If you want to give a mother from northern Indiana (or probably any other rural-ish area) a heart attack, send her to Chicago, then tell her that she’s got to let her kid walk to school by himself. Still in Chicago.

That’s what I thought today when I came across a little boy walking home from school, along the neighborhood streets of Chicago. He was frightened by Ruby; he said, I shouldn’t have come this way! Ruby, of course, was entirely indifferent to him. She doesn’t dislike kids; she doesn’t dislike other people at all. But she doesn’t offer her slavish love, either. She’s a German Shepherd. Into her people, and not much else.

I watched him continue on his way, so small to my eyes, and I thought about some neighbors I once had in Indiana. We lived in an entirely residential area, an area wherein we walked to school. Maybe 10 blocks? I’d be shocked if it was a mile. But you know, given the epidemic of childhood obesity, would it be wrong for a kid to have to walk a couple miles a day? Given their energy level, good lord, they should be forced to sprint at least that. But I digress.

So these fine people, and they really were very nice, they decided to move to another area because they didn’t want their kids to have to walk to school.

On the other hand, I suppose when your kids are still little, why make them an easy target for pedophiles?

Yet, here in Chicago, I watch his little self walk down the street alone.

New thread: I’ve noticed that my concentration level can be accurately gauged by my crossword puzzle performance. I’ve got a book of easy level New York Times crossword puzzles, plus a puzzle-a-day calendar, plus a Tuesday-level book, and finally, a Wednesday-level book. (I’m committed to my goal of completing a Sunday-level crossword puzzle. No real progress on finding a “real” job, but by golly, I can do a crossword puzzle.)

I just distracted myself there.

I think I was trying to say that I have several different puzzle levels which to gauge my acumen. Some days, I can’t finish an easy level, but the other day, I almost finished a Wednesday puzzle. It’s not that the puzzles are inaccurately evaluated for difficulty; sometimes I’ll go back to a Monday puzzle that I couldn’t finish, and whip through it when my mind is clearer and I’m less distracted by something.

Oh, I should start a crossword puzzle social networking group on Ning. I can’t quite figure out what the hell Ning is, but it is my new addiction. There are all these social networks of blogs, and I’ve come across some lovely people. There’s a guy in Canada I am particularly fond of. I’ll have to look up his link again. I’ll write more about him. I read his blog several days ago, and it has really resonated with me.

Off to the side, there’s some links over there, all of which lead to Ning.com. I joined Nerdfighters, and I think I might be the oldest one on there. First, the name confused the bejesus out of me. Because Nerdfighters says “fighting nerds” to me. but I was wrong. It’s nerds who are fighting evil. I think they say suck, instead of evil. Just out fighting sucky things. They really deserve a more accurate description than I seem able to provide (I’m going to make a crossword prediction for tonight: not good). The website and blogs seem devoted to just being positive. Their motto? Don’t Forget To Be Awesome. It almost makes me a little bit weepy. On television, we have Gossip Girl, a ridiculous celebration of snarky, bitchy, seemingly amoral teenagers with too much money that they didn’t lift a finger to earn, and in the real world, nerdfighters.

I say that I’m the oldest one there because there does seem to be a lot of teenagers, some of whom have added me as their friend (on-line this amounts to featuring each others blogs on our pages–I think), and I felt a little . . . strange about it. I’m 20+ years older . . . how appropriate is a “friendship”?

Then I got over myself.

Intergenerational friendships, particularly between the sexes, seem a little taboo here in America . . . true or false? I would argue that Americans have a largely warped view of sexuality. Everything is sexualized here. I was watching the end of Lost tonight–I don’t watch it regularly, and I just caught a few minutes–but a female character ws preparing to reunite with her small son, and I found her wardrobe completely inaccurate. Who wears a satin or silky blouse unbuttoned to mid-boob, heels and a snug little pencil skirt to hang out with her kid? I watch this all the time now, what women are wearing on television, the insane amount of make-up spackled on them, the cleavage, the insanely tiny bodies. Media has hyper-sexualized women.

Watch television. In what universe do oafish, overweight men regularly attract and marry stunning women?

In my mind, all of this is related. I realize that stuff in my neural network doesn’t always translate to the written word. Oversexualization of our culture, coexisting with an essentially puritan attitude towards its actual implementation . . . repression! Like an alcoholic in a liquor store, so a coping mechanism is to demonize it.

In an extremely roundabout, poorly written way, I’m trying to say that I think teenagers would benefit from more adult interaction outside of their parents. (Note to self: money where mouth is? Big Brothers/Big Sisters? Mentoring a foster kid?) My opinions are formed in part from teaching teenagers. I spent a year as the assistant speech coach, which was a most enjoyable way to spend Saturdays outside of sleep and/or margaritas. Who wouldn’t want to get up at the crack of dawn and travel on a school bus with a load of squirrelly, hormone-y teenagers?? That’s what I’m sayin’!

Again, I digress. My point is, my role as assistant coach was pretty loose. I was not an adult who graded them, or kept their attendance, or decided whether they’d get a varsity letter . . . their interaction with me was largely entirely voluntary, and it yielded one of the most meaningful experiences of my life, entirely because (I think) it was casual, organic. There was space and time for them to figure out on their terms who I could be for them, and I think my advice to them meant that much more, because it was on their terms. I think that most people are pretty unreceptive to advice unless they’ve solicited it, which makes sense.

To me, anyway.

I’ll have to re-read this tomorrow and see if I can edit it for a bit of clarity.