A.A. asks, "Dear Miss Kitty,
I hope you are meeting the heat and humidity with a healthy dose of conditioned air.
Do you know we lub you and if so, do you know we lub you *this* much?
Thanks as always,
AA"
My air is as nicely conditioned as my hair, and I owe my hair to Lamas. Not Lorenzo. Though he had nice hair back in the day, too, but I doubt he used this stuff 'cuz I don't think it was around then. But side note: I recently got about seven inches chopped off of my hair and my stylist was floored by how healthy it was, all the way to the tips, with no dye or product or extensions or anything in it. Which I took to mean, I grow good hair. And condition it well.
Anyway. I digress.
I have to admit, I was a bit puzzled by your question, as I'm not necessarily up with all of the hip lingo the youngsters are using these days. I was working on a film not too long ago with a group of kids who all thought it was kitschy that I use the word "groovy." It's coming back, man, just you wait. So I had to look up what "lub" means. In large part to make sure you didn't just forget the "e" on the end, in which case, this is a much more personal question than we should probably be posting on the interweb. And according to the Urban Dictionary, "lub" is one of those totally non-committal words that wusses use when they don't have the balls to tell someone how they really feel. Or when they're too afraid to admit how they feel. It's described as being something between like and love, which in my day, we referred to as like-liking someone. As in, "I like him, but I don't like-him-like-him, so I said no when he asked me to Homecoming."
Now, I know you're married to a lovely woman, which may explain the usage of "lub" as opposed to "like" or "love," but you also say, "we," which leads me to believe I have a lot of sort-of-timid-non-committal friends which is mildly disturbing. I'd like to think the sentiment behind the message was a sweet one, but I'm just sort of left feeling like I'm stuck in limbo, not knowing where I really stand with anyone. And apparently, these are very strong non-committal feelings. I don't even know how that works. Did I do something to offend you all? How is it that I'm sitting on the fence between like and love and y'all can't make up your minds? If I was taller, would that help? Or if I gave everybody kittens for Christmas? Hell, I'd even call you all really mean names so I'd move over into hate territory because even that is clearer than this whole "lub" thing.
I need to lie down now.
Thank you, A.A. for your question. Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Showing posts with label emotions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label emotions. Show all posts
Monday, July 11, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
Soundtrack of My Life
A.A. asks, "Dear Miss Kitty,
I hope you are well and wearing an easy smile.
What songs would make up your Soundtrack of My Life (so far)?
Thank you as always."
Hi, A.A..
I want to apologize for the delay in answering your question. I knew this would be a sort of epic answer and wanted to give it the proper, full attention it deserves, so it took a little while. But here goes.
I think a lot of people know by now that music has played a very important role in my life, with different styles carrying more importance at different times than others. But let's start with the early stuff and move to the later, shall we?
One of my earliest music associations (beyond my mom bringing her guitar into my preschool classroom and playing for us) still has to do with my mom. I remember dancing to Sultans of Swing in the living room with my mom one New Year's Eve, I think it was. One of the first ones when I was allowed to stay up late enough to enjoy New Year's Eve. This was also my first exposure to East Coast Swing dancing, which translated into my love of lindy hop much later on. Which, of course, leads us to Love Me or Leave Me, which may be my favorite song to dance to ever. And the greatest piano solo ever. Though I once saw a claymation short done to My Baby Just Cares for Me that made me totally fall in love with dance and music and Aardman Animations and made me wish I had a baby who just cared for me.
There are a million other swing songs that should probably get a mention in here - Mr. Pinstripe Suit because I loved Big Bad Voodoo Daddy and saw them on my 21st birthday and they all took pictures with me and signed a dollar bill for me which was later stolen and Dirk was so lovely remembering that I made a total asshole out of myself the first time I saw them live, and because it was in anticipation of that concert that I taught the boy I was in love with at the time how to dance so I could make him go with me; Buzz Buzz Buzz by the Mighty Blue Kings because of all the arguments that boy and I had about who was the better neo swing band; Sing Sing Sing because my next dance partner would always try to time our entrance into the jam so that our sailor kicks hit the music at exactly the right point (which is why I don't do sailor kicks anymore); Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen because of the neo swing movement's obsession with Swing Kids until we all figured out the dancing in that movie is not what we should be emulating on the dance floor (though it's still a fun tune to dance to and gosh darn it, Robert Sean Leonard is hot); Fly Me to the Moon, especially as sung by Blossom Dearie because that's what I got engaged to, though just about anything by Blossom Dearie is dreamy - I Won't Dance, I'm Hip, Blossom's Blues, Rhode Island is Famous For You is the one my dance partner and I were going to choreograph a routine to, you get the idea; and of course It Ain't What You Do for the shim sham and all of the amazing times and locations wherein I did the sham sham - the benefit for a dancer with cancer (which then led to a pie in the face), Frankie's memorial, various exchanges, etc. (and I know that clip is not of It Ain't What You Do, but I though the Frankie memorial was more important to link to, for everything that man brought to the world of dance); and Get Your Girl #1 by Vargas Swing because I had such a crush on Dawn Webber and they gave me free socks at one of their shows. I think it's safe to say that swing/lindy/jazz type music has played a big part in my life and will always hold good memories for me, but perhaps it's time to move on to the next genre? Otherwise, we'll be here all day.
There have been some random, scattered tunes that were playing at just the right moment in my life to leave such an impression that I sometimes I can't listen to them anymore. I remember sobbing in my car on my way from my dad's house to my mom's house in high school listening to the chorus of Regret by New Order because life was just too much and I can barely listen to the song now. Stay, Insanity, Mary, and Dead Man's Party by Oingo Boingo have all held special significance for me at one point or another - wanting the boy to stay, keeping me company on a lonely family vacation, the story of my life, and needing to dance so badly at my first rock and roll concert ever that I'm sure I injured my friend upon whose shoulders I was sitting. And by extension, Sally's Song from The Nightmare Before Christmas because I made that costume one year and rocked it, and asked my friend to teach me the song so I would be prepared just in case anyone asked me to sing it. Which no one did. Shit, let's throw in Useless, Water, and Change, too. I found Boingo (or Boingo found me) when I really needed them and I will always love Danny Elfman for that very reason.
Speaking of finding artists at exactly the right time, Bob Dylan. I have to put It Ain't Me Babe on this list because it's my theme song and I love to cover it. But yeah, found him exactly when I need him and I love the gravelly voice. It soothes my heart.
Crap, this is getting long and wordy. I'm going to be brief and random for a bit. Sorry about that.
I found Moby one summer and he kind of changed my life. I still fantasize about putting together a huge dance routine to Run On that combines lindy, charleston, hip hop and other crap. I've been to three or four Moby shows and they are incredible. I can't not dance to Go when it comes on and when he plays it at his shows, I have to jump. The entire time.
(I would like also like to do a similar dance style mash up performance thing to Come On Now by the John Butler Trio. One Way Road is also rather brilliant.)
And while we're on kind of techno type stuff, I have to mention Sander Kleinenberg, who played the best techno show I have ever seen at RedNo Five in Chicago. I have no idea what the records were he was spinning - some of them were white labels - but sweet jebus, that man can blow the roof off of a club. And he's really nice to look at, too. Really nice. Watching him spin that night was when I learned that if you bop your head backward on the downbeat instead of forward, it sits in the music better. Like starting a cha-cha on the two.
Right about now is when I feel like I should mention (for those of you who don't know) that I also write music. I usually attribute this to a couple of people - the guy who is the current face of the USPS "If it fits, it ships" campaign, another college friend, and Liz Phair. The first Liz Phair song I heard that I identified with her was Polyester Bride, and this was also the first song of hers I learned to cover. But then I went back and heard Flower and remembered hearing it at college parties, so I guess technically, that was my first exposure to Liz Phair. There was a time when I hung out on the Liz Phair message boards quite a bit, and I ended up writing a "clean" version of the song that included the phrase "You can be my personal Yoda." I was kind of proud of that. I think my favorite Liz song, though, is The Divorce Song. I was proud when I learned how to play that one, too, and practicing one of the little chord blips is what eventually led to my own song Astoria Park. That, and hanging out in Astoria Park one day. Which is a favorite of my friend in Texas who I met on the Liz Phair message boards.
But once I started writing my own music, it took a little while before I was comfortable playing it for other people. My song Allowed was sort of a gateway song for me in that respect - it gave me the confidence to play out in front of people because this fellow swing dancer guy friend of mine liked it. And it is actually about my infatuation with another swing dance instructor. I guess it all comes back to swing dancing, doesn't it?
But the fact that I was now playing my own music led me to an open mic in New York City one night where I met another bald musician I would become infatuated with. He played his song Gaslight (Oh Tomorrow) and the crush started, so of course I had to find the rest of his music. Shepherd makes me weep every time. And his song Indiana is what my song Nothing More is in response to, which is only really worth noting because Nothing More is the only love song I've ever written.
Love songs. I was in New York almost a year ago, feeling rather rotten about my station in life, and I had a bit of time to kill on my own before heading to the airport, so I took a vegan blueberry muffin into Central Park and sat on a bench to eat it while listening to my iPod. In These Arms came on and I had one of those moments wherein the world is so full of beauty that you are humbled and grateful for the brief time you have to participate in it and all you can really do is cry. I keep meaning to thank Glen Hansard/Marketa Irglova/The Frames for that, and for some of their other songs like People All Get Ready, Say it to Me Now, and When Your Mind's Made Up. Actually, I just keep meaning to thank Glen Hansard for his existence. (For her own part, Marketa Irglova is adorable, too. Met her after a show in Chicago and she was delightful and so normal but has this amazing energy I don't find in a lot of other women.)
I have had the opportunity to thank Mike Doughty for his music - he personally keeps his Facebook page and responds to fans. Your Misfortune soothes my soul when it's really hurting. It's kind of funny to me that I love Mike Doughty now because I went through this brief trip-hop period wherein I was introduced to Soul Coughing and then didn't really think about them again until Looking at the World From the Bottom of a Well came on the radio. I've now seen him play live two or three times and own five or six records? I also met a guy who said he was friends with the girl about whom Unsingable Name was written.
But I did come back around to Mike Doughty, in large part due to WXRT, the best radio station in Chicago. This station also introduced me to Mumford and Sons, by way of Little Lion Man. Their whole first album is amazing. The Cave and Awake My Soul are a couple more that are always in my playlists. Though I still think he looks wrong for that voice. I wanted him to be this sort of shriveled, withered man who tanned and smoked too much as a kid.
WXRT was also the first radio station to play one of my songs - Hamburg. I got my tattoo that day, too.
I feel like I should mention that growing up, I listened to a lot of Billy Joel and ABBA, for whatever that is worth. I should probably say that the first 45rpm record I bought for myself was I Think We're Alone Now by Tiffany, largely so I can show that my taste in music has improved significantly as I've gotten older. My brother wouldn't let me play that record when he was around, so I said he couldn't play Patience by Guns 'n Roses. My physical appearance has led me to a certain affinity for Baby Got Back, and my relationship status kind of makes me like Single Ladies, though I don't think it was the best video ever made. That title goes to Take On Me. The first songs my mom taught me to play on the guitar were Scarlet Ribbons and The Boxer, which led to a particularly funny moment during a show when someone dropped a tray of dishes in the kitchen at the exact right moment in the chorus. When I was in Spain, my favorite songs to hear at our favorite club were Sister Golden Hair and Mr. Jones by the Counting Crows.
And I have a sort of love-hate relationship with Beethoven's Ode to Joy because of A Clockwork Orange and Immortal Beloved. In one, it is so beautiful; in the other, it is horrifying. Such is the power of music.
Baba O'Riley has to be on there, although most stuff by The Who and Led Zepplin just remind me of the SNES game F-Zero, because I used to watch my brother play that game for hours while we listened to classic rock in his room. He had the warmest room in the house, and Christmas lights around his ceiling, so it was fun. Good times with classic rock and video games.
Sweet jebus, this is long. I think the most important thing one can take away from this is that if someone were to actually create a soundtrack of my life, there would most certainly be something on there that everyone likes, and it wouldn't leave you in one place for too long before taking you on some new emotional journey or back to some beloved memory of your own.
But I do want to throw up one more link here, to a song that I can only listen to sometimes, but in many ways, it best encapsulates where I feel I am in my life right now. Thanks, Colin.
Thank you, A.A. for your question! Keep 'em coming guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
I hope you are well and wearing an easy smile.
What songs would make up your Soundtrack of My Life (so far)?
Thank you as always."
Hi, A.A..
I want to apologize for the delay in answering your question. I knew this would be a sort of epic answer and wanted to give it the proper, full attention it deserves, so it took a little while. But here goes.
I think a lot of people know by now that music has played a very important role in my life, with different styles carrying more importance at different times than others. But let's start with the early stuff and move to the later, shall we?
One of my earliest music associations (beyond my mom bringing her guitar into my preschool classroom and playing for us) still has to do with my mom. I remember dancing to Sultans of Swing in the living room with my mom one New Year's Eve, I think it was. One of the first ones when I was allowed to stay up late enough to enjoy New Year's Eve. This was also my first exposure to East Coast Swing dancing, which translated into my love of lindy hop much later on. Which, of course, leads us to Love Me or Leave Me, which may be my favorite song to dance to ever. And the greatest piano solo ever. Though I once saw a claymation short done to My Baby Just Cares for Me that made me totally fall in love with dance and music and Aardman Animations and made me wish I had a baby who just cared for me.
There are a million other swing songs that should probably get a mention in here - Mr. Pinstripe Suit because I loved Big Bad Voodoo Daddy and saw them on my 21st birthday and they all took pictures with me and signed a dollar bill for me which was later stolen and Dirk was so lovely remembering that I made a total asshole out of myself the first time I saw them live, and because it was in anticipation of that concert that I taught the boy I was in love with at the time how to dance so I could make him go with me; Buzz Buzz Buzz by the Mighty Blue Kings because of all the arguments that boy and I had about who was the better neo swing band; Sing Sing Sing because my next dance partner would always try to time our entrance into the jam so that our sailor kicks hit the music at exactly the right point (which is why I don't do sailor kicks anymore); Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen because of the neo swing movement's obsession with Swing Kids until we all figured out the dancing in that movie is not what we should be emulating on the dance floor (though it's still a fun tune to dance to and gosh darn it, Robert Sean Leonard is hot); Fly Me to the Moon, especially as sung by Blossom Dearie because that's what I got engaged to, though just about anything by Blossom Dearie is dreamy - I Won't Dance, I'm Hip, Blossom's Blues, Rhode Island is Famous For You is the one my dance partner and I were going to choreograph a routine to, you get the idea; and of course It Ain't What You Do for the shim sham and all of the amazing times and locations wherein I did the sham sham - the benefit for a dancer with cancer (which then led to a pie in the face), Frankie's memorial, various exchanges, etc. (and I know that clip is not of It Ain't What You Do, but I though the Frankie memorial was more important to link to, for everything that man brought to the world of dance); and Get Your Girl #1 by Vargas Swing because I had such a crush on Dawn Webber and they gave me free socks at one of their shows. I think it's safe to say that swing/lindy/jazz type music has played a big part in my life and will always hold good memories for me, but perhaps it's time to move on to the next genre? Otherwise, we'll be here all day.
There have been some random, scattered tunes that were playing at just the right moment in my life to leave such an impression that I sometimes I can't listen to them anymore. I remember sobbing in my car on my way from my dad's house to my mom's house in high school listening to the chorus of Regret by New Order because life was just too much and I can barely listen to the song now. Stay, Insanity, Mary, and Dead Man's Party by Oingo Boingo have all held special significance for me at one point or another - wanting the boy to stay, keeping me company on a lonely family vacation, the story of my life, and needing to dance so badly at my first rock and roll concert ever that I'm sure I injured my friend upon whose shoulders I was sitting. And by extension, Sally's Song from The Nightmare Before Christmas because I made that costume one year and rocked it, and asked my friend to teach me the song so I would be prepared just in case anyone asked me to sing it. Which no one did. Shit, let's throw in Useless, Water, and Change, too. I found Boingo (or Boingo found me) when I really needed them and I will always love Danny Elfman for that very reason.
Speaking of finding artists at exactly the right time, Bob Dylan. I have to put It Ain't Me Babe on this list because it's my theme song and I love to cover it. But yeah, found him exactly when I need him and I love the gravelly voice. It soothes my heart.
Crap, this is getting long and wordy. I'm going to be brief and random for a bit. Sorry about that.
I found Moby one summer and he kind of changed my life. I still fantasize about putting together a huge dance routine to Run On that combines lindy, charleston, hip hop and other crap. I've been to three or four Moby shows and they are incredible. I can't not dance to Go when it comes on and when he plays it at his shows, I have to jump. The entire time.
(I would like also like to do a similar dance style mash up performance thing to Come On Now by the John Butler Trio. One Way Road is also rather brilliant.)
And while we're on kind of techno type stuff, I have to mention Sander Kleinenberg, who played the best techno show I have ever seen at RedNo Five in Chicago. I have no idea what the records were he was spinning - some of them were white labels - but sweet jebus, that man can blow the roof off of a club. And he's really nice to look at, too. Really nice. Watching him spin that night was when I learned that if you bop your head backward on the downbeat instead of forward, it sits in the music better. Like starting a cha-cha on the two.
Right about now is when I feel like I should mention (for those of you who don't know) that I also write music. I usually attribute this to a couple of people - the guy who is the current face of the USPS "If it fits, it ships" campaign, another college friend, and Liz Phair. The first Liz Phair song I heard that I identified with her was Polyester Bride, and this was also the first song of hers I learned to cover. But then I went back and heard Flower and remembered hearing it at college parties, so I guess technically, that was my first exposure to Liz Phair. There was a time when I hung out on the Liz Phair message boards quite a bit, and I ended up writing a "clean" version of the song that included the phrase "You can be my personal Yoda." I was kind of proud of that. I think my favorite Liz song, though, is The Divorce Song. I was proud when I learned how to play that one, too, and practicing one of the little chord blips is what eventually led to my own song Astoria Park. That, and hanging out in Astoria Park one day. Which is a favorite of my friend in Texas who I met on the Liz Phair message boards.
But once I started writing my own music, it took a little while before I was comfortable playing it for other people. My song Allowed was sort of a gateway song for me in that respect - it gave me the confidence to play out in front of people because this fellow swing dancer guy friend of mine liked it. And it is actually about my infatuation with another swing dance instructor. I guess it all comes back to swing dancing, doesn't it?
But the fact that I was now playing my own music led me to an open mic in New York City one night where I met another bald musician I would become infatuated with. He played his song Gaslight (Oh Tomorrow) and the crush started, so of course I had to find the rest of his music. Shepherd makes me weep every time. And his song Indiana is what my song Nothing More is in response to, which is only really worth noting because Nothing More is the only love song I've ever written.
Love songs. I was in New York almost a year ago, feeling rather rotten about my station in life, and I had a bit of time to kill on my own before heading to the airport, so I took a vegan blueberry muffin into Central Park and sat on a bench to eat it while listening to my iPod. In These Arms came on and I had one of those moments wherein the world is so full of beauty that you are humbled and grateful for the brief time you have to participate in it and all you can really do is cry. I keep meaning to thank Glen Hansard/Marketa Irglova/The Frames for that, and for some of their other songs like People All Get Ready, Say it to Me Now, and When Your Mind's Made Up. Actually, I just keep meaning to thank Glen Hansard for his existence. (For her own part, Marketa Irglova is adorable, too. Met her after a show in Chicago and she was delightful and so normal but has this amazing energy I don't find in a lot of other women.)
I have had the opportunity to thank Mike Doughty for his music - he personally keeps his Facebook page and responds to fans. Your Misfortune soothes my soul when it's really hurting. It's kind of funny to me that I love Mike Doughty now because I went through this brief trip-hop period wherein I was introduced to Soul Coughing and then didn't really think about them again until Looking at the World From the Bottom of a Well came on the radio. I've now seen him play live two or three times and own five or six records? I also met a guy who said he was friends with the girl about whom Unsingable Name was written.
But I did come back around to Mike Doughty, in large part due to WXRT, the best radio station in Chicago. This station also introduced me to Mumford and Sons, by way of Little Lion Man. Their whole first album is amazing. The Cave and Awake My Soul are a couple more that are always in my playlists. Though I still think he looks wrong for that voice. I wanted him to be this sort of shriveled, withered man who tanned and smoked too much as a kid.
WXRT was also the first radio station to play one of my songs - Hamburg. I got my tattoo that day, too.
I feel like I should mention that growing up, I listened to a lot of Billy Joel and ABBA, for whatever that is worth. I should probably say that the first 45rpm record I bought for myself was I Think We're Alone Now by Tiffany, largely so I can show that my taste in music has improved significantly as I've gotten older. My brother wouldn't let me play that record when he was around, so I said he couldn't play Patience by Guns 'n Roses. My physical appearance has led me to a certain affinity for Baby Got Back, and my relationship status kind of makes me like Single Ladies, though I don't think it was the best video ever made. That title goes to Take On Me. The first songs my mom taught me to play on the guitar were Scarlet Ribbons and The Boxer, which led to a particularly funny moment during a show when someone dropped a tray of dishes in the kitchen at the exact right moment in the chorus. When I was in Spain, my favorite songs to hear at our favorite club were Sister Golden Hair and Mr. Jones by the Counting Crows.
And I have a sort of love-hate relationship with Beethoven's Ode to Joy because of A Clockwork Orange and Immortal Beloved. In one, it is so beautiful; in the other, it is horrifying. Such is the power of music.
Baba O'Riley has to be on there, although most stuff by The Who and Led Zepplin just remind me of the SNES game F-Zero, because I used to watch my brother play that game for hours while we listened to classic rock in his room. He had the warmest room in the house, and Christmas lights around his ceiling, so it was fun. Good times with classic rock and video games.
Sweet jebus, this is long. I think the most important thing one can take away from this is that if someone were to actually create a soundtrack of my life, there would most certainly be something on there that everyone likes, and it wouldn't leave you in one place for too long before taking you on some new emotional journey or back to some beloved memory of your own.
But I do want to throw up one more link here, to a song that I can only listen to sometimes, but in many ways, it best encapsulates where I feel I am in my life right now. Thanks, Colin.
Thank you, A.A. for your question! Keep 'em coming guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Friday, February 11, 2011
Facebook Parents
D.N. asks, "I read the following on an old high school friend's Facebook status update this week.
'My daughter just came home from school and ran to her room, slamming the door. Even though she's got the music turned up pretty loud, I can still hear her heartbreaking sobs of anguish through her door. I try and I try to get her to talk to me, but she just asks me to leave her alone no matter how many times I tell her to confide in me. All I can think is that something horrible happened to her at school today. Doesn't she know that I went to high school too and could probably solve whatever her silly little problem is? Somebody please tell me what to do!'
What followed was an exceptionally long list of comments, all of which empathized with the mother before going off on their own kids' selfish behavior.
No one, especially the mom in this case, stopped to think that, gee maybe something horrible DID happen at school that day. Maybe it was all the young woman could do to simply 'hold it together' until the end of the day where she could (supposedly) seek refuge in the only 'safe' place she has to go to. Maybe the only thing that could be possibly WORSE than whatever happened is to have her mom -- IN A PUBLIC FORUM -- THAT HER 'FRIENDS' FROM SCHOOL CAN EASILY ACCESS -- complain about her level of distress and her supposed selfishness for not wanting to immediately share the 'silly' details of her 'silly' problem.
My question, I guess, is this. Are Facebook parents the most narcisistic generation of parents in the history of the world? Or are we just the dumbest?
D. N."
Hi, D.N.
I don't think this is necessarily a case of Narcissism or stupidity. Let me explain. No, there is too much; let me sum up. Buttercup is marry Humperdink in little less a half an hour. All we have to do is get in, break up the wedding, steal the princess, and make our 'scape. After I kill Count Rugen.
Sorry, got a little distracted there. Back on track.
I think we need to look at this in the proper context. Parents today have to deal with all sorts of things that parents of previous generations didn't have to think about at all. The whole concept of "adolescence" is only about 100 years old - prior to that, you were a kid who became an adult. That's it. And the more we explore adolescence, the more confusing it becomes. Nowadays, you're Satan's Mistress if you spank your child, but not so long ago, children received regular beatings all in the name of "teaching them good manners." Children used to go to school and then come directly home to help out with the chores on the farm (or around the house) instead of sleeping through classes and then coming home to play World of Warcraft for six hours before bed. I'm not saying things like drugs and alcohol and sex weren't as big a deal back then, but the way we handle our children and their problems is different now. The way our children behave in school is different than it used to be, too. How many girls do you see in photographs from the 1880's wearing cut-off t-shirts and mini skirts? Not so many, right? But the way girls dress now invites all kinds of fun new slurs, taunting remarks, and derogatory terms. And we, as parents, need to learn how to help our kids through the torture chamber known as the public education system.
So your friend's kid came home all upset about something and not wanting to talk about it. Okay. Your friend wanted to talk to her kid and try to help and that is a good thing. She should be commended for her impulse. The kid should not be lambasted for her choice to not want to talk to her mom. What if the problem is that the other kids at school were teasing her for some rumor that the mom is a slut? Or what if she was found in the janitor's closet with a varsity football player and neither of them was wearing any pants? These are not the sort of things you want to talk to your mom about. In the case of the first thing, nobody wants to have to ask their mom if she is a slut because neither answer is a good one. If she's not, you look like an ass for asking in the first place and if she is, you get to have nightmares for the rest of your natural born life. And no teenage girl wants to talk to her mom about her super secret sex life for fear her mother will chime in with some story about her super secret sex life when she was a teenager and we're back to having nightmares for the rest of your natural born life again.
I guess it is possible that the issue at school was something that might not be completely mortifying to talk to one's own mother about. Maybe she got a bad grade on a test or tripped on her own shoelace walking down the hall. But what the mom needs to realize is that everyone processes things in their own way. Maybe what the kid needs is to curl up in bed and listen to music for a while until the embarrassment dies down a bit and she can talk about it. The simple fact that the mother considers whatever is causing her daughter's "heartbreaking sobs of anguish" is a "silly little problem," means that there is some sort of disconnect happening here. And maybe the daughter knows her mom will think the problem is silly and wants to be a little more composed before they chat about it so she can show her mom that really, she is fine as opposed to her mom laughing it off with, "I was in high school once, too, you know."
And the other thing about the "I was in high school once, too, you know," defense. Yes, you were. But you have not been in high school for several years. You may remember that "the love of your life" dumped you two weeks before the prom, but since that time, you met your husband who proved to be the real love of your life and you've had kids and you have a mortgage now and have been to seventeen fancy dress fundraisers so the whole prom thing isn't that big of a deal anymore. It's called "healing and moving on." Yes, you lived through it and came out on the other side. No, you don't actually remember what it was like when it happened. You have the luxury of looking at the event through Detachment Glasses. When you remember it, you look back on a younger version of yourself who you know has great things in store. But you have forgotten what it felt like to not see good things in store for you down the line. So in order to understand what your daughter is going through, you need to put it in terms of your own life where you are now. Maybe her boyfriend dumped her. Imagine your husband came home one day, packed a suitcase, and left you for his secretary. That is how she's feeling now. Empathize with that, as opposed to minimizing her problem as some silly high school trifle.
Which brings us back around to Facebook. I think the mom has the right to ask her friends for help in this situation, because I'll let you in on a little secret: none of us know what we're doing. Parents (the good ones, anyway) always think they're going to fuck up their kids and that is the most terrifying thought in the world. Your friend is wondering if she's a bad mom for letting her daughter cry, or if she's a bad mom for trying to force her daughter to talk. It feels like a no-win situation. She wants to help and doesn't know how. So she asks her friends for advice. I think that's okay. I think the problem is that the friends take sides. They should know better than to bash a kid on Facebook for having a bad day.
So to answer your question, Facebook parents are not narcissistic, nor are they dumb. They're confused and lost and reaching out for help, just like the rest of us. And no, the daughter is not being selfish because she wants to process her horrible day in her own way. The mom is right to be concerned, but at the moment, it probably best for her to let her daughter know that she is there, she loves her no matter what, and then wait for the daughter to come talk to her in her own time. But yeah, the mom's friends are probably making things worse in their attempts to comfort the mom. They should watch that.
Thank you, D.N. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
'My daughter just came home from school and ran to her room, slamming the door. Even though she's got the music turned up pretty loud, I can still hear her heartbreaking sobs of anguish through her door. I try and I try to get her to talk to me, but she just asks me to leave her alone no matter how many times I tell her to confide in me. All I can think is that something horrible happened to her at school today. Doesn't she know that I went to high school too and could probably solve whatever her silly little problem is? Somebody please tell me what to do!'
What followed was an exceptionally long list of comments, all of which empathized with the mother before going off on their own kids' selfish behavior.
No one, especially the mom in this case, stopped to think that, gee maybe something horrible DID happen at school that day. Maybe it was all the young woman could do to simply 'hold it together' until the end of the day where she could (supposedly) seek refuge in the only 'safe' place she has to go to. Maybe the only thing that could be possibly WORSE than whatever happened is to have her mom -- IN A PUBLIC FORUM -- THAT HER 'FRIENDS' FROM SCHOOL CAN EASILY ACCESS -- complain about her level of distress and her supposed selfishness for not wanting to immediately share the 'silly' details of her 'silly' problem.
My question, I guess, is this. Are Facebook parents the most narcisistic generation of parents in the history of the world? Or are we just the dumbest?
D. N."
Hi, D.N.
I don't think this is necessarily a case of Narcissism or stupidity. Let me explain. No, there is too much; let me sum up. Buttercup is marry Humperdink in little less a half an hour. All we have to do is get in, break up the wedding, steal the princess, and make our 'scape. After I kill Count Rugen.
Sorry, got a little distracted there. Back on track.
I think we need to look at this in the proper context. Parents today have to deal with all sorts of things that parents of previous generations didn't have to think about at all. The whole concept of "adolescence" is only about 100 years old - prior to that, you were a kid who became an adult. That's it. And the more we explore adolescence, the more confusing it becomes. Nowadays, you're Satan's Mistress if you spank your child, but not so long ago, children received regular beatings all in the name of "teaching them good manners." Children used to go to school and then come directly home to help out with the chores on the farm (or around the house) instead of sleeping through classes and then coming home to play World of Warcraft for six hours before bed. I'm not saying things like drugs and alcohol and sex weren't as big a deal back then, but the way we handle our children and their problems is different now. The way our children behave in school is different than it used to be, too. How many girls do you see in photographs from the 1880's wearing cut-off t-shirts and mini skirts? Not so many, right? But the way girls dress now invites all kinds of fun new slurs, taunting remarks, and derogatory terms. And we, as parents, need to learn how to help our kids through the torture chamber known as the public education system.
So your friend's kid came home all upset about something and not wanting to talk about it. Okay. Your friend wanted to talk to her kid and try to help and that is a good thing. She should be commended for her impulse. The kid should not be lambasted for her choice to not want to talk to her mom. What if the problem is that the other kids at school were teasing her for some rumor that the mom is a slut? Or what if she was found in the janitor's closet with a varsity football player and neither of them was wearing any pants? These are not the sort of things you want to talk to your mom about. In the case of the first thing, nobody wants to have to ask their mom if she is a slut because neither answer is a good one. If she's not, you look like an ass for asking in the first place and if she is, you get to have nightmares for the rest of your natural born life. And no teenage girl wants to talk to her mom about her super secret sex life for fear her mother will chime in with some story about her super secret sex life when she was a teenager and we're back to having nightmares for the rest of your natural born life again.
I guess it is possible that the issue at school was something that might not be completely mortifying to talk to one's own mother about. Maybe she got a bad grade on a test or tripped on her own shoelace walking down the hall. But what the mom needs to realize is that everyone processes things in their own way. Maybe what the kid needs is to curl up in bed and listen to music for a while until the embarrassment dies down a bit and she can talk about it. The simple fact that the mother considers whatever is causing her daughter's "heartbreaking sobs of anguish" is a "silly little problem," means that there is some sort of disconnect happening here. And maybe the daughter knows her mom will think the problem is silly and wants to be a little more composed before they chat about it so she can show her mom that really, she is fine as opposed to her mom laughing it off with, "I was in high school once, too, you know."
And the other thing about the "I was in high school once, too, you know," defense. Yes, you were. But you have not been in high school for several years. You may remember that "the love of your life" dumped you two weeks before the prom, but since that time, you met your husband who proved to be the real love of your life and you've had kids and you have a mortgage now and have been to seventeen fancy dress fundraisers so the whole prom thing isn't that big of a deal anymore. It's called "healing and moving on." Yes, you lived through it and came out on the other side. No, you don't actually remember what it was like when it happened. You have the luxury of looking at the event through Detachment Glasses. When you remember it, you look back on a younger version of yourself who you know has great things in store. But you have forgotten what it felt like to not see good things in store for you down the line. So in order to understand what your daughter is going through, you need to put it in terms of your own life where you are now. Maybe her boyfriend dumped her. Imagine your husband came home one day, packed a suitcase, and left you for his secretary. That is how she's feeling now. Empathize with that, as opposed to minimizing her problem as some silly high school trifle.
Which brings us back around to Facebook. I think the mom has the right to ask her friends for help in this situation, because I'll let you in on a little secret: none of us know what we're doing. Parents (the good ones, anyway) always think they're going to fuck up their kids and that is the most terrifying thought in the world. Your friend is wondering if she's a bad mom for letting her daughter cry, or if she's a bad mom for trying to force her daughter to talk. It feels like a no-win situation. She wants to help and doesn't know how. So she asks her friends for advice. I think that's okay. I think the problem is that the friends take sides. They should know better than to bash a kid on Facebook for having a bad day.
So to answer your question, Facebook parents are not narcissistic, nor are they dumb. They're confused and lost and reaching out for help, just like the rest of us. And no, the daughter is not being selfish because she wants to process her horrible day in her own way. The mom is right to be concerned, but at the moment, it probably best for her to let her daughter know that she is there, she loves her no matter what, and then wait for the daughter to come talk to her in her own time. But yeah, the mom's friends are probably making things worse in their attempts to comfort the mom. They should watch that.
Thank you, D.N. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Monday, December 20, 2010
Belly Dancing
H.B. asks, "Dear Miss Kitty,
So my new girlfriend takes these bellydance classes and they have a performance coming up that's called a 'hafla.' I've been to one before, and she kept asking me all of these questions about the other dancers: "Did you notice when the one woman shimmied so hard her boobs almost fell out? Did you notice the beading on the butts? The appliques? Aren't the fifteen year-old's hip drops amazing? What did you think of the chest work?" etc. How do I answer these questions in such a way that it sounds like I paid attention without making it sound like I paid TOO MUCH attention? And is it better for me to act like I'm being dragged to the event or do you think it's ok to show my enthusiasm for the dancing?
H. B."
Kudos on landing a chick who belly dances, dude. Well done.
I have to say, first of all, that chances are when your girlfriend asks you those kinds of questions, she's chatting about the show the same way anyone would after seeing any kind of show. Or she's fishing. One of the two. It can be hard to tell because women are sneaky.
But I can help you, with simple suggestions on how to answer such questions in a polite "I was watching the show" kind of way without venturing into "I had to take an extra ten minutes in the men's room at intermission" kind of a way.
For example, when she asks, "Did you notice when the one woman shimmied so hard her boobs almost fell out?" you can reply, "Thank goodness they didn't!" Just make sure to make it sound sincere - any sarcasm here could be the end of your relationship. As could expounding on the subject, thus turning yourself into the bumbling idiot in every romantic comedy movie ever made.
When she asks, "Did you notice the beading on the butts? The appliques?" simply reply, "No. I was listening to the music and didn't really notice." This will show you were paying attention to the show, but not oogling the other dancers.
When she asks, "Aren't the fifteen year-old's hip drops amazing?" it is okay to just let that question sink to the bottom of the conversation, never to be found again, not even by those guys who found the Titanic. There is no good answer to that question, so it's probably best to become violently ill, or have your mouth full to something that you can either spray at her when she asks (in an attempt to speak with your mouth full - if it looks like a spit-take, she'll get suspicious), or that you can "choke on" because you "swallowed wrong." In any case, a swift change of subject is the best response.
And finally, when she asks, "What did you think of the chest work?" tell her that hers was amazing and give her a quick kiss.
If you are dating a woman who belly dances, she gets it. She knows it is a type of performance and it is to be viewed as an art form, so she would probably appreciate it if you showed some sort of enthusiasm about going to see her show. Specifically, going to see her in her show. The other performers are blurs of color and jingles that just make her look that much better.
Got it?
Thank you, H.B. for your question! Keep 'em coming guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
So my new girlfriend takes these bellydance classes and they have a performance coming up that's called a 'hafla.' I've been to one before, and she kept asking me all of these questions about the other dancers: "Did you notice when the one woman shimmied so hard her boobs almost fell out? Did you notice the beading on the butts? The appliques? Aren't the fifteen year-old's hip drops amazing? What did you think of the chest work?" etc. How do I answer these questions in such a way that it sounds like I paid attention without making it sound like I paid TOO MUCH attention? And is it better for me to act like I'm being dragged to the event or do you think it's ok to show my enthusiasm for the dancing?
H. B."
Kudos on landing a chick who belly dances, dude. Well done.
I have to say, first of all, that chances are when your girlfriend asks you those kinds of questions, she's chatting about the show the same way anyone would after seeing any kind of show. Or she's fishing. One of the two. It can be hard to tell because women are sneaky.
But I can help you, with simple suggestions on how to answer such questions in a polite "I was watching the show" kind of way without venturing into "I had to take an extra ten minutes in the men's room at intermission" kind of a way.
For example, when she asks, "Did you notice when the one woman shimmied so hard her boobs almost fell out?" you can reply, "Thank goodness they didn't!" Just make sure to make it sound sincere - any sarcasm here could be the end of your relationship. As could expounding on the subject, thus turning yourself into the bumbling idiot in every romantic comedy movie ever made.
When she asks, "Did you notice the beading on the butts? The appliques?" simply reply, "No. I was listening to the music and didn't really notice." This will show you were paying attention to the show, but not oogling the other dancers.
When she asks, "Aren't the fifteen year-old's hip drops amazing?" it is okay to just let that question sink to the bottom of the conversation, never to be found again, not even by those guys who found the Titanic. There is no good answer to that question, so it's probably best to become violently ill, or have your mouth full to something that you can either spray at her when she asks (in an attempt to speak with your mouth full - if it looks like a spit-take, she'll get suspicious), or that you can "choke on" because you "swallowed wrong." In any case, a swift change of subject is the best response.
And finally, when she asks, "What did you think of the chest work?" tell her that hers was amazing and give her a quick kiss.
If you are dating a woman who belly dances, she gets it. She knows it is a type of performance and it is to be viewed as an art form, so she would probably appreciate it if you showed some sort of enthusiasm about going to see her show. Specifically, going to see her in her show. The other performers are blurs of color and jingles that just make her look that much better.
Got it?
Thank you, H.B. for your question! Keep 'em coming guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
"The Devil Wears Prada" - SPOILERS
L.W. asks,"Hey,
If you haven't seen the movie 'The Devil Wears Prada', then please don't read this question. I only recently saw the movie myself and enjoyed it more than I thought I would, so if you haven't seen it but plan to in the future, please stop reading now.
Dear Miss Kitty,
As Stephen Hawking once said, "the male mind is a weak tool," -- especially when it comes to understanding women. I am a guy who has somehow found myself in the middle of an argument with an old female friend and could sorely use some of your sage advice. It all began innocently enough when I finally got around to watching the film 'The Devil Wears Prada.' I enjoyed it more than I thought I would, especially the hero's journey the lead character undergoes armed only with her youthful 'courage and pluck.' What I failed to understand is why the film ends with this character getting back together with her lame boyfriend. Perhaps I failed to understand why he refused to emotionally support her for a single year working a job that would have provided her with a resume that would allow her to land any future job she chose. Instead of viewing her 'apprenticeship' as one would medical school or law school, her boyfriend and their 'friends' are shown to ridicule and undermine her at every opportunity (except when she discovers lingerie). His 'non-apology apology' at the conclusion of the film coupled with the fact that the most supportive action he ever took was feeding her leftover cheese makes it difficult for me to suspend my disbelief that this smart, charming, beautiful, hard-working woman would beg him to take her back.
So, I thought I had missed something and emailed a female friend for her take on the film. Her response:
'I have indeed seen Devil wears Prada. We used to joke about it a lot at my old job since we basically worked for the same woman. I do find it interesting that you've focused your attention on the side plot of this romance. And I don't recall her ever being subservient to him. I think the message of the story is about leading a life you chose, and that is by definition feminism. I don't think there is anything wrong with a nice boy who will cook you dinner when you've had a bad day. It's a lot better than what most gals have. She didn't stay with him because she had to and she checked out some other merchandise.
But then again, I left my high profile job for one where the money is less, but the respect is far greater. And I gave up searching for a powerful partner filled with money and excitement for a boy who listens to me, buys me ice cream and walks my dog at 4 am.'
I am now utterly confused. Is the boyfriend character in the film really a great guy and I'm just not seeing it? And why is my friend now angry with me?
L.W."
Hey, L.W. I had not previously seen the movie, but as I have promised to answer every question that is asked, I went to the video store, forked over $3.23, and watched the thing. I hadn't watched it previously because it didn't look like the kind of movie I would enjoy. And I was right.
I will say that Meryl Streep was brilliant as her character, but then, she's Meryl Friggin' Streep. And Stanley Tucci was lovely, as always, but then, he's Stanley Friggin' Tucci. So please keep in mind that nothing I say in the rest of this post is intended as a reflection on either of them. I thought they were great.
In general, though, I thought the film was crap. Sorry, the script was crap. Or maybe they just performed it crappily. Or maybe I just don't have a strong enough sense of disbelief to think that there is a world wherein this woman is considered fat and ugly. Oh no! They put a frumpy sweater on her and teased the bottom inch and a half of her hair! She's hideous! Yeah, not buyin' it. And I know that the modeling/fashion industry is really hard on the collective female self image, but I'm also not buyin' it that Ms. Hathaway is a size six. Her supposedly gorgeous coworker does not look smaller than Anne. She maybe just has smaller boobs. But she did manage to marry John Krasinsky, so good on ya, mate.
So okay, let's say that is just me and the rest of y'all are willing to buy into the plaid skirt = atrocious philosophy. Let's take a look at her relationships. She's living with a guy who has a dream of being a chef, and at the end of the film, he's moving to Boston to pursue his dreams and isn't that great? But like you observed, he begrudges her taking this annoying job at the magazine in pursuit of her dreams. Kind of a douche. And yes, she could have blown of the gala and gotten fired so she could be there for his birthday, but seriously, who is going to say to Dragon Lady boss, "I'm not going to go to this fabulous event where I get to wear amazing clothes and meet people who can further my career because my boyfriend will get pouty if I miss his birthday dinner?" Who does that? Yes, it is an option, but not an option that any career motivated-type person is going to take. Especially since we see at the beginning of the film that this is the only job she's even gotten an interview for since graduation. Has Boyfriend forgotten that if she loses her job, she also loses her paycheck? Which I'm guessing has to be a pretty decent size, considering how much she was able to turn her wardrobe around in such a short amount of time. Because really, do we honestly believe that Stanley Tucci is dressing her out of the sample closet every morning when she's too much of a cow to fit into anything they have back there in the first place? So yeah, you're right. Boyfriend is a douche. And your friend is also kind of right - we don't really see her being subservient to him, but she does come home with a cupcake and an apology which he refuses to take. I was waiting for her to scream, "I just passed up an opportunity to schmooze with the Editor-in-Chief of The New Yorker so I could bring you this sad little cupcake and you're pissed at me?" I would have. Or at least I'd like to think I would have. But yeah. He owes her an apology for being completely non-supportive of anything she does, except when she brings him free crap from work. But instead, she apologizes for REALLY NOT CHANGING AT ALL.
That's right. I said it. I don't see her change at all. Except her wardrobe. At the beginning, she's a strong, confident woman who is extraordinarily nice to everyone, whether they deserve it or not. At the end, she's a strong confident woman who is extraordinarily nice to everyone, whether they deserve it or not, who dresses better. At no point in the film does she become a conniving bitch, even though she is made to think she is. Which brings me to the next two relationships that don't make any sense in this film.
Her best friend. Otherwise known as "the only non-Caucasian person in the film." Look at how diverse we are! One second, she's in love with Ms. Hathaway's character because she just received a really expensive, impossible to find, one of a kind handbag for free. FOR FREE. And not ten seconds later, she's pissed that Ms. Hathaway "slights" her to answer a call from her boss. Who was the provider of the beautiful free bag in the first place. Hello! If she doesn't take the call from her boss, and jump every time her boss tells her to, she doesn't get all the pretty pretty swag which she then gives to you. That scene might have made more sense if as Anne was walking out the door, the friend said, "Take your stupid bag with you. I'd rather have dinner with my friend." But no, she sits clutching the bag like it's her precious, scowling at the person who just gave it to her. And then we flash to a few nights later when Anne shows up to her friend's art show. Anne's being supportive! Which none of her friends have bothered to be of her, but she's there. And the friend witnesses a kiss on the cheek between Anne and an "unknown gentleman" and all of a sudden, Anne isn't the person she knew anymore? What? They weren't making out. They were talking and he kissed her goodbye the way you'd kiss your grandmother goodbye. Hell, I'm willing to bet that 85% of the people in the fashion industry say goodbye that way. But without even letting her get a word out, bam! They're not friends anymore. No thank you for the bag, but I'm keeping it anyway.
And then, the relationship with the coworker across the corridor. Who is horrible to Anne through the entire movie. Seriously, she never does one nice thing for her. Makes fun of her to her face. Tells her to shut up and go away when she tries to make small talk. Is a selfish, self-centered bitch. And Anne, for some unknown reason, feels this devotion to her, as if she owed her something. This person has never been nice to you. There is no indication that this person will ever be nice to you. You do not have to feel guilty for doing a better job at work than she does. This is the straw that supposedly breaks her at the end of the film - she "took" the trip to Paris away from Emily. Except no, she didn't. She worked harder and proved herself to be more reliable (and less germ-ridden and less on-crutches-after-being-hit-by-a-car), and she was rewarded for that. Sure, she could have turned it down, but first of all, who would turn down a promotion for a co-worker who treats you like shit, and secondly, there was no guarantee that Emily would have gone to Paris if Anne hadn't. Meryl says that she wants to take the best team with her to Fashion Week and that no longer includes Emily. Which, to me, sounds more like Emily screwed herself out of a trip to Paris than anything sneaky and conniving that Anne did. Especially since Anne does nothing sneaky and conniving in the entire film.
And just because I have a little bit of a rant left in me, her relationship with Stanley Tucci's character. He's marvelous. The more I see of him, the more I like him. But he's not exactly welcoming of her when she joins the company. He, too, calls her fat and makes fun of her clothes. So she goes to him when she's having a bad day and needs advice? What? When did they become friends? Yes, they become friends later in the film, after she lets him play with her wardrobe, but that's kind of random and needy, don't you think? If anyone in the film had the right to be irked by her behavior, it was him. And he was not. He grew to love her and find her charming and delightful. So why don't any of her friends love her and find her charming and delightful?
And why does she take the non-supportive boyfriend back at the end of the film? Because as much as she wants to be the strong, powerful woman who knows what she wants, she is most comfortable in abusive relationships. It's the only explanation, really. It explains why she chose those friends in the first place. It explains why she didn't walk away from that job a half-dozen times. It explains why it becomes so important to her to impress Meryl. It explains why she feels some twisted loyalty to Emily. She may be a good writer, and she may be a beautiful woman. But from where I was sitting, I saw a woman who has some really screwed up ideas of what relationships are supposed to be, so it really was no surprise that after everyone has beaten her down through the entire film, she goes crawling back to her bum of a boyfriend (who she will probably leave New York for) under the guises of "this is my choice." If you really wanted to choose something good for yourself, a happy life for yourself, you would choose to get rid of all of the abusive relationships in it, not just quit your job. And she didn't even use the connections she made in the craptastic job! Not really. She interviews at the end for "The New York Mirror." She supposedly just "sold her soul" to get a credit on her resume that would take her anywhere so she "chooses" to go to Sheboygan? Really? If you can do anything, you're going to write for a paper nobody reads? Okay. Sure. This is a film about feminism and female power and choosing the life you lead. I can't wait to show this to my daughters to teach them to work extremely hard and be extremely nice so they can settle for eighth best and call it a "choice."
And I suppose I now sound like the Meryl Streep character. Oh well.
I'm sorry. I was supposed to be answering a question, but instead I'm ripping on a film. In short, no, the boyfriend is not a good guy. I was kind of sickened when she went back to him at the end. I would prefer a guy like your friend has, who would listen to me and buy me ice cream and walk my dog (if I had one). I think your friend, though, may have been equating your thoughts on the boyfriend in the film to her boyfriend in real life. Because we also need to mention the other romantic interest in the film (the guy with too much product in his hair), who is probably like the "powerful partner filled with money and excitement" that your friend gave up looking for. Which she probably took to mean you meant she wound up with the boyfriend from the film, who you were calling a douche, ergo, you were calling her boyfriend a douche. Which is why she is upset with you. Go apologize to your friend. And then go watch a good movie, where the lead character goes on a journey somewhere more interesting than to the mall.
Thank you, J.H. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
If you haven't seen the movie 'The Devil Wears Prada', then please don't read this question. I only recently saw the movie myself and enjoyed it more than I thought I would, so if you haven't seen it but plan to in the future, please stop reading now.
Dear Miss Kitty,
As Stephen Hawking once said, "the male mind is a weak tool," -- especially when it comes to understanding women. I am a guy who has somehow found myself in the middle of an argument with an old female friend and could sorely use some of your sage advice. It all began innocently enough when I finally got around to watching the film 'The Devil Wears Prada.' I enjoyed it more than I thought I would, especially the hero's journey the lead character undergoes armed only with her youthful 'courage and pluck.' What I failed to understand is why the film ends with this character getting back together with her lame boyfriend. Perhaps I failed to understand why he refused to emotionally support her for a single year working a job that would have provided her with a resume that would allow her to land any future job she chose. Instead of viewing her 'apprenticeship' as one would medical school or law school, her boyfriend and their 'friends' are shown to ridicule and undermine her at every opportunity (except when she discovers lingerie). His 'non-apology apology' at the conclusion of the film coupled with the fact that the most supportive action he ever took was feeding her leftover cheese makes it difficult for me to suspend my disbelief that this smart, charming, beautiful, hard-working woman would beg him to take her back.
So, I thought I had missed something and emailed a female friend for her take on the film. Her response:
'I have indeed seen Devil wears Prada. We used to joke about it a lot at my old job since we basically worked for the same woman. I do find it interesting that you've focused your attention on the side plot of this romance. And I don't recall her ever being subservient to him. I think the message of the story is about leading a life you chose, and that is by definition feminism. I don't think there is anything wrong with a nice boy who will cook you dinner when you've had a bad day. It's a lot better than what most gals have. She didn't stay with him because she had to and she checked out some other merchandise.
But then again, I left my high profile job for one where the money is less, but the respect is far greater. And I gave up searching for a powerful partner filled with money and excitement for a boy who listens to me, buys me ice cream and walks my dog at 4 am.'
I am now utterly confused. Is the boyfriend character in the film really a great guy and I'm just not seeing it? And why is my friend now angry with me?
L.W."
Hey, L.W. I had not previously seen the movie, but as I have promised to answer every question that is asked, I went to the video store, forked over $3.23, and watched the thing. I hadn't watched it previously because it didn't look like the kind of movie I would enjoy. And I was right.
I will say that Meryl Streep was brilliant as her character, but then, she's Meryl Friggin' Streep. And Stanley Tucci was lovely, as always, but then, he's Stanley Friggin' Tucci. So please keep in mind that nothing I say in the rest of this post is intended as a reflection on either of them. I thought they were great.
In general, though, I thought the film was crap. Sorry, the script was crap. Or maybe they just performed it crappily. Or maybe I just don't have a strong enough sense of disbelief to think that there is a world wherein this woman is considered fat and ugly. Oh no! They put a frumpy sweater on her and teased the bottom inch and a half of her hair! She's hideous! Yeah, not buyin' it. And I know that the modeling/fashion industry is really hard on the collective female self image, but I'm also not buyin' it that Ms. Hathaway is a size six. Her supposedly gorgeous coworker does not look smaller than Anne. She maybe just has smaller boobs. But she did manage to marry John Krasinsky, so good on ya, mate.
So okay, let's say that is just me and the rest of y'all are willing to buy into the plaid skirt = atrocious philosophy. Let's take a look at her relationships. She's living with a guy who has a dream of being a chef, and at the end of the film, he's moving to Boston to pursue his dreams and isn't that great? But like you observed, he begrudges her taking this annoying job at the magazine in pursuit of her dreams. Kind of a douche. And yes, she could have blown of the gala and gotten fired so she could be there for his birthday, but seriously, who is going to say to Dragon Lady boss, "I'm not going to go to this fabulous event where I get to wear amazing clothes and meet people who can further my career because my boyfriend will get pouty if I miss his birthday dinner?" Who does that? Yes, it is an option, but not an option that any career motivated-type person is going to take. Especially since we see at the beginning of the film that this is the only job she's even gotten an interview for since graduation. Has Boyfriend forgotten that if she loses her job, she also loses her paycheck? Which I'm guessing has to be a pretty decent size, considering how much she was able to turn her wardrobe around in such a short amount of time. Because really, do we honestly believe that Stanley Tucci is dressing her out of the sample closet every morning when she's too much of a cow to fit into anything they have back there in the first place? So yeah, you're right. Boyfriend is a douche. And your friend is also kind of right - we don't really see her being subservient to him, but she does come home with a cupcake and an apology which he refuses to take. I was waiting for her to scream, "I just passed up an opportunity to schmooze with the Editor-in-Chief of The New Yorker so I could bring you this sad little cupcake and you're pissed at me?" I would have. Or at least I'd like to think I would have. But yeah. He owes her an apology for being completely non-supportive of anything she does, except when she brings him free crap from work. But instead, she apologizes for REALLY NOT CHANGING AT ALL.
That's right. I said it. I don't see her change at all. Except her wardrobe. At the beginning, she's a strong, confident woman who is extraordinarily nice to everyone, whether they deserve it or not. At the end, she's a strong confident woman who is extraordinarily nice to everyone, whether they deserve it or not, who dresses better. At no point in the film does she become a conniving bitch, even though she is made to think she is. Which brings me to the next two relationships that don't make any sense in this film.
Her best friend. Otherwise known as "the only non-Caucasian person in the film." Look at how diverse we are! One second, she's in love with Ms. Hathaway's character because she just received a really expensive, impossible to find, one of a kind handbag for free. FOR FREE. And not ten seconds later, she's pissed that Ms. Hathaway "slights" her to answer a call from her boss. Who was the provider of the beautiful free bag in the first place. Hello! If she doesn't take the call from her boss, and jump every time her boss tells her to, she doesn't get all the pretty pretty swag which she then gives to you. That scene might have made more sense if as Anne was walking out the door, the friend said, "Take your stupid bag with you. I'd rather have dinner with my friend." But no, she sits clutching the bag like it's her precious, scowling at the person who just gave it to her. And then we flash to a few nights later when Anne shows up to her friend's art show. Anne's being supportive! Which none of her friends have bothered to be of her, but she's there. And the friend witnesses a kiss on the cheek between Anne and an "unknown gentleman" and all of a sudden, Anne isn't the person she knew anymore? What? They weren't making out. They were talking and he kissed her goodbye the way you'd kiss your grandmother goodbye. Hell, I'm willing to bet that 85% of the people in the fashion industry say goodbye that way. But without even letting her get a word out, bam! They're not friends anymore. No thank you for the bag, but I'm keeping it anyway.
And then, the relationship with the coworker across the corridor. Who is horrible to Anne through the entire movie. Seriously, she never does one nice thing for her. Makes fun of her to her face. Tells her to shut up and go away when she tries to make small talk. Is a selfish, self-centered bitch. And Anne, for some unknown reason, feels this devotion to her, as if she owed her something. This person has never been nice to you. There is no indication that this person will ever be nice to you. You do not have to feel guilty for doing a better job at work than she does. This is the straw that supposedly breaks her at the end of the film - she "took" the trip to Paris away from Emily. Except no, she didn't. She worked harder and proved herself to be more reliable (and less germ-ridden and less on-crutches-after-being-hit-by-a-car), and she was rewarded for that. Sure, she could have turned it down, but first of all, who would turn down a promotion for a co-worker who treats you like shit, and secondly, there was no guarantee that Emily would have gone to Paris if Anne hadn't. Meryl says that she wants to take the best team with her to Fashion Week and that no longer includes Emily. Which, to me, sounds more like Emily screwed herself out of a trip to Paris than anything sneaky and conniving that Anne did. Especially since Anne does nothing sneaky and conniving in the entire film.
And just because I have a little bit of a rant left in me, her relationship with Stanley Tucci's character. He's marvelous. The more I see of him, the more I like him. But he's not exactly welcoming of her when she joins the company. He, too, calls her fat and makes fun of her clothes. So she goes to him when she's having a bad day and needs advice? What? When did they become friends? Yes, they become friends later in the film, after she lets him play with her wardrobe, but that's kind of random and needy, don't you think? If anyone in the film had the right to be irked by her behavior, it was him. And he was not. He grew to love her and find her charming and delightful. So why don't any of her friends love her and find her charming and delightful?
And why does she take the non-supportive boyfriend back at the end of the film? Because as much as she wants to be the strong, powerful woman who knows what she wants, she is most comfortable in abusive relationships. It's the only explanation, really. It explains why she chose those friends in the first place. It explains why she didn't walk away from that job a half-dozen times. It explains why it becomes so important to her to impress Meryl. It explains why she feels some twisted loyalty to Emily. She may be a good writer, and she may be a beautiful woman. But from where I was sitting, I saw a woman who has some really screwed up ideas of what relationships are supposed to be, so it really was no surprise that after everyone has beaten her down through the entire film, she goes crawling back to her bum of a boyfriend (who she will probably leave New York for) under the guises of "this is my choice." If you really wanted to choose something good for yourself, a happy life for yourself, you would choose to get rid of all of the abusive relationships in it, not just quit your job. And she didn't even use the connections she made in the craptastic job! Not really. She interviews at the end for "The New York Mirror." She supposedly just "sold her soul" to get a credit on her resume that would take her anywhere so she "chooses" to go to Sheboygan? Really? If you can do anything, you're going to write for a paper nobody reads? Okay. Sure. This is a film about feminism and female power and choosing the life you lead. I can't wait to show this to my daughters to teach them to work extremely hard and be extremely nice so they can settle for eighth best and call it a "choice."
And I suppose I now sound like the Meryl Streep character. Oh well.
I'm sorry. I was supposed to be answering a question, but instead I'm ripping on a film. In short, no, the boyfriend is not a good guy. I was kind of sickened when she went back to him at the end. I would prefer a guy like your friend has, who would listen to me and buy me ice cream and walk my dog (if I had one). I think your friend, though, may have been equating your thoughts on the boyfriend in the film to her boyfriend in real life. Because we also need to mention the other romantic interest in the film (the guy with too much product in his hair), who is probably like the "powerful partner filled with money and excitement" that your friend gave up looking for. Which she probably took to mean you meant she wound up with the boyfriend from the film, who you were calling a douche, ergo, you were calling her boyfriend a douche. Which is why she is upset with you. Go apologize to your friend. And then go watch a good movie, where the lead character goes on a journey somewhere more interesting than to the mall.
Thank you, J.H. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Monday, December 6, 2010
Tolerance
J.M. asks, "Dear Miss Kitty:
I believe that I'm intelligent enough to know that the deeply-ingrained nature of a large chunk of the US that is "against" LGBT rights, such as same-sex marriage and elimination of DADT, is that they are not actually "homophobic," per se, in that they
literally have a "fear of homosexuals," but rather that they simply have an aversion to homosexuals or the idea of same-sex activity.
I understand that there is a religious justification to be "against" homosexuals and/or same-sex activity, but many of the folks "against" LGBTs neither "fear" them, nor use religious justification for persecution.
So my question is, what other justifications are there for the social "othering" and persecution of LGBT Americans, does sexuality and sexual attraction have a moral standard outside of religion, and why is the resistance to LGBT acceptance so intense even in secular America?"
Hi, J.M.
First of all, I don't think there are any legitimate justifications for being "against" homosexuals and/or same-sex activity.
None.
I'm saying that right out at the front so everyone knows what kind of post this will be. If you disagree with me on that point, you may want to stop reading right now because I will offend you. But that is my opinion, one I hold very dear, and I am allowed to have that opinion as much as you are allowed to disagree with it.
Now, that being said, there are a lot of people out there who still feel kind of ooky when they see two men kiss (and for those of you who have no problem with it, those are three separate links, for which I will just say, "You're welcome"). Okay, they have a hang-up. That's their business.
I think the larger issue here is that America is, really, a very sexually repressed country. We like to think we are advanced, but we're not. I would go so far to say that it is only in the last few years that the idea of heterosexual sex with the woman on top became mainstream. Prior to that, it meant she was a crazy sex-fiend lunatic and that poor man she's with had better watch out because there's no telling what she'll do to him.
We are taught from a very young age to be ashamed of our bodies. Keep everything hidden. Don't touch anyone or let anyone touch you because it might lead to something bad. And certainly don't let anyone that you like know that you like them because that means opening yourself up to someone which means you will get hurt and oh dear god, we should never ever ever allow ourselves to get hurt!
But even when they try to be open about it and teach us about sex in school, it is done from a very sterile, clinical perspective. "When the man becomes aroused, he experiences increased blood flow to the penis, which then becomes hard." There is absolutely no discussion about what happens to make him become aroused. And all of those poor little boys running around wearing corduroy pants that just feel so good start to think they are crazy because their own pants turned them on. There is nobody to tell them that this is normal, and that it doesn't mean they are in love with corduroy pants and need to marry corduroy pants someday to have little half-human half-pants children, that it's all just a matter of their hormones going ape shit at the moment. And, of course, since he's too embarrassed to say anything, it becomes a shameful secret, which (oddly) then makes him get more turned on by his own pants and it becomes this vicious cycle wherein he asks all of his adult sexual partners to invest in corduroy undergarments. All because we were taught only the mechanics of heterosexual sex in school, but none of the other physical, spiritual, or emotional components of intimacy.
So we're weird about sex in general. It's how we are. I'm not saying that's good and I'm not saying that's bad. It is the state of our culture right now. Americans are weird about sex. We're fine with watching people blow one another up in movies and video games, but as soon as there is intimacy involved, that shit gets an NC-17 rating and your friends and colleagues look at you funny if you express any interest in seeing that film or playing that video game.
What makes this so hard for the LGBT community, then, is that for people who are not LGBT, that is a completely foreign kind of sex. Completely. A lot of them can't even figure out the mechanics of it. Yes, it is true that a lot of people out there are also unfamiliar with things like bondage, but they can at least try it on a smaller scale in the comfort of their own bedroom and they get to feel all naughty for using silk scarves in their basically missionary sex. It is close to the realm of the imaginable. For men who are sexually repressed, the idea of things going into or coming out of certain orifices is just not imaginable. Therefore anyone who likes that sort of thing must be really friggin' weird. And seeing as the man in question is really repressed in the first place, he's not too keen on being anywhere near anyone who is really friggin' weird. Which is probably better for us weirdos. He just happens to be really loud, too, which is annoying.
I think that that same sexually repressed man is also weirded out by people with fetishes, exhibitionists, any person whose sexual experience isn't exactly like his. He thinks he knows what sex is and what sex is supposed to be and anyone who does anything else is wrong. Because if there is the possibility that they are right in what they are doing, then he must be wrong and a deviant and all of that stuff, which just really doesn't fit in with his world view.
The thing is, people with fetishes and exhibitionists and the like aren't as vocal as the LGBT community. I'm not saying that if the LGBT community would just shut up that things would be fine - I am not advocating that AT ALL. If anything, I'm saying the exhibitionists should speak up more. Sex is a very personal thing. A VERY personal thing. I might even go so far as to say that people's sexual preferences are like snowflakes - no two people are turned on by exactly the same thing. And maybe if as a society, we were more aware of just how diverse everyone's tastes are, we'd be more accepting of all of them. And more accepting of ourselves.
I kind of have to thank the LGBT community for being the trailblazers here. It's not easy to be the first to say, "We like something that is different to what you like," so thank you for doing that. Hopefully someday we'll all be able to talk openly about sex and preferences and such without anyone getting hurt.
Thank you, J.M. for your question. Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
I believe that I'm intelligent enough to know that the deeply-ingrained nature of a large chunk of the US that is "against" LGBT rights, such as same-sex marriage and elimination of DADT, is that they are not actually "homophobic," per se, in that they
literally have a "fear of homosexuals," but rather that they simply have an aversion to homosexuals or the idea of same-sex activity.
I understand that there is a religious justification to be "against" homosexuals and/or same-sex activity, but many of the folks "against" LGBTs neither "fear" them, nor use religious justification for persecution.
So my question is, what other justifications are there for the social "othering" and persecution of LGBT Americans, does sexuality and sexual attraction have a moral standard outside of religion, and why is the resistance to LGBT acceptance so intense even in secular America?"
Hi, J.M.
First of all, I don't think there are any legitimate justifications for being "against" homosexuals and/or same-sex activity.
None.
I'm saying that right out at the front so everyone knows what kind of post this will be. If you disagree with me on that point, you may want to stop reading right now because I will offend you. But that is my opinion, one I hold very dear, and I am allowed to have that opinion as much as you are allowed to disagree with it.
Now, that being said, there are a lot of people out there who still feel kind of ooky when they see two men kiss (and for those of you who have no problem with it, those are three separate links, for which I will just say, "You're welcome"). Okay, they have a hang-up. That's their business.
I think the larger issue here is that America is, really, a very sexually repressed country. We like to think we are advanced, but we're not. I would go so far to say that it is only in the last few years that the idea of heterosexual sex with the woman on top became mainstream. Prior to that, it meant she was a crazy sex-fiend lunatic and that poor man she's with had better watch out because there's no telling what she'll do to him.
We are taught from a very young age to be ashamed of our bodies. Keep everything hidden. Don't touch anyone or let anyone touch you because it might lead to something bad. And certainly don't let anyone that you like know that you like them because that means opening yourself up to someone which means you will get hurt and oh dear god, we should never ever ever allow ourselves to get hurt!
But even when they try to be open about it and teach us about sex in school, it is done from a very sterile, clinical perspective. "When the man becomes aroused, he experiences increased blood flow to the penis, which then becomes hard." There is absolutely no discussion about what happens to make him become aroused. And all of those poor little boys running around wearing corduroy pants that just feel so good start to think they are crazy because their own pants turned them on. There is nobody to tell them that this is normal, and that it doesn't mean they are in love with corduroy pants and need to marry corduroy pants someday to have little half-human half-pants children, that it's all just a matter of their hormones going ape shit at the moment. And, of course, since he's too embarrassed to say anything, it becomes a shameful secret, which (oddly) then makes him get more turned on by his own pants and it becomes this vicious cycle wherein he asks all of his adult sexual partners to invest in corduroy undergarments. All because we were taught only the mechanics of heterosexual sex in school, but none of the other physical, spiritual, or emotional components of intimacy.
So we're weird about sex in general. It's how we are. I'm not saying that's good and I'm not saying that's bad. It is the state of our culture right now. Americans are weird about sex. We're fine with watching people blow one another up in movies and video games, but as soon as there is intimacy involved, that shit gets an NC-17 rating and your friends and colleagues look at you funny if you express any interest in seeing that film or playing that video game.
What makes this so hard for the LGBT community, then, is that for people who are not LGBT, that is a completely foreign kind of sex. Completely. A lot of them can't even figure out the mechanics of it. Yes, it is true that a lot of people out there are also unfamiliar with things like bondage, but they can at least try it on a smaller scale in the comfort of their own bedroom and they get to feel all naughty for using silk scarves in their basically missionary sex. It is close to the realm of the imaginable. For men who are sexually repressed, the idea of things going into or coming out of certain orifices is just not imaginable. Therefore anyone who likes that sort of thing must be really friggin' weird. And seeing as the man in question is really repressed in the first place, he's not too keen on being anywhere near anyone who is really friggin' weird. Which is probably better for us weirdos. He just happens to be really loud, too, which is annoying.
I think that that same sexually repressed man is also weirded out by people with fetishes, exhibitionists, any person whose sexual experience isn't exactly like his. He thinks he knows what sex is and what sex is supposed to be and anyone who does anything else is wrong. Because if there is the possibility that they are right in what they are doing, then he must be wrong and a deviant and all of that stuff, which just really doesn't fit in with his world view.
The thing is, people with fetishes and exhibitionists and the like aren't as vocal as the LGBT community. I'm not saying that if the LGBT community would just shut up that things would be fine - I am not advocating that AT ALL. If anything, I'm saying the exhibitionists should speak up more. Sex is a very personal thing. A VERY personal thing. I might even go so far as to say that people's sexual preferences are like snowflakes - no two people are turned on by exactly the same thing. And maybe if as a society, we were more aware of just how diverse everyone's tastes are, we'd be more accepting of all of them. And more accepting of ourselves.
I kind of have to thank the LGBT community for being the trailblazers here. It's not easy to be the first to say, "We like something that is different to what you like," so thank you for doing that. Hopefully someday we'll all be able to talk openly about sex and preferences and such without anyone getting hurt.
Thank you, J.M. for your question. Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Nicolas Cage
M.P asks, "Miss Kitty...
I find myself sitting here watching a video entitled "Nic Cage loses his shit," which consists of edits from all manner of films he's appeared in, having full-on freak outs. It got me thinking. We have here an actor who's undeniably brave, and willing to go to any extreme the character suggests to him. It's a level of skill and commitment that cannot be undervalued.Yet, it's coupled with a choice of roles/films that seems to be idiotically random. I mean, we have intense and well-done things like Leaving Las Vegas, Adaptation, and Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans, but also embarrassing money-grubbing like the National Treasure films. We have to stand in awe of his genius-quirky performances in things like Raising Arizona, Wild at Heart, or Kiss of the Vampire. I don't even fault him for mis-steps like Ghost Rider, explained by his honest love for comic books, or high-caliber trash like Con Air or The Rock, everybody wants to make fun movies from time to time. However, no amount of any sort of re-evaluation will ever explain saying yes to that Wicker Man re-make, and when the script or the production fails, then all of his gooney-bird oddness just seems indulgent and ridiculous.
So, here's the rub...Is Nicolas Cage an actor to be admired or not?
Wow, you're good with the imdb, aren't you? Either that or you seem to have a bit of an unhealthy obsession with Mr. Cage. Who himself has plenty of unhealthy obsessions, so maybe it is appropriate to make him the focal point of one. Well done, M.P. Well done.
(Side note: whenever I address you as M.P., my first thought is, "Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North," which exposes one of my own unhealthy obsessions, but it also makes me smile, so thanks for that.)
But the question is whether or not he is an actor to be admired and I don't know that I can answer that satisfactorily without knowing more about who is doing the admiring and what sorts of things that person tends to look for in an actor to whom they would like to look up. If one tends to look up to actors who do silly things with their hair (both on top of and on the front of their heads), then yes, by all means. Admire Mr. Cage for his mullets, his sideburns, and his Shaggy and Scrappy-Dos. If one tends to admire actors who make intelligent career choices, however, one would not be faulted for letting one's admiration expire about ten years ago, right about the time of "Face/Off." Though if one is like me and tends to admire just about any actor who can manage to get consistent work*, then yes, admire the bejesus out of him.
In regard to his actual acting talent, I can't say because I haven't worked with him. They always say that an editor can edit together a great performance for anyone (I'd love to hear Jessica Alba's thoughts on editors), so I don't know if he's able to reach those emotional depths easily or if it takes 30 takes or if he just phones it in but manages to make it look good or if once he reaches that place, it takes him the rest of the shoot to recover from it. I can't really comment on his style because I haven't worked with him. I would be more than willing to give it a shot, though. *cough, cough* If he's looking for a costar *cough, cough* I could probably be available. *cough, cough* I'm just sayin'.
So I guess what I'm saying is, it all depends. If you like the quirky guy with the crazy hair who portrayed great characters who made us all laugh and cry and feel things, then yes, go ahead and admire him. If you admire the guy who made it past the indie film scene where he probably had to provide his own shoes to the world of the blockbuster movie that launched his name around the world so there probably isn't anywhere he can go now where people don't recognize him, go ahead and admire him. Or maybe it should be one of those, "Do you prefer early Nic Cage work or late Nic Cage work?" questions like people ask about the Beatles. Who Mr. Cage is also kind of obsessed with.
Full circle! Yay me!
*This is not an entirely true statement, but rather an exercise in hyperbole and a little dig at myself for my current career status. Carry on.
Thank you, M.P., for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
I find myself sitting here watching a video entitled "Nic Cage loses his shit," which consists of edits from all manner of films he's appeared in, having full-on freak outs. It got me thinking. We have here an actor who's undeniably brave, and willing to go to any extreme the character suggests to him. It's a level of skill and commitment that cannot be undervalued.Yet, it's coupled with a choice of roles/films that seems to be idiotically random. I mean, we have intense and well-done things like Leaving Las Vegas, Adaptation, and Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans, but also embarrassing money-grubbing like the National Treasure films. We have to stand in awe of his genius-quirky performances in things like Raising Arizona, Wild at Heart, or Kiss of the Vampire. I don't even fault him for mis-steps like Ghost Rider, explained by his honest love for comic books, or high-caliber trash like Con Air or The Rock, everybody wants to make fun movies from time to time. However, no amount of any sort of re-evaluation will ever explain saying yes to that Wicker Man re-make, and when the script or the production fails, then all of his gooney-bird oddness just seems indulgent and ridiculous.
So, here's the rub...Is Nicolas Cage an actor to be admired or not?
Wow, you're good with the imdb, aren't you? Either that or you seem to have a bit of an unhealthy obsession with Mr. Cage. Who himself has plenty of unhealthy obsessions, so maybe it is appropriate to make him the focal point of one. Well done, M.P. Well done.
(Side note: whenever I address you as M.P., my first thought is, "Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North," which exposes one of my own unhealthy obsessions, but it also makes me smile, so thanks for that.)
But the question is whether or not he is an actor to be admired and I don't know that I can answer that satisfactorily without knowing more about who is doing the admiring and what sorts of things that person tends to look for in an actor to whom they would like to look up. If one tends to look up to actors who do silly things with their hair (both on top of and on the front of their heads), then yes, by all means. Admire Mr. Cage for his mullets, his sideburns, and his Shaggy and Scrappy-Dos. If one tends to admire actors who make intelligent career choices, however, one would not be faulted for letting one's admiration expire about ten years ago, right about the time of "Face/Off." Though if one is like me and tends to admire just about any actor who can manage to get consistent work*, then yes, admire the bejesus out of him.
In regard to his actual acting talent, I can't say because I haven't worked with him. They always say that an editor can edit together a great performance for anyone (I'd love to hear Jessica Alba's thoughts on editors), so I don't know if he's able to reach those emotional depths easily or if it takes 30 takes or if he just phones it in but manages to make it look good or if once he reaches that place, it takes him the rest of the shoot to recover from it. I can't really comment on his style because I haven't worked with him. I would be more than willing to give it a shot, though. *cough, cough* If he's looking for a costar *cough, cough* I could probably be available. *cough, cough* I'm just sayin'.
So I guess what I'm saying is, it all depends. If you like the quirky guy with the crazy hair who portrayed great characters who made us all laugh and cry and feel things, then yes, go ahead and admire him. If you admire the guy who made it past the indie film scene where he probably had to provide his own shoes to the world of the blockbuster movie that launched his name around the world so there probably isn't anywhere he can go now where people don't recognize him, go ahead and admire him. Or maybe it should be one of those, "Do you prefer early Nic Cage work or late Nic Cage work?" questions like people ask about the Beatles. Who Mr. Cage is also kind of obsessed with.
Full circle! Yay me!
*This is not an entirely true statement, but rather an exercise in hyperbole and a little dig at myself for my current career status. Carry on.
Thank you, M.P., for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
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