Thursday 24 February 2011

TAKE TO YOUR BED

I wanted to write about something today that delights me. I think we all know how many things out there disturb me, so why not end the week on a positive note.

My bed delights me. Wait, that sentence doesn’t do my feelings justice. My bed, and taking to my bed – as they say – is probably one of the things that drives me forward throughout my day…that and dark chocolate. At the moment that is fuel. But back to my bed…the thought that in so many hours, I can burrow like some 200 pound bear (depends how much I’ve eaten that day, sometimes I feel like a 300 pound bear) under the duvet, with my laptop all powered up and a cup of something warm in my hand, well, I tell you, that is pretty much my idea of bliss. In fact, I’m writing from bed right now. And moreover, I actually think the world would be a better place if more people worked from bed. Perhaps Congress would even get along if each member was swaddled up in some luxurious goose down while they casted their vote. It certainly couldn't hurt.

Before the King came along, my partner and I spent a lot of time in bed. Get your minds out of the gutter I’m not going there. We simply shared the love of our bed and thought that as much time spent there, especially on a Sunday, was time very well spent. [We’re both very hyper active, but we can both downshift into lazy sloths once in a while very happily]. So we’d turn our bed some sort of island in which food was allowed (only on big trays that did not allow for spills. I love my bed, but I still have OCD), books were to be read; TV shows were to be watched (the crappier the better) and okay fine, other extra curricular activities were welcomed as well. I’m not a total bore.

One New Years we even moved the bed into the living room. At that point we both acknowledged the fact that we were feeling old, the weather outside was appalling, and watching New Year’s coverage on TV beat riding our bikes down to the river trying to navigate through thousands of drunk people. The bed of course stayed in the living room for two days until I burst the happy bubble and insisted our lives – and living room – return to normal. Yes, these are things one can do when they’re single and kid free. If you are, take FULL advantage.

Now that the King is here the bed is ever more precious. Simply because my time spent in it has been cut in half. And trust me, I weep at the sight of it as I pass the bedroom door like we’re old lovers doomed to never meet again. Oh bed, god I miss you damn it. So of course, I’ve been trying to get the King to appreciate squirming about under the duvet. In the morning I kind of chuck him on Daddy’s head – seems like a better alarm clock than any other – where he does his best to pull his ears, smack his head and pat his father’s hair. I then insist we hang out as long as possible so he can fully appreciate how great life is from the bed island. Something tells me I have about fifteen years until he’s with me on this idea. And then of course it will be me yanking him from the most glorious place on earth, telling him to get a move on. Ah, sweet revenge.

Tuesday 22 February 2011

THE FUTURE IS SO DIM, YOU'VE GOT TO WEAR SHADES

I just love me a little uprising. In fact, I just finished watching the documentary ‘Inside Job,’ (if you haven’t seen it, watch it, but be warned, it will make you angry) and I almost started a revolution in our living room. The amount of corruption and greed out there perpetuated by the top one percent of our population at the expense of the rest of us is enough to make me storm Parliament – it’s much closer than the White House. Sadly, at the moment, I can barely storm into the next room thanks to the two new teeth coming through the King’s gums. So my revolution will have to wait a few months.

In light of the contagious revolt going on in North Africa over the past few weeks it seems that I am not the only one thinking that a massive uprising is long overdue; Needless to say, what has been going on has been horrific to witness; any bloodshed in the name of politics and freedom is a depressing part of the quest for liberation, but damn do you have to hand it to the people of those countries for their sheer conviction. I suppose I am surprised it took them this long; nothing like a little domino effect of revolution to inspire the oppressed. “Hey they did it, why can’t we?!” When you think about a country being ruled by the same ruler for decades upon decades, it suddenly dawns on you how lucky you are to be in a democracy – or some version of one. Let’s not kid ourselves.

And you just know that democratic leaders around the world are thinking to themselves – in private of course – "okay, we’re all for the whole elective government thing, but staying in power that long is pretty damn impressive. Intimidation, mass fear and oppression….damn, why didn’t I think of that first?!" Can’t you just see the wheels turning in George Bush’s head – “I just led a country into an unnecessary war, just think what I could’ve done if I had thirty years! I could've been King of the wooooorld!”

As for Gadhafi, is it me or in his latest speech to his country (and the world of course) did he resemble a more ethnic Obi Wan Kenobi with a little disco crazed lunatic thrown in? In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a leader work the monochromatic color scheme and expensive shades like that man does; Even Bono must be in awe of his collection. Must be a necessary accessory when one is sipping from the crazy pool and bringing genocide upon his own people.

It makes one wonder – or me anyway - how fine the line is between leader and dictator? Where is that mark in the sand that suddenly turns a man's self-belief and egotism into flat out delusions of psychotic grandeur? I bet we’re talking about millimeters. Give a man (or woman I suppose, but I doubt it; we're perfect :-) some power and a platform, and ensure that they can have that platform for as long as they want it, and you’re bound to have one out of control monster by the end of it.

One thing for sure, the King is never going into politics, that boy's will scares the heck out of me.

Sunday 20 February 2011

SKIN DEEP

Over here the media are having a go – as they say – at Beyoncé for apparently trying to become white, or betraying her roots, or some ridiculous enraging nonsense like that. Essentially because the entertainer (let’s focus on that word shall we) dyed her hair blond and her skin looks a bit lighter in the photograph that they are running in the papers, she is open season for a good lambasting. Oh yes, this is the stuff that makes my blood boil ladies and gentleman, along with…well the list is long and I don’t have that much time this morning as the King has slithered his way under the coffee table.

As someone with olive skin, who is married (for all intensive purposes) to someone with brown skin, and with extremely close relatives with black skin, I’m here to tell you that skin changes colors; no matter what color you started out with. For instance, in winter, my skin color changes to this lovely shade of pallid yellowish gray - it's pretty hot. Call it a seasonal shift, or just got back from holiday glow, or a heavy duty full wattage flash bulb on a paparazzi camera - and yes, one's skin can look a variety of different shades. But somehow I don’t think Beyoncé is having Jay-Z slather on the bleaching cream late at night. She’s just freezing her butt of in New York and her skin needs a nice yacht trip in the Bahamas, cause that’s how B and J roll.

More importantly, what does it say about society when a woman – and an entertainer who is known for her hair and outfit changes galore; yes there is that word again - can’t dye her hair without betraying her race? Seriously, has the media truly become this base and preposterous? Yep seems to be the only answer to this question. This whole argument that people often throw around has always incensed me, the he’s not black enough, or she’s trying to be black, or he’s trying to be white – or yellow, orange or green – enough with the color! You heard it a lot when Obama was running for office, the he’s too white and he’s alienating the black population. Why, exactly? Because any answer to that question is going to be downright offensive to his race. How about he’s simply an educated, well-spoken man and let’s leave it at that. And what exactly would make someone ‘enough’ to their race – do they tick all the stereotypical boxes? Do they talk, walk, sit, dress and fraternize the way society deems appropriate to the color of their skin?

As for Beyonce, she dyes her hair and wears nice clothes, and runs with a certain crowd because she CAN. It’s not a betrayal to anyone, it’s a confirmation that people of any color can do anything, with anyone, at anytime and money opens doors – especially to really nice hair salons that can turn your hair any darn color you want. There is no – or should be no – monopoly on who can do what based on their race. That’s the kind of thing that simply reinforces that human beings want to divide and segregate as opposed to bring together. So tomorrow I’m getting cornrows, eating sushi for breakfast, slapping on a bindi, & chanting like a dutiful Tibetan while I attend a monster truck rally. Just because I can. You have a problem with that?

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