Archive for the ‘Culture’ Category

I can tell you exactly where I was on July 16, 1981: stuck in a ghastly traffic jam on the Long Island Expressway. I was heading out to my boyfriend’s house, when all came to an absolute standstill. Reports came in over the radio of multi-lane closures, due to what sounded like a horrific accident involving a small car and large truck. Those of you who are fans of a certain type of 1970s music know where this story ends. Harry Chapin was the driver of that small car, and he died thirty years ago today.

I spent much of my life hiding my love for the easy listening folk rock of the 1970s.  As a genre, it gets little respect. Disco has gone from cultural joke to being considered the iconic music of a gay sub-culture that was unknowingly dancing on the edge of an apocalypse. Bruce Springsteen and the like will always get respect. Punk and new wave, with their angry anarchy, became the music of leftwing intellectuals everywhere as the Free to Be … You and Me era ended in Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher.

Folk rock, on the other hand, is marked by an earnestness and sincerity that plays as hokey in our more ironic age. It’s often about failure, which might also be why it gets little respect since we are, after all, a society that’s uncomfortable with anything but tales of triumphant progress. Much of folk rock describes how things did not work out. And no one got all that better than Chapin, a man who, despite the love of family, friends and fans, understood loneliness and despair. Read on »

Whatever happened between former IMF head Dominique Strauss-Kahn and the immigrant housekeeper he is (still) charged with sexually assaulting earlier this year is likely destined to remain a murky bit of business. He’s got a record as a sexual harasser, she’s admitted to faking rape previously. Stir in the fact that there are plenty of powerful people who had reason want Strauss-Kahn sidelined, and you have a case that will keep everyone from feminists to Bilderberg types debating for years over what really happened in that $3,000 a night luxury suite at the Sofitel Hotel in Midtown Manhattan this past spring.

Yet, almost unbelievably, there is a victory for women in this sorry saga. Yes, a victory. Really. Read on »

My older son is in junior high school now, and he comes to me frequently with tales of who did what to whom and asking me to weigh in. I almost always determine, after about a minute of listening to the incident of the day, that there are no innocent parties involved in the fracas. “They’re all wrong,” I pronounce.

It’s a concept foreign to most Americans. We like our good guys and our villains. How can they all be wrong? Isn’t there one person more wrong than the other? How can people attempting to do good be so ridiculously and unintentionally awful? How can there be order in the world if we are all, on some level, villains?

No, this isn’t a post about Anthony Weiner and Andrew Breibart, though it could be. Instead, it’s about the article in the New York Times asking why a substantial number of students attending New York’s most elite independent schools need so much tutoring that some of their families are spending more money on private coaches for their children than on the not-unsubstantial tuition bill itself. Exhibit A is the Riverdale Country School, a school, where one anonymous parent ‘fessed up to spending six figures on her progeny’s outside helpers, on top of the school’s $38,800 annual tab to attend. The schools claim to be deeply unhappy about the situation.

When I read through the article, I quickly came to the conclusion it was a textbook case of everyone involved being wrong. Read on »

As many of my friends know, I have a definite thing for the Armageddon types. I suspect I am one of those people who needs to know how much worse things can be before I appreciate what I have in the here and now (Yeah, my health insurance bites! But hey, in five years, things will be so bad we will all be living in tent cities and the plague will come and we will be weeping with nostalgia for the days when we argued over the phone for hours with Betty Jean in Bangalore about our benefits…).

So credit where credit it due. The wonderful George Ure makes predictions based on wave theory and a method in which he tracks word usage on the Internet. I’m not sure I really understand this, but it makes for entertaining, if depressing, reading. Well, a few weeks ago George predicted about 50 bodies would be recovered from the Air France plane that crashed into the Atlantic Ocean. Guess how many bodies have been recovered?

As for his predictions for the rest of the year … Mercifully, his track record is not so great, at least according to this list helpfully provided by the folks at Coast to Coast AM. On the other hand, timing one’s predictions can be a tricky thing, so if we experience hyper-inflation, inner city unrest or hear from a NASA whistleblower before the end of 2009, you can credit George for letting you know the news first.

First, let me say I am terribly sorry to read about Sandra Tsing-Loh’s divorce which, according to her essay in the most recent issue of The Atlantic, apparently occurred after she could not meet a deadline imposed by her therapist for re-committing to her (still) husband after she enjoyed a brief affair. But I think in her desire to draw a greater social lesson from her experience (namely, that a long-term monogamous commitment to one partner is both unnatural and unnecessary), Tsing-Loh misses many important facts about how and why marriage works.

Marriage developed as a social and economic institution, designed to protect the family. This might explain why Americans remain more committed to the institution than Western Europeans, a fact Tsing-Loh spends a lot of time pondering. It’s not that we are more religious or more romantic or more credulous, as she finally concludes. It’s that our social support structures are, to put it kindly, a bit lacking. Marriage is, for better or worse, a social safety net in this country. A Western European single mom can count on such basics as government provided child care and health insurance. We can’t. The economic consequences are profound. To take one example, single mothers in the U.S. file for bankruptcy at significantly higher rates than their married counterparts.

Yes, long-term monogamous marriage comes with some serious downsides, like curtailment of freedom and a squelched individuality. Few would deny that it can, at times, feel quite boring and oppressive. (I wrote about this in my rather well known essay, The New Nanny Diaries are Online). Yet marriage survives, likely because it has much in common with Winston Churchill’s observation on democracy: It might well be one of the worst forms of male/female/family relations ever, except for all the other ones we’ve tried out.

There has always been a strand of self-righteousness in Tsing-Loh’s essays. In her view, what is true for her is true for all of us. The world, c’est moi. Take her otherwise excellent writing on the benefits of public education. She’s right in many ways and yet in her self-congratulation for resisting the lure of a $25,000 a year school she couldn’t afford she goes over the top. Anyone who has ever sent a child to a public school knows that even the best are far from trouble-free. The vast majority cannot compete educationally with the private sector. I always feel guilty when I first read Tsing-Loh’s evangelic education bromides since, after all, the vast majority of mothers of children at my sons school commit the Tsing-Loh sin of speaking English as a first language. But then I remember – my children do go to a public school! Yes, it commits the sin of being in the suburbs but it is economically diverse! We fight over budgets! And our mothers — many of them volunteer too. (Not me, by the way, but I’m willing to acknowledge that Tsing-Loh has me beat as a person on this issue.)

That streak of self-righteousness and self regard is present in this essay too. Take Tsing-Loh’s depictions of her friends’ marriages all of whom, it turns out, are as miserable as hers. They simply lack her moxie, her willingness to call it quits. This, frankly, defies belief. More likely, her unhappy friends confided in her and the others – well, they probably exercised tact and common sense. After all, if a friend came to you and said their marriage was over, would you respond by saying, “My husband is the greatest ever?” I don’t think so.

All this isn’t to attack Tsing-Loh for her decision. It’s possible –in fact quite likely – her marriage was a dysfunctional mess that needed to end. No one flippantly ends a two decades long marriage. I am just not convinced its demise holds any lessons for the rest of us except, perhaps, to avoid family therapists who impose arbitrary cut-off dates on you and yours.

Like all bibliophiles, I find there are too many books to read and not enough time to get to even one percent of them. As a result, every so often I will try to catch up with books I always meant to read but somehow never did. This month has been a particularly productive. First, I finally acted on the advice of hundreds of folks over the years, and picked up a copy of Eric Ambler’s classic A Coffin for Dimitrios, which was indeed as good as promised. But instead of sticking with Ambler, I got intrigued by the 1970s.

Let me backtrack. Last month I read the compelling revisionist history The Sixties Unplugged, by Gerard DeGroot. DeGroot takes on the decade from a left-wing perspective, arguing that aside from a few genuine moments of revolutionary change such as the Stonewall riots and the resultant cry for equal rights for homosexuals, most 60s movements – including the anti-war movement — were narcissistic in origin and quickly subsumed by capitalist interests. It’s an incredible work of history, one that challenges just about every belief you have about what you think you know, and leaves you desperate for more information at the same time. So I moved on to the 1970s. And because I wanted to see the decade from the completely opposite political perspective, I checked Neo-Con David Frum’s How We Got Here out of my local library.

All I can say is that it is a tribute to the uniquely fascinating properties of the 1970s, which is indeed a truly under-appreciated decade in our nation’s history, that I was able to read as much of this book as I did. I won’t waste anyone’s time ripping apart a book that is almost a decade old, but I will take moment to note it did provide a few moments of unintentional insight, particularly into the hypocrisy of the neo-cons.  One in particular stands out: Frum’s look at the inflation of the 1970s.

Low interest rates are very pleasant, but they can also stimulate inflation. Ideally, the Federal Reserve acts as a thermostat. It lowers interest rates and injects cash into the economy during recessions, and it raises interest rates and removes cash during booms, thus preserving a stable, stead price level. But if the Federal Reserve were to continue lowering interest rates during a boom, cash would soon become ridiculously over-plentiful and its value would begin to tumble. 

So where was Mr. Frum during the Greenspan era?  Oh, right. He was busy adding such lovely phrases as “axis of evil” to President George W. Bush’s lexicon and clearly too busy to take on the disastrous economic policies of the Fed.

As for me, I just put the well-regarded Something Happened: A Political and Cultural Overview of the Seventies on reserve at the library.

 

Never mind Stuff White People Like. Check out the hilariously un-pc Blognigger. Let it be noted for the record that the rage of us native NYC kids who can no longer afford to live within the boundaries five boroughs (ok, I mean the gentrified parts of the five boroughs) knows no bounds. His side-splitting take-down of the reception newbie Brooklynites are giving to the opening of an Ikea in Red Hook cannot be described but must be read. Then there is the saga of the homeless man on the A train …

I should note there is some debate on Gawker as to whether he’s for real or not. I just got off the phone with another native NYC pal now living in Westchester exile and we agree: He’s for real and if he’s not, we don’t care.  You go, Blognigger! 

Years ago, the incomparable Ron Rosenbaum wrote a terrific essay called “My Theater Problem — and Ours,” in which he postulated the concept of “the wrong performance.” Instead of paraphrasing, I will quote directly:

I always seem to be seeing plays that seem utterly unlike what everyone else seems to have seen. I’m forever going to things that have been raved over by critics, chattered about by the chattering classes, awarded prizes and grants, and finding myself thinking — in those moments when I can keep myself awake from the industrial-strength tedium they induce — that this is the most cliched, empty, contrived piece of ranting I have ever seen.  Afterward, I’d find myself wondering, Is it possible I went to the wrong theater; this second-rate, self-satsified, soporific contrivance can’t be the same stuff that people are taking seriously, can it?

My husband and I are such fans of this essay that its nomenclature has been adopted into the house lingo. If one of us reads a book, sees a movie, or experiences another such cultural event in a way different from the mainstream of opinion, we don’t say we disagree with the conventional take, we say, for example, we saw “the wrong movie.”

The latest wrong movie viewed by this unfortunate blogger: Kung Fu Panda. Manohla Dargis at The New York Timessaw a “diverting and visually arresting” film, “a grab bag of gentle jokes, sage lectures, helpful lessons and kicky fights.” Other reviewers were equally as wowed. The film I saw? An incomprehensible melange of fat jokes, violence, father-son issues, violence, Cain and Abel allusions, violence, buddy film and, yes, violence.  I must have been in the wrong auditorium. Bleh.

Liza Was Here compared my voice in my recently published essay “The Mean Moms” to that of Anne Lamott. Thank you, fellow Smith College grad! And thanks to the magic of Google alerts, I now know of another great blog worth reading.

As for “The Mean Moms,” it’s in the recently published anthology The Maternal is Political. Check out the book. It’s great.

Variety is reporting that Comedy Central is reviving The Gong Show.