The Winter of Our Discontent

Have you ever had that feeling of gray? Where all is routine, even down to the clothing you wear, the food that you eat, and the route that you take to work? Those gray days - where even buying a little trifle to lighten your mood has no effect? Some people chalk it up to the winter weather and its sustained periods of snow and cold and gray skies. But, it feels as if I've tapped into a mood that's not my own. All around me, at the grocery store, in the churchyard, and at the coffee shop, everywhere, there seems to be this grayness. This Great Recession has put this country into one bad mood-swing, so much so that it's triggering a Great Depression 2.0 - the Mental Health Edition.

Apparently, I'm not the only one taking notice. Last fall in Orlando, Florida, a campaign entitled, "It's Okay to Get Help" launched in order to help the growing numbers of Central Floridians experiencing mental health crises triggered by the tough economy.

So, is it possible for an entire country to be in a bad mood?

I'm starting to think that the answer to that question is HELL YES! So, what can we do, as a country, to "get our happy back"? I'm Just Saying has a few ideas:

1. Stop moaning and start moving: If life is kicking you while you're down, then there's no better time to pack up your bags and move closer to the ocean or into the mountains or into that stone cottage in the foothills of Appalachia that you fantasized about while working in that grey, soul-less cubicle before you were downsized. It's time for the Great Migration 2011! Always wanted to trade in your snow shovel for flip-flops and a questionable tan line? Then get thee gone to Florida - I hear you can buy a condo for a song!! Sometimes, new beginnings come from an abrupt stop.
2. Stop watching news talk/opinion shows: Notice, I didn't say stop watching THE NEWS, rather stop watching news talk shows. So leave the Becks, Maddows, Bill-Os, Andersons, Parkers-Spitzers, and, instead, just get the news, unsullied with opinion. These shows only make you angrier, more frustrated, or plain old sad. Leave them to their rants, and their take on things. Think for yourself. Oh, and this goes for fake-news shows as well, so give a long, inappropriate kiss goodbye to the Daily Show and to Bill Maher. Real people aren't left or right!
3. Stop making reality show stars/contestants/lab experiments your role models: Just last week, one of the starts of MTV's "The Hills" finally 'fessed up that the bulk of the show was scripted!! Would that they had made this stunning admission years earlier and maybe the world would have spared the likes of Kelly Catrone, the entire cast of "Jersey Shore", and the pantheon of noxious reality stars crowding the entertainment firmament! Applicants are still pouring in for every new reality show concept. And much like the nuclear arms race, contestants must go big or go home - usually during some heart-pounding conclusion in the final 3 minutes of the show. Here's the deal - if you're a 14 year old girl who's pregnant, then odds are you're not getting a show on MTV. If you wear wigs and date married men, Andy Cohen from Bravo TV ain't picking up the phone to get you on the couch as one of his stable (get it, because of the weaves???) of so-called "Bravo-leberties".

It's time we all got our groove back. I'm just saying:)

You Get Paid for That?? Or, Why Snooki Makes More than your Kid's Teacher!

It was recently revealed that the Kardashian family pulled in $65 million in 2010. How did they do it? Well, it wasn't from some unbelievable world-saving scientific breakthrough; rather it was from their stable of reality shows, music singles, personal appearances, selling photos of their weddings and babies to the tabloids, writing a book, sending Tweets, hawking perfumes, and fashion lines. Think about it - one of the Kardashians sold her wedding pictures to a tabloid for $300K - that's one HELL of a cake cutting! If you want to have a Kardashian show up at your next party, you'd better get out your checkbook because it can cost you as much as $100K domestic and $1 million if your Kardashian must fly outside of the United States. And while you're sitting there on Twitter giving it away, Kim Kardashian is earning $25,000 for tweets that endorse certain products.

But the insanity doesn't end there! The cast of MTV's "Jersey Shore" successfully negotiated a per episode salary increase from $10,000 to $30,000. That should keep The Situation in fake-bake and hair gel for the next decade! In addition, Snooki - the pickle-chomping grande dame of the Jersey Shore, has written a book and has launched a line of house slippers so that you, too, may live la vida Snooki.

I hate to sound like a ticked off Jan Brady, but it's just not fair! It seems like there's an epidemic of people getting something for nothing - and by "something", I mean money; and by "nothing", I mean to say their lack of talent. It would seem that an indicator for future success isn't good grades in school and a good work ethic - rather, it's the ability to get hold of a video camera and do unspeakable things in front of it. Let's call it the Paris Effect, after the now 30-year old little rich girl who made a career out of being tacky, slutty, and any other "-y" that you can cause a bad taste in your mouth. No pun intended!

Paris Hilton is frightening. Think about it: she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, educated in the finest schools, given every advantage in her life and instead of working in the family business or joining the Peace Corps, she decides to strike out and make a name for herself by being a tramp! She created the blueprint for the legions of Kim Kardashians, Snookis, and others who will surely follow. Paris' "empire" (that's what she calls it) includes a stable of fragrances for men and women, and now an iPhone app. Somewhere, Monica Lewinsky must be kicking herself for stopping at handbags!

I guess now is the time that I'm supposed to put all of this into perspective, showing how vapid and empty the lives of these minor celebs must be. And I'll do that - eventually. For now, I'm just going to hurl myself onto my bed, legs kicking, and fists pounding the mattress, frustrated by the unfairness of it all. Where is that video camera?? I'm just saying:)

Baby Mama Drama during Movie Night!

Silly me, thinking that a late movie on date night would be a child-free zone! I found out 15 minutes into the film how wrong I was when the first "wa-wa-wa's" erupted from the nosebleed seats. The outburst lasted for 3 minutes, that's 180 seconds - an eternity in movie years! A secondary eruption followed 20 minutes later, this one accompanied by the hurried steps of Baby Mama darting towards the exit carrying the irritated infant. I could see the outline of Baby Mama and child, as she attempted to rock the baby into better humor. It seemed to work, and so Baby Mama and child began their assent back up to their seats.

All was quiet, save for the rustling of hands into tubs of buttery popcorn and the onscreen happenings of Adam Sandler and Jennifer Aniston, when the little one had another meltdown, exploding into a torrent of tears and ear-splitting shrieks and that's when the Mothership LOST. HER. MIND!! Only, it wasn't directed towards her baby, rather it was aimed at someone else in the nosebleed section who must have made a comment about the baby because Baby Mama responded with a very loud, "Well, just MIND your damn business, then!!"

Now this isn't the first time a stranger has sought to intervene when a baby has gone nuclear. We've all been there when a pint-size terror throws a toddler tantrum while mommy and daddy stand stricken and humiliated. Some of us coo at little Kiddie Kaboom in a vain attempt to quell their madness with kindness, but there are times when, frankly, no one wants to hear your child.

There are different schools of thought on how best to deal with a child-gone-wild. Some opt for immediate removal and containment, taking the little one out of the situation at the first whimper. You'll notice these people, as they'll insist on sitting nearest the exit with their coats on, in a perpetual state of high alert. These, I must admit, are some of my favorite people!

There are others, though, who take a more wait and see approach, preferring to let a few whimpers and unhappy gurgles go unchecked, and using a mixture of techniques, including rapid leg bouncing of the tiny tot and shifting the little one between parents. They'll stay until the frequency of nasty looks and the chorus of throat-clearing from observers drives them into sudden awareness that their child's behavior might be a bit annoying.

But the worst are those who dig in, and, even while their child is in the midst of an epic foot-stomping rage, they are steadfast and immovable. They seem dulled to the hysterics of their child, or maybe they've become so accustomed to it that they're like the Borg from Star Trek: "resistance is futile!" 

One of my friends who's a mother of two falls into the immediate removal and containment category. Her philosophy is that there are certain situations where it's not a good idea to have baby on board. During the toddler years, she and her hubby had a no fancy restaurant policy - unless they had a baby sitter at home with the little one. Kids were left at home with one parent while the other made the weekly grocery store trip - in fact, the same policy was in place for mommy's hair dresser appointments and trips to the mall and the movies. I'd tell you her name, but she doesn't exist:(  But maybe, just maybe, she will one day. In the meantime, when you find yourself staring down a one year old on a mission to ruin your trip to see the latest R-rated thriller, just make a note of the nearest exit - you're going to need it! I'm just saying:)

Justin Bieber and the Agony of Defeat

Justin Bieber has had a tough few days - his much-hyped movie was beaten out of the top spot in its opening weekend by a movie whose romantic leads have a combined age of 80-something! He walked the Grammy red carpet with his fly unzipped, was forced to share the stage in his Grammy performance with Will Smith's obnoxious son and a huffing and puffing Usher, and walked away empty-handed. The headlines screamed "Grammy Upset" next to stills of Bieber, while talking heads and entertainment media, in the role of esteemed sage, tried to put it all in perspective with comments like, "well, he's only 16, this won't be the last we hear from him." To top it all off, an outbreak of Bieber Fever caused his fans to send out violent tweets against Esperanza Spaulding, the woman who beat the Bieb, taking home the Best New Artist Grammy; oh, and he had to work on Valentine's Day, including an awkward interview with Conan O'Brien, where he was forced to answer, yet again, the Question of the Day: "Are you disappointed that you didn't win the Grammy?"

Ouch!

That's a heck of a lot for any adult to deal with, so imagine what must be going on in the head of this 16 year old. It's not like losing the election for student body president. Bieber is an industry and a product, supporting hundreds of people from concert promoters to the guys hawking t-shirts, to the ticket agents, the roadies, bus companies, managers, musicians, dancers, technicians, etc. A Grammy loss, a lackluster live performance, or a dip in box office - these singular incidents ripple through Bieber World and can cause a panic. If Bieber were a stock, then he's taken a definite hit.

It may sound premature to ponder the demise of a pop idol, but at some point, the fever pitch begins to subside and you'll be forced to make some decisions about who you want to be and what you want to do with your life and your talent. Other pop stars have been through this, but the survivability rates are variable. Michael Jackson enjoyed critical success as well as mass appeal as a performer and writer, but his personal life was fraught. Britney Spears eschewed the critical acclaim, choosing to remain a pop princess, but with a host of personal demons. Miley Cyrus is in the midst of the transition to adult artist, expanding, with limited success, into film actress and clothing designer, and weathering some embarrassing extracurricular activities.

Bieber is a talented kid, and the hope is that as he finds his way, he'll remember that the talent that brought him to this place will see him through this temporary set-back. President Richard M. Nixon once said, "You've got to learn to survive a defeat. That's when you develop character." And if that doesn't help, well then the Bieb can console himself with a cat nap on a bed made out of stacks of $100 bills, or line the cat's litter box with fifties, or to quote another famous person who climbed out of hard times, comic Dave Chappelle, "I'm rich B*tch!" I'm just saying!

Valentine's Day Tip #1 - Just Say Thanks and Shut Your Mouth

For those of us living in the world of the coupled, we sometimes forget that most basic grace - good manners. The gift of good manners is often overlooked because for many couples, there develops a shorthand by which we communicate. Oftentimes, we're overtaken by the busyness of life - jobs, kids, aging parents, cooking, cleaning - and the first things that get cut are the "thank-you's". And once the thank-you's take a powder, it's only a matter of time before there is a complete breakdown in all of the elements that comprise good manners. In place of good manners, we develop  C.C.E., short for Crazy Couple Etiquette. C.C.E. can be a bit confusing to outsiders, and, depending on how long a couple's been together, it can transform the most benign situation into a  potential powder keg.

For instance, in the dating world, talking while another person is talking, and constantly reminding the speaker of details forgotten or disordered is considered rude. But it's perfectly acceptable in C.C.E.. Hell, they even give it a cute description, calling it "finishing each other's sentences."

So, in the spirit of Valentine's Day, and as a public service to couples and the innocent bystanders who spend time with these couples, I propose that we work together to drop the crazy, develop a new couples' etiquette. I'd like to hit the "delete" key on the following:

1. Saying "we're pregnant" - Unless you're a sapphic couple who've both decided to be pregnant at the same time, this expression needs to go away. The one with the morning sickness, stretch marks, fatigue, and the baby growing inside of her is the one who's pregnant!
2. Girls Night Out - This one vexes me. First, the people who usually use this phrase haven't been girls for a lot of years. And second, it supposes that in couples land, it's deemed a special circumstance for the female half of the partnering to spend time with her friends.
3. The existence of "man caves" - You know, prior to man caves, the only other place where you had all of your favorite toys in one place was your play pen. This persistent narrative that men are like children keeps alive the myth that in every hetero pairing, girlfriend/wife = mommy! How the heck is that healthy, much less sexy??
4. Purse as couple carryall - I must admit that am I guilty of taking a larger-than-necessary purse with me as my everyday accessory, but over the years, my husband's gone from pondering its construction to cramming it full of things. At the theatre, keys, cell phone, and eyeglass case are handed over to me as I am taking my seat. And now, this has extended to vacations, with my backpack loaded down with extra waters, knick-knacks purchased from street vendors. GET YOUR OWN BAG!!!

Now that I've given you all a starting point, let's hear what you'd all like to banish from C.C.E.! Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day, with your help, many more couples will live to see a bright future with Cupid:) I'm just saying!

A Love Note to the Brunch Bunch

The years between grad school and getting married were my single years, and boy were they fun! There was a lot of hard work, but there was also a lot of good times spent with a group of men that I'll call The Brunch Bunch. These were my guys and I was their adopted baby sister, tagging along to the opera, symphony concerts, theatre, and restaurants I'd never heard of, but soon loved! They taught me how to properly tip everyone from doormen to waiters. They showed me how to hold a wine glass, introduced me to a good, after-dinner port. After church on Sundays, we'd gather at some fabulous place for our favorite ritual - brunch. During spring, summer, and fall, the goal was to find a great outdoor spot where we could sit, sunshades on, and watch the parade of humanity float by us on the sidewalk. We were all Anna Wintour wannabees judging the "talent" as they worked it.

Our brunch conversations were fast and furious with politics and religion occupying equal air-time with boyfriend drama, shoe obsessions, and celebrity fashion. We could, and did, close a brunch down, camping out at a table for several hours. As serial over-tippers we were coveted guests in any waiter's section. After brunch, we'd indulge in window-shopping, trying on hats at that cute store on the corner, checking out that adorable shoe-store with the 4-inch pumps. If the weather was particularly delightful, we'd sit at the fountain, sunning ourselves and maybe visit a museum or see a movie (nothing with subtitles, though, as that was really risky after a heavy brunch).

My Brunch Bunch also knew how to throw one hell of a party. It was like something out of "Breakfast at Tiffany's," with sketchy characters, former debutantes, and ribald story tellers mixing with church ministers, lounge singers, aspiring politicians, and bureaucrats all holding court. There seemed always to be a piano around which we all gathered to sing everything from Broadway show tunes to the hits of legends like Streisand.

My guys were always there with a shoulder to cry on, and an ear to listen. When a boyfriend was merely hanging on, it was my Brunch Bunch who dealt the final devastating blow with a single question, along the lines of, "Don't you deserve better?" Or, "Honey, aren't you smarter than that?" These men taught me everyday, through our friendship, the most important lessons of intimacy - trust, honesty, commitment.

Now, my Brunch Bunch has disbanded - most have moved away, starting new chapters in their lives. And I have started forming a new Brunch Bunch. Just because I'm married doesn't mean that I don't need my guys - in fact, I need them more than ever before! And so, to my old Brunch Bunch, I thank you and I love you all for always. Happy Valentine's Day - I'm just saying:)

Seeing Red

Well, with the heavy rotation of TV ads for adults-only creams and gels, diamonds, chocolates, and the over-abundance of Victoria's Secret catalogs in my mailbox, it can only mean one thing - that's right, Valentine's Day.

Valentine's Day used to send shudders up and down my spine when I was single - mostly because you never knew what was in store for you. It was either going to be the thrill of victory or the agony of defeat. One of the worst Valentine's Days was during my first year of grad school. I worked on campus in the basement office of the university chapel, and there I sat, surrounded by several other workmates, all of us dateless, eating the tuna salad leftover from the dean's weekly luncheon, from a canary yellow Tupperware bowl.

It's such a lot of pressure for everyone - whether or not you're involved. "Will you be my Valentine?" may seem, on the surface, to be a question asked in complete innocence. But once you strip away the cards, candies, flowers, and the diaper-wearing, bow and arrow-wielding cherub, you get to the core question, which is, "Do you desire me?" or, "Do you still desire me?" and that's a scary question because what if the answer is, "no"?

But, what if the answer is "yes"? I'm just saying:)