The Galahad Complex

I think I have what I’ve decided to call a Galahad Complex.

Before I explain, let me just say that I’ve always wanted to name a complex, just like I’ve always wanted to start a corporate buzzword. I still have hopes for Linear Quadrangulation and I’m still shocked that The Prick Principle from my best-selling business self-help book, “My Boss Is a Moron, Now What?” didn’t catch on. For those of you that are unfamiliar, that one states that the amount of a prick your boss is relates directly to how much his or her boss loves them, ensuring that there’s no hope of getting rid of them short of murder. And, yes, I did say “his or her”…the principle is not sexist. Some of the biggest pricks I’ve ever met in business were women.

Now, where was I? Oh, yeah…

I have a Galahad Complex. When he’s not talking like a 3-year-old or experiencing some other manifestation of Asperger’s Syndrome, there are times where it seems like Marty might have talents that could surpass my own. He’s creative in ways that seem different than most of his peers. In a lot of ways, the fact that his mind seems to function in a different way is a hindrance, but as a writer there are things that I recognize in him that could eventually really be to his advantage. Plus, since the kid talks repeatedly about wanting to start a production company – down to deciding how frequently he plans to treat his employees – it seems like he might want to do some of the same things that I’ve toiled away at.

As a parent, I of course want nothing but the best for my child. I want him to be as successful as he can possibly be. If that means that he surpasses me as a writer or is much more successful than me financially, I’m ok with that. Sort of.

OK, so I’m only mostly ok with it. The thing is that if my sons are going to surpass me in life, I’d kind of like to set the bar a little bit higher. Give them something to actually surpass. Try to head off comments like, “Well, you’ve outdone your hack writer father…congratulations.”

If your, I don’t know, Steven Spielberg, what do you care if your kid does better than you? In order to manage something like that, they’d have to be one of the best ever at their chosen field. If the kid can do that, then more power to them.

However, I’m closer to being the out-of-work father in the trailer park who’s successful kid pays off not to talk to the press.

I’m never going to be Spielberg, but is there still time to be Brian DePalma? Or not even that. I’d settle for Floyd Mutrux (he directed “American Hot Wax” and “Hollywood Knights”…two movies I used to enjoy on HBO when I was a kid).

I’d be perfectly happy just being a one-hit wonder. Being Gerardo or Sir Mix-A-Lot would be ok with me.

Anything that would keep me from sounding a little less pathetic in my offspring’s bio. You know, like when the Olympics are going on and you find out that the father of a gold-medal winner competed in handball in the 1984 games.

I would like to be able to at least be classified as a has-been. That’s something that any son would be proud to go beyond.

Someday maybe I’ll have the good fortune of hearing my boy point out to the local media that his father once wrote an Amazon best-seller. So, please, for the love of God, start buying up all of the unsold copies of “My Boss Is a Moron, Now What?” Turn it into the self-help equivalent of stores causing Guns N’ Roses “Chinese Democracy” to re-chart by selling off copies for $1.00.

Help a brother be mediocre for his kid.