My sixteen year old son is
obsessed with owning a leather jacket.
It's not just any leather jacket; he insists on black leather. I could handle that, but, he wants one with
silver zippers, a few shiny, chrome buttons strategically located over the
breast bones and, last but not least, wide lapels. He wants a jacket
porpularized by Marl
You've seen them. They are worn by those who are anachronisms
from the fifties, sitting on or zooming by on large, monstrous Harleys,
terrorizing the citizens of small town, USA Marl
I have nothing against
leather whether it be black, brown or tan.
In fact, I own a brown leather jacket.
It's my favorite. It's warm and
comfortable yet, it doesn't stand out in a crowd, drawing disdaining stares
from others. No one suspects me of
having an infatuation with motorcycles nor do they conclude from my appearance
that I'm into something kinky. But, Jeff
won't even consider a tasteful leather jacket and, he doesn't understand my
opposition to one that is commonly associated with less-than-desirable members
of society.
Never mind the fact that the
cost of leather motorcycle jackets run anywhere from $200 to over $300. Jeff must believe that money grows on trees
or on exaggerated lapels.
"Look at this one,"
I prod, showing him the $159 price tag on an attractive, black leather jacket.
He snubs his nose at it.
"It's not me."
He's obstinate. Why does he try so hard at being
different? Being different isn't
necessarily bad, nor is it outrageous.
Many brilliant people have been different, but, few have worn black,
leather motorcycle jackets, except of course for Brando. Jeff may be different but he certainly hasn’t
yet shown anything remotely brilliant.Different behavior - the kind that's not
within the realm of the law or social mores - is outrageous.
We continue to search for a
compromise, something he could wear as an expression of his unique identity and
something I could accept not only for its price but also for its general
appearance.
He is unwilling to
compromise, even just a little.
I try a different
approach.
"Jeff, I've never spent
$200 on a jacket or suit for myself. I'm
certainly not going to spend that much for a jacket you might wear for a year
and a half."
Hopefully, he will attend
college after graduating high school. "No one wears those things on college
campuses," I protest. "So why
should I spend that kind of money on a jacket you'll wear for only a year?"
He shrugs his shoulders, his
face takes on an expression of complete disdain.
"Besides," his
mother interjects, "the kinds of people who wear those jackets are thought
of as hoodlums, generally, bad people."
"Well, what about my
friends? Zack, Vince and Gary wear
them. Do they look like bad
people?" he asks.
Janice and I look at each
other and bite our tongues. We'd prefer
not to answer.
"Look at the people in
this shopping center," I suggest, pointing around with a general sweep of
my hand. "I haven't seen one person
wearing a jacket like that," I add triumphantly.
Again, he shrugs his
shoulders. His face is expressionless..
We continue to walk, not
speaking. OOPS, there's a kid wearing a
shiny, black, leather motorcycle jacket.
"If you really want one,
get a job and spend your own hard-earned money," I advise him.
We left the warmth of the
mall and searched the crowded parking lot for our car. The Memphis
"Well," Jeff
retorts, "will you take me to an army surplus store and buy me a green,
army jacket?"
"I'll consider it."
"Well, what am I
supposed to do about the weather in the meantime?" he asks.
"Freeze," his
mother snaps.
© December 1989
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