How many years have we been together? I know. It’s been a long time. Why are you still here? Oh, that’s right. Because I keep paying my bills. Why am I still here? I’ve often wondered. You’ve pissed me off more times than I can count. But you know that already. Because I’ve told you many, many times, haven’t I?
My television wasn’t working this morning. I sighed, rolled my eyes and braced myself for what I figured was a few days’ worth of customer-service purgatory.
Call #1: Got the customer-service robot on the line, verifying account information, asking me what my problem was, not understanding, asking again. I pressed zero to get a customer-service human being, and the robot kept talking, not understanding and asking me to repeat. Zero. Zero. Zero. Finally she transferred my call. To purgatory.
Call #2: Got the customer-service robot on the line, jumped through the hoops and got to the “fixing the problem” part. But I answered a question incorrectly and couldn’t get her to stop. I didn’t just press zero this time, I held it down. And, poof, there was Ginny’s dad. Like magic.
Ah, Ginny’s dad. He just saved Verizon. Seriously. One guy. He walked me through the steps, sent new signals, had me push buttons, unplug and plug cords. All the while he cracked jokes, gave me a weather report from Dallas and talked about movies, Dora and Diego (and the Spanish-speaking trees) and his 3-year-old daughter.
Best of all? He got my television to work. But the bonus? His rendition of Diego’s Rescue Pack song.
I just finished reading The Street of a Thousand Blossoms by Gail Tsukiyama. I fell in love with this story and everyone in it. Thank you, Gail, for an amazing reading experience.
Ask your typical American dad what size shoes his children wear, and you will likely draw a blank stare. He has no idea. Guess who makes sure the kids’ toes aren’t poking through their sneakers?
OK, Typical American Dads: Do you know what size shoes your children wear?
(If you do, you’re one up on me. I have to dig around in the closet and look at the shoes to find out what size my children wear.)
Here’s another question: Are you a lot like children?
And while I recognize that gender stereotypes are risky, in my experience husbands are a lot like children. They will get away with whatever they can get away with. When you put your foot down and make it clear that you won’t take no for an answer, somehow the kids’ rooms get cleaned, the groceries bought, the laundry folded. It really does work, I promise.
So why aren’t women demanding something closer to parity? While many are resigned to seething in silence, the stakes are far higher than they seem to realize. When wives permit their husbands to shirk a fair share of the homemaking and parenting, not only do they themselves suffer, but chances are good that they’re also sentencing their children to a similar fate. When you have kids, everything you do teaches them how to live their own lives when they grow up. Unfortunately, all too many women are still teaching their children that “woman is the nigger of the world,” as John Lennon and Yoko Ono put it so memorably in a song lyric years ago. And what too many fathers teach their sons and daughters is that men can get away with dumping the scut work on their wives, and that women will grit their teeth and put up with it.
Leslie Bennetts should activate the Photon Accelerator Annihilation Beam on the Continuum Transfunctioner, save the universe and deliver Breast Enhancement Necklaces to the world.
When she writes about Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton, D-N.Y., and Katie Couric, for whom things — according to Bennetts — have gone wrong, they’re victims. Well-paid, well-heeled victims of the patriarchy that calls for Couric to display her “denuded gams” for her $15 million annual paycheck.
Bennetts says male pundits gleefully deconstruct the “twin debacles” of Clinton and Couric’s “front-page flame-outs,” and she knows exactly who’s at fault.
But there’s plenty of blame to go around, much of which belongs to the male advisors whose catastrophic advice helped steer both women to defeat.
Dude. Because prominent women are, like, totally incapable of making their own decisions.
Bennetts says Hillary Clinton’s presidential bid is a failure.
She will kick your ass. Or, as the Post would have you believe, she will shoot off your face, Ã la Susan Sarandon‘s Louise Sawyer. Yeah, the Post bobble-headed (yeah, that’s a verb … shut up) Clinton and Katie Couric on a Thelma & Louise publicity photo.
But who knows? Maybe Clinton will step down tomorrow, and I’ll eat my words.
Bennetts says Couric is “one of the toughest interviewers in television.”
At CBS, Couric was the $60 million talent, but the suits who run the network were the geniuses who decided that one of the toughest interviewers in television should be reduced to a nauseating female caricature whose main contribution to her new role was girlish fatuousness, despite the excruciatingly obvious fact that the primary job requirement was gravitas.
Dude. Did you see this interview with Clinton — the one where she asked, “Someone told me your nickname in school was Miss Frigidaire. Is that true?” Yeah. Whew! Tough as nails.
Bennetts says Couric was girly and leggy at the behest of the CBS guys writing her paycheck.
Dude. Because she was never, ever girly or leggy before joining CBS.
Bennetts talks about Manolo Blahnik shoes, an essential element of the Victim Uniform of American Female Failure.
Dude. Does a celebrity writer get a pair of Manolo Blahniks in the mail every time she mentions them?
When the ousted Dan Rather complained that his former broadcast had been “dumbed down and tarted up,” he wasn’t wrong, but nobody ever instructed him to insert cutesy comments about his kids between devastating news segments on the Iraq War, let alone to flash his shapely legs and a titillating glimpse of thigh for the cameras. America remains blessedly unfamiliar with the sight of Rather’s hairy pins — one shudders to think what they’d look like in Manolo Blahniks — but Couric’s denuded gams were accorded such prominence that the male honchos masterminding her show seemed to believe that sexy legs in stilettoes were all that viewers cared about.
Dude. Victims. Or … maybe they have better male advisers, eh?
And if blaming the patriarchy doesn’t work, Bennetts pulls out the “who’s the worst victim” card.
Lest anyone forget the proper role of women, there were helpful reminders from morons like the heckler shouting “Iron my shirts!” during a Clinton campaign appearance. No white males have yet been recorded yelling “Shine my shoes!” at an Obama event, but of course racism is offensive, whereas we’re supposed to laugh off even the most virulent sexism.
Dude. Because that’s how to eradicate sexism — by saying it’s worse than the racism a black presidential candidate (and an entire population of Americans) deals with every day. Because, you know, sexism can’t stand as an issue on its own. It has to climb on the back of racism to be seen and heard.
With friends like these, famous women scarcely need enemies. But there are more than enough of both to get the job done. And so the glass ceiling cracks a couple more well-coiffed heads, as effortlessly as if they were eggs.
Dude. With “journalists” like Bennetts, putting “prominent” women like Clinton and Couric in the “victim” sandbox, who needs a reason to get out of bed up in the morning? Quick. Someone get me a cosmopolitan and some pills. It’s women’s own fault. Because, as Bennetts said in her book, American women today have the most choices of women at any time in the history of the world. According to this article? Here are those choices.
1) Be stupid.
2) Be a victim.
So, Dude. Click your ruby-red high heels together and make a choice. If you pick the wrong one? Blame your male adviser.
Remember how I said the Los Lonely Boys were coming to town? They were here Saturday night. We were late. (Not my fault. I hate to be late.) When we got there, though, we had some of the best seats in the house.
My only complaint? The show was too short! Just wish they would have played for a few more hours. I could have stayed all night.
1) Why can’t viewers just call in and vote to end the war?
2) Oh, wait. Major Sponsor Exxon Mobil wouldn’t be thrilled. It also wouldn’t be able to “give back” so generously if not for the googillions it’s made on the war. Maybe that’s where Ben Stiller got the term — from checking EM’s financials.
3) By sponsoring images of African and American babies, it can say, “War? What war? I don’t know nothin’ about no war.”
9) Toothless grandmothers and dilapidated shacks juxtaposed with painted, airbrushed celebs, who packed their camera crews and left. Because they could.
10) Those painful fake smiles on the Appalachian children’s faces.
11) The politician who appeared on American Idol? British Prime Minister Gordon Brown.
So I did a meme the other day. I mentioned a Johnson who was president. Why? I thought it would be a good segue into the “I come from a long line of Johnsons” bit. I also mentioned the only Johnna I’ve ever known, and I haven’t even said her name in, oh, almost 30 years. (Dang. Where is that yearbook?)
Then I ran across this article in Newsweek, My Turn: Don’t Just Call Me Jane, written by — a woman named Johnna, who writes about her unique name. (This other Johnna read the article and blogged about it.) While several people named Johnna responded in the comments, it’s still a fairly uncommon name.
The next day, my newspaper ran a full-page article about not just any ol’ Johnson but Lyndon Baines Johnson, called This is LBJ Country, with a Johnson City dateline.
That same day? We went to look at a house for sale on Johnston Road. (No, no. Nothing serious. Just looking.)
Still no photos, so here’s a lovely video for your viewing and listening pleasure. It’s the song that plays in my head whenever someone tells me they have “walking pneumonia.”
According to The Wall Street Journal today, the longer you stay well, the more it hurts companies’ bottom line. Shame on you.
Kimberly-Clarkexecs apparently had to use their tissues to wipe their own tears after a fourth-quarter drop in sales last year — all because you failed to get sick.
Companies were worried for a while, though, telling shareholders to do their part.
In January, Walgreen Co. CEO Jeffrey Rein told a shareholder gathering that December marked the first time in his 25-year career at the company that cough- and cold-medicine sales fell during the month. If attendees of the meeting needed to cough, he joked, they should leave the room and “go to a movie theater or on a bus” to spread their germs. “We’re really hoping for a very strong flu season,” Mr. Rein told the crowd, according to a transcript of his presentation.
Sweet, huh?
Procter & Gamble Co.said on a conference call in January that quarterly sales of its Vicks cold medicine had been weak. “Unfortunately, people have not been getting sick at a rate that we would all like yet,” P&G CEO A.G. Lafley said on the call, with a chuckle.
Yeah, that is pretty funny.
Hospitals also rode the roller coaster of this flu season. Sicker patients often bring higher reimbursement from insurers or the government, and the flu can cause pneumonia and other complications. “You have a strong flu season, and the ancillary business is very profitable,” David Dill, chief financial officer of LifePoint Hospitals Inc., explained to investors at a conference in January. If an elderly flu sufferer in intensive care needs a tracheotomy, “that turns into higher acuity business for us,” he said. “Or, on the pediatric side, young kids coming into the hospital, that’s a nice margin for us, as well.”
He’s talking about Grandma’s tracheotomy and Baby Jenny’s hospital stay. I bet Grandma would tell you how proud she is of helping that “nice margin,” but, well, she’s got that trach, you know …
“Of course 36,000 die from the flu every year, and more than 200,000 go to the hospital for it. The flu apparently accounts for $16.3 billion in lost earnings every year.”
