Teenagers

A Cautionary Tale

So it was a busy weekend. Even though I had a mild flu bug, we were busy on Saturday, running around. George has gotten a small job with the development company that is building the home we are buying. He holds the signs to alert people of the Open House. He works from noon to 4. We dropped hm off and went to look at the property. Still very little happening.

Both kids had been out with friends the night before. Em was at her job at the car repair shop. We went home and I collapsed for a while. When my wife went to pick up George, I started cooking dinner. It was one of our favorites, Lemon Grass Chicken, and will be the subject of a future post.

Em spent the night at a girlfriend's that night. Both kids very excited about this weekend being the beginning of their Spring Break. Sunday rolled around and Em came home early and we all went for breakfast in preparation for a day of chores. The house painters were starting on Monday morning, so there was a lot of cleaning up to do around the house. Spent most of the day in the backyard moving things around.

In the afternoon George informed us that he was spending the night at one of his friends from the rock group he practices with. George plays drums, and from what I can hear, isn't too bad for a 15 year old. He's had some music background, 2 years of piano, 3 years Symphony Band in middle school playing percussion, and this year he played Drum Line in the Marching Band and then went into Symphony when that season ended. He is a freshman in high school.

He has played in 3 or 4 garage bands, finding his way. He seems to have found a good group of guys, 2 different bands he currently noodles around with, and with one has become lead singer during acoustic numbers. He's generally a good, sensitive kid. I'm saying all this because of what is to come.

We have watched the boys he is involved with closely. His musical interests have leaned heavily toward retro-punk, so some of these guys are a little freaky looking. You know, piercings, hair, black clothes. But I've been surprised by these boys when I have spoken to them. They have been polite and articulate and have won me over.  Meanwhile George's new musical liking is psycho-billy, which I actually almost like. He has told us that "the guys" are what they call "Straight Edge". What that means, apparently, is that they look wild but avoid drugs and alcohol. Okay, well, that's good. Now most of these guys in the bands are older than him, being juniors and around 17 years old, and they drive.

He was picked up by his friend last night who was driving his mom's van. They loaded up the drum set and off they went. I went to bed to read around 9. At 10 I was awakened by the phone ringing and heard my daughter pick up and talk for a while. I was annoyed because she gets on the computer with her friends and then they call and talk.  It bugs me when it happens late when I have to get up for work. I fall back to sleep, wake again at 11 and get up to prowl around and find my daughter has gone to bed. Peace in the valley. Back to sleep I go.

At about 12:10 the phone rings again and goes to the answering machine. Now I'm really annoyed, that girl HAS to tell her friends to stop calling late. Then I hear her cell phone ring, proving it is a friend of hers. She sleeps through it and it goes to voice mail. Then the house phone rings again. So I get up, but the answering machine picks up before I do and the other person hangs up. So now I start looking for the portable phone which has caller ID to try to find out who the HELL keeps calling. Then the phone rings again, and I grab it.

There is a strange "beep" and a man's voice identifies himself as Officer _____ from the local police department and asks who he is speaking to.

Time slows for a bit as I try to rearrange my thoughts. I know he's not calling to tell me I won the Lotto.

Let me tell you a story:

About two years ago, a new freeway was put through about a mile north of the house. This freeway had the usual benefits and liabilities. On the up side, it cut my commute by half an hour most days. However, it gives easier access to everyone, doesn't it? About 6 months after it opened, 3 teenage boys were out driving late at night. They were 16 and 18. They had the music playing loud, laughing and joking. It was around midnight. They got a phone call from another friend and decided to get off the freeway and go back and get him. They left the freeway quickly, got off the exit just down the street from my house. They pulled on to the surface street and got into the turning lane to get back on to the freeway in the other direction. As they waited for the light to change, another car pulled up with two young men in it. The driver rolled the window down and sprayed the boys vehicle with about 50 rounds from a fully automatic weapon and sped off. The two passengers died before help could arrive, the driver was slightly wounded. These were typical middle class kids, no gang affiliation. The shooter was caught by cops a few days later as he was attempting to rob a woman to get the funds to flee to Mexico (only a couple of hours away). A gunfight ensued and the shooter was terminated (thank god). His companion was also caught and is just now coming to trial. Turns out the story is that the boys had cut these guys off when leaving the freeway. The passenger in the shooters car stated that the boys had no idea what they had done, but I guess these guys felt they needed to be taught a lesson. Whatever. The thing is, I remember thinking at the time "What were these boys doing out at midnight, driving around? Where were their parents?"

So here I am, back on the phone. I tell the officer my name and he says the he has my son and is citing him for curfew violation. He was caught in a car with three other boys "doing donuts" (not the good kind) in a rival high school parking lot. He tells me that he is not citing them for trespassing, but he could. George has been taught to treat police officers with complete respect and courtesy, and, fortunately, he followed that advice. I told the officer that I would come and get the boy immediately, but he preferred to send then home in their car. I asked if he was sure they would dome straight home. He seemed to stifle a laugh and said, "Oh they'll come straight home".

So we waited, and he was home quickly and we sat up and talked about what happened, and his court date. He was obviously scared to death. We talked for a long time, and I couldn't sleep much for the rest of the night.

I kept thinking about the parents of those boys who were shot. I would blame myself and can't imagine how I could live with it.

So George is grounded until his court date (May 23). And he will be strictly limited in his contact with the other boys. It's sad, because we had allowed him freedom and trusted in what he said about what he was doing. Now we will be diligent. I am so glad that the attention they attracted was that of the police officer and not some gang bangers. I look forward to personally thanking this man.

For you guys with little kids, I can only say, enjoy what you have. It is the easiest and most wonderful time of child rearing. We love our kids and have given them all the care and guidance we could, while still trying to allow them some freedom.

It's a very difficult balance.

Comments

[George]

That's a toughie. My folks tried to do a good job raising me and for the most part-when I was your son's age-I followed the straight and narrow.

It's tough when you are that age-you think you are 10 feet tall, bullet proof and invisible. Not true.

My old man told me that if I was ever not comfortable in someones car (due to bad driving,DUI or whatever)-to get out and find a phone to call home for a ride- no questions asked-he'd pick me up.

Did I listen to him? Hell no. Know what? It almost cost me my life as I was a passenger in my buddies Tran-Am (remember them?) when he went off the road at high speed and took off the top part of a telephone pole with his side of the car. I made it-he didn't.

Maybe your kid can learn from my stupidity. Yeah, I know doing "donuts" is fairly tame-but sometimes you can get into situations in over your head before you know it.

I've been there-shit happens.

[Jim]

Most of my vehicular hijinks were in college. One night some friends and I, coming home drunk as usual, flew through a guardrail and knocked over some trees at 80-90 mph. I bit off the end of my tongue, but nobody else (out of six of us) was hurt. We were very lucky and I think we all learned our lesson (the easy way) about DUI that night. Unfortunately, these lessons are generally learned and can't often be taught, especially to 15 year olds.