The Mother's Day Tribute

Bring on the nostalgia.

It was my mom who took me to see my first movie in an actual movie theater. We went to the American Theater in Parkchester, in the Bronx. I was two years old at the time. Before this, I'd been exposed to television, mostly Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood. The American is one of those tiny movie houses that looks exactly as it did in the 1960's, with wrought iron framing to its chairs (the "new seats" advertized in the marquee are from 1975). My mom had gone to that same movie theater as a kid. Back then, there had also been The Circle Theater, a couple blocks away, but The American, larger in size and more centrally located in the neighborhood, stood the test of time (while The Circle became a Lucile Roberts gym). She took me there to see The Adventures of Milo and Otis (1986). Even though this movie came out before I was born, they often showed older movies at a discounted rate.



Note: The Mr Pizza to the left is also still there. Their pizza is baller.



    

 
Keen to not be one of those parents who brings a crying kid to a movie, my folks eased me in to the process of sitting still for a long period of time in public with a couple local restaurants. Once it was clear I wasn't going to throw a fit while I waited for pancakes to arrive at our table, I guess they assumed I was ready to sit in a dark with popcorn. According to my mom, I was completely mesmerized by all 76 minutes of the film. I was particularly fixated on the birthing scenes, in which Milo and Otis become parents and the audience watches a litter of kittens and puppies being born. I started miming this scene with my hands once we got home, making a circle with one hand and pushing my other hand through it. "They went floop!" I would say as my hand/kitten was born. At this point, my mom thought it was as good a time as any to explain where babies come from. Yes, when I was two.

It was, thus, at the age of two, I began to understand the world with a more solid grasp of where I came from. A sense of origin and an understanding of self are definitely two things I've gotten from my mom. It's a somewhat archetypal thing, the idea of Mother and Birth as the place and time of origin for all things, from people to the universe in certain myths. In my case, I suppose it's genuinely true. My mom has always been the one of my parents who has been keen to educate my on my family's cultural history, on the truth behind things my dad would rather have remain as skeletons in the closet. For this I owe her my thanks.

The other major thing I owe to my mom is the skill to loaf around. I say "skill" because there's a right way to do it and a wrong way to do it. Being a slovenly couch potato every day of your life is both physically and mentally unhealthy. Every now and again, however, it's perfectly healthy to stay in your pajamas all day and watch movies.

I also say "skill" because I've learned that some people don't know how to enjoy doing nothing. I've meet several people who have told me they find it difficult to watch movies because they either can't stay focused on one thing for so long or they don't see loafing around as productive. These are ludicrous claims as far as I'm concerned. Ether that, or a tragic result of our society's diminishing attention span. The thing about loafing around is that it actually is productive. Rest and "zoning out" are good ways to recharge, to empty mental space for new challenges and information. To this day, when my mom and I take off from work to spend time together, we rarely go out and do anything other than groceries. Precious time is usually spent snuggled on the couch or in bed watching something mind-numbingly feel-good like Kate and Leopold (2001) or Julie and Julia (2009).



We're going to be here for a while.



I should also thank my mom for recognizing the type of kid I was- an introvert. A lot of people mistake introverts for being people who don't like people. An introvert is actually someone who uses a lot of energy during social interaction, whereas an extrovert gains energy from social interaction. There's a fantastic TEDTalk in which Susan Cain explains this in detail, especially the ways in which the power of introverts can be leveraged. Another way to look at it, and how I look at it as a professional educator, is that at the end of the day some kids need a ball and some kids need a pillow. Guess which kind I was (no matter how much I tried to deny it).

I'm awake. I swear. Naps are evil! I....! zzzzzzzz

So, belatedly for Mother's Day, and every day, I guess, I'm thankful my mom successfully taught me the art of loafing. I've since found friends who have also mastered this art and have been able to pass it on to those who feel insecure being "unproductive". To those of you still unsure about the validity of staying on your butt all day, I challenge you to find copies of your two favorite movies, sit back with a snack and someone you love. You may be surprised at how the day seems to disappear with seemingly nothing accomplished. Just remember, you're accomplishing a lot of things your mind and your body have been needing for a while.