Throw it out and call it art. Isn't that what we do, moms, when we create? Glue styrofoam cups together and you, too, might get a $500,000 genius grant. Seriously I would love to have the holiday times be one of giving of the self and creating, even just writing a letter of love. It is just not right, I think, that Black Friday came two days after Halloween at Kmart instead of the day after Thanksgiving (the retailer hopes to combat the dismal economy and slumping consumer spending). That is as bad as Skanky Costumes (my post that pulls in a lot of traffic in late October).
I think we'll all start to rebel, like Marcel Duchamp did with his idea of calling a urinal art and placing his signature upon it (who knew almost a century ago it would be voted the most influential piece of modern art?). So let's create for our gifts.
Rambling on about moms: a brain-damaged girl learns to speak. First words: I love you, mum.
Teenage sex? That Bristol Palin thing? New Yorker's Red Sex, Blue Sex is worth a read, is getting a ton of attention, and my exerpts are below:
The five states with the lowest median age at marriage are Utah, Oklahoma, Idaho, Arkansas, and Kentucky, all red states, while those with the highest are all blue: Massachusetts, New York, Rhode Island, Connecticut, and New Jersey. The red-state model puts couples at greater risk for divorce; women who marry before their mid-twenties are significantly more likely to divorce than those who marry later.
...in the blue-state scheme, people may postpone child-bearing to the point where infertility becomes an issue. And delaying child-bearing is better suited to the more affluent, for whom it yields economic benefits, in the form of educational opportunities and career advancement. But Carbone and Cahn argue that the red-state model is clearly failing on its own terms—producing high rates of teen pregnancy, divorce, sexually transmitted disease, and other dysfunctional outcomes that social conservatives say they abhor.
Sex and teenagers is the sticky wicket of the moment. Our cultural tar baby.
Enough of my ramble. Cheers.