Driving Straight

In the next year, our oldest child might be getting her driver's license. Mercy me. I have to believe every parent is excited about this prospect because the days and nights of being the family Uber driver will become fewer and farther in between. Every parent is also full of trepidation about their children driving around with all the craziness on the roads, higher insurance rates, and the fear of accidents and injuries. And God forbid they ever drive under the influence of anything and risk everything. 

Driving aside, which will definitely be the subject future articles once Beatrice does start driving, this is also about her getting an official California ID. Both our daughters already have passports, which we got for family travel, but soon she'll have driver's license, and at some point, Bryce will as well. And even if they don't drive, they'll have a California issued ID. 

Legitimate IDs are important for sure, and when we're adults we'll need them for getting jobs, to applying for loans, to voting, to buying alcohol and other legal drugs, to nearly everything. For buying alcohol and other legal drugs, you have to be of the legal age to do so. Unless you have a fake ID.

Back in my day, and my wife's day, fake IDs weren't easy to come by and weren't very good either, like all the cheesy 1980's teen movies we loved back then. I had friends in college who had fake IDs, but never in high school (that I was aware of). My dad could've spoken to this much better than I being a forgery and fraud detective in the 1980's. 

But today it's supposedly very easy to get a fake ID online. For $50-$150 you can get two to three fake IDs on sites such as this one. I don't really want to advertise these sites, but it's real and teens have access to them. 

In California, you still have to be 21 years old to purchase alcohol and marijuana products, but if fake IDs are that good, then it doesn't matter how young you look using one. For those who are 18-20 years old, marijuana is still illegal in California unless you have a current qualifying physician’s recommendation or a valid county-issued medical marijuana identification card. I've also read those are easier to get than you think. 

So, combine that with fake IDs and cannabis dispensary access within walking distance from high schools, and that's a potentially major health risk for our kids. The American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) has shared evidence of the mental health impacts of marijuana usage among teens that include harmful impacts on brain and cognitive development, addiction, higher risk for marijuana-induced psychosis, and suicidal ideation. Not to mention the detrimental effects of alcohol on teen brains. Plus, we need store owners and employees that are vigilant to identifying and reporting flake IDs.

As adults, our grown children may choose to drink alcohol and/or use marijuana, and that's fine, as long as it's legal and they do it safely and not drive under the influence. Or, they'll choose not to, which is probably even better. And yes, there are parents of teens who do consume both as adults, but hopefully aren't making it okay for their kids. 

Teen consumption is more complex and dangerous than ever, and as parents, we need to be aware of how easy it is to get fake IDs and what they can do with them. Access shouldn't as easy as walking to the corner store or dispensary with a fake ID. The legal ramifications and the physical and mental health damage for teens that occur when using and abusing alcohol and cannabis should inspire us to be better parents and talk to our kids about all of this. 

We want our children to drive someday. Of course, we do. With legal IDs. That will be super helpful to us, especially when they're driving straight, and not under the influence (of peer pressure, alcohol, marijuana, the list goes on and on). 

The Beat of BhivePowered Drums

After decades of thinking about playing the drums, and with only a few short-lived runs at starting to play but never following through, I finally picked up the drumsticks for good shortly after the COVID-19 lockdown started. That was nearly four years ago now, and since then, I’ve practiced for over 1,000 hours, averaging about 5 hours per week, usually playing after dinner. When I travel, I bring my practice pad with me and try to bang out some rudiments. 

In addition to practicing rudiments and taking various lessons, I’ve also had fun learning to play many songs I grew up with and loved (and still love), nearly 120 songs to date. I get to 80%-85%% proficiency, record myself playing, and then move on to another song, always learning two songs simultaneously. Early on I couldn’t always get the entire song down, but now I can. 

No, I’m not starting a band anytime soon, but the point of all this ongoing practice is to improve and sustain my drumming performance. Hitting 100% isn’t easy, but consistency in proficiency is key. I’m also always adding wrinkles to my rudiments, the lessons I’m learning, and periodically getting feedback and lessons from a professional session drummer. 

I’ve been beating a similar drum for our teens recently, getting them to understand that it's never too late to try something new and see if it lands on the right heartbeat for them. Especially now, this is the time for them to explore what moves them the most (and they should do this throughout life). Both my wife Amy and I tell them that they should never be afraid to give something new a go. Our youngest Bryce gave theater a go and loves it. But even if Bryce hadn't liked it, they really put themselves out there during the very first audition, which is always a super-big deal. Our oldest Beatrice has given lacrosse, track, and now theater a go, and we'll see what she really enjoys and wants to continue the most. Although art is her true love and that is definitely something she continues to invest in.

The key is the heartfelt enjoyment our kids get from whatever those endeavors, hobbies, activities are that they try. The world is cutthroat competitive enough, and while our teens will still need to put in the work to learn and grow in whatever they aspire to do, they've got to have fun, too. When I coached both our kids in soccer for years, that was always my mantra. Learn new skills, embrace teamwork when applicable, and have fun. Always. Have. Fun. That's the beat of BhivePowered Drums. 

To Never Forget The Kids

We were almost home when I realized I'd forgotten our oldest daughter Beatrice. In my defense, she had been hanging out with friends after school of late, so I didn't think about her. Not even our youngest daughter Bryce asked about Beatrice, assuming the same.

But it was Bea's short day in high school, when she gets out about the same time Bryce does in middle school. That's when Beatrice will walk over to the middle school and I get them both, unless they have other after school activities (theater and sports now), or they're seeing friends, or they want to walk, or their riding bikes, or whatever. That part I'd forgotten, that I'd get them together on Mondays after school. 

Why I'd forgotten, I don't know, because our pattern doesn't vary much. Most of the time, my wife Amy takes the girls to school, and I pick them up after school, again, depending on their plans (except when I'm traveling for work). Always the back and forth everywhere, all the time, until Beatrice starts to drive, but that's still probably two years away.

Maybe I had a lot on my mind, who knows. So, that Monday when Bryce and I were nearly home, we get a text from Beatrice: "When do you want me to go to the car?"

Bryce read it out loud. "We forgot Bea."

Crap, I thought. "Subpar," I said. "We're nearly home. Let me drop you and then I'll go back to get her."

"No, let's just go get her," Bryce said, texting her back that we were on our way now.

The good news is that both schools are only about two miles from where we live. I backtracked to get her, thinking she was at the middle school where she would usually go on Mondays. The part I had forgotten. But, part of her text was that she was still in a teacher's room at school, and both Bryce and I thought that meant at the high school. 

We were nearly to the middle school and that's when we turned around and went to the high school. Not realizing until after further texts from Bea that was actually at the middle school, where she was supposed to go in the first place. So, after reaching the high school, we turned around again and headed to the middle School.

It became a "who's on first" Abbott and Costello comedy routine, as well as a Home Alone parody. I'd forgotten to get Beatrice when I picked up Bryce, and then it became a comedic puzzle for Bryce and me to figure out exactly where Beatrice was. Thankfully she forgave us and got a kick out of it when I slapped the palms of my hands to my cheeks and yelled "Kevin!" (Home Alone is one of her favorites). I have more sympathy for the McCallister family now, considering I had always sworn to never forget the kids, no matter how much is on my mind. And this time I did. Mercy me.

We Can Curb the Egg Slinging

We egged his house and he wasn't even home. His parents weren't home either. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway, caught up in the stupidity of teenage groupthink. One night at dusk when I was 16 years old, I drove my El Camino with friends in the back, while another friend drove his truck with other friends in the back, and we raced by another supposed friend's house and threw two dozen eggs at his house. As we drove by, the neighbors across the street, people who knew who we were because their daughter went to school with us, said to each other, "Wow, there goes Kevin and his friends."

When my egged friend's parents got home, they called the police and the neighbor witnesses gave us up. When I got home later that night, a police officer was waiting outside our house to question me about the egging. My parents and sister were most likely asleep, and so I denied the egging. The officer, who already had eye-witness testimony, pressed me further, even threatening to wake up my father to get me to confess. My father at the time was a long-time police officer himself, so I definitely confessed after that. 

The part that was the most devastating for me was when we all agreed to meet with my egged friend's parents and both my parents came. My egged friend wasn't there because his parents wanted to know why we did what we did, especially since we'd all been supposed friends for years. They were visibly hurt, especially his mom, and I could barely look her in the eyes. I could barely look my own parents in the eyes because their disappointment and hurt were unbearable as well. 

Not all the guys who participated in the egging agreed to come to the meeting, but what was even more uncomfortable for me were some of the guys whose toxic fathers came. They mocked the meeting and laughed at the vulnerability of my egged friend's parents, just saying basically that boys will be boys and it wasn't that big of a deal. That we were just teasing. 

But we weren't just teasing, and I knew it even before the first egg was thrown. I knew it even more painfully when I was one of two of us who agreed to scrub the eggs off his house, and it was excruciating when I faced the friend I'd egged and apologized to him. I knew what we did wasn't teasing. Teasing is supposed to be playful, friendly, and even sometimes affectionate, without intending to harm or demean. It's a way of socializing and bonding within a group. This wasn't that. 

And even if I didn't intend to bully, I participated in the bullying. Bullying is deliberately attempting to hurt, harm, or humiliate others. The impact of bullying is well-documented and can cause physical, emotional, or psychological distress. The targets of bullying often feel threatened, frightened, and/or humiliated. 

Today, with the reach and impact of social media and the dark side of artificial intelligence, cyberbullying is even more prevalent and can be way more devastating than egging someone's house. It's even worse because the reach is greater, the perpetrators are usually anonymous, and the algorithms themselves are smarter than ever, serving up more and more relevant crap -- throwing more and more literally rotten eggs -- that can make us feel like the very crap it's serving up, especially to our children and teens. Plus, we worry because more teen girls are the targets of fake nudes and fake pornography today, which is horrific. 

Thankfully, our teen girls haven't been bullies themselves, nor have they been bullied to date, online or in person. We monitor their social media usage as much as we can, talking with them about what they're watching, the impacts of all that, and encouraging them to limit their time online. We've empowered them to make good decisions, which we know they'll miss making sometimes, but they're doing pretty good overall so far, and we're never afraid to talk about anything and everything with them. My wife Amy always channels Kidpower by living these words: "The safety and well-being of ourselves and those in our care are more important than anyone's embarrassment, inconvenience, or offense."

Congress recently grilled social media leaders about the negative impacts of their platforms, with many families in the audience holding up pictures of the children they've lost because of those negative impacts. While we wait for actual federal legislative action that could make help difference, and sadly may never come, it's up to parents and families everywhere to make the difference. In fact, it's always been up to us. Virtually and organically, there will be bullying, and yet we can work on bullying prevention from a very early age into adulthood with our own kids, and then they can do the same for their kids. We can curb the egg slinging.