My son is turning into a little Steven Spielberg.
It all started when I bought a little flipcam on sale. Silly me. I thought I'd learn to make videos - maybe create some book trailers, you know, learn a few new tricks.
Instead, my son was instantly mesmerized. "Cooool," he said, holding it in his hot little hands. "Is this a video camera? Can I make videos? Like on YouTube?"
I was a little nonplussed. "Um, I guess," I said. "But it's mine," I added hurriedly, as he took it into his room. He nodded absently.
I think that was the last quality time I spent with my little camera.
Oh, sure - I've seen glimpses, usually when the boy is filming. His videos are primarily short stories involving the adventures of his Mario plushies, although sometimes our dog gets a cameo role. After he films them, he splices the scenes, courtesy of Windows Moviemaker, which his teen-age sister taught him to use.
Then he sets it up in high-def and uploads it to YouTube.
He's 9. When I was 9, I think I had a really cool Malibu Barbie set and thought I was All That.
He's not alone, of course. His friends make their own videos, too - post them, laugh about them, trade messages. They get together over the weekends sometimes and make more.
My son's videos are short, shaky. I'm afraid he'll get criticized online; people can be rude sometimes.
I told him that; he just shrugged.
"You just keep making movies," he told me. "You keep getting better."
So I wonder ... is that what Spielberg said?