Good writing, with a strong point and with life oozing out.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

July 1, 2007

When asked who should be cast as a monkey at his birthday party, my buddy Ethan immediately identified me (thanks, pal!). The party was a lot of fun, but the ancillary insight is a little harrowing. In researching the role, I found myself wondering if I really am a Bobo.

I’m pretty sure that’s not me, but I’m buying the book to make sure. If I’m buying it used, does that mean I’m a Bobo? If I’m typing this on a sweet black MacBook, does that mean I am? If I find myself doing internet research to prepare for a nonspeaking role as a mischievous spider monkey, does that mean I am? If my daughter wears thrifted, borrowed hand-me-downs, but rides in a top-end carseat strapped into a Japanese car, does that mean I am? If her favorite toy is her very own (RED) Motorazr (made in China), does that mean she is? Oh, man.

Freeze, Bobos!

I hate demographics– they are so dehumanizing.

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2 Responses to “Out of the Mouths of Babes”

  1. Anonymous says:

    I just hate Japanese cars!
    uncle Chuck

  2. kate says:

    Do you repeat yourself four or five times, every time you say anything? In English, and Espanol? Do you drive every parent within earshot bat-crazy?
    If so, you might begin to qualify.

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