The Tribune

By INIGO 'NAUGHTY' ZENICAZELAYA

A funny thing happened on the way to calming my sons down after an afternoon playing baseball.

They said they were hungry, and being the (guilty) fast food parent I am when I’m pressed for time, I immediately bribed him with a trip to the nearest Drive-thru. (It’s amazing how much cooperation you can get out of children when you bring chicken nuggets to the negotiating table!)

As expected, they were pleasantly quiet on the drive back home as they salivated in the backseat with wide eyes and no doubt savage dreams of ripping open their kid’s meals as soon as we set foot in the house.

Ever since his mother — my wife — got on her super-healthy food trip, everyone in our home has been going through some sort of French fries withdrawal.

I will admit even the dogs have been giving me dirty looks as I shovel tons of leftover carrots and peas into their bowls. So this divergence — on this day — was a real treat for my boy.

What I didn’t expect was the loud scream that emanated from my youngest son mere seconds after he tore into his food container, “WOW! Daddy, look… a radio!”

A radio?

I knew the silent war to lure our children into a lifetime allegiance to the world of fast food was a relentless and expensive one, but surely there couldn’t be an actual radio in that box, could there?

Sure enough, there was a little red mp3 player-like object in my son’s hands which he was quickly able to determine was a radio.

It even came with a pair of little red ear plugs.

Before I could digest the irony that he may now be just as invested in the world of radio as I am, it dawned on me that the batteries I was putting into this little player probably cost more than the thing itself.

It was, after all, free right?

That got me thinking of how happy my son was with his find, this seemingly dinky little treasure of his with three buttons and a light. Would he still feel the same way in a few years when he realised it couldn’t store fifty gazillion songs, and didn’t have the letters SONY or a picture of a half-eaten apple on it?

As much as we sometimes indulge our children to no end we also teach them (or allow them to learn) that everything has a price and a value.

Somehow, along the way, they learn that expensive equals good and therefore cheap must equal bad.

I don’t know exactly when… but it happened to me, too.

I only remember begging my mother for a pair of Clarks for the new school year because the “sweet water” tennis shoes I’d kicked rocks with all summer long definitely would not be seen as cool.

Then I needed the freshest clothes (expensive) and best toys (expensive), not to mention the pocket change I begged for because all my friends were getting an allowance.

An allowance!

When I think back now I know I never did live up to my end of the bargain.

Many days the dogs were ready to burst as they waited to be walked and the garbage was left steaming as I neglected to take it out but I was always ready to throw a well-rehearsed tantrum for that allowance.

Because I wanted things… cool things… and cool things cost money.

When we are young (and sometimes not-so-young) we don’t realise the sacrifices our parents and family make in order to afford even small luxuries in life, and this generation — Eddie Minnis would say the “gimme me” generation — is not inclined to learn that lesson just yet.

How much have we spent on designer clothes when the only real difference between a shirt and the one next to it is the price tag and the emblem on the pocket?

Don’t get me wrong, I know sometimes you do get what you pay for but if we are honest with ourselves we will admit it all comes from the same place.

(Hello, China!)

It’s gotten so bad that we hardly ever refer to the product but rather the brand: It’s, “My MacBook Air,” or “My iPhone,” or “My 2018 Aston Martin v12 Vantage.” (Ok, maybe that last one snuck in from my many daydreams).

The point is why can’t we just see things for what they are?

At the end of the day, you have a decent computer, a decent phone and a (very) decent car.

But that’s all they are and all they will ever be; if you hit anything hard enough it will break.

Since my son got his “radio”, all his other toys have been abandoned like a Republican debt ceiling plan.

Those trendier (expensive) playthings mean absolutely zero to him right now.

There’s an old expression that says if you want to make something expensive make it free. These days, I had begun to think if you want to make something undesirable make it free.

But a funny thing happened on the way to calming my sons down after an afternoon playing baseball — fast food lecture aside — I learned the value of spending time with my boys and that when you are still innocent enough and genuine enough, you realise the best things in life can still be free.

I love my wife, but that “health food” will kill you. (Real men don’t eat quiche!)

I wonder my sons are ready to go hail up the “Colonel” with their Dad?