The cost of concentric search patterns
After a certain number of children have passed through the house, a parent develops a feeling for which of the various “rites of passage” come with an acceptable risk factor. My three sons have all gone through a similar formation, that of the concert band, and the big night of the year is the final performance. Not so much the show, but what follows afterward is at the crux of this posting; the famous “after concert” party.
Don’t get your hopes up, because these are children that have been raised according to the rules of harmony. No wild crescendo or forte moments. The “after concert” is simply a sign that a child wishes to belong to the group in a social sense. This is the one moment where rank and file mix together; the old and wise tolerating the young and foolish, in the way of pack animals everywhere. One should never forget that a concert band is less than six degrees of separation from the band of hyenas.
Tonight son #3 wanted to attend a house party. A civilized one; charging admission, with parents in the neighbourhood, yada yada. We agreed, after setting certain ground rules (the list is far too long to reproduce here in the space and time allotted). Off we went, and then came the realization that son #3, lacking a band conductor, was lost. He had only a general idea about where the hostess lived: on a street near a McDo. He at least knew which one, since we have three within spitting distance. The suggestion was that I slowly drive along the streets nearby until we spotted people that looked familiar.
Imagine Celtic knotwork. We drove in a series of concentric curves, turning left or right on a whim, and after fifteen minutes we did spot a group of youths that weren’t particularly rowdy on a front verandah. This must be the place. I dropped him “up around the bend” agreeing to return in three hours. Then, hungry and a little dizzy from the circling, I headed for the Arches to eat a hearty meal.
I think I’m going to check into the cost of a meter for the car; something like those seen in taxis. Not that I’d charge a child for a wild goose chase, but it would be educational to attach a value to the time spent by a parent trying to assure that the child is accepted in the social circles of his peers.
