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Tag Archives: Brenda Tobias

Text And The Single Girl

25 Oct

Every few years someone develops a treatment and possible cure for heterosexual female singlehood. This is also known more commonly (at family gatherings) as ‘why you’re not married.’ Somebody, usually a woman, looking for fame and fabulous prizes, develops a method and/or writes a book that will help you find a man. Not necessarily a good man, but damn it, a man. The strategies (which can be yours if you act now) are in one of two camps; ‘the 5-10 step strategy’ in landing a husband OR the ‘this is what’s wrong with you and why you can’t’ land a husband. Both of these approaches are based upon the theory that husbands are to be sought and to be enticed into matrimony. ‘Hold the rotary phone!’ you say? This is the 21st century! Women own homes, and have babies alone. Husbands have never been more socially or financially unnecessary.

But people wouldn’t be buying these books or the media wouldn’t be covering these stories if there weren’t an interest. While it would be thrilling to think there is parallel target marketing happening for men, the truth is there isn’t. Centuries have passed and single women are still being told that “what gentlemen say and what they thinks is two different things (and I ain’t noticed Mr. Ashley asking for to marry you.”) In other words; play the game and win the prize. The latest game focuses on the ‘be available to all men at all times and hope that someone will consider you the one‘ approach. Don’t expect to ever be asked out on a date or even called (he only texts), just always be available. That text at 2:00 AM? Answer it! Won’t it make for a cute bedtime story for your children some day? Go home with the guy who seems harmless enough. You never know where it might lead (except that you do, that’s why you’re going home with him.)

There is nothing wrong with enjoying the company of men (clothed or unclothed) but the very idea that the way to a committed lifetime partnership is by having zero standards or expectations is absurd. Is there a guy that you’d like to know better? Is he not making any actual moves towards a date? ASK HIM OUT! You are not locked in a tower and and needing to lower your hair extensions. You live in the same world as he does. Ask him out: for a specific date and time. (FYI: “You wanna go out sometime” doesn’t mean anything and will not result in a date.) If you’d rather not have your communications solely via text, then don’t answer the text, instead call him back and hear his voice. You needn’t be scary or stalky about it; a simple “I’m a lousy texter” should do the trick.

Getting to know new people and (YES) dating is supposed to be fun. There is nothing fun about accepting whatever male attention scraps are dropped in your path. People want to feel special and appreciated; those are the first steps to romance. Unless that 2:00 AM text is originating from space or contains the message; “Just landed in Rome and realized I can’t live another moment without you” it’s not going to make you feel too special or appreciated. Ask for what you want, behave the way you wish others would behave, and you might just create the life you were always meant to live.

 
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Posted by on October 25, 2012 in Cultural Critique, Marriage/Wedding

 

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The Painted As Performance

24 Oct

I remember the first time I saw someone wearing body paint as performance art. It was in New Orleans at the dawn of the 21st century. I was so startled by the minimalist art of the performance that I took a photo. I attributed the monochrome wings to the locale; steeped with after-life mysticism. It was a statement, one that eluded me, but a statement nonetheless. Perhaps the painted lady intended for us to contemplate the fine line between the living and the dead and accepted coins and paper money for her illuminative efforts. Or she was just a savvy out of work mime.

Fast forward to the latter part of 2012 and you can’t swing an angel without hitting a painted person accepting your coins and paper money. If you’ve been to any city lately you’ve no doubt had the thought; “body paint! I should invest in body paint!” In New York City painting oneself green and holding a torch is all the rage. There is no accurate head count, but there must be dozens of these elongated green people (they seem to often be on stilts or boxes which speaks to a commitment that cannot be ignored.) And while it’s challenging to consider how one’s life can lead to being covered in green paint working across the street from the Plaza, it is theatre of a sort. Certainly he or she can start each day, contemplating his or her perpetually stained cuticles and think; there are actresses all across this great land Defying Gravity and scraping green paint from under their Wicked nails. Or perhaps the performer, while greening up, repeats; “bring me your tired, your poor” in a slightly sultry french accent. Sometime during the long tourist pawing, bad joke hearing, horse poo smelling day; the performer may bolster his/her self with the thought that the final scene of The Way We Were was shot on this very spot. One way or another, the green can (through creative thinking) consider his or her self an actor.

But what of the silver guy? Or the bronze man? There are people who cover themselves in metallic paint and stand stock still and then move slightly. That is their “talent”! Come on! Everyone’s got something they can do, even if it’s just covering yourself in lightbulbs. But standing still and then moving? Perhaps these metallic motionless men misunderstood the trend in the 1980s of human mannequins? There was a (mercifully) brief period when humans would be hired to pose as mannequins in store windows. Passers-by would be surprised when the mannequins moved (ever so slowly.) This particularly gimmick works once; or twice for the easily entertained. The mime couple (yep! there was such a thing) Shields & Yarnell were mannequin act royalty. But you see the mannequin gimmick is based on the fact that mannequins aren’t expected to move. Metallic people have no reason to be standing still in the first place. They need a backstory. What’s their motivation? Perhaps if they were to carry an ax and wear a funnel on their head? For a small donation passers by could work the oil can. It would be interactive and fun for all ages. It would also curtail those mutterings from passers by; “I don’t get it, I just don’t get it.”

 
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Posted by on October 24, 2012 in Cultural Critique

 

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The Drink Dope

23 Oct

 

A lawsuit has been filed against a manufacturer of ‘energy’ drinks. The suit is the result of injury (and death) of children after consuming the caffeine-laced beverage. It is logical to assume that this will be the start of regulation. To the average non-Red Bull, Cocaine(!),Monster, 5-Hour Energy, Rock Star, consumer this would seem pretty intuitive. Caffeine is a drug; a legal drug that has evaded regulation in this country. Nicotine used to enjoy that kind of status as well. Cigarettes were available for sale (or given away for free) any and everywhere. Cigarette machines eventually had little adhesive labels declaring cigarette sales being intended for people over age 18. What teenager doesn’t tremble and back away from an adhesive label? Cigarettes haven’t (slowly) shied from the teen market because of the hazards of the drug nicotine, but of the smoke inhalation. But it still makes for a plausible template.

A beverage whose very intention is to alter the body chemistry is not appropriate for children. On a good day most of us would concur with this. But we would also agree that regulating anything is just a giant pain in the behind. The beverage industry is no doubt gearing up for a fight as we speak. They will counter with examples of unregulated sources of caffeine. Charts and graphs will be exhibited declaring chocolate milk as laden with as much of the drug as a grande macchiato. Gatorade and vitamin-laced waters will enter into the arguments. Coffee carts will form a single-file demonstration. In short, a circus will ensue.

Let us assume (for the sake of all that’s decent) that parents are not purchasing caffeine-laced drinks for their children. What would be more effective (and less hair raising) than outlawing sales to children is to outlaw marketing of drug products to children. Children aren’t buying caffeine delivery beverages because they thought of it on their own. They buy them to look cool and be like their friends who buy them to look cool and be like the advertisement. Of course they’ll never admit this. Don’t believe me? Go to a school right now and ask the guzzlers why they’re guzzling. “Gotta wake up” “Gotta test” They believe they need the effects of the beverage. Do we really want our kids believing they need drugs to get through the day?

Death and serious illness/injury from caffeine is probably rare. But this lawsuit speaks to something more universal. There is no reason in the world to train children to use drugs to improve their performance. Their bodies and minds are still developing. Soon enough they will be fully grown and can make informed decisions.

 
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Posted by on October 23, 2012 in Childhood, Media/Marketing

 

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Ah Betty

21 Oct

Like a rare precious gem is the performer who possesses every qualification of a diva save the diva-ness. Betty Buckley has a voice to match the angels in its glory*, a resume to beat the band and the warmth and palatable sense of fun of a favorite (glamorous) friend. She is packing the (soon to be shuttered) house at Feinstein’s for the month of October in what’s become an annual highlight of the season.

This year Ms. Buckley is moving on from the Ah Men (of 2011), to The Other Woman:The Vixens of Broadway. Now the only thing better than the men’s songs in musical theatre are those of the second, supporting or featured actress. The supporting female roles are meaty and often far more interesting than the leads. What better catalogue to sink one’s teeth! While known for big Broadway roles and work on the screen; Ms. Buckley conveys a soul of a jazz artist. The artist is in perfect voice and it is one that moves seamlessly between thoughtful, quiet interpretation and raising the roof power.

Ms. Buckley selects several of her favorites and puts her own personal, and often delicate, spin on each. When You’re Good To Mama is sung to several audience members while tousling hairs. Her playful interpretation is enchanting and often missing in other’s performances of this song. A dynamo of a pastiche (words by Eric Kornfeld, musical adaptation by Eric Stern) paints a portrait of the supporting female lead to the melody of Gotta Have A Gimmick (Gypsy), Memory (Cats) and Little Girls (Annie). It is wonderfully funny and clever and a keeper. Other highlights include; I Can’t Say No (Oklahoma), The Miller’s Son (A Little Night Music), I Know Things Now (Into The Woods) and Another Suitcase In Another Hall (Evita). Ms. Buckley’s band (with the musical director/arranger Christian Jacob on piano) is fluid and jazzy and a perfect balance for the singer’s artistry. For two songs, Ms. Buckley is joined on stage by silky voiced and utterly charming Adam Berry. The evening ended with Corner of the Sky (Pippin) a song with a soaring melody and a sensible philosophy. A night with Betty Buckley guarantees that one’s life will be something more than long.

*Meadowlark (1989) – Stephen Schwartz

 
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Posted by on October 21, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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And You Too, Can Be A Star

19 Oct

A review of the new film Sessions refers to one character as a ‘sex therapist.’ The therapist’s job, as described in the review, is to have sex with a client. Sex can be therapeutic, but a ‘sex therapist’ is an actual therapist. Psychiatrists and psychologists specialize in sex therapy (the study and treatment of sexual dysfunction.) Treatment involves talk therapy and homework assignments (homework not tutorials!) Are there sex therapists (or scout leaders, coaches, pediatricians, dentists) who have engaged in unethical and criminal behavior while on the job? Sure. But a sex therapist does not by definition engage in sex for pay. The review goes on to describe this character as a sex surrogate (how did such a straightforward career end up with so many titles?)

What ever happened to good old-fashioned prostitutes? When is the last time you even heard that word? Everyone’s and escort or a call girl, or I suppose a sex surrogate. I’m not sure the working conditions change much with a new title. Director of correspondence control is still a mailroom clerk. But everyone likes a fancy title. Personally, I find the title; “stripper” far more attractive than that of dancer. Stripper conjures up an act or at least a gimmick. Dancer is a bored practically nude women swinging from a pole. And if that girl leaves the stage to squirm on a drunken businessman in a back room, she’s not just a dancer she’s a surrogate. And what of all men and women in the corps de ballet? Does every introduction now have to be followed with; “no, really, an actual dancer”?

Who doesn’t enjoy a little spin? We like to put the best face on things. Our children are all doing incredibly well and everyone that’s remotely related to us is gifted. But when did we decide that being a prostitute is somehow undesirable but being an escort was understandable? Do we really think that all those dancers are making their way through law school, but strippers are simply down on their luck? (And for the record these professions and terms are not gender-specific.) For some reason the sex professions enjoy more than their fair share of spin (there’s a burlesque joke in there somewhere.) Nobody acts in pornographic movies; they are porn STARS. Nobody poses naked for pornographic magazines; they are CENTERFOLDS. There must be bold-faced terminology for internet pornography as well (feel free to leave me in the dark.)

In the end a rose is a rose is a rose I suppose. But it’s not a help to the therapeutic community to call a person who has sex with clients for money a “sex therapist.” It’s strangely apt, but not all that helpful to that other profession.

 
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Posted by on October 19, 2012 in Cultural Critique

 

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