To TV or Not to TV

When I was a kid, TV shows always had a little moral at the end. Whatever the problem was, by the end of the half hour it was solved and tied up in pretty ribbons, all nice and neat. Marcia Brady would learn that it's better to be a good friend than go out with that cute football player; Fat Albert and his gang would learn how to deal with that bully; and those people on Fantasy Island would make their dreams come true.

I see a bit of this now on TV, but nearly as much as it used to be. The moralizing is a bit more sophisticated and realistic now. Reality shows, although produced and edited, show people in a much different light. There is moralizing, but there is also a celebration of people screwing each other over. "It's all part of the game."

I can't say that I know which is better. The TV of my childhood gave me unrealistic expectations about how problems are solved. Real life problems cannot be solved in a half-hour. Problems do not get tied up into pretty ribbons. Real life problems are much grittier than deciding to go to the prom with the "right" boy.

Today's TV doesn't flinch away from gritty problems, just watch CSI, Law and Order, or Glee. In fact, TV today seems to love to jump onto any or all subjects. Glee has a teenage gay character that is handled quite beautifully, with dignity and finesse. On the flip side, we have just as many programs that show the worst kind of human behavior imaginable. Anybody catch any of Jersey Shore? Survivor? Real Housewives of . . . (pick one, they're all disgusting).

Every once in a while, I remind my kids that what they see on TV isn't real. I remind them to question the things that they see and hear and to remember what is what. I tell them that advertisements on TV lie, and to question things they hear on the news. I often wonder how damaging this constant barrage of information is on children and their psyches. It's enough to make me want to throw my TV out of the window.

Boys, Boys, Boys

I live with my three sons and my husband. We have two dogs, both males. It's good to be queen. However, there are a few things about living with all this male energy that confuse me.

Things that I do not understand about men:

The absolute delight they take in watching disgusting things. Example, a You Tube video showing a cyst being popped. They all watched it, yelled ewwww, and then watched it again. I left the room.

The way that they all like to hit each other, hard, and then laugh.

They like to jump off of the roof onto the trampoline. They just really like jumping off of things, the higher the better.

There is always a puddle of pee somewhere in the vicinity of the toilet, but not quite all the way in the toilet. Flushing seems to be optional.

The fascination with weapons, and the way they can make a weapon out of anything. Example, a paperweight duct taped to the end of stick.

Their total fascination with anything that blows up.

They like The Three Stooges.

The absolute hero worship of Myth Busters.

Not a single one of them will watch Glee, American Idol or Project Runway with me.

Thank goodness one of these male kids is a father. I just don't get it.

It's us against them!

I have neighbors next door. I'm assuming they are human beings. I haven't actually seen them yet. What I do know about them is that they feed the squirrels.

Iowa squirrels are not the same as the squirrels that live in New York and other northern east-coast venues: those unobtrusive little gray things who skitter about and are not being noticed very often. I would venture to say that most east coasters only notice them when they are getting into their bird feeders.

Iowa squirrels are red and fluffy. They are quite pretty; against snow, they look like a greeting card. However, the squirrels in my backyard are becoming brazen. These squirrels are well fed, and ready to fight for their home. They know a good thing when they've got it. The other day, one of them walked right up to my back door, knocked, and asked for a sandwich. He even asked me to cut off the crusts. The nerve!

These squirrels lay down on top of our swing set, and when the kids walk towards it they start telling my kids off. It sounds like a lot of chirping and spitting, but I know what they're saying: "Hey, kid, this is my turf. Somebody's gonna get hurt. I'm ready to rumble, punk!"

My back yard has become a turf war. It's us against them. These squirrels don't seem to understand who's paying the mortgage around here. I've explained to them many times that these are my trees. I even showed them the documentation. They don't care. Dang cheeky squirrels.

Yesterday, we had a wild turkey in the yard. I hope he's not getting any ideas . . . .

I'm kinda Jewish

I would defy anyone to come up with a longer list of stereotypes for any group than the one for Jews. I'm not just talking about the negative ones. We've all heard those and I'm not going to waste any one's time going over them again. I'm thinking about the little ones.

I can speak with authority because I'm Jewish. Sort of. I didn't know I was Jewish until I was a teenager. I knew some of the people in my family were Jewish, but I didn't know that this pertained to me, too. I had no religious education and we didn't really follow any of the traditions. Yes, there was a Seder here and there and a Menorah once, but this didn't make me feel Jewish.

I think my mom finally explained to me that in Judaism, if your mother is Jewish then you are Jewish. That's why I can be a citizen of Israel if I want. That's a comforting thought. That was not sarcasm by the way, I really do find that comforting. I started to identify myself as a Jew, trying it on like a sweater. It fit. Not my favorite, but cozy when I needed it.

Then I married a Jew. He's not sort of Jewish, he's all the way Jewish. I have been living as a Jewish woman for long enough now to be an unofficial expert on Jewish stereotypes.

Here are a few little ones:

Jews are difficult in restaurants. There will always have to be things on the side, and extra condiments, and special requests. In my experience, this is absolutely true. I myself have witnessed this. I like things on the side.

Jewish women do not mow the lawn. True. I've never seen my mom mow the lawn. I only did it once and only half of it. My cousin told me excitedly that she mowed her front lawn the other day. She's 40; it was the first time. She wore her diamond earrings and necklace while she mowed. "Are you going to do the back?" I asked. She said "No way, Jewish women don't mow lawns."

Jewish people don't drink much. Okay, this one just makes me laugh.

Jewish women like iced coffee. Okay, I'll admit that I hadn't heard this one before. While traveling with one of my non-Jewish girlfriends, we stopped at a rest area and I ordered iced coffee. I really do love iced coffee. My girlfriend said, "Of course you love iced coffee; you're Jewish." Huh? So my girlfriend asked the girl serving us if she had noticed that. The girl said yes. Jewish girls order a lot of iced coffee. I have taken an informal poll and I'm going to have to say that yes, most of the Jewish women in my life love iced coffee. See.

Jewish mothers are a pain in the ass. Well, I know I am.

Jewish people eat bagels and lox and stuff. Yes, that stuff is delicious. Matzoh ball soup is really good, too.

Jewish people are funny. Yes, we are all really funny. It's a riot . . . being Jewish.

A Conversation with Yoga

A Conversation with Yoga

"Where have you been all my life?"
"I have been here, child, you are the one who dissed me." (yoga is a bit hip-hop)
"Why didn't you tell me how good you are?"
"Yo, I can't be bringin' the mountain, you feel me?"
"But, I had no idea!" ( Yoga switching back to normal speak)
"Um, aren't I a requirement for girls raised in hippy families? Hasn't every person who does me (yoga) been telling you for years that this is really good shit?"
"Well, yeah . . ."
"and you get to wear those cute pants."
"That's true . . . but what if I have to fart while doing downward facing dog?"
"Everyone has to fart in that pose. So? You're too good to fart? "
"Yoga, you are so smart."
"I knew you would love me" (yoga is blushing)
"I do love you, Yoga, you're my new best friend."
"Good."

Yoga and I hold hands and walk into the sunset.

The "P" word

Perception is the "P" word I was thinking about. (Hmm, I know you all were thinking something different!)

It's funny how something can be okay for years and then suddenly, boom, it's not okay anymore. One of my girlfriends was buying new furniture. The old stuff was outdated and worn. It was fine for many, many years, but once she decided to bring in something new, that furniture was unbearable for her. "Ugh, would you just look at that!" pointing to a worn spot on the armchair. I hadn't noticed it before.

My Dad lived in a small house with no running water or television. Many people would perceive this as living in poverty. I can picture an expose on the nightly news, a reporter asking solemnly "And you have to wash your dishes on the stove?" Then, "Where do you go to the bathroom?" The long walk into the woods, then a shot of the lonely outhouse. People at home shaking their heads, "Can you imagine? In America?!?"

Yet, my Dad lived exactly as he wanted to and wanted for nothing. His life was rich with nature, and the fulfillment of living exactly as he believed.

My point is, one situation; many different points of view. Sometimes I like to try on different points of view. I like to take a situation and turn it around, study it from different angles. I actually really enjoy having my perspective challenged; it's fun.

My husband and my sister-in-law had completely different childhoods. They grew up with the same parents in the same household and they describe very different experiences. Just a little food for thought. The way we experience the world is directly related to the way we see it and the filters that we create or the ones that were created for us.

Relationships are no exception. Sometimes, you have to look at a person in a new way. People change. Shit happens. People aren't like sofas. You can't just replace them when there's a worn spot on the arm. People get stained, and worn out, and stinky. The important part is to look past those things, make it so you don't even notice. You see, we're not worn out . . . we're worn in.

Driving through the Midwest

Driving through the Midwest

I drove to St. Louis last week to visit my cousin. It takes about nine hours, give or take. The drive goes through Iowa and then into Missouri. It's a two highway drive. I-29 is the Iowa highway. Mostly, I have found the Iowa section of the highway pretty dull. It's flat, lots of farms, and extremely windy. This makes the driving a little tense, since it's not unusual to see cars that have been pushed off the road by wind. The drive from Sioux City to Omaha is along the same I-29 route. It takes 90 minutes, and is perhaps the most boring drive in the entire world. This explains why I don't drive to Omaha very often. It's difficult to keep my eyes open on that drive.

This time, though, I wasn't bored at all. That's because I was watching the hawks. This dull section of highway seems to be the happy home of many, many species of raptors. It's ideal for them. The birds perch atop telephone polls and scan the fields for prey. Their view is unobstructed by trees; there just aren't that many trees around here. It's practically hawk-eye heaven. I have fondness for birds of prey. If I were born a princess, I would have had a falcon-- heck, a whole mews. I have seen a Golden Eagle take wing and catch something on the ground and then fly off. There is no way to watch something like that and not be impressed with the beauty of that dance. So as I drove through Iowa on my way to St. Louis, I watched the hawks.

The other highway is I-70 and the Missouri section is actually very pretty. Hilly and green, pastoral compared to the brownness of the Iowa plains. I saw a herd of elk, fenced in, but grazing happily along I-70. The interesting part were the turtles. I saw a bump in the road, and ended up passing over it. When I looked back it, I saw it was a turtle, a big one, lumbering across the highway. Then I noticed another one on the side of the road, and then another. Must have been turtle mating season or something. They were all headed across the highway, in the same direction. I must have seen a dozen or more. Kept me occupied. Counting turtles.

I don't think I will ever think this part of the world is as beautiful as places that are nearer and dearer to my heart. I will say that there is beauty here. It's not a beauty I'm comfortable with yet. The openness, the starkness, the big sky have their place. The hawks truly are beautiful, as are the horses. Even the rolls of hay, and the fields, have their own brand of beauty. I wonder what someone born and raised here in Iowa would think of the mountains and forests of New Hampshire. Would it take time for the Iowan to see the beauty?

End of the World?

I don't usually lean towards doom and gloom. However, I gotta say things are looking ominous. Just to name a few recent occurrences that seem a bit odd:

Global financial meltdowns. Earthquakes, volcanoes, tidal waves, and the drowning of two American cities in less than a decade--first New Orleans, and now Nashville is under water. Nashville!

It gets better. Two hundred thousand gallons of oil a day are being dumped into the ocean as we speak. The leak has been going on for two weeks. The Gulf of Mexico is being murdered. The best solution so far is to try to put a dome over the leak and pray. Pandora's pipe has been opened and cannot be closed.

Greece has fallen. I'm sure I'm not the only person who sees this as ironic symbolism. Has anybody seen the emperor's clothes?

Our heroes are being charged with rape, domestic violence, and steroid use.

Someone tried to blow up Times Square.

Now, truth be told, I don't think it's the end of the world. I think it may be the end of the world we have created. I think these are the lessons to be learned from recent activities.

The time is now. We need to take better care of the Earth. Mother nature is pissed. We need to put all of our energies into alternate, clean, sources of power and once and for all get off of the oil tit. It's time to clean up, we've made a big enough mess.

Most importantly, we need to take a hard look at greed. It's not one of the seven deadlies by accident.

A Real Mothers Day Card

A Real Mothers Day Card

This is what my card to my Mom should say:

Thank You for not murdering me when I was a teenager.

Thank You for teaching me that all the best men like women who are sexy and smart. Then showing me exactly what sexy and smart looks like.

Thank You for being a feminist.

Thank You for teaching me to love literature and art and music.

Thank You for being fearless enough to put a napkin on your head and give a speech in front of everybody.

Thank You for being as interested in my kids as I am.

Thank You for being my emotional punching bag. You can take a punch lady!

Thank You for choosing my Dad.

Thank You for being my Mom.

I love you.

I'm no quitter

I'm no quitter!

I'm quitting smoking. Tomorrow. No, seriously. I'm quitting smoking on Mother's Day for my children. They are my best motivation. I quit each time I was pregnant and nursing, but always drifted back. I'm not the kind of smoker who can have one cigarette a day, or only smoke when I drink, or smoke only on weekends. In fact, once when I was trying to be the kind of smoker that only smoked when drinking, I had a very drunken month. I actually drank more to smoke. I'm an all or nothing smoker, and truth be told, I'd have a cigarette burning all day long if I was able to smoke as much as I wanted.

So I thought I should write some good reasons to quit smoking besides the whole lung cancer, emphysema, heart attack, high cholesterol, and dying early thing. Those are all really good reasons to quit smoking, but heck, I knew about all that when I started smoking and that didn't stop me. In fact, all the kids who started when I started knew about these things. We are rebels. We thumb our noses at health!

Reason #1
I stink. I can't smell it anymore because the smoke and nicotine has burned out my olfactory senses. That piece of gum that I chew when I'm going to be around people does not help. I like to think it does, but it doesn't. I know this because for a time I wasn't smoking and my hubby was. He smelled like poop, literally. It was gross.

Reason #2
Time. It takes a lot of time to smoke. It's amazing how much time is wasted by taking smoke breaks. Especially, if you smoke like I do. Most of my day is a smoke break.

Reason #3
It's isolating. We smokers are a dying breed. There is almost no place where we are allowed to smoke. We can't even smoke in bars anymore. It's just not that much fun to smoke outside when it's snowing in Iowa. Trust me. Even in my own home it isolates me from my family. I have designated smoking places: outside, the garage, and an attic room that has good ventilation. I don't smoke around the kids if I can help it so I spend a lot of time smoking and being away from my kids.

Reason #4
I feel like shit. Smoking gives me headaches, acid reflux, fatigue, and the ever present and lovely smoker's hack. It's very attractive. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired.

So there ya go. Reasons to quit smoking.

A friend of mine called me a quitter. It made me laugh out loud. Yeah, I could continue to unapologetically smoke in this world. Smoking in our culture now says something about you. It says, yes I stink, and I'm isolated, and against all medical advice I will suck on this thing until I get cancer or have to talk out of one of those little boxes, or until I have to wheel an oxygen tank behind me. That's not really the impression I would like to give folks.

I'm kind of Jewish

I would defy anyone to come up with a longer list of stereotypes for any group than the one for Jews. I'm not just talking about the negative ones. We've all heard those and I'm not going to waste any one's time going over them again. I'm thinking about the little ones.

I can speak with authority because I'm Jewish. Sort of. I didn't know I was Jewish until I was a teenager. I knew some of the people in my family were Jewish, but I didn't know that this pertained to me, too. I had no religious education and we didn't really follow any of the traditions. Yes, there was a Seder here and there and a Menorah once, but this didn't make me feel Jewish.

I think my mom finally explained to me that in Judaism, if your mother is Jewish then you are Jewish. That's why I can be a citizen of Israel if I want. That's a comforting thought. That was not sarcasm by the way, I really do find that comforting. I started to identify myself as a Jew, trying it on like a sweater. It fit. Not my favorite, but cozy when I needed it.

Then I married a Jew. He's not sort of Jewish, he's all the way Jewish. I have been living as a Jewish woman for long enough now to be an unofficial expert on Jewish stereotypes.

Here are a few little ones:

Jews are difficult in restaurants. There will always have to be things on the side, and extra condiments, and special requests. In my experience, this is absolutely true. I myself have witnessed this. I like things on the side.

Jewish women do not mow the lawn. True. I've never seen my mom mow the lawn. I only did it once and only half of it. My cousin told me excitedly that she mowed her front lawn the other day. She's 40; it was the first time. She wore her diamond earrings and necklace while she mowed. "Are you going to do the back?" I asked. She said "No way, Jewish women don't mow lawns."

Jewish people don't drink much. Okay, this one just makes me laugh.

Jewish women like iced coffee. Okay, I'll admit that I hadn't heard this one before. While traveling with one of my non-Jewish girlfriends, we stopped at a rest area and I ordered iced coffee. I really do love iced coffee. My girlfriend said, "Of course you love iced coffee; you're Jewish." Huh? So my girlfriend asked the girl serving us if she had noticed that. The girl said yes. Jewish girls order a lot of iced coffee. I have taken an informal poll and I'm going to have to say that yes, most of the Jewish women in my life love iced coffee. See.

Jewish mothers are a pain in the ass. Well, I know I am.

Jewish people eat bagels and lox and stuff. Yes, that stuff is delicious. Matzoh ball soup is really good, too.

Jewish people are funny. Yes, we are all really funny. It's a riot . . . being Jewish.

The girl in the crew

My oldest son is almost 14 years old. He's got this group of kids he hangs around with and I like them. I'm been watching, with interest, the one and only girl that hangs out with this group of boys. I'll call her H. H is beautiful, smart, funny, and just a kick ass girl. She likes punk rock, she plays the guitar, she dyes her hair every other week. H is an incredible artist, too. This is no preppy, cheerleading type of girl. This is a girl after my own heart. All of her best friends are boys.

Yesterday, I was talking about circles. That way in which things in life come back around. I like this friendship that my son has with H. I was the same way in high school. Almost all of my best friends were boys. There were a couple of reasons for this. One was that teenage girls are complete bitches. Not all, but a lot. Some of the nastiest people on earth are teenage girls. Luckily, we grow out of it. There is a competitive thing that happens with teenage girls that is ugly.

Someday, H will realize that boys won't take the place of a really good girlfriend, but for now she has her crew. The easy friendship that my son has with H is fun to watch. I see that H really understands my boy. As a parent I love watching that. H likes him, too; she gets it. He's a great kid.

Watching my son forge these friendships, I want to tell him to cherish them. These people who like him now, when he's awkward and learning about himself and the world, and he doesn't know enough yet to pretend to be something he is not, are the real deal. Take lots of pictures, son. You will want to remember these times.

Hubby thinks that any teenage boy who hangs out with a girl wants to get laid. I don't agree. I think that sometimes there are girls who transcend that and become real friends. H and my boy are there. Last week, my son said H was mad at him. H was mad because a teacher was giving her a hard time and my son didn't stick up for her. He was upset. He said he should have stuck up for her. Why? "Because that's what friends do." Would my boy have cared as much if it had been one of his guy friends?

Yup, I hope H sticks around for a good long time.

I'm Back

Sometimes, there's just too much to say. Sometimes, there's nothing. I was in the nothing place. Sorry.

The summer before my senior year in high school was the best summer of my teenage life. I had this small group of friends that I was completely comfortable with, good people each and every one. Sympatico people. People who "got" me. That doesn't happen too often.

That summer was all about possibilities. The future was wide open. You know "future so bright, you have to wear shades." When you're sixteen and have no responsibilities and the most important decision that you make that day is who you're going to party with, life is good. The entire summer was spent making plans to go on tour with The Grateful Dead after graduation. It was fun.

We never did go on tour. Most of us went our separate ways, and life happened.

Now, thanks to Facebook, these people are back in my life. I'm feeling a full circle coming back around. Are there divine fingers pulling on strings somewhere up there? Are the fates plucking on that string that has my life on it?

My life had gotten very small, the way life can be sometimes if we're not careful. Kids, marriage, home, responsibilities and narrow focus. It's easy to lose oneself in other people's needs. I had lost myself in this way and woke up to a year of unbelievable loss and pain.

The beauty of loss and pain is the other side. We cannot enjoy the good without the bad. It's the cycle of life and these circles really do come back around, don't they.

So this summer, once again, is about possibilities. I'll be seeing some of those folks from back in the day; I can hardly wait. The talk won't be of going on tour--more likely sore backs and children and 401K's. That's okay, I'll put on my shades and look towards the future.