A Growing Ease and Confidence

Early last Saturday evening the phone rang and I was the one to answer the phone, “Hello.”
“Hi Mr. Askins. Is Philip there?” It was Craig.

“Philip isn’t here at the moment Craig. Are you calling to see if he would want to get together with you to do something tonight?”

“Uh yeah. But that’s OK if he’s not in tonight.”

“Philip is not here, but I think he’d be interested in getting together. He’s down at the Cambodian Barbeque with Joshua and his sister Debbie. We’re headed down there right now. There’s a live band. I don’t know if you have been there before but you can get a small Gelato inexpensively. I’m sure Philip would love to have you join him. You can talk about doing something afterwards.”

“Uh, sure. Maybe I’ll go down there then.” And the two of us politely exchanged our good-byes.
The Cambodian Barbeque opened in Hermes just as the recession was gaining stride. The restaurant and its owners have defied the odds with great food, great prices, great ambiance and solid customer service. They now have live music every Friday and Saturday evening which draws enough of a crowd and the associated business to well offset the cost. As far as location goes, they are in a strip mall half way between the town’s two largest office parks and they share a nice lunchtime business with a local pizza chain, a Mexican restaurant, a Wendy’s, a fancy Japanese restaurant and an upscale grocery store. Their Gelato offering competes nicely with a frozen yogurt shop and a Starbucks in the same strip mall which is walking distance from Hermes High School.

When Amelia and I arrived at the Cambodian Barbeque with Chloe, we saw Craig had arrived ahead of us and had joined Philip, Joshua and Debbie at a four seat table. This was the first time since Philip’s birthday party I had witnessed Craig in a teen social setting that was larger than just Craig and Philip. At Philip’s birthday party four months earlier I had observed Craig failing to navigate any relationship but the one he enjoyed with Philip, and I had been concerned that Craig and Philip’s friendship might not survive the transition to high school as a result.

But four months maturation had clearly been kind to Craig. He had an ease and confidence I had not witnessed in him before. Even Joshua’s thirteen-year-old sister Debbie seemed perfectly comfortable sharing the dinner table with Craig—though admittedly Debbie lived under the same roof with Joshua and was accustomed to Joshua’s early adolescent antics. In my mind, Debbie’s acceptance of Craig was the truest indicator of Craig’s maturation.

It was a dramatic change. Craig wasn’t positioning to control the conversation, needing to outdo Joshua’s one-liners or sulking when others were getting more attention. Debbie and the three young guys talked about movies, music, video games, sports and who knows what else. For the four of them, the adult world of everyone else at the restaurant must have seemed like a grey blur and a dull roar of white noise. They were completely focused upon one another and enjoyed trading their various stories and opinions.

Once the four had finished eating, they left their table and went for a walk around the strip mall. As the live music set was drawing to a close, Philip came up to me and asked if he could invite both Craig and Joshua to sleep over at the house that night. Amelia and I accepted. A few mobile phone calls later, all the arrangements had been made.

As the rest of the house settled down for the night, Philip, Craig and Joshua moved around from Youtube, the Wii and the Roku. When I said goodnight to them, they had settled down to watch a movie on the Roku. They looked so comfortable hanging out together. Craig looked especially comfortable.

There was a growing ease and comfort that hadn’t been there only four months ago, and I was very, very happy for Craig’s sake. I’m now certain Philip and Craig’s friendship will survive the transition to high school.

Once We Knew, It Was No Big Deal

I remember almost nothing about the woman I'd never seen before or since. I have no memory of the conversation she had with my mother or the location it all took place. I only remember that immediately afterwards my mother and I got into her car to head home. Once the car doors were closed and my mother and I were effectively alone under the cone of silence, she turned the ignition and said matter-of-factly, "By the way, in case you did not notice, that woman was not wearing a bra."

I was perhaps the age Philip is now. I didn't think it was any big deal that some adult woman I did not know was not wearing a bra. And since my mother did not have anything else to say on the topic, it seemed my mother did not think it was a big deal either. Perhaps my mother disapproved of the fashion statement. If so, her disapproval was only mild.

Regardless, my mother had imparted knowledge I later appreciated having—not regarding the woman who had been speaking with my mother that day, but regarding other women (particularly my teenage gal-peers) whose torsos did not reflect the culturally normative dual torpedo look. I had once wondered whether they had some developmental abnormality. From that day onward, I knew there was no developmental abnormality. It became no big deal. It was at most an earthy fashion statement.

Fast forward to this past Saturday. Amelia and I helped our son Philip host a neighborhood teen social. Included among the guests was a teenage girl we barely knew from five doors down named Veronica. Veronica brought her best friend Heidi along. Veronica and Heidi proved to be perfect guests for Philip's teen social. They were fun, chatty and they were neither shy toward nor overtly interested in their guy-peers at the party, all of whom they were meeting for the very first time that evening. Veronica was tall, commanding and mildly athletic-looking. Heidi was more intellectual in her demeanor. She wore wire-rimmed glasses, and sported particularly fair skin, eyes and hair.

While refilling the bowl of chips some time in the middle of the party I noticed something else about Heidi I had not seen with any of Philip's gal-peers before. Heidi was not wearing a bra. Heidi’s choice of attire was consistent with her very earthy temperament and the realization was no big deal for me. By the time I returned to the other room to resume chatting with the other parent chaperones, I had already forgotten about Heidi’s earthy fashion statement. But some time the next day I did remember. And with that memory followed the memory of what my mother had said to me matter-of-factly years ago. I quickly concluded I owed Philip nothing less.

So on Sunday night, I invited Philip to go for a walk with me. We’ve gone for quite a number of enjoyable walks together during recent evenings, so my invitation was not a source of concern to Philip. But once we were alone on our walk I told him I wanted to have one of those father-son chats but that he had nothing to worry about. “In fact,” I said, “once we’re done, what we will have talked about will be no big deal.”

I began by telling Philip the story about my mother and the lady I barely remember. Once he understood the story and how I’d initially thought there was some developmental abnormality, I then told him that Heidi had not been wearing a bra and that was what a gal’s torso looks like when she is not wearing a bra. “Dad! I didn’t exactly eye her up and down last night,” he retorted.

“Of course you didn’t,” I replied. “And I didn’t eye her up and down either. I merely noticed. The next time you see Heidi, she probably won’t be wearing a bra then either. So after a quick glance, you’ll remember this talk and you’ll understand what you see. After that, it will always be no big deal.”
“Alright,” he quipped. “As long as you understand it is no big deal, dad.” And with that I knew Philip understood.

The First Teen Dance of the Summer

The hour-long dance lesson was over, and the first song of the evening was about to play. Along the edge of the dance floor, teenage girls in their favorite dresses stood tall and still. Most of the teenage girls stood in clusters speaking with one another in hushed voices. With only one exception, the teenage boys milled about with their hands in their pockets scanning the girls at the edge of the dance floor. Finally the first song began. The majority of the teenage boys immediately engaged and walked briskly toward one of the teenage girls along the edge of the dance floor. Seeing the success of their peers, the rest of the teenage boys milling about each in turn cautiously approached one of the remaining teenage girls still standing at the edge of the dance floor and found himself a dance partner.

The exception among the boys was my son Philip. He was seated in a corner chair at the very edge of the dance floor. He slowly drank down a bottled water and allowed each of the teenage boys who had been milling about to secure a dance partner. As a chaperone for the dance I watched from a distance wondering what Philip was doing. Or more specifically I wondered why he was sitting in a corner drinking from a water bottle while the rest of the boys were securing partners for the first dance. But I also realized that the gender ratio of roughly five girls for every four boys would operate in Philip’s favor no matter how long he delayed. He finished his water in one fast gulp and then stood up.

There were perhaps twelve teenage girls standing without a dance partner. These twelve remaining teenage girls deserve to be described. They were not the twelve least attractive teenage girls in the room. Instead they were the twelve most intimidating teenage girls in the room. On average they were taller. They had noticeably more refined muscle tone. None had over-applied her makeup. Their dresses were feminine and well fitting but neither girlish nor overly revealing. There was no evidence of hair product. About half had their hair pulled back with a simple barrette or ponytail tie. If there was any bashful eagerness, each kept it well hid. They stood with a quiet confidence appearing unconcerned about being passed over for the first dance of the evening. One of the twelve looked particularly intimidating. I imagined her being captain of the varsity volleyball team.

Philip seemed to have done a complete reversal. But I soon expected it was all by design. With all the other teenage boys enjoying their first dance of the evening, Philip approached the volleyball captain who was perhaps two years his senior. “Hi. I’m Philip. Would you like to dance?”

I couldn’t lip-read her response. But the volleyball captain followed Philip a few yards onto the dance floor and the two began dancing The Swing. She was perhaps three inches taller than Philip. The look on her face revealed little while the two were dancing. I imagined she was feeling a mixture of disappointment at the age and height of her dance partner and relief that she was not passed over for the first dance. Philip attempted to engage her and she politely answered his standard questions about where she lived, where she went to school and her favorite activities. But she generally stared past him rather than maintaining eye contact.

Soon the first dance was over. Philip and the volleyball captain walked to the edge of the dance floor, thanked one another for the dance, and went their separate ways. Philip grabbed a fresh water bottle and returned to his seat as the second dance began. He repeated the same pattern for several dances. At the beginning of each dance, he would wait patiently for the edge of the dance floor to be substantially cleared. Then he would approach the most intimidating looking girl he had not yet danced with and invited her to dance. Philip always found agreement. Each successive dance partner proved less impassive and more engaging than the previous.

From the middle to the end of the evening, Philip was mainly dancing with the girls whose age and height more closely matched his own. By then even the most awkward teenage girls were comfortable carrying a conversation with Philip and their other dance partners. For most of the teenagers present and especially for Philip, the dance was not about finding romance. It was about developing social confidence and expanding one’s comfort zone. Philip had taken a unique and effective approach that showed both caution and boldness. It seemed to work for him. And as far as I could tell he had fun doing it.

As I’ve reflected on what I observed during the first teen dance of the summer, I’ve come to respect how differently Philip conducted himself in comparison to me at that same age. When it was me as a teenager on the dance floor many years ago, I was merely milling about with my hands in my pockets.