Apt. 11D

Other Oscar

Having fun reading snarky posts on the Oscars. Here are a few: Vindauga, Dan, Crooked Timber.

Can I just whine about the very little eye candy for this blogger at the Oscars? Yeah, Salma Hyack and Penelope Cruz looked fine. What did I get? A smirking Dustin Hoffman? A botoxed Antonio Banderas? The weather-beaten guy from Wings?

Not a good crop of babes this year.

I'm Just a Blogger From a Trailer Park...

I'm just a girl from a trailer park. I can't believe I'm here.

Oooo-kay. That's enough self-love for one night. Flip off the Oscars. Time to blog for a few minutes before bed. (Though blogging is sorta self-love, too. Nevermind.)

We were double booked for parties today. A baby shower in Brooklyn at 1:30 and a birthday party in Westchester at 3:30. I drove out to the Brooklyn and met up with Steve and the boys later in Westchester.

New Jersey to Brooklyn to Westchester to New Jersey. That meant lots of time in the car. Lots of time in the car borrowed from my parents. Lots of time in the parents' car with a radio that only plays conservative talk radio. As I sat in god-awful traffic heading into the Lincoln tunnel and later navigating through the depths of Brooklyn, I listened to discussion on the topic of the day -- the Oscars and the Hollywood establishment.

The radio people are very upset at Hollywood for lots of reasons. First, there are not enough conservative movies or actors in Hollywood. Sure, there's Mel and the Passion, but that's it. He's no match for the army of lefites -- Sean Penn, Tim Robbins, and so on.

Second, the movies that don't have any political message are objectionable because they aren't upbeat. The radio host was very upset with Sideways. Major downer, baby. He said that more suitable subject matter would be uplifting, show our troops in a positive manner, and celebrate the American way of life. The average American thinks that those artsy, Miramax films are wierd. (Personally, I am a big fan of wierd. Just saw Napoleon Dynomite, which I don't think would please the radio people much. )

Third, it's clear that ideology rather than profit drives the Hollywood establishment, because the Passion of Christ made a ton of money. If they were solely driven by a profit motive, then they would make more religious films.

Fourth, it's an Establishment. Hollywood is dominated by a few, very liberal individuals, whose aim is to indoctrinate the masses. (Well, they must not be very effective. Both houses and the president are controlled by Republicans. Is that an Establishment, too?)

The host urged a boycott. Stop going to films and handing them $8.50 to see some wierdo go on about his preference for Pinot Noir and disgust for Merlot.

Do you think that the radio dude made any good points? For every Fahrenheit 9/11, should there be an opportunity for a conservative film maker to do his thing? Is there something elitist about the Oscar night that turns off average Americans? The expensive jewels and corny self-love speeches could be turning people off, as much as the politics.

(spell check and links tomorrow)

Terry Shiavo

Until I read this post and link from Dean Esmay (via Chris Lawrence), I hadn't been following the Terry Shiavo case. From what I heard, she was brain dead; there was no life to support. But it seems that this case isn't so simple.

UPDATE: Go here for more links and discussion on the topic of Terry Schiavo. I'm closing comments here; discussion will continue at the new post.

Ability and Opportunity

There's been a lot of talk this week about women thanks to Larry Summer's remarks and Judith Warner's book.

I've provided links to the discussion on the web, but haven't waded in. In part, because I feel like I've already addressed many of these issues on the blog before. Terribly boring to repeat myself. I've also held myself back because I've been really busy this week.

Ian's not feeling well. Runny nose and fever. He needs a lot of attention when he's sick, like any two year old. But it's also a bit worse, since he can't talk. When he's sick, he screams all the time in frustration. Too ill to nap, he hasn't given me a break in days.

Also, Steve's home this week to tear apart out kitchen. The walls are covered in Holly-Hobby-like wallpaper -- cutesy brown flowers on the top and stripes on the bottom. I've been peeling it off for days, which is oddly satisfying. Sort of like picking dead skin off a sunburn. My dad and Steve have been hacking away at the floor with pitchforks to remove three layers of linoleum and two layers of plywood. At the bottom of the sedimentary layers of other homeowners, we found hardwood. I hope to paint it with Benjamin Moore Industrial White before the week's over.

It's been nearly impossible to write something coherent this week. Life's intervening. But I've got Ian playing on Steve's computer for the moment, so let me take a shot.

First, in response to the many claims that women don't like politics, they don't like the hardball interchange of ideas, and they prefer to talk about other topics. Ugggh!!! I can't stand that shit. I love politics. I have the reputation of taking the opposite point of view of whatever group I'm with, just to get debate going. Just because I write about the cute guys on Lost and art, but doesn't mean the op-ed page of the Times is wrapping my fish.

Am I typical? My family is more political than the average family, but there are a lot of other women out there who take joy in political exchange. The last time I taught Introduction to American Politics, 42 students were female and 8 were male.

And you should know that I've got some game. Give me some prep time, and I'll kick your butt in a political debate. Really. Enough said on that.

So we have interest and ability on one side of town, and we have opportunity on the other. Here's where I've faced some difficulties.

Others may have been less lucky, but I faced no problems with sexism until I had kids. I went through graduate school faster than most guys, and my professors treated me with as much respect as others. If I never had kids, I am sure that I would be on the tenure track somewhere.

But I had kids (with one needing extra TLC) and I suddenly, unexpectedly hit a brick wall. While they are young, I can not compete with the guys. Even if I had them in fulltime daycare, I wouldn't be able to compete. I'm distracted. I'm busy. I'm tired.

Does this bother me? Hell, yeah. I'm like Mary Decker Tabb who's been tripped by Zola Budd screaming in frustration as the pack runs by. I'll never catch up.

Kids are the number one reason that women aren't able to compete with the big boys. Not ability or interest.

Then there are all the women who cry when they have to go back to work, because they have to. These women who don't want a career, but would rather be home. Their situation is a worse tragedy than the lack of women in high powered career positions.

What to do about it? McArdle and Podhoretz have pooh-poohed governmental solutions. I don't know. Republicans don't seem shy about upping government spending when it comes to their pet issues. But I'm not going to push this point, because I'm not sure if governmental programs can rectify these problems, which are far too huge.

(It's time to get lunch ready for sick-boy and the flooring ripping guys downstairs. I'm going to post this even though it's still rough and unfinished. )

Update: I just can't finish this post. I seem to have gotten Ian's cold and am feeling rather achy.

Spreading the Love

Women don't like politics. Women don't like the sciences. Women can't be intellectual. I'm holding back the urge to blow chunks. Women, especially those with kids, face a lot of obstacles and may temporarily choose other career paths, but... please... Can we stop talking about this nonsense? Here, Dan Drezner has a list of women public intellectuals that address issues other than menstrual cramps and Dr. Phil.

Flea writes about Hunter Thompson and other guys who know how to show a lady a nice time.

The Powerline people take aim at PZ Myers and evolution.

To send automatic letters to local and national officials about your support for the Family and Medical Leave Act, use this link.

Megan McArdle has a series of posts on women and work: here, here, and here.

Read Jo(e).

The Gates

We just came back from seeing Jean-Claude and Christo's Gates in Central Park.

Wow.

The bright winter sun shone through the orange sheets. They fluttered and billowed in the wind. Their reflection shimmered in the melting snow puddles. Central Park was a new place. The white snow, the trees black with the melting snow, and the winding orange paths.

You could visit the Gates ten times in one day and have a different experience as the light and the weather changed.

The kids ran down the park paths. I ran ahead shooting pictures as fast as I could.

The Gates are the most important public art in New York City in years. Art has been the topic of conversation for the past week.

My sister laughed at all the nicknames that have been given to this exhibition. Shmatas on a Stick. Sheets in the Wind.

Toni wondered whether anyone should spend $20 million dollars on art when there was hunger in the world.

And Susan marvelled at the lack of corporate sponsorship signs and that everyone can experience art without a $20 admission fee or a long line.

This conversation and interest is fantastic. Other cities, like Chicago, have massive pieces of public art by Picasso and Chagall. New York City has always been lacking in public art, perhaps because the whole city is itself art. Instead, art is housed within hidden galleries and fortress-like museums.

The Gates is available to everyone. Its size and simplicity evoke immediate response. Millions of people looked at the park through new eyes.

Today, we ran through art on a warm winter day.

We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold.

Bad news about Hunter.

The Grand Clean

My in-laws are in for the weekend. They're downstairs chilling out on the sofa recovering from the gluttony of the weekend. I'm Italian. I'm good at feeding people.

What I am not good at is clean my house with regularity. I need the pressure of guests to make the place shelter-magazine ready. Incoming guests force me to clean the tub. I am very good at keeping clutter in order. I'm very bad at cleaning messes that I can't see without glasses or contacts.

Anticipating a Blitzkrieg clean the morning before they arrived, I conserved energy and let the bathroom sink get fuzzy for a week or two. Okay, three.

The Grand Clean commensed on Friday night and into Saturday morning. We vacuumed two floors, wiped up two bathrooms, hit the kitchen stove with Fantastik, and moped down the linoleum. We were very efficient. In fact, we peaked too early, and had to televize the kids for two hours until the in-laws came in. We didn't want the savages to undo our good work.

A lot more tomorrow.

I'm Way Lost

So, who else is watching Lost?

Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on? What's with the whispering? The French woman? The door in the ground?

I'm soooo confused. I'm also watching Carnevale, and I'm equally befuddled. Is this the new trend in TV? Freak out the viewer to win ratings?

I started watching Lost because of Matthew Fox who kept me glued to Party of Five even after Charlie got Hogkins and his girl friend went crazy and the other brother became an alkie. Fine television. But you know, I don't think Fox is the cutest of the Lost cast. I'm liking Sayid, but Sawyer is also growing on me.

Women in Academia (Again)

There's quite a to do going on in the brainy blogosphere about Larry Summers. Read Crooked Timber, Prof. B, and Brad deLong.

I made some comments, but I'm more interested in seeing all this unfolds. The topic came up on my blog previously here and here.