A few weeks ago, a celebrity death showed up in my Facebook newsfeed. It was Mickey Rooney. You know, Elizabeth Taylor's trainer in National Velvet, Judy Garland's song and dance partner in countless musicals, cinema history's most offensively racist depiction of a Japanese person in Breakfast at Tiffany's. It was sad news.
Or, it would have been.
If it weren't two years old.
Some social media stories tend to be everywhere at once. When Miley Cyrus twerked at MTV's Video Music Awards, we all saw it (whether we wanted to or not) within hours. Other items float around the interwebs for months and years, becoming new news to new viewers, no matter how old news the event is in the old-school, real-life, analog world.
Earlier this week, a friend of mine (a dad with two terrific tween daughters), posted a piece of poetry, written and performed by three remarkable teen girls. I was blown away, reposted it and immediately made my own teenage daughter sit down and watch it.
I was interested in the story behind the striking video and, upon some quick googling, was surprised to learn that the poets — Belissa Escobedo, Rhiannon McGavin, and Zariya Allen — wrote it a couple of years ago (close to the time when Mickey Rooney died, actually). The three girls are members of Get Lit: Words Ignite, a not-for-profit that encourages kids to use the power of words to improve drop-out rates and literacy in Los Angeles (where 40% of public high students don't make it to graduation).
Escobedo, McGavin and Allen performed their "Somewhere in America" in competition at Youth Speaks' Brave New Voices, and were then invited to do it on national television by Queen Latifah.
I'm sorry I saw this nearly two years late, but glad it found its way to me. And, I'm particularly glad I can share it with you.
Here's the video, and a transcript below:
Here in America and every single state they have a set of standards
for every subject, a collection of lessons that the teacher’s required
to teach by the end of the term. But the greatest lessons you will ever
teach us will not come from your syllabus. The greatest lessons you
will ever teach us you will not even remember.
You never told us what we weren’t allowed to say. We just learned how to hold our tongues.
Now somewhere in America there is a child holding a copy of ‘Catcher
in the Rye’ and there is a child holding a gun. But only one of these
things have been banned by their state government and, it’s not the one
that can rip through flesh, it’s the one that says “‘F’ You” on more
pages than one.
Because we must control what people say. how they think. And if they
want to become the overseer of their own selves then we’ll show them a
real one.
And somewhere in America there is a child sitting at his mother’s
computer reading the home page of the KKK’s website and that’s open to
the public. But that child will have never read ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’
because his school has banned it for it’s use of the ‘N’-word.
Maya Angelou is prohibited because we’re not allowed to talk about
rape in school. We are taught that just because something happens
doesn’t mean we are to talk about it.
They build us brand new shopping malls so we’ll forget where we’re
really standing – ON THE BONES of the Hispanics, ON THE BONES of the
slaves, ON THE BONES of the Native Americans, ON THE BONES of those who
fought just to speak.
Transcontinental railroads to Japanese internment camps. There are
things missing from our history books. But we were taught that it is
better to be silent than to make them uncomfortable.
Somewhere in America private school girls search for hours through
boutiques trying to find the prom dress of their dreams; while kids on
the south side spend hours searching through the lost and found ’cause
winter’s coming soon and that’s the only jacket they have.
Kids are late to class for working the midnight shift. They give
awards for best attendance but not for keeping your family off the
streets.
These kids will call your music ghetto. They will tell you you don’t
talk right. Then they’ll get in the backseat of a car with all their
friends singing how they’re “‘Bout that life” and “We can’t stop”.
Somewhere in America schools are promoting self confidence while they
whip out their scales and shout out your body fat percentage in class.
Where the heftier girls are hiding away and the slim fit beauties can’t
help but giggle with pride.
The preppy kids go thrift shopping because they think it sounds fun.
But we go ’cause that’s all we’ve got money for ’cause mama works for
the city; mama only gets paid once a month.
Somewhere in America a girl is getting felt up by a grown man on a
subway. She’s still in her school uniform and that’s part of the appeal.
It’s hard to run in knee socks and Mary Jane’s and all her male
teachers know it, too.
Coaches cover up star players raping freshmen after the dance. Women
are killed for rejecting a date but God forbid I bring my girlfriend to
prom.
A girl is blackout drunk at the after party. Take a picture before her wounds wake her. How many pixels is your sanity worth?
What’s a 4.0 to a cold jury?
What’d you learn in class today? Don’t talk loud, don’t speak loud,
keep your hands to yourself, keep your head down. Keep your eyes on your
own paper. If you don’t know the answer fill in C.
Always wear ear-buds when you ride the bus alone. If you think that someone’s following you pretend you’re on the phone.
A teacher never fails. Only you do.
Every state in America.
The greatest lessons are the ones you don’t remember learning.
If you've enjoyed this post, I invite you to order the book Lovin' the Alien here.
Showing posts with label Miley Cyrus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Miley Cyrus. Show all posts
Friday, March 18, 2016
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Why Is This Boy Smiling?
A lucky paparazzo once earned $250,000 for a shot of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie on vacation in Namibia. (Interestingly, "Brangelina" had already turned the tables on the celebrity photo business back in 2006 when they sold their own photos of their newborn to People for $4.1 million.) Stalking and shooting and selling famous people is big business.
But, I have a feeling that whoever took today's hottest picture of a star didn't make quite that much. Google "Bieber mug shot" and you'll come up with 9.2 million hits.
"Say cheese."
My teenage daughter was never a big fan (a "Bieber Fever Belieber Believer" or whatever Justin's groupies are called). Sure, we watched the tribute Glee episode together, but otherwise, she could take him or leave him. So it isn't as though we're emotionally vested in the young man's health and well-being. Still, every time these stories pop up in my Facebook feed, I get a little more disgusted.
Let's take a quick look at some of Bieber's accomplishments, shall we?
His "Baby" made history as the top-selling digital single, receiving Diamond status by the Recording Industry Association of America after going platinum twelve times.
Never Say Never, Bieber's concert documentary earned more than $99 million in worldwide box office.
Whether you like his particular brand of pouty pop or not, the boy has proven himself from a sales perspective. He's a big thing with lots of fans (63,695,453 on Facebook alone). And, based on his most recent ... er ... accomplishments, he truly does "believe" in all his own hype. For example, and this is all within the last month:
Bieber is under investigation for "egging" his neighbor's house, causing $20,000 in damages (all right, how big were these eggs?).
When the police arrived to search his house, they found drugs. They originally said it was cocaine, but it appears that it was only a form of ecstasy known as "Molly." (Phew, what a relief.)
He recently texted full-frontal pictures of his penis to on-again/off-again girlfriend Selena Gomez with such endearing comments as: "Cum on, don't tell me you don't miss this," and later, "Can't hear you cuz of all my cash, babe! You’re only famous cuz of me … Go f*ck someone else. Keep that talentless p*ssy away from me!”
And he wonders why she's off-again?
Earlier this week, he visited a number of strip clubs in Miami to distribute 75,000 $1 bills. And this morning, he was arrested.
My, my they do add up. Today's stunts comprise their own list. Let's see, illegally drag racing. Driving under the influence. Resisting arrest. "What the f*ck are you doing?" he demanded, prior to being cuffed. Apparently, he has decided that he is above the law.
So what's next for young Justin? A new haircut maybe? Another number one album? Or a continued spiral down? Things don't look good. In fact, he makes Miley Cyrus look positively Disney, doesn't he? As a mom, I hope he can get his act back together. But, I have my doubts.
Maybe I'll just wait for the E! True Hollywood Story. At the rate he's going, it should be out by ... oh ... next week.
But, I have a feeling that whoever took today's hottest picture of a star didn't make quite that much. Google "Bieber mug shot" and you'll come up with 9.2 million hits.
"Say cheese."
My teenage daughter was never a big fan (a "Bieber Fever Belieber Believer" or whatever Justin's groupies are called). Sure, we watched the tribute Glee episode together, but otherwise, she could take him or leave him. So it isn't as though we're emotionally vested in the young man's health and well-being. Still, every time these stories pop up in my Facebook feed, I get a little more disgusted.
Let's take a quick look at some of Bieber's accomplishments, shall we?
Bieber is the youngest recording artist ever to have five number one albums.
Never Say Never, Bieber's concert documentary earned more than $99 million in worldwide box office.
Whether you like his particular brand of pouty pop or not, the boy has proven himself from a sales perspective. He's a big thing with lots of fans (63,695,453 on Facebook alone). And, based on his most recent ... er ... accomplishments, he truly does "believe" in all his own hype. For example, and this is all within the last month:
Bieber is under investigation for "egging" his neighbor's house, causing $20,000 in damages (all right, how big were these eggs?).
When the police arrived to search his house, they found drugs. They originally said it was cocaine, but it appears that it was only a form of ecstasy known as "Molly." (Phew, what a relief.)
He recently texted full-frontal pictures of his penis to on-again/off-again girlfriend Selena Gomez with such endearing comments as: "Cum on, don't tell me you don't miss this," and later, "Can't hear you cuz of all my cash, babe! You’re only famous cuz of me … Go f*ck someone else. Keep that talentless p*ssy away from me!”
And he wonders why she's off-again?
Earlier this week, he visited a number of strip clubs in Miami to distribute 75,000 $1 bills. And this morning, he was arrested.
My, my they do add up. Today's stunts comprise their own list. Let's see, illegally drag racing. Driving under the influence. Resisting arrest. "What the f*ck are you doing?" he demanded, prior to being cuffed. Apparently, he has decided that he is above the law.
So what's next for young Justin? A new haircut maybe? Another number one album? Or a continued spiral down? Things don't look good. In fact, he makes Miley Cyrus look positively Disney, doesn't he? As a mom, I hope he can get his act back together. But, I have my doubts.
Maybe I'll just wait for the E! True Hollywood Story. At the rate he's going, it should be out by ... oh ... next week.
Friday, December 27, 2013
Most News is No News, 2013's Biggest Non-Stories
When my now teenage daughter was little, I tried to shield her from the news.
In my opinion (and personal experience) most of the news on TV is designed for two purposes, neither of which is to make us intelligent or informed. Televised news stories get the networks more eyeballs ("Stay tuned for exclusive fast-breaking story available only here at WXYZ, your local authority on all news, all the time ... blah blah blah.") and/or to get the owners of those eyeballs to buy anti-anxiety medication from pharmaceutical company sponsors.
Yep, I'm a wee bit cynical about it. And not just because I love the movie Broadcast News either. But, of course, I do!
As any parent paying any kind of attention will tell you, shielding our kids from pretty much anything is a losing battle. When the twin towers fell on 9/11, my daughter's preschool sent home a note. They would not address the terrorist attacks in class. If we chose to at home, they asked that we impress upon our children that they not bring it up among their playmates. The very next day, I walked in and saw an elaborate construction (or deconstruction) project in the center of the Pre-K floor. Skyscrapers of blocks were under attack by toy airplanes as little dolls dove to their death.
Clearly all the children had been shielded from the news. Yeah, right.
My daughter is still not very interested in the news (unless it arrives via text from a friend), but she does learn about current events in various classes. We have political discussions at dinner. She has actually been known to look at a newspaper. Yes, a paper one, really. But, I still prefer not to have the nightly news on. Not because of real stories: the Boston Marathon Bombing, the Papal Congress, the war in Syria, nuclear missile threats. Not because of important political issues: gun control, the Affordable Health Care Act, the Federal Government furlow.
No, I can't abide the news because of all the manufactured trash.
I'm not talking about magazine shows on entertainment channels. I'm talking about national news. This year, in particular, we have made mountains out of not-exactly-newsworthy molehills. Some of the biggest headlines are just plain laughable. Haircuts? Tweets? Twerking?
Here are my Top 10 So-Not-News Stories for 2013. Let's take a quick trip down recent memory lane ...
10. Jennifer Lawrence's haircut. OMG! Stop the frrrrkin' press. A haircut! Whoa.
9. Miley Cyrus showing off her buff and barely legal body in her nude video "Wrecking Ball." In a way, it's a shame. I actually like the song. Then again, if I looked like that, maybe I'd want to show and share too.
8. Toronto Mayor Robert Ford who admitted to smoking crack "probably in one of my drunken stupors," and went on to quite explicitly describe why he didn't need to eat out. Um ... Mr. Ford, TMI, baby. TMI.
7. Miley Cyrus twerking with giant toy teddy bears and Robin Thicke on the MTV Video Music Awards. The performance was ridiculous and arguably inappropriate — and drove more than 300,000 tweets a minute. Say what?
6. The Royal Baby. Okay, I confess that I was caught up in all the Wills and Kate pregnancy drama. And, I was really hoping for a girl. She would have been the first female heir to the throne by her own worth, not because she happened to be brotherless. Ah. Maybe next time.
5. Miley Cyrus and her public feud with Sinead "I'm saying this in a maternal way" O'Connor. Ladies, ladies. Can't you agree to disagree (and agree that either way, there's no such thing as bad publicity)?
4. Paula Deen's n-word. Is it cool that her down-home Southern charm included a heaping helping of good old-fashioned racism? Of course not. But do what you need to do (fire her, boycott her, whatever) and move along already.
3. Miley Cyrus and her break-up with fiancé Liam Hemsworth. In an interesting confluence of not-really-news news, Hemsworth plays Gale in the wildly successful Hunger Games movie franchise. In it, he's the hometown honey of one Katniss Everdeen, portrayed by non other than Jennifer Lawrence who ... wait for it ... got a new haircut! OMG!
2. Kim and Kanye (or anyone else related to a particular K-family that we all know, although I for one am not sure why).
And, of course, while she may have lost to His Holiness for TIME's Person of the Year, the biggest winner as far as column inches (or whatever the Internet's equivalent is) was, you guessed it:
1. Miley Cyrus. This young lady won the non-news lottery. She's the one we love. She's the one we hate. In 2013, she's the one laughing ... all the way to the bank.
'Hope you had a very Miley Christmas and best wishes for a twerktastic New Year.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Miley: Here's One Motherf--cker You Should Listen To
When I started in my career in the mid 80s (ouch), I had both women supervisors and men. The men were invariably generous with their time and advice. The women, by and large, were less so. This may be because I ended up (at a very early age) doing my male bosses' jobs for them. And, it may also be that the women I worked for were threatened.
(This is only my experience, and I'm sorry that it was because I believe that the successful businesswoman is invariably stereotyped as an unsupportive bee-yotch.)
So, let's assume that there's some truth to the idea that women are threatened by their younger, talented peers. (Who can blame them; historically there hasn't been enough opportunity for women to go around.) How much worse it must be for those in the entertainment industry, where middle-aged is replaced by young, young is replaced by younger, and old is forgotten altogether.
That's why I was heartened this morning to hear about a music industry veteran, reaching out to her younger singer-sister with some caring and constructive criticism. The message (rather riddled with profanity) was sent to (the "f*ck it, it girl" of the moment) Miley Cyrus. And it was written by (the "f*ck it, it girl" of the 90s) Sinead O'Connor.
This is only newsworthy to my generation, I'm afraid. My teenage daughter probably doesn't know who O'Connor is/was. She may have heard "Nothing Compares 2 U" on one of my "adult contemporary" (aka "old lady") radio stations. But, she certainly wouldn't know about the Irish singer's infamous appearance on Saturday Night Live, when she tore up a picture of the Pope in a petulant gesture that was almost as big a waste of time as the outrage that ensued.
Every time some hot young thing goes off the deep end (Britney, Lindsay Lohan, Amanda Bynes), I always wonder the same thing ... "Where's the mother?" Not that controlling a teenager (even a regular, everyday, not-a-pop-star one like my own) is ever easy. But, you see a train about to wreck — and that train is your daughter — you do something!
Sinead is stepping up to the Miley Cyrus plate here. The letter is long, but fairly literate. And, as she says in her opening, written in "the spirit of motherliness and with love."
Dear Miley,
I wasn’t going to write this letter, but today I’ve been dodging phone calls from various newspapers who wished me to remark upon your having said in Rolling Stone your “Wrecking Ball” video was designed to be similar to the one for “Nothing Compares” … So this is what I need to say … And it is said in the spirit of motherliness and with love.
I am extremely concerned for you that those around you have led you to believe, or encouraged you in your own belief, that it is in any way “cool” to be naked and licking sledgehammers in your videos. It is in fact the case that you will obscure your talent by allowing yourself to be pimped, whether it’s the music business or yourself doing the pimping.
Nothing but harm will come in the long run, from allowing yourself to be exploited, and it is absolutely NOT in ANY way an empowerment of yourself or any other young women, for you to send across the message that you are to be valued (even by you) more for your sexual appeal than your obvious talent.
I am happy to hear I am somewhat of a role model for you and I hope that because of that you will pay close attention to what I am telling you.
None of the men oggling you give a sh– about you either, do not be fooled. Many’s the woman mistook lust for love. If they want you sexually that doesn’t mean they give a f— about you. All the more true when you unwittingly give the impression you don’t give much of a f— about yourself. And when you employ people who give the impression they don’t give much of a f— about you either. No one who cares about you could support your being pimped, and that includes you yourself.
Yes, I’m suggesting you don’t care for yourself. That has to change. You ought be protected as a precious young lady by anyone in your employ and anyone around you, including you. This is a dangerous world. We don’t encourage our daughters to walk around naked in it because it makes them prey for animals and less than animals, a distressing majority of whom work in the music industry and its associated media.
You are worth more than your body or your sexual appeal. The world of showbiz doesn’t see things that way, they like things to be seen the other way, whether they are magazines who want you on their cover, or whatever.. Don’t be under any illusions.. ALL of them want you because they’re making money off your youth and your beauty.. which they could not do except for the fact your youth makes you blind to the evils of show business. If you have an innocent heart you can’t recognise those who do not.
I repeat, you have enough talent that you don’t need to let the music business make a prostitute of you. You shouldn’t let them make a fool of you either. Don’t think for a moment that any of them give a flying f— about you. They’re there for the money.. we’re there for the music. It has always been that way and it will always be that way. The sooner a young lady gets to know that, the sooner she can be REALLY in control.
You also said in Rolling Stone that your look is based on mine. The look I chose, I chose on purpose at a time when my record company were encouraging me to do what you have done. I felt I would rather be judged on my talent and not my looks. I am happy that I made that choice, not least because I do not find myself on the proverbial rag heap now that I am almost 47 yrs of age.. which unfortunately many female artists who have based their image around their sexuality, end up on when they reach middle age.
Real empowerment of yourself as a woman would be to in future refuse to exploit your body or your sexuality in order for men to make money from you. I needn’t even ask the question.. I’ve been in the business long enough to know that men are making more money than you are from you getting naked. It’s really not at all cool. And it’s sending dangerous signals to other young women. Please in future say no when you are asked to prostitute yourself. Your body is for you and your boyfriend. It isn’t for every spunk-spewing dirtbag on the net, or every greedy record company executive to buy his mistresses diamonds with.
As for the shedding of the Hannah Montana image.. whoever is telling you getting naked is the way to do that does absolutely NOT respect your talent, or you as a young lady. Your records are good enough for you not to need any shedding of Hannah Montana. She’s waaaaaaay gone by now. Not because you got naked but because you make great records.
Whether we like it or not, us females in the industry are role models and as such we have to be extremely careful what messages we send to other women. The message you keep sending is that it’s somehow cool to be prostituted.. it’s so not cool Miley.. it’s dangerous. Women are to be valued for so much more than their sexuality. we aren’t merely objects of desire. I would be encouraging you to send healthier messages to your peers.. that they and you are worth more than what is currently going on in your career. Kindly fire any motherf—er who hasn’t expressed alarm, because they don’t care about you.
You've proved your point, Sinead. And, I hope your pop princess protégé heeds your words.
And may I also say, nothing compares 2 u.
(This is only my experience, and I'm sorry that it was because I believe that the successful businesswoman is invariably stereotyped as an unsupportive bee-yotch.)
So, let's assume that there's some truth to the idea that women are threatened by their younger, talented peers. (Who can blame them; historically there hasn't been enough opportunity for women to go around.) How much worse it must be for those in the entertainment industry, where middle-aged is replaced by young, young is replaced by younger, and old is forgotten altogether.
That's why I was heartened this morning to hear about a music industry veteran, reaching out to her younger singer-sister with some caring and constructive criticism. The message (rather riddled with profanity) was sent to (the "f*ck it, it girl" of the moment) Miley Cyrus. And it was written by (the "f*ck it, it girl" of the 90s) Sinead O'Connor.
This is only newsworthy to my generation, I'm afraid. My teenage daughter probably doesn't know who O'Connor is/was. She may have heard "Nothing Compares 2 U" on one of my "adult contemporary" (aka "old lady") radio stations. But, she certainly wouldn't know about the Irish singer's infamous appearance on Saturday Night Live, when she tore up a picture of the Pope in a petulant gesture that was almost as big a waste of time as the outrage that ensued.
Every time some hot young thing goes off the deep end (Britney, Lindsay Lohan, Amanda Bynes), I always wonder the same thing ... "Where's the mother?" Not that controlling a teenager (even a regular, everyday, not-a-pop-star one like my own) is ever easy. But, you see a train about to wreck — and that train is your daughter — you do something!
Sinead is stepping up to the Miley Cyrus plate here. The letter is long, but fairly literate. And, as she says in her opening, written in "the spirit of motherliness and with love."
Dear Miley,
I wasn’t going to write this letter, but today I’ve been dodging phone calls from various newspapers who wished me to remark upon your having said in Rolling Stone your “Wrecking Ball” video was designed to be similar to the one for “Nothing Compares” … So this is what I need to say … And it is said in the spirit of motherliness and with love.
I am extremely concerned for you that those around you have led you to believe, or encouraged you in your own belief, that it is in any way “cool” to be naked and licking sledgehammers in your videos. It is in fact the case that you will obscure your talent by allowing yourself to be pimped, whether it’s the music business or yourself doing the pimping.
Nothing but harm will come in the long run, from allowing yourself to be exploited, and it is absolutely NOT in ANY way an empowerment of yourself or any other young women, for you to send across the message that you are to be valued (even by you) more for your sexual appeal than your obvious talent.
I am happy to hear I am somewhat of a role model for you and I hope that because of that you will pay close attention to what I am telling you.
The music business doesn’t give a sh– about you, or any of us. They will prostitute you for all you are worth, and cleverly make you think its what YOU wanted.. and when you end up in rehab as a result of being prostituted, “they” will be sunning themselves on their yachts in Antigua, which they bought by selling your body and you will find yourself very alone.
None of the men oggling you give a sh– about you either, do not be fooled. Many’s the woman mistook lust for love. If they want you sexually that doesn’t mean they give a f— about you. All the more true when you unwittingly give the impression you don’t give much of a f— about yourself. And when you employ people who give the impression they don’t give much of a f— about you either. No one who cares about you could support your being pimped, and that includes you yourself.
Yes, I’m suggesting you don’t care for yourself. That has to change. You ought be protected as a precious young lady by anyone in your employ and anyone around you, including you. This is a dangerous world. We don’t encourage our daughters to walk around naked in it because it makes them prey for animals and less than animals, a distressing majority of whom work in the music industry and its associated media.
You are worth more than your body or your sexual appeal. The world of showbiz doesn’t see things that way, they like things to be seen the other way, whether they are magazines who want you on their cover, or whatever.. Don’t be under any illusions.. ALL of them want you because they’re making money off your youth and your beauty.. which they could not do except for the fact your youth makes you blind to the evils of show business. If you have an innocent heart you can’t recognise those who do not.
I repeat, you have enough talent that you don’t need to let the music business make a prostitute of you. You shouldn’t let them make a fool of you either. Don’t think for a moment that any of them give a flying f— about you. They’re there for the money.. we’re there for the music. It has always been that way and it will always be that way. The sooner a young lady gets to know that, the sooner she can be REALLY in control.
You also said in Rolling Stone that your look is based on mine. The look I chose, I chose on purpose at a time when my record company were encouraging me to do what you have done. I felt I would rather be judged on my talent and not my looks. I am happy that I made that choice, not least because I do not find myself on the proverbial rag heap now that I am almost 47 yrs of age.. which unfortunately many female artists who have based their image around their sexuality, end up on when they reach middle age.
Real empowerment of yourself as a woman would be to in future refuse to exploit your body or your sexuality in order for men to make money from you. I needn’t even ask the question.. I’ve been in the business long enough to know that men are making more money than you are from you getting naked. It’s really not at all cool. And it’s sending dangerous signals to other young women. Please in future say no when you are asked to prostitute yourself. Your body is for you and your boyfriend. It isn’t for every spunk-spewing dirtbag on the net, or every greedy record company executive to buy his mistresses diamonds with.
As for the shedding of the Hannah Montana image.. whoever is telling you getting naked is the way to do that does absolutely NOT respect your talent, or you as a young lady. Your records are good enough for you not to need any shedding of Hannah Montana. She’s waaaaaaay gone by now. Not because you got naked but because you make great records.
Whether we like it or not, us females in the industry are role models and as such we have to be extremely careful what messages we send to other women. The message you keep sending is that it’s somehow cool to be prostituted.. it’s so not cool Miley.. it’s dangerous. Women are to be valued for so much more than their sexuality. we aren’t merely objects of desire. I would be encouraging you to send healthier messages to your peers.. that they and you are worth more than what is currently going on in your career. Kindly fire any motherf—er who hasn’t expressed alarm, because they don’t care about you.
You've proved your point, Sinead. And, I hope your pop princess protégé heeds your words.
And may I also say, nothing compares 2 u.
If you enjoyed this post, order a copy of my new book Lovin' the Alien at www.lovinthealien.com.
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Friday, September 13, 2013
WWDD (What Would Downton Do?)
Madonna said it in 1984. "We are living in a material world." That's all well and good, but Midge forgot to mention that we are also living in a rushed, rude and often ugly one. I'm not talking about the big problems. I'm talking about the genteel touches — or really, the lack thereof. To quote another famous M (one Ms. Stewart) "Manners matter." If Martha didn't actually say it, she's certainly thought about it. A lot.
Where are all the day-to-day niceties we left behind? I, for one, do my best to maintain them.
For example, this week I have reinstated the formal breakfast tray. Our family doesn't eat breakfast together unless we're on vacation. (Wouldn't that be nice? The eating breakfast together part, not the vacation part. Oh all right, the vacation part too.) My teenage daughter is the first to leave in the morning, while I eat after my walk. I'm not sure when my husband eats. At any rate, while she's putting the finishing touches on her ensemble upstairs, I typically cut her some fruit and prepare some starchy thing (with chocolate in it more often than not: croissant, muffin, waffles, you get the picture). A hot pink "Teen Advantage Vitamin" and a glass of water and ... voila! ... zee breakfast, shee ees served.
This week, I took a moment and went out to our little garden. I snipped some begonias, popped them in a crystal bud vase (wedding present), pulled out a tray, arranged the aforementioned gourmet repast and ... volia! ... breakfast was served with ever so much more class.
My daughter eyed me with a mixture of puzzlement and suspicion.
"It's nice," I told her. "It's like Downton Abbey."
Her expression remained the same but she cocked her head a bit which added to the effect.
"You know," I continued. "Like that time when Lady Mary was getting ready for school and Carson brought her a tray with a chocolate chip cookie dough Pop Tart and some fresh flowers, so she wouldn't have to get off her iPhone and go to the table?"
I was once again reminded that my daughter does not appreciate my considerable wit. Nevertheless, she has had flowers with her breakfast every day since.
This longing for a more refined life is also the reason I insist on beds that are made. This infuriates my daughter to no end. She finds it illogical, as well as "so-o-o annoying!" To me, it's a civilized ritual that marks an evening over, a new day begun. It instills the room with a sense of order and serenity. It has nothing whatsoever to do with my compulsive neatness.
Okay, so it does. Sue me.
"You can do whatever you want when you live on your own," I recite like a broken cliché machine, "In this house, we make the beds."
I did give her a pass for most of the summer. But, back to school means back to bed-making. This, despite having learned from our schooner captain that making a still-warm bed is like sending a backstage all-access pass, V.I.P. open house invitation to dust mites. Eeeeeeew.
I know I can't really roll back the calendar to a more elegant age. And I do live in the present as evidenced by my posts about Miley Cyrus and twerking (which achieved the highest hit rates I've ever had — how sad is that?). But, whether it's flowers on the breakfast tray or smooth sheets and throw pillows, I believe we can make an effort.
What else are we to do in today's graceless world?
Keep calm and ring Carson for tea.
Where are all the day-to-day niceties we left behind? I, for one, do my best to maintain them.
For example, this week I have reinstated the formal breakfast tray. Our family doesn't eat breakfast together unless we're on vacation. (Wouldn't that be nice? The eating breakfast together part, not the vacation part. Oh all right, the vacation part too.) My teenage daughter is the first to leave in the morning, while I eat after my walk. I'm not sure when my husband eats. At any rate, while she's putting the finishing touches on her ensemble upstairs, I typically cut her some fruit and prepare some starchy thing (with chocolate in it more often than not: croissant, muffin, waffles, you get the picture). A hot pink "Teen Advantage Vitamin" and a glass of water and ... voila! ... zee breakfast, shee ees served.
This week, I took a moment and went out to our little garden. I snipped some begonias, popped them in a crystal bud vase (wedding present), pulled out a tray, arranged the aforementioned gourmet repast and ... volia! ... breakfast was served with ever so much more class.
My daughter eyed me with a mixture of puzzlement and suspicion.
"It's nice," I told her. "It's like Downton Abbey."
Her expression remained the same but she cocked her head a bit which added to the effect.
"You know," I continued. "Like that time when Lady Mary was getting ready for school and Carson brought her a tray with a chocolate chip cookie dough Pop Tart and some fresh flowers, so she wouldn't have to get off her iPhone and go to the table?"
I was once again reminded that my daughter does not appreciate my considerable wit. Nevertheless, she has had flowers with her breakfast every day since.
This longing for a more refined life is also the reason I insist on beds that are made. This infuriates my daughter to no end. She finds it illogical, as well as "so-o-o annoying!" To me, it's a civilized ritual that marks an evening over, a new day begun. It instills the room with a sense of order and serenity. It has nothing whatsoever to do with my compulsive neatness.
Okay, so it does. Sue me.
"You can do whatever you want when you live on your own," I recite like a broken cliché machine, "In this house, we make the beds."
I did give her a pass for most of the summer. But, back to school means back to bed-making. This, despite having learned from our schooner captain that making a still-warm bed is like sending a backstage all-access pass, V.I.P. open house invitation to dust mites. Eeeeeeew.
I know I can't really roll back the calendar to a more elegant age. And I do live in the present as evidenced by my posts about Miley Cyrus and twerking (which achieved the highest hit rates I've ever had — how sad is that?). But, whether it's flowers on the breakfast tray or smooth sheets and throw pillows, I believe we can make an effort.
What else are we to do in today's graceless world?
Keep calm and ring Carson for tea.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Can A Twerp Twerk?
In recent months, as the mother of a teenage girl, I have developed a great (okay, an enormous, a colossal, an absolutely frrrrrrkkkin' HUGE) appreciation for perspective.
Keeping things in perspective.
Here's what I'm talkin' about ...
My daughter stayed up later than we agreed and I was a little ... well ... pissed. Perspective: she was in her room. Not at a bar, not in a parking lot, not at the police station.
My daughter no longer likes the (overpriced) jeans she simply had to have. Perspective: we are lucky enough to be able to afford nice things. And, they will earn some much-needed money for the school's thrift shop.
My daughter's room is a mess. Perspective: while I may think of it as a "disaster area," in truth, we live in a safe house on a safe street in a safe town. As you can surmise, we are all safe. I've seen the results of disasters in New Orleans and New Jersey. Her bedroom doesn't really need assistance from FEMA.
"Wah wah wah," I say. Most of our issues are decidedly "first world problems." Especially when you put them in perspective.
So, with this in mind, I've given some more thought to the media storm around Miss Miley Cyrus. Just as there are far worse things than breaking a bedtime curfew, discarding virtually unworn jeans or trudging through piles of crap on a teenager's floor, there are worse things than a misguided young celebrity twerking on an awards show.
Perspective. She's young and pretty and vaguely talented.
How about so-called normal people twerking?
There are people who (without the benefit of Miley's backup dancers), twerk with their dogs and cats. Does this constitute animal abuse? Quite possibly. But that doesn't make it any less popular. "Twogging" is all over YouTube.
I weep for the future.
Then there are the safety hazards inherent in twerking. A video went viral this week of a young woman doing some sexy twerking moves for her boyfriend. (Whatever happened to love letters?) She was hot. I mean, she was really hot. I mean, she was hot, hot hot. On the off chance you didn't already see it (nearly 10 million people have), watch here.
Jimmy Kimmel has since come forward and confessed that the whole thing was a prank. The girlfriend in the video is actually a stuntwoman (good thing). Kimmel explained his motive as he thanked his gullible audience:
"Thank you for helping us deceive the world and hopefully put an end to twerking forever."
Perhaps the most tasteless and offensive of all, there are videos of ... moms twerking. That's right, moms. Oh, the horror!
I confess, I'm a mom and I have been known to twerk — although I didn't know at the time what it was called. I have one Zumba instructor who is an incredible dancer. But her style is not ... shall we say ... balletic. In fact, she channels her inner stripper every time she teaches. And we, her ragtag class of lumpy middle-aged moms, go along for the ride. We bend our knees, we place our hands on our thighs, we shake our booty, hinging front and back, and wagging our tushes for good measure in between. Yes, as sad as it is (and even sadder to watch, I have no doubt), we twerk.
I'm actually pretty good at it. In fact, I'm surprised that the makers of a particular workout video didn't call me to star in the TV spot. I mean, really. Moody teenager, "boring old mom," I could have done it in my sleep.
So, my husband, once he learned what twerking was (my daughter and I staged an impromptu tutorial in the kitchen recently), asked the age-old question:
"Can a twerp tewerk?"
The answer is "Yes." Everyone can twerk.
But that doesn't mean everyone should.
Keeping things in perspective.
Here's what I'm talkin' about ...
My daughter stayed up later than we agreed and I was a little ... well ... pissed. Perspective: she was in her room. Not at a bar, not in a parking lot, not at the police station.
My daughter no longer likes the (overpriced) jeans she simply had to have. Perspective: we are lucky enough to be able to afford nice things. And, they will earn some much-needed money for the school's thrift shop.
My daughter's room is a mess. Perspective: while I may think of it as a "disaster area," in truth, we live in a safe house on a safe street in a safe town. As you can surmise, we are all safe. I've seen the results of disasters in New Orleans and New Jersey. Her bedroom doesn't really need assistance from FEMA.
"Wah wah wah," I say. Most of our issues are decidedly "first world problems." Especially when you put them in perspective.
So, with this in mind, I've given some more thought to the media storm around Miss Miley Cyrus. Just as there are far worse things than breaking a bedtime curfew, discarding virtually unworn jeans or trudging through piles of crap on a teenager's floor, there are worse things than a misguided young celebrity twerking on an awards show.
Perspective. She's young and pretty and vaguely talented.
How about so-called normal people twerking?
There are people who (without the benefit of Miley's backup dancers), twerk with their dogs and cats. Does this constitute animal abuse? Quite possibly. But that doesn't make it any less popular. "Twogging" is all over YouTube.
I weep for the future.
Then there are the safety hazards inherent in twerking. A video went viral this week of a young woman doing some sexy twerking moves for her boyfriend. (Whatever happened to love letters?) She was hot. I mean, she was really hot. I mean, she was hot, hot hot. On the off chance you didn't already see it (nearly 10 million people have), watch here.
Jimmy Kimmel has since come forward and confessed that the whole thing was a prank. The girlfriend in the video is actually a stuntwoman (good thing). Kimmel explained his motive as he thanked his gullible audience:
"Thank you for helping us deceive the world and hopefully put an end to twerking forever."
Perhaps the most tasteless and offensive of all, there are videos of ... moms twerking. That's right, moms. Oh, the horror!
I confess, I'm a mom and I have been known to twerk — although I didn't know at the time what it was called. I have one Zumba instructor who is an incredible dancer. But her style is not ... shall we say ... balletic. In fact, she channels her inner stripper every time she teaches. And we, her ragtag class of lumpy middle-aged moms, go along for the ride. We bend our knees, we place our hands on our thighs, we shake our booty, hinging front and back, and wagging our tushes for good measure in between. Yes, as sad as it is (and even sadder to watch, I have no doubt), we twerk.
I'm actually pretty good at it. In fact, I'm surprised that the makers of a particular workout video didn't call me to star in the TV spot. I mean, really. Moody teenager, "boring old mom," I could have done it in my sleep.
So, my husband, once he learned what twerking was (my daughter and I staged an impromptu tutorial in the kitchen recently), asked the age-old question:
"Can a twerp tewerk?"
The answer is "Yes." Everyone can twerk.
But that doesn't mean everyone should.
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Much Ado About Miley
Right now, Google "Miley Cyrus VMA."
I'll wait.
Nearly a week after her ... um ... controversial performance at the MTV Video Music Awards, the search pulls up 389,000,000 results.
That's right. 389 m-i-l-l-i-o-n.
I've been writing Lovin' the Alien for about two and a half years now. And, if I do say so myself, I have the greatest fans in the world. Not only do they read and share and "like" my posts, but often they suggest new topics for me.
"Did you hear about the push-up bras at Abercrombie Kids?"
"What are you going to say about Corey Monteith?"
This past week, the requests have had a common theme: one former Hannah Montana.
"When are you going to write about Miley Cyrus?"
" 'Can't wait to read what you have to say about Miley Cyrus!"
"What do you think about Miley Cyrus?"
Here's exactly what I think ...
All the media brouhaha surrounding Miley Cyrus is much ado about nothing. Why do I say so? Let me count the ways ...
1. This is nothing new.
MTV's raison d'ĂȘtre is to push the proverbial envelope. They've been doing it since I was in college. (And we all know how long ago that was.) A provocative sexy performance on the MTV Video Music Awards? Ooooh, stop the press! Call the cops!
Puh-lease! It's MTV. What do you expect?
2. Ms. Cyrus is not a child.
The girl may have been in the public eye since she was a tiny tween, but she's technically a grown-up now. If she wants to get up in front of bazillions of viewers and shake, shake (SHAKE!) her booty, that's her business.
Do I think she's made consistently good decisions? Well, no. But we don't want her to stay a child star forever, do we? I mean, haven't you seen Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?
3. It wasn't even that sexy.
For heaven's sake, she was wearing granny panties!
And, if it was too sexy for your youngsters, why are you letting them watch MTV?
4. All of this attention is just drawing more attention.
In a way, I have to laugh. They say 'the only bad publicity is no publicity.' So basically every person who raises his or her voice about this sorry spectacle is just raising the volume. To all of you outraged parents ... have we learned nothing from raising toddlers? If a two-year old is acting insane and you give them more attention, what will they do? Continue to act insane.
The best way to stop this particular insanity would have been to ignore it.
5. The act wasn't even good.
Let's face it, if there's any reason to criticize Miley, it's because her little performance was ridiculous. It began like a Build-A-Bear Workshop on crack. And what was with the tongue? I thought her father was Billy Ray Cyrus, not Gene Simmons.
As for those "shocking" moves? Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't a skinny white girl twerking kind of defeat the purpose?
The entire thing was cringe-worthy. But maybe that isn't the point.
Right about now, Ms. Cyrus is cringing all the way to the bank. This may prove to be a most brilliant career move.
And, if Miley does regret it, she needn't worry. Something equally stupid will take this story's place before too long.
Because if there's one thing we can count on even more than our society's obsession with the lewd ...
it's our collective attention deficit disorder.
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