Brett Berk

While in Alaska last week, giving a reading from his stellar book The Gay Uncle”s Guide to Parenting, Gunc had the opportunity to engage in a Q&A with some parents up in The Last Frontier. Turns out that they generally have the same questions as folks in the lower 48 (though they tend to have more bear meat in their freezers).

One universalizable issue that came up up north revolved around playdates. In a small community like Anchorage””where everyone seems to know each other, and where (like everywhere) some folks are annoying, intolerant, or insane””parents worried about engaging their kids in friendships with children whose parents they didn”t personally like.

You read it here first. The G.U. sayeth: You are not required to be friends with the parents of your child”s peers. In fact, it can be beneficial to forego connections to them and let your kids make friends ON THEIR OWN. Why? How? Click on over to his weekly MOMLOGIC column to discover five killer reasons.

The Gay Uncle returned home from Alaska to find that a backlog of magazines had piled up in his absence. Being compulsive, he spent a good portion of the weekend catching up. And lo and behold, he discovered a piece in The New Yorker all about little childrens. It concerns a series of experiments designed to test kids’ ability to control their impulses and delay gratification, and shows that this is an excellent predictor of success later in life. The Gay Uncle obviously knew this already, but it was good to see proof of the benefits of not indulging a kid’s every whim and desire, and helping them to understand the utility of planning, waiting, and reserving resources for future use (and the costs of not doing so) spelled out and proven in a clear (and often humorous) way. In keeping with the G.U. credo–which posits that it’s never too late to make a change–the piece also indicates that just because you have a child with weak impulse control or you’ve been incapable of helping them figure things out by setting clear limits and providing and following through on repercussions thus far that your kid is doomed to a life of poor choices. It actually advocates for overtly instructing kids on these relevant skills and helping them see the positive outcomes. Given his dabbling in understanding the teenage brain–which includes discussions with Harvard Med School faculty Neuroscientists, as well as ongoing contact with many of his preschool students, who are now teens–Gunc can only say that providing neural pathways that foster impulse control now when your child is young will pay major dividends later, when their frontal lobe–the control center for risk management and cost/benefit analysis–needs all the help it can get. Plan ahead, parents!

This week in his MOMLOGIC column, The Gay Uncle teaches you how to (respectfully) staunch the flow of garbagey grandmotherly gifts. Check it out.

The Gay Uncle is safely home from Alaska. And he wants to share some knowledge with you all regarding the struggles parents suffer through up there in our nation’s last frontier. Here’s a list he collected from his new friends in the extreme Pacific NorthWest. He wants folks to feel free to add others if they’re up there and feel he missed something important.

-Too cold to play outside
-Too dark – can’t see on the playground
-Seasonal Affect Disorder Extreme: kids are impacted by the sunrise/sunset times and can’t sleep/sleep too much
-Not enough vitamin D (see too dark): seasonal rickets, etc.
-Crappy produce that’s expensive, requiring a default to canned options; variety is not great; organics are hideously expensive and all the organic stuff we get in winter is shipped and nasty when it gets here
-Everything costs a ton
-It truly seems that everyone knows everyone
-We have a winter festival at the end of February – one can go on the Spin & Puke at -10F and see what happens.
-Transition/displacement (military families, slope workers who are 3 weeks on/1 week off, for instance – either the kids or their friends are constantly moving)
-Moose right outside the door – can’t leave the house on time
-People try to give teachers home-canned salmon as a gift
-When we read “Little Bear”, we have to give the caveat that real bears don’t ask their mothers for hats, and that real bears will eat you.
-On fourth of July, it’s not dark enough to see the fireworks very well. It mostly looks like some light poles are on fire.
-If you try to walk on the coast (off the trail), you can sink in the tidal mud. And die.
-Eagles all over the place (they are scavengers and aggressive)
-We have actual Belugas. Baby Belugas, too. Right in town. Which requires singing that blasted song all the time.
-No “snow days”. Even when we got 12″ of snow in 24 hours.

Just in time for Mother’s Day, here’s a link to an article the Gay Uncle just published about his own mommy. It was supposed to be called, “My Mother is Trying to Out-Gay Me”, but the Advocate had their own ideas for the title (and this illustration). Check it out.

When the Gay Uncle was younger, he had a Canadian friend who possessed an intriguing verbal tic. Whenever he’d use an idiomatic expression, he’d curtail it: skipping the second half, and substituting in the ever so Canuck term, “Eh?” So, for example, when discussing the difficulty of forcing someone to do something, he might come out with, “You can lead a horse to water, eh?” Or when commenting on the superiority of the sure thing, he might opine, “A bird in the hand, eh?” Why is Gunc plaguing you with this information? Because it’s Mother’s Day, and as we all know from personal experience, and/or from watching Schoolhouse Rock, most of the great inventions that ushered in our excellent modern era–including The Gay Uncle’s Guide to Parenting–were born of maternal desperation. In other words, “Necessity’s the mother, eh?”

The G.U. is celebrating Mother’s Day exactly as he should: far away from any parents or kids, in an inn in rural Alaska. But that doesn’t mean he’s not thinking of all you mommies out there. And to you, he raises his Bloody Mary and says, “Thank you! (Eh?)” Without you and your need for his expertise, he wouldn’t have a career. And his life would be boring, empty, and meaningless.

Happy Mother’s Day.

What does it look like in Alaska at 11:30 p.m. in May? Just like this. That’s right, while it’s nearly midnight here, the purple mountains still loom majestically in the daylight, birds twitter, and people are awake and out walking around the lake or fixing their roofs. It’s amazing that the kids can get into any trouble here at all this time of year, since they have no cover of darkness under which to operate. Of course, the Gay Uncle supposes that the opposite is probably true on the other side of the annual spectrum, and that during the long Alaskan winter it’s dark all the time, and there’s nothing for the teens to do but fuck.

The Gay Uncle had a spectacular time at the Jewish Education Center preschool in Anchorage Alaska yesterday (frozenchosen.org) He spent the morning hanging out with the little frontiersmen and frontierswomen, talking about tundra and dinosaurs, and answering their questions about what the hell he was doing at their school. (Gunc: “Good question, Jedediah.”)

Then, that evening, he returned to the school, and took his place up on the Bimah (Altar, for you Goyim) and proceeded to read, make snarky wisecracks, and answer parents’ and teachers’ excellent and honest questions for a couple hours (“What do you do if one of your children is extremely manipulative?” “How do I keep the Kindergartners from ganging up on me?”) He then signed and sold a couple cases of books, which, as far as he can tell, means that he now has influence over about 10% of the state’s population. He looks forward to seeing how this plays out during the next gubernatorial election.

Anchorage is surrounded by pristine inlets, glacial lakes, and spectacular snow-covered mountains, and is ringed by a well-maintained coastal trail that offers extensive walking and biking paths. The Gay Uncle knows because he walked about six miles of them yesterday and at each turn came upon another astonishing view of the natural landscape. But that doesn’t mean that the first thing he spotted wasn’t a scangy, spottily facial-haired, shirtless, 26 year-old guy giving a lap dance to his fat girlfriend on the public access ramp that led to the shoreline trail. Oh, and this graffiti.

It’s not instructive. And it doesn’t have anything to do with kids. But it is delicious. What is it? A giant floret of Alaskan smoked salmon that showed up at the Gay Uncle’s room in Anchorage this morning as part of his room service breakfast. He is now off to visit Congregation Beth Sholom to ensure that his handlers have communicated his need for the proper bottled fizzy water and that the multicolored rose petals that will be scattered along the path he’ll walk this evening before his reading are pink, red, and orange (not the tacky yellow they had strewn about at some of his other events. Ugh.) He also wants to hand select some (attractive and inactive) children to be part of a photo op.