David McElroy

I ran into a friend Monday afternoon who I hadn’t seen for awhile. I knew he had gotten married about 18 months or so ago, but I hadn’t heard any news of him since. He had some news for me. He and his wife had a baby boy a few months back, so he’s a father now.

I was happy for my friend, but I was also envious — because having my own family is something I’m really eager for. I’ve always known that I wanted children, and I want them even more as the years pass.

I’m glad I didn’t have kids when I was much younger, because I’m not sure I’d adequately dealt with my own childhood baggage to be a good parent. I fear that I might have left them just as damaged as I’d felt if I’d taken on the responsibility years ago. I feel ready now, but I’m under the impression that convincing the right woman to be the mother is a key prerequisite.

As I thought about all this again, I wondered — not for the first time — why human beings seem so driven to have families. Having children isn’t logical. They cost us money. There’s rarely a “return on investment” in the pragmatic sense. So why do most of us feel so driven to create families?

Keep Reading

In the last 48 hours, Paul Ryan has been crowned the great hope of fiscal conservatives. If they honestly believe that, they’re more desperate than I thought, because the only way to see Ryan as fiscally conservative is to completely ignore his record.

It seems that the presumptive GOP vice presidential nominee is seen as a fiscal conservative simply because of his budget proposal in the House. His proposal would have balanced the budget without raising taxes, but it was an absolute fairy tale of a proposal, partly because it would have required decades of future presidents and Congresses to stick to it as laid out. Is there anybody in the world stupid enough to believe that’s even remotely possible?

Mainstream political reporters are painting the selection of Ryan as a turn to the “radical right” to placate the Tea Party’s supporters. A writer for Time magazine even said that Ryan was the choice of the “libertarians on the Wall Street Journal editorial board….” (I haven’t run into any actual libertarians yet who are excited about Ryan.)

Keep Reading

I’m a really, really good liar. Seriously, I am. When I was growing up, I learned at home how to do it right, even though the same person who taught me how to do it so well would punish me for lying to him.

From a very early age, I learned to answer the phone when my father was dodging certain phone calls. I was coached in exactly what to say to which people, completely without regard to the truth, of course. I was frequently casually informed of lies so I could be sure to back up one of my father’s lies if it came up in conversation.

For instance, we were one time on the way to visit my father’s boss when he told me to say that my foot was fine if I was asked about it. He had needed an excuse to leave work one day, so he claimed that I had been injured by having a lawnmower blade hit my foot. (He had read a tiny news item about it happening to another boy, so he just transferred the story to me when it was convenient.) Things such as this were common for me.

As I said, though, lying to him was strictly forbidden. If I was caught doing it — and I was, from time to time — I was severely punished.

Keep Reading