Fearing for My Offspring
When is it, exactly, that parents lose their ‘cool’-ness?
As infants, toddlers, and young children, most kids think their folks hung the moon. I know I did.
You want to be with them all the time; you want to go where they go, do what they do, and be just like them. And when you can’t, your feelings get hurt.
So when does that change?
It’s probably during that ugly time known as ‘The Teen Years,’ or even the ‘Pre-Teen Years.’
Sure, the parental ‘cool’ factor comes back, but never as strong or with a deity-like worship.
But what if you never have that feeling about one - or both - of your parents? Are you then lacking some learned ‘awe’ factor? Are you unable to be awed or even awestruck?
I’m afraid my children will never feel that way. And it will be my fault.
Today, while meeting with a client - and the client’s customer - I said what is possibly the dorkiest thing possible.
We’re all sitting around the table, discussing the importance of search engine optimization and the ways to grow it organically.
So we move from code issues to keywords to regular updates to links to proper submission to - my uber-specialty – content. The discussion of content leads to the importance of things like… wait for it….
BLOGS!
Given my recent headlong dive into the blogging world, I sort of went off the deep end and started spouting off about how you could really dive down deep into the blogosphere and totally specialize in whatever it is they wanted to talk about, thus becoming an expert.
Of course I was really excited and talked for nearly 20 minutes about HowAboutTwo?. When I finally stopped for a breath and someone else could get a word in edgewise, they were pretty excited.
After a lot of discussion, we made a brief outline of a plan to get them going. They loved me. They thought I was astounding.
Then I opened my mouth.
I closed the discussion with the statement, I grok.
The great closing that was in my grasp became a painful silence with odd looks exchanged between the client and his customers.
Even after the explanation, the high of the previous moment was lost.
Yes, I am an idiot and my kids will know no awe of their father.
But there is still hope in their mother.
As infants, toddlers, and young children, most kids think their folks hung the moon. I know I did.
You want to be with them all the time; you want to go where they go, do what they do, and be just like them. And when you can’t, your feelings get hurt.
So when does that change?
It’s probably during that ugly time known as ‘The Teen Years,’ or even the ‘Pre-Teen Years.’
Sure, the parental ‘cool’ factor comes back, but never as strong or with a deity-like worship.
But what if you never have that feeling about one - or both - of your parents? Are you then lacking some learned ‘awe’ factor? Are you unable to be awed or even awestruck?
I’m afraid my children will never feel that way. And it will be my fault.
Today, while meeting with a client - and the client’s customer - I said what is possibly the dorkiest thing possible.
We’re all sitting around the table, discussing the importance of search engine optimization and the ways to grow it organically.
So we move from code issues to keywords to regular updates to links to proper submission to - my uber-specialty – content. The discussion of content leads to the importance of things like… wait for it….
BLOGS!
Given my recent headlong dive into the blogging world, I sort of went off the deep end and started spouting off about how you could really dive down deep into the blogosphere and totally specialize in whatever it is they wanted to talk about, thus becoming an expert.
Of course I was really excited and talked for nearly 20 minutes about HowAboutTwo?. When I finally stopped for a breath and someone else could get a word in edgewise, they were pretty excited.
After a lot of discussion, we made a brief outline of a plan to get them going. They loved me. They thought I was astounding.
Then I opened my mouth.
I closed the discussion with the statement, I grok.
The great closing that was in my grasp became a painful silence with odd looks exchanged between the client and his customers.
Even after the explanation, the high of the previous moment was lost.
Yes, I am an idiot and my kids will know no awe of their father.
But there is still hope in their mother.
posted by Rob Barron at 7:43 PM
3 comments
