Tour de France

When did it become necessary for every bicyclist to wear, even on the shortest of jaunts, togs fit for the Tour de France? Unless you are entered in a race or planning to cycle at least 40 miles, please confine yourself to normal clothes. The funniest example of this I saw (in precious Linden Hills, of course, my home turf but admittedly full of self-important types) was a middle-aged guy hauling two screaming kids in a Burley, while fitted out as if he were planning to meet up with Lance A that very afternoon. Stick to Dockers, dad.

Baggage

I am going to turn into the Andy Rooney of bloggers; perhaps my blog's title is giving me license to do so? But then isn't that what the blogosphere is all about? Finding a place to hold forth on stuff without making your friends actually listen to you?

My next subject is one that has bugged me for awhile: Why do people carry so much junk with them everywhere they go? The classic example, of course, is packing for a trip. If you're going away for a weekend, you should only need a small duffel bag. Why is it then, that so many people traveling for two nights carry two huge suitcases plus assorted carry-ons? Do they need dozens of choices at each moment? Do they need a coat for each micro-climate? What are they so afraid of?

Where this trend manifests itself most ridiculously is the upper middle class moms with their uber-strollers. It may be just a simple walk to the park but it has the appearance of a sherpa mounting the final assault on K2. The bloated strollers are strapped down with juice boxes, extra sweaters, snacks, diapers, board books, and God knows what else. Probably a musk ox and oxygen canisters.

What to me feels like a suffocating load of junk and an assault on my freedom must feel to most people like safety and security. Okay, I can accept our differences. Except when your giant suitcase has landed on my head because you can't lift it into the overhead compartment or when your stroller on steroids is blocking the way to my latté.

The Professionalization of Kids' Activities

When my 8-year-old daughter entered a new school last fall with less music in its curriculum, I signed her up for a girls chorus. She has a beautiful voice and loves to sing; what better outlet than an all-girls chorus, I thought.

Wrong. Before you could sing Do-Re-Mi, the choir directors had sent memos about two separate uniforms that had to be purchased, assigned 17 different pieces of music (half in foreign languages), and arranged five concerts in December alone, not to mention extra rehearsals. What had started as a casual and fun way to keep my grade-schooler singing had been transformed into a nightmare of scheduling and practicing and stressing out.

Unfortunately, this is all too often the case with any children's activity these days. Back in the 196os, when I was an 8-year-old going to lessons, we just weekly practiced our ballet or Scottish dancing (yes, I took both) and performed one low-key recital—wearing homemade costumes and watched mostly by parents—at the end of the year. Not anymore. Now apparently anything worth doing is worth overdoing, kids and family life be damned. The fun slowly leaks out of everything, replaced by the premature need for excellence. All of which is driven by adults with their own ego agendas, of course.

But leave them alone for a few hours, and you'll see what kids really like to do: Put on their own shows. Shortly after dropping out of the overachieving choir, this same 8-year-old had a friend over to play. Three hours later they put on a puppet show of their devising, complete with hand-made paper puppets and officious looking tickets. We parents sat on the bed and watched the show unfold, as two happy grade schoolers giggled their way through their own fun. No uniforms required.