An Open Letter to Glenn Beck
Dear Mr. Beck (you sick, twisted freak),
You have what is quite possibly one of the bravest shows on television. And, I’m not just saying that because you actually put yourself on television every night. I’m saying that because you put yourself on television and have the audacity to be completely open and honest and only do stuff that comes straight from your heart. Thank you.
My wife and I are huge fans of both shows, but last night you took a huge chance with one particular segment and you lost our audience. You started talking about “Sam I Am” and your son.
Before you jump to conclusions, let me paint this picture for you. I, too, am a pasty, fluffy white guy who happens to be one of the luckiest men on the planet. I have a beautiful wife and two amazing and gorgeous children who love me regardless of how stupid and male I can be sometimes. I also have a great job: I’m a university theatre professor (don’t jump to any conclusions…that’s a topic for another time). That means that this summer, I’m getting to stay home with my children while my wife has started her new job. We’ve gone through some pretty trying financial troubles in the past years and, unfortunately, we both have to work which means putting the kids in daycare. However, when the opportunity presented itself for me to stay home with this this summer, we jumped on it. It also means that I’m a Stay-At-Home-Dad this summer and I’m in charge of all things domestic (may God have mercy on my wife’s sanity).
Last night during your show, we had all four just finished dinner (which we usually eat while your show is on) and were sitting back enjoying the show after a meal that I cooked for my family and you started the segment on spending time with your son and reading to him. We couldn’t finish the show. I have no idea how your show ended or what the segment was really about. My wife and I looked at each other and without saying a word, turned off the TV, bathed the kids and spent time with our children before their bedtime. This is what I mean by saying you have the bravest show on television.
Now, we love to read to our kids. I’ve been reading Shakespeare to my kids since the moment they were born (my four-year-old daughter asks for his stories by name). However, last night, our daughter surprised us and offered to tell us a story. So, we sat down on the couch and watched as our daughter told us (and acted out) the story of a young princess who got to spend the weekend with her fairy grandmother (she got to go to Memphis to see Graceland). We were treated to a precious mini-monologue about the entire adventure and her finally getting to come home to her Queen Mommy and King Daddy and to be able to play with her brother, the beautiful Prince. It wasn’t just a story, she relived the entire story for us in our living room. The best part is that it now only exists in our memories. I was completely caught off guard and didn’t have the time to get the video camera out to capture it (which is my normal impulse). I was able to capture another of her stories and posted it here.
I swear I don’t know where she inherited her love for a good story or her absolute inhibition in front of an audience. I do know that the latter scares the crap out of me because I can flash forward 15 years from now.
So, I am very blessed. And, I thank you for getting it. When callers call your show, some of them use the phrase “I get it.” The more amazing thing is that you get it and have the ability and bravery to share it with us every day. Thank you.