Inviting Arnold to Dinner

Last Halloween we joined several other families so our children could go Trick-or-Treating together. The hosts first served a kid-friendly dinner to the eager, costumed kids. The plan was to allow the adults to eat a more leisurely meal in two shifts, taking turns shepherding the kids through the neighborhood. The women decided to take the children for the first shift, leaving the men behind to eat, talk, smoke cigars (not), sip Scotch (just kidding), and watch football.

I have no recollection of which teams played that night. What I do recall is how stimulating I found the conversation among the men. For once the discussion was not repeatedly interrupted by children and I was able to enjoy the conversation of intelligent, well educated men from a variety of professions (surgeon, venture capitalist, entrepreneur, etc.). I found myself stimulated by the conversation and the intelligence with which various points of view were expressed and different complex topics explained.

It reminded me not only of the best moments of college (well, you know what I mean), but also of a goal I've occasionally articulated about raising children. Essentially, it's my dream to raise my sons in an intellectually stimulating environment where they are surrounded by successful adults from many disciplines. I have this image of them sitting at the dinner table across from astronauts, politicians, pro ballplayers, architects, CEO's, teachers, ministers, musicians, travelers, writers, journalists, directors, doctors, investors, entrepreneurs, volunteers, and even attorneys. (I know: I need a much bigger table.)

And you know what? It occurs to me that I am capable of providing them that environment since we know someone from nearly all of those occupations. So why not bring the talk show into the dining room and play the Bill Moyers role to a range of interesting and enjoyable dinner guests? It'll be like dinner at Barbara Walters' or Walter Cronkite's house...except for the chicken nuggets and paper napkins.

Even when the boys become teenagers and want nothing more than to escape the house and race off with their friends, how preferable is it to envision the scene they are racing from being one so enriching, rather than one of perpetual domestic drudgery and embittered family disputes? Besides, as the conversation the other night reminded me, I myself am starved for intellectual discourse and debate with adults who have something intelligent to say and the ability to express it well.

For several days following that Halloween dinner, I contemplated the part of the discussion when several men spoke of which journals, magazines, and periodicals they read regularly. One dad lamented that he no longer had time to read anything but the most technical journals in his field and missed reading Science, Discover, and Natural History. Thinking about that, it occurred to me that I also don't have time to scan Scientific American, Wired, Popular Science and others every month. I know from experience that such subscriptions will just result in a pile of unread magazines and wasted money.

But that's when I had my epiphany: Why not let someone else do the work of reading dozens of periodicals and culling only the best articles for my edification? I'd still miss a lot of fascinating and important articles, but I'd be reading far more technical and educational material than I am now. So I sauntered over to the bookstore, and although I wanted to buy every essay anthology on display, I limited myself to two from The Best American Series®.

I purchased The Best American Science and Nature Writing 2004 and The Best American Essays 2004. They make terrific bedside reading. It was there that I found both Peggy Orenstein's article on baby names and Susan Orlean's terrific essay on the 2003 World Taxidermy Championships. I also read interesting articles on neuroethics, high school pranks, multiverses, and The Matrix.

I'm one step closer to my goal of creating a stimulating and intellectual (and arguably eccentric) environment for me and my family.

Now I just need to invite a few poets, astronauts, and governors to dinner.