Last week on my way to work, I was read this article in TIME Magazine, concerning over-parenting. The article discussed how parents these days are putting their children in bubbles and shielding them from all possible harms in the world. We all know that it's not possible to do that and in my opinion, actually harmful to the growth of their children.

In the article, they mentioned someone nicknamed, "The Worst Mother in America." Her name is Lenore Skenazy, a mother in New York who allowed her 9 year old son to ride the NYC subway home on his own, unsupervised. She wrote a column about it and when news got out, she received sharp criticisms for endangering the welfare of her son. After reading that part, I quickly googled her when I got to work and read for myself the story.

Basically, what happened was that her son always wanted to try to go home by himself and one day, she decided to allow him to do that.  She gave him $20, some quarters and a metrocard.  She didn't leave him a cellphone.  She left him in Bloomingdales's on 59th and Lexington Ave and left.  She didn't tail him and waited till he got home safe. 

Was it really that dangerous for her to allow her 9 year old son to ride the subway and bus alone in New York City?  Besides the risk of terrorist and nuclear attacks, New York City is probably one of the safest major cities in the world.  The chance of being kidnapped and abducted is extremely unlikely.  I grew up in Brooklyn and was able to ride the subway on my own when I was 10.  This was almost 18 years ago, during a time where it was definitely less safe.  Even in hindsight, I didn't think it was anything out of the ordinary.  All my friends rode the subway alone.

When I was a kid, we always played outside--riding our bikes around and going to the parks to play ball.  I realized that kids don't play on the streets anymore these days.  Most kids usually just go over to each others' houses and play video games or surf the web together.  A couple of years ago, I lived in an apartment where the landlord did not allow her 15 year-old son to go to the movies with his friends.  When I was 15, I was all around New York City during the day and going to parties at night.  I grew up in a time where there were many gangs--where you couldn't even look at certain people directly in the eye because they would come over and cause trouble. 

Anyway, I'm sure that if I lived in a dangerous area of Brooklyn, my parents wouldn't allow me to take the train unsupervised.  I'm sure Mrs. Skenazy knew that the route home was safe.  She was teaching her 9 year-old son how to be independent and in case of an emergency, how to take care of himself and get home.  Parenting is about being there and preparing your children for the outside world, not shielding them in a bubble and protecting them from it.  Like the example I used in my email to her, I think parents these days are like Purell.  People think using Purell is good, but in fact, it actually weakens your body's natural defenses against germs and bacteria.  Parents are weakening their childrens' natural ability to take care of themselves in the outside world, not protecting them from every possible harm.

Obviously, I am just touching on the topic.  Read the TIME article I linked, Lenore Skenazy's original article on letting her son ride the MTA (which I also linked), her follow-up article on the Huffington Post and if curious, even her blog, Free Range Kids.  We might not all agree with allowing our children to ride public transportation alone, but I'm sure that if we took a step back, we would notice that children are not growing up the same way we did.  Generally speaking, kids are more emo, have a greater sense of entitlement and less sense of independence.  Can we blame them for this kind of behavior or should we direct the responsibility to their parents?

My dad asked me yesterday if I was "addicted to alcohol." This question came when he watched me pour my single serving of Macallan, realizing that I had also poured myself one the night before. I told him that I wasn't, but I liked to drink, especially to relax--especially when there's nothing to do. He compared it to his addiction to cigarettes when he was younger--citing that he usually smoked because he had nothing to do.

I assured him that I wasn't addicted and brought my glass upstairs to my room to finish Gran Torino. I don't know what it is, but there's nothing like a scotch and good movie to put the stresses of the world aside.

Though as I sat down, I wondered if I was really addicted. Maybe I'm not, but I will be or maybe I am and I'm in denial. Being really honest with myself, I love the taste of scotch, ales and petite syrahs. At times, I even crave for them. Yet, I hate the feeling of being drunk and I never consume much--a serving or two if I'm just trying to relax, or a couple of more when I'm with people. Not enough to be a cause of concern. Besides, I'm trying to save money now and I have cut my consumption to about 3-4 drinks per week, down from about 20. That's at least 80%!

I will admit though that I wish I was consuming more. I usually pour myself a double, but trying to keep things in moderation with only a single serving. The other day, I drove to seven liquor stores around Staten Island to try and find Macallan, 12 year. It took me over an hour and I don't know how much gas from my gas-guzzling SUV. But I finally found it and boy was it worth it.

I think long-time readers know about my unquenchable thirst for alcoholic beverages. Contrary to popular belief, I don't pride myself to be someone who loves alcohol, but it's certainly not something I hide either. The bottle of scotch is placed in the living room, so it's not something I hide from my parents. I even offered my mom some Sunday night since she enjoys recreational drinking as well.

My dad didn't lecture me or tell me that alcohol was bad for me. He was merely trying to gauge my level of desire to drink. I think it isn't to the point of concern yet. At least not until he signs for the 10 bottles of Stags Leap Petite Syrah (2006) that will be delievered today. We'll see how the discussion goes tonight.

Do you think I'm addicted? What are your thoughts on alcohol? If you like it, is it for the feeling or the taste? What's your drink of choice?

There are two types of people: those who are easily pleased and see the silver lining with almost everything. And then there are those who are critics, people who look and pick for flaws. Sure there are those who might consider themselves in between, but in my opinion, people usually lean a little towards one side or the other.

Can one argue that those who are easily pleased don't have standards? Sure one can make such an argument, but the truth is, it's not always a lack of standards, but sometimes a personality trait of acceptance and satisfaction/contentment. In the greater sense of things, it's not really THAT important to nitpick. These people may or may not know what quality is, but that's not important. They only make their decisions based on whether something makes them happy or not. They don't try to quantify happiness.

The exact opposite can be said about those who are hard to please. They have an opinion about everything and often have numerical 1-10 rating scales to properly apply a rating and compare two things, even if the two things happen to be apples and oranges.

The extreme form of these people are considered snobs: people who shun anything but the best. Often educated and having a bit of money, they have unquenchable thirst for the finer things in life and they actively search for the best quality of their fancy.

Of course there are many who seek the same kind of quality and not considered to be snobs. The difference is simply their lack of snobbery, and an understanding that things of below the best of quality are still acceptable.

How do people become critics? I think it has a lot to do with their upbringing and who their role models were growing up. For example, my parents are completely different. My mom was taught to accept what was placed in front of her and not to be picky. She grew up into someone who didn't care if food was good or not. She would eat it as long as it's edible. My dad was really poor, but took after my grandfather who was nitpicky about things. If you're going to do something, it has to be done perfectly.

My dad is extremely hard to please. Me being a straight-A student was never good enough for him. I had to be the best. It took like seven years for him to finally think ONE of the things I made for dinner was good. I wouldn't say I'm the best cook, but I think I can cook pretty well. In my dad's eyes, I'm okay at best. Wednesday night was the first time in probably half a year that he complimented my cooking again. When I was young, he would complain if something wasn't to his liking and then not eat it. Pretty frustrating to deal with, but it forced me to try harder to please him and thus I became someone who also seeker a certain kind of quality.

My girlfriend told me that she was really happy when I complimented one of her entries. Apparently, compliments didn't come often from me. I never even really noticed. My friend Lizzie felt the same way when I complimented one of her entries.

I always knew I was a critic, but who'd knew that I turned into someone like my dad. People like me must be annoying to be around--always having something to say about everything, not listening to the radio because I think contemporary music sucks, applying a rating on ever movie I've seen on Netflix, not drinking American lagers or cheap alcohol and prefers bespoke anything. I don't even want to mention about food because that's a whole another thing I'm anal about.

Are you easily pleased or a critic? If in between, which side do you lean more towards? Do you dislike people who are on the other side? I ask that because honestly, I always have to quantify quality and it's annoying when people simply use two forms of expression: "I like it" or "I don't like it."