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W
hen my daughter was smaller, she wanted
to buy Disney princess shoes with built-in
lights that shone at every step.
“Are you CRAZY?” I said. “What about
when Jimmy Savile is chasing you through a dark forest
with imaginatively constructed weapons of torture?”
She saw my point and I saved some money. Phew.
Yeah, I’m a mean, evil, despicable monster, but does that
automatically make me a bad person?
I share this anecdote to introduce my theme:
Information is power. Dads of young children, be warned:
Your window of opportunity disappears fast.
One day they’re writing letters to the tooth fairy on
pink paper, and the next they are saying: “Dad, the serial
number reveals that the Fender Stratocaster you bought
me was made in a south Asian sweatshop. Take it back and
bring me another, you useless piece of dreck.”
When my children talk to me like this, I take care to
respond in a way that shows them who’s boss.
I back out of their rooms on my knees with my head
covered, apologizing.
Among adults, they say that brutal honesty is the best
policy, but it can be disconcerting. On a bus in Sri Lanka, a
friendly stranger asked me: “So, how much do you earn?”
I explained that I lived in a developed society where the
breadwinner likes to keep his earnings a closely held secret.
“Why?” he asked.
Good question. In Finland every year, the tax
department prints a list of amounts paid WITH FULL
NAMES. This means that if you’re a struggling dad
who lives in a cardboard hovel but pay more tax than
your neighbour, a super-rich guy in a huge mansion, you
Stay sharp
Dads are all-powerful,
but not for long, says
Nury Vittachi.
can instantly work out that you live in a grossly unfair
place such as the northern hemisphere or the southern
hemisphere. (Other planets don’t seem to have this
problem.)
Wait. A cynical colleague has just pointed out that lists
of taxpayers are really just lists of people who lack Swiss
bank accounts. This is true. The recent HSBC Swiss bank
revelations were shocking. Since for some unaccountable
reason it is illegal to blow up the Swiss banking system, at
least we should pass laws forcing Swiss bankers and their
clients to use accurate words for what they do.
Instead of “open a savings account” they should be
forced to say “hide the plunder”.
Instead of “in-house advisors” they should be forced to
say “experienced henchmen”.
Instead of “banking fees charged” they should be forced
to say “our share of the spoils”.
Instead of “deposit boxes” they should be forced to say
“stash concealment hideaways”.
Instead of “privacy protections” they should be forced to
say “haul cover-up system”.
Instead of “annual profits” they should be forced to say
“this year’s booty”.
The Swiss bankers will no doubt carry on doing what
they do, but at least the rest of us can feel the pride of being
righteous people with unimpeachably high morals.
But setting those aside for a minute, my duties as a dad
beckon: does anyone reading this know how to forge the
serial number on a cut-price Fender Stratocaster?
Nury welcomes your comments and ideas at his Facebook
page:
.
last word
