Sunday, June 10, 2012

Becoming My Grandmothers

My mom's mom, Annie, is an absolute delight & I spent every summer with her growing up. She's an awesome Grandma & an equally fantastic lady who still loves to have fun. I used to love watching her doll up to go out on the town every Thursday night. Annie relished in her popularity. The simplest of errands invariably resulted in a gentleman approaching to say hello & flirt. "He used to want in my pants," she'd tease. It would probably be more polite to describe my Grandma as coquettish, but I lovingly tell her that she's a dirty old woman.

Grandma's evening routine always concluded with reading in bed. She was particularly fond of the lady mags featuring romantic short stories: True Story, True Romance, & True Confessions were her holy trinity of nighttime perusal. Knowing that I was an avid reader, she saved the monthlies throughout the year & started giving them to me for summer reading beginning when I was 12 or 13. It took a couple of months for my mother to figure out that I'd been reading starter smut all summer & sternly advised her mother that it was inappropriate reading material for a girl my age. Annie apologized & put the magazines away... until my mother went home. "Just don't tell tell your mom," Grandma shrugged.

My paternal grandmother, while very different from Annie, was equally loving. Grandma W was Catholic, conservative, well-educated, & overall a very upright lady. She was very proud of her inquisitive, bookworm granddaughter & earnestly encouraged reading & all manner of learning. Anytime I surprised her with a visit, I'd find her reading a book. Grandma W voraciously consumed paperback novels, always keeping them stowed a royal blue canvas cover that had a rainbow ribbon page marker.

One summer, she & my father took me on a day trip to COSI (Center of Science & Industry) in Columbus. She didn't have the energy to keep up with an excited 10 year old, so she took her book & sat next to the pendulum. We checked in with her after a few hours of exploring the exhibits & she smiled as I ran up to greet her. After breathlessly sharing what we'd seen so far, I looked down at her book & asked why she always used a book cover. Her face immediately became rigid. "Because it's not anyone's business what I'm reading." A few years later, probably right about the time I started thumbing through True Romances, I took a closer look at Grandma W's tall book shelves. Two deep & double stacked were hundreds of Harlequin Romances. Austere & respectable Grandma W was into bodice rippers. I never dared tease her about them, but I've always been amused by my very traditional grandmother's penchant for erotica.

Fast forward 20 (!) years & all I've heard for the past month are ladies murmuring about Fifty Shades of Grey. Eavesdropping in the nail salon last weekend, I listened as a woman boldly asserted that she'd heard so many contrasting reviews about the book that she was just going to read it for herself. "Some people say that it's really good, others say it's garbage. I've heard that it's easy to read, but I've also heard that it's really poorly written. And some of my friends... well, some of them have said that it's dirty," dropping her voice. I bluntly interrupt. "Um, I think that's the one thing that pretty much everyone agrees on: it's super dirty." She quickly nods. At that moment, I decide that I must read this book.

After my pampering, I read reviews on Amazon. As the woman whispering during her pedicure had noted, the color commentary was all over the place, but the general consensus remains that it's chock full of sex. I'm in, but Grandma W's wisdom suddenly resonated with me: I went stealth with my smut via Kindle download. The other commuters don't need to know what I'm reading.

I don't really have a lot to say about the Fifty Shades Trilogy. Yes, trilogy. I've read all 3 in the past week. Are they good? Eh, define good. These books are not great works of literature. The plot is thin & the language is mediocre. One must assume that the editor was, um, distracted by the scenery & rendered unable to provide any constructive criticism. But the pages are littered with gratuitous, hedonistic sex & that's what keeps 'em coming (so to speak) in droves to buy the books.

Sunday, June 3, 2012

The 80s Could Have Been WAY Worse

Last weekend, I learned that Jem is on Netflix. I won't go into details, but let's just say that I vigorously maintain that it's a cartoon with a solid plot & my weeknights have been pretty well shot since.

I LOVED Jem as a kid. My mom bought me one of the early edition Jem dolls. She had fantastic flashing earrings that lit up when you flipped a little switch between her shoulders. Naturally, Jem came with 2 outfits - the shiny, metallic rock star outfit + her Jerrica get-up that came with a matching beret used to conceal her pink hair. I had one spare - a yellow dress with an uneven hem - that I learned this week was actually Kimber's outfit. Oddly apt, I recall totally wanting to change my name to Kimber off & on between the 1st & 3rd grades. Gawd, I freaking loved that doll. Being raised an only child, I was not very good at sharing to begin with, but NO ONE touched Jem.

Jem is a holographic output of Synergy, who is conjured when Jerrica/Jem touches her enchanted earrings. When I explained this to my bemused husband, he asked, "so her earrings were sort of like a bluetooth?" Um, yeah. Kind of. That's when it occurred to me that the 80s could have been WAY worse. Wow.

The 1980s Me Decade was one of unbridled ambition, upward social mobility, & Reaganomics. It was an aggressive time & cocaine was the drug of choice. Maybe that's why exaggerated shoulder pads & big hair were so popular: they were safety features. Can you imagine the douchebaggery that would've prevailed had we added widespread cellphone & bluetooth usage to the mix? I just keep picturing Patrick Bateman tuning into the voices in his head, unawares that he's actually on the phone.

For me, the 80s is certainly viewed through the lens of childhood, but the decade clearly provided a springboard for the technology of today. Jerrica monopolized usage of the super-advanced Synergy to propel her into stardom via an alter ego. Didn't Snoop Dogg & Dr. Dre just do something like that at Coachella so they could rhyme with Tupac? Truly Outrageous.