We watched Down Periscope tonight. I’ve loved that movie for thirty years and it holds up — silly and sweet at the same time, which is harder to do than it looks.
I quote it more than I should. There’s a scene early on where the captain is meeting his crew, gets a look at his new executive officer, and says something about him being a little young for the job.
Rob Schneider straightens up and says: excellence knows no age, sir.
It’s a joke. It’s also true, and I’ve thought about it more than a comedy line probably deserves.
My son is in the middle of a painting challenge right now — a series of watercolors, a different theme each time.
He showed me the collection tonight. Spread out, all of them together.
They’re good. Not good-for-his-age good. Good.
I’ve never had any interest in painting, but I’ve always drawn. I still doodle while I think — always have, half the margins of my life are covered in it. And what I put on a page is not in the same category as what he puts on one. He draws it, then he paints it, and it’s finished, and I’m looking at it.
I’m thirty years older than him and I’m not close.
Here’s the thing I noticed about myself tonight, standing there looking at his work.
Nothing in me wanted to compete with it. Not a flicker. I was just proud of him and glad to be looking at it.
And I compete with everything. I keep score on myself constantly — I’m not as far along as I should be, I haven’t had the success I wanted, I still haven’t found the groove in half of what I’m doing. Writing included. I run that tally in the background most days.
But not with him. I don’t grade myself against my son and I never have.
Which makes me wonder who I think I’m grading myself against the rest of the time.
The honest answer about the writing is that I haven’t been at it long. Not seriously, not the way I’ve been at it this year. I’m early. Early looks like failure if you compare it to someone who isn’t.
He’s early too. He’s just been early at the right thing for longer, and he practices, and it shows.
He put them all back in order when he was done showing me.
David Willis 