Seven reasons why Kevin McAllister is my role model

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Behold the vengeance in Kevin’s face. As we will see, Kevin does not let Buzz go unpunished for eating all the cheese pizza.

It should go without saying that anyone who grew up in the 90’s wanted to be Kevin McAllister, hero of the only two Home Alone movies that count. Who doesn’t want to sled down the stairs on a tobaggan or zipline into a tree house? For me, it goes way beyond the desire to have a huge house all to myself and the awesome trap-making skills to defend it. After over two decades of watching Home Alone 1 at Christmastime, the ways of Kevin have had an indelible effect on my psyche, in ways that I’m only now starting to realize.

Kevin taught me how to best utilize my time when I have the house to myself.

If I’m home alone, it’s almost guaranteed that there will be ice cream, cookies, and TV. Normally, I’m not even a couch potato.

Kevin makes a mean diagram.

I’m a great lover of diagrams, but even on a computer, I can’t make as good a diagram as Kevin does.

Kevin is the Sun Tzu/ Grand Admiral Thrawn of the elementary school set.

He was able to manipulate Harry and Marv’s attempted entries into the house, somehow knowing that after Marv tried the basement and lost his shoes and socks, he would then try the window and step on stabby-crunchy glass ornaments. Of course the traps are impressive, but the subtle psychological manipulation is even more so.

Kevin is self-educated.

I didn’t know how to do laundry until I was 16. But when Kevin is left home at the age of 8, he quickly masters the skill, even conquering his fear of the furnace to do so. Between Home Alone 1 and Home Alone 2, it’s obvious that Kevin upgraded his skills at making elaborate, painful traps. He goes from Micro Machines and glue ‘n’ feather traps, to setting up an arc welder to electrocute a sink. Who taught him how to do that? School? Please.  And there’s no way his parents taught him how to do that stuff. Especially not his dad, who is the only member of his immediate family that isn’t a jerk to him the night before they leave him home alone.

Kevin is a master of fire.

C’mon. When I was eight, I couldn’t even light a match. Still can’t, actually, unless it’s the light-on-box kind. Fireworks are the least of it. This is a kid who makes a blow torch trap and a fire-lightbulb trap, while strategically deploying volatile chemicals.

Kevin knows how to improvise.

Despite his extensive plans, Kevin never sticks to them rigidly. He grabs Buzz’s tarantula and throws it at the bad guys when he needs to get away. Earlier in the movie, he escapes Harry and Marv by hiding in a nativity scene.

Kevin is a fair arbiter of justice.

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Always clean up your traps before you put out milk and cookies for Santa.

After the bad guys are carted off in a cop car, Kevin cleans the entire house. The tree is decorated, the laundry is clean, and there’s fresh milk in the fridge. When the family arrives home, the only signs that anything happened are a single gold tooth on the floor, and Buzz’s entire room. I suspect that Kevin is capable of rebuilding Buzz’s shelf, if he wanted to. But he doesn’t, and that’s because Buzz is an asshole.

Pieces of Summer Apparel that We should Burn

As long as it’s not too hot out for fire, that is.

Summer clothing involves a high degree of discomfort. Blame the heat, and blame water sports. Here are some clothing items that I recommend throwing on your next backyard bonfire.

Everything pastel

Science says that lighter colors are supposed to be cooler than darker ones in the heat, but I’ve never noticed an appreciable difference. Maybe this is why pastels are more prevalent in the summer, or maybe it’s some kind of preppy fashion thing that escaped from the country club and hasn’t been picked up by animal control yet. Pastels are watered down versions of real colors. They are the clothing equivalent of coffee with skim milk in it.

Shorts

If they don’t bunch up when walking, then they’re usually too short and involve more pressure to leg-shave. Or (for women’s shorts, anyway) they’re a more practical length but look like I’m supposed to be wearing them to a business meeting or postal route.

Flip flops

Flip flops used to be a mainstay for me. In high school, I would wear them to school with colorful toe socks. It was my thing. Now I can’t stand the way you have to crunch up your toes to keep them in place when walking fast. Forget running in them. And then there’s the irritating slap slap noise.

It should be obvious from this that I also advocate burning high-heeled sandals. I don’t own any, but I bet those ones made of corkboards burn real nice.

Women’s bathing suits

For any activity or event in my life, I wear functional, slightly shabbier than appropriate clothing. For water sports, I wear functional, appropriate…underwear? Um, what? Enough already. Last year I switched to wearing running shorts and bathing suit tanks for all my lake-going needs. Even practical bathing suits feel too much like pin-up wear, and those skimpy bikinis that are impossible to function in (I mean, as some kind of human being that engages in movement and isn’t interested in constant adjusting) can go on the fire first. Small things make the best kindling.

Unisex life jackets

Has anyone ever made a life jacket that takes cup size into account? I’m guessing this could exist, but despite frequent kayaking, life jackets aren’t really an expertise of mine. A quick search doesn’t reveal anything promising. If someone hits my kayak with their jet-ski*, and I’m thrown off and rendered unconscious, I’d rather not drown when my life jacket rides up over my head because I had to take a size larger to fit my boobs.

Plaid dress, froofy goth dress.

Are these sundresses? More importantly, do they contain flame-retardant chemicals?

Sundresses

What makes a dress a sundress versus just some kind of a normal dress? On one end, I’m reasonably certain that some kind of gothy, long-sleeved Elvira type thing is *not* a sundress. On the other end, I think something yellow and billowing with thin straps and actual depictions of the sun would qualify as sundress material. Material—see what I did there? So that leaves every other type of dress in the world as a potential sundress. I might not have much of an idea what a sundress is, but since the items I have previously listed don’t seem like they’d create a conflagration as big as the one I’m imagining, sundresses should also be burned.

Time for s’mores!


 

*Even though nine year-old kids are no longer allowed to drive jet-skis, I still assume that if I’m ever in an accident out on the lake, it will be a jet-ski’s fault. That’s probably not fair, because the most obviously drunk people I’ve ever seen on the lake were in a crappy rowboat with an outboard motor.