild mannered boy who has to watch The Smurfs but really wants to watch Johnny Quest. His parents leave to run an errand or something, and the channel automatically changes back to the Smurfs from Johnny Quest — and the Smurfs start talking to him, picking a fight. They eventually pop out of the TV and come after him with blue oozies. Anything they hit turns blue and becomes Smurfified. The boy runs to his parents’ room, at first hiding but then finding his father’s rifle or shotgun (can’t remember which. Shotgun would be more entertaining) and proceeds to go through the house slaughtering the Smurfs.
My buddy is very graphic in what I like to call an extremely organic way. :-) If you were bugged by the Smurfs, this story was cathartic to say the least.
At the end of the story, the dog, who used to fart at the boy on purpose, suddenly has a new respect for him, and the story closes with his parents coming home to a house with big blue splatters all over it and the boy calmly watching Johnny Quest.
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