I introduced the kids to Laurel and Hardy this weekend. It was gratifying to see this seminal comedy team topped with bowlers and paired in black and white, resonating with 21st century kids under the age of 10. As I watched the duo, the kids trickled in to join me, transfixed to the point that they could continue watching even after I had left the room.
When I was growing up, Laurel and Hardy defined comedy for me. Nothing made my dad howl like the hijinks of Stan and Oliver. One pivotal memory was the campground we stopped at during one of our cross-country vacations. After dark, a screen was put up for a family showing of Laurel and Hardy films--today that memory glows powerfully as time well-spent with my dad.
Often I think of how I will be perceived in the memories of my children. Last night I was teasing Halle and Cooper from the doorway as they took a bath. It reminded me of another memory of my father--when I had been bused home from kindergarten in the shadow of a tornado. My baby sister and I took a bath while my father paced the house, waiting for my mom and middle sister to return from the store. Funny how we construct new rooms for our memories--I can picture the bathroom and the outer room from this scene, but when I match them with what I remember of that house in Fridley, Minnesota, I can't place the scene in reality.
Baseball is another hook that connects me to my father. Though he followed the game only after my passion had been developed, I have many memories of us from World Series past. The Twins in that amazing 1991 series against the Braves, Joe Carter's walk-off homer to bring Canada its first world championship, the wild hey-day of the 1993 Phillies (dad remembers little of this series as he was hospitalized with a kidney stone), and the 2007 Red Sox. My oldest son, Marshall, isn't interested yet in watching the old ball game (even though I have the Braves on almost every night)--only in the idea of the game, the caps, the ballpark... I'm looking forward to trading stats with him some day and in seeing how my memories match up with his--and his siblings.
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