Tag: lessons

  • Hook

    Hook

    I watch a lot of old movies from my childhood with my daughters now. I think Ivy has already started not taking me seriously when I say, “This is one of my favorite movies ever.” But Hook is really one of my favorite movies ever.

    Sometimes you forget that others did not live your childhood. When I heard Beth had seen Hook maybe one time through in her life, I was shocked. I’ve probably watched it from beginning to end at least 3 dozen times. Back in the day if you had a VHS of a movie it became an automatic watch at least a dozen times.

    For those who aren’t familiar with the movie Hook, it tells the story of a Peter Pan that left Neverland to marry Wendy Moira Angela Darling’s granddaughter. Peter is grown up now and has forgotten who he once was. It has Robin Williams as Peter Pan, Dustin Hoffman as Hook, and Julia Roberts as Tinker Bell. I never realized it was a Steven Spielberg film.

    I watched it recently with my girls. It’s been a while since I’ve watched it. This was the first time I’ve seen it since having kids. Some things stood out to me in my new “dad of three” mind. 

    In the movie, Peter Pan has become an important person. He works in “mergers and acquisitions.” It sounds like he works in major corporate takeovers. As Jack, Peter’s nine-year-old son, describes what Peter does for work, Wendy, who is now extremely old, mutters, more to herself than to anyone, “Peter, you’ve become a pirate.”

    Which led to the first thing from the movie that made me think, the first major theme. In Neverland, there are two main categories: Pirate or Child. A pirate steals, plunders, and is generally bad. The children, while not perfect, are, well, children. They are kind, playful, and forgiving. The children are good. Everything is a game to them. The children are filled with joy. The pirates are filled with hate. The Pirates and the Children in Neverland are diametrically opposed.

    There is a moment where Captain James Hook is considering suicide. He is musing about how he has no purpose and no meaning and just can’t take this life anymore. The film makes it clear this isn’t the first time this has happened. 

    The children on the other hand, despite their meager existence, have joy simply from living.

    There is a statement made throughout the film, “Death is the last great adventure.” We’ve all heard this statement. The movie emphasizes that it is the Pirates, the adults, who dwell on and obsess over death. The children never talk this way. To them life is the adventure. Every day for the children is filled with joy and fun. They’re not looking forward to death, they are too busy thinking about life.

    Adults as “bad” and children as “good.” But why? As a stressed out, often frustrated, often impatient husband and father, I heard what the movie was telling me. I am a pirate. The three little girls I’m surrounded by every day are pure joy, adventure, and curiosity. I am not bad. But my pirate tendencies are. My girls are good. 

    There’s a moment in Neverland when Peter’s kidnapped daughter starts singing out over the pirate city. She’s singing a lullaby that her mother used to sing to her. The pirates have forgotten their mothers. The pirates have forgotten what it’s like to be a child. As the young girl sings, the hardened, mean, tough pirates stop. They stare. Some weep. 

    Be ye as little children. The pirates had forgotten what it is to be a child. 

    The movie is about finding joy despite the mundane nature of life. The movie reminds us to not be pirates. Be children. Play, run, laugh.

    Finally, at the climax of the movie, Peter needs to remember who he was, or he’ll lose everything. He needs to have a happy thought. He’s been so obsessed with work and success for so long, he doesn’t remember where true happiness lies. He remembers being a father. He remembers the births of his two children. This is his happy thought: being a father. This is what allows him to fly. This is what allows him to defeat the pirates and be Peter Pan again. It’s this thought that allows him to be like a child again. 

    In the last scene of the movie, Wendy is standing at the window with Peter and his family. She says, “Your adventures are over.” Peter replies, “Oh no, to live, to live will be an awfully big adventure.”

  • Fences or Guardrails?

    Fences or Guardrails?

    I read a book I probably wouldn’t admit willingly reading, except that a cool experience and message came out of it, so here we are.

    That book was called Are Your Standards Fences or Guardrails by John Bytheway. There’s nothing wrong with this book. It’s just… a book I would be embarrassed to read as a kid as much as I was embarrassed to be reading it as an adult. I mean, just look at the cover, I think that says it all. It’s a super uplifting and positive book to help teenagers live morally and with high standards in an increasingly low standard world. If I start a book I’m going to finish it. As with any book, something will be learned from it. This book had a particularly cool experience come from it.

    The cool experience that came from reading this book developed out of a realization that Beth brought to my attention.

    I’ve gotten many of the books I’m currently reading from my grandparents. Many still have the sticker on the inside cover that reads, “Mr. & Mrs. Leach.”  As I was reading this book and wondering, ‘Why am I reading this?’ I noticed, like I often do, where the touch of my grandma was. This book was full of ear-marked pages.

    I mentioned it to Beth. “Here’s evidence of Grandma.”

    Beth asked what year the book was published and I told her.

    Beth wondered out loud, “2003…. So, who would she have had in mind while reading this?”

    My first thought was nobody. Her kids were already grown up with kids of their own by 2003. Then I slowly connected the dots. 2003….I would have been 13…. Oh… Grandma was likely thinking about me (along with others) while she read this. 

    It added some reverence to this book. Here I was approaching 20 years after my grandma read this book with me in mind and I was reading it with my daughter (only Ivy was born when I was reading this) and younger siblings in mind. It’s amazing how life changes. It’s amazing how we change. Every page my grandma ear-marked was for good reason. She had reason to worry about me at that time. At that time, I was on my way to breaking every guideline from that book.

    Here I am 20 years later having the same worries about the younger generation.

    It’s partly why I write all these silly posts. Maybe one day my daughter will read them and have an idea of who I was in 2020, and 2022, and 2025. Because by the time she’s reading this in 2033 I’ll be well on my way to grumpy, old, so-out-of-touch father.

    ***TANGENT*** I already feel that way this weekend playing catchphrase with my 19 year-old cousin and her friend. Did you know a 19-year-old doesn’t remember 9-11? That hit me like a slap to the face, woah! The most impactful and memorable day of my life was not experienced by a generation that is now approaching or already in their 20s! That’s crazy. That same cousin has never seen an episode of Boy Meets World. It’s a crazy thing getting older.

    Anyways, this was less about the book and more about what it made me realize. Life is so fluid. I remember being 15 and being convinced I knew everything. Now I’m in my 30s and realize I know almost nothing.

    Life moves and changes so quickly. It’s an amazing thing. I don’t know what closing or profound thought I have to finish this post. I guess I’ll close with this:  to my 12 year-old daughter in 2033, know I once thought I knew everything and it took many years of stupidity to realize how little I know. It took me a long time to realize the adults around me that I thought were hypocritical, or judgemental, or out of touch, or just trying to keep me from having fun really only ever had my best interests in mind.

    To my two girls: I love you and the adults around you love you. All we’ll ever want is the best for you and to protect you. I promise you that.