Parenting is hard. You try to set a good example, and Christ, that's hard enough. You want your kids to grow up to be good, smart people.
I'm not driven to greatness, but I want my kids to be.
My definition of parenting includes exposing my kids to extraordinary, out-of-the-box stuff. And that doesn't mean visiting Disneyworld for vacation every year, or driving a minivan with TVs.
So last week, Boo had a couple of days off of school to film The Lovely Bones, directed by Peter "No-longer-a-huge-tub-of-lard-so-don't-confuse-me-with-Michael-Moore" Jackson. I thought it might be fun for him to see how tedious and dreary moviemaking can be, even if it's a movie made by an Oscar-winning director.
I read the book a year or two ago, and remember none of it. None. I hear it's a good book.
Apparently there's a boys' soccer team in the story, and the dead gal's sister plays on the team. In the scenes they filmed last week, the team is running through a 70s-era neighborhood. Boo has a prime spot within the group, running right behind the gal, so hopefully he'll stay in the scene.
A van transported them to the set. Their driver happily cursed at them, which the boys thought was hilarious. "Hey, don't get fingerprints on my windows, you little bastards!" he hollered. "Someone get these fuckers off my bus!" The boys howled with laughter. Ha! Ha!
Between filming scenes, Boo had a conversation with Stanley Tucci, who plays the murderer (oops, did I give it away?) He said he was very nice. Stanley--may I call him Stanley?--has appeared in, like, everything. Mr. Tucci. Stanley. Stanleys' a funny name if you look at it long enough.
For authenticity, the boys had to wear 70s-era workout-wear. This meant tight, banded t-shirts and short shorts, with tube socks and Converse sneakers. All the boys were clearly uncomfortable in these outfits, since they're all used to wearing big baggy everything. They came out of wardrobe holding their limbs tightly to their bodies. They tugged their shorts down, trying to hide their white thighs. Their thighs are never exposed to the sun!
I shared with Boo the horror of 70s-era gym suits, those blue one-piece monstrosities girls were forced to wear, with the poofy, elasticized leg openings.
By the end of the shoot, they had all loosened up a little, united in their disdain for one of the boys, who kept waving to the camera and acting like an idiot. Otherwise, they became fast friends and are hoping to return in November to shoot some scenes in which they're actually playing soccer.
And the moms? We got to sit. And sit. And sit...
I'm not driven to greatness, but I want my kids to be.
My definition of parenting includes exposing my kids to extraordinary, out-of-the-box stuff. And that doesn't mean visiting Disneyworld for vacation every year, or driving a minivan with TVs.
So last week, Boo had a couple of days off of school to film The Lovely Bones, directed by Peter "No-longer-a-huge-tub-of-lard-so-don't-confuse-me-with-Michael-Moore" Jackson. I thought it might be fun for him to see how tedious and dreary moviemaking can be, even if it's a movie made by an Oscar-winning director.
I read the book a year or two ago, and remember none of it. None. I hear it's a good book.
Apparently there's a boys' soccer team in the story, and the dead gal's sister plays on the team. In the scenes they filmed last week, the team is running through a 70s-era neighborhood. Boo has a prime spot within the group, running right behind the gal, so hopefully he'll stay in the scene.
A van transported them to the set. Their driver happily cursed at them, which the boys thought was hilarious. "Hey, don't get fingerprints on my windows, you little bastards!" he hollered. "Someone get these fuckers off my bus!" The boys howled with laughter. Ha! Ha!
Between filming scenes, Boo had a conversation with Stanley Tucci, who plays the murderer (oops, did I give it away?) He said he was very nice. Stanley--may I call him Stanley?--has appeared in, like, everything. Mr. Tucci. Stanley. Stanleys' a funny name if you look at it long enough.
For authenticity, the boys had to wear 70s-era workout-wear. This meant tight, banded t-shirts and short shorts, with tube socks and Converse sneakers. All the boys were clearly uncomfortable in these outfits, since they're all used to wearing big baggy everything. They came out of wardrobe holding their limbs tightly to their bodies. They tugged their shorts down, trying to hide their white thighs. Their thighs are never exposed to the sun!
I shared with Boo the horror of 70s-era gym suits, those blue one-piece monstrosities girls were forced to wear, with the poofy, elasticized leg openings.
By the end of the shoot, they had all loosened up a little, united in their disdain for one of the boys, who kept waving to the camera and acting like an idiot. Otherwise, they became fast friends and are hoping to return in November to shoot some scenes in which they're actually playing soccer.
And the moms? We got to sit. And sit. And sit...
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