1984

Between the years of 1983 and 1984 I was 9 and in the 4th grade. Those years were an amazing time for entertainment. The weekly top-40 radio show was full of music that is now referred to as "classic rock" or "pop." Madonna's "Like a Virgin" was climbing the charts...my friend Kelly and I dressed up like Madonna for Halloween that year; lots of lace, black and neon...can't believe our parents went for that. It was the year Cyndi Lauper wow'd us with her She's So Unusual album - girls STILL just wanna have fun, time after time, it seems. Duran Duran had "Hungry Like a Wolf" and Prince's 1999 album was all over the place. Movies at the time included now classic titles such as The Big Chill, Risky Business, Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, A Christmas Story, National Lampoons Vacation, Flashdance and Footloose, two of my personal favorites at the time. And of course, there was the enigma known as Thriller.

I remember being totally freaked out the first time I saw Thriller on Friday Night Videos. My parents would let me stay up late to watch the likes of Madonna gyrating in a wedding gown, Cyndi and that weird wrestler dude with the cheek piercing, The Romantics' "Talking in Your Sleep" video and the final video of the night was ALWAYS, ALWAYS MJ's Thriller. Thriller transformed a music video into a short film. It was amazing and set the stage for so many artists who have come since that time. I still can't get the sound of Vincent Price's eeeevvvvil laugh out of my head.

Now I first knew of Michael Jackson from my parents' vinyl of Off the Wall, one of my favorite albums even still today. This is where he gave us "Rock with You" and "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough," which I shamelessly admit has been my ringtone for the last year. Michael's collaboration with Quincy Jones led him straight into Thriller, with that crazy fold-out album cover with his gnarly sticking-out wrist bones, Thriller was among the albums that defined my generation.

I distintly remember my classmate, Danny Baseheart in his red & black MJ Thriller jacket (he was the only person I knew whose parents actually bought him one and we were all totally jealous), I can still see him in my mind...doing the moonwalk at recess with his highwater school uniform pants, white socks and broken-in loafers, MJ jacket and Kevin Bacon Footloose hairdo. (I bet a lot of my friends from childhood who read this can remember the exact same moment).

Michael Jackson was golden. He won everything, he danced like a fool, he could sing the ABC's and it would sound good (wait a minute...he DID!), and he was a member of one of the weirdest, most jacked-up Hollywood families in history. But he was arguably the Elvis of my generation. I bet they blacked the lights in Tokyo last night.

I won't even touch the last decade of poor MJ's life. Suffice it to say, that man has been through enough to drive anyone nuts and/or give anyone a heart attack. Today the reports have speculated that his cardiac arrest (not the same thing as a heart attack, I have learned - thank you Sanjay Gupta) might have been caused by a toxic combination of prescription drugs, a la Anna Nicole Smith. Either way, it is a tragic loss for music lovers everywhere. But MJ's music will live on and on, much like the memory of Weird Al Yanchovic's rendition of "Fat," a rediculous parody of MJ's "Bad," which in all reality was a parody in and of itself.

RIP MJ. Thanks for the music and the memories man.

I Rate Jon & Kate

Back a couple of months ago, bored and with nothing else to do...ok, too lazy to do anything else, I caught an episode of Jon & Kate +8 on Lifetime or whatever channel it's on. I had never seen it before and evidently I was catching episodes that were old, as the babies were around two-years-old at the time. I was completely enthralled with their family dynamic and intrigued at how they were able to pull off raising eight kids. I have two kids of my own and want to go rock in a corner sometimes, so I can't even imagine what eight would be like.

Right around the time I saw my first episode was when the press came out about the possibility that Jon, husband and father of 8 children had been unfaithful to his wife. Of course, a new season of the show immediately followed all of this press. Jon feels trapped, Kate says he resents her success with her childrens' books hitting shelves and book tours taking her away from her family, etc.

Now I am a working Mom. I work mostly because I have to and partially because I want to. I have a great job and work with great people and I suffer every single day with "Mommy's Guilt" that I wear like an unseen scarlet letter, a badge so many women (and Daddy's too) wear to work as a regulation component of their Mommy uniforms. Being a Mother is a wonderful, but often thankless job, but for the vast majority of Moms out there, it is a job that we chose for ourselves. The Gosselins chose to have eight kids...now it seems they are falling apart before our eyes.

I remember thinking about Kate, as I watched her visit the grocery store with 6 kids and then return home to prepare lunch for them. She always makes it a point to resentfully add in her little couch confessional that she is doing things "by herself" "with no help," like she deserves a medal or something. I recall a couple of episodes where she makes an effort to take her twins special places for their birthday and to single them out...an effort I make every day...how to make my 4-year-old feel special and understand that I have more than enough room in my heart for both she and her sister. Then I think about those 8 kids.

I have no doubt that they are loved and cared for by many more people than just their parents. There have to be all kinds of caregivers going on there. How else would Jon and Kate have so much time to sit and report in on their daily activities (bedtime hours not withstanding). As I watched the most recent season premiere I felt so sad for those little kids. Here it was their 5th birthday party and Kate was whining about paparazzi following them everywhere. You would think that the moment guys with cameras started following them around as parents they would say, "You know what, this is clearly NOT what is best for our kids," and call it a show. But no, they forged ahead, displaying materialism at its finest, or lowest possible point, depending on how you look at it.

I had decided this show was not for me when I determined that it was beneath my threshold to watch a marraige fall apart before my very eyes. That is not my business and the prospect of any marraige ending is devistating to all involved. Yet my DVR continued recording episode after episode, automatically changing the channel over when the show began each week. I walked through the living room a couple of weeks ago to see Kate at a spa, then Kate eating cake at Charm City Cakes (Home of Food TV's "Ace of Cakes") and asking herself (and ultimately answering) random questions. "Is this cake the best ever? Yes." "Do I want to ask myself lots of questions? Absolutely." Then last week I happen through the living room to see Jon getting a new custom motorcycle and Kate gets a Vespa that she donates somewhere....aw, how nice. Um, where are the kids again???

It has been speculated (and blogged about by Gosselin family members) that Jon and Kate have made a list of material things they want and gave them to the network and these things have become the topics of their shows. Jon wants hairplugs, Kate wants to have her teeth whitened. Now Jon gets a motorcycle and whines about how he had 8 kids at age 27 and Kate berates Jon repeatedly for not remembering to put her purse in the car. Now, the network is capitalizing on their marital problems by "this week, a very special announcement" kinds of messages. How about Jon and Kate go to marraige counseling or even Kate takes the kids to the dentist or to their first day of kindergarten - both would be way more appropriate not to mention more entertaining. Heck, even the episode about the kids' birthday party shows dad showing up in his expensive sportscar (the same one he showed off to the 23-year-old schoolteacher he allegedly screwed around with) and then hanging back alone like he could care less.

So now they are getting divorced, and yet they plan to go on with the show. http://www.cnn.com/2009/SHOWBIZ/TV/06/23/jon.and.kate.divorce/index.html
I read last night that Jon is considering moving to Manhattan and moving into Trump Tower. Really? Your show made you wealthy enough to start over on THAT level? You prick. This guy should be ashamed of himself.

As a Mom myself, I know that you have to be a tyrant sometimes to run your household. It makes you the bad guy sometimes, but that's what you have to do in order to make decisions that are best for your kids. I won't begrudge Kate that fact at all. I can't imagine how hard it must be, but they have money and people to help them when so many of us don't. I will say that she treats Jon like dirt, but never (in the episodes I've seen) has he stood up for himself. He's just left looking like a fool on national television, and she looks like a total bitch, so I suppose they're even.

Reality TV is really sick stuff. But more than anything, it has to say something about the character of parents who would display their own vanity at the expense of their own family each week. These are selfish people motivated by money and not by what is best for their kids. Pretty sad stuff.

Busting out some poetry

I have tons of old lyrics and poetry that I hosted on my MySpace blog once upon a time. I was going through some and found one from November 2006 that made me laugh at the memory that inspired it. Thought I'd share it with the lot of ya.

November 4, 2006 - Saturday

Ode to the Mommy Predator


Minding my own business

Playing with my kid

Too cold to play outside today

so I thought we'd take it in

Lots of rugrats running 'round

Of all shapes and colors

My oh my I really hope they don't run my baby over

His child was lying on the slide

pushing other kids aside

While he sat there with his wife

Oblivious to the childrens' cries

I didn't think it was my place to ask his kid to share

Took a child getting hurt to get dad over there

"Now son, you need to share," he said

Shooting me a sympathetic glance

"Why not go play over there," he said

"Give the other kids a chance."

I noticed the big production of telling Mom goodbye

Immediately followed by Dad's stares the moment I caught his eye

Playing peek-a-boo and taking pictures with my phone

I got a sinking feeling that we were not alone

"I bring him here every weekend," he said

I replied "We've been here once or twice."

"Well, that is the weekends I have him," he said

Searching my left hand with his eyes

While his desperate attempt at a pick-up line was pitiful at best

I felt sorry for his kid, as his Mommy had just left

With all the talk of pedophiles, molestors and kidnappers

I never considered I'd be the one fending off attackers

As I suited up my little girl and headed for the door

I wondered why no one warns against the Mommy Predator

The evolution of real time friendships

I learned today that a former work associate is pregnant. VERY Pregnant. With a boy, no less. The other day I learned that one of my dearest friends had become engaged while on vacation with her boyfriend. I also learned that one of my other close friends was about to move to Japan with her family. Weddings, engagements, babies, job losses, deaths, you name it. Where have I learned about all of these things? Well on FACEBOOK, of course!

I had a conversation with my husband several months ago during which I marveled about reconnecting on said uberpopular social networking site with some old college friends: "How on earth did we keep up with each other before Facebook?" Intended as a rhetorical question, he responded with a pretty sadly simple-but-true answer:

"We didn't."

I was never much for phone conversations personally. A lucky few, including a couple of close friends, my sister and mother would get a weekly or semi-monthly phone call from me to check in and see what's happening. Since having kids, my phone conversations are pretty well limited to my commute to and from work every day and pretty much never on the weekends. My friends and I have to schedule phone conversations, most of which never happen because life takes the place of this archaec form of personal communication.

I've since replaced the personal contact of lunches and phone calls with quick Facebook transmittals. I might not have time for a full-out phone conversation, by I can squeeze in a quick email, photo comment or status update every day. So can everyone else it seems.

I know now that my friends in Seattle just went to Mexico (jealous). I know when my friends have happy hours and don't invite me (you guys suck). I know that my friend in TX just went to a Mother-Son Dance with her super-cute kid. I was able to check in with my cousin on the status of my aunt's recent heart attack and view pictures of the bridal shower I couldn't attend last weekend (sorry Steph). I even know what my co-workers are doing via tweet posts. Heck, I even get PAID to maintain social networking profiles and other e-com sites for my alma mater, Western Kentucky University.

I seem to be better friends with people online than I was ever able to be in person, so have all my friendships evolved from real friendships into real-TIME friendships? Yes, it certainly seems so.

As much as I crave the one-on-one connection that my friends and family members give me during our all too infrequent get togethers, I am grateful that social networking has enabled me to at least know they're ok on a day-to-day basis. Photos of new babies, new hair-dos, new husbands. Status reports of what you ate for breakfast and how bad your head aches today (hey, I'm guilty of that one). Would we tell each other (and 200 others) all this stuff if we were face-to-face? Maybe in some cases. Still we love it and it is a vouyeristic pastime for many.

Keep those posts coming folks. I want to know that you're a fan of bacon! I want to know that your top five albums include Olivia Newton John's Greatest Hits Vol. 1 (oh wait, that's me.). I needed to know that Belle is your Disney character. If I didn't know all this stuff, I'd just miss you, so keep it coming.

Loves,

CBelle

Support the Arts in our Schools

My Mother-in-law is a high school teacher. Depending upon where you live those three words can be loaded with all kinds of meaning. High. School. Teacher. It might mean that she is overworked and underpaid (ding!), that on some days she fears for her life (ding, ding!), or perhaps that she has seen some things from both students and parents that most of us would find disgusting in all senses of the word (emphatic dinging!).

I will never forget the conversation we had one day about how the state had cut the budget for the art program in public schools. What did they do with it? Did they buy new textbooks? No. Did they sponsor student outreach programs? Wrong again. No, turns out they beefed-up the budget for high school athletic programs, of course. This coming from a school district that gives mandatory days off from school for the annual state basketball championship games. Not just for the coaches and teams that are actually involved in the tournaments, for EVERYONE.

Turns out this budget cut was a direct result of the ever-so-popular and highly effective "No Child Left Behind Act," which originally intended to increase performance levels in American K-12 schools in mathematics, reading and science, leaving little room for arts, social studies and foreign language programs. Inner city schools and schools with high minority enrollment were the hardest hit, the Act simply exacerbating an existing problem of low budgetary resources and inadequate teacher education.

School years are "the formative years," right? So isn't this the time that students discover their love for art, music, drama, language arts, photography, etc? If these programs are cut, then what's left? It is a proven fact that kids who study music at a young age have higher scores in math and science. Not to mention enhanced concentration skills. What about art? The discovery of this creative outlet can keep a lot of endangered kids out of trouble, and perhaps even encourage them to go to college.

Not all kids are lucky enough to have supportive parents or resources to buy supplies needed to pursue their talents. Cameras, computers, art supplies and musical instruments are all in short supply. With budget cuts occurring as frequently as they do (I can speak of this firsthand as an employee of a state university), where is the hope for helping kids not only realize their dreams but in helping them figure out they dreamed them in the first place? I think maybe the hope lies with our teachers and in those willing to volunteer their time and resources to help kids of all ages tap into the right hemisphere of their brains.

I suppose the high school for which my Mother-in-law teaches is lucky to have her. While she is educated and experienced as an English teacher, she has also taken on the role of running the Arts and Humanities program, which includes some practical teachings as well as things like basic art history and theatre appreciation. Still, there is more we can do. Check out the links I have included at the end of this blog to learn more and in the meantime, do what you can to support art and music programs in schools, whether it be your own kid's school or otherwise.

http://vh1savethemusic.com/sites/default/files/PDFs/25%20things%20web_small.pdf

http://www.americansforthearts.org/networks/arts_education/arts_education_004.asp

http://plays.about.com/od/playwrights/a/supportplays.htm

http://www.supportmusic.com/

http://www.schoolmusicmatters.com/

Funny kid story

As the parent of a 4.5 year old and a 1.5 year old, I have plenty of funny kid stories to share. I suppose most of them are "you had to be there" moments, but they are funny to me. Since I am paranoid that I constantly go on and on about my kids, as I'm sure I do, I don't share every story, but Sofia pulled a good one last night that I'd love to share if you'll just indulge me:

John was reading Sofia her bedtime stories last night and she had chosen a Barney (as in of the annoying purple dinosaur persuasion) book about the alphabet. I am not sure exactly where this book came from, as we have inherited so many along the way and that is one of very few kids' shows that I don't allow in our house, but I digress.....

John and Sofia were reading this Barney ABC Animals book - one zoo animal for each letter of the alphabet. Rather than reading the actual words in the book, John was sort of using the book as flash cards and letting Sofia say "A for alligator", etc. On occasion, they would come to a letter and Sofia would get the animal wrong, like, the letter "J" was affiliated with the picture of a jaguar, but Fia would say "J for leopard," because she doesn't understand the difference. Well, they came to the letter "W" and there was a picture of a walrus. Sofia says "W for seal!" and John says, "No, that's a walrus." Sofia repeats "Oh, a walrus," then she thinks about it for a minute and says, "Oh, I know, like purizon walrus, I've seen that commercial!"

We laughed for the rest of the night.

Enjoy your weekend everybody!

Basketball, Schmasketball...just kiddin'!

I think the first year I ever cared about college basketball was somewhere around the spring of 1996. I was a senior at Western Kentucky University at the time and my boyfriend and his family "bled blue," meaning the Kentucky Wildcats' Blue, of course. It helped that "we" had the winning team that year, which only added to the excitement of the SEC and NCAA tournaments. As a college basketball virgin, I could not have given it up to a better team at a more opportune time.

More than anything, the camaraderie that came along with experiencing those basketball games sucked me in. That was the first year that I really got to know my future Mother-in-Law and Brother-in-Law and his buddies, hoodlums that they were at the time. Looking back to the evenings and weekends camped-out in the cramped upstairs landing of the house on the corner of High and Broadway in Bowling Green, I smile at the recollection of the slew of nail-biting wins and losses that were few and far between.

We were lucky enough to have Rick Pitino back then, the shaman of basketball. He led us to victory in '96 before taking off to try to revitalize the Celtics and then heading back to Kentucky doggie-style in 2001 to lead Louisville through eight pretty successful seasons. Hero or villain, you be the judge. I never much cared, but I can say UK Basketball just hasn't been the same since, even with a 1998 championship win under Tubby Smith.

I knew more about NCAA basketball in those few years than ever before and have paid more attention since, albeit not nearly as much attention as I once did; I blame life and crappy seasons for that. I guess I really stopped caring (in the full sense of the word) when those with whom I loved sharing victories and defeats with dissipated. Reality is, people move on and priorities shift. We always had March to hold us together. On that we could rely.

So this year, as we cheer on the Cats through the (ahem) NIT tournament and even more so the Sun Belt champs, WKU (GO TOPS!) in their visit to the NCAA, remember how March holds us together and see if you too can make an effort to make that feeling of camaraderie last all year long.