Sweet 16 and Never Heard No

Looks as if sweet 16 ain't so sweet anymore.

Today's teens, we're told, want something more than cake and candles to mark that year of life most notable for arriving after 15 and before 17 -- and way before they actually are ready to own a driver's license.

Oh, there I go again, rehashing those pesky teen crash statistics. If I were a with-it kind of mom, I'd say to hell with being a role model for responsibility. Go take out a second mortgage and throw a sweet 16 gala to trump a Trump. We're talking giant tents with parquet dance floors, ice cream flown in from Colorado and gifts of shiny new moveable objects that go vroom-vroom-vroom on the highway.

C'mon. That's what other parents are doing.

The Hartford Courant's MaryEllen Fillo recently wrote about this trend, which apparently started with MTV's "My Super Sweet 16" show, now in its fifth season. It's tempting to lay the blame squarely at MTV's loins, but that wouldn't begin to explain the episodes full of parents with spines of cotton swab.

Savannah, for example, had an "endless budget" to shop for live animals to populate her safari-themed party and declared herself a "born-again Beemer girl." In fairness, there was some tension between mother and daughter on this whole car thing. Savannah wanted a Mustang, but her mother thought she'd look better in a BMW. We've all been there, haven't we? A little browsing, though, and Savannah decided she had to have a Beemer. Go, Mom!

Cars and parental discord are big on "Sweet 16." Ava's parents, for example, really put their foot down after she sneaked off to Santa Barbara, Calif. No car for you, they said, for, like, a whole day or something. Then they got her a Range Rover.

The enterprising Audrey went car shopping with her mother before she turned 16, and wrinkled her nose at car after car until she finally settled for a $67,000 Lexus. So glad she's learned the art of compromise.

That Lexus, by the way, was way more money than fellow sweet sixteener Mailia paid for the dress designed just for her by Mychael Knight.

It cost only $7,000. Practically a blue-light special in this teenage wasteland.

And now a word about Marissa.

Here's the synopsis: Mom said there would be no popular band at her party. Lots of tears. But wait. Turned out Dad had a surprise. Singer Frankie J showed up after all. Omigod. And she got a red sports car to drive on weekends. Whew.

So now parents in Connecticut and across the country are throwing copycat parties for their own 16-year-olds.

"I'm not sure this party is so much about celebrating her birthday but about her being 'in,'" one mother told Fillo. "You do what you do for your kids, even if it means biting your tongue and spending the money." In her case, the bill was $12,000.

These stories about kids gone wild and parents gone missing give me joint pain, they make me feel so old. One of my proudest moments as the parent of a teenager was when my daughter complained that most of her friends were afraid of me. That was exactly where I wanted them. I didn't need any teenage friends, thank you, and they didn't need a parent who acted like one.

Fillo assured me I'm not alone. She said the theme of her reader response ran like this: "Who are the spoiled brats here? The children or the parents?"

I realize we're never going to have a reality show about teenagers banding together to build solar panels or raise money for the neighborhood wind turbine. But most teenagers are better than the very worst of the very rich, and most teenagers know that.

As it turns out, so does MTV.

The network just released a survey with the Associated Press that showed the majority of teens find their greatest joy in hanging out with their families.

And get this: Three-quarters of the young people polled said their relationship with their parents -- that'd be good ol' Mom and Dad -- made them happy.

Sounds like a trend.

Connie Schultz is a Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist for The Plain Dealer and the author of two books from Random House: "Life Happens" and "… and His Lovely Wife." To find out more about Connie Schultz (cschultz@plaind.com) and read her past columns, please visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.

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