Watch it, Buster

Last night, I watched a documentary about Buster Keaton. And it occurred to me, if his folks hadn't thrown him around on the stage, he might never have become a great filmmaker.

His parents were reported for whatever was termed child endangerment at the time. But because of a loophole in the way the law was written, they were able to continue with their act for years, until Buster went out on his own.

He used what he learned from his childhood and adolescence to comedic advantage all through his films. Which are still amazing to watch today. His acrobatics and timing are breathtaking.

Not that I'm saying parents should throw their offspring around like hot potatoes, but it is interesting how our perspective on child rearing has changed.

Before the turn of the last century, the concept of children as bundles of joy, as opposed to extra farm hands or wage earners, was something of a novelty.

Fast-forward to the post-World War II generation. My parents set out to have four kids and wound up with six. They stoically accepted whatever the Good Lord sent their way, tightening their belts, and we made do with the same school uniform for another year. (Good thing the hems were generous.)

We all had minor chores around the house, but we certainly didn't earn our keep. It's not like we had to get up at 4 am to milk the cows or sell newspapers on the street corner. And we never went hungry (unless we refused to eat cube "steak" or city "chicken").

As parents, Mr. Ginley and I wanted our kid to have it better than we did. But we were careful not to go overboard. I think Joe turned out pretty well. I imagine he will identify experiences from his childhood and use them to shape his adulthood. Hopefully, he will take with him the laughter, the joy of learning and the love.

And enough stories to write a memoir. Or a novel.

I just hope he's gotten over his Dad demoting him to house plant.