If you watched the television show Lost, then you’ve met (for certain not-meeting values of met) the man who might be the patron saint of dudes. Yes, I’m talking about Hurley.

Played by Jorge Garcia, Hurley was large, neurotic and had gotten into the habit of seeing and talking to dead people. Even worse, they also [...]]]> by Richard

If you watched the television show Lost, then you’ve met (for certain not-meeting values of met) the man who might be the patron saint of dudes. Yes, I’m talking about Hurley.

Played by Jorge Garcia, Hurley was large, neurotic and had gotten into the habit of seeing and talking to dead people. Even worse, they also started talking back to him.

Throughout the series, Hurley served as comedic fodder for the show’s writers. If they needed a break from the solemnity that drenched the show, they’d always cut to Hurley doing something funny or puncturing the inflated egos of the other characters by asking questions that actually made sense.

Over the years, though, it became obvious that Hurley was a bit more than comic relief. His character was all about taking care of people. You see, he cared. About people, about how they felt and what made them happy. That was his thing. He didn’t fight for leadership, he just went along and tried to make sure as many people as possible were happy.

In the end, of course, Hurley ended up with the big chair, protecting the mysterious island and the Dude In Charge.

Physically, not much to aspire to, Hurley set the bar in how to be a dude. He looked out for others, he was there when they needed him, no matter what. He always looked for the best in any situation and then tried to make sure that was what happened. He was loyal to his friends and tried to make his enemies into friends.

Also? He said dude. A lot.

Here’s to ya, Hurley. We’ll not see your like again.

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There is something deeply wrong with so-called child-rearing expert and syndicated columnist John Rosemond. (Hence the title. It were a punne, or a play on words.) In his latest newspaper column, published on April 27 here in Charlotte, NC, Rosemond takes to task those fathers who commit the heinous sin of actually high-fiving their little [...]]]> by Richard

There is something deeply wrong with so-called child-rearing expert and syndicated columnist John Rosemond. (Hence the title. It were a punne, or a play on words.) In his latest newspaper column, published on April 27 here in Charlotte, NC, Rosemond takes to task those fathers who commit the heinous sin of actually high-fiving their little dudes and dudettes.

No, seriously. He says that high-fiving the little dudes is a very bad, bad thing. Why, you whisper in shocked astonishment? Well, says he, because if you high five the little dudes, you’re forfeiting your right to leadership over the young ‘uns. Again, yes, seriously. That is what he said.

. . . although this common practice is well-intentioned, it diminishes a child’s ability to view his father as an authority figure. Children need two L-words from their parents: love and leadership.

The high-fiving dad is a loving guy who has substituted relationship for leadership, a proposition that does not work in any leadership setting.”

Say what?

I do believe he’s seriously suggesting an either/or proposition here. Either you’re some remote, unapproachable leader of men (well, little dudes, but you get the idea) or you’re some kind of commie-symp wimp who wants to be all buddy-buddy with your progeny at the expense of showing them what a man really does.

Personally, I find this outrageous. This dude has some serious baggage in the brain if he really believes this is true. I’ve read Rosemond before and thought he’s had some good idea, but he’s really run off the rails here. I mean, take a look at this.

Providing encouragement, helping people reach higher, is characteristic of all good leaders. But effective leaders do so without crossing the line of relationship. In fact, encouragement is most effective coming from someone who is clearly your superior, not someone who is trying to be your buddy.

Whoa! Again, seriously? He really wants dads to hide up on a pedestal, deigning only to speak to the lowlies on special occasions? Wow!

A side note: As I was writing this post, I had the Rosemond article sitting beside my beloved MacBook Pro. I’d wandered off into the bathroom to brush my teeth (really) and was doing so when Zippy the Monkey Boy walked in. I turned to see what he wanted and he simply raised his hands for a high-five. I laughed, gave it to him and then asked if he’d read the article. Yep, he said. “What did you think about it?”

“I thought it was complete hokum,” said Zippy the Monkey Boy. “High-fiving is just another way of showing encouragement, sort of like shaking hands was for those old crusties.”

Then he melted my heart. “I think we’ve got a good relationship and I’ve got a good leader.” With that, he hitched up the shorts that were sliding off his butt and walked back out to make his lunch for school.

So, that’s one (extremely intelligent) little dude’s opinion. Let’s look at this a bit more.

I think Zippy the Monkey Boy is right. High-fiving has moved into the realm of everyday gestures in habited by the thumbs up, the handshake and the OK sign. It’s just something people do.

Rosemond’s problem with this, I think, comes from the fact that he’s from an older generation, one that had never heard of the high five until they were very set in their ways. He also seems to have a definition of leadership that excludes leadership by example. It seems to me that his vision of a family leader is one who is unimpeachably right, stern while giving orders and more than a bit remote from those whom he is leading.

Whereas I see leadership in the family as consisting of setting a good example in ways both fun and somber, providing the right verbal and physical encouragement, and being there to support and guide the little dude or dudette when he or she runs into problems.

The one thing we agree on here is that all dads should show and give their love to the little dudes. That’s something I think we can all agree on.

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Which might go a long way toward explaining why it’s on the list of top holidays [...]]]> I’m not just talking about a seminal punk-ish band. No, I’m using that as a pun so I can talk about blowin’ stuff up. What can I say? I’m a dude. We like to blow stuff up. It’s in our genes.

Which might go a long way toward explaining why it’s on the list of top holidays for my three little dudes. Just yesterday, Speed Racer was perusing the newspaper (searching for the comics. I can’t get him interested in the actual news of a newspaper. Yet.) when he ran across a story about fireworks being sold and sold a lot. He was, to say the least, a bit excited.

“Can we go there? To this place? They’ve got two for one. We can get a lot of fireworks. Can we go today? Right now?”

I had to calm him down a little. For one thing, it’s difficult to talk to someone when they’re clawing into the ceiling and running about like a hyperactive spider. For another, I knew I’d have to wait for his brother, Sarcasmo, to get home from his leadership camp. It would not be good if we were to go buy fireworks and leave Sarcasmo behind. I’d never hear the end of it.

Still, this is an event to which we all look forward. Me because it’s fun to watch all three little dudes pick out stuff to blow up. Them because, well, they’re picking out stuff to blow up.

Our favorites are mortars. Just because we love the thump as they launch and they really do look fantastic when they explode all the way up there in the air.

– Richard

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