This image alone wants to make me watch Gorilla at Large (1954); normally it’s the girl with the dollie and the boy with the cig.
Sign Of The Times: 1976 (Labor Day Edition)
Which serves as a good reminder for this Labor Day… Playboy Bunnies, models, phone sex operators, and sex workers work hard too. That’s not a joke; we have to treat others with equality and respect as well as demand it.
Images via Swimsuit Issue and Suicide Blonde.
The Spiked Heel Gets Served The Snark
Miss Fussypants cracks me up. This is what she wrote (at her typically NWS blog) about The Spiked Heel, by Richard Marsten (1957):
“The hardest-hitting, best-written novel on big business since EXECUTIVE SUITE,” you say, hmmm?
Seeing as I never hoid of either, I’ll need to take your word for it, Mr. Sterling North — if that’s even your real name.
“Yeah, I’m still going!! They forgot to cut my tongue out!”
There’s truth in comics, you know. Just look at this statement on the power of women’s voices:
The brunette is Pat Patriot, “America’s Joan of Arc,” and the blonde is Heppy, her sidekick, I guess. This is how they appeared in Charles Biro and Bob Wood’s Daredevil #11, June 1942. Lovingly scanned & presented at Pappy’s Golden Age Comics, where, just in case you think I picked the most misogynistic or salacious part, Pappy notes the following:
Pat has a villain worthy of his name, The Mallet. He’s a torturer, and we get some juicy panels with some bondage and torture.
As is oft the case with comics, sex and sexism are in there as a mix of thrill and the ultimate threat. (And, as this is wartime, so is the racism.) But what’s really interesting is the fact that even if the setreotype of the jabber-mouth woman is there, this vintage comic does present the truth: No matter what you go through, if you’ve got your ability to communicate, your truth is your power.
Heppy! We women with voices are all right indeed.
PS As a feminist, I heartily support your right to consensual bondage and torture scenes. I just felt that needed to be said.
Can’t Dance – Please Do Ask Me!
Retro rumpus room decor, from Old Toys Games and Cool Stuff,celebrating the non-dancing male.
For Those Who Think Pin-Ups Are Stuck-Up, I Guess…
A vintage ceramic pinup — pencil holder?! While I struggle with the idea of such a pencil holder, what else could it be?
The seller, luxebetty,shares the following details:
Made in Japan 5 1/2″ tall by 5″ wide and 2″ deep. …holds 6-10 pens, markers or pencils.
So you know luxebetty’s stuck stuff in this pinup’s butt.
While I have no idea to see figurine rape, I kinda want to see the pencils sticking out… Just to see if that’s really the intended purpose.
I struggle with stuff like this; I really do.
Signs Of The Times: 1890s
An incredible antique cabinet card (from bondman2 @ eBay
) showing a home decorated for newlyweds.
Note the old paper lanterns and the plethora of handmade signs — most of which resemble tombstone R.I.P. notices.
Additional seller notes:
Cabinet Card photograph circa 1890s-1900, measures 6″ x 7″, marked “This was taken when Ben Shriner was Married-Mrs. Joyce Roth, RD 6, York, Pa.”
Back When Women Were Women, And A Slab Of Meat Was $4.25
Though I have no idea what the women may have cost, I suspect both slabs of meat were mouth-watering and choice cut.
Vintage menu and mailing souvenir from the Colony Club — “Every Tuesday Battle of Burlesque Queens” — which should not be confused with this Colony Club. This Colony Club was located on Western Ave at 149th Street, Los Angeles, California.
Play With Billie Jean
Love Billie Jean King? (Well, you should!) How about a deck of playing cards with the famous tennis player and feminist icon on them? From the Sports Deck Div., Cubic Corp., original drawing by Allen Landsman.
We Love Betty White Because She’s Blue
Betty White is my idol. I’ve been a fan my entire life — even when my beloved grandmother stated her dislike of Ms White (which was weird, because my grandma was sooooo like her!).
I thrill at every chance to watch her, especially when, in 2006, Family Guy included her as the book-on-tape voice of Peter’s erotics novel, or Peterotica:
Welcome to Peterotica on tape! I’m Betty White reading The Hot Chick Who Was Italian, or maybe Some Kind of Spanish by Peter Griffin. Chapter One: “Oh God you should have seen this one hot chick. She was totally Italian. Or maybe some kind of Spanish….
But I digress.
As you all know, Betty White was on Saturday Night Live this weekend. The show drew the biggest ratings since November 2008, pulling in somewhere between 12 million and 13 million viewers, according to preliminary Nielsen estimates, some of whom said the show was too blue — but what the heck did they think Betty White was going to do? She’s been risqué, the queen of delivering double entendres, for decades! And it’s one reason we all love her.
I was especially heartened to see the huge number of former SNL female comedians who returned to perform with Betty. I choose to believe that upon hearing that Betty White was scheduled each & every one of them called and asked to be on the show too. I have no proof of this — and don’t contradict me; I prefer to enjoy such thoughts.
If you missed SNL this past Saturday, you can get yourself on over to NBC.com to watch the entire episode — as well as three sketches which were cut from the show due to time. My favorite of the cut sketches is the “Debbie Downer does a suburban lingerie party.”
The other cut sketches: Joyologist and Bronx Beat.
Magic Lantern Glass Slide: I Want To Sing Along!
This old glass movie slide was probably used in an old movie theatre at intermission or before the show started — when people would sing along with songs together rather than just collectively ignore the ads.
This antique glass slide by Maurice Workstel of New York is from a series called Song-Hit Slides and the lyrics shown are, “There are two sides to every story, But Nobody Listens to mine.”
Fabulous vintage fashions and transportation images; but I want to read more of the song! Anyone know more about the song itself?
For Feminists Who Like To Keep Being Cross To Their Needlework…
Soul Train Lessons
Hubby and I enjoy the hell out of reruns of Soul Train.
Rediscovering lost musical loves and finding new-to-us artists to hunt for, like Johnny ‘Guitar’ Watson, is too awesome. The clothing and dances are feasts for the eyes. Don Cornelius holding the mic a hundred yards away because his deep booming voice doesn’t need a mic, but the show totally believes in the props, is a hoot. Spotting regular dancers and keeping up with yesterday’s lingo… It’s heaven.
But we also play this game when we watch reruns of Soul Train. The Soul Train Game is to guess the year of the episode before the credits roll and reveal the answer.
Amazingly, hubby always wins — even though he was an underage kid when most of these shows aired.
You’d think I’d have the advantage; not only was I buying plenty of records
and tapes, but soon I was out dancing in (and dressing to kill for) the club scene too. But no, hubby, the stay-at-home-young-pup wins.
I’d like to think it’s a matter of me over-thinking my answer (I lived in the Midwest, so how far behind were we in the fashions?). But the simple fact is, he is smarter about this stuff. I’m greatly disadvantaged because I don’t think in terms of years; I view life and history as “chapters” and “episodes,” and am hard-pressed to name dates. His knowledge of technology and historical time lines beats out my real life experience — at least in this case.
(In fact, I always turn to him to help me date any antique or vintage collectible — even clothing — because he’s so damn good at this stuff.)
But I have another point to make, another story to tell, so I’ll move along…
The other day, hubby and I were joking about the Soul Train Game, and Destiny, the 13 year old, asked us what we were talking about. Have you ever tried to explain Soul Train and American Bandstand to a teenager of today?
She couldn’t fathom the idea of kids wanting to watch a bunch of kids dance on TV, let alone that those dancing kids had groupies and fan clubs of their own.
So how could we move on to the issues of race and lip-syncing — often with a microphone from the future, with a fake short cord that wobbled about. But we did. Because that’s the kind of context geeks hubby and I are.
Honestly, I think Des understood the race issues and the faux Microphone Of The Future better than the concept of turning on the television to watch a bunch of kids dance.
I’m sure getting over this speedbump of understanding is thwarted by her preference for Goth-kid-attire; she’s not interested in finding out the latest trends in fashion.
I’m sure the fact that learning dance steps is only relatable in terms of the uncoolness of line-dancing in phy-ed — or today’s shows which emphasis professional dancers, oft paired with celebrities. Destiny’s clearly not thinking she should bust a new move on the dance floor — or that watching teens dance on TV would be the way to learn. You’d Google it, right?
I guess the basic problem here is that these shows didn’t spoon-feed you the dance steps, or break down fashion into sponsored “must haves.” You watched, like a voyeur, identified what you wanted, and figured it out. So to kids today, the concept of watching teens dance on television is like watching a party through a window — only you’re allowed to go, so where’s the thrill?
And so I didn’t even try to get into Solid Gold or the Solid Gold dancers.
Even after she watched Soul Train with us (right after a Ru Paul’s Drag Race episode) it didn’t seem to make sense; she made it through the hour of Ru Paul, but only 20 minutes of Soul Train.
Explaining teenage dance shows to kids today is like explaining the joys of watching fuzzy YouTube clips of a kid & his light saber dancing to Star Wars to the kids of yesteryear.
Weasel Pouches – I’m Just Sayin’…
Chain Mesh Cigarette Cases are now on sale for just $4.99 — which reminds me…
My aunt, and pretty much everyone else on my mom’s side of the family, had a cigarette case which doubled as a coin purse; it was called a “weasel pouch.”
Sale found via Shop It To Me sale mail.
Shopping For Awesome Toys In Retro Sexploitation Flick
Over at French blog Au carrefour étrange, a review of Joseph W. Sarno’s Flesh and Lace (1965).
Since the site is in French, you may be confused — but it’s apparently exactly how it looks: A film that starts at a strip club and ends up at a toy store, with a woman seduced by a giant stuffed lion.
The images expose glimpses of tantalizing toys and nostalgic games from the 60’s, such as Mastermind, Hands Down, Marx toys, robots, and stuffed animals.
Ah, to be teased by vintage lingerie, nudity, and some incredible retro toys — I must buy this film!
Thanks to Klaudia’s post on the shoe and stocking scenes which sent to me in the right direction to find this review.
British Ladies Cat Fight With American Women, 1832
Since I love old beauty tips and their cultural context, I was intrigued by A Slip of a Girl’s posts sharing clippings from the March 1831 issue of Atkinson’s Casket (aka The Casket). In that same issue, found via Google Books, I found this great article on painting on glass — but I wanted more.
In another issue, from 1832, this incredible review of Frances Trollope‘s Domestic Manners of the Americans (1832):
Mrs. Trollope has treated America with the same liberality, and her success in depicting the character of our people, has been nearly as great as captain Hall’s. An unsuccessful speculation in Cincinnati, awakened, it appears, the indignation of Madame T. and she forthwith—with the assistance of the notorious Fanny Wright, with whom she travelled, and whose abominable doctrines she appears to have imbibed—resolved to glut her revenge by writing a book. No doubt she is now satisfied, for she has the pleasure of seeing it stated in print, sanctioned by her name, that the Americana are the most illnatured, ungenerous, wicked, illiterate and vulgar people on the face of the earth ; that their moral sentiment is less elevated than that of the savages, and that the half-horse and half-alligator population of the Mississippi Valley, are as uncouth and as barbarous as a nation of Ourangutangs.
Mrs. Trollope, however, certainly unwittingly, pays American ladies, a very high compliment. Having fixed upon the society of Almacks as the criterion by which to examine the character of our ladies, she finds that they are all utterly destitute of polish; of that easy, lady like deportment, by which English ladies are distinguished throughput the world, and entirely ignorant of those amiable accomplishments in maneuvering, &c. which give her own countrywomen so strong an influence over their husbands. Our ladies are too modest in their behaviour and dress, to meet the views of Mrs. T. ; in company they want loquacity ; they seldom visit theatres; they arc respectful to their husbands, and indefatigable in instructing their children ; they are but indifferent dancers, and speak Italian shockingly incorrect ; and finally they are not carried away with foolish and ridiculous fashions. All these are serious faults in the opinion of the immaculate Trollope, and she vents her spleen at them in no measured terms.
Trollope’s sentiments seem very much to echo those of this article from 1907 — so much so, that I double-checked that Trollope was indeed deceased in 1863. However, as this article, titled British Cockney Writers, shows, this apparently was quite the trend during this period.
Included in this issue of Atkinson’s Casket are some excerpts or “extracts” — of which I found the following quite amusing:
The ladies have strange ways of adding to their charms. They powder themselves immoderately, face, neck, and arms, with pulverised starch; the effect is indescribably disagreeable by daylight, and not very favorable at any time. They are also most unhappily partial to false hair,which they wear in surprising quantities; this is the more to be lamented, as they generally have very fine hair of their own. I suspect this fashion to arise from an indolent mode of making their toilette, and from accomplished ladies’ maids not being very abundant; it is less trouble to append a bunch of waving curls here, there and every where, than to keep their native tresses in perfect order.
Though the expense of the ladies’ dress greatly exceeds, in proportion to their generalstyle of living, that of the ladies of Europe, it is very far (excepting in Philadelphia) from being |n good taste. They do not consult the seasons in tne colors, or in the style of their costume; 1 have often shivered at seeing a young beauty picking her way through the snow with a pale rose-colored bonnet, set on the very top of her head: I knew one young lady whose pretty little ear was actually frost-bitten from being thus exposed.— They never wear muffs or boots, and appear extremely shocked at the sight of comfortaole walking shoes, and cotton stockings, even when they have to step to their sleighs over ice and snow.
They walk in the middle of winter with their poor little toes pinched into a miniature slipper, incapable of excluding as much moisture as might bedew a primrose. I must say in their excuse, however, that they have, almost universally, extremely pretty feet. They do not walk well, nor, in fact, do they ever appear to advantage when in movement. I know not why this should be, for they have abundance of French dancing masters among them, but somehow or other it is the fact. I fancied I could often trace a mixture of affectation and of shyness in their little mincing unsteady step, and the ever changing position of the hands. They do not dance well; perhaps 1 should rather say, they do not look well when dancing; lovely as their faces arc, they cannot, in a position that exhibits the whole person, atone for the want of tournun-. and for the universal defect in the formation of the bust, which is rarely full, or gracefully formed.
PS Apparently this had all been previously published in The Saturday Evening Post; the connections between and history of The Casket and The Saturday Evening Post are well documented here.
Breaking Free Is A Drag (Or, Drag Queens Part 1)
Glowing Doll Danielle says she was “totally gob smacked” watching Freddie Mercury’s “sexy mustachioed housewife” in Queen’s I Want To Break Free.
In her post, Danielle also wrote:
I love drag queens because they can dress like women but without all of the pressure to look pretty or be sexy. I know there are plenty of women who dress like drag queens but they are few and far between and they tend to be Pop stars.
Umm, I could be wrong here, but I’m pretty sure the sole point of being a drag queen is to look pretty and be the (supposed) feminine ideal of sexy.
I think part of Danielle’s confusion here — and there’s plenty to be confused about traversing those fine, slinky, and slippery lines between drag queens, female impersonators, transgendered folk, cross dressers, fetishists, etc. (note: no mention of gay folk here) — is mistaking Mercury’s artistic gender-bender performance for Mercury being a drag queen.
Freddie Mercury in drag is not Freddie Mercury, Drag Queen.
The simple & pure existence of a mustache sort of illustrates that point — and my point about a boundary pushing performance.
Danielle gets close to those distinctions when she writes the following (exactly as typed at her blog):
To me anyway, Drag culture is as much about attitude as it is about aesthetic. It seems to exude a sort of ‘Don’t give a fuck’ attitude which I think everyone could benefit from. Ultimately there is a humour born from sadness underlying the aesthetic. The theatricality used as a kind of armour against a world that is so un accepting of others.
If I could be a part of either world I just feel that I would be freer some how. I find myself, inpsite of a vast collection of clothes and accessories, dressing drably from day to day. I guess I fear judegement by small minded people and on a deeper level just want to dissapear sometimes (hard to do with electric coloured clothes, spiked accesories and gigantic hats).
The mythical non-mustached Drag Queen Mercury, like other Drag Queens, probably would have had a female name and completely distinct female persona to go with it. And none would have seen drag as an armor but as flamboyant exhibitionist expression — that people would still sling arrows at.
Mercury in drag wasn’t exactly like Travolta in Hairspray; Mercury’s dress was a theatrical application, use of imagery to make a point. Or at least a slightly different point. And the whole point of Freddie Mercury et al and their obvious appearance as men in women’s clothing (along with other things in this video and aspects of Mercury’s life) was to expose absurdity, especially the norms of “normal,” to break free of everything — everything except that vacuum, that is. *wink*
The View From Here, Part II
So, like Stacy (who gave birth during The View), I’ve spent the last few weeks as a Brand Ambassador for The View and thought I should share some of my thoughts on the experience. I’ve blogged about a few of the shows, but I think the most interesting conversations were those I had with friends and family.
Most of my closest friends are internet friendships — not only because my life as a freelance writer keeps me glued to my monitor, but because these friendships have been formed on mutual interests and issues. As a result, we all seem to have the same likes and dislikes about The View — most especially our feelings regarding the ladies of The View. For example, we love and trust Whoopi, Joy, and Barbara as steadfastly as we pity and mistrust Elisabeth and Sherri. However, I have several family members who feel exactly the opposite.
Perhaps most interesting is that after all these years of watching, after all the Hot Topics discussion, we each continue to remain rather married to these feelings, beliefs and attitudes despite our firm belief that it’s through this discussion, both the ladies on the show and our less public personal conversations, that we not only can but will learn, grow and change.
Yet, I remain as heatedly fixed on Hasselbeck’s righteous fear-based stupidity (yes, “stupidity,” because she cannot claim ignorance) applied as fear mongering to limit and control others as I’ve always been.
Heck, I still get hot about Hasselbeck‘s confusion between love and sex, her insistence that fairy tales are sex education, and her preaching that the only way we can be saved from the realities of the world we all live in is to stick our heads in the sand — including forcing everyone to join her under said sand and limiting the rights of others even further; she discriminates and insists we all do it with her! That was years ago and my ire won’t die. Not until such stupidity is gone and done.
But neither does the support of Hasselbeck’s position.
So does The View really do what we all believe it will?
Perhaps not — if the only way one measures the importance of such talks is a change in position. But if you consider the benefit of talking in other ways…
Most of the time we take the high road and agree to disagree, taking it to the extreme of avoiding such conversations out of respect. But the cost of doing so is that we avoid the issues.
With The View, we have a frame for the conversation, a table to sit at, and, perhaps best of all, a time frame for discussion. If we listen and talk with each other and then move along to the next thing — be it an issue we agree on, a celebrity interview, or some shopping thing — we have set limits and prove that we can discuss, agree to disagree, and still connect on other issues. Our conversations can be challenging but our relationships need not be challenged.
This, however, is thwarted by The View‘s time slot.
Too many people work days when The View airs. Watching “together” even though miles apart isn’t the only problem; TiVo space and hours in the day not being infinite, intentions of watching later may pave the road to hell. Even watching episodes online is problematic… Even if these family members of mine use the internet (and many of them don’t use it beyond email & photo sharing), it’s just not the same viewing experience.
Maybe ABC should consider giving The View an additional evening showing. Who wouldn’t rather watch it than another same-old Jay Leno dealio?
*****
As a Brand Ambassador for The View, I am a participant in a Mom Central campaign for ABC Daytime and will receive a tote bag or other The View branded items to facilitate my review; as you can tell from my long-winded posts about The View, the tote or whatever I may get is not my priority, but I mention it to be ethical.
A Customer Loyalty History Lesson
TWA used to have absolutely delightful certificates to commemorate flights, like this one from 1953:
They used to give these fanciful certificates to passengers as souvenirs — and as a loyalty buy in. But unlike attempts at ‘keeping’ customers interested with temporary gimmicks, TWA had them take an oath:
Now, Therefore, Know Ye, that this Celestial Dominion herewith doth bestow this Certificate of Flight on said Skyliner Passenger, who doth solemnly covenant forever to keep it unsullied and to use, recommend and support Air Transportation to help foster amity between nations and good will amongst the peoples of the Earth. In Witness Whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, (printed signature) President, Trans World Airlines, Inc.
Wouldn’t it be great if you could find such a charming, creative way to ensure your customer’s loyalty?
*****
What’s this Big Mouth Promotions thing? Oh, OK, now I get it.
Ignore Rude Emails “Offering Links Swaps”
How many times a week do you get the following email:
I’ve visited your website ( url ) and I was wondering
if it would be possible to get a link to my (my partner’s) website on it?I’ll place a link back to you in X of my (topic or topics, usually unrelated) websites, your link will be placed exactly here:
http://whocares page rank 3
http://whateversville page rank 2
http://bumble-f page rank 2If you agree, then please link to me using these details:
TITLE: (keyword stuffed)
URL: (a specific page on their SEO seeking domain)
DESCRIPTION: (more keyword stuffing)Please don’t forget to send me the title of your website after you
place my link so I can do the same in less than 24 hours, otherwise you can delete my link from your site.
Arg!
You can rest assured that these requests are 100% spam, no matter if they correctly contact you about one of your own sites. Here’s the proof:
1) These requests don’t even make sense because, generally speaking, my sites are so far off their topic they do not serve their best SEO manipulating interests. A human would recognize that.
2) The fact that they want you to go ahead and post a link to them first isn’t just rude (the one requesting should always place first and then notify, asking for notification of the recip), it’s them counting on a (however small) percentage of those emailed to place the link, giving their sites either a quick bit of juice &/or, counting on people forgetting to verify the promised link(s), giving them free un-reciprocated links.
Just delete and move along with your day.
Dogs, Cats, Mr. Right, And Other Companion Animals
When making a list of qualities you are looking for in a mate, don’t overlook some of the basic fundamentals of companionship you’ve enjoyed in relationships with pets.
Forget about those jokes (and the sometimes realities) of people looking like their pets. Forget about Dominatrixes (and Cosmo articles) which tell you to treat your mate like a dog — and to train your mate before he or she trains you. Forget all that stuff and think about what you can learn about dating and relationships from your pets. After all, pets are companion animals — and that companionship thing is pretty important when it comes to dating, relationships, and selecting a mate.
Whether you have a pet now or must recall your furry friend from your past, I’m sure you’ve experienced pets who were perfect for you and those who drove you crazy. Somethings (like being woken in the middle of the night by a cold wet puppy nose — or vicious needle-like kitten teeth — on your toes) are likely not to repeat themselves with humans (at least not without special circumstances — or, if you like such things, assistance), but you can still learn a few things about relationships from Rover and Misty.
Just how much time you spend with your pet — and what you do together — can give you clues to qualities to look for in a mate. Are you and your ideal companion animal more apt to get up and start each day with a 30 minute run, or more likely to snuggle together on the sofa watching hours of classic films on TCM? Or maybe your ideal companion doesn’t snuggle so much as “is around” while you lounge on the sofa… You share the same love of relaxation but you both appreciate your space; neither of you enjoys smothering nor being smothered.
I’m a very nervous person; little, jumpy, nervous dogs who bark a lot drive me nuts. I avoided committing myself to people who would similarly drive me nuts — and looked for people who didn’t mind my energy, nerves, and yes, my barking. (In my marriage, I’m definitely the vocal little bitch — but it works for us.)
If you haven’t any pets now, you might also consider “why you haven’t” as offering some meaningful insight into your relationship readiness, needs, & expectations. If your work makes pet ownership seem unfair (traveling too much, may relocate at any moment, or otherwise cannot take on the responsibility), then perhaps you aren’t ready for the responsibilities of human companionship either — well, you’re probably not ready for a live-in relationship at least.
If you think stray hairs on your sweater or the sofa are too distressing to even consider them a fair trade for any companionship, it won’t help any if the hairs come from a human head (or a human giving head); you aren’t ready for the give and take of a relationship.
If you think of a pet as “someday” thing, think about what sort of pet you’d be most likely to get.
More often than not, “Dog People” or “Cat People” are just more annoying labels we use to dismiss people but there are things we can learn about ourselves as dog &/or cat people — if we stick to characteristics, not amusing stereotypes.
“Cat people” often prefer cats because they are more self-sufficient and less needy than dogs. So if your schedule or personality means you won’t be home everyday at 6 PM to feed, walk, and entertain a pet, then it would be best for your ideal mate to be more self-sufficient and less needy too.
“Dog people” often say they prefer dogs “because they listen” or “they aren’t as sneaky as cats” — what I think they are trying to get to is that dogs are typically more likely to come when called and willing to spend time with you than most other pets.
If you’re a self-described dog or cat person, what are your reasons — aside from allergies, there’s probably a lot you can learn about who Mr. Right will (and won’t) be.
Image Credits: Cats Rule Poster by DiscoveryPets.
Too Many Babies, Not Enough Babies, WTF
The ladies of The View were not immune to the irony of having a show about infertility one day after the show with Nadya Suleman aka the Octomom. In their Hot Topics discussion (always my favorite part of the show), Whoopi noted it and there was brief discussion on why Suleman arouses so much heated debate.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lKBVeL5VJi8
At first I was surprised when Hasselbeck defended Suleman — I expected her to be a hard-line republican on the welfare business at the expense of fetal life, even though that fetal life was a medical “opt in” not a manual one — and by a single mother yet. And I was more than a bit surprised by Whoopi as well. I wasn’t surprised at her talk of responsibility in having so many kid so much as what was missing from the conversation.
See, what bothers me the most about all the Octomom haters is the lack of compassion and tolerance. Not just for the buckets of crazy that motivate having so many children, but for outrage expressed at her while folks like the Duggars (of 101 Christian Pups & Counting) continue to skate — even past Jon & Kate Plus 8 before the marital drama. I vented about all this before, but here it is again:
Before watching the Dateline interview of Nadya Suleman, my only interest in this story was the passing thought of, “Will this family replace Jon & Kate Plus 8??” I honestly had no idea of the squawking & hostility towards this mother of six who just gave birth to octuplets. In fact, I was surprised to hear of it — and that’s what drew me towards the show.
(Personally, I’d like to lay a large part of this concerned indignation from our nation on the bitterly infertile; but even the fertile seem to be pissed off. So it’s larger than that… Hit a larger American nerve.)
What I saw was an articulate young woman who managed to keep her own anger at bay, who seemed understanding and forgiving of people who do not accept her decision, and was composed yet passionate as she tactfully mentioned her beliefs about the sanctity of life. But it was her earliest statements, regarding other large families, which seemed to lie at the root of all of the hullabaloo.
When two parent families give birth to &/or adopt other children, people seem to respect them. We’re fascinated, yes; we’ve got television shows, both series and ‘specials’, dedicated to such large & extraordinary families. But we treat them with respect in those shows.
However, few seem to respect this woman. As they said on Chelsea Lately, single, unemployed moms who aren’t entrenched in their community church aren’t cute. Funny? Sure. But too true; and that’s what’s not funny. As were the comments Chelsea Handler made tonight (Tuesday, February 10th) about a new mom having a French tip manicure — seeing those nails near such paper-fragile premature baby skin made me whine and wince. And yes, there are some questions about where the money for manicures and whatever is going on with mom’s new lips… But would these statements be made with such heat about other new moms?
Would we trust the judgment of children? When her older children are questioned on Dateline, they mention ‘squishy’ (aka crowded living space) and crying babies. Those may be true things, and even un-coached or non-parroted statements they heard from adults; but are children known for their unselfishness? Not all children welcome additional siblings period. Does that mean parents or persons considering becoming parents take the advice or sentiments of their children to heart and not increase their family’s size because their children complained?
I’m no pro-lifer, but as the mother of special needs children are the plethora of haters (& Dateline) actually saying that it is irresponsible for a family to increase in size because they have special needs children? And sure, special needs kids come with extra bills — but I don’t see anyone worried about me and my family struggling to care for my special needs kids… Where’s the concern for us?
I’m not saying I think Ms. Suleman has all answers or answers that I’d like to hear when it comes to caring for her children; but then, see, that’s the point: This is not my family, these are not my questions to answer, I am not the judge. I’m not a Christian, but I think that’s supposed to be the Christian way; to leave the judging to God.
This is not to say that I, or anyone, shouldn’t care about the welfare of this family, these 14 children — but then most of the people worried are freaking out about the word ‘welfare’ so maybe I shouldn’t use that word…
We currently have no test or licensing practices for parenthood; even adoption has few rules if one has enough money. And don’t let money fool you either; money doesn’t free any family from neglect and abuse — which is what most everyone is talking about in defense of their questioning this woman’s right to a large family.
But it seems to me, too much emphasis is this woman’s single status. It seems to be the bottom line of all the upset reminding me of the old fuss about Murhpy Brown having a baby; a big moral debate about choosing to be a single mom.
Have a two-parent family who keeps popping out children because they don’t believe in birth control, and few take them to task for their lack of common sense, even when they live on the government dole, or in a house that is ‘squishy’. Extra points if they evoke God a lot. And when they have specific religious or church affiliations, no one dares to really berate them because they have religious protections & a coven of church brothers and sisters.
You want examples? Fine. Those annoying Duggars (of 17 and Counting) take their kids to a “wild life refuge” and allow/encourage their kids to feed animals pasty white bread from their mouths, run & chase animals despite the “do not chase the animals” signs — and when asked, bozo dad Duggar says he wasn’t worried about his kids. Apparently God will protect his kids from his own stupidity. Plus they do all sorts of impractical and stunting things to their kids in the name of religion — so we aren’t supposed to judge. Even my beloved Kate of Jon & Kate Plus 8 totes & promotes her faith.
Most egregiously of all, the Murphy family, headed by John and Jeanette Murphy, who, already the parents of four, opened up their home — aka privately adopted — 23 children with Down Syndrome and were the subject of Our 27 Kids. If you want to talk about what’s fair to the children you already have, where’s the outrage that they placed upon their young biological children (two who existed before they began adopting, and two born after) the burdens of special needs siblings? It’s not just the daily grind either — it’s for the lifetime of those children they’ve adopted. As a mom who has had to deal with the safety of one child’s future — aka legal guardianship — in light of other children’s needs, I can’t imagine saddling children with 23 such responsibilities.
But we don’t talk about these issues. Or their economic dole. The Murphy’s admit they too take food stamps, like Ms. Suleman; Jon & Kate likely don’t need them due to their TV deal, their church, etc.; and I bet the Duggars took food stamps & more — at least before the TV deal — and their children, ill-prepared for the real world, are destined to return to such public assistance in the future. But we don’t talk about them because these are two parent families who evoke the name of God & their idea of His vision of morality when speaking of their large families. In the case of the Gosselins & the Murphys, their marital status is a tacit approval of God for most of the gossip-mongering public so ready to judge Suleman.
I guess Suleman should get all kooky with an old time religion and marry a man; preferably the man who biologically fathered her kids — the man her mother claims offered to married her. Then would everyone just shut up about her — or at least just talk about the blessings and realities of raising so many tiny babies? Judging isn’t going to diaper and feed those eight babies. Or her six other children. Nor is is going to help a new mom with her stress. It’s just empty finger pointing.
Well, it’s not completely empty finger pointing… Every finger pointed at Suleman has three more fingers pointed back the the finger pointer. And maybe those people should start there, looking at what makes them so judgmental.
Whew. I’m glad to have that all off my chest. Again.
But back to The View.
(Not that this whole discussion wasn’t about The View; it was. Like I said, Hot Topics is my favorite part of the show, primarily because it’s just like how women talk. But it’s time to leave the Octomom alone and move along.)
Yesterday’s episode was a “special episode” about infertility. While I am not without my sympathies for this issue (something my sister and most of her friends have had to deal with), I am waiting for today– Friday’s — Hot Topic fallout regarding the segment with Bill and Giuliana Rancic. (I know it will be there — especially as Joy mentioned it on her HLN show this evening.)
The short version, for those too lazy to click the above link and watch, it that Giuliana stated that her doctor advised her to gain 5 to 10 pounds to assist conception — and Giuliana resisted.
Now I get that her career is to be a thin woman-child waif on the red carpet etc., and that such a gig requires her to be thin, plus lose an extra 10 for the camera. But her reluctance seemed to have exposed a resentment that she should have to do such a thing in order to have a baby — as opposed to the more sane response that her career ideal weight would be so low that it would interfere with her basic biology.
Giuliana and Bill are both to be admired for sharing their intimate problems for, as they state, the ability to remove the taboo from fertility issues. So I don’t want to sound too harsh or kick folks when they are already down. But…
Giuliana’s statements regarding her earlier career-formed impressions that as a 20-something watching 40-somethings having babies had led her astray, given her the wrong impression about how much time she and her biological clock really had. So perhaps it’s time for Giuliana to see that she too is sending unfortunate messages to women.
By resisting those baby-needed 10 pounds, by emotionally fearing the horrid industry standard of “fat” rather than be horrified by just what those standards do to her and other women who aim to be so slim, she is not only receiving the wrong message, but sending it too.
She would do herself and those who view and idolize her better by accepting the literal baby fat and making a stink about the fictitious and unhealthy standards.
*****
As a Brand Ambassador for The View, I am a participant in a Mom Central campaign for ABC Daytime and will receive a tote bag or other The View branded items to facilitate my review; as you can tell from my long-winded posts about The View, the tote or whatever I may get is not my priority, but I mention it to be ethical.
The View From Here
Last week I became an official View Brand Ambassador, part of the Mom Central campaign for ABC Daytime. This means you’ll be hearing more from me on The View and while I will receive a tote bag or other The View branded items for &/or to facilitate my commentary &/or reviews, I’m really excited to have the opportunity to participate in the discussion about and promotion of one of my favorite shows — yup, one of my favorite shoes, not just a daytime favorite. It doesn’t hurt that we’re supposed to get some face or ear time with show producers either.
In short, being an ambassador for the show means I now have a legitimate reason to watch shows uninterrupted and a larger motivation to talk about them too.
So consider this post a disclaimer — and warning of things to come, both here and at my other blog, Motherhood Metamorphosis. (Heck, it might even show up at other places, depending upon the topic!)
If you’re a fan of The View, right now Mom Central has an exciting contest: The View Sweepstakes. The prize for one lucky winner? A trip to New York City to watch a taping of The View! The sweepstakes is open until February 28th and I encourage you to enter — but I hope I win!
PS If you join Mom Central, befriend me here!
Aunt Lydia’s Baby Gender Prediction Method
I found the following gem in the 1977 J. Gruber’s Hagers-Town, Town and Country Almanack, along with the usually almanac-ery, household tips, and a few grand ads (that I’ll be showing off later). It’s a prediction method for pregnant women to discover the gender of their baby.
In case the name Aunt Lydia sounds familiar, this is not the Aunt Lydia from The Handmaid’s Tale who was responsible for teaching the enslaved women called “handmaids.” (The movie adaptation is where I first fell in love with Natasha Richardson, may she rest in peace.) This Aunt Lydia was Miss Lydia Cline, “a retired practical nurse who lived in and around Hagerstown,” whose method of prediction was heralded to have “an accuracy of over 80%!”
Even though Aunt Lydia had passed away in 1973, the almanac’s 1977 proclamation was to ensure readers that they could still accurately predict the gender of unborn children — under the following conditions:
Here’s an example of just how Aunt Lydia’s formula works. Say, for instance, your last child was born in 1973 on the first day of January; the birth sign under which the child was born would be Sagittarius, the Archer. As the sign did not change but remained the same for the following day, the 2nd, that year, there would be no change in the sex of your next child. If, however, the child had been born January second, it would still have been born under the sign of Sagittarius, but because the following day, the 3rd, the sign changed to Capricorn, the Goat, there would be a change in the sex of the next child.
(One assumes you’ll need the astrological information as provided in past issues of this almanc; for those of child bearing years, who want more recent issues, check the official Hagerstown Town and Country Almanack website. The article also notes that the simple formula does not work with a first child, nor for induced or Caesarian delivered births.)
If only author Margaret Atwood had known of this Aunt Lydia and her prophetic equation… With such knowledge, the gender of babies could have been more than divined, but planned.
It may not have prevented Gilead from increasing the number of gender-crimes (for that’s how, you’ll remember, women were forced into becoming handmaids) or otherwise improved the lot of women, but it would have raised other interesting avenues of thought.
However, Hagerstown’s Aunt Lydia and her formula were incorrect regarding my second child. Not sure if that signals failure on the part of Aunt Lydia, a missing part of the prediction formula retained to secrecy, or if, per the usual, I am just relegated to the position of minority.
Of Brown Marie, Yellow Marie, And Pickaninny (Or, Of Racism In The Toy Wife)
I don’t think I can let Black History Month go by without mentioning 1938’s The Toy Wife.
Primarily the movie is the story of Frou Frou (played by Luise Rainer), a woman found to be so guilty of a frivolous nature, so childlike in her approach to life, that she must suffer the wrath of The Motion Picture Production Code (aka the Hays Code or Hollywood Code). But I think any woman or thinking man who watched the film will see that others are not only guilty of perpetuating her frivolous nature, but of exploiting it as well — especially those who claim to love her.
In many ways, Frou Frou, the character, reminds me much of Norma Jean Baker, or at least the creation of Marilyn Monroe… A woman literally and figuratively corseted by the studios to be “feminine charms personified,” who was then resented and mistreated by the very persons who had shaped her. (Any feminists reading here likely can feel the echoes of such things in their own lives.)
Jaynie’s done a great job in her review of the movie, so I’ll leave it at that and get onto the other thing to note about this film: the racial issues.
Heck, slavery and racism are so prominent in this film that it’s used as proof of Frou Frou’s poor frivolous and immature state.
Her inability to manage her household and slaves leaves her poor husband dealing with bickering slaves; leaving us to conclude that Frou Frou is so childish, she cannot even manage the childish Negros.
Sure, The Toy Wife is a period piece set during the Civil War on a plantation — with all that implies. But unlike Gone With The Wind, The Toy Wife shocks with insights into the treatment of slaves.
We see the traditionally accepted sanitized version of supposed mutual devotion and affection between master and slaves, both on individual bases and and in groups — such as when the mistress of the household stand on the magnificent steps of her plantation mansion and leads the slaves in prayer.
We see Frou Frou slap her slave, something which tells as much about the immediate situation straining their close relationship (you know how women are so willing to slap one another’s face when we get peeved *snort*) as it depicts slave relations.
But we also see and hear family slaves threatened with whippings and being sold, the rather nonchalant pronouncement of such things by white folks punctuates their manipulation and mastery of human beings — exposing the very same frivolous, spoiled, childlike assumptive behavior that Frou Frou is charged with.
But perhaps most shocking is the story of Frou Frou’s devoted personal slave. Played by Theresa Harris (more here), this slave hasn’t any name — they just call her “Pic” (or “Pick”) short for pickaninny.
We discover this supposedly amusing fact when Frou Frou returns home after years away, being schooled abroad. One by one the female slaves identify themselves — including both Maries who individualize themselves as “Brown Marie” and “Yellow Marie.” You will see and hear it in this YouTube clip (at roughly 37 seconds) but Pic’s story, which should immediately follow once the young woman is spotted beneath the stairs, has been (curiously and infuriatingly) omitted.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5DUso6KmQlQ
So while The Toy Wife offers a sad story of womanhood, it also offers an historical slice of southern pie that’s hard to swallow.
But you should watch it. It’s a wonderful film, capturing so many moments of truth… Even if a lot of them are ugly and painful.
Dear Chad, Alltel Customer Service Sucks
A few months ago we switched to Alltel. I love my LG Touch phone, but the other day I had a problem with text messages (a long story) and needed to call for help. You’d think this would be simple, but it wasn’t.
First I had to get another phone so that I could poke, prod, etc. my LG Touch per their directions; then I had to find the number to call. Going to Alltel.com was discovering the first FAIL:
They require you to enter your zip code to get the “offers” in your area before accessing anything on their site.
Since I’m already a customer — a customer with a problem, no less — this is an unwarranted frustration. To help you, here are Alltel’s numbers:
Personal: 1-800-alltel1 (1-800-255-8351)
Business: 1-888-4AT-BIZZ (1-888-428-2499)
Once I call, go through all the prompts — including entering the digits of my Alltel cell phone — eventually reaching the place where I get the prompt to speak to a person. “Hip-Hip-Hooray!” right?
Wrong.
Once you press (or say) that magic number, Alltel forces you to agree to one of those satisfaction surveys. “Press 1 if you’d like us to call you back in an hour or, if you’ve called after 9 PM, call you back after 9 AM tomorrow, on the number you are calling from; or press 2 if you’d like us to call you back in an hour or, if you’ve called after 9 PM, call you back after 9 AM tomorrow, on your Alltel phone.”
Wait a freakin’ minute.
I have to agree to a “How satisfied are you?” survey before I even get any help?!
WTF!
My already frustrated brain was certain that my transfer to a person had been lost and that the system had bumped me ahead to the post-call recording.
I mean, why would they hold a customer hostage like that?
But I angrily spit-out the vocal response and was finally patched-through to a human, a human who — yes, you guessed it! — made me give my Alltel number out again before she could/would help me.
I get that we live in an age where everything has to be as automated as possible because even outsourced jobs cost more than robotic voices and technologic routing. I get that data is at a premium in your competitive business. I get a lot of things about business — your business, and business in general.
But really, Alltel, do you have to hide your contact information?
Do you have to add more layers of insulting behavior to the process, holding human interaction (the very essence of the wireless business) hostage to the tune of promises a frustrated customer must keep?
All of this is like layer after layer of frustrated-icing on a bullshit cupcake.
Here’s a business tip you obviously don’t know, Alltel: It is cheaper to retain a customer than to go out and get a new one.
You don’t retain customers by keeping contact with you at bay, especially when they are already frustrated and calling customer service. So take that advice and stick it in your circle.
Please, Daddy, Buy Me A Pageant
Say, “Hello!” to Miss Kentucky Automotive Wholesalers Association of 1960, Miss Frieda Friedli. (Just one ‘N’ away from Frieda Friendli!)
The photo appeared in the February, 1961, issue of Magic Circle, a publication of Perfect Circle Corporation. The photo’s caption explains that Frieda, who would then compete for the 1961 title of Miss Kentucky (she would not win), was — drumroll, please — the “daughter of KAWA director Tom Friedli.” Umm…
There’s a whole lot more to come from this single issue; stay tunned and watch for the pings.
If You’re Lonely & Wistful This Valentine’s Day…
If the holiday of romance has you looking backwards, remembering a love you once had, a first love, instead of celebrating a romance of today or eagerly looking for the romance of the future, I ask you to limit your indulgent trip down memory lane to just this one day…
Anything longer, anything more than a fond remembrance over a carton of ice cream (shedding of tears optional) is putting your romantic future at risk.
See, we have this tendency to remember the relationships of the past through rose-colored glasses or an emotional layer of sepia tones, glossing over the reasons why it didn’t work out. And the further away in time those relationships were, the worse it gets.
Like the cultural recalling of the “good old days,” we tend to forget that those easy-peasy, lemon-squeezey relationships of yesteryear seem so easy largely because we were younger, our problems smaller. Especially when seen with the older & wiser (and somewhat world-weary) eyes of today.
But the danger of living even remotely in past romance isn’t just that we might be missing the moments of today; it’s that we are seeking simpler times, simpler relationships, setting up unrealistic standards for the relationships of tomorrow.
So feel free to enjoy or even wallow in the romantic past for the day. A day. But don’t try to live there.
Or you won’t ever be happy where you are now.
Image via Since She Left.
Because My Husband Is Mr. WalMart…
OK, maybe so he’s not-so-much Mr. WalMart… But he is Derek — The Derek — of Derek’s Big Website of Wal-Mart Purchase Receipts. (Yeah, I married Internet Royalty — Old Guard Internet Royalty, not a dot.com bust-er, or a guy with some money to buy a presence.) Anyway, because of hubby’s history, I keep an eye out for amusing WalMart stories.
So who could resist an open letter to WalMart entitled, Hey, Wal-Mart, your new case-less milk jugs are retarded:
Dear Wal-Mart,
Congratulations on your latest successful accomplishment in the dairy retail industry. Assuming, that your goal when redesigning your plastic milk containers was to have me spill milk all over my kitchen counters.
You can let the letter’s author, Chase Roper, tell you all about the new product; all I know, is after reading what Roper wrote, there won’t be any new case-less jugs of milk on our WalMart receipts.
While I could just thank Roper for his consumer report, I really enjoy his classy retorts. Like his exit line: “Also, your stores all smell like maple syrup and old people.”
Taking Off Those Kid Gloves About The Collectors Convention
Hey, that conference I’m presenting at, the first annual Bookmark Collectors Virtual Convention, has been written up in the Seattle Post-Intelligencer. Which reminded me that I had not mentioned the event here, pestering you to attend. So, here it is, “Will you please attend the convention?”
I think there’s still some free commemorative bookmarks available, so check that out before you register.
And, in case you missed it, here’s my story about incidentally collecting bookmarks: When I Was A Child, I Bookmarked As A Child (Or, Seeking The Perfect Bookmark).
Image Credits: This bookmark advertising Paul Foster & Co. kid gloves also features palmistry; it was submitted to the convention’s gallery by Laine Farley.