It's a tough to be the parent of a teen today, and Jay McGraw, real-life son of Dr. Phil knows this. Today's rising generation faces temptations and perils their parents never dreamed of, from premature sexualization to mail-order steroids to a schoolyard arms race that reaches younger every day. We want the best for our children, want them to grow up happy, healthy, and safe, but our words echo uncomfortably the same tired old lectures we ignored from our own parents. Anxiety begets frustration, and we end up pushing away those we most desperately want to reach, watching in despair as they drift ever further into a world we can never hope to control.

Responding to the plight and spending power of such parents, self-styled experts crank out untold quantities of advice books, each with its own philosophical flavor and marketing angle. One such would-be guru, Jay McGraw, stakes out his place on the shelf with Closing the Gap: A Strategy for Bringing Parents and Teens Together. At first glance, the author's credentials might appear thin. After all, what does the unmarried, childless son of Dr. Phil know about the challenges facing typical families?

In cameo appearances on his father's syndicated schadenfraude-o-tainment series, McGraw fils dispenses glib advice along simplistic lines, e.g., a discussion of drunk driving statistics is sure to convince any teen of the reasonableness of their parents' curfew policy. Footage of such after-hours mayhem as drag racing, underage drinking, and wanton lust are presented to reinforce the message of restraint, though seeming more likely to entice new recruits to the cause of delinquency. Supplicants, flattered by screen time into agreeing with anything they're told, disappear into the afternoon never to return.

While his tidy Texas accent, impeccable manners, and N*Sync good looks may enhance his appeal to desirable daytime demographics, Jay McGraw's content is highly suspect. Indeed, at first glance much of his book appears either obvious ("You might think that happiness will come with a ten-thousand watt stereo or a Mustang Cobra GT but what you really want is to be noticed, appreciated and--getting down to the real thang--loved."), implausible ("Try this phrase on for size: 'We can agree to disagree on this point.' I'm telling you, it's magic."), or both ("Wouldn't it be better to forgive your parents and reconnect with them so that you can enjoy the long-term benefits of a good relationship?")

But this is too important a business to reject any assistance out of hand--and I have a personal interest in discovering whether McGraw knows what he's talking about.

You see, it's not just curiosity that led me to open this book. As it happens, I have my own teenager to worry about. Born last December, Bobby recently entered his fourteenth week, and our household promptly erupted with all of the excitement, laughter, anger, and tears that go with the teens of today. I've tried to be a good father, but I have to admit that there are times I feel like we're not communicating at all. Far from heeding me, he just sits there sucking his thumb, staring at his feet, filling his diaper to show his disdain. Thus, I've endeavored to put McGraw to the test in the laboratory of my own home. The proof of the parenting is in the pages.

The results may surprise you.

Jay McGraw: Childrearing Charlatan or Parenting Sage?

I began by evaluating McGraw's understanding of the issues. He makes a good show of being with-it, with numerous references to lava lamps, golf, pot smoking, and other obsessions of the older generation, while building rapport with teens through copious use of the word "crap." But the tough questions he poses reveal a deeper appreciation.

"Does he participate in discussions at meals?"

Hardly, unless you consider grunting, cooing, and spitting up to be worthy of the Algonquin Round Table (Dorothy Parker aside). Otherwise, he just lies there in his mother's lap staring out the window while sucking her dry, first one side, then the other. I'd dreamed of engaging my progeny in rousing debates of the issues of the day, but like so many teens, all he cares about is boobs, boobs, boobs. Score one for Jay McGraw.

"Have you ever heard some of the lyrics of the most popular rap songs? Did you know that some are banned from radio?"

As a sworn rock-and-roller, I'll admit that I've taken a cavalier approach to the music Bobby listens to. But Jay highlights the importance of knowing a teen's favorite songs as a way of understanding him better. And, thinking about it, I have to admit he might be on to something. My sleepytime repertoire ranges from "Jimmy Crack Corn" to "Froggy Went a-Courtin'," but what proves most effective in laying the wee eyelids to rest? Merle Haggard's "Mama Tried," The Grateful Dead's "Friend of the Devil" and "Dire Wolf," the Kris Kristofferson interpretation of "Me and Bobby McGee"--one outlaw ballad after another. In spite of my best intentions, I've been sowing sweet dreams of rebellion. Touché, Jay.

But Jay's not just pointing fingers here--he offers welcome reassurance as well, as in his Parent Myth No. 4: "No conflict is resolved until you and your teen see eye to eye."

"This is one of the most deadly relationship myths," he cautions. "Parents who believe it are prone to spontaneous self-combustion." This comes as a relief, notwithstanding the Firex Dual Alert smoke and carbon dioxide detector installed in Bobby's room. It may be some years before we can truly see eye to eye. Sure, he can pretend to stand up like a big boy when I plant his feet on my thighs and support him under the arms, but he wobbles too much for any real eye contact. Otherwise, he remains several feet below my perspective; eye to ankle would be more like it.

Okay, Jay, you've got my attention. Now tell me--what do I do? How can I save this relationship before it's too late?

"Don't set up a false economy," he says. "Make your teens work for what they want. Don't just hand them one thing after another. They'll never understand it when that doesn't happen later in life." This is bold, counter-intuitive reasoning if ever I heard it. As anyone with a fourteen-week-old knows, you'll give the kid just about anything if he'll just stop crying--num-num, fie-fie, bankie, you name it. Aware that perhaps I'd been spoiling him, I resolved to make him earn his way. I've drawn up a chart outlining a strict new system of tasks and rewards and taped it to the ceiling above his crib. He's been understandably reluctant to step off the gravy train, but I expect to achieve full compliance soon.

"Listen to and hear your teen's point of view," McGraw continues. "Give your teen some slack, hear him or her, and then home in on the message that lies behind the heated rhetoric. Very often, that message is a cry for help." Truer words were never spoken. Before reading this book, I'd scrambled to soothe Bobby's distress seemingly at random, never taking the time to listen--really listen. But now the messages came through loud and clear--I Am Wet, I Am Hungry, The Mobile Frightens Me. Although I am currently unable to comply with his requests due to lapses in the aforementioned work-for-it policy, I sleep better at night knowing that he isn't just throwing unwarranted tantrums. Once I have the earplugs in place, that is.

"Share Your Needs," runs one of Jay's Mission Steps. "You have to teach people what you really need." I put this one to work immediately. "Bobby, Daddy's pretty worn out from all this crying," I told him. "Daddy needs a beer." I felt a great sense of relief at this breakthrough, the euphoria swelling as I finished the first beer, then a second. "Hang in there, buddy," I responded to his cries. "Daddy really needs to take a leak."

"Parents, you never know when you will meet the most exciting, intriguing, inspiring person you've ever encountered. That might be the teen in your home right now. What if you discover that your teen's likes and wants and needs are deeply felt, well conceived, and inspiring? You may find the pot of gold: pride in your teen."

Jay, it's already happened. Bless you, and your uncanny parenting clairvoyance.