If you cry then I'll cry. . .

I was watching one of my favorite shows today, American Chopper, and as usual the episode was a brilliant cross section of what is awesome and aweful about America. If you are unfamiliar with the show, let me fill you in. A father and son work together to build crazy themed "choppers" (custom motorcycles that have a longer than normal rake) and get into fights and generally cause havok. While all this is happening the fat and lazy younger brother Mikey tries to bring hilarity and mirth to all to ease the tension of the two anger factories, Paul Sr. and Paul Jr.

In recent episodes the two Pauls have been getting along much better and generally having a good time working on bikes, such as the "My Name is Earl" bike for the NBC show of the same name and the University of Michigan Wolverines bike for a children's hospital charity.

The show has grown in budget and sucess as the bike builders have grown in sucess, built and destroyed shops, built bigger, better bikes, and blown up and/or destroyed as much as possible. It even seemed the two of them had been getting along better and set aside thier father-son infighting.

This episode took a step back to earlier days. Paul Sr. and Jr. had probably one of their worst fights in show history (trust me I have seen every episode) and I was both entertained and worried. It seemed as though it would leed to father-son fist-e-cuffs.

I think much of my curiosity in the show comes from the relationship I have with my father, and the similarities that our relationship has to the relationship of the Tutles. It worries me that my father and I have had so many explosive fights, and maybe this show has given me refuge, somewhere to go where I can comiserate and maybe have a laugh at something that isn't so far from home (pun intended).

In this particular episode the two Pauls fight wasn't about the shop or who has better ideas in bike building it is about the universal theme that boys grow into men and must "fight" for respect from thier fathers. Do all men go through this? I doubt it. But when you pair two strong minded and creative individuals together, they can butt heads.

At the end of the fight the two predominantly stoic men embrassed each other crying and told each other they were sorry. I have to admit, I shed a tear. Not because of these two men fighting, but for the times my father and I have not been as able to forgive each other.

And now, having moved back into my parents basement I find myself caught in that struggle again, but now with a stronger idea of who and am and a greater sense of independence. I no longer feel the need to justify my life to my father. I no longer feel like a faliure at life. I no longer feel I need to prove anything. If it hasn't already been proved it never will be.