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Friday, June 24, 2011

Yet Another Double Standard

Imagine a scene such as this…

A daytime talk show with 4 male co-hosts, average age of about 45, sitting before a live studio audience. The audience is 95% men with an average age of maybe 55. The audience is excited, clapping, laughing and squirming in their seats with near-teenage giddy anticipation. Clearly, something exciting is happening here at Generic Television Studios USA, but what could it be? On stage the co-hosts are as tickled as the audience regarding the impending show featuring one awesome guest.

To the roar of clapping, wolf whistles and general shrieking the much-anticipated guest of the day makes her entrance. It is young Miley Cyrus and the middle aged men in the audience and on the stage are going positively crazy with excitement. Some in the audience hold crudely made signs saying “Seniors for Cyrus” and “Work it Girl” and “Marry Me” while others simply wave their hairy arms trying to capture the attention of this teen sensation. The audience is squirming, wiggling in their seats, and droplets of hormonal fueled perspiration are forming around their hairline. Soon the shrieking intensifies…”We love you Miley!” and “Oh, you are sooo cute!” and “Can I take you home?”. Even the co-hosts are adjusting their ties and smiling nervously, unable to contain their enthusiasm for being just this close to a darling teenager. Their ensuing banter is nothing short of flirtatious and the co-hosts do what they can to stroke Miley’s hand and hair while trying to slip their arm around her waist.

What do you think of this picture I have painted? Pretty cool, huh? No, I didn’t think so either. I think it borders on some sicko pedophilia and, literally, the thought of it turns my stomach. Grown men treating a young girl in this manner? Ugh.

Yet, I was fortunate enough to witness a similar scene just yesterday as I sat down to watch The View when their featured guest was Justin Bieber. They and their audience acted towards him just as I have described above with the Miley Cyrus scenario. And no one seems to be thinking twice about it or thinking that it is grotesque. Except me, of course. Why is that?

Probably for the same reason that when a cute female teacher is caught in a sexcapade with a teen boy there are usually snickers all around and comments along the lines of “Wish my teachers in high school looked like that” or “Yeah, he’s one lucky fella”. Is that fair? No. It sure the hell is not. In fact, it is just one more way that gender equality in this country seems eons away. Just when you think we have finally gotten our act together as a society, little tidbits like this chip away at any perceived progress we may have made. A shame, I tell you. It is a damned shame and it should cease sooner rather than later.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

What's Your Problem?!

When you talk to people about their childhoods, as I am prone to doing since I am nosy like that, there are typically either a long or short list of complaints that they are quick to register. Maybe their father never said "I love you" or their mother was overbearing or a sibling was clearly the preferred Golden Child. Of course, some complaints are actually rather serious (read: abusive). For the purposes of this blog, that is not truly what I am talking about. I mean, just general bitching and moaning that they were ripped off by not having the ideal childhood. Or, what they presume is ideal.

I mention this because I recently interviewed my brother for a book I am writing about our father. This brother, who shall remain nameless for no real reason other than the fact that "remain nameless" sounds cool and mysterious, is the kind of guy that appears to be totally self-sufficient. Really together. Very much in control and wanting for nothing emotionally. One of those people that accepts whatever life has thrown at them and makes the best of it without looking back. No regrets, no repairs required.

So I was surprised when this Nameless Brother (still uber mysterious, no?) went on and on during our interview about how he had yearned for more attention, affection and positive reinforcement during his childhood. Even now, some 50 years later, these soft emotions and deep disappointment were so apparent. Believe me, we did not come from a neglectful home and he got, in terms of attention, pretty much about the same amount as any other kids in our upper middle class slice of suburbia.

But I don't want to talk about him....this is my blog, so let's bring this back around to me (see, we all crave attention). My own children, Brilliant Bradley and Perfect Paige, have had what I consider a super blessed childhood. Great vacations, constant encouragement, life in a safe subdivision, loads of opportunities, and fully supportive parents. Seriously, in the Championship Of Parenting, my husband and I have successfully landed in the top 10%.

Which leads me back around to my first thought -- childhood complaints. I can't help but wonder that when my kids are quizzed by some nosy friend, neighbor or other intrusive freak about their own childhood, what will they say? Since we all have mild to moderate (if we're lucky) complaints about what went down the first 18 years of our lives, what will these kids who share my DNA say? There must be something.....right? How about "My mother loved me too much" or "My dad provided excessive positive reinforcement" or "What, you think it is so great to be told that you are loved a dozen times per day". Maybe it will be like one of those job interviews where you are asked about your weaknesses and you are supposed to present them in such a way that they are actually strengths. "I am too honest" or "I tend to be a perfectionist". Side note: Seriously, do human resources professional actually believe that BS? What do they really think when people say that? Probably that they are hiding some serious personal flaw, like they plan to pilfer the company pens and steal their co-workers ham on rye sandwich from the communal staff fridge.

In one way I can peep into the future on this one. My kids are space nearly ten years apart, so in a few years I can quiz 18 year Brilliant Bradley about his childhood and then still have a few good years to fix whatever I have broken with Perfect Paige. Still, I think we are clean. You know why? Because amazing children make parenting easy.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

We Meet Again

Am I the worst blogger in the world? Well, maybe not. I mean, I am not filling this site with homphobic rants (let's leave that to Tracy Morgan), personal attacks on my exes (so not worth my time) or sappy little odes to my children (okay, I am occasionally guilty of that indulgence). I am a Bad Blogger because I am a neglectful blogger. This was to be a chronicle of my amazing life. It was to an open diary that you can peep into and share my joys with me. And here it sits...neglected, dormant, empty and pitiful for lo these many months. Or has it been years? Scroll down and verify for yourself. What am I, your mother? Pull your own weight on this blog.

I will not bore you via getting caught up on the highs and lows of our life here in suburban Chicago. There has been parenting challenges, marital bliss with a side of toe-to-toe disputes, awesome vacations and dismal health issues. There has been the blossoming of children, extended family, lines of business and personal growth. Oh, yes, we have all been to that Zen place by now -- Scott heads there via Budweiser, Bradley by way of guitar genius, Paige is All Zen All The Time and I achieved spiritual and undying peace by writing. Okay, that is a lie. I get paid to write and I happen to like it. Most of the time. Writing 500 words about how great silk flowers are or 750 words about 3D televisions can be mind-numbing. The dance to the bank? Uber gratifying. Do you enjoy your job 100% of the time? Smiling around the water cooler, skipping to your office, singing as you type, mold, design, fix, or whatever? Nope, me neither.

So enough about me and my neglectful habits. Would it surprise you that I also fail to dilligently floss, haven't cleaned out my freezer since the democrats held the House, and have three Christmas items that have yet to make it to the basement? It seems that you and I are fairly similar, no? Because I neglect so much of my life and control so little of it, I vow here and now to commit to this blog. I want you to come back, I want you to be amused (laugh with me, laugh at me, laugh near me) and I want to get back to writing for me....well, also for those folks that pay the bills as well, but mostly it is all about ME.