How classy are you?

I’ve carried around Paul Fussel’s book, Class: A Guide Through the American Status System, for years and through several moves.  I recently re-read the book for somewhere around the 10th time, and was as amused and intrigued as the first time I read it when I was just out of college.

Class is an entertaining expose of how the truly “out-of-sight wealthy” (this means those royalty in places like Greece, not wealthy “debutantes” like Paris Hilton–according to this book, she’d merely be rich, not upper class) live as opposed to how those of us in the mundane middle classes live.  But…which “middle class” are you?  There are, according to Fussel, several levels of middle class–upper-middle, middle-middle, and lower-middle.  He goes into detail about these and also the “proletariat” or lower classes. 

You’ll like this book if you “get” why a worn, threadbare rug is higher class than a brand spanking new rug.  Or, that a dusty room messy with books and newspapers is higher class than a sparkling clean living room with the latest t.v. set.  What bespeaks “really old money”–an old chevy that’s been kept up or the flashy Ferrari? 

It’s fun to take a glimpse at the snobbery of the upper classes and the sometimes sad yearning and pretensions of the middle classes.  A caveat: this book was written years ago, so some of the standards have changed…some of the upper class trappings are far more attainable than they used to be, so some folks can pretend to the upper classes.  Still, a very fun read.

For reviews and other info on Class:

http://www.amazon.com/Class-Through-American-Status-System/dp/0671792253/ref=pd_bxgy_b_img_a/002-8262244-7318437

Weekend getaway.

I wanted to get away this weekend, but we didn’t plan and before we knew it…it was Friday night.  Too late to plan an impromptu weekend away. 

But the interesting thing is…we had a great “away” anyway.  We went to the Marin County Farmer’s Market–and it was almost like getting away. 

The beautiful fruits and veggies, the artisan booths, the baked-food and gourmet vendors, the music.  The kids enjoyed the lively crowd of people, Gregory took advantage of the bounce houses and the opportunities to run ahead of us and point out new and interesting things.  Every corner had exotic samples to share: brazilian cheese bread, curries, unusual cheeses, boutique olive oils.  I felt energized by the commerce and the sharing…it was apart from the usual weekend trips to the market, cleaning out the garage, errands, etc.

Weekend getaway.

Modern culture, redux.

I read that O.J. “the Juice” Simpson has written and sold (!) a book of (supposed) fiction about how he would have killed his wife, had he done it (ha ha).

I won’t be buying this book, nor even perusing it in the bookstore aisles.  This is not just in bad taste…it’s revolting.  Is there really anyone who believes he is innocent of the crime of murder?  How has this become our entertainment?  There are only so many minutes in the day–I cannot fathom spending one of them reading this book.

My recommendation: pass.

Modern culture.

I initially posted this a few days ago, however…someone I respect a lot was offended and insulted by it, so I removed it.  After considering it, I’ve decided it’s accurate, and a blog is…after all…just my thoughts.  If you disagree with this post, just chalk it up to differing opinions.  And to that person who hated this post—even though you liked this movie, I still love you!

I succumbed to all the hype surrounding the movie Borat and bought my ticket…one zillion people can’t be wrong, right?

I went, thrilled at the prospect of escapism…leaving behind my real life for a couple hours.  I’d read a review (“it’s smart and funny! original!), seen how the movie was eliciting stars and thumbs like I’d not seen in a long while.  This is the movie of 2006!  A MUST SEE!

The movie came on…disbelief quickly turned to disgust…then to boredom.  The jokes got old fast.  A Candid Camera with nudity and references to bodily functions and incest.  Daring!  Genius!  After about 30 minutes, I called it quits.

I believe I have a good sense of humor…I fancy myself having an ability to see the absurd or the ironic in daily situations. I rely often on dripping sarcasm to get my point across, and I snicker at the politically incorrect on a frequent basis. So, why was I turned off by this movie?

It’s not that I am necessarily disturbed by the movie itself.  What disturbs me is the fawning, the positive reviews, the declaration by our society that this movie is somehow great.  It’s not.  It appeals to the basest parts of our selves, and the fact that it is the #1 movie in America at present says more about the state of our country than the elections of last week, the war in Iraq, the price of gas, the ozone layer, our timber forests, or the divorce rate.  It says, in essence: we as a nation desire to be amused by the lowest common denominator.  Both a frat boy and the most pretentious university professor can laugh with with equal abandon at Borat. Even playing field.

Time magazine proclaims that anyone over 35 years old will hate this movie, and those under 35 will love it.  That seems a valid demarcation, but you may be that 40 year-old hipster who thinks this movie is truly entertaining.  If you loved this movie and consider yourself somehow intellectual, unique, of fine taste, alas hip…you are not alone.  There’s millions of you (unique) consumers out there-all proclaiming that a man playing jokes on regular folk with a plastic sex toy is GENIUS.

Me thinks the joke’s on you. 

Rude People.

I spoke with a very rude person on the phone today…soooo rude that I burst into angry tears after hanging up.  Why I didn’t just hang up on the person is a long story…you don’t want to know.

The thing I’ve been thinking about today is why, on the telephone, some people feel they have permission to be rude in a way I don’t imagine they’d be in person.  The autonomy, the facelessness…I suppose it allows a freedom for folks to vent, feel “assertive,” and let it all hang out.  I wonder what will happen to this phenomenon in the new millineum, when phones that show live video of the callers faces to each other are the telephonic way to reach out and touch someone.  I hope it’ll have the effect of keeping people polite.

Rude people!  Ugh.

Some serious stuff.

I’m an adult, right?  I mean, I’m married, I’ve created human beings, I can drive, vote, do all the stuff that adults do.  But I have a fascination with some childish, teenager-ish stuff.  I kind of think we all have a guilty pleasure we should have grown out of, so I’m going to fess up and admit mine.  My guilty, age-inappropriate curiosity is about…

Celebrity Divorces!

Isn’t that bizarre?  And immature?  Yes to both.  But, for whatever reasons, I’m really interested in why Britney Spears is divorcing Kevin Federline.  Why is Whitney Houston leaving Bobby?  And, who can believe that dream couple Reese Witherspoon and Ryan Phillipe are falling apart?  Who cheated???  Who has a drug problem???  WHY are they blowing apart the public marital fantasy?!!!

Ok.  So I admit that I read www.people.com and submit myself to that kind of trash.  No, I don’t buy the Enquirer, but I do love to occassionally grab a copy while I’m waiting in line at the grocery.  I don’t know Brad Pitt or Jennifer Anistorn, but I was really sorry for them that it didn’t work out.  I found myself asking, am I on Team Aniston or Team Jolie?  Am I alone here, or do you have opinions about people you’ve never met, will never meet…actually don’t want to meet? 

Okay, now that I’ve admitted my deep dark secret to the world, I’ve gotta go.  I’ve got some intellectual, serious things to do. 

Babysitter Gold.

For us, getting a babysitter is a big deal.  We don’t have a lot of people clammering to spend quality one-on-one alone time with our kids, so it’s always asking a favor of someone or figuring out financially how much that $40 dinner for Tim and I is really going to cost us (probably around $80 when the babysitter is paid and tipped). 

So, when we do get someone to watch our kids, particularly when they do it for free (or with the casual “no, really…don’t worry about it.  You can watch our kids for us sometime”), we really feel obligated to make the most of the time.  I have anxiety about this.  Last night, for instance. 

We were over at some people’s home, having a lovely dinner and great conversation, and in my head, I’m thinking:  Is this the best use of our time?  Should hubby and I be sitting alone in some romantic restaurant reminiscing on why we fell in love in the first place?  Or should we be at home cleaning out those closets that we can never get to with the kids underfoot?

Last night, I felt guilty not squeezing the most out of our babysitting hours.  I had to remind myself that’s it okay to just be relaxing with friends, talking about things other than child-rearing.  Taking a breath, I enjoyed myself.  I laughed at adult conversation.  I ate my dinner without a child (or two) wanting to sit in my lap.

When it was time to pick up the kids, I thanked our friends for watching the boys and asked when I could watch their kids.  And I hugged my kids close: just those few hours away were gold…it made me want to squeeze my children and I remembered a couple of things:  I’d rather spend time playing than cleaning out closets, and I remembered why I fell in love with them in the first place.

Writer’s Envy.

I have full-fledged writer’s envy.  Those who’ve taken on NaMoWriMo (see my post below “The Writing Life” for an explanation of what this is) are now 10+% done with their novels.  Gads–it’s humbling to know that some people can write so fast.  I’ve taken a look at some of the writing–and sure, some of it is junk…but some of it isn’t. 

Hmmm…maybe this will be my November 2007 project.

November Ramp Up.

We all know by now that next Tuesday, November 7, is election day.  Whether you fall in the Red or the Blue…right or left, I’ve just got to ask, aren’t you tired of the campaigning?  The signs, the mailers–THE GAZILLION PHONE CALLS!

We received three recorded phone calls yesterday–automated voices urging us to vote one way or the other.  I’m perfectly capable of reading my information packet that arrives in October, I don’t need the President of the Nurses Association of California or the Chair of California’s Tax Board calling me to tell me who and what to vote for.  I’d like, instead, to be left to my own devices…to figure it out for myself…and more importantly, to make and eat dinner with my family without the phone ringing and irritating me.

Could it be that these phone calls are meant to discourage voter turn out?  I mean, they are so off-putting that I have to wonder if the campaigns of the opponents are calling on behalf of the other guy.  I mean, the perverse part of my nature responds to these calls as follows:

Recorded voice:  On November 7th, remember that Prop whatever is a TAX TRAP!  The Firemen’s Association of California calls this Proposition a REAL DISASTER FOR OUR STATE!!!  Vote NO on Prop  whatever!

Me:  Shut up.  STOP CALLING ME!  Just for annoying me–I might vote YES!

I know–very immature reaction on my part.  What can I say? It just brings out the worst in me.

The writing life.

So there’s this thing called National Novel Writing Month (or NaNoWriMo as it’s known to the hip writing crowd) that the blogosphere is all excited about this month. It is, in essence, a personal challenge that one takes on to write a complete novel (of at least 50,000) in 30 days. Obviously, the focus is on numbers, not good writing. In fact, the NaNoWriMo website says, “Because of the limited writing window, the ONLY thing that matters in NaNoWriMo is output. It’s all about quantity, not quality.” Eek! I can’t imagine writing a novel without constantly editing, thinking, tweaking.

But, for all of us would-be novelists, the idea is a seductive one. Write a whole book in only one month! Over 59,000 folks took on the challenge last year, and an astonishing 10,000 people finished successfully. Which leaves me to wonder what percentage of the 10,000 books that came out of this test are total garbage.

I thought about doing NaNoWriMo, but ultimately decided to pass. I actually enjoy agonizing over every word, taking the time to fully develop characters, picking out the one phrase that perfectly describes what is happening. To all of those writing their full novel this month, I say “Good Luck!” I admire your sense of challenge. You are brave. For those who make it to the end of November with a full novel, I even envy your accomplishment.

But, I’ll be doing what I do…writing a page a day, whittling away slowly at my Great American Novel.

info: www.nanowrimo.org bannerlogotype.gif