The Mentor/Discipleship thing is a thing of beauty.

The entire excerpt is found on espn.com, http://sports.espn.go.com/nba/playoffs/2009/columns/story?columnist=adande_ja&page=KobePhil-090615. 

“Maybe we need to start a new theme: Kobe Bryant can’t win a championship without Phil Jackson.

The great irony of Bryant’s drive for independence from Shaquille O’Neal was that it reinforced the philosophy that you can’t do it on your own. Everyone needs help, and the method for Bryant to acquire the greatest individual reward of his career — the 2009 NBA Finals MVP trophy — was to buy into the wisdom of his coach and former nemesis. In turn, the final steps of Bryant’s evolution allowed Jackson to stand alone as the coach with the most championships in the history of the league.

Over the five years during Jackson’s first stint as Bryant’s coach, the two had grown as distant as California and Maine. Jackson asked management to trade the young star. And when it looked like Jackson wouldn’t be back after the 2003-04 season, Bryant’s response was “I don’t care.”

Contrast that to the lovefest of recent days, when Bryant said, “I’ve been spoiled my whole career playing with Phil. It’s hard to imagine playing for anyone else, obviously. I grew up with him.”

Jackson praised Bryant’s growth, recalling a conversation they had early in Bryant’s career after yet another game in which the ascending star got caught up in his own agenda, this time a one-on-one battle with Vince Carter in Toronto:

“I talked to him a little bit about leadership and the quality and his ability to be a leader, and he said, ‘I’m ready to be a captain right now.’ And I said, ‘But no one is ready to follow you.’

“In those eight years that have ensued from that period, he’s learned how to become a leader in a way in which people want to follow him, and I think that’s really important for him to have learned that, because he knew that he had to give to get back in return. And so he’s become a giver rather than just a guy that’s a demanding leader, and that’s been great for him and great to watch.”

How did they get to this point? They had to reach the bottom first.

Jackson has always been about encouraging a path of self-discovery for his players, that there was education to be found in defeat just as well as in victory. He has demonstrated that he’s willing to lose a regular-season game to prove a greater point. During the tumultuous 2003-04 campaign, with the Kobe-Shaq feud having surpassed the point of being reconcilable and Jackson’s own future with the team in jeopardy, Derek Fisher wondered aloud whether Jackson would be willing to sacrifice the entire season to teach a lasting lesson.

The Lakers had more ammunition than ever before, with Gary Payton and Karl Malone joining O’Neal and Bryant, yet the older players were agitated by Bryant’s frequent ventures into the Kobe Zone, where he’d try to do everything on his own. Jackson, wary of encroaching on Bryant while his young star dealt with his sexual assault case in Colorado, never reined Kobe in. He didn’t do much of anything, really, while the team finally collapsed under its own weight during a five-game NBA Finals loss to the Detroit Pistons.

“I think it taught all of us a lot about the fact that you can’t just put guys on a team and think that you’re going to win just because guys have accomplished certain things in their careers,” Fisher recalled, five years later. “Which is why it’s always been weird to me that Phil’s always been questioned about how good a coach he was. Because if it was just about talent we would have won a championship that year. There has to be a willingness to believe.”

Jackson was gone within a week of the last game of the 2004 Finals. Within half a season the next year, Bryant and the Lakers would come to appreciate what they’d lost. It turned out the triangle offense, which Bryant had often found restrictive, was the best fit for him. Instead of placing him in the middle of the court, where double-teams could easily trap him, the triangle isolated him on the wing. So after the team floundered under Rudy Tomjanovich, he stepped aside as coach during the first year of his five-year contract. Jackson was off visiting former Bulls center Luc Longley in Australia when the news broke, and when a Los Angeles Times reporter reached him by e-mail, Jackson replied that he was having a good time body-surfing … and would consider coming back to the Lakers.

This time Jackson got his terms — an eight-figure salary — and a more compliant Bryant, who had tried it his way and failed. Jackson allowed Bryant a year of indulgence, shooting at will and averaging 35 points a game, because the team wasn’t ready to contend for a championship anyway. But after Fisher returned and Andrew Bynum improved and Pau Gasol arrived, the rules changed. Bryant went from demanding a trade to winning a Most Valuable Player award — still in a Lakers jersey.

Hit the TiVo forward button a couple of times to get to Sunday night. In the quarter that delivered the championship — when the Lakers outscored the Orlando Magic 30-18 in the second period of Game 5 — Bryant scored only four points. And yet his imprint was all over the turnaround from a six-point deficit to a 12-point lead, as the Lakers put on a showcase of offensive efficiency and unyielding defense. He was setting up his teammates and he was driving them as well, exhorting them as they seized their opportunity to drive a stake through the Magic’s heart.

Everyone on the court looked like a star, and this brings up something that Bryant and Jackson don’t receive enough credit for: Players are at their best when they hook up with them. Look at Trevor Ariza, a bit player in New York and Orlando, now a valuable starter on a championship team. Shannon Brown, a throw-in during the money-saving trade of Vladimir Radmanovic to Charlotte, gave the Lakers some productive playoff minutes. Smush Parker averaged more than 11 points per game in his two seasons with the Lakers, then was out of the league two years after he left them. 

 What’s it like to be around one of the best coach-player combinations ever?

“You find yourself almost in awe sometimes,” said Brown, who was a Bulls fan growing up in Chicago. “When I first got here, it was like, this is one of the guys I grew up watching, coach six championships, where I’m from. I’m like, that’s Phil Jackson, man. Then I look at Kobe, he’s got three of them [rings] back to back to back, one of the greatest to ever touch the ball. And I get to learn from them.

“I’ve learned determination, confidence, just to seize the moment. It’s stuff you already know, but when you get with a combination like that, it boosts it a little bit.”

So many other Lakers were boosted in these Finals, with two strong finishing performances from Ariza, a shot for the ages by Fisher, and a demonstration of Gasol’s skills, which Lamar Odom said rank “up there with the best post players ever.”

Late in Game 5, Orlando called a 20-second timeout and the Lakers gathered by the bench, high-fiving and hugging. Jackson stood back and smiled like a proud parent. He doesn’t spend a lot of time in the huddles in the first place, usually strategizing with his assistants before stepping in at the last minute to deliver instructions. This time he never joined them, allowing them to have their moment to themselves.

After the game Jackson would have a unique encounter: a handshake with Bill Russell, the only other former player and head coach with a double-digit championship ring collection. It was a brief exchange, no doubt iced by Russell’s affinity for his coach, the late Red Auerbach, whom Jackson had just relegated to second place on the list of NBA championship coaches.

As Jackson went to the stage for the trophy presentation I asked his agent, Todd Musburger, if this would be the last time we’d see Jackson on an NBA court. Jackson, 63, has a year and $12 million left on his contract, but a variety of physical ailments have made the job more difficult. And at this point what’s left to accomplish? So is this it?

“No,” Musburger said. “We’ve had a number of discussions about what he’d do, win or lose. He didn’t want to leave under either scenario.”

Jackson has yet to give official confirmation that he is returning. Bryant can opt out of his contract as well, although Saturday he gave his strongest hint yet that he doesn’t plan on leaving the Lakers even if he does opt out. Things can always change in the NBA.

One of Jackson’s strongest themes is to stay in the moment and Sunday was theirs. Bryant said he lured Jackson into the team huddle in the locker room so they could douse him with champagne, the victors’ bathing ritual that the aging coach had avoided after his more recent championships.

The players wanted him to be a part of it.

“He took his glasses off, threw his head back and soaked it all in,” Bryant said. “Because this is a special time … and for us to be the team that got him that 10th championship, that historic 10th championship, is special for us.”

They locked in a tight embrace, the vast gap that once existed between them now completely erased. Sometimes dependence can feel pretty good.”

Self

I have to warn you, before you read this.  I just read a book, “A Child Called It”, and I’m really disturbed by it.  So the following is probably going to be deep, but dark.  Depressing, even.  I don’t do posts like this, normally.  But this is “one of those times”.  Read at your own discretion.  And if you have some problem with cussing, I doubly recommend you to not read it.  Cause then not only will you be depressed, but you will be angry with me that I used a cuss word.  One final warning is that when I get like this, I get really caught up in the moment and probably get too extreme.  Oh well.

We live in a bubble, all of us.  A bubble of comfort that is lavished upon us abundantly, overwhelming us with myriads of toys and tricks and games and gimmicks that have one singular purpose: keep us focused on self.  Self, that singular word, that individual entity that dominates our existence.  Self, the motivating force by which we justify all that we do in life whether consciously or subconsciously.  We need to look after self.  To take care of self.  To promote, to help, to grow, to nourish, to support, to feed our self.  All the while, we become blinded, a chosen ignorance that embraces the blessings with smiles and laughter and joy, and shuns the discomforts with disgust and a sigh of sympathy.  Our form of recompense is tied up in money and gifts, and rarely, oh so rarely, paid through a giving of self.  There are few who give self away.  But those legends are so far and in between.  6 Billion people, a few is not enough.

A man drives by the largest concentration of homeless people in America…

…his method of salvation is slipping a half eaten sandwich outside the window of his expensive Mercedes Benz to one of the passerbys.  Good thing none of the mayonaise from the sandwich dropped on his car.  That might have been pretty expensive, more than self had planned to commit to help the helpless self!

How about this.  A woman is beaten, raped, murdered in an alley late at night.  Many selves are watching, hearing, fearing.  If they call, what will happen to me?  What if he comes and kills me?  Someone else, some selfless self will definitely be the one to make the call.  This is a matter that this self cannot be tied up in; I have too much of myself to worry about!  So no one calls.  Everyone thinks the other will, and in the end, the girl dies.  Two hours in the alley, slowly bleeding, blood dripping, dying.  She’s crying.  But the selves have turned away.  They’re right.  The self is probably too important to risk a little. 

Movies stir us.  Tears of pity often leave us, make us wonder, make us shudder.  Such a harsh world: God bless America!  Whole countries are dying, but God bless America!  War’s are lurking, children soldiers.  Nine years old here, loved in school.  Nine years old there, loved in whore houses.  Little ones make more than olds: better for the economy of the trade.  Innocense lost, left beaten and dead.  Justice’s iron fist is just a dream, an evanescent image…fading…

They hope.  They pray. 

Silence.

One last story to read, and sigh, and then forget.  Five years old, trapped in her home.  Basement prison, raped and beaten.  Bearing her father’s children.  So damned dark, it haunts her still.  Her source of saftey, security, ruined.  Her protector nothing but a demented pervert.  Just imagine…

Meanwhile, all of us continue to be tied up in our obligations, to our self.  Our 2.5 kids.  Our picture perfect life, with a white picket fence, flowers and baseball at the park.  “Nothing wrong with feeding self,” the self says, and smiles with jubilant satisfaction at appeasing the guilt of self with every form of justification known to man.  “What can one person do,” the self victoriously boasts.  An admirable argument, indeed.  Then we proceed to use the guise of prayer, to compensate for self.  “God will take care of it,” we assuredly say.  I agree.  But what part will you play?

Even now, it’s a sad reality.  As I’m writing, these words are filled with hypocrisy.  This is as much to you as it is to me.  Isn’t that sad?  That even those who have such thoughts, are nothing but phonies, feeling pretty damned sorry, but often so lazy, so worried, so damned fucking tied up in self? 

I’m sick and tired of self.

Aren’t you?

Movie Fest

I don’t think I’d normally do a post like this.  However, with the realization that I’ve very little else to do besides work endless and stupid hours while running my own business in a turmoil and hectic economy, I figure writing something to get everyone pumped up and excited for the month of May (there are a plethora of amazing movies coming out) might be a semi-decent use of my time.  So with that let me give you a list of the top 5 movies that I am absolutely excited for this coming May.  This is going to be a GREAT MONTH for movies, and I absolutely need to spread my enthusiasm for the awesomeness of this month. 

#5: Battle for Terra, May 1st

Now I know that this is a probably one of those “sleeper” movies that not too many people are going to know about because until I watched Monsters vs. Aliens (which was an all around pretty good movie) even I had no idea about this one.  However, Battle for Terra promises to be not only a great 3d experience (which, btw, the 3d movies I’ve been watching lately have been doing a TERRIFIC job of optimizing that once negligible feature) but also a great storyline: humanity is on the brink of destruction because we are running out of oxygen, so in order to stay alive we must invade another planet and take over their world.  This is a very interesting movie idea, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony and role reversal the film is trying to achieve.  I mean, it’s definitely going to beat the hell out of recent “alien movies” that have come out like Indian Jones 4 and The Knowing.  Honestly, whoever decided to throw aliens into the plot of Indian Jones 4 and The Knowing deserves to be SHOT. 

#4. X-Men Origins, May 1st

Okay honestly, the previews for this movie looked ABSOLUTELY STUPID.  Okay, I just watched it again and NEVERMIND IT LOOKS AWESOME.  I thought at first it might be overdone, like wayyyyy too much effort (Think Matrix 2 and 3…fail).  However, surprisingly it has been holding up VERY well in Rotten Tomatoes.  And because Rotten Tomatoes is basically my “movie bible”, I believe everything it says, no questions asked.  The way I generally look at it, if either the critics or the user reviews are over 70%, it’s going to be a pretty good movie.  X-Men Origins, with six votes so far, is a sparkling 100%.  I’m sure that’ll drop to somewhere around the 70-80% mark, but I still think this movie overall will be solid.  It’s definitely not a “sure-fire” lock for a great movie, but I think it’s going to be worth watching.  If I were you, I’d keep an eye out on Rotten Tomatoes and see how it fares once most of the critics have seen it.  As for me, I’m probably going to catch this one on opening day because…well…I’m a loser with no life and friends and only my mom and sister to hang out with.  Woe is me.

#3. Star Trek, May 8th

OKAY.  I AM NOT A BIG TREKKIE.  As much of a nerd as I am, I HAVE NOT degraded myself to so low a level that I will endorse the Star Trek franchise, or learn everything there is to know about William Shatner and pee myself everytime I see him on TV.  No, I do not salivate over the thought of meeting him.  HOWEVER, after watching this trailer and seeing the early reviews, I HAVE GOT TO SAY THAT I AM COMPLETELY STOKED for Star Trek.  JJ Abrams seriously pimped out the Star Trek series and I seriously think this one is going to be as exciting and revitalizing to the franchise as Batman Begins was to the Batman Franchise.  Pretty soon, I’m going to have to go to Star Trek conventions in my Star Trek suit, be forty years old and still living with my mom without a wife, and believe that UFO’s really are going to invade and take over the earth one day.  The fall is big for those who get sucked into the Star Trek world. 

#2. Up, May 29th

Okay, the 1 and 2 spot were VERY tough for me.  Pixar has got to be one of the best movie companies of all time.  Their work is AMAZINGLY solid, with many of their films probably in my top twenty films of all time.  Monster’s Inc is seriously AMAZING.  However, as funny as this fat little kid looks like he will be, NO ONE CAN BEAT Boo from Monster’s INC.  SHE IS THE BEST EVEN THOUGH SHE DOES NOTHING THAT IS FUNNY AT ALL.  With Pixar, they’ve set the bar SOO high on other movies that it seems almost impossible that they can make a movie better than some of the previous ones that they have made.  I think currently my list of “favorites” is:

1. Monster’s Inc, 2. Ratatouille, 3. The Incredibles, 4. Toy Story 1-2, 5. Finding Nemo, 6. Wall-E, 7. Cars, 8. Bug’s Life

When such a quality movie like Finding Nemo is in fifth place, you know you’ve made some pretty freaking damn good movies.  Kudos to Pixar and especially Steve Jobs who has done an amazing job with both Apple and Pixar.  It will be a very sad day when you die, man.  Good thing I’m a PC guy.

#1. Terminator Salvation, May 21st

DAMN.  DAMN.  HOLY FREAKING DAMN.  ARE YOU NOT EXCITED!?  DID YOU NOT JUST WATCH THE SAME TRAILER I JUST WATCHED?  OMG!!!  FINALLY A TERMINATOR MOVIE WITHOUT FREAKING ARNOLD.  It’s been a LONG TIME COMING.  Christian Bale is such a stud, besides his ungodly cussing rampage on set, HE IS THE MAN.  “IF WE STAY THE COURSE.  WE ARE DEAD.  WE ARE ALLLL DEAD!”  DAYUM!!!! 

What a stud.  If I had a girlfriend and she left me for Christian Bale I’d forgive her BECAUSE I KNOW THE LADDER THEORY.  Although.  I’m pretty sure Christian Bale’s not really into the “imaginary girl” thing.  I swear Mr. Bale, if you could see her you’d think she’s hot too…

Now…to go make friends I can watch the movies with that aren’t invisible to everyone but myself.

Twenty – Four

If you have this song, it might be good to play it while reading this post.

Twenty four oceans
Twenty four skies
Twenty four failures
Twenty four tries
Twenty four finds me
In twenty-fourth place
Twenty four drop outs
At the end of the day
Life is not what I thought it was
Twenty four hours ago

Still I’m singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
And I’m not who I thought I was twenty four hours ago
Still I’m singing Spirit take me up in arms with You

Twenty four reasons to admit that I’m wrong
With all my excuses still twenty four strong

See I’m not copping out not copping out not copping out
When You’re raising the dead in me
Oh, oh I am the second man
Oh, oh I am the second man now
Oh, oh I am the second man now

And You’re raising these twenty four voices
With twenty four hearts
With all of my symphonies
In twenty four parts
But I want to be one today
Centered and true

I’m singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
You’re raising the dead in me
Oh, oh I am the second man
Oh, oh I am the second man now
Oh, oh I am the second man now
And You’re raising the dead in me

I want to see miracles, see the world change
Wrestled the angel, for more than a name
For more than a feeling
For more than a cause
I’m singing Spirit take me up in arms with You
And You’re raising the dead in me

Listening to this song, every time, stirs something up in my spirit.  I am actually not quite sure why–for the longest time, I didn’t even understand what the words really implied.  I just knew that there was something really heartfelt and meaningful behind them.  So I began to ask myself the question, what does it all mean?  Why is this song so riveting if I know so little about it?

I started researching a little about the song.  Here’s an interesting fact: Jon Foreman wrote this song on the eve of his 24th birthday.  That’s going to help a lot in the interpretation…

So here it is, an interpretation (this is my own, whereas I am sure of some parts, I am taking a lot of guesses on many sections of the song so feel free to disagree): 

Twenty-four years have gone by in Jon Foreman’s life, and he’s experienced the different “seasons” of life depicted by the “skies” and the “oceans”.  Basically, that imagery is used by Jon to capture the essence of twenty-four tumultuous and difficult years of life.  Within that, he’s realizing (after twenty-four years of life), that each year has been the root of so many failures; that although he’s trying his best to be perfect in everything, he’s always falling short.  He’s had “twenty four” tries at life, and every year, he’s come up short and missed the mark.

Furthermore, after twenty-four years of life, he’s in “twenty-fourth” place, which is an expression of feeling inferior and just completely down and lost in this world of hardship and anxiety.  He feels like after all his efforts, the only thing that his work has netted him is a spot that not even comes close to first.  It’s almost like a feeling of “man, after all these years what have I even accomplished?  What have I even done?”  This same feeling is furthered by the “twenty four drop outs”, showing that he hasn’t finished so many things that he had intended to do.

This line of thinking culminates on the “life is not what I thought it was”, meaning that in his youth (twenty-four hours ago), he was under the naive impression that life would work out exactly like he had thought it would.  However, he was confronted with reality: that life often doesn’t work how you want it to.  Even though you try and struggle through life, so often we find ourselves on the other side of where we wanted to be. 

Yet…even in that, Foreman utters the prayers of his heart, that the “Spirit” (God) would take him up in his arms.  That even though life has been chaotic, and that life has been hard, there’s something so sweet about the embrace of God that just brings a sense of peace and comfort into his life.  Foreman feels that although it’s rough and although it’s hard, he wants to run after the one thing, the one place where he knows he has sanctuary.  God.

He then goes into a slight verse refrain, where he states “twenty four reasons to admit that I’m wrong”.  During this phase, he’s basically confessing to God that he knows he hasn’t done well in this life.  He knows he hasn’t done all that he’s supposed to yet, and that he’s still so imperfect.  However…

“I’m not coping out”, is a declaration of his heart’s intent to never “give up” and to never surrender, especially when God is “raising the dead in him”.  That even though he’s fallen short, he knows that God is still doing his work in him, and that he’s not going to give up and he’s not going to let go of his faith in Him.  He knows that God is changing Him still, and that although he has his insecurities and fears, that he’ll be made complete and find his ability to keep on going and persevering through God.

Which leads to his next assertion, “I am the second man”.  This is a declaration that he’s submitting to God, that he’s the “second man” and God is the “first man”.  That God is the one leading, and that Jon is simply trying to do his best to follow the lead.

Following this is “twenty four voices”.  This part was a little bit more tricky to understand, but the way that I interpreted it is that God is taking him through all these experiences and all these things in life and raising up “24 voices with 24 hearts”.  All of these are a hodgepodge of experiences that are screaming into the life of Jon, and that are singing out of him.  They are not BAD, per say, but they are a collection of hurts, difficulties, and tons of situations that have been flooding his life and helped to grow and mature Jon.  However, he wants to be “one today”, “centered and true”.  This is a powerful assertion: it’s a request, a beseeching of God on Jon’s part to bring him under ONE authority, under ONE voice.  That everything else in his life would drown out but the voice of God, the only voice that matters.  The only truth that matters.  He wants to be centered in God.

Finally, it goes into “I want to see miracles”.  This part is the final request that Jon makes to God, in this prayer/song.  Jon wants to experience God and wants the world to experience Him.  He wants “more than just a feeling”, “more than just a cause”.  In fact, when he wrestles with God, he wants more than “just a name”.  Basically, Jon is asking that he wants his interaction and relationship with God to be so true, and so right.  That it’s MORE than just what traditional Christianity has taught us to accept about our relationship with God.  He wants authenticity, something so powerful and real that it completely changes his life and the lives of the people around Him…

And yet, even though Jon hasn’t figured it out quite yet.  Even though life is not perfect yet.   Even though he’s failed, and will probably fail millions of times from here on out…

“Spirit, take me up in arms with You”.

Santa Claus

Disclaimer: If you believe in Santa Claus this is probably not the post for you to read.  Hahaha.  And, also, I have decided to restart the series I started earlier before it was abruptly halted because of controversy.  My reason?   I live far enough away from UCLA now to not have to face the consequences of controversial things I say.  Chyea!

When I was a little boy, my parents tried for one Christmas to convince me that Santa Claus is truly real.  They had never really “talked” about him, but because I had heard about him at school, I decided that I would investigate the truth of these alleged claims that all my little third grade friends would tell me.  “Last year, I got EVERYTHING I WANTED FROM SANTA!”  Imagine the joy and excitement on my face at the prospect of there, yes, TRULY being a Santa that EXISTS!  And not only that…then wtf?  Where the hell were all my presents?  I figured that in order to GET the presents you first had to believe, cause one of my third grade friends convinced me that that is the way that it works.  Well, damn then, I believe!  Now give me my freaking Transformers!  My Legos (THE BEST TOYS EVER)!  My G.I. Joes!

I was a greedy little kid, damnit!  There is this hilarious story of me when I was a little kid where I would cry and cry at the parking lot of my apartment complex when I was like 3-4 years old because I wanted to stay there and play.  In order to “persuade” me to come back into my apartment, my parents would literally leave a trail of my toys on the stairway up.  I would, in turn, enticed by the sparkly toys that I had grown to love so dearly, pick up toy by toy while slowly being tricked back into the prison of my home.  You tricky parents you!!!

On a completely random side note, one time when I was a little kid one of my friends at the preschool told me that one of the best things I could do is pee down the slide.  I was a freaking pre schooler, and to me, that sounded like an excellent idea.  So there I was, a young impressionable little boy on top of the slide smiling with the joys and thrills that any little impressionable boy may sport, and out comes my pre-school wanger on the top of the slide, and then a definite steady stream of bright yellow urine coating the slide for any future slide-patrons to thoroughly enjoy.  Unfortunately, my great plan to make the slide that much more enjoyable for the next person to ride it was thwarted by the yard lady who caught me in the act.  Damn those yard ladies.

Anyways, back to the point.  Armed with a new sense of purpose, and the desire to get my newly minted limited edition G.I. Joe, I decided to ask my parents those tough questions about life.  “Mom, Dad, is there really a Santa Claus?”  With a very suspicious uncertainty, my mom with good and pure intent, shyly asserted “Yes.  Santa Claus very real.”

“Then it is true that he comes down the Chimney?”

“Oh yes, Chimney, yes.”

“…but…we don’t have a chimney.”

The sudden realization dawned on me, and I was suddenly very depressed as a third grader to realize that SANTA will not be able to visit my tiny little apartment without a chimney.  Oh shucks.  My mother, realizing her mistake, made some sort of weird excuse about this or that, but the damage had already been done.  Santa wouldn’t be coming to my house that night.  But then, I couldn’t help but think (I was a complicated third grader who thinks too much…and now I am a complicated twenty-five year old who thinks too much…my how time has changed everything) all the pictures I see of Santa are freaking FAT.  How the hell would he fit down a chimney neways?

So then, because Santa wouldn’t be able to visit my apartment, my parents decided that instead of pretending and hiding presents, they would instead just take us to Wal-Mart every year at Christmas and have us pick anything we wanted.  And so died the dream, the hope, the illusion of Santa.  And Wal-Mart happily filled the void.

However, this kind of got me thinking a little bit.  Is it worth pretending and telling your kids that Santa Claus is real?  For those of you guys who know me, you will know that I am a realist.  Those of you who know me superficially neways.  The people who really know me know that I am a realist on the outside but an idealist at heart.  FOR INSTANCE, I know in my heart of hearts that I will never ever win the lottery.  But…secretly…oh man how I wish and hope and pray and beseech God to bless me with the money.  One time, I told my mother that I really believed I was going to win the lottery.  With that, my mom without even flinching replied in turn…”Yea, me too.  And so far it’s been forty years, and I still haven’t won.”

Talk about a dream killer.

But honestly, is the myth of Santa really worth telling your kids about?  You know one of my favorite scenes in the movie Enchanted, is where the father is giving her daughter a “gift”, that is, a book about successful women in the past.  He is convinced that she will love this book, and instead of giving her what she really wants, he arms her with the “realistic” stuff, shrugging aside her daughters hopes for fairy tales and things of the like.  During that part of that ridiculously superfluous movie (which, although I hate on it I have to say was fairly well made), I was applauding cause FINALLY this little child’s impressionable mind would be set free from thinking about such proposterous hopes.  HAH.  There is no princess, suckah.  And no dragons.  And no witches with a poison apple.  They lied!  THEY ALL LIED!  EMBRACE THE CYNICALNESS NOW!  I am that father who is going to tell her daughter that she cannot be an astronaut because statistically, it is impossible and that she needs to aim for something more realistic like being a pharmacist, or an optomestrist, or an engineer, or a lawyer, or a doctor, or an accountant.  (I just described every asian family in the world).

You want dreams?  What better dream, little girl, than the prospect of slicing the brain of someone who’s dying to try and save them!  Or how about crunching numbers at a desk all day.  OR BETTER YET.  You get to SHOOT air into people’s eyes while they are getting an eye check and watch them squirm in embarrassment because they are freaking out in anticipiation of that ungodly “burst” of air that will soon be annoyingly shot into their eye.  I HATE THAT SHOT OF AIR.  Why the hell do they need it!?  They are EVIL.  Optometrists are EVIL!!!

Seriously though, what if you tell your little daughter or son that Santa Claus IS real, but you are poor.  So here is this little boy or girl, trying with all their might to be the best little boy or girl they can possibly be (because their mothers and fathers told them that if they are good, then Santa will give them anything they want), only to find out that at Christmas…they get a hand knitted Christmas sweater that their mothers (out of good intent) crafted them.  “I didn’t ask for a damned sweater,” the little kid thinks.  While all the other kids got to be evil and pee down slides, I didn’t commit that evil act and I only get a damned sweater!?  WTF?  Meanwhile, the “bully of the school” who constantly peed down the slide and picks on you all day because you are short (SOB) with rich parents is walking around with his brand new limited edition x-ray goggles which have a 25% chance of giving kids cancer but who cares cause everything gives you cancer neways so might as well!   “I want x-ray goggles damnit.  Santa sucks!’  Talk about a traumatic experience!

Futhermore, what happens when, at the mall, the “fake” Santa Claus (who your child dearly believes is real), walks outside to “get a smoke”.  Imagine the look of shock on your child’s face, when she/he suddenly realizes that Santa is an EVIL MAN who smokes.  Or maybe she/he STARTS smoking because they see their role model chain smoking.  I swear, in two years we’re going to see ciagarettes ads with a big, fat, jolly old Santa Claus lighting up a cigarette.  This would be genius!  What better way to kill thousands of people, slyly, than to have a big picture of Santa Claus smoking everywhere!

All this with the reality that, to be honest, your kid will inevitably find out that you were LYING about Santa, and that infact he is NOT real, and when that day comes they will hate you for lying to them.  In one of my debate classes, the “prompt” for the week was to debate whether or not Santa Claus is real.  The class was consisted of a bunch of fifth to sixth graders.  Being concerned that some of these kids may actually believe in Santa, I asked coyly, “So, who here believes in Santa?”  Immediately, 5 hands shot straight up.  “Oh you foolish little idiots,” I thought.  JUST WAIT TILL THIS CLASS IS DONE AND WE’LL SEE IF YOU STILL BELIEVE!  I then proceeded to enlighten my young and ignorant little flock while many of them burst out into tears at the realization that they won’t be getting what they wanted for Christmas, and it does not matter how good they are because Santa isn’t alive.   Just kidding.  I wasn’t going to be the one to tell them he’s not real, so instead we decided to debate about whether dogs or cats are real.  Yes…what a wonderful debate topic.  It’s so one sided.  Cats suck.  (The fury of cat lovers are going to be riddled in my comments section).

I am evil.  Oh yes.  I am.

But…

Then I think that there is something beautiful about believing in stupid things.  That regardless of how absurd, how unrealistic, how calculatedly impossible it is…that believing there is some way, some chance, some small minute possibility that it is true is wonderful.  That sometimes you have to believe in impossible things to even enjoy this life that we’re living.  That sometimes reality isn’t enough…that if we were left to only reality, we would be miserable. 

And then I think about being a little kid.  And how you’ll never get to be a kid again.  How you’re going to have to grow up and face the hardships of life, and struggle through so many difficult situations and uncertainties.  How this is your only real chance to play in the sandbox without a single care, and run around butt naked and have no concern with how the public will perceive you (or be arrested by the cops), and imagine and play crazy games like x-men with all your friends where each of you has super powers and can effectively (with imaginary lasers) blow up walls and stuff, and dream about going to the moon, and…

I, for one, am going to tell my kids that Santa Claus is real.  And until they figure it out, I’m going to let them believe.