The Perfect Man?

So, first off, let me just say I adore my hubby. I'm very happy, in love and actually am quite happy to say I still lust after my own hubby after being married to the guy for 10 years.

But then there's Hugh. :)

So if I was one of those kinds of gals that had "the list" - you know the list of guys you'd bang the daylights out of before you die if you ever get the chance and dear hubby would just have to give you a freebie... that list - if I had a list, you bet your sweet patootie Hugh Jackman would be on it.

The guy is obviously talented, and who doesn't like a guy who loves his kids? But his latest stunt is pretty much what sealed the deal.

One might be thinking - WWF, WTF? But yes, the star of stage and screen has lent his talents to Wrestling, and actually caused damage to a professional wrestler.

I would also like to clarify that it's not the violence that gets him on the list, no it's the fact that he's both good and "bad" - you know, just the knowledge that he could kick someones ass for you if you needed him too - yep, list-worthy quality.

So I ask you readers - if you were a "list" kind of person - would Hugh make your list?

Summit versus childbirth...

Well, Dad (the blogger) suggested I write about my 14'er adventure and he's right. It's definitely a blog-worthy experience. He keeps irritatingly referring to it as a "peak" experience.

The big question on the early part of our ascent - when we were still jovial - was whether climbing a 14'er (a Colorado mountain of at least 14,000 feet) would be tougher than childbirth. Well, full disclosure, I had an epidural both times and thoroughly enjoyed the birth experience. (I know that makes me a freak.) Let me highlight here why sumitting La Plata Peak (considered a very easy peak) was infinitely more of a challenge.

1. There are no talus slopes in childbirth.

If you're not sure what a talus slope is, imagine a thousand medium sized, unstable, accursed boulders piled up so high you actually can't see the top. It's surmountable, but only just.

2. You don't usually hate your Dad during childbirth. (Your husband, maybe.)

If you're wierd like me, your Dad might be present during the birth of your child. But you don't viscerally hate your Dad at that moment. No, it's a triumphant, joyous, Lion-King thing. You proclaim "Dad! He's got your chin!" Not, "Exactly how much of your unfortunate genetic makeup did I inherit, you suicidal old fool?"

3. There is enough oxygen for a proper cry during childbirth.

Not so above 13,000 feet. Not enough oxygen to hyperventilate or have a panic attack either. I know. I tried. There's not even enough oxygen to eat your peanut candybar, though it is the only thing you've ingested since your 6am stop at the gas station for a reconstituted egg sandwich eight hours ago.

4. There are no false summits in childbirth.

It may take forever, but generally once the kid is crowning, you've made it to the final stretch. When the doctor says "three good strong pushes," he doesn't mean push hard three times and then whoaaa Nellie! There's another effing hour to go!

5. There is no lightning in childbirth.

Much less giant swords of lightning striking neighboring peaks while you - wretched fool that you are - are scurrying across a broad, 13,000 foot high ridge, nearly the tallest thing around. And when I say scurrying, I don't mean in an orderly, mouselike way. I mean flailing your puny human arms and legs for all you're worth, like a couple of hapless hobbits fleeing Mordor with a goddamn golden ring.

And now, a couple of ways that climbing a 14'er is strikingly similar to giving birth.

• Once you've done it, you enter a strangely exclusive club. You've crossed over. You belong.
• The only membership requirement is that you've done it... no one cares how gracefully (or pathetically).
• You can't entirely describe how difficult an endurance challenge it was when people ask.
• You wouldn't know quite how to tell someone to prepare (although bringing more than 20 ounces of water along is a good start).
• There may be both tears and hysteria.
• A good coach who believes in you is essential.
• Both feats may well end with you in the hospital.
• Only the ignorant dismiss it as a non-accomplishment.

Stop Taking my Words Away

A few weeks ago I saw a PSA on TV that urged people to stop using the “r-word” comparing it to ethic slurs like Kike and Spic, and by the “r-word” the ad meant retard. I am all for not hurting people’s feelings and treating those who are different from you with the respect and dignity that all human beings deserve. I cannot however wholeheartedly endorse this message because unlike Kike or Spic. Retard is not a slang word invented to denigrate an entire class of people. It is actual word in the English language that means:







verb (used with object) to make slow; delay the development or progress of (an action, process, etc.); hinder or impede. –verb (used without object) to be delayed. -noun - a slowing down, diminution, or hindrance, as in a machine. Automotive, Machinery . an adjustment made in the setting of the distributor of an internal-combustion engine so that the spark for ignition in each cylinder is generated later in the cycle.







While retard can be used in a derogatory fashion in reference to another person it is not a word like Kike or Spic which have no meaning beyond being an insulting term for a Jew or a person of Spanish descent. This is where the PSA went wrong. Instead of focusing on the word, why not focus on how it is being used. Maybe instead of banning perfectly legitimate words we should be teaching manners and etiquette, and letting people know that they should chose their words carefully. Because according to the definition above, I could describe a car as retarded, and it may not be an insult at all. So instead of creating a word police and chopping up the beautiful, messy and tasty gumbo that is the English language into an unrecognizable mush that, while it may be easier to digest, is bland and unappetizing, we should try to be better people with diverse vocabularies who do not need or want to resort to using retard as an insult.

Stumbling toward political correctness

As someone born in the 1970s, I experienced a lot of vernacular usage of the word "gay" and the word "retarded." I participated wholeheartedly in same.

Now that both of these slang terms have been identified as offensive slurs -- complete with public service announcement and mea culpa from Lady Gaga -- I have striven to remove them from my vocabulary. (Except for, as my excellent friend points out, literal usage. I mean, I hope it's still OK to compliment someone on their gay apparel? At least when accompanied by a hearty "Fa-la-la?")

I slip up occasionally. Just the other day, I used the word retarded. I immediately slapped my hand over my mouth and apologized, but still. But anyone who was the appropriate age when, say, the movie Valley Girls came out, or who ever had a poster of DuranDuran taped to their wall, knows that these two words took up an inordinate amount of real estate in our developing vocabularies. Old habits die hard.

It's easy to grow weary of the PC police. I mean, the front line coppers in the realm of disabilities have called for us to eliminate the terms "developmentally disabled" and even "blind." (I believe the correct term for both is now "differently abled.") I get where they're coming from. I truly do. But it can be difficult for even the most well-meaning person to keep up with what's potentially offensive.

Wearily, I will admit that this is probably exactly how my grandparents felt about the words "negro" and "colored person."

"What do you mean, that's offensive?" (I can hear Grandpa grumbling.) "It's a perfectly nice thing to say!" (Yeah, about 15 years ago, Gramps.) So maybe my withering wits are just incapable of keeping perfect track of the twists and turns of today's cultural linguistics. Or maybe I'm growing old and stubborn, stuck in my ways. Or maybe the demands of the PC police really are getting just a bit out of hand.

God forbid anyone's feelings get bruised in the Millennium Of Sensitivity.

Are You There Oprah? It's Me Mary....

Dear Oprah,

Today you aired the final episode of your talk show which has been a staple of daytime television for 25 years. For most of my life you have been on TV, dear Oprah, and although I have not been a regular viewer, I always been an admirer, a student, and yes a fan. In fact my friends and I used to say when we were in our early 20’s and just out of college that we did not want to be one step closer to God, we wanted to be one step closer to Oprah. You took whatever stinking wretched circumstance that life gave you and planted a seed that you nurtured into an amazing garden full of beauty, life, and hope. With this garden you managed to feed a world of hearts, minds, and souls. I found myself watching your show today, tears streaming down my cheeks ( I am a bit of a sap), and I knew there was so much I wanted to say to you. First and foremost I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for answering your calling. Thank you for sharing your ideas and wisdom with your audience. Thank you for making our differences something that unites us instead of dividing us. There are few real people that I can truly say that I wholeheartedly admire and respect in this world. Public figures so often disappoint because they try too hard to be perfect, to be what they thought world wanted or needed them to be. You have only ever been Oprah and what you are is miraculous. Secondly Oprah, I would like to say it has been my pleasure. You devoted an hour to saying thank you to the world today and I want you to know that it has been a joy, a blessing, and a wonder. You have entertained and educated and made the world a little better than how you found it. Today I had a thought, “what if there had never been an Oprah?”, and I wrote a little poem about it.

What if there had never been an Oprah?
Would the light seem a little dimmer?
Would we be a less wise, less caring, and less free?
What if there had never been an Oprah?
Would colors be a little duller?
Would we be less united, less educated, and less unafraid?
What if there had never been an Oprah?
The world would be a little smaller, a little meaner,and
a lot colder.
What if there had never been an Oprah?
I, for one, am grateful that I will never have to know.

In conclusion, my dear dear Oprah, I would like to end with something from Lennon and McCartney. “And in the end the love you make is equal to the love you take.” Thank you for the love Oprah and you’re welcome.

A desperate stab at cultural relevance

Ahhh, the new Beastie Boys album: Hot Sauce Committee Part Two.

Nice try, Boys, but the single listen-able track on the entire album (#7-Don't Play No Game That I Can't Win) sounds like a mediocre Thrill Kill Cult track from the 90's.

More disturbing is the fact that you re-worked the classic "Fight for Your Right (to Party)" into a new song. The barely recognizable send-up of your own former anthem sent chills up my arms... for all the wrong reasons. Instead of the intended ironic tweak at your "roots," it listens more like a desperate stab at cultural relevance. Note to collective selves: Don't mess with "Brass Monkey."

Your marketing machine deserves some kudos, however. What hasn't evolved musically (well, it's evolved, just perhaps not in an impressive way) about your charming little group has certainly evolved business-wise. After all, the appearances, notices, reviews and general industry "noise" convinced my hubby to buy your latest work.

Or perhaps that was primarily motivated by his own, private, stab at cultural relevance.

This is the Way the World Ends?

According to some rabid Christians driving across the country in RVs, the end days are upon us. In fact, they begin on this coming Saturday May 21st. These zealots point to biblical proof that at 6pm on Saturday the faithful will be raptured, or taken bodily into Heaven, by God. This will leave the imperfect, the sinners, behind on earth to face massive earthquakes and a hell-like war between the forces of good led by one Mr. Jesus Christ and the forces of evil led by the Anti-Christ (so I guess Dick Cheney is going to come back to public “service”). As many faithful Snarklet readers know, the Apocalypse an interest of this blog, but I am not pulling together a survival kit or stocking up on ammo, plastic sheeting and duct tape. Because, dear readers, I don’t believe this is the real thing. First of all the bible is not a good source for concrete information of any kind. It is a book with many authors and drawn from many sources throughout human history. It is not an Ouija board. Second of all, the rapture cannot happen on Saturday because of Oprah. What does Oprah have to do with it? Good question. Think about Oprah. A woman who has given back to the world more than or as much as she has gained from it. She has used her media platform to educate and enlighten the world and to bring people of all races, religions and walks of life closer together. So if anyone deserves to be taken bodily into Heaven, it is Oprah Winfrey, and the reason it won’t happen on Saturday is because that day just won’t work for her. On May 25th the final episode of Oprah’s talk show airs. A star studded occasion that boasts ad prices of Super Bowl proportions, and there is no way that Oprah is going to miss that. She knows that her faithful fans deserve this final goodbye before she exits the syndicated talk show stage forever, and she is going to give it to them. The rapture can wait until Oprah has time for it.

Politics versus governance

How exciting to be the nation’s Petri dish on union-busting… everyone from the New York Times to Rush Limbaugh has something to say about the protests in Madison, Wisconsin and from my birds-eye view of the capitol square, I must admit I’ve not seen anything quite like it in my 20 years in this city.

As someone intensely interested in both state government and perception management, I am watching this debate with relish. Choosing sides is less simple, as the talking points espoused by lefties and righties alike both oversimplify and exaggerate what’s truly happening.

The far right wants you to believe that pampered state employees - - especially teachers, those spoiled whiners - - are protesting simply because they’ve been asked to contribute more of their take home pay toward pensions and health benefits.

The far left wants you to believe that unions are the answer to everyone’s employment woes; that without organized labor, we’d all be reduced to working under sweatshop conditions.

The right is doing a good job of whipping working class private sector employee resentment into a frothy lather while the left is screeching “class warfare” like we’re talking about day laborers, not well-educated professionals.

The truth is, this battle is about nothing less than de-clawing some of the most powerful liberal organizers in Wisconsin and reducing them to impotence. It’s literally a fight to re-balance the odds for the next round of elections.

It’s politics masquerading as governance.

As a fiscal conservative, I like to think that I’m part of the “mandate” that the right is claiming these days. The state’s broke. I know too many unemployed people. And my paycheck has stayed the same as I’ve watched my property taxes go up along with my heating bill, grocery bill and gas bill. I’m smart enough to know what a structural deficit is and I want it fixed.

I was hoping the people I helped to put into office would do something about these issues. Instead, they appear to be strategizing new and exciting ways to keep themselves in power indefinitely and using the relatively minor budget shortfall as cover. (They’re not even patient enough to wait for the real fiscal crisis that is looming just around the corner!)

Let’s get real. Making Wisconsin a “right to work” state has no business being rolled into an emergency budget bill, to be reviewed and passed within a week. The concessions that the Governor is asking for are nowhere near enough to solve the actual budget crisis. Nor are they the only way to solve it. Nor were unionized employees given a reasonable opportunity to say “yea” or “nay” to them.

This fight isn’t about the immediate wages and benefits, but about the political right eviscerating one of their most powerful enemies, the unions. It’s a poorly messaged power grab, aimed at making the next election cycle a little less challenging for those currently in power. In other words, it’s politics as usual.

Political pashas using the “mandate” of the people to push through bad legislation in the blink of an eye. Sound familiar? It’s the same thing President Obama and his newly minted majority did with the health care bill at the federal level.

That Governor Walker was naïve enough to make a mirror-image misstep within weeks of taking office shows he is seasoned at politics… and poor at governance. It might be solidifying the Republican base, but it’s costing some political capital, it’s putting the Senate and House majorities at risk, and it’s uniting the left and a bunch of others who see a shallow political move for what it is.

Slow down. Check your ego. Focus on real solutions. Wisconsinites are by and large not ideologues. We’re practical, honest, hardworking people. Don’t delude yourself that you have a mandate to conduct politics as usual, because THAT is what we vote out. The voters of this state are not all dumb. And we are watching.

Disappointing "cuisine"

One would think that a menu item temptingly named "Five Cheese Rigtoni" would include a discernable (if not generous) amount of actual CHEESE.  Alas, my lunch today appears to be a small pile of noodles, a dollop of red sauce, and a glob or two of whitish cheeselike substance.  I suspect, upon tasting it, that it is the dreaded "reduced fat cheese," which as any food lover knows was never meant to exist, much less melt in a pleasing way when heated.

I know that my expecations should be checked.  After all, it's a microwavable meal.  And worse, it's being marketed as - - brilliant oxymoron - - "lean cuisine". 

I submit that cuisine does not necessarily have to be fattening.  However, anything purporting to that elevated descriptor should not be the least little bit concerned with calorie counts.  Just call it "spa chow" if you're going to plop a half-sized portion of something vaguely trendy and wholly unsatisfying looking down on my microwavable plastic tray.

A tempting, delicious-sounding name might be enough to get the box from the freezer shelf to my grocery cart once.  But not a second time.  Frozen pot pies cost half as much and I find them far more satisfying.

New Year - New Start

Well Dear Snarklet readers, another year has ended, and I think it is time for a little reflection and housecleaning. 2010 had its high points like the birth of this fun little blog, and its low points like Bristol Palin on Dancing with the Stars. (She is NOT a star. In fact that show routinely stretches the definition of star so badly out of proportion that it is becomes a meaningless word, but that is the subject for another article.) Anyway, it occurred to me that there are some things we should just leave behind in 2010. Let’s really start this new year fresh and try to, against overwhelming odds, fulfill the promise of a brand new start. What follows is a list of all the top 5 things I would like to leave behind in 2010. Please feel free to add anything in the comments that you feel I may have missed.

1. New Jersey. Can we please stop airing shows about people from this state? If you believe the Jersey Shore, The Real Housewives of New Jersey, Jerseylicious, and The Sopranos, this state is populated with nothing by psychotic mobsters and idiotic bimbos and himbos who spend all their time tanning and partying. I would hope that the people of this state could develop a little self respect in 2011, and like Lindsey Lohan has done recently, spend the next 12 months lying low and reforming their image.


2. Sexting . So you want to engage in a little dirty talk with a significant other or maybe just that cutie you met at the bar last night. Nothing wrong with that impulse, it’s normal and can be kind of fun. In a committed relationship it can deepen your intimacy and lead to exploring new and exciting things with your partner. Unfortunately that is not what sexting is or does. Sexting is about broadcasting your intentions to the world by leaving a written record of all your kinky little fantasies. In the case of celebrities, gives the public TMI about their sex lives when the media gets a hold of them. C’mon we all know cell phones are not a private form of communication and texts can be traced very easily, besides a little dirty talk is always better face to face.


3. Skanky Mistresses of Celebrities. So he was a jerk and cheated on his wife with a tattooed Nazi stripper, it happens. What I object to is these females getting their 15 minutes of fame. Do the world a favor and crawl into a hole and hide. Don’t talk to the media and they will go away. Don’t try to set the record straight and act like you have something to say. You did a bad thing. You messed with someone else’s life and helped create a horrible situation. There is no justification for that. Keep what little dignity you may still possess and go away.


4. Gloria Allred. Lawyer and spokeswoman for the above mentioned skanky mistresses, why doesn’t she just go back to real lawyer work and stop being a fame whore? Why are you wasting your time representing these women who are, at best, abysmally stupid? They don’t need legal representation. They need a reality check.


5. The Palins. Every last member of this family needs to go back to the frozen tundra of Alaska and stay there. They are annoying and offer nothing of value to the world other than divisive political rhetoric and an insatiable thirst for the spotlight.

If You Like my Body & U WNT 2 TXT ME

Listening to the oldies station recently, I picked up on an interesting line in the song “If You Want My Body, and You Think I’m Sexy” a classic Rod Stewart song. The line went, “Give me a dime, so I can phone my mother.” It made me chuckle. How many younger people these days would even understand that line? How old does one have to be to remember public pay telephones that only cost a dime?
The other part that made me laugh was the fact that a boy was going to call his mother before he spent the night with a woman. Who does that? And how would that conversation go? “Uh, Mom, yeah. I’m going home with this chick because she wants my body and thinks I’m sexy, uh, so don’t wait up.” Is such a call a courteous custom that people practiced 30 years ago? I’m sure these days it would be a text.
Speaking of which, just recently in the school where I teach we have decided to grant students more freedom to text, as if they didn’t already have it. Now they are allowed to text at lunch and between classes. So really it means that now we don’t have to enforce those rules that no one was enforcing anyway. The idea is that granting them such a privilege will make it less likely that they will be texting during forbidden times (during classes) or in forbidden places (like the bathrooms and locker rooms – the worry here is about phones that take photos).
The student council was given the job of presenting this new privilege to the student body, and they made fancy posters urging students not to abuse it and warning them that if they did, their fellow students could turn them in by “anonymous email” to a teacher. Huh? Wait a minute! Something’s not right there. How does one send an anonymous email? And even if there were a way, a teacher taking the word of an anonymous someone as proof is worse than taking the word of the class tattle tale. The other part of the poster that most students will see right through is the fact that the consequences for abusing this privilege are basically the same as they were before with the added consequence of having to serve a detention with the teacher in whose class the cell phone was used. Yeah right! I’m going to serve detention based on an anonymous email tip!?! I guess the student council is either pretty clueless or freaking brilliant, depending on how you look at it.
Well, I hate to sound grumpy, old, and out of touch, but were we just as stupid and devious when we were kids? Maybe we were, but at least we had manners and would call our parents on those dime public pay phones if we weren’t coming home, and they were rotary dial phones too! Let’s see the younger generation try texting with one of those! They may come to understand the hardships of our youth, and how we walked uphill to school both ways…sigh…it’s hard getting old.

Let's welcome a new contributor for our first post of the new year. This article is courtesy of AJWanty!