I get it. Socialites like Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton are famous for their names. They don't need to "sing" even though they do, much to our horror, nor do they have to have their own perfume to maintain their notoriety. But their widespread popularity has always had me thinking, WHY are we obsessed with talentless, braindead individuals who contribute to society by keeping designers in the spotlight.
Take the whole, recent Gosselins phenomenon. Granted, it's interesting to watch how a couple raises 8 children and fascinating to wonder how a woman can maintain a pregnancy that delivers six healthy babies. Beyond the show, though? The ONLY newsworthy tidbit of the whole he slept with/she slept with debacle is that it's newsworthy.
Why are we obsessed with other peoples' lives, strangers we don't know who don't provide us with anything substantial, aside from ridiculous entertainment? Most of these shows are scripted and edited to look more exciting and dramatic than they are. Additionally, most people come across as morons (Housewives of Orange County? Or how about that old NYC based ludicrousness called The Gastaneau Girls....plastic mother and daughter living their Upper East Side, shallow lives?)
On the flip side, there are shows with average Americans living in average towns, and perhaps that's where the popularity of reality tv sets in. It's alluring to watch other families and "normal" people get spotlight and fame. If it happens to them, surely, it can happen to me? Let's not forget the other voice going off in our heads. Just like a soap opera, their lives are worse than mine.
Kate Gosselin told People magazine, "I don't know that we're in the same place anymore, that we want the same thing." Now THAT is amazing!!!!! How could anyone feel that way about a marriage? How could anyone cheat and be confused about his or her spouse and raising eight kids? Truly groundbreaking interview, folks. I have no ill will toward her, don't get me wrong. I feel sad for her that her life has been thrown into the public eye in such a degrading, embarrassing way, not to mention that her husband is a total ass for thinking that his affair could be kept from the public or his kids. He's a selfish prick. I'm sure she's under a tremendous amount of stress anyway dealing with a large family, and now this. It must suck.
However, I do blame the media. People feels the need to publish this? This is the same level as the death of Natasha Richardson, a beloved stage and screen actress who did good work for society? I believe reality television cheapens people. Women look like bimbos (Housewives). Men look like schmucks (The Bachelor). HORRID singers and dancers get televised and applauded. Moreover, as a society we soak it up like pathetic amoebas.
I'm fully aware that it's entertainment, not to mention reality shows are cheaper to produce so their presence is conducive to a bad economy. But I, for one, learn nothing from them. I never gave two shits about Paris and Nicole's old feud, nor have I ever cared about them when their bizarre "show" was being aired. It's not very smart to parade them on magazines, either. They are hardly acceptable role models for young women, but then again, how many socialites are? The only one I can think of is Ivanka Trump, or whatever her name is. At least she is educated and works. Hopefully, she won't follow in dad's footsteps and start some insipid apprentice garbage. (Plus, her father's plastic surgery was always too distracting for me--I could never watch an hour of his immovable face. Let's get real.) Maybe she already has. I wouldn't know. I don't watch those types of shows.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Ida, Lady of the Lake
We should all be so lucky to have a life with no regrets, one filled with health and vigor. We should all be so lucky to be surrounded by loved ones at the time of our death. For that matter, we should all have many people who love us for our entire 95 years on this earth. But, I suppose, we should be so lucky to live to be 95. My dear grandma Ida, otherwise known as my bubby, was one of the fortunate. And I, in turn, am one of the lucky whose lives she impacted.
I am the little girl she always wanted. "When you were born, bubbala, I finally got my little girl."I've been told, from a young age, that I am just like her. Her love of music, which she imparted on my dad, who imparted his own love onto me, her gracefulness (she won a dance contest at age 15), her appreciation in general for the arts. All of this has clearly impacted me in a myriad of ways throughout my life. We used to watch Ice Skating competitions on tv together and male diving during the Olympics ( I can still hear her saying, "my, my just look at those bodies").
But I believe it is the essence of who she was as a person that I inherited. She had no tolerance for bullshit. She was a woman of respect and class but you did NOT cross her path. My father was the same way, and I, being very much like my father, have a sharp tongue. Too often. She worried about her health all the time, but that in itself kept her healthy to a ripe age, and as many of you know, I have slight hypochondriachial tendencies.
She had to have the finer things in life, the right necklace, the perfect coat for the appropriate weather, the right slippers to make sure her feet were comfortable and warm. The funny thing is, she was always calling us to tell us to order such and such on QVC or ask if we wanted certain shoes or sweaters that would be relevant to God knows what, but she was always right! Her instincts and knowledge were impeccable on all ends, regardless of a shoe size or whether to get book ends. She could read people within minutes of meeting them, and regardless of what she thought of them would know their life story before their second encounter.
The most significant thing, though, that I remember about my bubby is her elegance and how she would try to instill that into me. For years, I thought she was old-fashioned. I thought she had a sexist mentality: Let the man do the talking and let him think he's so smart. THEN you take charge when you have him. With my Barnard education, I let her comments roll in one year and out the other. But as I got older, I began to realize she knew quite a bit about quite a lot.
She put my grandfather through college and never stopped working, even after he graduated. She could play softball as a young woman with any man she came into contact with. She believed in gay rights, believed I had a brilliant mind and could accomplish anything I wanted, even though I was female. She was simply able to live her life with a certain amount of grace that I wish I possessed. Perhaps it's her generation, or maybe what she was taught, but I think it was her instinct. She knew what to say to people to make them feel comfortable and loved. She knew when to be honest and when to glaze over the truth, ever so slightly. She was blunt, yes, and quite critical at times, but her love was always apparent.
If there is one thing I learned from Ida it is that the love of one's family is the most valuable posession. It is not something to be trampled on or taken for granted. To give love means to receive it. To reach out to a family member usually ensures someone will reach out to you. And it should be instinctual, it should go without saying.
I will always love you Bubby Ida. Your grace and elegance will always be admired by your family and those you encountered. Your deep love and affection will always protect me.
I am the little girl she always wanted. "When you were born, bubbala, I finally got my little girl."I've been told, from a young age, that I am just like her. Her love of music, which she imparted on my dad, who imparted his own love onto me, her gracefulness (she won a dance contest at age 15), her appreciation in general for the arts. All of this has clearly impacted me in a myriad of ways throughout my life. We used to watch Ice Skating competitions on tv together and male diving during the Olympics ( I can still hear her saying, "my, my just look at those bodies").
But I believe it is the essence of who she was as a person that I inherited. She had no tolerance for bullshit. She was a woman of respect and class but you did NOT cross her path. My father was the same way, and I, being very much like my father, have a sharp tongue. Too often. She worried about her health all the time, but that in itself kept her healthy to a ripe age, and as many of you know, I have slight hypochondriachial tendencies.
She had to have the finer things in life, the right necklace, the perfect coat for the appropriate weather, the right slippers to make sure her feet were comfortable and warm. The funny thing is, she was always calling us to tell us to order such and such on QVC or ask if we wanted certain shoes or sweaters that would be relevant to God knows what, but she was always right! Her instincts and knowledge were impeccable on all ends, regardless of a shoe size or whether to get book ends. She could read people within minutes of meeting them, and regardless of what she thought of them would know their life story before their second encounter.
The most significant thing, though, that I remember about my bubby is her elegance and how she would try to instill that into me. For years, I thought she was old-fashioned. I thought she had a sexist mentality: Let the man do the talking and let him think he's so smart. THEN you take charge when you have him. With my Barnard education, I let her comments roll in one year and out the other. But as I got older, I began to realize she knew quite a bit about quite a lot.
She put my grandfather through college and never stopped working, even after he graduated. She could play softball as a young woman with any man she came into contact with. She believed in gay rights, believed I had a brilliant mind and could accomplish anything I wanted, even though I was female. She was simply able to live her life with a certain amount of grace that I wish I possessed. Perhaps it's her generation, or maybe what she was taught, but I think it was her instinct. She knew what to say to people to make them feel comfortable and loved. She knew when to be honest and when to glaze over the truth, ever so slightly. She was blunt, yes, and quite critical at times, but her love was always apparent.
If there is one thing I learned from Ida it is that the love of one's family is the most valuable posession. It is not something to be trampled on or taken for granted. To give love means to receive it. To reach out to a family member usually ensures someone will reach out to you. And it should be instinctual, it should go without saying.
I will always love you Bubby Ida. Your grace and elegance will always be admired by your family and those you encountered. Your deep love and affection will always protect me.
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