Non-Breeder: Spirit Guide
Every kid needs an art-star slacker to lead him.
by Rev. Jen Miller
February 22, 2007
On a recent trip to Maryland, as Wendy drove Brady, Johnny and me to the mall, Brady asked, "Do you believe the Bible?"
My sister, who's enrolled her children in Catholic school, shot me a look of death.
"Well, the Bible is an interesting book," I began.
"She believes it," my sister quickly said, turning up the radio and punching me in the arm.
A minute later, Johnny chimed in. "I hate mass! It's boring!" he shouted over the music.
"I hate mass, too!" Brady added.
"I also hate mass!" I agreed, joining the religious uprising in the back of the car.
At the mall, I was faced with more probing questions.
"Why do girls get prettier shoes than boys?" Brady asked. Though my sister thought the experience of hanging out with a six-foot-tall man in a spider costume would someday "lead to expensive therapy," my nephews had a great time.
"Because boys get to control the world," I answered.
Brady and Johnny are the two nephews I chat with most frequently, because one niece and nephew live in Seattle and the other two are too young to engage in philosophical conversations.
Brady is extremely tiny, weighing only 36 pounds, so I feel especially responsible for teaching him that being different is cool even if every girl his age is a foot taller than him. So far, I've helped him soup up his dungaree jacket with bitchin' Kiss buttons and taught him that chicks dig long hair. He is now the coolest person in Maryland.
To add to his hipness quotient, I also recently cast him and Johnny as supervillains on the TV show The Adventures of Electra Elf, which I make with the underground filmmaker Nick Zedd. They played Rastus and Skeeter, two insect children from the planet Arachnidonia. I traveled to Maryland with a green screen, two child-sized insect costumes, my friend, Mike Boner (dressed in a spider costume) and Nick.
Though my sister thought the experience of hanging out with a six-foot-tall man in a spider costume would someday "lead to expensive therapy," my nephews had a great time. Plus, they entertained me during what would otherwise be a stressful shoot.
Brady looked at Nick Zedd's spiked red hair and assessed, "Nick has very interesting hair."
He and Johnny then proceeded to improvise an assortment of silly dances for the camera.
Why can't I have that much fun making art? I wondered. For all my commitment to showing my nephews how to have fun, they are the real experts.
Sometimes even slackers like me take life too seriously.
My last visit to Maryland was fueled by a breakup, financial ruin and general despair. I was on the verge of a mental breakdown when Brady and Johnny came bounding through the door.
"Aunt Jenny, guess what?" Johnny asked, as though he had something extremely important to tell me.
"What?"
"Guess what?" Brady asked again.
"What?" I asked, growing a little annoyed.
"Chickenbutt!" they both screamed, and were then consumed by hysterical laughter.
I laughed right along with them.
©2007 Rev. Jen Miller and Nerve Media
About the Author
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Reverend Jen Miller,
patron saint of the uncool, hosts the long-running New York City open
mike "Reverend Jen's Anti-Slam." She is also the author of Reverend Jen's Really Cool Neighborhood, a Lower East Side travel guide "for the poor, deviant and bored." Visit her website at www.revjen.com. |
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