Pam's pop culture week

You know when you are standing in the bathroom, blow-drying your hair, and suddenly you have this flash of inspiration for a blog post. But you don't want to set the blow dryer aside, especially if a good hair day is evident. Then there's make-up to apply, a bed to make and clothes to put on, in between folding a load of laundry or two. By the time you sit down to write that post, it's as though you have a sudden case of Alzheimer's and everything that was so perfect in your head is gone. Gone!

That's what happened to me today. Hence, here are a few thoughts on the television series, Girls, and the movie Mud. Not what I had in mind for this blog post...but I've never been opposed to the path of least resistance. And writing about pop culture is easy.

HBO's Girls - I recently watched season one on DVD. Lena Dunham, the star, writer and frequent director of the show, plays a young woman, Hannah, two years out of college who had been working as an unpaid intern for a publishing company in New York City for the better part of a year.

Her parents, played by Becky Ann Baker and Peter Scolari (who I loved from Bosom Buddies), have been supporting her; as an aspiring writer, she thinks she could be the "voice of her generation." Her parents have other ideas, and think it's time to cut off financial support. This decision seems harder on Hannah's dad who hates to see his little girl "struggle."

Hannah is suddenly faced with the prospect of real adulthood, whether she's ready or not. In the process, she makes decisions that risk making her unlikable to her contemporaries (the "Girls") - and the viewer. (She also isn't afraid of taking her clothes off, an interesting choice for a "pudgy" actress.)

I don't know how closely her life hews to other, real 20-somethings, but I do remember my 20s as tougher than I thought they would be. Girls is Dunham's take on that life period, only set in an era of Facebook, iPhones and parents who are, perhaps, too emotionally invested in their children.

Even though I couldn't approve of all of Hannah's choices, I loved the show. It's well-written, well-acted, original and real. I can't wait until Season 2 comes out on DVD.

P.S. - Hannah and her parents are from Michigan where Hannah attended "East Lansing High". There's even a reference to a potential job for Hannah at Michigan State University. (Go Spartans!) Anyway, as a former Spartan, I certainly appreciated those specific details.

Mud - The ads for this movie seem to indicate Reese Witherspoon as the star, but she only has a supporting role. While her performance is solid, the real star of the movie is the script: it feels like a novel that starts out slow but builds to a satisfying conclusion.

The movie is about a man on the run, played by Matthew McConaughey, who has found refuge on a remote island in the Mississippi River. He's discovered by two boys with struggles of their own; one lives with his unhappy parents in a houseboat; the other, with his well-intentioned but at times misguided uncle. Witherspoon plays the love interest of McConaughey's character, and is the reason he's in hiding.

There is so much more to this multi-layered, Huck Finn-like adventure - and I loved every minute. (It seems I love everything; maybe I'm not terribly discriminating). My husband thought it was...okay. But he doesn't read novels, either.

Highly recommended for anyone with a soft spot for stories that build slowly, adventure and Mark Twain.

Have you seen either? What do you think of Girls?

Ordinary fathers

For many years, I was a little sad and wistful whenever Father’s Day rolled around because inevitably, there was some article in the newspaper that celebrated a bunch of dads doing ordinary things for their families every day.

My dad was sort of ordinary, at least for a while. He built ice rinks in the backyard and burned piles of leaves in the street (back when it was legal) with a fearlessness usually reserved for Tom Cruise action movies. For a few years, that same bravado turned him into a star salesman, one who traveled and sold the type of stuff surgeons used in the operating room.

After my parents divorced when I was 12, he turned into the kind of dad who’d drop in now and then, with a showman’s flourish, then leave for months, or later, years without ever contacting us.

My mother raised us – three kids – alone.

As much as that sounds like some awfully depressing Lifetime Movie of the Week, there were some good things to come out of it, proving that there are many opportunities in this here lifetime to take a bowl of stinky old lemons and turn them into sweet-tastin’ lemonade.

Because my dad wasn’t around, I think I grew up more self-reliant than some of my peers. Especially if self-reliance meant knowing how to fold fitted sheets or walking along the shoulder of a busy road to my table-bussing-turned-hostessing-turned-waitressing job (you gotta love upward mobility) to pay for college.

I also acquired a knack for delivering a sarcastic quip; that happens when you spend a lot of time deflecting your own self-pity. Later, I used my experience to combat working mom guilt: It might be hard to drop two kids off at daycare before I go to work, but nothin’s as hard as growin’ up without a dad. Thanks, Dad, for toughening me up.

So, imagine my surprise when I worked in a male dominated environment for many years after I graduated from college, surrounded by dads, yes, dads, who stuck with their families, talked about their kids, even had photos of them on their desks. Wow.

Mentally, I cataloged ways in which these and other dads did ordinary things for their children – coaching a daughter’s soccer team, helping a son understand algebra, defending a kid at parent/teacher conferences, saving for college if it were feasible, loaning an adult child money for a starter home. I knew I had missed out on a lot, but it wasn’t until I had all this concrete evidence before me that I realized how much.

Because of that, I made sure the family I married into had a strong tradition of sticking together – where dads didn’t bail. Dads who reap the rewards of being there for their kids and helping them grow into happy adults. If they are lucky, they watch as children graduate from high school or college, start new careers, meet someone to spend their lives with, and maybe, have children of their own.

Did my dad see all he missed out on? I don’t know. But even if he didn’t, I know that not having him in my life wasn’t just my loss, it was his as well.

Originally published in Metro Parent Magazine, June 2012.

This is a blog hop. 

The unanswered phone

Rotary phone

I compose essays for one of my writing groups. Unfortunately, it seems the market for paid essays has virtually dried up. Unlike a decade or so ago when it wasn't all that difficult to get paid for essays in regional parenting magazines and other, attainable markets. Must be all those mommy blogs out there, giving away the good stuff for free. (Why buy a cow when milk is so cheap? Bada-bing bada-boom.) Here's one I'm giving away.

There was a time I’d get excited when the phone rang, especially if it was my best friend, Sue, calling with juicy details of some high school cheerleader’s romance gone south. Granted, that was before anyone knew to use “cell” and “phone” in the same sentence.

These days, there is no excitement when the phone rings – the ID on our landline reveals the caller. And boy, some callers just don’t give up. Like the Red Cross, as much good as they do.

My daughter gave blood – once. Apparently, fine people at that well-known institution of giving won’t stop calling until they can poke her with another needle, draining her of whatever type blood she has. But too bad for you, Red Cross, she’s in college and I’m not giving out her number.

Some organization by the name of “LetsHelpOut” calls several times a day. Are they trying to guilt me into picking up the phone? I doubt they want me to help out in a nice way by dropping off canned goods at the YMCA or delivering meals to homebound senior citizens. They probably want me to send them a few bucks. But guess what, LetsHelpOut, I don’t contribute money over the phone. So stick that one in the list of phone numbers some software program created based on zip code, income, number of pets in the household, eye color, shopping habits at Home Depot or whatever criteria is used to call people while they are watching the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

There’s also MSU, CMU and Wayne State – they call a lot, asking for money, of course. But since aforementioned daughter is a sophomore at one of those schools, we already contribute at the rate of four million dollars a credit hour, so thank-you, thanks for thinking of us, it feels nice to be included, but no. We gave at the office.

My son has a very persistent friend who when he can’t get through to our son on his cell phone, calls our landline. He doesn’t give up until someone picks up the phone. I used to answer but when he’s persistent like that I know he’s been grounded from using his car and wants my son to give him a ride to school.

Dude, I’m on to you. Give it up.

My mother-in-law’s cell registers as private on the ID – so whenever I see that displayed, I know it's her. But lately, others have taken on the identity of private caller and I am deeply disappointed when it’s some clown trying to raise money for the state police ball or fireman’s fund or the other way around – maybe it’s the fireman who have the ball, the police, a fund – oh, it’s all so confusing!

What about the strange calls from area codes I’ve never seen and cities and states where I don’t know a soul?

Los Angeles, CA – was Jodie Foster calling to come out as Mel Gibson’s girlfriend?

Mt. Vernon in NA – The only Mt. Vernon I know is in VA – Virginia.

Marketing Inc. from area code 631 – yet another survey, I’m sure.

989, the area code of my husband’s family’s cottage – maybe I should have answered that one.

Kenneth Sykes from area code 407 – sounds like the name of a Project Runway contestant.

I received a call from Washington D.C. this morning. Why would anyone from Washington D.C. call me? Is President Obama looking for advice on the debt crisis? Or John Boehner, support?

Too bad they called while I was blow-drying my hair. Otherwise, I might have answered the phone.

What calls don't you answer?

The grass isn't always greener

This is why Little Caesar's invented $5.00 pizzas.

I'm cheating again. Posting something previously published. But I've been inspired by a post from a mom defending her choice to stay home -"I Was a Stay-at-Home Mom - and My Marriage Survived" by Empty-Nest, Full Mind blogger Sharon Greenthal.

It was a terrific piece, and even though I wasn't a stay-at-home mom for most of my momming years, who am I to argue? Your experience is your experience and that's all anyone has to go on. So I thought I'd publish this rebuttal...though it's not really a rebuttal.

After my essay was published in Metro Parent magazine last year, the editor published a letter the following month from a reader who thought I was making fun of moms who stayed home. I really wasn't. I was just reporting on my experience. 

Essay starts here...as if you couldn't figure that out. Well, maybe you couldn't. Heh-heh. Heh. I'm joking, I'm jok...eh, forget it.

For most of my parenting years, I was a mom who worked away from home, with co-workers, performance reviews and my very own cubicle. As working moms often do, however, I wondered what it would be like to stay home, especially when I ran errands on my lunch hour and watched other moms push strollers carrying infants, toddlers and diaper bags.

Like a sorority for stay-at-home mothers, they were chatty, relaxed and presumably in no hurry to get back to the office for a meeting or voicemails. It looked like a pleasant thing to do in the middle of the day.

As our children got older, I continued to fantasize about staying home, particularly on days when I had to leave work early to pick up a kid who wasn’t feeling well, or haul ‘em both to the orthodontist. If only I could stay home and take care of this stuff! Logistically, it had to be easier, right?

At the time, it was also hard to escape the influence of Oprah "I-always-knew-I-was-destined-for-greatness" Winfrey. Especially when she was quoted saying, over and over, "The biggest adventure you can take is to live the life of your dreams."

I wondered if my destiny lacked greatness. Did it? I liked my job, but I wasn't in love with it. What were my dreams, anyway? I'd always liked to write, and I had been published in a few magazines and newspapers. But it was always on the side, as a hobby. Was that my path to greatness? To write full-time? Without the distractions of a real job?

It wasn't as though I was treated like a criminal at work. Rather, I was treated quite well. As a provider of work/life balance programs, my employer at various times let me job-share, work part-time, and full-time with telecommuting privileges. It wasn't like my fellow employees were creepy, either. They were educated, fancy-with-the-spreadsheet types who could speak in front of 25 people and conduct a Power Point presentation at the same time. The structure kept me on track. At work, I worked, and at home, I folded laundry while my husband scrubbed toilets and mowed the lawn.

Nevertheless, when a corporate reorganization eliminated my job a few summers ago, I was ready to fulfill my destiny. Working at home while raising teenagers, here I come!

At first, every day was like a pretty Monet painting. My employers were kind enough to lay me off in the summer, so the sun shone and the birds sang while I made leisurely trips to Target for toothpaste, toilet paper and liquid laundry detergent. Finally, I could drive our kids to summer activities without slinking out of the office early, hoping no one would notice. When the kids returned to school, I didn’t shower while others were still sleeping, and some days, I worked out to Regis and Kelly just because I felt like it.

Take that, old, semi-traditional work schedule.

Eventually, I started to write. And I got published: here, there, a little bit everywhere. But the field of freelance writing is so vast it took me a long time to wrap my brain around all the possibilities. Plus, I am a slow writer. It was hard to fire off finished pieces without a lot of thought. I wanted to be thorough! Accurate! Reliable! Trustworthy!

Then entire days flew by without feeling like I accomplished anything, especially when the laundry buzzer went off every two seconds while I wasted time on Facebook. Sometimes I had just as much trouble getting dinner on the table as I did when I was working, and our kids seemed to think all I did was pet the dog.

That’s okay, though – I’ve given up on greatness. I’ll never rocket-ship to the top. For me, life has been best lived in phases where priorities competed for my attention like glittery costumes on Dancing with the Stars. Like they should, I suppose. Maybe a good life is the sum of all that. Though I didn’t always know it, the best phase, perhaps, was the one I was in.

Tell me your experience.

My friend, Deb, has a blog, and other news

I had big hair for five minutes in the '80s.

My friend, Deb, is a fellow writing group groupie. We've been meeting in various configurations of 6 - 7 people for six years, if memory serves. Maybe it's time I send her flowers.

Anyway.

Deb is a really good writer. She's funny. She can be light but also thoughtful.

We've both had essays published in a couple area magazines. But alas, essays are not in great demand these days so when she brings her terrific pieces to the group, I tell her, start a blog.

I figure she can at least post some of her work there. Have a public record of her writing abilities. Display initiative. Get some feedback from readers. Etc.

The problem with blogging, or the thought of blogging, is that bloggers/writers (or maybe it was just me) think or hope or dream or fantasize that blogging is a short-cut to fame or success or at least getting noticed.

However, success in writing seems to come through a lot of little steps that over time add up to something that can be summed up as real progress.

And yet, there's always another mountain to climb filled with a million little steps.

Here's my advice to Deb or anyone who's aching for success in a creative endeavor: don't fixate on the mountain. Instead, take the journey one step at a time, said the wise old woman, Pam. I feel a Jordin Sparks song coming on.

All that to say, check out Deb's blog, What (a) Debbie Does.

Wait! I'm not done!

I was going to get out and see the The Sapphires this afternoon, by myself. It's a based-on-a-true-story movie about four Aboriginal girls who tour Vietnam as a Motown-inspired girl group back in the late '60s. But alas I think my to-do list is too long today, plus I have to get to Target to buy sensitivity toothpaste for me, and a special kind of dental floss, one that doesn't require two hands, for my son who had wrist surgery last Thursday. I know, I know, you envy my lifestyle as a woman whose primary focus today is dental floss and toothpaste.

If you are looking for a funny book and don't mind bathroom humor, I really enjoyed Sarah Silverman's memoir, The Bedwetter: Stories of Courage, Redemption and Pee. However, if you are an uncommonly good and virtuous person, I would not recommend you rush out and buy her book. She indulges in so-called dirty humor, but in such a silly way I think she's funny.

The National Geographic channel is doing a three-night, six-part documentary series on the '80s. I watched one hour of it last night, and taped the other hour. It's quite well done. I hated the '80s when I was in them; they were the complete opposite of the '70s, that decade when I dreamed of becoming a social worker who helped inner city kids learn how to read. But watching one hour of it last night, I have to admit I was feeling a bit nostalgic. Was it because technology hadn't yet splintered our attention in a billion and one different ways?

What are your thoughts on the '80s? Or anything else? Anything! I'm listening!

Aging gracefully...if you insist

The ultimate in aging gracefully

I was invited to join a group of women bloggers who created a new website called Generation Fabulous - The Voice of Midlife.

Um, I guess that means I am at that part of life called 'midlife.'

Well. I knew that. It was kind of, sort of a secret I was keeping to myself.

I mean, inside I am still a 13-year-old girl. Really. Just a little less insecure.

Anyway.

Part of group membership is going along with the crowd - something I'm terrible at, said Pam, ending a sentence with a preposition. However, they are doing this thing called a Blog Hop and all the mid-life bloggers are blogging on the topic of Aging Gracefully. Today.

I wasn't going to do it - I am not aging! Do you hear me?? I am still a 13-year-old girl!!

But I've already read a few of the posts and I have to say they are all pretty thoughtful and so I think I will participate.

Of course, I have to place a "badge" on this post - a badge that will take readers right over to the new Gen Fab website. If I can figure out how to do that gracefully, I'll have really accomplished something today.

So what does aging gracefully mean to me?

Hmm.

If it means getting all a' twitter (excited) about the fresh produce, groceries and Starbucks that were all very, very recently added to the Target that I go to all the time, then I am okay with aging gracefully. However, my college-aged daughter is also a Target fanatic and I'm sure when she comes home will thrill to the purchasing of a Frappicino before waltzing down the shaving cream, Cetaphil and Suave body wash aisles. So maybe that's a universal experience, thrilling to the changes at Target, one not limited to me; desperately trying to express what it means to age gracefully.

Let me think again.

Using my iPad more often than my laptop. Yes, aging gracefully means being open to new technologies. I am finding my iPad frightfully easy to use and so convenient to lug around especially to coffee shops when I need to type up notes or research things - companies, small businesses, people, etc. - for my stellar career as a freelancer. That laptop was so heavy and bulky compared to this little iPad thing that I waltz in with, said Pam, ending a sentence with a preposition again!

What else?

Staying in touch with former co-workers, appreciating the years spent together even though we were all laid off and I was never in love with my job. But saying I wasn't 'in love' with my job sounds whiny and that is not aging gracefully. Because it was a good job with good people.

Accepting that I actually enjoy Dancing with the Stars. There. I said it!

Not taking things personally. Looking at all sides of an argument. Getting along with people. Remembering that struggle is part of life. And giving our loved ones space. Because that's much healthier than freaking out.

On to the badge. Can she do it?

She can!

Look over to the right, scroll down a bit. Okay, a lot.

Still, quite the accomplishment. Did I age gracefully today?

Pam goes to the movies

In my quest to see all of the Oscar-nominated movies from 2012, I saw four. At the movies. Before the awards. Quite an accomplishment.

In the last two weeks, I also watched a couple of 2012 movies On Demand that weren't nominated.

Here are my reviews.

1. Pitch Perfect - I finally got to see what all the fuss was about over Anna Kendrick, who starred with George Clooney in Up in the Air, a movie about corporate downsizing I did not see. Though I should have because I am intimately familiar with corporate downsizings. Anyway. Pitch Perfect is a perfectly delightful film about a college a capella group filled with misfits, trying to win a national competition. It's been described as Glee for the college-aged set. While I no longer watch Glee, I really enjoyed the singing, the acting, the story and Anna Kendrick, who stars as a rather dark but sunny (yes, you can be both) college freshman who hoped to pursue a career as one of those DJs who puts beats together using a laptop and some software program that lets you do that. So people can dance. Or drop ecstasy. Or whatever. Anyway. They need to make more movies like this.

2. The Perks of Being a Wallflower - Starring Emma Watson from all those Harry Potter movies and other young actors I had no idea existed, this, too, is a very good movie! I really liked it and kept thinking about it days after. It's about a high school freshman with mental stability issues and how a group of misfits (okay, there's the key, I like movies about misfits) from the senior class take him under their wing. It reminded me of 80's classic The Breakfast Club but more thoughtful and with a lot less swearing.

3. Argo - I saw this in the theater last fall - or was it winter? - with my husband. He really liked it, so I really liked it! Not that I have to like what he likes but I like when he likes a movie because he doesn't often like movies the way that I like movies so when we both like a movie I like that movie even more! It had that sort of, C'mon, c'mon, get out of there, the bad guys are coming! excitement to it. Plus the true story of the Iran hostage crisis took place during my sophomore year of college (I was a child genius who enrolled when I was five) and I got to relive the music and the clothing from that era. And let us not forget it won the Oscar for best picture.

4. The Impossible - Saw this one alone in the theater where there was only one other audience member. Stars Naomi Watts who was also Oscar-nominated for her role. It's about the Christmas-time tsunami in Thailand back in 2005 or 2006. (I can't remember which year.) A family of five gets separated after the tsunami hits - will they survive? Find each other? Depending on your tendency to see life as a glass half full or half empty, it could depress you or uplift. Either way, I thought it was very well done.

5. Lincoln - Alright, we get it, it's a very important movie. About the 13th amendment to abolish slavery. And Daniel Day-Lewis was remarkable as Lincoln. Sally Field, too, as Mary Todd Lincoln. And Tommy Lee Jones, oh, I love thee even when you don't crack a smile at the Golden Globes over a very funny joke that coulda' used a laugh from a good ol' sport like you. Oh, right, you had the flu. Fine excuse! The polite side of me said this was all very well done - but the side of me that likes to get pulled along by c'mon, get outta there, the bad guys are coming! was kind of bored.

6. Silver Linings Playbook - Someone on my Facebook page said they thought this movie was all over the place. A mess. But I really liked it. My husband kind of liked it but not as much as me. Interesting movie about mental illness starring Bradley Cooper (who starred in the TV show Alias with Jennifer Garner - who knew he was movie star material back then?) and Jennifer Lawrence (star of The Hunger Games, another movie I thought was terrific). Both won Oscars for their roles as fragile figures recovering from mental instability and breakdowns of sorts. (There's another theme I must like - see movie #2.) It had humor, an unusual story, great acting, unpredictability - I really liked it. But was it my favorite movie ever? No. I'd probably have to go with The Godfather for that. Or The Wizard of Oz. Wait. Amadeus. I LOVED Amadeus. Then there was the movie version of Hair.

What good movies have you seen, like, ever?