The other day as I cruised around Target in a daze looking for wrapping paper, I heard a woman talking to her friend about her little girl's birthday party. If I don't get enough Dora bags, everyone is going to be fucking pissed. I'm so stressed, I could die. It's different bullshit every year and God forbid you forget anything, because all the other mothers are on your ass, talking shit about you. It occurred to me how hard and lonely motherhood must be in a time where you can be ostracized for not throwing a perfect birthday party. All I remember about my childhood birthday parties was that we had a Betty Crocker cake and hauled out the old Pin the Tail on the Donkey game. And it was fine and nobody felt bad about not getting some stupid gift bag filled with worthless commercial crap.
A few days ago, I was watching the very first episode of Sesame Street that came with a disclaimer that it might not be appropriate for pre-schoolers now. I don't know why except that they might learn something that doesn't fit into our politically correct rosy-colored view of the world that we feed children now lest they gain an understanding that no, teamwork doesn't solve all problems (there's one kid stuck with all the work in any group work situation), that we probably can't "do it together!" -- the Middle East anyone? (one of my first political memories was of Sadat being murdered -- leading to the chant "Sadat got shot!"), and that William doesn't want a doll because it will as the book says, "make him a better father," but it will probably indicate that he'll be designing the clothes I'll be buying for the next twenty years. As I watched all the characters I remembered from my childhood, I thought about how much I'd longed to live on Sesame Street which was essentially a benign ghetto populated with good and bad characters that all had quirks and liked to count a lot. Of course, my favorite character was Oscar the Grouch -- no surprise there. He liked to make people upset and lived in trash. What was there not to love? But if I had to be anyone, it would be one of the Anything People. They were socks without anything on them, and when you woke up that morning, you told a man what you wanted to be and he put things on you that let you be that person, even if no one else thought you should.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Uh uh. Sorry, Slimy, time for sleep now. So close your eyes and dream of all the wonderful Trash that's yet to come." Oscar the Grouch
Cocktail Hour
Drinking documentary suggestion: The Devil's Playground
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Sunday!
7 comments:
Great post about teamwork and how one person usually ends up doing the work. So true.
I never actually watched Sesame street growing up. I'm not sure when it started but maybe I'm too old.
What they didn't have the Three Stooges in Mineral Wells? You know me "fuck all that politically correct bullshit", especially when it comes from Texas by way of Connecticut to the White House.
Charles may have been too old to have watched Sesame Street but my first political memory is of the death of Winston Churchill, then Kennedy and, then Golda Meir now it's too damn many (and hard) to try to remember them all.
You know if you go to Target for wrapping paper I want a gift, ever hear of the dollar store, you lovely generous Sesame Street trained individual you.
What's a birthday party?
Tyree Guyton loves trash, he may have been the first true life Oscar (but not a grouch).
Team work sucks I can work better by myself, well after I became impotent that is.
Hey have a great fucking Sunday Michelle.
nyuk nyuk nyuk
Peace
mark
It is so very true. Teamwork is a nice dream... but that's all it is.
A good laugh. But sad, I must say.
Hope everything is going well. Glad to hear from you every now and then.
How much time passed between today's picture and the first one from yesterday? Looks like the same "set". Even the cover on the bed looks identical.
Nope, the Lions can't get in the playoffs with Ford on top. Go Cowboys!
I too want to be an anything people. What a concept. That made my morning.
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