Advice From the Inner Sanctum

By Denise Adams

While cleaning out the kitchen drawer, I came across a dance ticket stub, a memento of the first dance my son attended in middle school. I remember he didn't want to attend the dance, and I tried everything to talk him into going. I reminded him the school dance is a social function and a way to meet new people.

His older brother was toasting some waffles during this conversation, listening to my conversation, waiting for me to run out of steam. When it seemed I was losing the battle, Nick stepped in and decided that he would become Professor Higgins and transform his little brother into a party machine.

"Oh yes, you are going to that dance," he said with authority. "I'll teach you everything you need to know about girls, dancing and having a good time. Mom, leave it all to me."

Honored that his older brother was treating him like an equal, the two headed up the stairs and huddled together in the Professor's classroom, usually known as the "Keep Out - This Means You, Little Brother - Room." For this important mentoring session, the rules were relaxed, and an awe-struck younger brother was granted access to the inner sanctum.

The next day, my son told me he'd bought his ticket to the dance. He was going. When I acted surprised, he nonchalantly replied, "Oh, Nick talked me into it." So much for motherly guidance. It seems a 17-year-old high school senior had eclipsed me in the parental sky.

The afternoon of the dance, pupil and mentor met for the all-important choice of clothes.

"Wear something that looks cool," advised Nick. So they started rummaging around in Nick's closet, looking for suitable dance clothes.

Over their shoulders, I suggested that a nice button-down shirt and a pair of dress slacks would look very becoming. In unison, I was ordered out of the room and told to wait downstairs for the big entrance.

Thirty minutes later, my middle son entered the kitchen, hair combed and styled, the scent of his older brother's cologne lingering in the air and wearing a trendy shirt and blue jeans. He had, indeed, been transformed into a confident, handsome teen-ager, ready to conquer the middle school world.

Before leaving for the dance, however, the Professor sat his protégé down and gave him these last few bits of advice:

"Always have money in your pocket, but never a $10 or $20 bill. It looks like money your mother gave you. Instead, take a bunch of ones. It looks like you've got lots of dough. Put them in a stack and fold them over. When you take your money out, take the whole wad in one smooth motion and gently peel a dollar bill off the top. It looks cool that way," he said.

"Now, listen up carefully - have breath mints in your pants pocket at all times. Remember to always act cool, no matter what you're doing, because attitude is 98 percent of the game. Keep asking girls to dance. All they can say is 'no.' Sooner or later, you'll get lucky and one will say yes," recited my older son as he adjusted his brother's collar.

"Don't hide out in the boys' gym. Always stay where the action is - on the dance floor. And last but not least, have confidence. It shines through, and girls can spot a coward a mile away. Even if you're not confident, act like you are," he said. And with those words, his younger brother smiled, ready to confidently take on the daunting world of girls.

It dawned on me that my oldest son was, in actuality, dispending life-long advice for people of all ages. Be independent - don't follow the crowd. Be confident and send that message in how you walk, talk and act. Don't be shy - look straight ahead in life and always go after what you want. And last but not least, stay where the action is. You might not be comfortable, but sooner or later, life will grant you an even break.

At the time, I knew I would remember that scene for the rest of my life, and seeing that ticket stub brought that evening right back into focus. At the time, I remember realizing they were both going to be fine if they followed Nick's advice, and they are. Life has given them both breaks, and they're both following their hearts and their dreams.

That ticket stub reminded me that when brothers lend a hand to each other, sometimes moms have to move out of the way so they can proceed to the next phase of life, and that includes allowing them to ask somebody to dance.

Denise Adams is a columnist with The Herald-Coaster, a daily newspaper in Rosenberg, Texas.