I would not naturally describe myself as an extreme optimist. That's not to say I'm a pessimist either. I prefer to think of myself as a realist. Things are rarely as good or as bad as folks think. However, I lately have found myself not being as "realistic" as I might want to be.
Last Monday, I underwent a testing procedure known as a lumbar puncture. Just the sound of it is bad - puncture. Despite being warned by the physician who did the procedure and a number of people who have had this done, I figured "How bad can it be?" After a week of head-splitting headaches, culminating in another procedure known as a blood patch - which eliminated most of the pain, but not all - I can answer that question. It can be pretty damn bad. I always knew having needles stuck in my back was a bad idea.
This is not a new facet of my personality however. Seven years ago when I became pregnant with The Girl, I was warned about morning sickness. I read about it, people told me about it, my mother counseled me. "How bad can it be?" I wondered. Hm, there's that phrase again. I threw up 9-10 times a day for the next 4 months, and 1-2 times a day after that. I was hospitalized for dehydration. Slightly less than two years later when I got pregnant with The Boy, I should have been prepared. It couldn't be worse, right? Uh yeah it could - and it was.
I am not sure, however, that this trait is unique to me. I'm beginning to think it afflicts most people. There seems to be something in human nature that prevents us from really recognizing how bad a situation can be. At least, most of us in most situations. Think about it. How many times have you or people around you said, "It can't get any worse, right?" And how many times have you been wrong? I thought so.
I think it's natural protection. If we were truly aware of how bad things could be, we'd be mired in depression, unable to function. But something in us always - or almost always - wants to find the upside in things. Even people who describe themselves as cynics will try and look on the bright side. At least some of the time. Maybe that's why clinical depression truly is a disease. It runs counter to human nature. We weren't built to be depressed.
Of course this doesn't mean we weren't built to be sad. Sadness is part of the human condition. If you aren't ever sad, how can you appreciate being happy? And without looking forward to something better, how do you get through the rough patches?
I suppose that acceptance of this human condition does make me a realist. And that's a good thing. It's not healthy to wallow in negativity, but neither is it good to ignore it completely. Just do me a favor, okay? The next time I say "How bad can it be," just say "Remember that lumbar puncture?" I'll remember, I promise.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Things Parents Say
When you have kids, you automatically sign up to say certain things. It's just a part of parenting. I think once conception happens, Nature trips a part of the genetic code - in both mothers and fathers - that prepares them to utter any number of things that parents have said for centuries.
- Don't run with scissors
- Don't touch the stove
- Don't play with matches
- Don't hit your sister/brother
The list goes on. A lot of basic safety and good conduct stuff. Then there are the things that your parents said to you. You know the stuff you swore you'd never say to your kids.
- Because I said so
- I'm the parent, that's why
And the ever popular, "If all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you want to do that too? Don't kid yourselves my friends. If you have kids, one day you will say something that will make you go, "Oh my god, I've become my mother/father." Trust me, it will happen. Just do it and get it over with.
This is all well and good, but it still doesn't fully prepare you. Because you will also find yourself saying things you never in your life thought you would say. Your beloved offspring will do something so arcane and unexpected, you will find yourself thinking, "I can't believe I need to say this!" Some examples below.
"Stop hitting your friend over the head with a hot dog roll."
Yes, this gem came out at The Boy's birthday party. We were at the neighborhood pool and grilling hot dogs and hamburgers. Now, I am always prepared to tell my son not to hit people with sticks or toys. But as I looked up, he was bouncing a hot dog bun off his friend's head. The friend was not helping matters by laughing hysterically. As I uttered my admonishment, I turned to another mother: "Now there's something I never thought I'd say." She was sympathetic. But the truth is, kids do weird things and any object can become a toy - sticks, the water hose, leaves, and yes, even hot dog buns.
"Don't eat all the vegetables."
Most parents cannot imagine ever needing to admonish their kids to not eat vegetables. I mean, isn't that a part of the Childhood Code of Conduct? Thou shalt not willingly eat vegetables (especially green ones)? And yet, things happen. Recently my employer partnered with a local company to offer a "virtual farmers' market" at my office. You order over the Internet and on Friday your goodies are delivered right to your work place. It's absolutely brilliant; fresh grown veggies, fruits, artisan breads, gourmet pastas all with the click of a mouse. So a couple weeks ago I bring home a pound bag of whole green beans. The kids fell to with enthusiasm. Fantastic. Except three nights later, they came home from school, went directly to the fridge, pulled out the bag and started eating. "Hey, don't eat all the vegetables! We won't have anything for dinner!" The Hubby and I looked at each other. "Did you ever think you'd have to say that?" "Nope."
"Please, play on the computer."
In an age where kids are obese at earlier and earlier ages, this is a no brainer. Hours in front of the TV or a computer have robbed kids of the need - or indeed the desire - to play outside. Right? Um, maybe. My two spend a fair amount of time outside simply because we don't allow them in the house on nice days, especially as "nice days" are numbered in Pittsburgh in the fall. However, The Boy has to wear a patch over one eye for 30 minutes a day. The eye doctor wants him to wear it when he has to do something that requires a lot of visual stimulation. Needless to say, The Boy detests wearing a patch and tries to avoid it all costs. "You have to wear your eye patch." "No, I don't want to." "If you put it on, I'll let you play on the computer for an extra 30 minutes." "No, I don't want to." Yes, ladies and gentlemen. I was begging my kid to play on the computer, not to get off it. Amazing.
These are only a few examples. I'm sure there are others. I'm sure I'll say more. I'm sure that if I opened up submissions to parents across the globe, I'd get some real humdingers. And if I collected them all up in book form, it would probably be a New York Times #1 Best Seller. It's just a part of parenting.
Erma Bombeck would be proud.
- Don't run with scissors
- Don't touch the stove
- Don't play with matches
- Don't hit your sister/brother
The list goes on. A lot of basic safety and good conduct stuff. Then there are the things that your parents said to you. You know the stuff you swore you'd never say to your kids.
- Because I said so
- I'm the parent, that's why
And the ever popular, "If all your friends jumped off a bridge, would you want to do that too? Don't kid yourselves my friends. If you have kids, one day you will say something that will make you go, "Oh my god, I've become my mother/father." Trust me, it will happen. Just do it and get it over with.
This is all well and good, but it still doesn't fully prepare you. Because you will also find yourself saying things you never in your life thought you would say. Your beloved offspring will do something so arcane and unexpected, you will find yourself thinking, "I can't believe I need to say this!" Some examples below.
"Stop hitting your friend over the head with a hot dog roll."
Yes, this gem came out at The Boy's birthday party. We were at the neighborhood pool and grilling hot dogs and hamburgers. Now, I am always prepared to tell my son not to hit people with sticks or toys. But as I looked up, he was bouncing a hot dog bun off his friend's head. The friend was not helping matters by laughing hysterically. As I uttered my admonishment, I turned to another mother: "Now there's something I never thought I'd say." She was sympathetic. But the truth is, kids do weird things and any object can become a toy - sticks, the water hose, leaves, and yes, even hot dog buns.
"Don't eat all the vegetables."
Most parents cannot imagine ever needing to admonish their kids to not eat vegetables. I mean, isn't that a part of the Childhood Code of Conduct? Thou shalt not willingly eat vegetables (especially green ones)? And yet, things happen. Recently my employer partnered with a local company to offer a "virtual farmers' market" at my office. You order over the Internet and on Friday your goodies are delivered right to your work place. It's absolutely brilliant; fresh grown veggies, fruits, artisan breads, gourmet pastas all with the click of a mouse. So a couple weeks ago I bring home a pound bag of whole green beans. The kids fell to with enthusiasm. Fantastic. Except three nights later, they came home from school, went directly to the fridge, pulled out the bag and started eating. "Hey, don't eat all the vegetables! We won't have anything for dinner!" The Hubby and I looked at each other. "Did you ever think you'd have to say that?" "Nope."
"Please, play on the computer."
In an age where kids are obese at earlier and earlier ages, this is a no brainer. Hours in front of the TV or a computer have robbed kids of the need - or indeed the desire - to play outside. Right? Um, maybe. My two spend a fair amount of time outside simply because we don't allow them in the house on nice days, especially as "nice days" are numbered in Pittsburgh in the fall. However, The Boy has to wear a patch over one eye for 30 minutes a day. The eye doctor wants him to wear it when he has to do something that requires a lot of visual stimulation. Needless to say, The Boy detests wearing a patch and tries to avoid it all costs. "You have to wear your eye patch." "No, I don't want to." "If you put it on, I'll let you play on the computer for an extra 30 minutes." "No, I don't want to." Yes, ladies and gentlemen. I was begging my kid to play on the computer, not to get off it. Amazing.
These are only a few examples. I'm sure there are others. I'm sure I'll say more. I'm sure that if I opened up submissions to parents across the globe, I'd get some real humdingers. And if I collected them all up in book form, it would probably be a New York Times #1 Best Seller. It's just a part of parenting.
Erma Bombeck would be proud.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Mother Teresa and I
The death of Mother Teresa in 1997 touched a lot of people across the globe. The wrinkled old nun who worked in the slums of Calcutta inspired a lot of people. She seemed to exude the very essence of spirituality, peace, and connectedness to God. Winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, she taught by gentle example how people should treat each other. People across the globe, Catholic and non-Catholic, were inspired by her example, even as she remained humble about her work. It was unsurprising, therefore, how fast the Roman Catholic Church moved to beatify her and even less surprising at how many people are working for her canonization.
All of this made the revelation of her personal letters, many of which articulated a profound "spiritual darkness" and feeling disconnected from God very surprising to a lot of people. How could Mother Teresa, of all people, feel that God was ignoring her? If anybody in the last century had lived life in the path of Christ, it was Mother Teresa. If Mother Teresa felt this way, what hope is there for the rest of us?
I've never particularly felt as though Mother Teresa and I had much in common, apart from being Catholic that is. I don't work with the poor and I've never taken a vow of poverty. I certainly don't have her calm, gentle demeanor, or seemingly infinite patience. I don't think you could examine the globe and find two women more different.
But lately, I feel very connected to Mother Teresa. For most of my adult life, I would describe myself as being pretty spiritual. I found a great connectedness to my faith and God when I was in college with the Franciscan order. My faith got me through the death of my mother, the deaths of my grandparents, and a 15-month separation from The Hubby. Whenever I've alone or afraid, it's been a rock I can lean on.
Lately, the rock isn't so strong. In fact, doesn't seem to be there at all. I feel sort of lost and disconnected from the very thing I've relied on to keep me grounded. And it's not fun. It's also very disturbing. I feel like a piece of driftwood floating down whitewater, swirling around and bumping off the rocks. A boat with no anchor. Yes, that's a few mixed metaphors. Cut me a break.
Frankly, I'm kind of angry about it. I rarely ask for anything for myself. I've prayed for my family, friends, friends of friends, and people I've never met. I volunteer at my kids' school, with The Girl's Scout troop, and our parish festival. I've participated in food drives and book drives, and every other kind of drive.
None of this is meant to say "Look at me" or toot my own horn. Lots of other people do exactly the same things, and even more. The point is it's not as though I go through life only concerned about myself. I don't even expect payback. I do all this stuff because I really want to do it. It makes me feel good, and it many cases it's even fun.
I would think, however, that when I do ask for something I deserve at least a response. Six weeks after being diagnosed with vertigo (Stop the World), I'm still dizzy. Not so much, now I can actually drive, but walking a straight line can still be a challenge. For the past week, I've had bouts of double vision (talk about something that is very disorienting). All I want is to go back to being able to play soccer with my kids and read them a story at bed time. That's it. I don't want to be able to run a marathon, or some other stupid thing. I just want some parts of my life that I really enjoyed to come back.
I've prayed pretty consistently over the past six weeks - to God, to Christ, to every saint I can think of, even to my own mother. As I'm stuck in this rut of dizziness and double images, I can only say I don't appear to be getting a response. Yeah, I know. The response you want isn't always the one you get. But I don't even get the sense that anybody is listening. As I told someone earlier today, "God appears to be too busy for me."
I've got well-intentioned friends, some religious and some not, who'd say I am overreacting. My own brother has referred to "my imaginary friend." I suppose to them this may seem like a lot of fuss over nothing, but for me it's quite real. And I'm hurt, and angry, and spiritually alone. It sucks.
Traditional wisdom in these matters says I have to stop fighting things and put it in God's hands. I've tried that - at least I think I have. What else does "God please help me" mean? I'm quite familiar with the concept that God doesn't give us what we can't handle, but is He trying to break me here? Because if so, I'm feeling pretty broken. Feeling whole would be really good right now.
Mother Teresa felt the same way, I guess. She somehow managed to keep going. Maybe she was stronger than I am. I don't know. I do know I could use a bone here, something small just to let me know I'm not all alone. Let's say we start small - I'll stay dizzy if I could just see straight.
Yeah, I know. God's not a deal maker. Maybe I just need to read copies of those letters. You know coin a new phrase - What Would Mother Teresa Do?
All of this made the revelation of her personal letters, many of which articulated a profound "spiritual darkness" and feeling disconnected from God very surprising to a lot of people. How could Mother Teresa, of all people, feel that God was ignoring her? If anybody in the last century had lived life in the path of Christ, it was Mother Teresa. If Mother Teresa felt this way, what hope is there for the rest of us?
I've never particularly felt as though Mother Teresa and I had much in common, apart from being Catholic that is. I don't work with the poor and I've never taken a vow of poverty. I certainly don't have her calm, gentle demeanor, or seemingly infinite patience. I don't think you could examine the globe and find two women more different.
But lately, I feel very connected to Mother Teresa. For most of my adult life, I would describe myself as being pretty spiritual. I found a great connectedness to my faith and God when I was in college with the Franciscan order. My faith got me through the death of my mother, the deaths of my grandparents, and a 15-month separation from The Hubby. Whenever I've alone or afraid, it's been a rock I can lean on.
Lately, the rock isn't so strong. In fact, doesn't seem to be there at all. I feel sort of lost and disconnected from the very thing I've relied on to keep me grounded. And it's not fun. It's also very disturbing. I feel like a piece of driftwood floating down whitewater, swirling around and bumping off the rocks. A boat with no anchor. Yes, that's a few mixed metaphors. Cut me a break.
Frankly, I'm kind of angry about it. I rarely ask for anything for myself. I've prayed for my family, friends, friends of friends, and people I've never met. I volunteer at my kids' school, with The Girl's Scout troop, and our parish festival. I've participated in food drives and book drives, and every other kind of drive.
None of this is meant to say "Look at me" or toot my own horn. Lots of other people do exactly the same things, and even more. The point is it's not as though I go through life only concerned about myself. I don't even expect payback. I do all this stuff because I really want to do it. It makes me feel good, and it many cases it's even fun.
I would think, however, that when I do ask for something I deserve at least a response. Six weeks after being diagnosed with vertigo (Stop the World), I'm still dizzy. Not so much, now I can actually drive, but walking a straight line can still be a challenge. For the past week, I've had bouts of double vision (talk about something that is very disorienting). All I want is to go back to being able to play soccer with my kids and read them a story at bed time. That's it. I don't want to be able to run a marathon, or some other stupid thing. I just want some parts of my life that I really enjoyed to come back.
I've prayed pretty consistently over the past six weeks - to God, to Christ, to every saint I can think of, even to my own mother. As I'm stuck in this rut of dizziness and double images, I can only say I don't appear to be getting a response. Yeah, I know. The response you want isn't always the one you get. But I don't even get the sense that anybody is listening. As I told someone earlier today, "God appears to be too busy for me."
I've got well-intentioned friends, some religious and some not, who'd say I am overreacting. My own brother has referred to "my imaginary friend." I suppose to them this may seem like a lot of fuss over nothing, but for me it's quite real. And I'm hurt, and angry, and spiritually alone. It sucks.
Traditional wisdom in these matters says I have to stop fighting things and put it in God's hands. I've tried that - at least I think I have. What else does "God please help me" mean? I'm quite familiar with the concept that God doesn't give us what we can't handle, but is He trying to break me here? Because if so, I'm feeling pretty broken. Feeling whole would be really good right now.
Mother Teresa felt the same way, I guess. She somehow managed to keep going. Maybe she was stronger than I am. I don't know. I do know I could use a bone here, something small just to let me know I'm not all alone. Let's say we start small - I'll stay dizzy if I could just see straight.
Yeah, I know. God's not a deal maker. Maybe I just need to read copies of those letters. You know coin a new phrase - What Would Mother Teresa Do?
Saturday, September 8, 2007
What's Wrong With Wholesome?
If you are a parent, especially of a girl between the ages of say 6 and 16, and your child watches the Disney Channel, you are probably aware of the juggernaut known as High School Musical. The first movie debuted in 2005 (I think) and surprised even Disney execs with its popularity. The Disney Channel Original Movie (DCOM) spawned a mega-hit soundtrack, clothes, toys, various accessories and, most recently, a sequel - High School Musical 2. The HSM2 debut was anticipated by eager fans with at least as much enthusiasm as any Hollywood blockbuster, including Pirates of the Caribbean and Lord of the Rings. The Girl attended a premiere party at the house of one of her friends, and even The Boy wanted to stay up an watch. Lots of sports pretty much guarantees boys will be interested too, I guess. Young stars Zac Efron, Vanessa Hudgens, Corbin Bleu, and Ashley Tisdale (and others) catapulted from relative obscurity to high popularity with the teeny-bopper crowd.
The story lines of these movies are not very deep - boy meets girl (or in the case of HSM2, boy has girl), boy loses girl, boy gets girl. And in the true spirit of Disney, they are a little campy. I mean really, no high school has that many good-looking kids. Even the one overweight girl is pretty. But all that aside, there are some good messages about friendship, being true to yourself even when that's not easy, and the pressure to conform (The first HSM has a rather catchy tune called "Stick to the Status Quo" that is all about not stepping outside of your social circle; if you're a brain, don't say you like hip-hop, for example.), all good themes. And the music is catchy.
The movies are also something of a rarity in entertainment - pure "G" rated fare. Just about every one of today's animated movies, from Pixar to Shrek, contains something that kids don't really get, but adults do. Not HSM. When director Kenny Ortega wanted to put in a line that "parents would get, even if kids didn't" he was told "this is a movie for kids, not adults." The line did not go in. The result is two movies completely devoid of drugs, alcohol, sex (not even much kissing), swearing, law breaking, cigarettes, suggestive dance moves, questionable song lyrics, baggy pants or bare midriffs. HSM2, which takes place at a country club with pool, shows all the girls wearing either one-piece suits or tankinis, with nary a belly button or butt cheek in sight. To those without kids this seems ludicrous, but let me tell you that as a parent of two young kids it's a refreshing thing. Something I can let my kids watch unsupervised and know they aren't seeing anything I wouldn't want them to see.
So this is good, right? Newspapers and magazines are cheering this event, right? Maybe, maybe not.
A few weeks ago, I happened upon a copy of Newsweek that had a brief write-up about HSM2. The article left me feeling a bit perplexed. It started off positively enough, citing many of the things I mentioned above, while simultaneously making snide comments about Lindsey Lohan, the Disney child star turned party girl. But I got the impression that the article was somehow both disbelieving and disappointed at the lack of "dirt" on the HSM stars. Hudgens' Disney-approved biography was cited as listing "walking in the rain and puddle jumping" as one of her favorite activities in a scoffing manner that left me thinking the author didn't believe it could be true. I would suggest that the author visit the campus of my college alma mater when the rugby fields flood after a severe rain storm. He'd find about 50 undergrads, and more than a handful of grad students, having the time of their lives treating the fields as a gigantic Slip-n-Slide. It snidely stated that both Efron and Bleu said they never got a detention in school, as if such things don't happen. Hey, I never got a detention either. By the end of the article, I couldn't decide if Newsweek thought the apparently wholesome nature of the HSM cast was refreshing, disappointing, or fake.
I pondered this for a while. What is the lament of entertainment industry analysts everywhere? A lack of good, quality entertainment for children, things that don't give parents nightmares. And whether you be a Disney fan or not, here is exactly what these pundits are crying for. So why the disappointment?
The answer, I think, lies in the peculiarity of the American culture. At heart, American culture is puritanical. Yes, those pesky Puritans haunt us still. The so-called "Moral Majority" is practically raised on Calvin. Think of the Puritans and the stereotype: rigidly moral, against sex, against fun, disapproving of any who fail to conform. But underneath, there is the pull to things decided un-Puritan: sex, money, gossip, scandal.
Fast-forward 300 years and not much has changed. Oh, we deplore the antics of Lohan, Paris Hilton, Russell Crowe, Ray Lewis, and every other spoiled celebrity out there. "Oh, what a poor example for the children," we cry. "American society is degrading, morals are missing, oh we're surely headed to hell in a hand basket," we lament. (Note that I'm speaking of American culture as a general thing here, not about specific individuals. Ask any European, Americans are much more prudish about sex and drugs than those cosmopolitan Continentals.)
Yet what is the staple of the American check-out counter in supermarkets, convenience stores, and drug stores everywhere? If you don't know, you are a) completely non-observant, b) living under a rock, or c) shopping from the Internet. The answer, of course, is the tabloids. Headlines in bold, screaming print blast the latest gossip about all the Hollywood antics. Brangelina is over, no they aren't; Lohan arrested just days after completing rehab; Nicky Hilton pregnant and 87 pounds; all the starlets who weigh less than my 7-year old; Whitney Houston on another coke binge; Tom-Kat and all the drama surrounding them. It's all there in letters so big even the most myopic of shoppers can't miss it.
And believe you me, it sells. Oh boy does it sell. I know this because if it didn't sell, these papers wouldn't exist. Oh, some of them are higher class than The Enquirer or The Globe. It's hard to put the shiny cover of People in the same category as a trashy newsprint. But make no mistake -People is just a tabloid in pretty clothes. The same goes for In Style and all the rest of those rags. They make their money reporting on the foibles, foul-ups, and decadent lifestyles that are fodder for celebrity gossip. And the American public eats it up.
Unfortunately, the young stars of HSM didn't stay unknown or exempt for long. People recently featured real-life couple Efron and Hudgens on its cover, talking about how they started dating on the set. In Style showed Efron, flanked by Hudgens and Tisdale, with the headline "Behind the set!" and a sub-heading talking about the sniping and fighting "especially over Zac!" And while I have not seen it, Rolling Stone reportedly featured Efron on the cover with a half-buttoned shirt and is left hand up the front.
All in all, it's kind of sad. Yeah, kids grow up and the innocence is lost, but why do we treat this as inevitable? Why is it so difficult to believe in a group of kids who just might be what they seem to be - good-natured, sensible kids who just like making movies, music, and having fun? Why must we drag them on to the tabloid covers?
I don't have the answer. I'm not sure anyone does. But I do believe this: When we figure out the answer, and actually act upon it, maybe some of the "oh, society today has no morals" outcry will lessen.
Or maybe not. Just ask Socrates.
The story lines of these movies are not very deep - boy meets girl (or in the case of HSM2, boy has girl), boy loses girl, boy gets girl. And in the true spirit of Disney, they are a little campy. I mean really, no high school has that many good-looking kids. Even the one overweight girl is pretty. But all that aside, there are some good messages about friendship, being true to yourself even when that's not easy, and the pressure to conform (The first HSM has a rather catchy tune called "Stick to the Status Quo" that is all about not stepping outside of your social circle; if you're a brain, don't say you like hip-hop, for example.), all good themes. And the music is catchy.
The movies are also something of a rarity in entertainment - pure "G" rated fare. Just about every one of today's animated movies, from Pixar to Shrek, contains something that kids don't really get, but adults do. Not HSM. When director Kenny Ortega wanted to put in a line that "parents would get, even if kids didn't" he was told "this is a movie for kids, not adults." The line did not go in. The result is two movies completely devoid of drugs, alcohol, sex (not even much kissing), swearing, law breaking, cigarettes, suggestive dance moves, questionable song lyrics, baggy pants or bare midriffs. HSM2, which takes place at a country club with pool, shows all the girls wearing either one-piece suits or tankinis, with nary a belly button or butt cheek in sight. To those without kids this seems ludicrous, but let me tell you that as a parent of two young kids it's a refreshing thing. Something I can let my kids watch unsupervised and know they aren't seeing anything I wouldn't want them to see.
So this is good, right? Newspapers and magazines are cheering this event, right? Maybe, maybe not.
A few weeks ago, I happened upon a copy of Newsweek that had a brief write-up about HSM2. The article left me feeling a bit perplexed. It started off positively enough, citing many of the things I mentioned above, while simultaneously making snide comments about Lindsey Lohan, the Disney child star turned party girl. But I got the impression that the article was somehow both disbelieving and disappointed at the lack of "dirt" on the HSM stars. Hudgens' Disney-approved biography was cited as listing "walking in the rain and puddle jumping" as one of her favorite activities in a scoffing manner that left me thinking the author didn't believe it could be true. I would suggest that the author visit the campus of my college alma mater when the rugby fields flood after a severe rain storm. He'd find about 50 undergrads, and more than a handful of grad students, having the time of their lives treating the fields as a gigantic Slip-n-Slide. It snidely stated that both Efron and Bleu said they never got a detention in school, as if such things don't happen. Hey, I never got a detention either. By the end of the article, I couldn't decide if Newsweek thought the apparently wholesome nature of the HSM cast was refreshing, disappointing, or fake.
I pondered this for a while. What is the lament of entertainment industry analysts everywhere? A lack of good, quality entertainment for children, things that don't give parents nightmares. And whether you be a Disney fan or not, here is exactly what these pundits are crying for. So why the disappointment?
The answer, I think, lies in the peculiarity of the American culture. At heart, American culture is puritanical. Yes, those pesky Puritans haunt us still. The so-called "Moral Majority" is practically raised on Calvin. Think of the Puritans and the stereotype: rigidly moral, against sex, against fun, disapproving of any who fail to conform. But underneath, there is the pull to things decided un-Puritan: sex, money, gossip, scandal.
Fast-forward 300 years and not much has changed. Oh, we deplore the antics of Lohan, Paris Hilton, Russell Crowe, Ray Lewis, and every other spoiled celebrity out there. "Oh, what a poor example for the children," we cry. "American society is degrading, morals are missing, oh we're surely headed to hell in a hand basket," we lament. (Note that I'm speaking of American culture as a general thing here, not about specific individuals. Ask any European, Americans are much more prudish about sex and drugs than those cosmopolitan Continentals.)
Yet what is the staple of the American check-out counter in supermarkets, convenience stores, and drug stores everywhere? If you don't know, you are a) completely non-observant, b) living under a rock, or c) shopping from the Internet. The answer, of course, is the tabloids. Headlines in bold, screaming print blast the latest gossip about all the Hollywood antics. Brangelina is over, no they aren't; Lohan arrested just days after completing rehab; Nicky Hilton pregnant and 87 pounds; all the starlets who weigh less than my 7-year old; Whitney Houston on another coke binge; Tom-Kat and all the drama surrounding them. It's all there in letters so big even the most myopic of shoppers can't miss it.
And believe you me, it sells. Oh boy does it sell. I know this because if it didn't sell, these papers wouldn't exist. Oh, some of them are higher class than The Enquirer or The Globe. It's hard to put the shiny cover of People in the same category as a trashy newsprint. But make no mistake -People is just a tabloid in pretty clothes. The same goes for In Style and all the rest of those rags. They make their money reporting on the foibles, foul-ups, and decadent lifestyles that are fodder for celebrity gossip. And the American public eats it up.
Unfortunately, the young stars of HSM didn't stay unknown or exempt for long. People recently featured real-life couple Efron and Hudgens on its cover, talking about how they started dating on the set. In Style showed Efron, flanked by Hudgens and Tisdale, with the headline "Behind the set!" and a sub-heading talking about the sniping and fighting "especially over Zac!" And while I have not seen it, Rolling Stone reportedly featured Efron on the cover with a half-buttoned shirt and is left hand up the front.
All in all, it's kind of sad. Yeah, kids grow up and the innocence is lost, but why do we treat this as inevitable? Why is it so difficult to believe in a group of kids who just might be what they seem to be - good-natured, sensible kids who just like making movies, music, and having fun? Why must we drag them on to the tabloid covers?
I don't have the answer. I'm not sure anyone does. But I do believe this: When we figure out the answer, and actually act upon it, maybe some of the "oh, society today has no morals" outcry will lessen.
Or maybe not. Just ask Socrates.
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