Pimp That Post!

Which is what I'm doing right now: pimping my most recent post for More.com....in which I whine about why I'm bad at pimping (my mama done brought me up right)--and why it's crucial to this here internets thing.

The drill is this: go read the post (okay, you don't have to read it; just look at it). Click on the "I Like This" icon (you may have to sign up first but only the first time and honestly, you'll be entered in a contest to win Michael Jackson's sixth grandchild.) Then comment....and send the link to your friends... Because the more People Who Like my post, the--the--the ------- Whatever.

And then--no, we're not done yet!--Digg it and Stumble it. Those two are easy 'cause there's links to them right on the post.

I thank you.....

In Sickness and In Health

I'm missing writing on ByJane. I'm missing doodling with keyboard and I'm missing venting and I'm missing sharing my every this, that or the other. MidLifeBloggers seems too--I dunno--grownup to just mess about on. Or maybe it's just me. Maybe I feel too grownup to mess about in public. Whatever. Stuff is going on in my life and ByJane is where I've always put my stuff. Will I post it on MidLifeBloggers as well? I dunno.

Today D comes back to my house for a while. Take note of the pronoun, people, because it is My house. It may be the address listed on his license, but he doesn't live here anymore. He hasn't for over a year now. But in that year, something interesting has happened. The family I worked so hard for--my two step-sons, my daughters-in-law, my granddaughter--that family has coalesced and solidified and...any other words you could think of for "becoming tight." It happened willnilly of D; it began, in fact, without him. But now he's in there too and we're all, all of us, happy to see each other and be together as a family.

And happy to count on each other, as one does with family. Therein lies the why of D coming back to my house for a while. A couple of weeks ago, he got the dreaded news, the one that begins with C and ends with surgery. I'm not even counting chemo and radiation in there because we're hoping it ends with surgery. D lives alone, over an hour away from all of us. He'll need to be taken care of, at the very least. At the most, which is the way I do things, he needs a loving friend to go through this with him. He did it for me when I had the cerebral aneurysm. Now I'll do it for him.

I'm shy about telling people this because it's hard to explain in this world of I hate you and never darken my door again marital splits. But the fact is that I can't not do it. I guess I really did take those vows seriously: in sickness and in health....

Jon & Kate Plus 8: Hang 'em from the highest tree

I just finished the season opener of Jon & Kate Plus 8. It was painful to watch, especially for anyone who has gone through the breakup of a marriage. Clearly they are each putting on the Brave Face that I remember so well from my own life, and that, perhaps, makes it harder for me at least to see. I get the sense that they are both doing the best they can in a crummy situation.

Meanwhile, the citizens are milling about yelling, Jump! Jump! Or maybe, to make the metaphor I'm reaching for clearer, Off With Their Heads!

I am astonished at the hysteria that this family has generated in the tabloid press, and thus on line, and therefore in Twitters and Facebooks etc. etc. etc. For a while public sentiment was against Jon, the doubledealing, cheating, oh-my-god-he-got-hair-plugs, what-does-he-do-for-a-living-anyway husband. But now, now Kate is on the rack because...because--

...because she's a woman and she isn't meek. I have a couple of book shelves full of most worthy historical assessments of the role of women, with titles like Disorderly Conduct, The Female Grotesque, and (one of my person favorites) The Madwoman in the Attic. They are all a testimony to the fact that in our culture, we have not wanted our women bold and beautiful and we have certainly not wanted them smart and articulate. Kate Gosselin fails on all four points, and thus she must be chastened, scourged, and maybe even burned at the stake.

As always, it amazes, saddens and disgusts me that it is mostly women who are casting the stones. Lord, how we love to hate each other. And we're so good at it, aren't we? While little boys bash each other over the head to establish dominance in the sandbox, we girls do it with sly innuendo and backbiting. We're the master (if I can use that word) of the verbal assault because really, that's the only ammunition our culture has allowed us.

I don't know what will happen to the Gosselins. I wish them well. I wish their period of time being scapegoats for the American shadow psyche is brief. I wish we weren't all so fucking eager to raise the flag and then, just when it's flying high, pull it down to trample it in the muck. I don't know--I guess I wish we weren't so human.

Dancing With The Stars - American Idol: the last word, sort of

Indulge me while I write about my true interest in life: television of the reality genre. T'is true that I'm a People mag sort of girl. Actually, I prefer US because they never try to be high-minded about their gossip and besides, my friend, Stefanie Wilder-Taylor does fashion reviews for them.

Stephanie and others do round-up/wrap-ups of shows like American Idol and Dancing With the Stars. I prefer to just pop in occasionally for the brief--140 character--insightful comment, which is why you may want to follow me on Twitter one of these days.

This week, unfortunately, my fleet fingers were otherwise occupied, so the final finales (as opposed to the penultimate finales) of both shows went by without my wit and wisdom. Or at least my wit. Or maybe just wisdom. I dunno, 'cause I tend to think I'm funnier than I am.

DWTS: Of course, Shawn Johnson won. She is, after all, America's Sweetheart. And we need to appreciate her more these days because when she finally grows up--and out--her body will settle into something resembling a fireplug, and we won't like her so much because she will no longer be Cute. Think Mary Lou Retton. Not only that, but Hair & Makeup really did right by her. Compare the look she sported in the Olympics, when I assume she was responsible for her own glitter and eyeshadow, to Tuesday night's, and there alone you're talking the difference between a girl and a woman. Now I'm wondering if she'll maintain that look--false eyelashes and all--for the 2012 Games.

American Idol: Of course, Krissss won. And I don't think it had anything to do with the homophobia thing. I think that is just an easy excuse, like the stutterer who couldn't get a job on radio because he was Jewish. Nor do I think Kris got the Christian vote. Actually, I didn't know there was a Christian Vote until he brought it up. I voted for Kris and I'm not Christian. I voted for Kris because I don't think Adam will wear as well in the public eye. The thing that made Adam so brilliant was that he Performed his songs. What he lacked was any real connection with the music and the audience. If singing is a form of communication, then Adam was Narcissus, creating the perfect picture--for himself.

Tonight begins So You Think You Can Dance, and I'll be there. As I will for the season opening of Jon and Kate Plus Eight. Aren't you excited????

What Happens To One of Us Happens To All of Us

Gwendomomma is a blogger I met at Woolf Camp last month. Now she's a blogger in need. In the infinite wisdom of our courts, her ex was allowed to plead down a domestic violence charge to disturbing the peace. This came after he cleared out their money to pay for his bail! Gwendomomma has two kids, rent to be paid, food to be bought, etc. etc. etc. We bloggers are mighty in our ability to Get Things Done, and we are perfection in the way we Support Each Other. There's a widget in my sidebar that allows you to safely donate whatever you can to help Gwendomomma keep things going for her kids and move on in her life.