Executive Times
		2006 Book Reviews
		Why Do I Love These People? by Po Bronson
Rating:			***
		(Recommended)
		Click on title or picture to buy from amazon.com
	Family Readers will be cheered and depressed after reading the stories of the 20 families Po Bronson selects in his new book, Why Do I Love These People? After interviewing about 700 people, Bronson settled on 19 families and his own to describe the struggles, challenges and joys of life in relationship. Everything you’d expect about modern American family life appears on these pages: unconditional love, abuse, infidelity, divorce and illness. Bronson knows how to tell a story, and each chapter will engage readers in the story of a family. Here’s an excerpt, from the chapter titled, “Bumpkin,” pp. 70-77: The day Gabe stepped onto that bus to Florida was also the last day Doug had any faith in the Southern Baptist doctrine. He’d been pulling away from his church for years, partly because he was increasingly uncomfortable evangelizing, pushing his views on others. He no longer believed that the Bible was the one and only Word of God; he believed it was one of many very intelligent interpretations of how we transform ourselves into good people. Doug has always been a searcher for meaning, and since his mid-teens he has tried to reconcile religious doctrine with what he feels in his heart. When Gabe left, Doug did not blame the Lord. In fact, he did the opposite. He did not see God’s hand in Gabe’s departure—he saw his own hands. He felt personally responsible. His own actions had led to this. His own choices. According to his religion, as long as Doug kept his faith, he was saved—he was in a state of grace. His life had been redeemed by Jesus, two millennia ago, through sacrifice on the cross. But when Gabe left, that notion was unacceptable. It was absurd to consider himself saved, incongruous to consider himself redeemed. It was time to redeem his own life—and nobody, not even Jesus, was going to do it for him. The only way to return to a state of grace was to ensure that his son turned out all right. Doug could no longer trust his son to God, or trust his son to the poor example of other men, or trust that his kid would be all right because he carried Doug’s genes. He was not going to leave something this important up to fate. Doug had let circumstance play too great a role in his own life and that of his son. He had let guilt and shame come between him and his purpose. Doug took a new vow, this one to himself: Whatever it takes. The future would be decided by his actions today. Doug took the Florida bar and hunted for attorney positions closer to his son. He called Gabe frequently, which was excruciating because Gabe’s situation was spinning out of control in a hurry. While he’d been away, Wendy and her husband had split up. To save money, she shared the rent on a place with another soldier in her husband’s unit. They ended up involved. He liked to drink more than a little too much. He had kids, too; spouses and ex-spouses were forever fighting in the house. Gabe’s sixteen-year-old sister had gotten pregnant. There were eleven people in the house, and Gabe’s mom and sister were caught up in their own problems. Nobody made Gabe go to school. Nobody kept him from trying drugs. “I realized I needed to get out of there,” Gabe said. “Doug had kept the door open, always assuring me that if I wanted to come back, I could. I realized that Doug was a decent guy. To hear that he was trying to move down to be near me—that he wasn’t giving up—that kind of effort on my behalf was something I hadn’t had, and it was something I needed. I called him and told him I wanted to move back. That was the first step to actually having a father.” Gabe moved back into Doug’s mom’s house in Missouri. They didn’t know if they’d end up there or in Florida. Doug’s mom quarreled with both of them. She wouldn’t tolerate Gabe’s mouthiness, and she was driven to anger seeing her son turn his back on their church. Doug popped down to Florida for a week to scour for a job, and when he returned Gabe was gone. Mom wasn’t talking. Doug found him at a relative of Wendy’s. “I could see my mom’s side,” Doug said. “Gabe was a kid few would love, at a time in a boy’s life when it’s hard to find a lot there to love. My mom has a short fuse. He pissed her off.” His mother laid down her terms: Doug was welcome back but not Gabe. She wanted him out of the house. Doug was livid. (Their relationship has never quite recovered.) Doug went to Gabe and told his son, “We’ll go live in a hole in the ground if we have to, but we’re staying together. I have traveled too long a road to get you back, and nothing and no one is ever coming between us again. Whatever it takes. If that’s what you want. We are a team.” Gabe did not hesitate. No man had ever said anything like that to him. “Yeah, that’s what I want.” Despite having only unemployment for income, Doug found an apartment and the two moved in together. Gabe had his own bedroom. A month later Doug finally found work, there in Missouri. They bought a black leather couch. “That did it for me,” Gabe said. “That triggered the bond. It convinced me to stick with this guy. He’d proven he really cared, proven he was serious. He was willing to fight for me. It meant a lot.” Doug struggled to steer Gabe onto a good path. Treating him as a peer had already failed. Yet Doug had only started to earn Gabe’s respect, and Doug did not feel entitled to be an authoritarian. It was a thin line to walk. He had to show consideration for Gabe’s boundaries, too. So this time, there were no absolute rules. Doug tried to lead by example. He drank very rarely, and only in moderation, because Gabe had seen a lot of irresponsible drinking. When Gabe brought home D’s and F’s on his first report card, Doug made it clear that he wasn’t mad and he understood that in Florida nobody had even made Gabe go to class, which hadn’t been permissiveness but neglect. Ensuring Gabe did his homework was a way of caring and looking out for his son, not being a hard-ass on a power trip. Gabe seemed to get this idea, didn’t rebel, and responded quickly. Even though Doug was parenting by feel, on the fly, he believed that communicating carefully—making those little distinctions—made a significant difference when added up over time. Gabe slowly found common ground with the new man in his life. One day they went to a car show. Doug suddenly saw his own stepfather at a distance, and pointed him out to Gabe. “You’ve got a stepfather, too?” Gabe asked. “I haven’t seen him since I was fourteen,” Doug answered. “Should we go talk to him?” Gabe offered. Doug returned, “No, he was kind of a bastard.” Doug’s mom had married the guy when Doug was twelve. He was a drunk, and when drunk he would challenge Doug to fight. Doug never took the bait. Gabe realized he and Doug had very similar experiences of being fourteen years old. Gabe also came to understand why his father had never married. Doug offered a variety of answers, but they always ended up with this logic: “I was afraid to get close. I didn’t want anyone to take your place. I was always afraid if someone else entered my life, I would lose you forever.” They only had one big fight. Gabe was sixteen. He had gone somewhere without telling Doug, and did so in a way that flouted the only principle Doug had—that they let each other know where they were. Doug went out hunting for him in his car. Eventually he found Gabe at a friend’s and dragged him home. As they came into the kitchen, Doug explained why it was important to call, how they needed to work together. Gabe continued being a butt and a smart-ass, resentful of being yanked away from his friend’s. Doug lost his patience. He grabbed Gabe’s shirt, held him against the counter, and told him to respect whose house they were in. Gabe pushed back and the shouting match took off. Within a few exchanges, Gabe became enraged, and finally his real accusation came out, something he’d needed to say for so long: “Where were you all those years! Why were you not paying child support?” “What?!” “You heard me!” “You’ll have to talk to your stepfather about that! I was paying support. I was around. And not because some court ordered me to do it. I did it because it was the right thing. Then I was told to leave. Your stepfather wouldn’t let me be in your life.” “That’s not what I heard! I heard you didn’t want me!” “Is that what he told you? I know your mom didn’t say that to you! She knows I was always a good man.” “I was never in your plans!” “You were a surprise, but not a mistake! Your mom and I loved each other!” “Then where were you?! Where were you?” Gabe stomped upstairs. Doug fell on the couch and cried. Thirty minutes later, Gabe came back down and stood half defiantly at the bottom of the stairs—a peace offering. Doug immediately apologized. “I just want to be a good father, Gabe. I’m trying to be a good dad. I’m sorry if I’m doing a lousy job. Please, help me figure this out.” “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t know the facts.” “No, you’ve had a right to ask and you never have. I know I’ve hurt you by not being there. I can’t change it and will never pretend I have. I’ll always be making up for lost time. You not being in my life was entirely my responsibility.” Doug did not date while Gabe was in high school. He saw nothing inherently wrong with doing so, but he wanted to ensure that Gabe had a stable environment after so long without one. He wanted Gabe to know that he was all that mattered. They worked out together at the gym, and played tennis and basketball. Doug became a great listener. Gabe learned to talk to Doug about anything. He discovered that Doug was unlike other men—nothing Gabe did or said ever made Doug fly off the handle. One time Doug came home early from a trial in Fayetteville and found Gabe hosting a party. Doug took one look and said, “Oh. All right. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Everyone slapped Gabe on the back. His dad was cool! The party never got out of hand. Another time—later, when Gabe was eighteen—he got drunk and drove home, stupidly, whereupon he was slapped with a ticket for reckless driving. When he reached home he waited in his truck outside for an hour and a half, trying to sober up. Finally he dragged himself up the stairs to face Doug. Doug just put him in bed and advised that some community service would be a good way to deal with the ticket. Doug understood that people make mistakes, and he trusted that his son was developing good judgment and using it most of the time. He needed to learn for himself what crossing that line felt like, and how the anxiety of being over the line wasn’t worth it. A few weeks later Doug was noodling on his guitar in bed when he heard Gabe come in with friends. Doug plodded downstairs and found two girls with his son. Doug made enough small talk to be polite, then gave them their space and headed back to his room. Later, Gabe came up. “What’d you think, Doug?” “Of what?” “Of Jen.” “She seemed nice. I barely talked to her.” “No, man! Did you see her legs?” The eighteen-year-old was in love. Doug knew what that was about. He also knew how hard it is to turn young love into a stable adult relationship. He and Gabe talked at every turn—how not to be threatened, how to give each other room, how to tell the truth, how not to expect her to be the same as you in every way, how to take a break when you’re about to say something you don’t mean. Gabe married Jen six years later, and they’ve been together nine years now. They own a fairly big new home on a cul-de-sac. She works for a regional bank, and he drives a delivery truck for Anheuser-Busch, which is a better living than you’d suspect. They are in no rush to have kids. For his part, Doug has worked as an attorney doing Social Security law and family law, and he’s taught at Crowder College, and he’s written grants for the United Way. He still lives in that same apartment he moved into with Gabe. He is still single, still careful. He is reading Taoist texts, from which one line resonates most: “The Tao guides without interfering.” Doug and Gabe have a strong relationship today. They talk all the time; they’re best friends, kindred spirits. “He’s the best man I know,” Doug said. “A man of quality and character. A better man than I was at his age, a much better man.” Gabe returned, “He has never judged me. He has encouraged me in everything I did. He has never forced preconceived notions on me of what a son should be like. He is happy for me to be my own original self. He mostlyjust listens. So the few times he does have something to say, it always means something, and it’s always an influence on my decisions.” When pressed for how he did this, how he created such a bond with his son, Doug thought about it awhile and said, ‘All I did was provide a stable environment and a constant presence. The rest I let him figure out.” Both Doug and Gabe are observers. Neither is the first in a crowd to offer an opinion or make a statement just to hear his own voice. Their lives are quiet, and contentedly so; the chaos in their past barely echoes anymore. Gabe is developing into an articulate person, but Doug is truly there. He’s not eloquent in an oratorial sense, but rather, he chooses his words carefully to pin down exactly what he feels. Being a father by feel taught him this. The word fortunate comes up a lot. It’s a privilege to have this relationship with his son, a kid he basically walked away from—it’s beyond anything he could ever ask for. He considers himself a very lucky man. He’s grateful to Gabe. He’s grateful to Wendy, who encouraged Gabe to have a relationship with him, and who has never lacked forgiveness for what happened when they were eighteen. Not bad for a couple of bumpkins. Redemption had come. Doug reflected, “Most sons work so hard to earn their father’s respect. I worked so hard for six years to earn my son’s respect. When I finally had that—when I was worthy of his admiration, when I’d redeemed myself in his eyes—my whole life collapsed into a moment. It broke my heart. I did it. I managed to be someone he respects. That’s all I need.” The week before I visited, Wendy moved back to town and, needing a bed, she took Gabe’s old room until she could get settled in her own place. That morning, she was gone before Doug awoke. A couple of hours later she walked back in wearing her new Wal-Mart uniform. It was her first day on the job, but nobody had been there to train her. “She looked as good as ever,” Doug could not help saying. “She looked great.” Gabe paused and chuckled softly. He knew what Doug was really saying. “Doug, I figured out you were a one-woman man a long time ago.” While reading Why Do I Love These People? many readers will think of the opening line of Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina: “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” For parts of these twenty stories, we see an unhappiness that can become overwhelming. We also see the power of love. For many readers, Why Do I Love These People? Will be affirming and encouraging. Steve Hopkins, February 23, 2006
Buy Why Do I Love These People? @ amazon.com				Go To Hopkins & Company Homepage
Go to 2006 Book Shelf				Go to Executive Times Archives
	2006 Hopkins and Company, LLC The recommendation rating for this book appeared in the March 2006 issue of Executive Times URL for this review: http://www.hopkinsandcompany.com/Books/Why Do I Love These People.htm For Reprint Permission, Contact: Hopkins & Company, LLC • 723 North Kenilworth Avenue • Oak Park, IL 60302 Phone: 708-466-4650 • Fax: 708-386-8687 E-mail: books@hopkinsandcompany.com www.hopkinsandcompany.com