I think I got my first look at reality the night I sat down to help Bud with his ninth-grade algebra. I can still see it: skinny trusting kid, wise patient dad, Mom finishing up the supper dishes. Norman Rockwell sketching in the doorway. “Just takes disciplined thinking, Bud,” I think I said. “Just have to figure out what it is they’re looking for.” Cool, lofty, confident. How much can story problems change over the years? “Thanks, Dad. Look at number seven.”     

Sometimes reality is like slamming your best thumb in a car door.

Half of all baseball fans in a survey are also soccer fans. Half of all football fans in this survey are also baseball fans. No football fan is a soccer fan. There are 78 soccer fans and 34 football fans in this survey. How many baseball fans are neither soccer fans nor football fans?

Whuh. I think the first thing I did was laugh; you know, the seal-bark, “What is this kind of laugh.” Then I blinked. Cleaned my glasses. Anything to clear my head. “They’re lookin’ for baseball fans, Dad.” Right, I got that part. “You wanna try number three instead? Three’s a little easier.”

Well, that was my first look at Bud’s world, his life, how hard he maybe has it. And anybody out there losing sleep over how to teach their teenage kid must not have stepped out of the house lately because they’ve got it all backwards: The problem isn’t how to teach teens anymore, the question is whether parents are able to learn from them. Here’s a good rule of thumb: anybody who had trouble mastering their smart phone probably shouldn’t talk down to a kid who had keyboarding since kindergarten.

It turns out Bud already knows more about electronic devices, ninga, and Ninga Turtles than I ever knew. He lives in a whole new world. And it seems the best I can do is wish him luck, because when he jumps on that school bus every morning, he’s out there on his own. It might not be three miles of deep snow to school anymore, but it’s plenty tough enough.

Oh sure, I still know how to use a slide rule and long division, but what I know is absolutely useless in Bud’s world. Or what’s worse, it’s wrong. Like, “Girls don’t call up guys, Bud.” They probably just didn’t call me.

And, sure, I tell myself I wouldn’t want to live in his world even if I could, but the truth is, I couldn’t live there. And there’s a difference for you.

Well, I’ve pretty much learned to keep my mouth shut. “Cool” and “lofty” aren’t things I work at much anymore. And I find myself saying, “Of course I could be wrong.” But I sure don’t spend time thinking about how much harder it was in the good old days.

Oh, by the way, the answer is 61 baseball fans. Or is it 31? Or 16? Whatever.

“Half of All Baseball Fans” previously appeared in “Home Life Magazine” (October,1991).

Wil Denson is a Professor Emeritus at the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire. Denson taught at the university level for more than 33 years. He headed the UWEC theatre program for five years and was Director of UWEC Summer Theatre for 25 seasons. He has written over 25 plays – eight of which have been published and 19 produced throughout the U.S. Wil lives in Eau Claire with wife-and-best-friend Judy.