Eighteen years ago, as the birth of my first child was imminent, I had an epiphany.  My Alfa Romeo Spider Veloce was not an appropriate car for a family man.  So I went out and bought a BMW 325i convertible.  I had a lot to learn about being a family man.

When I brought the new car home, my sister-in-law, then a full-blown teeny-bopper (an epithet that is still apt today), announced that when she grew up, she was going to get a BMW.  I responded, “save your pennies.”  As a result of that comment, all hell broke loose in my in-laws house and they never again felt mere animosity toward me.  It was now open hatred.  How dare I suggest that they’re little darling won’t have every shiny trinket she desires.  

This is my lead-in to a piece in the Sunday New York Times ong regional section, entitled, Not Your Mom’s Prom? Well, Hardly. by Kate Stone Lombardi (no relation).  The piece contrasts the 1970s view of prom life by a baby boomer with today’s, courtesy of our baby boomer kids.  I will resist the temptation to give you all the really good lines from the piece, so you will have to read it yourself, but the upshot is that proms today are a multi-day, megabucks affair designed to challenge the stamina of Paris Hilton.  And we, the same boomers who decided that it wasn’t worth the time to go to our own proms, are happily going to extremes for our kids.

How did this happen?  Where did we go wrong?  Are we reliving our wayward teenagerhoods through our children to compensate for our own poor decisions, or are we trying to keep pace with the Joneses so our kids aren’t cultural outcasts.   Kate Stone Lombardi thinks we are trying to be less clueless than our parents by giving our “coddled” children what they want to show them that we understand.  But then, she concedes that she really has no idea why we do this.

I’ve had this discussion with friends and acquaintances many times of the years.  Each person has their own twist on why they do it.  Some (including my sister) contend that their kids “deserve” such extravagance for their hard work.  This is the least persuasive to me.  The reward for hard work is a better life, not a rented Hamptons house of debauchery.  These are the people who enthusiastically support mindless excess, and I believe that they are reliving their youth through their children.  If you were a teenybopper with too much cash, how would you behave?

Others hate it, disagree with it and do not want to be a part of it.  And yet they are.  They struggle with the desire to impose values on their children, for to do so would be to isolate them from the mainstream.  They do not want junior to be the geek of his group, or worse yet to be without a group at all, because junior doesn’t have an Ipod.  It’s not the cost, as they can afford it, but the absence of values and the crass materialism that offends them.  And yet they cannot say no.  They can’t do THAT to their children.  So they are every bit as much a part of the downward spiral as the enthusiasts.

Finally, there are those who put their foot down and say “enough”.  They risk the ostracism of their children in the name of right and wrong.  Of course, it is the parents’ vision of right and wrong.  But they will not allow their children’s lives to be controlled by the lowest common denominator.  It’s a very risky position to take, as it invites a backlash from their kids that can have a devastating effect, particularly at a time in the children’s lives when their comfort level with mommy and daddy is at a low point.  Yet, the parents will not yield, secure in the belief that there is much more to life than this one-night (weekend?) right of passage, which they know will soon fade into memory and be replaced with the thrill of embarking on a fulfilling and vital adult life.

Consider the expectations we build by acceding to every teenager’s wish.  Does this reflect what they can expect from life?  I think not.  Is it as simple as it being “just a special day?”  Not that either.  Baby boomers as a group haven’t shown themselves to be the best of parents when it comes to saying “no” to their children.  But this is a dangerous acquiescence, aiding a grossly unrealistic vision of what life has in store for them.  It imparts a false impression that they are owed a wondrous lifestyle, filled with every shiny object that merchandisers can dream up.

But how do you keep them down on the farm after they’ve seen Paree?  The prom is oh so important.  For a moment.  Then it’s the wedding, with tuxedos, doves and the dreaded ice sculptures.  Why would someone who has never had cause to don formal attire in their life suddenly have a yearning for a black tie wedding?  “I want it to be special.”  It is special.  It’s your wedding.  Isn’t that special enough?  “It’s the most special day of my life!”  NO.  Every day is the most special day of your life.  Life doesn’t end as you drive away with tin cans dragging behind the Hummer limo.  See, you thought I wouldn’t appreciate modern choices.  “I want it to be unique.”  Another cookie cutter affair, with all the very expensive, yet utterly mundane, bells and whistles, and this is what constitutes “unique”. 

We are enabling the world that MTV and VH1 have been selling for years, only to watch our kids fall into a life of disappointment when they learn that everyone doesn’t get to live like Puffy.  We eschew the lessons of hard work and sacrifice in favor of obscene materialism and flash.   It’s one thing for them to want to grab something shiny; it’s another for us to guide their hand. 

So we can give them lives of joy by appreciation of things of substance, provided that all the other moms and dads don’t make us look like schnurrers for denying our children the necessities of life.  Like a BMW.