AJC > Sandy Springs > Blog > Archives > 2007 > February > 05
Monday, February 5, 2007
When a son turns 20
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Our son Zach hits a pretty big birthday this month, at least from a parent’s perspective. This week, he turns 20.
For Zach, birthdays 19 and 20 are pretty useless on the major-event chart of life. Those two years are spent waiting to jump from semi-legal status at 18 to full-legal status as the pager turns over to 21. I think a promised 21st-father/son birthday trip to New Orleans may be affecting his judgement.
However, from my chair this one is big because it means he’s officially out of the teenage years. At 13, one is urged to put away childish things. When they get through their teens they are ordered to put away those really childish things. Whoopee cushions, bathroom humor, purloined girlie magazines and the like are the detritus of the male maturation process.
The journey from the first day of 13 to the last of 19, however, has its share of positive milestones.
The obvious one is that driving comes into play. At 15 Zach began learning to drive Sunday afternoons in the cavernous parking lots of office complexes. Eventually we had to hit the open road where straying outside the lines is more serious than doing so in a coloring book. I still have a bum knee from applying the phantom brake pedal on the passenger side back in the days when 10 mph seemed fast.
In what was a very short 14 months, he had his drivers license. It was a jarring experience to watch him drive away from the house and not be sitting in the passenger seat. I imagine he enjoyed it more than I did.
I was there for his first slow dance, by dint of the fact the middle-school administration wanted a lot of us fathers to act as chaperones-cum-bouncers. I don’t recall the song that played. I’ll never forget watching two 13-year-olds hold on to each other and sway to the music.
I was there for his first shave because that’s something fathers are supposed to pass along to their sons. He may never make a choice so carefully as he did his first razor. And hearing the phrase: “Dad, I’m out of shaving cream” took some getting used to.
High school was as big for Zach. He landed a small role in the fall play his freshman year. His junior year he played organized football for the first. He was on the varsity, but was pressed into service as a starter on the offensive line for the JV team because he was the only one who knew all the blocking schemes.
He also became quite good, I hear, at poker during these years. His best night netted a windfall of about 10 bucks. At least that’s the story I heard.
These memories could go on forever, but I should stop before I break into “Sunrise, Sunset” and start the waterworks. But suffice it to say I’m going to miss that teenage kid.
Happy No. 20, Zach. See you on Bourbon Street next year.
