My daughter's been in kindergarten for two weeks now, and early this week we attended our first Back-to-School night. 

It literally seems like just a few weeks ago that I was attending this kind of event on the kid-end of things.  I always felt like my parents were horning in on my territory. 

Anyway, Kate's school is a great place.  The grounds are nicely maintained but not prep-school precious.  The central building is an enormous, craftsman-style house.  It's the summer camp you wish you'd had when you were young, and your blood pressure drops twelve points the moment you walk in. 

I pick Kate up in the afternoon, after a morning of driving in and out of LA to train clients and I want to stay.  The urge to frolick is almost overwhelming.

After an initial meeting of all the parents and most of the teachers, we broke up into our individual classrooms.  The parents circled around, contentedly jammed into the kids' chairs, drinking juice and eating healthy snacks while Kate's teacher walked us through the evening's agenda from his large wicker rocking chair. 

"We have exciting news," he said at one point.  We are building a high school that will be up and running by the time this kindergarten class is of age to go."

An image of my wife, me and our younger son dressing in rags and living out of a cardboard box so that Kate could attend the school for the next twelve years flashed across my mind. 

But the discussion turned:  what did we envision for the school? he asked.  What would be the ideal high school education for our kids? 

Hard to imagine my five-year-old in second grade at this point, much less high school.  Still, it was an interesting question to ponder.

Most striking about the discussion that followed was how much it centered on the importance of physical education.  One woman mentioned including some kind of nutritional education; the teacher himself said his sons--who would also be attending the school a few years down the line--wouldn't even consider going unless the school had a sports program.  Another mom mentioned centering on "mind-body integration."

This struck me as interesting:  these parents had all had P.E. themselves, for the most part--it's only in recent years that these programs have been eliminated.  And I've heard a lot of P.E. class horror stories from men and women their age--tales of being humiliated, rejected, bullied.  Yet a good physical education for their kids seemed a primary concern for these parents.

Childhood obesity is epidemic, of course, so the parents may have had concern about their kids' health.  And many unfit parents would probably just as soon fob off kid-walking duty on the schools. 

But these didn't seem to explain the concerns of these fit, thoughtful parents.  Rather, they seemed to understand that physicality is a significant element in their kids' growth:  that to a point, a fitter kid is a happier kid, and maybe a smarter, more attentive, more creative kid as well.

Perhaps, if we're lucky, my generation will represent the fattest and least fit demographic to roll down the pike, and, with their sputtering, wheezing, rotund parents as cautionary tales, my daughter and her friends will simply acquire the taste for movement early on and never lose it.

I never said a word in the conference; it was just a preliminary conversation, after all, and besides, the other parents seemed to cover my initial concerns.  I was almost tempted to take the opposite stance just to liven things up ("Look, girls' soccer is all well and good, but what about Ancient Greek?").

The evening adjourned.  The kindergarten teacher said he was tired:  he doubled as the 7th and 8th grade boys' P.E. teacher, and was sore from class today:  he'd led his charges through 100 push-ups and 200 sit-ups that afternoon.

I could take issue with the choice of exercises, but those are some pretty impressive numbers. 

It's a start. 

Have a great weekend--A