"It's a major award!"

Ralphie's dad exclaimed this when he received the legendary Leg Lamp in "A Christmas Story." The old man was bursting with pride at his major award. Well, that's how I felt the other day when Alex's teacher told me that Alex would be receiving an award at the school's monthly assembly. She told me that Bethany and I should come see he win his award and that it was a surprise. You can imagine the excitement I felt. Would it be a 50" tall plastic leg lamp complete with fishnet stockings that Alex would receive? I doubted it, but still I was giddy with anticipation. When each day that you pick your child up from school you expect the teacher to tell you about the latest way that he has found to get himself into trouble , it comes as a welcome surprise to learn that he has been noticed doing something right.

So, yesterday at breakfast I asked Alex what he would be doing at school that day and he said they were having an assembly. He didn't know about his award, but he said parents usually come to these things and that he wished we could, too. We told him we would try, but no promises. Bethany took him to the bus stop and he went on to school thinking that we wouldn't show up. But when he walked into the gym/cafeteria/auditorium his face lit up as he saw Mommy & Daddy sitting in the audience.

After some excruciatingly boring readings by some second graders, Mr. Salmons, the principal introduced all of the special award winners for the month. Two or three kids from each class received recognition for something, including our son. "...For demonstrating excellence in both reading and writing, Alex Naughton." (Hold your applause till everone's name has been read.)

Reading and writing! Who knew how to write all his letters before he was even four years old? Who started reading Dr. Seuss books at that tender age? Who taught him how to write while doing that "stay at home dad" thing? Who has the best mommy in the world because she reads to him every night before bed? A major award indeed. Only he didn't receive a magnificent (if not profane) lamp. He won a pencil. A really cool pencil that says "Superstar" on it.

Oh yeah, when his name and achievement were announced, Alex wasn't paying attention. His teacher had to tap him on the shoulder and tell him to go up front. It wasn't until Bethany picked him up at the end of the day that he finally learned what he had been rewarded for.

You Wouldn't Hit a Man With Glasses...

I have held a Bachelor's degree in philosophy for almost 10 years now. Finally, I look the part. Glasses really do make people look smarter, don't you think? I already looked dead sexy, so there's no difference there.

I will deny till the death that there is any resemblance between myself and my dear brother Blake. I have more hair.

With age comes Wisdom...

...Wisdom teeth, that is. In a year in which I have had every square inch of my body checked out from my prostate to my heart to my eyes, it appears that a long overdue visit to the dentist may be in order. One of my wisdom teeth has decided to make an appearance after 35 years of stage fright. The problem is that the curtain to its stage is only half-way open, allowing part of the shy tooth to remain hidden from view. In other words, the gum that has sheltered the reclusive tooth all of these years is not cooperating.

The pain I have been in for the past week or so has been about as unpleasant as you might expect. Thank goodness for Advil, Tylenol, and the like. Pain relievers are but a temporary solution however and I am making mental plans to visit a dentist soon. It will take some mental preparation because it has been 15 years since I last sat in the Chair of Despair. On that occasion, I had a tooth pulled by a dentist who never even bothered to introduce himself. To this day I have no idea what his name was. After his assistant did all the x-rays and such, he simply strolled in and started yanking on my tooth. After struggling for a few minutes, he uttered an "Oops!" followed by a "Where'd it go?" I felt the extracted bicuspid trying to seek refuge in the back of my throat and promptly coughed it up for the befuddled doctor. He laughed a relieved laugh and said "There it is." Then he left the room, never to be seen again.

For almost a full year afterward, I had a hole in my gum that specialized in trapping partially masticated foods. I also had a collections agent harass me after my mommy's insurance company refused to pay the bill (without bothering to inform anyone.) So I had sworn off dentists- until now. Diligent brushing, over the counter tooth whitening, and occasional flossing can only go so far. Only Tom Hanks' character in Castaway is capable of removing a problem wisdom tooth without the aid of a dentist and a morphine drip. (I sure as Hell won't be using the blade of an ice skate like he did.) It seems that I will have to "man-up" and make an appointment with a professional soon.

How ironic that only two months ago, Bethany asked if I wanted to be added to her dental insurance. After a decade and a half of self reliance and dental independence, I said "No."
Socrates was once called "the wisest man in the world" by one of his followers. He replied that true wisdom comes from one's ability to admit that he doesn't know anything. I'm feeling pretty wise lately. I guess that's why they're called "wisdom teeth."