WHAT HAPPENED TO CIVILITY?

There’s been a lot of talk of civility in the past few weeks. Congressman Joe Wilson called President Obama a liar during a joint session of congress. Rapper Kanye West jumped onstage and ripped the microphone from singer Taylor Swift as she was giving an acceptance speech at the MTV awards. And from town hall meetings to ostensibly respectable members of the press, partisan bickering is nastier than ever.

Joe Wilson, the congressman from South Carolina, said that his comment during Mr. Obama’s health-care speech was extemporaneous, and I have no reason to doubt him, but a slip of the tongue stills calls for an apology. The good news is that Mr. Wilson called the president’s office and offered up a mea culpa; the bad news is that he refused to apologize to congress in the hallowed room where his outburst occurred. If the custodians in which we have entrusted these offices don’t respect them, then how are we regular citizens supposed to respect the offices, or the people that represent them?

Kanye West is known for his bad behavior in an industry where bad behavior is often celebrated. When he sullied Ms. Swift’s first win by taking her microphone and announcing, in essence, that Beyonce should have won the award, the reaction was fast and furious—Mr. West was booed off of the stage and continued to be booed the rest of the evening whenever his name was called. Beyonce repudiated Mr. West’s behavior when she won a later award by graciously inviting Ms. Swift back to the stage to finish her acceptance speech. Many artists tweeted or posted notes on their websites condemning Mr. West’s behavior. I found this encouraging given that Ms. Swift is more country than rock n’ roll. The people that responded immediately were not her “people”. If Toby Keith had been in the audience that night Mr. West would have probably suffered more than boos. However, despite the public reaction, Mr. West still had a hard time actually apologizing to Ms. Swift: In an appearance on a late-night talk show the following evening, Mr. West talked about how upset he had been regarding his mother's recent death. He sounded more interested in excusing his behavior than taking responsibility for it. Like Congressman Wilson, Mr. West had a hard time going more than halfway to correct his bad behavior.

Even the press has jumped on the incivility juggernaut. On a daily basis, certain MSNBC and Fox News personalities exhibit an enmity for each other and their ideological opposites that rivals that of the Israelis’ and the Palestinians’. Even the respectable Charlie Gibson interviewed Sarah Palin with a contemptuous tone and literally, looking down his nose at her. By the time Mr. Gibson interviewed Ms. Palin, many of us were aware of her “lack of knowledge”. We were, however, surprised and disappointed by Mr. Gibson’s lack of professionalism and, civility.

What happened to civility and what can we do to get it back? How do we teach our kids to be civil?

Listening to the news on the car radio a few years ago, a reporter was relaying the story of how the Texas band, Dixie Chicks, playing a concert in London, told their audience that they were embarrassed that George Bush was from Texas and that he was stupid. I turned the radio off and pulled the car over! I told my kids--not that they ever listen to me--that you could disagree with someone without calling them stupid. I told them that the Dixie Chicks could have said that they disagreed with Mr. Bush’s tax policy or with his invasion of Iraq, but to call him stupid made them look stupid.

We have to learn to disagree without calling names, yanking microphones out of hands, or looking down our noses at those we disagree with. Like I told my children that day in the car: You have to articulate your differences without contempt, and you have to be respectful of others opinions. It feels like we are losing the battle against incivility. That day in the car my kids responded to me, “We understand completely mom, can you please just turn the radio back on!"

Undaunted, I soldier on. Won't you join me? I think with Beyonce's help we can beat this thing!

Friday Froth...

I saw The Informant starring Matt Damon last weekend. While it's a very good movie--worth your time and $10.50--Mr. Damon's performance is the real reason to see this movie. He plays his character a bit like an idiot savant and he does so brilliantly. Most actors would have been tempted to play this character over the top, but Mr. Damon exercises control, even subtlety at times, allowing us to feel some sympathy for a contemptible man. Unless there are a lot of really strong performances in the next three months, I think that Mr. Damon should be nominated for an Oscar. I emphasize should because Hollywood rarely awards control and subtlety.

Did you notice Ralph Lauren's collection in the paper last week? Between the distressed overalls and the shirt-dresses with the paperboy caps, it's clear that Mr. Lauren is not convinced the recession is over. I, on the other hand, am ready for better times! I loved the feminine and elegant Donna Karen dresses--check them out.

I hear that Mitt Romney has moved to California. What I can't figure out is why. Mr. Romney is almost sure to make another run for the presidency in 2012, but Californians tend to vote more "blue" than "red" in presidential races. Wouldn't it behoove Mr. Romney to set-up camp in a more friendly, or early primary state? Californians are receptive to voting "red" in the governor's race--could Mr. Romney possibly be interested in straightening out California's economic mess, biding his time while Obama finishes out his two terms? Or, maybe he's moved to California to help his friend Meg Whitman with her campaign for governor--she formally announced this week.

The new fall television season has started. Did you see Modern Family (Wednesdays on ABC at 9pm)? The critics loved it and so did I--I think! The scenes that featured the gay couple were very funny. The scenes with the May/December couple were pretty funny too. The third family, the one that might be considered the most normal--father, mother and three kids--hit a little close to home. The kids bicker, there are discipline problems, and the oldest daughter is 15 and boy crazy (I have one of these creatures living in my house). I had to laugh to keep from crying!

And lastly, I leave you with something to make you wildly attractive and desirable--the art of the smeyes. Of course you know this is smiling with your eyes. Tyra Banks told Larry King that it was the key to her success. Don't think that this is a big crow's feet-inducing grin, it's not. Rather, it's a slight squint of the eyes with a very still mouth (Novocaine mouth, Tyra calls it)--the idea is to create a window to the soul, not a view of your dental work. I find it helps to think of something a little naughty. Start practicing!

It Feels Like Fall Today--It's Time

It feels like fall today.  The air is crisp.  But really, in San Francisco that means nothing, our "crispest" days can be in the middle of summer.  It's the light quality that let's me know it's fall. There's a warm glow, a slight sepia coloring the world.  Fall is bittersweet. 

Fall is the beginning and the end:  The beginning of an exciting new school- year and the end of the halcyon days of summer.  You put away your swimsuits and flip-flops and get out your sweaters and boots.  If you are in school, you are generally happy to move-up--most years you're taller, one year you will graduate from a cubby to a locker, and someday you may actually drive yourself to school.  If you are putting someone through school, you are generally shocked that they can't wear any of their clothes, concerned that they will never remember the combination to their locker, and TERRIFIED that they are behind the wheel of a car.  You watch them drive away and wonder how this happened. 

  

I took my son to college a couple of weeks ago.  2853 miles and three time zones away. 

I was ready for him to go.  I really was.  I promise!  The constant pull-and-tug of our relationship was exhausting.  Him pulling away because he's 18 and wants to live his own life; me tugging him back via my "rules" for living in this house and because I'm his MOTHER and I'm the one that's operating with a fully developed frontal lobe.  We were both doing our job. Having a child living in your house is like a baby living in your placenta:  At first things can be a little tricky, then everything is great, but toward the end it gets a little cramped and uncomfortable for everyone.  A placenta is only good for a limited number of days, and then as much as you know it's going to hurt, that baby has got to go.

Just he and I made the trip back east.  It was fitting.  What you might not know, and what he doesn't remember is that for the first three years of his life we were pretty tight.  With no family in the area, the dad working 12 hours a day, mostly single friends, and no nanny, my son and I filled each other's worlds, and thus, we developed a kind of shorthand.  As we walked around the campus on that first day, I knew just what he was thinking, I was thinking the same things.  I was nervous and worried about him; I could tell he was nervous and worried about me.  We were both overwhelmed by the possibilities (and the heat), scared at the thought of the responsibilities, and desperate to remember names and find our way around.  I knew that he wished he had a place to go and take a nap and just deal with all of this later.  I wanted to tell him to just put one foot in front of the other, but I didn't, I told myself.

When we left our house to go to the airport the morning before, it had been dark.  I sat in the car and watched him go from room to room, knowing that he wasn't just saying goodbye to a space that had housed him, but to his childhood. When I left his dorm room the next day, after moving him in, I made my way to my rental car making polite conversation with other parents, hoping that they couldn't see the gigantic lump in my throat.  I drove around campus and explored his new world while letting go of the old--I knew that things would never be the same.  I went back to my hotel room, ordered room service, got in the shower, and cried.

Back in San Francisco, walking the dog with friends at the beach, we talked about taking our kids to college.  One friend asked if I felt my son was ready for college.  I assured her that my son was half-baked, but that I had had the oven on high and had used the best ingredients.  I'm hoping that he's like his favorite cake: red velvet.  I get asked for my recipe all the time and when I give it to someone I always emphasize that you only cook it for the prescribed time.  I warn them that they will not think it's done but when the time is up they should take it out anyhow.  This is the only way that you can assure that the "heart" of the cake stays soft.  If you leave it in until you think it looks done it won't be good.  It may look good from the outside, but cakes, like boys, matter more on the inside.  It's scary to take what looks to be a half-baked cake out of the oven or to send what looks to be a half-baked boy across the country to college, but you have to have faith...and pray a lot!

I miss his big smelly hugs and when he tells me to not let go before he does.  I don't miss his stinky laundry.  I miss the sound of his car pulling in the driveway, knowing that he's home safe, whether it's in the middle of the day or the middle of the night.  I don't miss the calls in the middle of the night when he's trying to negotiate his curfew.  I miss listening to the radio with him in the car to see who can be the first to guess the artist of the song playing (I kill him at this game).  I don't miss asking him if his homework is done and him saying, "It's all good," which is code for no.

A few nights ago I dreamt that he was three and running down Chestnut Street in his Batman cape that he made from a black garbage bag--the vision was as clear as a summer day.  The next morning the memory of the dream had faded. His childhood has taken on a sepia tone in both our minds.  But the possibilities for his future, and for mine, are as bright and glaring as the noonday sun off the water in mid-July. 

Change is bittersweet, but this is the way it's supposed to be--he's eighteen and it's fall...it's time.

A Little Respect Please

Over the weekend I was in Pennsylvania where I happened to catch Congresswoman Allyson Schwartz as I was perusing Sunday morning television.  Ms Schwartz, a democrat from the 13th Congressional District, was being interviewed on health care.  The Congresswoman, like most people, feels that something should be done about the rising cost of health care.  However, unlike most people, she supports the Obama backed plan that came out of the House. When asked if she had held any town hall meetings, Ms. Schwartz answered by saying that she had talked to a lot of people one-on-one and had her office talking to people--I took that as a no.  It's understandable that she wouldn't want to subject herself to the hostility that the town hall meetings have been generating, but please Ms. Schwartz, you don't get elected to only hear the good news.  I too wish that people at the town hall meetings yelled less and talked more.  But make no mistake, it's the people's right to express what they want done in Washington and it's the elected officials' job to listen.   However, this is not the part that really bothered me.  I actually got past her evasive, somewhat condescending and patronizing attitude until she said that something had to be done because "we (congress) pay for forty-six percent of health care bills."  Excuse me!  No!  Taxpayers pay for forty-six percent of health care bills.  In fact, for the most part, it's the same taxpayers that pay for private health insurance for themselves and their families plus health care for others via taxes.

The American taxpayer is feeling frustrated!  The government has rescued people that took out loans that they couldn't afford, banks for giving loans that they shouldn't have given, bailed out car companies that refuse to make cars that Americans want to buy and now they want to overhaul our health care system.  At this point, we aren't feeling confident that you have our best interest in mind.

To all of you that represent us in Washington:  We expect you to read the health care bill--all of it.  We expect you to understand it and then to communicate that understanding to us.  We expect you to listen to our feedback--even if it hurts your ears.  We expect respect--we pay the bills, including your salary.  

Arrogance, Narcissism, or Just Plain Not Smart?

Several weeks ago South Carolina's governor, Mark Sanford, got caught lying about his whereabouts. He told his staff that he was hiking the Appalachia Trail and would be incommunicado. Didn't you know right away that this story would end with another woman? Of course you did. Even if politicians hadn't been falling left and right to their carnal proclivities you would have known, wouldn't you? The thing that surprised me about the story was that during his rambling apology, Mr. Sanford said that he was sorry for the pain that he had caused by naming first, "her" (his Argentinian lover), his constituency got second billing, and his wife and kids came in third and fourth. Did anyone else notice this? Wouldn't a smart man put his wife and kids first? And a really smart man would probably make his apology to his lover as clandestine as his tryst, and not part of his public mea culpa. As I added it all up I couldn't help but think that this was NOT a smart man. Curious, I went on-line and read an amorous email exchange between Mr. Sanford and the Argentinian woman. He told her that he liked her tan lines. I can see a line like that coming from someone with braces and acne, but from a senator?   

Mr. Sanford's troubles continue. It has been reported that the governor violated South Carolina law by traveling abroad in first and business class; the state requires lowest fare tickets to be purchased. Mr. Sanford tried to excuse his expensive travel by saying that he could get more rest in the better seats so that he wouldn't look "haggard" at meetings. He really said that! A smart man would surely have feigned hard work saying that he needed the extra space for his laptop and his myriad of charts and graphs to prepare for his meetings. Although someone who requires his staff to use both sides of a post-it might be expected to tough it out and make do in coach.

Mr. Sanford is not alone.  A few weeks ago I saw Oprah interview Elizabeth Edwards.  Ms. Edwards wrote a book about life's adversities after her husband, a past senator from North Carolina, vice-presidential, and presidential candidate, John Edwards, had an affair with a woman that got his attention by calling him "hot".  He was running for the highest office in the free world and it wasn't his first election--you would think that he would've known better, you would think that he was smarter than that.  At the end of the interview, Mr. Edwards came in and Oprah asked him about his wife's book.  Sounding like the victim, he mumbled something about his wife being entitled to have her say.  When Oprah pressed him by asking, "but do you wish she hadn't?", he had a chance to say the right thing, maybe even the smart thing, like "no Oprah, I wish that I hadn't."  But he didn't.  He just reiterated that she was entitled to say whatever she wanted.

Then there's Bill Clinton's inappropriate behavior with a very young intern in the Oval Office--not smart behavior but he would probably not have been impeached if he hadn't lied about it to a grand jury.  I can't help but believe that if he had been man enough and smart enough to own-up to his actions, sincerely apologize, and then never mention it again (not that the press wouldn't pursue it), he would have been better off. As is, he is an impeached president and his legacy will forever carry the pall of his indiscretions.

And what about the women that love these men?  Hillary Clinton stood by her man but now she's the one that wears the pants in the family and she's doing a pretty good job of it.  Jenny Sanford didn't stand by her man on the dais (good for her), but she did give him a second chance before finally calling it quits.  I hope that she finds a soul mate of her own--one that reads Pablo Neruda and Octavio Paz poetry to her (I like your tan lines--are you kidding me!).  Elizabeth Edwards kept up the ruse throughout her husband's presidential run but then wrote the book--I hope writing it was cathartic for her--if not, she should try throwing it at him, every time he walks through the door.

I don't like the hypocrisy of these men that preach family values and then get caught with their pants down, or the ones that lecture us about sharing the wealth as they continue to vote themselves raises and get $400 haircuts.  Or, the ones that rail against big business while secretly making deals with them.  However, I'm not passing judgement on this womanizing and free spending as much as expressing surprise at their handling of their actions after the fact. 

Arrogance?  YES!  Narcissism?  Mr. Edwards and Mr. Sanford seem to worry more about their hair and looks than they do about their families.  Smart?  You be the judge.  You don't have to be Harvard educated but you really should be smart in a real common-sense let's-think-this-through kind of way to hold a major office in this great country.  Of course, it would also be great if you were humble, honest and honorable and could lead by example--is that really asking too much?  Lately, it seems like it may be.  Even President Obama has sneaked into bed with someone other than his wife--the drug companies.  It will be interesting to see how he handles the fallout.

In the Absence of a Leader

Erudite New York Times columnist David Brooks (genuflect) is off this week.  I count on Mr. Brooks to put into words what my gut is telling me.  He is remarkably good at this!  He uses quotes, facts, and figures from a myriad of highbrow sources that I would need amphetamines to get through.  Mr. Brooks is respectful (I've never caught him name calling), fair (while clearly a fiscal conservative, he doesn't hesitate to dole out praise to President Obama when he feels it's justified), and he likes to keep his focus high (I don't think he ever commented on the Gates/Crowley situation much less the recent plethora of sex scandals).  There's no MSNBC or Fox News for Mr. Brooks, but you can catch him on The Newshour with Jim Lehrer.   He's practically perfect and he makes me want to be a better writer.  But alas, Mr. Brooks is, I hear, locked in his basement writing a book, so I'm left flailing.  Without the guidance of his principled columns, his scholarly beacon, I find myself sinking in a morass and resorting to writing about...

...a man in Wisconsin that was married but having affairs with several other ladies.  It should be noted that he was letting at least one of the women keep him up--pardon the expression--by paying for his hotel room the past few months and taking about $3000 in cash.  So, why are these ladies in jail?  Seems the wife and girlfriends found out about each other.  One of the girls lured him to the hotel room, tied him up and blindfolded him, telling him that she was going to give him a "rubdown".  He was game! After a quick text or two, the other ladies joined in the fun.  He says he got hit in the face but because the authorities are trying to protect lover boy's identity (WHAT!) there was no picture, so I'm not sure if it was a black-eye inducing hit or just a little love bop.  The girls did Krazy Glue his penis to his stomach but come on, how bad could that be?  I've Krazy Glued my fingers together lots of times.  It comes off in a few days.  Let the girls off already!  ...I'm just wondering, what angle did they use when they attached him to himself--did he have to duck when he went wee-wee?

What's happening in New York and Nantucket You Ask?

I just got back from a week in New York and a week in Nantucket.  For any of you that are planning to visit either, or just like to be in-the-know, you've come to the right place. Both are quieter than in previous visits due to the economy, but still way cooler (at least in the figurative sense) than most other places.

I was surprised by the store-front vacancies on Fifth Avenue, especially south of Saks.  The sidewalks were ridiculously easy to negotiate even with an open umbrella. Hell's Kitchen on the other hand was packed--restaurants, shops, and sidewalks.  It wasn't so long ago that this area lived-up to its name, now it competes for cool with the downtown destinations. It's a perfect place to have dinner before or after a show.  Speaking of...Jude Law is performing in Hamlet for a couple-a-month run starting in September.  I think the combination of this cool actor (so charming) and hot character (so complex) is worth the trip.  And if you're wondering what to wear, go with leggings.  Leggings with big shirts, belted or not, were all over the East Village.  The translation to fall should be leggings with big sweaters and stilettos or leggings with long jackets and riding boots.  Your leggings will probably be black, but hit the gym just to be on the safe side!

Nantucket is not a good place for tourist and this is a good thing.  Other than the great whaling museum there aren't a lot of places for the "tourist bus" to stop.  There are better beaches (for swimming), golf courses, and tennis courts all up and down the eastern seaboard.  Hanging out is what's happening--in the coffee shop, at the nude beach (you know who you are!), window shopping, or reading at the beach in the fog.  At night there are good restaurants with happening bar scenes (LoLa 41, Corazon Del Mar, 21 Federal) or you can stroll the ballast-paved Main Street and  probably catch some guy playing his guitar or a group of kids signing a capella (this should be done while eating fudge from Aunt Leah's or ice cream from the Juice Bar).  While leggings were on every hip woman in NY, Prosecco (Italy's version of champagne) was on every hip menu in Nantucket--yum yum!