Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis ("Times change, and we change with them").

Friday, June 10, 2011

Media Gone Mad for Sarah

And Sarah Palin's emails are interesting to us because...because....um, why, again? Palin hasn't declared her candidacy for president as far as I know, and even if she had, what's with this disproportionate interest in (or obsession over) Sarah Palin? I don't see the media clamoring for Mitt Romney's or Tim Pawlenty's email correspondence, for instance. And what about newcomer Barack Obama back in '08? Scouring his personal emails would have been quite revealing. Oh, but wait. Wanting to know more about Obama might have been construed as racist. Besides, the media didn't need to know anything more about Barack Obama. It was enough that he was promising Shangri-la.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Question: What's Worse Than Sleazy, Lying Politicians...?

Answer: Sleazy, lying politicians who wag their fingers and scold the people who are trying to get them to tell the truth.

It's the finger-wagging that grates most. It was bad enough when Congressman Weiner feigned indignation when ABC news correspondents tried to get him to answer a simple question about why he wasn't planning on pressing charges against those who allegedly hacked his Twitter account and then insisted on talking about the issues "he was elected to discuss" (e.g., the debt ceiling). Round and round they went, with the reporters repeating their questions and Weiner getting more and more indignant. Yes, that was bad.

But I watched him in one video (now apparently removed from You Tube) actually scolding the ABC interviewer, Jonathan Karl, for asking whether it was "inappropriate for a member of Congress to be following young women on their Twitter account." Listening to this interview one day after Weiner's public admission that he lied for days about this issue, one can't help but be stunned at the ease with which this man not only lies but how he manipulates the story by attempting to humiliate, demean, and denigrate the reporter.

A few of the more odious examples:
"It is your responsibility, and I want you to take it seriously, when you ask a question like that, it is charged with implication, and it's simply not fair. It's not fair to me, it's not fair to my family, it's not fair to that poor girl who has now been besieged, because of the implication...
"And I would urge you, I would urge you, my friend, to refocus on what you think the actual issue is. This is a Twitter hoax, a prank, that was done. I am a victim of it, this poor girl is a victim of it. And to somehow draw a larger line here about people who have done nothing wrong..."
My. What a loathsome, arrogant, condescending, imperious, unprincipled man.

Some people felt sorry for him, standing there before the media yesterday, weepy and apologetic. Not me. I'm onto him. I know it's all an act. He's fighting for his political life. Sleazy men like him will do anything, including grovel, to keep from drowning.

Here's the issue as I see it. It's bad enough when an elected official (or anyone given the trust of leadership) gets seduced by power and becomes sexually and morally reprobate. Such behavior should not be tolerated, people of both political parties should be appalled when it happens, and not only to people of the "other" party.

But it's the lying--and more to the point, the effortlessness, the facility, the ease with which they lie--that's troubling to me. It's almost as if lying is second nature, this innate ability to distort, to blame, to accuse, and then to chide those who dare to ask. And we're seeing it more and more in political figures. We saw it in that Blagojevich person. We saw it in John Edwards. We're seeing it in Barack Obama, especially when reporters dare to ask him "tough" questions. He gets all defensive and prickly and tries to make the issue about the questions, the questioners, the implications behind the questions. He's very good at it. Maybe not as good as Weiner, but pretty good.

This is not a good thing.

I've never trusted a smooth talker. Me, I prefer the bungler, if he's honest, to the glib, the verbally dexterous, the artful dodger.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Helicopter Parent? Yes, I'm Guilty.

Article in today's Los Angeles Times (Home section) by Mary MacVean examining the way today's parents are more connected (perhaps too connected) with their college students than is necessary or even healthy. She writes that going to college today means "never having to say good-bye," and adds, "Researchers are looking at how new technology may be delaying the point at which college-bound students truly become independent from their parents, and how phenomena such as the introduction of unlimited calling plans have changed the nature of parent-child relationships, and not always for the better."

Lots of stories in this article illustrating varying degrees of "communication" ranging from benign to excessive (though I suppose what I consider benign might be viewed as excessive, especially by those researchers).

Example of what I think is benign (and by benign I mean something I might do):
Katie Bent, a sophomore, calls home to Seattle weekly. "For me, I would love to be in contact with my parents very frequently, but I also feel like this is the time I'm supposed to be learning how to function without them," she said. "So last semester I completely destroyed my glasses at one point. That probably would have been a perfect time to deal with it, to find an optometrist in the area. What I did was call my mom, and said, 'Oh my God, Mom. What am I going to do?" Mom found an optometrist.
Of course Katie's mom found her daughter an optometrist! Like Katie's going to know where to go, whether or not the optometrist is on their insurance plan, how much she might be charged, what's reasonable, what's not. These are financial issues that students aren't necessarily engaged in at this time of life. Lots of kids are still on their parents' insurance plans, so it would make sense, in my view, to help my kid out at this point.

And yes, I'm guilty of doing the same thing. For example, I spent about 30 minutes searching for a dentist for my college-aged son in the nearby environs where he's living this summer. Could he have done this himself? Yes, of course, he's in college, for heaven's sake. Would he have done this himself? Probably not. He's in college, for heaven's sake (like he's really going to make an appointment to see the dentist?). Should I be micromanaging his oral health issues? Probably not. But I justify it for a couple of reasons: first, I have more time on my hands, and second, if my investment of 30 minutes results in my son making an appointment to get his teeth cleaned, it's worth it.

Examples of excessive parental involvement?
  • There's the story of one student named Grace who was doing a semester abroad at Oxford. "She had trouble getting permission to check books out of the library. The problem wasn't getting solved, so [the dad] emailed the foreign study office himself. When he heard from Grace, the message was, 'I'll kill you if you do that again.'"
  • One student named Jamie says she gets a text from her mom every night, saying good night.
  • Researchers who surveyed students at Middlebury in Vermont and the University of Michigan learned that on average students and their parents were in contact about 13 times per week. 
That last item, about being in contact 13 times a week...OK, well, maybe I'm guilty again. I admit, I send my kids emails that might be newsy ("cell phones may cause brain cancer!") or personal ("tried a nice recipe with organic beets!"), or micromanagerial ("did you make an appointment for the dentist?").

Is there something wrong with all this? At some level, I guess there is. I mean, one has to ask oneself, at what point does one stop thinking about one's kids and start living one's life? I can't imagine, for instance, that my 87-year old father is wondering what I'm doing today, and if I'm maintaining good oral hygiene. At a certain point in life, he and my mom managed to let us kids go. The question is, did that "point" take place too soon, and to my personal detriment? Would I have turned out better, for instance, if my parents had been more involved in my transition from adolescence to adulthood? Back then, in the 70's and 80's, the thinking was to not be intrusive, to let kids make their own decisions (not to mention their own mistakes). I have very little memory of my parents being involved, for instance, in decisions relating to college. If anything, they were hands off to a fault.

How did that work out for me? After about two and a half years dabbling in course work at a local community college while working part-time as a waitress somewhere before finally, at around age 22, transferring to a 4-year college and getting my bachelors degree at age 24, and then, two years later, my masters, it turned out fine, but it was a circuitous and somewhat tumultuous path filled with unnecessary detours. And there are enough "W's" on my early college transcripts to indicate that I had no idea what I was doing.

Did I learn from my mistakes? Am I a better person because I made bad choices but then recovered nicely? Or did I fritter away the "best years" of my life? If my parents had hovered over me during my junior and senior years of high school, steered me towards more rigorous course work, pushed me to apply for scholarships, challenged me to stick with my musical training, stayed in touch with me when I was drifting (no cell phones, back then, let alone email, Skype, Facebook), where might I be today? Sometimes I think about all the untapped potential that was squandered simply because there was no one hovering nearby, shouting directions in my ear.

So yes, my husband I did things differently. We challenged and prodded and pushed and steered our three kids through high school and on through college. And yes, we do stay in touch with our adult kids. Guilty as charged. But I can't imagine doing it differently.

Today I got a call from my son, who recently finished his junior year at an Ivy League school and is currently working a summer job back east. He's living temporarily in the locker room before his summer housing becomes available, and not having had lunch yet (he gets cranky when he doesn't eat), he was venting about how much money he's spending on food, how he's always hungry, how the food he's eating isn't good (i.e., healthy)...

Always hungry? Not eating good food? What? I'm all over this...

Thirty minutes later I texted him: "Check your email....I found out there's a Whole Foods within two miles of you!"

I even sent him directions from Google maps.


"The Bond: Staying in Touch When Children Go to College"