So, this will make the most sense to J-Bro, Mikey J and my under-30-but-just-barely youngest brother.
But the other day I was hanging out with little G, who is a month away from his first day of Kindergarten (!) and a little over two months away from his sixth birthday (!!). We were playing some mini golf (which, by the way, we are not going to do any more. He tied me. That is, as Karen would say, PA-THE-TIC and I'm not going to put myself in a position to get my ass kicked by a munchkin, if for no other reason than the fact that I can't do what I usually do when I'm losing at putt-putt, which is to stomp around swearing and throwing a club and almost taking out the head of the person I'm playing with. But I digress.) So we were playing some mini-golf and I hit this one ok shot and G says to me, "that was a pretty good shot, Bro."
In my head I asked, "Did the little man just call me bro? I mean, really?" but I didn't say anything to him.
Later on I took him to Red Robin. He was a little hesitant, since he has apparently not ever been to Red Robin before. But I tried to assure him by explaining that Red Robin actually exists for 6 year-olds like him. A milkshake later, he was singing the praises of the Robin, just like I knew he would. Then he hits me with it again. "This milkshake is excellent, Bro."
I couldn't let it pass this time. I said, "What did you just say?" and he answered, "Bro, this milkshake is awesome."
"Hey, um, G? Who says 'bro'?" And he replied, I shit you not,
"Everyone says 'bro'. Everyone at school. We all say it all the time. Like, 'come outside and play in the sandbox, bro'. And, 'I know bro, Darth Vader is my favorite Star Wars guy too.' You know, we all say it. But you know Ellie? She's the one who started it."
ARG. It is everything that is terrible about peer pressure. Forget just saying no to drugs. What is the worst that can happen? You alienate people in your life, start stealing from your parents or girlfriend, maybe end up dead or in rehab? There are worse things! Like ending up serving coffee from a hut in the middle of a parking lot on Foster, wearing a puka shell necklace and flip flops, not understanding the irony of the phrase, "thanks a latte."
I want more for G than that. A lot more. So I am trying to convince him to "just say no to bro." I'll let you know how the campaign goes. If it is successful, perhaps I can convince First Lady Michelle Obama or First Lady Cindy McCain to take it national. Maybe we could really turn things around for G's generation.
Damn that Ellie.
Showing posts with label language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label language. Show all posts
09 July 2008
01 May 2008
In the interest
of full disclosure, I feel like I should admit that I went to see Baby Mama with Nikki last weekend. She had good reasons for wanting to see it--particularly in terms of wanting to see how the film dealt with race. I had no such critical curiosity. I just went because she suggested it, and it looked sort of funny.
Now, I'm not going to spend a lot of time really "reviewing" this film, but I thought that I would share with you some of the impressions/experiences that accompanied seeing the film.
1. What is truly great is about this film is seeing 2 women who have serious on-screen chemistry and are funny. This is a very, very rare thing. I read a review that suggested that this was a "chick flick" which actually surprised me. I didn't think of it as such when I saw the trailer, although I can understand that categorization now that I've seen the film. That said, I think that it does Fey/Poehler a disservice as a comedy team because I'm pretty sure that they can make dudes laugh. And everyone (guys and lesbians alike) seems to understand that Tina Fey has that smart/sexy thing going on. (Like someone I know who occasionally reads this blog, so I will not call her out, but I think that most of us know who I am talking about. OR like a certain short, brunette, bespectacled and nervous PSU prof--)
2. I found too much of the humor in the beginning of the film uncomfortable because I realized I was laughing because it felt true. In one scene, Tina Fey, who now knows that her t-shaped uterus is not conducive to conceiving and bearing a child, coos and waves to a baby looking at her over its mother's shoulder. Then she leans in and actually makes contact with the baby. I have done this. I have, for my own gratification, talked to, made eyes at, and even touched, some stranger's baby. It's disturbing, I know, but it's like I can't help it. (And apparently I am not the only woman to have done so.) Anyway, I can assure you that this is not a comfortable thing to see reflected back to you in a film.
3. The film makes fun of Whole Foods. And that is funny. Steve Martin is integral to the humor surrounding this storyline, and that makes it even funnier.
4. This was much more of a romantic comedy than either of us expected. I don't know if that is good or bad. Since I generally hate romantic comedies (except Secretary--which I know some of you don't consider a romantic comedy, and If Lucy Fell--shut your damn trap, Marcus), I suppose that is mostly bad.
5. (And this is actually the thing that I most want to say about the experience of this film.) The worst part of Baby Mama, for me, was having to buy my ticket to it. Because I had to say the name of the film. Out loud. And that turned out to be a problem. There are two issues here: first, I think that I was a little embarrassed to be seeing the film in the first place. And I am somewhat concerned about my "cool" in that I DO, on occasion, worry that the book or music that I am buying, or the film that I am renting or seeing somehow makes me not look at all cool. I am guilty of trying to pass some of this consumption off as "ironic". It is because I do actually care what people who work around these particular cultural products think about me. It's lame. I know it is lame. I know that people who work at bookstores aren't all that cool (given the fact that I have worked at bookstores myself, and know lots of other people who have too), but I'm still weirdly worried about it.
This, of course, all goes back to the horrible over-identification I (and many others--c'mon, a lot of you do this too) have with my "things." I know in my head that I am not my CD collection, my library, my DVDs (oh god, I wonder what 8 seasons worth of Charmed really says about me--), my jewelry and barrettes, but part of me does believe that these things are who I am. And, frankly, there are some possessions that do, in fact, seem to stand in for me to the world outside. (I am thinking specifically about my hello kitty traveler's mug, which I am starting to develop a bit of a complex about.) What all of this means is that I am quite susceptible to the judgment of others about these things, particularly to the judgment of those who pedal the crap with which I surround myself.
But maybe that is a bit of a digression. The second reason that buying the ticket pained me was that I had to utter the phrase "baby mama" aloud, to a stranger. I am not linguistically daring. This is part of the reason why I suck at foreign languages. I don't like to sound stupid. And saying a phrase like "baby mama", which has no business coming out of my mouth, ever, for any reason, makes me feel stupid. And, frankly, I can't say it without sounding really uptight and awkward and, well, white. The phrase sticks in my mouth, I feel and sound self-conscious using it, and it ends up sounding that much more ridiculous. It is very much like when I try to say something in French, which also comes out sounding really uptight, awkward, and, well, American.
Ultimately it is probably good for me to have to use language that I am not comfortable with and that I don't own. But I couldn't help thinking that someone was out there laughing at me for doing it--and paying to do it--in this case--
Now, I'm not going to spend a lot of time really "reviewing" this film, but I thought that I would share with you some of the impressions/experiences that accompanied seeing the film.
1. What is truly great is about this film is seeing 2 women who have serious on-screen chemistry and are funny. This is a very, very rare thing. I read a review that suggested that this was a "chick flick" which actually surprised me. I didn't think of it as such when I saw the trailer, although I can understand that categorization now that I've seen the film. That said, I think that it does Fey/Poehler a disservice as a comedy team because I'm pretty sure that they can make dudes laugh. And everyone (guys and lesbians alike) seems to understand that Tina Fey has that smart/sexy thing going on. (Like someone I know who occasionally reads this blog, so I will not call her out, but I think that most of us know who I am talking about. OR like a certain short, brunette, bespectacled and nervous PSU prof--)
2. I found too much of the humor in the beginning of the film uncomfortable because I realized I was laughing because it felt true. In one scene, Tina Fey, who now knows that her t-shaped uterus is not conducive to conceiving and bearing a child, coos and waves to a baby looking at her over its mother's shoulder. Then she leans in and actually makes contact with the baby. I have done this. I have, for my own gratification, talked to, made eyes at, and even touched, some stranger's baby. It's disturbing, I know, but it's like I can't help it. (And apparently I am not the only woman to have done so.) Anyway, I can assure you that this is not a comfortable thing to see reflected back to you in a film.
3. The film makes fun of Whole Foods. And that is funny. Steve Martin is integral to the humor surrounding this storyline, and that makes it even funnier.
4. This was much more of a romantic comedy than either of us expected. I don't know if that is good or bad. Since I generally hate romantic comedies (except Secretary--which I know some of you don't consider a romantic comedy, and If Lucy Fell--shut your damn trap, Marcus), I suppose that is mostly bad.
5. (And this is actually the thing that I most want to say about the experience of this film.) The worst part of Baby Mama, for me, was having to buy my ticket to it. Because I had to say the name of the film. Out loud. And that turned out to be a problem. There are two issues here: first, I think that I was a little embarrassed to be seeing the film in the first place. And I am somewhat concerned about my "cool" in that I DO, on occasion, worry that the book or music that I am buying, or the film that I am renting or seeing somehow makes me not look at all cool. I am guilty of trying to pass some of this consumption off as "ironic". It is because I do actually care what people who work around these particular cultural products think about me. It's lame. I know it is lame. I know that people who work at bookstores aren't all that cool (given the fact that I have worked at bookstores myself, and know lots of other people who have too), but I'm still weirdly worried about it.
This, of course, all goes back to the horrible over-identification I (and many others--c'mon, a lot of you do this too) have with my "things." I know in my head that I am not my CD collection, my library, my DVDs (oh god, I wonder what 8 seasons worth of Charmed really says about me--), my jewelry and barrettes, but part of me does believe that these things are who I am. And, frankly, there are some possessions that do, in fact, seem to stand in for me to the world outside. (I am thinking specifically about my hello kitty traveler's mug, which I am starting to develop a bit of a complex about.) What all of this means is that I am quite susceptible to the judgment of others about these things, particularly to the judgment of those who pedal the crap with which I surround myself.
But maybe that is a bit of a digression. The second reason that buying the ticket pained me was that I had to utter the phrase "baby mama" aloud, to a stranger. I am not linguistically daring. This is part of the reason why I suck at foreign languages. I don't like to sound stupid. And saying a phrase like "baby mama", which has no business coming out of my mouth, ever, for any reason, makes me feel stupid. And, frankly, I can't say it without sounding really uptight and awkward and, well, white. The phrase sticks in my mouth, I feel and sound self-conscious using it, and it ends up sounding that much more ridiculous. It is very much like when I try to say something in French, which also comes out sounding really uptight, awkward, and, well, American.
Ultimately it is probably good for me to have to use language that I am not comfortable with and that I don't own. But I couldn't help thinking that someone was out there laughing at me for doing it--and paying to do it--in this case--
29 April 2008
Reseach is Delightful
Or at least it turns up the unexpected sometimes, which is almost always delightful.
Here are a couple of of shining moments from this morning's readings.
First, in Alison Lurie's Boys and Girls Forever: Children's classics from Cinderella to Harry Potter, there is a chapter about Iona Opie's The People in the Playground and Barrie Thorne's Gender Play. Both books are sociological treatments of playground culture. For those of you who are not familiar--Iona Opie is one half of the most famous child-ologist couple in the world (that totally is not a technical term, by the way). Peter and Iona Opie spent most of the 20th century studying and recording child-lore--playground games and rhymes, nursery rhymes, fairy tales, counting and alphabet games and so on--in Great Britain. Their body of work is incredible--and really useful for the kind of work that I do.
Anyway, as you can imagine, some of the stuff that they collected is really strange and wonderful and sort of embarrassing sometimes too. Lurie quotes the following from The People in the Playground which I think is amazing, and which I have not heard before. (Opie heard it on a North England playground in the 1970s.)
One banana, two banana, three banana, four,
Fifteen skinheads knocking at the door,
Five with machine guns, five with sticks,
Five with hand grenades handing from their---
la la la la la
Lurie uses this rhyme as "[proof] again that it is impossible to shield children from contemporary life." I should say so.
The second piece of show and tell for this morning comes from Richard Hoggart's The Uses of Literacy. He's discussing the fact that "mass media" has been slow to change the habits of oral communication among the British working class (something I've always wondered about in terms of American slang/accents. Why doesn't everyone talk like they do on TV and in the movies? This is, maybe, a question that presents itself most naturally to a girl from the West coast like myself). As an offer of proof, Hoggart supplies several phrases overheard "from a bright, pastel-shade distempered and tubular furnished waiting-room of a children's clinic." Where, "[a] handful of drab and untidy mothers were waiting with their children, and the conversation dribbled on aimlessly but easily about their habits." Here is my favorite of the phrases, along with Hoggart's "translation" in parenthesis.
"Y' don't look at the mantelpiece when y' poke the fire" (a woman doesn't need to be pretty to make sexual intercourse with her enjoyable)
I'm totally going to be on the lookout for situations into which I can insert that gem. I invite you to do the same. Let's bring that one back, people.
Here are a couple of of shining moments from this morning's readings.
First, in Alison Lurie's Boys and Girls Forever: Children's classics from Cinderella to Harry Potter, there is a chapter about Iona Opie's The People in the Playground and Barrie Thorne's Gender Play. Both books are sociological treatments of playground culture. For those of you who are not familiar--Iona Opie is one half of the most famous child-ologist couple in the world (that totally is not a technical term, by the way). Peter and Iona Opie spent most of the 20th century studying and recording child-lore--playground games and rhymes, nursery rhymes, fairy tales, counting and alphabet games and so on--in Great Britain. Their body of work is incredible--and really useful for the kind of work that I do.
Anyway, as you can imagine, some of the stuff that they collected is really strange and wonderful and sort of embarrassing sometimes too. Lurie quotes the following from The People in the Playground which I think is amazing, and which I have not heard before. (Opie heard it on a North England playground in the 1970s.)
One banana, two banana, three banana, four,
Fifteen skinheads knocking at the door,
Five with machine guns, five with sticks,
Five with hand grenades handing from their---
la la la la la
Lurie uses this rhyme as "[proof] again that it is impossible to shield children from contemporary life." I should say so.
The second piece of show and tell for this morning comes from Richard Hoggart's The Uses of Literacy. He's discussing the fact that "mass media" has been slow to change the habits of oral communication among the British working class (something I've always wondered about in terms of American slang/accents. Why doesn't everyone talk like they do on TV and in the movies? This is, maybe, a question that presents itself most naturally to a girl from the West coast like myself). As an offer of proof, Hoggart supplies several phrases overheard "from a bright, pastel-shade distempered and tubular furnished waiting-room of a children's clinic." Where, "[a] handful of drab and untidy mothers were waiting with their children, and the conversation dribbled on aimlessly but easily about their habits." Here is my favorite of the phrases, along with Hoggart's "translation" in parenthesis.
"Y' don't look at the mantelpiece when y' poke the fire" (a woman doesn't need to be pretty to make sexual intercourse with her enjoyable)
I'm totally going to be on the lookout for situations into which I can insert that gem. I invite you to do the same. Let's bring that one back, people.
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