watched Ozzie and Harriet when I wasrngrow ing up in a home in which both parentsrnworked at factor- jobs, (llnhke Mr.rnRich, we did not consider the Nelsonrntamil’ “omnipresent,” probabK’ becansernwe often made the choice not to watchrnthe show.) Whatever mild appeal Ozziernand Harriet had for us came from the factrnthat Ozzie was a doofus. And part of thernreason he was a doofus (albeit a likablerndoofus) was that real dads didn’t spendrntheir das meandering in and out of thernkitchen. Real dads went to work. As forrnHarriet, there was general agreementrnamong us that she was, it must be said,rnboring. The onl- way we could have feltrnwocfnlK’ deficient at my house was if ourrnparents had been like Ozzie and Harriet.rnWe saw no models on dieir show and discernedrnno lessons from it. And we certainhrndidn’t hear preaching or seek realitwrnWhen we w^anted preaching, wernwent to church. When we wanted reali-rnW, we turned the set off.rnBut that was my house, where TV wasrnlooked upon as mere entertainment. Inrnthe Rich household, expectations werernhigher; that television refrain from presentingrnfamilies that did not retlcct thernrealities of the Rich family; that, indeed,rntelevision refrain from making anyone inrnthe Rich family feel deficient, especiallyrnwoefulK’ so. That seems a lot to ask of arnmedium that each of us is, after all, fullyrnfree to ignore. In any event, one mightrna,ssumc that with the arrival of the 1980’srnand a critable circus of TV sitcomsrnabout single working moms, FrankrnRich’s mother, if not Mr. Rich himself,rnwould have experienced, via television,rnsome sense of personal affirmation. Itrnw as not to be. While Frank Rich’s motherrn”lived long enough to feci vindicated,”rnher indication came not through MurphyrnBrown or the like, but through herrn”children and grandchildren.”rnPrecisely. The onlv vindicahon to bernfound in life is earned, not conferred; itrncomes from witiiin, not without; and itsrnsource is our interchange not with popularrnculture, but with loved ones. Widirnthe example of his ow n moHier, FrankrnRich kicked the props from beneath hisrnargument. One hopes that, like hisrnmother, Mr. Rich has earned, throughrnhis relationship to family, a sense of vindication,rnvalidation, and affirmation.rnOne hopes, most of all, that Mr. Rich’srninner child now feels completely freernfrom woeful deficiency.rnBut if he shll feels emotionally put upon,rnFrank Rich can be assured that helprnhas arrived. In a cokmm published justrnthree days after his Ozzie and Harrietrnconfessional. Rich discussed an episodernof Seinfeld in which Kramer accidentallyrnset afire a Puerto Rican flag and thenrntried to stomp the fire out. While he concededrnthat viewers “have the right tornprotest” such images, Rich went on tornrecommend a more distanced philosophicalrnperspective: “It is a sitcom, forrnHeaven’s sake.”rnNow, as far as I can tell, one of twornthings happened there. Father FrankrnRich determined that one man’s suit isrnanother man’s sitcom, or he finallv’rnfound closure for his Ozzie and Harrietrnproblem.rnJanet Scott Barlow writes from Cincinnati,rnOhio. Her website, “Out Here:rnCommentary from Middle America onrnPolitics and Culture,” can be accessed atrnwvvvv.Out-Here.org.rnFAMILYrnGingerbreadrnJoshuarnby Laurel Van MarenrnIwas baking gingerbread men. It wasrnmv three-vear-old’s idea, but his Hvear-rnold brother thought it woidd be arngreat thing to have on his own birthdayrnthe next day. I had to go out and buy therncookie-cutters because, at the age of 40rnand as the mother of five sons, I amrnashamed to say that I didn’t own any. Irndid have some teeny ones, hvo tiny menrnand an angel, but no proper sized cookiecutters.rnI made a late run to the store andrnhurried home, and as I rolled out therndough and cut the little guys out, I felt arnroot of bitterness in my heart. I took onernof die tiny gingerbread man cookie-cuttersrnand, out of the center of one of thernlarger cookies, cut the shape of the tinierrnman.rn”There,” I said to my husband, showingrnhim the cookie man sans his tinv insidernself. “This is Joshua. He has lostrntouch with his inner child.”rnLast year our 16-year-old son, Joshua,rnleft home —for good, mv husbandrnthinks. Unlike the gingerbread man, hernisn’t a runaway; he is a walkawav’. Herncalmly told me he was leaving, kissed mernand his little brothers goodbye, andrnwalked out. We found out he was smokingrndope and confronted him, groundingrnhim until further notice. He hadrnmade big plans for homecoming thatrnweekend and decided that he wouldrnrather walk out than submit. He wouldrnrather smoke dope than obey; he wouldrnrather lie than tell us, or himself, therntruth; he would rather be selfish thanrnface dut)’ and responsibilitv”.rnDuring a long confrontation with hisrnDad, he had once had the gall to say,rn”You’ve lost touch with your innerrnchild!” “I hope you laughed in his face,”rnI told my husband. Joshua’s inner childrnis a spoiled brat, and I suppose a lot ofrnthat is our fault. We’d sure like to get inrntouch with it now and give it a goodrnswitching, but it’s too late. Our gingerbreadrnboy is gone, and I don’t think werncan catch him.rnHe had the decency to come home forrnhis brother’s birthday, but other than thatrnhe has only called twice. For the firstrncouple of weeks, we didn’t know wherernhe was staying from one day to the next.rnOur caller I.D. showed the number ofrnthe fast-food restaurant where he works.rnOne call was to try to get the money hernhad put away for college so that he couldrnfind an apartment, and the other was becausernhe thought he was breaking out inrnhives and wanted some medicine. Irnshoidd have told him to call one of thernsingle moms who all seem so willing tornput up vagrant irresponsible bovs for arnfew days and ask her for mothering. Irnthink he could stay in single-parentrnhomes until doomsday. Teens todayrnhave learned one modern technique thatrnis serving them well — nehvorking.rnOne mother did take the time to callrnand ask what was going on witii Joshua.rnShe is the mother of the boy with whomrnhe was smoking “herbs,” as thev so casuallyrnrefer to marijuana. She is a very decentrnwoman, employed in a branch ofrnlaw enforcement (I won’t mention inrnwhat capacih’, but let’s just say that smokingrn”herbs” is like plaving hearts comparedrnto the kids she deals with). Wlienrnthis escapade came to light, she gave herrnson a drugs version of the “safe sex” philosophy.rnThese argimients are wonderfullyrninterchangeable: If you are going torn”do it,” be sensible and responsible; don’trn”do i f and drive; don’t let “it” interferernwith school; don’t let “it” get you intorntrouble; be smart; be safe. The “it” couldrnDECEMBER 1998/45rnrnrn