A Very Special "Blossom"

So, I am supposed to be heading off to yoga class, but I really needed to post this...

While I was flipping channels, I caught the summary of an upcoming episode of "Little House on the Prairie." I used to love this show as a kid, but unfortunately, I have been (until now) totally uninterested in revisiting it at this stage in my life. However, the summary of today's episodes was a two-parter that I clearly remembered watching years ago, so I decided to take a chance.

Ok, now looking at the clock, I realize that it will take me a lot longer to write this than I have time, so this will be a two-parter post.

Part I - The quick and dirty summary of this "very special" episode of Little House: Albert, the kid adopted into the Engalls family, falls in love with some puberty-stricken girl who gets raped and impregnated by a masked stranger. I think the girl's mother is dead, so she is being raised by her ultra-strict father, who assumes the worst when her condition is discovered. Because he is in love, Albert offers to marry her, which sets Mrs. Olsen's tongue wagging about Albert being the baby daddy.

Drama...drama...obligatory confrontations, outrage and misunderstandings follow...

(By the way, I really didn't watch too closely, so a lot of this is based on my 20+ year memory).

At some point, the girl either runs away and gets kidnapped by her rapist, or she runs away and gets discovered by her rapist while asleep in an abandoned shack. Masked rapist attacks again, she tries to escape, Albert comes just in time to try to save her but gets knocked on his ass, Mr. Engalls and the girl's father arrive in time to shoot the rapist...but in the excitement the girl falls off an old ladder.

Commercial break...

Albert, Daddy Engalls, and widowed father are sitting around the Engalls' kitchen table. Doctor emerges from the room stone-faced and informs Albert that the girl wants to see him. She and Albert declare their love, share a final kiss, and then she kicks the bucket. Dream sequence ending with another kiss between them.

Cue the closing credits and theme music...

And, you'll just have to wait for my reaction in Part II.

When the Freaks Come Out

I've been thinking about reality shows a lot lately (not because I want to star on one, but just because the scandals that attach to the so-called stars are unavoidable). Specifically I have given considerable thought to both the Gosselin family soap opera and the rumors about Susan Boyle that unveiled themselves earlier this week.

First, I want to address Susan Boyle, since it is relatively easy to determine why she finally had a public meltdown. Some people are not supposed to become famous and clearly this woman is one of them. Sure, she is very talented and maybe it seemed like a nice idea at the time--get her to compete on a talent show so that she could share her gift with the world. But this poor lady has gone from obscurity to infamy in less than the time it took Michael Jackson to go from black to whatever the heck he is now...

And actually, that is an apt comparison--Michael wanted fame and fortune, so he worked for it, got it, enjoyed it and then squandered it. Most people who seek fame understand the downside to their quest. Failure is a part of the bargain. It isn't clear that Ms. Boyle wanted to be famous. She simply wanted to sing a duet with some famous British singer. But when it got to the point that she was doing interviews with Oprah, someone should have considered what would happen if this woman really unleashed all of the stuff she's kept buried all these years in her little Scottish village. Did anyone ever ask themselves why this 48 year old woman lived by herself and had never been kissed? If you consider that it might be because she is unstable, it isn't as heart-warming as it might seem.

So as much as I like Cinderella stories, this one is more likely to end up with her as the subject of a True Hollywood Story than her living in some Hollywood mansion with Prince Charming. (And surely Simon Cowell is no one's idea of a Prince Charming!) How can she win and not be affected? Could she lose and return to a relatively normal life? Perhaps. I think a better question is to inquire whether she still hasn't been kissed even after all of this attention...

Then there is the Gosselin family train wreck brought to us courtesy of TLC.

I really cannot call myself a fan of this show, but when I have seen it, I cringed whenever Kate ordered Jon to do something as if he was one of the kids. I laughed whenever The Soup lampooned Jon's apathy because, frankly, I thought he deserved it. Anyone who would willingly expose themselves this way was simply asking for the ridicule that resulted.

However, this week, I began to wonder if something more sinister was at work. These people became tabloid fodder in the last six weeks because Jon supposedly stepped out on his wife. It just so happens that the season premier of their 5th season was this week...and these two idiots agreed to continue filming while in the midst of an obvious marital crisis? Are we supposed to feel sorry for them?

I vote no because all of these "take a look inside my family" reality shows are nothing more than freakshows anyway. The average family of two kids, a dog and a Volvo are unlikely to be featured. Little people like the Roloff family, families with more than 10 kids like the Duggar family, celebrity couples and has-beens get reality shows. I do not want to imply that the Roloffs, the Duggars or even the Gosselins are freaks like the fictional Addams or Munster families. But our fascination with them has very little to do with the mundane day-to-day stuff their shows highlight in each episode.

Of course the photogenic Gosselins are intriguing, despite the fact that Kate is a deeply insecure woman and Jon is an apathetic and emotionally detached man. For all of its pretense, this show has never been about the well-being of their eight children--it has been about these two incompatible people who were trying not to kill each other. Face it, we watched because we knew it was abnormal to have eight children and not go bonkers. The show that aired on Monday was simply the payoff JK8 fans had been waiting for...they finally cracked!

So onto the next season of freaks...

Feeling My Age

I just watched a performance by New Edition on the Tom Joyner Sky Show, and it occurred to me that I am getting old. Duh...but really, I just had a flashback to the days when just the notice of a performance by this group would cause me to reschedule my entire life. It wasn't that long ago that pictures of Ralph, Ronnie, Bobby, Ricky and Mike (but not Johnnie, not yet) were plastered on the interior of my classmates lockers.

Now, these guys are on the Tom Joyner Morning Show--and I hate to say this, but that is fogey heaven. The audience is full of grandparents still trying to be cool, so I have to believe that when a singer goes on the TJMS, it must mean that they need a gig. And judging from Ralph's thinning hair line, their Temptationesque dance moves, and the fact that they are performing songs that are older than my 20-year old cousin...

When I was 20, New Edition was still semi-relevant because they were the pioneers of the boy band movement in pop music. They revived the format that begat the New Kids on the Block, Jodeci, Shai, Guy, 98 Degrees, the Backstreet Boys, N'Sync and now the Jonas Brothers. If not for them, Justin Timberlake and Nick Lachey would have paid their dues as background singers before being able to strike out on a solo career.

Getting older sucks because it happens without much warning. As I sit here reminiscing, I am reminded of the fact that I graduated from college (at the age of 20) 15 years ago. Back then, being young was the thing I had going for me. I was one of the youngest members of my graduating class which then made me one of the youngest members of my incoming law school class. It made me proud to be so young and to be thought of as so smart.

Now, I am 35 and don't have much to show for it. I am no longer a young lawyer (I think this is the year I get kicked out of that group), so now I transition into that nebulous status between youth and retirement. Fifteen years ago I thought that I would be famous, rich, and still skinny. Well, I am obscure, struggling from paycheck to paycheck, and I have gained 15+ pounds. So I can't really make fun of New Edition for aging when it happens to all of us.

Oh well, they are singing one of my favorites (Is This the End), so I'm signing off.

As the World Turns

So in the time since I last wrote, Barack Obama was elected, inaugurated, feted, and damn near crowned King of the World. His life has changed.

Mine, alas, has not.

I am here because I had no where else to turn. I had a big fight with someone close to me and it has been days since we last spoke. I was okay until today when the reality of everything hit me like a ton of bricks. In my initial anger, I assumed that I would simply take a time out for a few weeks and then slowly work things out. Now in my despair, I am beginning to realize that I must not be even worth the effort to this person, that it might be just fine never to speak to me again. And that upsets me because I would like to think that I am not that disposable.

(By the way, I am being vague on purpose. I know that no one reads this blog, but in an abundance of caution it is best to keep things as generic as possible).

I thought to write about my feelings after I saw a blog post by someone else who seemed to be writing from inside my head. Certain relationships are complicated, and apparently I am not alone. Inside my heart though, I am alone and it hurts worse than anything I have ever felt. To make a long story short, I will say that I am not at fault, it is over something very silly, and I could just take a dive on this one to make everybody happy again. Well, maybe not happy, but civil.

But then nothing ever gets resolved when one person always throws in the towel. (I can't even come up with an appropriate metaphor to explain this...I am just so tired and demoralized.)

So now for the dramatic cliffhanger: This only makes the depression I've been suffering from even worse. If I don't fix my life soon...

Feel free to write your own conclusion.

The Paradox of Michelle Robinson Obama

Finally, my piece on Michelle Obama and her speech at the DNC last month.

I’ve had time to reconsider the intentions of Michelle Obama’s speech last month at the Convention. I have mixed feelings about the impact it made. Sure, I thought it was delivered perfectly, and that it did an excellent job of counteracting all of the negative perceptions that have plagued her since entering the Presidential spotlight. And I’m glad to know that people like her better than when they thought she was the second coming of Angela Davis.

Thanks to that speech, she can compete on solid ground against Cindy McCain in the Mrs. All-American Sweetheart Pageant that candidate wives endure between Labor Day and Election Day. Her off-the-rack clothes and working-class bona fides should convince anyone who wondered otherwise that Michelle is just another girl-next-door who made good (like Laura Bush or Tipper Gore). In other words, she’s a real American wife and mother, and not a pampered, aloof heiress like the aforementioned Mrs. McCain or Theresa Heinz Kerry.

Who wouldn’t like a woman whose favorite childhood show was “The Brady Bunch”?

Before the image consultants and stylists, I actually thought I knew Michelle Obama pretty well. Although I did not know much about her background, it was not surprising to learn that she was a product of the same two-parent middle-class family that tends to produce most successful black women. Michelle Robinson was just like the girls who sang in my high school gospel choir, my college classmates, my sorority sisters, or one of the many women who became my public interest peers early in my career. (Actually, since she is a few years older, she probably would have been one of our mentors.)

Our stories are similar—I watched “The Brady Bunch” too, although I would be exaggerating if I admitted to being able to recall all of the episodes. My parents worked, imposed strict discipline, set high academic expectations, instilled in us a strong work ethic, and (I hope) are very proud of our accomplishments. Like Michelle, I harbored feelings of resentment against those who seemed to take their privileges for granted. So I became a civil rights lawyer out of an odd mix of frustration and veneration for the contradictions of American ideals.

I thought of all this as I watched the C-Span coverage of Congresswoman Stephanie Tubbs Jones’ memorial service in Cleveland. I knew her from my Hill days and attended an event with her. Her sudden death elevated her into the pantheon of archetypical achieving black women. Tubbs Jones did not seem to worry much about perceptions; she was the what-you-see-is-what-you-get type. Speaker after speaker spoke of the Congresswoman’s fearlessness. I could not help but to think wistfully that Michelle Obama represented that same tenacity before the convention.

Since the whitewash (or makeover), Michelle has been recast as some non-threatening black June Cleaver. The new and improved Michelle Robinson Obama bears little resemblance to the homegirl who graduated from Princeton with a bit of a chip on her shoulder. I liked her keep-it-real-ism; it was refreshing. But apparently, America was not ready.

America only seems capable of accepting professional black women as either Oprah or Omarosa. Oprah is the consoling sister-girl; Omarosa is the angry shrew. Michelle Obama may have been friends with Oprah, but her detractors convinced America that her real BFF was Omarosa. To those of us who saw her life story reflected in our own, there is no difference between these two personality types because we embody both extremes. There are days when our inner Oprah has to be that reassuring presence in the midst of chaos and confusion. And then there are those times when we must unleash the Omarosa in order to be heard.

The same image transformation was attempted on Hillary Clinton 16 years ago. The country was not ready for the Hillary Rodham they initially met, so she added her husband’s last name and endured a series of disastrous makeovers to become Hillary Rodham Clinton, a more maternal First Lady. Eventually, she reinvented herself as a powerful, independent woman for the 21st century—an image that allowed her to be a convincing Presidential candidate.

If her husband is elected, Michelle Obama will expand the image spectrum for women of color. She will be a liberator of sorts. The first African American First Lady will evoke the faithful spirit of Coretta Scott King while also channeling the fierce independence of Claire Huxtable. She must carry the mantle of leadership passed to her by Stephanie Tubbs Jones, Shirley Chisholm, Barbara Jordan and myriad others. More importantly, I hope she rediscovers the quality that Michelle Robinson developed as a young woman growing up in Chicago, and what guaranteed her survival at Princeton—fearlessness.

The Roles of Women in this Campaign

I am in between computers, so I've got a post on Michelle Obama that is going to anchor this series of posts about women in American politics. I just need to get the file over to this computer...hopefully before the end of the week.

In the meantime, I got so fired up that I posted my first blog entry on the Obama-Biden website. I intend to post it here too, but again, that is after I upload my Michelle Obama piece.

But, this post can be an introduction of sorts. Or a continuation of the same topic since I've already weighed in on the Palin selection. She has reignited this issue in a way that I cannot fully explain. It is not as if she is the first woman in politics. And she is not the first woman to espouse views I cannot abide. There were moments during the primary campaign where I seriously had issues with Sen. Clinton and her surrogates when it came to invoking gender. But women change the political poker game, so this is an excititing time.

I am actually happy that the conservatives finally realized that women have valuable contributions to make to our public policy debates. Conservatives like Sarah Palin and Condoleezza Rice help to dispel the notion that women are only useful in policy debates about parenting and culture. I have never been ashamed of my admiration for Condi Rice--as far as I am concerned, she is more powerful than Laura Bush. It makes me proud to know that the woman entrusted with representing the US abroad got to the top of the heap on the merits of the qualifications she brought to the table, and everyone acknowledges that fact.

Of course, I cringe at her blind loyalty to the sinking ship that is the Bush-Cheney legacy. Should Sarah Palin succeed Condi Rice as the most powerful woman in the world, she will be expected to toe the line as well. That is what Republicans do--they stand by their men.

But now that the GOP has demonstrated that it can handle giving women some room at the table, Democrats need to remind the public that women have been there for decades. Democrats have long given women positions of power. I have no doubt that if Barack Obama makes it to the White House, he will give women the same opportunities to shine.

I just hope that we will be given more to do than engage in arguments about culture in the kitchen while the men are in the other room talking war. Women's perspectives are vital to domestic policy issues--after all, who brings those meals to the "kitchen table"? But women also have a stake in the other major issues of our time--our children may be sent off to fight, our cars and homes need alternative sources of energy, and we want to keep our friends and families safe too.

So, stay tuned for my little blog series on women in this campaign and politics in general.

18 Million and One Cracks?

If I might opine a bit about the events of the past week: what a great convention! Loved Michelle Obama's speech, appreciated Hillary Clinton's speech, was pleasantly surprised by Bill Clinton's speech, and was totally inspired by The Man himself. Most of the other speeches were what I expected. As Jon Stewart put it yesterday, the "Alabaster Chorus" of old white guys (Kennedy, Warner, Biden, Kerry, Dean, Gore, et al) offered us the right pitch so that things stayed in tune. Of course, the commen-haters remarked on how low on substance the convention was, a perception that was only bolstered by the open-air music festival vibe that preceeded Obama's speech last night. Well, UNITY Fest aside, I was impressed and was all fired up when I went to bed.

This morning, I was still on my mile high when word leaked that John McCain might defy conventional wisdom to select an unknown female candidate for VP. I got excited--was this really going to be a challenge? Without HRC, were the Dems about to be hit by a page from their own "I'm Every Woman" playbook? Who knew that there might be a woman on McCain's radar? Had we totally underestimated the GOP as anything other than an elite Gentleman's Club or Senior PGA Tour?

So, I spent all morning scouring the news sites for the final word that McCain had, for once, made a bold move. Confirmation came and I eagerly tuned in to watch the announcement on CNN. After he droned on about his wisdom and judgment, he introduced...

Sarah Palin, a first term governor of Alaska. She's a young mother and has a couple of years of executive experience in a solid GOP state. She's pro-life, pro-guns and probably will christen the spot where the first oil drill will break ground in the Alaskan National Wildlife Refuge. She is a former beauty queen and small business owner. She embodies everything that the GOP represents in terms of family values and patriotism. In a word, she is perfect!

But she is as exciting as vanilla pudding. After watching her on stage and hearing her speak for five minutes, I wondered why I expected more from her or the GOP. She couldn't have been more predictable. With Cindy McCain as the rich, glamorous wife, Sarah Palin is the nerdy little sister. Maybe that is a sign of progress.

Not really. In the clubhouse that is Presidential politics, a female candidate will have to hold her own and then some. There will be the inevitable comparisons to the other candidates' wives. Her wardrobe choices will be endlessly scrutinized (skirts only, lest she be associated with HRC's Sisterhood of the Traveling Pantsuits). Her children will be compared to the other candidates' children and grandchildren for cuteness. She will be patronized by inane questions when she's forced to appear on Dr. Phil. She'll have to submit a cookie recipe to Woman's Day magazine. She'll be patron saint of the Mommy Wars--unlike the wives, she'll actually have a job in a McCain Administration.

I was willing to endure all of that until I heard her speak. Her remarks confirmed my worst fears--that she is merely the female version of every other bland man passed over for the job. Sarah Palin is no maverick, which is too bad. I was actually looking forward to the VP debate between her and Biden...I imagined her delivering a memorable self-deprecating zinger in response to some unfortunate Bidenist mistatement. But because she is a good Republican, Sarah Palin will not be speaking much for herself. The GOP is big on message control, so no one is allowed to stray too far off the talking points, not even the President.

Furthermore, it is ironic that the first woman in line to potentially serve as Madam President won't get there on the momentum of her own ideas. This was an arranged political marriage--a shotgun wedding of convenience. She might have been the perfect choice for Vice President, but shouldn't the job have been offered to someone who actually wanted to be President some day? I can't claim to know her ambitions, but surely she didn't aspire to be John McCain's work wife for the next four years!

So I'll be watching next week to see if this May-December political coupling has a chance, who gives the bride away, and what she'll be wearing.