Total Perspective Vortex
What really happened to Trillian? Theories abound, but you can see what she's really been up to on this blog. If you're looking for white mice, depressed robots, or the occasional Pan Galactic Gargleblaster you might be better served here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/cult/hitchhikers/guide/.
Don't just sit there angry and ranting, do something constructive.
In the words of Patti Smith (all hail Sister Patti): People have the power.
Contact your elected officials.
Don't be passive = get involved = make a difference.
Words are cool.
The English language is complex, stupid, illogical, confounding, brilliant, beautiful, and fascinating.
Every now and then a word presents itself that typifies all the maddeningly gorgeousness of language. They're the words that give you pause for thought. "Who came up with that word? That's an interesting string of letters." Their beauty doesn't lie in their definition (although that can play a role). It's also not in their onomatopoeia, though that, too, can play a role. Their beauty is in the way their letters combine - the visual poetry of words - and/or the way they sound when spoken. We talk a lot about music we like to hear and art we like to see, so let's all hail the unsung heroes of communication, poetry and life: Words.
Here are some I like. (Not because of their definition.)
Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Smart Girls
(A Trillian de-composition, to the tune of Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys)
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Smart girls ain’t easy to love and they’re above playing games
And they’d rather read a book than subvert themselves
Kafka, Beethoven and foreign movies
And each night alone with her cat
And they won’t understand her and she won’t die young
She’ll probably just wither away
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
A smart girl loves creaky old libraries and lively debates
Exploring the world and art and witty reparteé
Men who don’t know her won’t like her and those who do
Sometimes won’t know how to take her
She’s rarely wrong but in desperation will play dumb
Because men hate that she’s always right
Mama don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
Don’t let them do puzzles and read lots of books
Make ‘em be strippers and dancers and such
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be smart girls
They’ll never find men and they’re always alone
Even though men claim they want brains
Life(?) of Trillian
Single/Zero
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Area single woman Tricia McMillian, a self-acknowledged science fiction fan, recently spent 165 minutes viewing the 2014 blockbuster film Interstellar. The local woman chose a Thursday night to spend 2.75 hours viewing the galactic tale so as to not feel even more pathetic about watching an almost three hour movie at home, alone, on a weekend night.
She explains, "I knew how long the movie is, but I didn't want to watch it on a weekend because, well, I'm already depressed about spending my weekend evenings alone. I don't need to amplify my obvious loser nerd facet anymore than is already abundantly apparent. So I waited for an work night when I was able to leave week before 6:00 and then raced home, put on my comfiest pajamas, laid out snacks and beverages and let 'er rip. Doing that alone on a Thursday night seemed far less depressing than it would have felt on a weekend evening."
When asked if Interstellar lived up to the hype and if she enjoyed it, the area woman shrugged and offered this review, "Meh, I dunno, I guess it was a good way to spend an evening alone. I mean, what else was I going to do with those two hours and 45 minutes? But it's been done before and more efficiently. It only took Rod Serling 25 minutes to poignantly and effectively cover the same topic in the Twilight Episode titled The Long Morrow."
As of press time the local science fiction fan was creating a spreadsheet of blockbuster movies and the Twilight Zone episodes that covered the same topics in more concise and less-is-more-poignant storytelling style of Rod Serling.
Okay, the Cannes heels thing is getting out of hand.
As you probably assume, I have opinions about this.
I'll get my opinions out of the way.
1) I agree with an "attire code" at Cannes. They want to keep it elegant. It's France. And more than that, it's the Riviera. Note that I did not say that they want to keep it classy. Telling people what to do is rarely classy. Telling people what to wear is almost never classy.
However. There are occasions and events where an attire guideline is helpful, and yes, necessary. I appreciate invitations that spell out the attire expectations. I want to know what tier of attire the host would like guests to attain. The host is spending time, effort and money planning the occasion/event, the very least attendees can do is follow the attire guideline the host offers. It doesn't matter if the requested attire is casual, black tie, costume or luau, I like to know the attire expectations so that I don't show up dressed completely inappropriately. (We all remember vicars and tarts scene in Bridget Jones' Diary.)
This does not mean that specifics are in order. Black tie does not mean, "A formal dress that costs more than $1,000, heels more than 2.5" in height, and jewelry and accessories procured at this list of retailers." Black tie means, "Dress up. Men wear a dark suit and tie, or a tux, and women wear a formal dress." Where that suit/tux and formal dress are procured and what it costs is up to the attendee. Taste is personal and subjective and not to be dictated.
I suspect the Cannes people want to keep the focus on the movies and want to maintain the idea of glamor in the film industry. Without attire guidelines the red carpets turn into arenas for attention a la Bjork's swan dress at the Oscars. I cannot remember what year that was or what movies won at that Oscar ceremony, but I remember Bjork's dress. I presume this is exactly what the Cannes people are trying to avoid. They want the event and the films to be the center of attention and not overshadowed by Bjork's swan dress or Gaga's meat dress.
2) I agree with the black shoes for men requirement. The men are required to wear a black tie appropriate suit, and that means black shoes. The Cannes people obviously want men to recede and women to exceed. The more sedate and monotone the men are dressed, the more the women will pop and shine in comparison. There's a whole truckload of gender inequality in that sentiment. I find it interesting men aren't more irate about this obvious case of female chauvinism.
3) Heels over 2.5" does not automatically mean formal. I know shoes. I know shoes really, really well. I've perused a lot of women's shoes worn at Cannes and I've seen a lot of stripper shoes and hooker heels and some Eurotrashy numbers. But, they're heels, many of them appear to be in the 4" range, and thus accepted on the red carpet at Cannes. (The heels in the over 4" range tend to be the most questionable in terms of elegance.) Meanwhile, in other outposts on the internet, not on the red carpet at Cannes, I have seen some wonderfully elegant, tasteful and yes, classy, low-heeled or no-heeled shoes.
4) Some of us ladies would dearly love to strap on a pair of 4 inchers and head out to a movie premier at Cannes. But some of us have foot/ankle/knee/hip/back problems that prevent us from safely wearing heels over 2" in height. That does not mean that we are less worthy of admission to the event. It means we're either afflicted by a horrible ailment like rheumatoid arthritis, or that we were out there living life and had an unfortunate accident that left us with physical limitations.
5) Why isn't anyone saying anything about the irony of the three women in low heeled/flat shoes denied access to Carol, a film about lesbians?
Not that there's anything wrong with that. And I certainly do not want
to stereotype anyone, but, um, it's a film about lesbians. A group of
people known the world over for their sensible footwear choices.
6) More to the point, Cannes people, what is the priority? Women wearing heels or women who are talented, creative or business savvy enough to score an invitation to Cannes?
That's the extent to which I am going to opine about shoes at Cannes.
Like many others, I see this as an opportunity to address the issue of gender inequality.
But I don't agree with making heels the bad guy in this.
Prior to my foot/ankle issues I loved heels. I wore heels a lot because I like them. Not because men found me more attractive in heels. Not because I felt that I needed to conform to the (male dominated) fashion industry. Not because I felt that I needed to conform to a sexually stereotyped image. And certainly not because I needed to add height to bring my physical stature closer to men. (At 5'11" I'm taller than a lot of men I encounter in business situations...add 3" - 4" heels and I am almost always taller than men in the office.) Don't blame Barbie. Don't blame my mother. Don't blame Vogue. I just happen to love heels. And then my foot and ankle were mangled, twisted and torn and that was the tragic end of my days and nights in heels. But it wasn't the end of the love affair. I still look at heels and even covet them. And then I go to work and devise strategies, plan, execute, create, manage, organize and make stuff happen brain to brain with men. My footwear is of zero consequence.
Heels are not the bad guy.
The bad guys are rigid, narrow-minded people with a skewed set of priorities, and who lack the ability to understand what class truly means.
I sent another email to everyone with whom I normally exchange
gifts for birthdays and holidays. It was similar to the one I sent prior to the holidays a few years ago, but, because it regarded my birthday, it didn't impact anyone but me and the results were very (very) different from my attempt to bow out of holiday gift giving.
I kept it brief and breezy:
“As much as I appreciate and enjoy your generous and
thoughtful gifts, I'm hoping we can start new traditions. Instead of gifts, I
would much prefer the gifts of time and connection. I would love to go to lunch
or a museum with you, or just a long phone conversation with you is what I need
and want more than gift. Or, spend the money you would have spent on a gift on
planting a tree or a charity. Or buy something for yourself! It makes me happy
to think of you splurging on something you would enjoy.”
Some of my friends responded immediately. They were clearly relieved
to put an end to the gift giving. The first responders, obviously all of a like
mindset, said something along the lines of, “Thank you for having the
courage to do this, I’ve been trying to do the same thing with my family/other
friends for years and I can’t get up the nerve to suggest it. I’m going to
borrow your words to send to my family/friends.”
Some of them elaborated, and shared perhaps a bit too much.
It turned into a confessional for a few of them. “Oh thank God. You are my hero. I’ve been
trying to get out of a gift exchange with my sister-in-law for 15 years and
have not been able to cut the cord. I’ve danced around the topic, but she doesn’t
take the hint. She takes personal pride in gift giving. She thinks she gives
really good, personal gifts, but she doesn’t. I send most of what she gives me
to Goodwill. She gives nice - and usually expensive - gifts, but they’re not my taste whatsoever. So
then I feel obligated to reciprocate with a gift of equal value, and I really
don’t have a good handle on her taste, so it feels like wasted money. I know a
couple restaurants she likes and I’ve given her gift cards for those places,
but then she goes on and on about how she takes so much time and pride in
finding just the right and personal gifts for friends and family and I feel
like heel for resorting to a gift card. The whole thing is a stress-inducing
nightmare saga for me. I’m copying your email and sending it to her. Right after
I have a couple drinks.”
From another friend:
“And that is how it’s done. Remember Kelly, my roommate in
grad school? We’ve drifted apart over the past 10 years. But we always made a
big deal about our birthdays so we keep sending each other birthday gifts, even
though we haven’t actually seen each other in 11 years. We barely even talk to
each other. Christmas gifts and birthday gifts are pretty much the only time we
communicate with each other. It’s silly. And yet I feel guilty if I don’t send
her something. Trill, I don’t know the slightest thing about her anymore. In
her holiday card she mentioned a new job and longer commute, but I don’t even
know where she was working before the ‘new’ job. In fact, I didn’t even know
she was working! She quit after her second baby, I didn’t realize she’d gone
back to work and then she’s telling me she started a new job with a longer
commute. And yet every August I go shopping for a birthday present for her. I
just find something I like and send it to her. I’m sure she probably re-gifts
the presents I send her. This has to stop. I’m doing what you did with this
email.”
And then…there were the others. The people, mostly family,
who protested. “But Trill, we love giving you gifts.”
Really? At the risk of sounding ungrateful, I have to ask
why, if you love giving me gifts, I have received such memorable gifts as: a sweater
shaver that was obviously regifted because the Christmas tag from the
person who originally gave it to my sister-in-law is still on it; Bath and
Body Works pre-packaged holiday gift sets in a weird fragrances from the same
person for the past five years; a handbag that had obviously been used; an
Omaha steak delivery from a cousin who knows darned well I’m a vegetarian
(perhaps this is a “gag” gift, and it did make me gag); novelty socks in a
child’s size…shall I continue?
I know, I know, it’s not the gift, it’s the thought that
counts. But. Erm. Exactly what are the thoughts in the above mentioned gifts?
Certainly not, “I care about you,” or “you’re special to me,” or even, “I saw
this and thought of you.” Those gifts say, “It’s Christmas/your birthday and I
am obligated to send you a gift, I found the fastest and first thing I could
find and gave it to you.”
I’m about to show a side of me I don’t often show. It’s the
evil Trillian, or, Trevil, as I call her.
Perhaps they object to discontinuing the gift-giving because
they want to continue receiving the gifts I send them. Apart from a couple
years when I was unemployed, I typically spend a decent amount of money on
gifts for family and friends. I’m not saying I’m the best gift-giver ever, but
I do spend a fair amount of time finding a gift that’s at least somewhat
relevant to the recipients. And, I don’t take the cheapo way out by giving one
gift for a husband/wife/kids unit. My brother, his wife and his daughter all
receive individual gifts for holidays and birthdays. Yep. That’s three gifts I’m
giving, while they’re giving only one to me. Not that I’m keeping score. But.
Monetarily-wise most of my friends and family are coming out way, way ahead in
the gift exchange with me. (I told you, Trevil is not nice, she can be petty and acrimonious.)
After many emails along the lines of, "No, no, really, there's nothing I need or want, spend the money on yourself or make a donation to a charity that's important to you," the subject subsided.
And then my birthday rolled around. Please note, I spent the Sunday prior to my birthday with my mother and we had a Mother's Day/birthday dinner and gift exchange. My mother outdid herself this year.
On my actual birthday I received: a phone call from my mother, two happy birthdays in emails from friends.
I got exactly what I asked for: Nothing.
Which is fine. I did not want gifts.
And my birthday really is not a big deal to me. I really don't care about greetings. Truly. In spite of how this is probably sounding, I'd rather have silence than a perfunctory, "Happy birthday" from a friend or relative for whom the greeting is nothing more than something to cross off their daily to-do list.
However, this turned into an interesting social experiment. I requested no gifts, suggesting instead social outings or a phone call or that my friends and family spend the money on something for themselves or a charitable donation.
Most of my friends and family took this as a "Get Out of Trill's Birthday" pass. People who normally sent me gifts did absolutely nothing, no call, no card, not even texts.
One friend and my sister did send texts after my birthday, apologizing for the tardy greeting.
It now poses somewhat of a conundrum for me. There are people, friends, family members, for whom I enjoy sending a birthday greeting. I like making birthday phone calls. But now I've painted myself into a socially awkward corner. If I don't send birthday cards/calls/texts to friends and family on their birthdays, will it look spiteful? The message being: "You didn't even send me a text on my birthday, so, even though I always call and send a card for your birthday, I'm giving you what you gave me: Nothing."
Or, if I do send card/make calls will it look like I'm trying to play some guilt or superiority game?
Area woman Tricia McMillian’s weekend travel plans were
disrupted by the United States Secret Service. Ms. McMillian’s train departure
coincided with Vice President Joe Biden’s dinner plans. Exercising what many
felt was excessive security precautions, the Secret Service froze in place all
rail traffic because the Vice President’s motorcade crossed rail tracks on the
way to his dinner engagements.The rail
traffic halt caused a five hour delay for Ms. McMillian’s train.
The actual train delay was four hours, but due to crew
schedule conflicts because of the four hour delay, the train had to wait
another hour at one of the stations for a relief crew.
“I’m not mad at Amtrak, I want to make that very clear,” the area woman
traveling in another area noted. “The Amtrak people were just as inconvenienced and frustrated as us passengers.This is all Biden’s fault, or his secret service
people. I mean, is Biden really that ‘at risk’ that someone would
commandeer a train and bash it into his motorcade? If so, there’s something
going on that the American public isn’t being told. I’m really kinda
annoyed at the Vice President. This is a huge stinking inconvenience for me and
everyone else on this packed train. We’re all exhausted. Most of
us have Monday morning work obligations, and as the delay ticked by, we all
became increasingly ticked off at the Vice President.”
Several of the passengers on the area woman’s train made
comments regarding the Vice President’s employer. “He works for us, you know.
'We the People,' that's who he works for. He should be waiting for us, not the other way around,” one particularly vocal
passenger remarked. Another passenger felt that the delay was a result of
allowing the president to get away with the Affordable Healthcare Act. An
elderly passenger seated near Ms. McMillian claimed she didn’t give a rat’s
patooty about Biden’s motorcade.
Citing concerns regarding her own safety, Ms. McMillian
utilized the train’s wifi service to send emails to the Vice President and
Secret Service. She requested a Secret Service escort from Chicago’s Union
Station to her home at the revised arrival time of 3:00 AM. “That’s a weird
part of town on a Sunday evening, but at 3:00 on a Monday morning? Forget it.
The few cabs that might be there will be snatched up minutes after the crowded
train arrives in Chicago. And Uber? Um, no. I am not riding with anyone
willing to pick a woman up at Union Station at 3 AM on a Monday morning, at
least not without my own secret service protection.”
As of press time Ms. McMillian had not received a response
from either the Vice President’s office or the Secret Service.