Lies, Damn Lies: Why "The Bachelorette" Makes Me Mad, Not Sad

Every season "The Bachelorette" seems like it goes on waaaaaay longer than it should. With this year's "Bachelorette", Kaitlyn, the producers must be beside themselves with glee. She's the whole package: weirdly-spelled first name, bobble-head body, baby talk voice with an old-man belly laugh, overly-large teeth, she can cry with the snap of a finger, she likes to be "goofy", oh, and she likes sex. Finally, they can put to bed the delicate metaphors like "fantasy suite" and "overnights" (you know, like they're a bunch of 12 year old girls having a sleepover, complete with popcorn and Taylor Swift on the radio), and all of the other linguistic gymnastics that the writers' room agonized over for lo these many years in order to avoid directly addressing the simple chemistry when hordes of telegenic young singles combine in dreamy exotic locations supplied with liquor, hot tubs, and cameras. But this "Bachelorette" is a monster of reality TV's own making. The reality TV universe has finally turned the corner and produced its own spawn!!

Cue the scary music and the clap of thunder!

That's right, Dr. Frankenstein has been hard at work because Kaitlyn isn't real. Sure, she looks like she's made of flesh, blood and bone, but her brain was swapped out long ago for a processing system that runs on bottle caps and lip gloss. Think about it - is she really such a cool girl who is down for anything? Who's idea of a great first date involves sloppy burgers and beer in a bottle? She came to the show's producers fully-formed. She'd probably already sketched out some notes as to who her character "Kaitlyn" would be - what motivates her, what angers her, who her enemies are and what the arc of her storyline would be. I wouldn't be surprised if she was running lines with her girlfriends every night after she got home from her day job in the weeks leading up to the submission of her audition tape. 

And it's not just "Kaitlyn" that's not real, just take a look at the bachelors. There's The Soulful One, The Moody One, The One Who Picks a Fight Before the Rose Ceremony, The One Who Rats Out The One Who is a Liar Who is Then Sent Home, The One Who Fools The Bachelorette But Not America - all of whom know how to cause the dreaded "drama" and all of whom think that every romantic cliche thrown up to them as a date is "amazing" as they "follow their heart" on this "journey" to, you know, "find love" and, when not handed a rose, spend their limo drive into the sunset wondering how they'll "process what's just happened." ENOUGH!! 

Look, there was a time when reality TV was authentic. They called them documentaries and they were unflinching and real. The first season of MTV's "Real World" reads more like a documentary in that it makes you deeply uncomfortable because it's so real with all of the awkwardness and that feeling when you're stuck on a full flight with a couple who are having the worst argument of their marriage, like way worse than Elaine Benes and David Putty on that episode of "Seinfeld" and minus the comedic genius of Larry David. 

But now reality TV is stocked with heroes and villains who arrive fully-formed and aren't created by post-production slight of hand in the editing suite. Slowly, we, the general public, have become characters in our own reality shows. Creation of the alter ego usually begins with creating your first social media account. The profile questions - favorite films, favorite music, hobbies/interests - are all opportunities to create yourself, or recreate yourself. Some of us bring these cyber ids off of the screen and into the four dimensional world and then boomerang back to the screen - at least that's what I think Instagram is for, right? I mean if you've described yourself as a foodie then eating at a fancy restaurant having a great meal is your THANG, but it doesn't really count until you take a photo of the meal at the fancy restaurant, Instagram it out to your followers, and then tag the heck out of it so that the fancy restaurant knows that you're eating there and loving it because you're a foodie, that's what you do! We've become wedded to the weird internal storyline that appears to be guiding our lives, and we have become insistent on maintaining a narrative consistency with the characters we've created. We've made existence boring and predictable and that makes me mad - not disappointed, not sad, not angry, just MAD. 

So, let's mix it up a little bit. Stop trying to be "The [fill in the blank]" and just BE. 

Make It Stop: When Did TV Become So Demanding?

When I was growing up, Friday nights meant Mom, Grandma, my sister and I sitting in the basement with the television tuned to CBS and the strains of the "The Dukes of Hazzard" theme music emanating from the console color TV's mono speakers. After the theme song came the commercial break, during which snacks were retrieved from the kitchen, conversations were had among us family members, and an occasional phone call from friends or extended family was taken. By the time the citizens of Hazzard had survived whatever misadventure the writers had managed to throw at them in the span of an hour, the closing credits would roll and another commercial break, during which we made bathroom runs, and then the opening credits and theme song of the next show would begin. It was a kindlier, gentler time for lovers of TV. 

Nowadays, though, TV has become a fully immersive process, with theme songs scrapped for cold opens that thrust the viewer immediately into the action, and closing credits that bleed seamlessly into the next show, leaving a viewer barely able to digest whatever dramatic action just occurred. And don't get me started on what happens within the show with non-linear narratives that circle and bend so much that they've yielded a new phrase: "twisty." 

Screenwriter Shonda Rhimes - the talented mind behind "Grey's Anatomy", "Private Practice", "Scandal" and "How to Get Away with Murder" - is the Queen of Twisty, with plotlines that send a viewer to the edge of their seats in the opening seconds of a show and then grab you by the collar, pulling you onto your feet and up onto your tippy-toes before hurling you against a wall and kicking you in the gut after you've dropped to the floor. That's "twisty". "Twisty" could also be used to describe the level of physical gore that Ms. Rhimes manages to pump into, or, maybe more accurately, out of, her characters. So violent is the imagery that she puts onto the television screen that I'm forced to look away frequently with the mute button on until my husband yells "all clear"! Television has literally become all-consuming with a "don't-look-away-or-you'll-miss-it" attitude that's becoming a turn-off. I was three-episodes into "How to Get Away with Murder" before I realized what the hell was going on and by the end of the season I was glad for the summer hiatus.

And if the plotlines don't exhaust you, trying to stay caught up on your favorite shows on Hulu, OnDemand, and TiVo will. If you have any sort of a life and can't watch your favorite show during its first run, then you're doomed to schedule an alternate time to watch your shows. A work change forced me to watch an entire season of a show via OnDemand. I felt like I was handed a homework assignment. My adjusted viewing schedule also meant that I had to avoid all social media, since people love sharing plotline reveals as if they had some juicy gossip! Another thing I avoid is Netflix (sorry, not sorry) and the binge-watching trap. The idea of being tethered to my TV for a day and a night because I have to watch the entirety of a season's episodes of  "House of Cards" is astounding to me, especially when there's not a blizzard or I'm not recovering from a really awful flu that forces me onto my sofa for a 48-hour period.

Do we need this generation's version of former First Lady Nancy Reagan telling us to "just say no" to being consumed by television? Does current First Lady Michelle Obama have to personally come into our living rooms to say, "let's move", in order for us to step away from the flatscreen? I don't know what the answer is, but I know that the producers and writers and directors of TV aren't going to solve this problem, especially when they created the problem. They took the passive TV viewers of past generations and made them into active participants generating their own content based on the shows we watch. We tweet, we Facebook, we Instagram our way through these shows - sharing our reactions with the world, or just that little corner of our world where other fans of this particular show join in virtual community with each other. Who has time for snacks or the bathroom when there's breaking news about a character who was killed/not killed/kidnapped that has to be shared with your social media followers? 

You know, I'm starting to think that maybe TV hasn't become more demanding - maybe we've become more demanding and TV is just trying to catch up with us! Maybe we need to create a community for ourselves that stretches beyond our lonely couches and out into the world. Maybe we need television to consume us because we no longer allow ourselves to be consumed by things that really matter anymore. I mean I can always count on Shondaland to serve up twists and turns every Thursday night, but can I deliver the same high when I'm the screenwriter of my own life? 

It's Not You, It's Me - No, It IS You: My Break-Up with Reality TV

For those of you haters who said, from the beginning, that it wouldn't last, well all I can say is it lasted longer than you thought it would. But, after years of frenemies, hair weaves, paternity tests, cat fights, trash-talking, Christian Louboutin knock-offs (c'mon, ladies, you think that can of red spray paint does the trick!!), bling, and more bling, it's time to show you the door. That's right, reality TV and I are breaking up!!

It's been a long time coming, and the first question you might ask is why now, after more than a decade spent watching the splendid tackiness of surgically-enhanced people as they traverse the hardships of fake friendships and made-for-TV personal crises for viewers like me.  But, just like I outgrew my Barbies before I hit puberty, I've outgrown these real-life Barbies. Now, this isn't to say that I'm a TV snob or something, but I prefer my soap operas scripted and starring SAG-card carrying actors playing fictional characters who do some really messed up stuff! 

But, I haven't answered the question of why now? Well, it was a clustering of several things, not the least of which was watching Theresa and Joe Giudice of Bravo's "Real Housewives" franchise getting hauled into court stemming from alleged fraud that was a direct result of their lavish spending in support of their reality TV lifestyle. And this wasn't the first time one of the Real Housewives cast members had been popped for overspending in the name of keeping up appearances. I mean, how many mobile hair and makeup teams do you reckon there are in Atlanta, GA?? And seriously, do you ALL need a personal assistant to help you run your empires??

Of course, not all of these concierge-style services are paid for by the Housewives, in fact they receive so much promotional product that it's a wonder how they seem always to be in hot financial water!   

Now, I know it sounds like I'm picking just on the Housewives, which is only fair since they are the best role models for this bad behavior. But the Housewives DNA has established itself far beyond the confines of Bravo, so that now, there is no safe space, not even the History Channel!! 

Look, this is hard for me. We've had some good times, some great times, but there is no rose for you tonight, reality TV:( So pack your knives and go home. Are you still not getting what I'm saying? OK, let me speak to in your language, OK? 

Reality TV, I'm not disrespecting you, but you are no longer "Gone With the Wind" fabulous! No, I'm not straight up tripping, but at the end of the day, I have to be Team Me. I know we'd all like some closure, if you think that I'm going to come crawling back to you with remote control in hand, well hell to the no!

That sounded harsh, didn't it? I'm sorry. There are so many things that I'll miss about you. The way you make me wait until after the commercial break to find out if NeNe/Theresa/Jill/The Countess hit Kim/Caroline/Alexis/Vicki. The way you play that intense music that builds until I find out whether or not the client liked Chef Roble's craw fish. I"ll miss your Tim Gunn Saves, your Heidi Klum "Auf wiedersehen", your trips to Mood, and your last-minute trip to the Piperlime/Lord & Taylor's/Macy's accessories wall. I'll miss your augmented breasts, your plastic-surgery reveal parties, and your love of clear heels. I'll miss your constant use of rented limos and car services for everything from winery trips to 30-minute drives to dinner parties hosted by other cast members. I'll miss that you call people who are your alleged friends on a show that's supposed to be based in reality "castmates". I'll miss that every cast engagement and pregnancy guarantees a limited-run spin-off where we get to meet more tacky people! But, what I'll especially miss is the 60-minute vacation that my brain got to enjoy each time I tuned in to see the mundane goings-on of people desperate for the attention. If you need me, I'll be reading:)                      

"You're Not as Cute as You Think You Are"

On a recent episode of HBO's series, "The Newsroom," Will McAvoy (played by Jeff Daniels), tells his executive producer/former love interest MacKenzie McHale (played by the squishy-faced actress Emily Mortimer), "You're not as cute as you think you are." It was a simple and yet powerful statement that resonated far beyond the action of that episode. I think we can all relate to people in our everyday lives whose behaviors veer from totally adorbs to really annoying, and so herewith, my list of winners in the first annual "You're Not as Cute as You Think You Are" Awards, and the envelope please:

1. Adorbs, totes, champs - Cutesy-speak, defined as that so clever shortening of words and phrases, where "totally adorable" becomes "totes adorbs" and "crazy" becomes "cray cray" is all the rage, but how did this virus spread? Some blame those texting 13-year-olds of yore who, with their ancient Sidekicks, were looking for keyboard shortcuts. And then came Twitter with its 140-characters and soon the virus had a new host. It then made the leap to prime time television, aided by the now-defunct ABC sitcom "Happy Endings", and the character Penny Hartz. Once established on one of the Big Three networks, it then blazed through the reality TV backwoods, spawning new additions like "glamping" (glamorous camping), in which one hikes in heels and drinks plenty of bubbly (or "champs", you know, as in champagne). 
2. Zooey Deschanel, Katherine Heigl, Mindy Kaling, Chloe Sevigny, That Guy from Season 12 of "Project Runway" who's obsessed with unicorns, Rae Dawn Chong (how dare you go after Oprah...OPRAH??!!), Leslie Mann, The Entire Cast of "Girls", Jane Levy from "Suburgatory", Andy Sandberg, Meg Ryan in "When Harry Met Sally" (you were quite insufferable!), Ann Hathaway
3. Anyone over the age of 21 wearing a t-shirt that depicts a cartoon character, television show or commercial brand from the 1960s, 1970s, or 1980s, including, but not limited to, the Kool-Aid Man, School House Rock, Fat Albert, Captain Crunch, Strawberry Shortcake, Thunder Cats. 
4. Anyone over the age of 18 wearing their hair in 2 braids (see Cindy Brady)
5. Overuse of the word "ironic" as a means of establishing intellectual superiority when partaking of the popular. For example, "I'm ironically watching every episode of Duck Dynasty/Here Comes Honey Boo Boo/Double Divas/The Golden Girls" or "I'm ironically having my 30th birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese."
6. Oral hashtagging - "He's soooo cute #MyFutureExBoyfriend"
7. Knit caps when temperatures are above 40-degrees Fahrenheit
8. Ghostwriting blogs for your dog, cat, hamster
9. Theme parties which require guests to dress as characters from TV shows ("Mad Men", "Golden Girls"), movies ("Mildred Pierce", "The Wiz"), or referencing cartoon action figures (latex, anyone??)
10. Declaring (proudly) your multiple food allergies at the coffee shop/grocery store/restaurant/food festival/farmers market
11. Making every statement sound like a question - "I have a skinny decaf latte?" 

A Nation of Hoarders

As I left my house Saturday morning, I noticed dozens of people picking through mountains of stuff assembled on various tables scattered along a sidewalk. It was my neighborhood's annual yard sale, and, judging by the large number of cars and trucks parked on either side of the street, this year's was a success. I've never had the urge to stop by yard sales, which is a pity as this was the third or fourth yard sale I'd passed this week. At one yard sale, we saw a woman practically skipping down a suburban Virginia street with a colossal 60-roll package of toilet tissue. You would have thought she'd just bought a Tom Ford-era Gucci dress in her size for a nickel!!

Maybe it's the recession that's fueling the yard sale craze. With consumer credit in a curious place, that buyer's rush has to be satisfied some way, so why not with a slightly used $3 denim jacket from Old Navy that you picked up from a stranger in their driveway?? But, really, this urge to have and to hold can become dangerous and obsessive. The Target stores have reported that their launch of a mid-priced line of housewares and apparel by Italian fashion house Missoni has resulted in a rash of buyers snapping up the items in bulk, cleaning out entire store inventories, and then reselling these items with a stiff mark-up on online auction sites like eBay. This takes the house-flipping concept to a new low!!

And what about couponing sites like Groupon?? That's great that you can get parachuting lessons for $15 instead of $115, and a $20 bag of groceries for $10 from your favorite whole foods store, and dinner for two for $30, but does anyone ever ask themselves, "do I really need this?" Why are we so consumed with consuming?

I guess, then, it's little wonder why the reality show, "Hoarders" has become so popular. While the cameras roll, we see living rooms piled waist-high with newspapers, kitchens overwhelmed by dirty pots and pans, whole bedrooms packed to the gills with clothing and trash, and, in the midst of it all, a person and their story of loss and loneliness. They stuff more and more and more things into their homes in an attempt to fill the emotional void. Some of them confront this crisis and clean up their act, but some will not, either way, it doesn't matter because the American TV-viewing public loves "Hoarders." Maybe it's good, old-fashioned schadenfreude that makes the show's fans tune in, but I think it's a lurking feeling that we have more in common with the hoarders than we're comfortable admitting. We want it, and we want it NOW, and we want it ALL!

You'd think we'd learned our lessons about the dangers of unfettered appetites, what with the now-global economic crisis, but I guess not. We still want and we still buy, only now, instead of plunking down our credit card at a pricey department store, we throw down cash for another's trash and claim it as treasure, and we don't even use it! How sad is that?? Hoarders take no pleasure in all that they've accumulated. They feel compulsion but not joy. Maybe joy is something that we all could use - real joy at our connections to each other instead of to another thing. I'm just saying:)

Oprah Ending - Ending Oprah

It's the end of the world - well, sort of. This week, Oprah ends her daytime reign. She's hanging up her microphone and putting her set in mothballs, and the whole world, it seems, is in a tizzy. Her celebrity BFFs seem to be taking it the hardest of all. Watching their tearful two-part tribute to Oprah, a cavalcade of famous people, including Tyler Perry, and First Friend Gayle King gushed over Oprah, praising her success and her generosity of spirit.

And it's only fair that they, the celebrities, should make such a fuss over the woman who, in many cases, saved or revived their careers. It was Oprah who helped to make these often vapid, one-dimensional characters into fleshed out human beings who are just like you and me - save for the ridiculous amounts of money and fame. She was their Mother-Confessor who granted forgiveness in her Harpo Studios confessional.  When Julia Roberts needed to clear the air over her failed marriage(s) and the sordid romantic triangle that became the basis for her current wedded bliss, it was to Oprah she went. When TV mom Meredith Baxter needed to tell her story of marital abuse, it was to the loving arms of Oprah that she flew. When Tom Cruise wanted to let the world know that he wasn't crazy and was, in fact, just a regular guy, head-over-heels in love with little Katie Holmes, Oprah's was the only couch worthy of his now infamous sofa jump.

With Leno and Letterman and Kimmel and Conan on the air, you'd think that Oprah would be rendered unnecessary, but you'd be wrong. Oprah created her own little universe, complete with its own jewel-toned palette of smartly-dressed, enthusiastic audience members who provided a backdrop for the spinning of celebrity tales of hurting and healing. To be a celebrity guest on Oprah meant a rigorous course in Oprah-ese, a language built on new-age, therapeutic discourse where people "named their truth," and had frequent "a-ha moments".

Now, that's not to say that your celebrity appearance was strictly about your own personal "journey" - no, there was always room for marketing, like those times when the entire casts of the latest Tyler Perry movie would take the stage.

I know, it may seem as if I'm not sad about her departure, and, in fact, I'm not. But it's not due to personal animus - it's just time. I don't need Oprah to tell me how much celebrities are just like me and you because, guess what, they're not. They live in a highly-competitive environment of constant scrutiny and little privacy, all fearing that "the next big thing" will end their careers.  Where newspapers and blog sites have huge, blaring headlines about their 10-pound weight gain or their thinning hair. That Oprah, herself, is one of these celebrities isn't lost on me. Her interviews with these celebrities have seemed more like highly choreographed conversations between friends, and so there's no danger, really. And maybe that's why Oprah's ending it. Maybe, she had her own Oprah "a-ha moment" and realized that if you can get a President elected, you don't need to sit down with yet another celebrity to hawk their tell-all book...I'm just saying:)

Passages: Goodbye, "All My Children"

This week, ABC made major headlines with the announcement of the cancellation of 2 of its longest running daytime soaps - "All My Children" and "One Life to Live". ABC's not the first of the networks to shed its daytime line-up of the decades-old soap opera. In the past few years, NBC has taken the knife to its daytime dramatic series, and CBS has cancelled both "Guiding Light" and "As the World Turns." Now, instead of "love in the afternoon", daytime viewers can choose from roundtable current events gab-fests fronted by minor celebrities, pseudo-health information talk shows where one can see moles removed (and, yes, that DID happen), or cooking shows. Well, as a lover of the daytime soap opera I say ENOUGH!!

As my tone might suggest, I am a longtime fan of the soap opera, having spent my childhood watching the antics of Kay Chancellor and Alan Spaulding (from CBS' "Young and the Restless" and "Guiding Light" respectively) with my Grandmother. Grandma would always talk about her "shows", as she called them, and every week day, from 12:30pm until 4:00pm, the TV in the family room belonged to Grandma. During her "shows", she didn't answer the telephone, and you dared not speak to her. She'd knit or crochet during her shows, and over the years, her output of hats, scarves, and blankets was phenomenal, a testament to her many hours spent watching the misadventures of the citizens of the mythical towns of Genoa City, Oakdale, and Springfield.

By the time I got to college, my life revolved around the real-world drama of campus life, and I didn't have time for the make-believe world of soap operas. But it would be my Grandma who would bring me back to soap operas. Grandma was sick and not getting better. When she ultimately succumbed, it was the soap operas that started to bring me out of my haze of grief. I remembered our happy memories, watching our "shows", and I'd smile and I'd laugh.

I know that the clock is ticking on my "shows", and that someday soon, CBS will lower the boom on its last two soaps. So for now, I'll revel in the implausible story lines, the over-wrought acting, and the seemingly ageless stars who portray these forever broken characters. I'll delight in the baby switches, the evil twin plots, the disembodied announcer's voiceover telling the viewer the name of the new actor now portraying your favorite character. I'll jump for joy over the bed hopping, secret trysts, and convoluted family trees. You see, theirs is a make-believe world, the "Barnum and Bailey world" sung about in old standards, and, as every child knows, it's fun to play make-believe. Never in my childhood did I fear that a baddie like the fictional Victor Newman would cross from the picture tube and into my living room in "The Purple Rose of Cairo" fashion. But, I tell you this, I'm more fearful of the armies of NeNe's and other wannabes modeling themselves on the badly-behaved stars of reality TV. I'm just saying:)

Putting the "Real" in Reality

With the announcement of the new cast of "Dancing with the Stars" (Wendy Williams - how YOU doin'??) and the introduction of yet another set of plump-lipped, tacky tarts clawing at each other in the "Real Housewives" franchise, it's clear that the Spring 2011 Reality TV season is upon us. And, like the award season that has just ended, capped by last week's Academy Awards, there will be some clear winners and losers in some of the more anticipated contests - will Ne Ne reign down blows on Star Jones in "Celebrity Apprentice?" And which of the returning baddies will be the last one standing on Survivor: Redemption Island?" But there's one reality show that tops them all and it stars Charlie Sheen, his Goddesses, his ex-wife, and his two adorable sons.

Perhaps you've seen it - on "Extra", or "Entertainment Tonight", or E!News or "The Today Show", ad nauseum and ad infinitum! The Charlie Sheen show is the hottest ticket in town, it seems, and everyone in the media has a finger in this poison pie. From his off-kilter Tweets to his intimate and sprawling 2-part interview with "The Today Show", Sheen has put the "real" back into Reality TV, with the reporters happily joining in for their 15 minutes! The interviews on "The Today Show" were some of the worst, with the reporter treating this like high camp, instead of a person's mental illness on public display. Sheen himself seemed to be in on the joke, too, smirking and grimacing with perfect comedic timing. Every now and again he'd put on the "reasonable man" voice, you know, the one you use in a sitcom when you're about to reveal something serious and weighty, only to be followed by a zinger that sends the studio audience into fits of laughter - and scene!

Only, this isn't a sitcom, where, in the span of 24 minutes, problems will be solved and then the credits roll. A line has been crossed. Hell, I wouldn't be the first to accuse an actor of being delusional, of making a character that he plays a part of his actual identity. And some actors will readily admit that they share lots of qualities with their on-screen alter-egos. Friends of the late Heath Ledger spoke of the extreme emotional demands that he faced when he portrayed the maniacal, murderous Joker in "The Dark Night".  It seemed that the fragile line between real and unreal eroded to a point that it caused distress in the late actor.

So what does that mean for the Sheen Machine? Well, it could mean that he's taken on the persona of the glib, womanizing man he portrays on "Two and a Half Men" in some sort of Vulcan mind-meld. He has, literally, become the character. But some would argue that the character he plays on television is loosely based on the reality of Sheen's own indiscreet past.  So, then, which Charlie Sheen is the REAL Charlie Sheen? Wow, I'm having one of those Absurdist Ionesco moments, again! I'm just saying:)

Do Sisters Have to be Friends?

While I usually love the "Real Housewives" franchise for its botoxed vixens, flaxen weaves, and scandalous feuds, I've been particularly fascinated with this season's Beverly Hills edition because of the relationship between two of the ladies - Kyle and Kim. The two are sisters and their love/hate relationship teeters towards hate more often than not. Kim is the mercurial former child, teen, and young adult film and TV star who harbors deep-seated feelings of resentment towards being the family's meal ticket. And Kyle is the younger sister who feels saddled by her co-dependent older sister. Their interactions with each other are painful to watch. They're sisters, after all, so shouldn't they be expected to "get over" their issues and just be there for each other?

It's not always that easy. While some may have a relationship with their sisters that's reminiscent of that wonderful old show tune, "Sisters", where the two sisters sing of their devotion and care for one another, some of us relate to our sisters more like Jan from "The Brady Bunch" relates to Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!! Some sisters may even take the voyage to Hater-ville, going after each other like Tanya Harding went after Nancy Kerrigan. So what gives?

The simple and ugly truth is that sometimes, sisters don't like each other. Sound harsh? Well, the truth isn't pretty, that's why it's got such an ugly name! We don't choose our siblings. In the workplace that is our family, siblings are the co-workers placed in the office opposite ours, or, heaven forbid, in the same cubicle! And older siblings are even worse, getting all of the perks, including the bigger office, and, when they turn 16, a company car!

So who's to blame? Well, we can always blame our parents, and sometimes, that's actually the case. Mom and Dad can sometimes, unwittingly, create tension between siblings - overly praising the so-called "perfect" sibling, while constantly criticizing the not-so-perfect sibling. But, really, it's just simple chemistry. I hate to refute you, Rodney King, but sometimes, we can't all just get along.

I think it's time to let us off the hook, so here goes:

Just because you're sisters doesn't mean that you have to be each other's intimate other.

Any relationship that has an assumption of intimacy is doomed to failure. If your parents said that because you're sisters you have to get along, then they were wrong. Relationships are constructed of not just shared experiences, but also trust and a concern for another person that is freely given.

So, what if you're raising your daughters right now and you want to make these sisters into friends? Some sisters will naturally bond with each other and be each other's best friend for the rest of their lives. But some will need to have the space to build a relationship on their own terms. As parents, it may not be the ideal that you dreamt about, but it will be authentic.

I'm just saying:)

The Holiday Jam

I'm always a fan of a good holiday special. Christmas in Washington (c'mon, it's Mrs. Nick Cannon, after all), everything on HGTV (I just love watching new ways to decorate Christmas trees), Charlie Brown Christmas - they're all glittering brain candy. And then came the Food Jammers. For those of you not familiar with the Food Jammers, they are a trio of vintage t-shirted, scraggly-haired hip denizens of a cramped loft apartment loaded with odds and ends rescued from city curb sides and junkyards who have a show on the Cooking channel, the latest spawn of America's push-pull relationship with food.

The Food Jammers aren't recipe jockeys, per say. They like to over-complicate the process of food preparation - for instance hollowing out logs in order to make a Holiday Log Train (complete with a track and wheels) for their feast. I mean, hell, you can venture over to Sur la Table and buy serving platters, but, that's a little too clean and corporate for the Food Jammers. And as the garage band track plays in the background, off they go on a quest for the perfect guinea fowl, chestnuts, and squash in order to round out their holiday feast.

If it sounds like I might have a problem with the Food Jammers, well, maybe I do. But here's really what irritates and fascinates me. These 3 dudes represent the ultimate man-child. They look to be in their 30s, driving the streets of Seattle/Portland/San Fran or wherever in their beater car, with each scratch, dent, and ding a badge of honor in their fight NOT to become The Man. The trio are soft-spoken, overly cooperative creatures, whose SAT vocabularies and sophisticated foodie sensibilities would seem at odds with their personal appearance. I suspect that we've all seen this guy, hell, I dated a HIPSTER version 1.0 back in graduate school.

But these heroes of the Mumblecore, ironic wearers of flannel with unrepentant growths of weird or sparse facial hair seem a bit out of step in the current celebrity food universe.

Celebrity chefs seem to have a lot more testosterone.There are the tatted-up, faux-hawked, iron-pumping, potty-mouthed men of Top Chef who will kick your booty if you dare to talk smack about their mise en place or butchering skills. There's Bobby Flay who brings the fight to you in your own kitchen with his Throwdown show. Guy Fieri, with more rings on his fingers than Karl Lagerfeld, and his Susan Powter Stop the Insanity hairdo, looks like he could scrap if he needed to. And you just know that Gordon Ramsay would and could smack up a chef (that's probably why he yells at them all so furiously - the popo can't pop you for mouthing off at somebody).

So are the Food Jammers a rejection of chef as stud? There's certainly something playful, even child-like about them. They seem to want to play - play with their food, with the systems and processes used to prepare their food.

Maybe it's all Jamie Oliver's fault, with his adorable way of saying "mushy peas", his love of a good pint shared with his mates in his wee tiny flat wearing flannel and Chuck Taylors and OH MY GOD!!!! - this is ALL Jamie Oliver's fault!

Or maybe the existence of the Food Jammers represents a shift in how men in the kitchen are beginning to see themselves. Maybe the Food Jammers are making a new path, one that requires less swagger and more curiosity, wonder and awe at how food comes to your table.
Don't get me wrong, I shall still mock them, but, in the spirit of the HIPSTER, I shall do so ironically and wearing a tattered, vintage screen-printed ring-tee. Ah, but I must go now, for their holiday log train has hit a snag - looks like they'll need to scavenge the wheels off of one of their many skateboards so that the holiday log train will keep rolling.

I'm just saying!