So anyway, 9 year old Jackson, 2 year old Dylan, mom and I are watching the opening ceremonies of the 2012 Olympics in London.
I take that back. Dylan is taking the chewed gum out of his mouth and throwing it at the television.
Anyway, London puts on a great show, and suddenly I realize from below the ground in the stadium rise a bunch of industrial sized smoke stacks – and as they rise, they billow smoke (dry ice, I guess) meant to represent coal, ash, and other industrial toxins the first world created and that were inhaled by Ebenezer Scrooge, Oliver Twist and the Artful Dodger, and some real people, too, back in the day of the dawn of the 20th century.
“What’s that?” Jack asks.
“Smoke stacks.” I say.
“Why do they have smoke stacks?”
“To celebrate human achievement” I say. “”Lung cancer, unsafe working conditions, child labor -”
“What’s child labor?” he asks.
“Black lung – child labor is what you do for your allowance.”
“Is that bad?”
“Not to me.” I say.
“What did they do in Beijing in two thousand and eight?”
“They showed defectors and dissidents. They had this guy standing in front of a tank holding a flower.”
“Huh.” Jack says, digesting the moment.