This is a true "ravings" post.
Sunday, my son, his two boys, Leo and London, and I drove 119 miles to Waunakee, WI for the BWK K-6 Wrestling Tournament. We left at 5 am and I walked back in the door at 7:30 pm. A very long day, yes, but lots of incremental moments to record.
Traveling in darkness with the sun rising in the rear view mirror was far too reminiscent of corporate days, as was traveling in darkness with the sun setting behind. Too many years filled with missed days. How many folks still make their living by being absent from their entire lives? A sad reality of capitalism that I’m sorry I was a part of, and gladly rid of.
As we left Kenosha, the rising sun sparkled and blinked off frozen blades of grass, and road side business windows. The further north we drove, the same sun reflected blindly off mounds of crisp snow atop rolled bales of hay. Three hours of travel time within the same state transformed the world.
Of course, there was all the wrestling. You can see 7 year old London taking first place here. Unfortunately, he wrestled in a completely different gym than his brother Leo. I stayed, watched, and filmed Leo while Lenny went with London, so I had to watch the videos just like you.
Another thing that struck me was the rampant acne on those northern boys. Not only the high school kids who were refereeing the matches, but also the younger ones who wrestled. I don’t know what that means, and I can’t even speculate. Just seemed strange that it was so severe.
However, all the things noted above had to be recalled. There was only one thing that I took away from the whole day, one thing that stayed with me. The title of this piece and their definitions: Fascism, socialism, and communism. I was eavesdropping on a conversation between two fathers sitting next to me; actually, it was difficult not to hear every word. One father was talking about the super grades his child received besides his superior sportsmanship.
“How does a smart kid tease his little sister? He calls her a fascist, socialist, and communist.”
How does a father deal with this teasing? By proudly translating the story, obviously.
I highly doubt that a 6th grader learned these words or their meanings in class. My 6th grade grandson isn’t. The other father responded by saying, “And five minutes later: Dad, what’s a fascist, socialist, and communist?” 1st father, laughing: “Yep.”
I wondered then, I wondered on the ride home, and I wonder still just how the father explained these words to the “little” sister. With politicians on both sides, Bush and Obama, having this labels attached to them, I can only imagine. This is what I took away from my first K-6 wrestling tournament.