Raising Teenagers and Mixing Martinis

Caveat: don't read this in front of your kids. And certainly keep them away from the liquor closet...

It's unlikely that I would have starting drinking martinis if my wife and I had never had children. Wait, that didn't come out right!

What I mean to say is, I wouldn't have sworn off alcohol, but I would have continued to drink beer or wine and would probably have never discovered the simple joy that comes from the activity of mixing a martini (we're not talking about the drinking part here).

The process goes quickly: crushed ice into the shaker, a jigger of vodka, some vermouth... then "shaken not stirred" to pretend I'm Agent 007 for a few moments... pour out the crystal liquid and drop the olives into their chilly suspended animation. The result is not just a drink, it's an objet d'art. Of course, this is not an original idea: appearing last night on the Letterman show, director and Esquire columnist Barry Sonnenfeld showed photos of Colorado landscapes, each featuring a different martini as a centerpiece, a translucent and brilliant artifact in harmony with God's creation.

Crafting a martini is therefore an aesthetic experience, but one in which the artist has a fair degree of control over the outcome. Combine the chemicals properly and the product is predictable and satisfying. There may be a bit of passion involved, say, if I'm careless when measuring the ingredients or drop in a little more ice, maybe that changes the final nuances in the taste of the drink. But usually the pleasure comes from knowing the drill and carrying it out precisely.

Raising teenagers is another story, requiring the practitioner to have a healthy tolerance of uncertainty and formidable patience.

As common wisdom relates, there is no known recipe for preparing teenagers for adulthood. It's a non-linear endeavor, filled with detours and pitfalls. Sure, there may be thousands of books written on the subject, gurus on the tube, anecdotes from our culture and family. Yet every moment is eternally new, every interaction with the emerging soul of our own offspring is infinitely interesting and pregnant with surprise.

I'm not just talking about day-to-day parental decision making (is this the right thing to do? did I say the right thing?) but also about the broader issues of independence and respect. At what point does a parent finally respect a child enough to stop expecting foreseeable results fom the conversation? When do we finally come to grips with the fact they they are motoring away on auto-pilot, living thinking individual beings seeking their own destinies?

Mixing a martini might seem infinitely easier than managing a healthy relationship with an energetic teenager. But the easy path - in my experience, at least - usually isn't right path. The fine line between mixing martinis as a hobby and drinking martinis as an escape tactic is easily crossed, with attendant disasters.

Comparing these activities (mixing martinis/raising teenagers) is inherently absurd and there is no good reason to dwell on these concepts long. The insight is merely that the process of although preparing a martini offers immediate gratification, preparing a young adult for life promises much more fulfillment. There is a need for both in every man's life.