Potty Party

By Danny McBride
Los Angeles, March 7, 2009


Like everyone who has ever spawned, sooner or later the progeny will evolve and mature and have progeny of their own. Your grandchildren. Then you will have no excuse to avoid that “special party” at Chuck E Cheese’s. Flashing lights - - loud music- -and some guy in a rat suit. The very best in rodent entertainment. Fortunately they serve beer. Beer? At a kids’ arcade? Hmmm…What focus group thought this up?

Most ice cream, pizza parlors and burger joints have kid’s party packages complete with clowns or huggie bears. We have one near us with a giant robin and another with a huge octopus. As Gramps you get to see them all. You’re retired, or so the people who control your career think, and so have no good reason why you can’t go to little Holy Terror of Satan’s birthday party, or graduation from pre-school party, or, as we- - (Grandma and I) just did, a “Potty Party” celebrating the fact that your little darling one has finally learned not to pee his pants. I ask you- -did they ever have such a party for you when you finally learned to go “diaper free”? I didn’t think so. Me either.

So just as one learns to control one’s bladder and the timing of relieving one’s self, they bring you to a place that serves beer. Am I the only one that sees the irony in this? Beer. Now it’s Grampa who has trouble controlling his bladder and is challenged with the one beverage that contributes to the timing of his bio-rhythms. It’s just plain evil.

Of course a certain amount of alcohol is necessary to persevere in an environment of screaming sugared-up micro-boppers and to say “Sure, why not?” to one more $35 plain cheese pizza which is about the same quality as frozen pizza- -unthawed. Beer. Soon it will be Grampa’s turn to return to the diaper. Shall we also have a party then? Will they serve beer? Probably not. Probably prune juice.

But the very idea of sedating the adults while over-amping the children works so well as family entertainment that regardless of the economic times, these places are booming.

“Grampa, can I have another ten bucks for tokens?” Why not? They have to be introduced to slot machines and gambling sooner or later and what better time to do it than surrounded by friends and family in the cozy setting of a cacophonous arcade.

What a deprived childhood we had. No video games- -we went to the park. No flashing lights- -we climbed trees. No tokens- -we played tiddlywinks. And most conspicuously- -no beer. Except for Uncle Willie. I think he must have had a little bottle of something with him at all times. After all- -he was retired.