Warnings have been sounded for several years now about how parents in developing countries such as China and India are aborting female fetuses or killing female infants in large enough numbers to affect the ratio of men to women in the population. In societies where sons traditionally care for their elderly parents and provide a source of future revenue and social security, women are seen as a liability, especially in China, where the number of children you can have is already highly regulated.
Today's NYT highlights a city in China that is prohibiting abortions after the 14th week to stop the trend of selective-sex abortions. While eliminating females is disturbing for a multitude of reasons, I'm mixed about what effect it will have. In one respect, imagining a world where women are scarce and men are plentiful may work to evalute women's status as they become a valuable commodity. On the other hand, seeing how much of the world's violence and crime is committed by men, nations with excesses of sexually frustrated men who can't find mates (and who may not live in societies where same-sex relationships are acceptable) sounds pretty scary. Sadly, the best career for women in those areas might be prostitutes - already the highest paying work most women can find. But maybe there will be in increase in immigration away from those areas, and upswing in mail-order brides . . . who knows?
The NYT ran a great piece today discussing the revival of 80s music. I think this quote sums up my generation perfectly:
"The 80's nostalgia boom is real, but it's not broad," said Michael Hirschorn, executive vice president of programming for VH1. "It doesn't apply to everything and not in all ways. It applies to a specific kind of Gen X, self-mocking, slightly ironic thing. For this group of people, you can't give them straight nostalgia of the sort of baby- boomer, "everything was wonderful and great when we were kids" feel. People Gen X and younger know that things weren't that great. We never thought that Motley Crue was saving the world. We identify with them passionately, but with a certain wink."
It's so true. Where did we get that sense that things really sucked and thus you can only enjoy something ironically - is it because we learned at an early age to see through all the manufactured slop (like Motley Crue) that was shoved at us? We learned that things were not truly authentic? Does Generation Y understand that too?
That's just so the next time someone searches for that phrase, it shows up in Google. (Oh, I mean, Yahoo!)
For that matter: harpsichord laundry dingle dangle snow bat!
I was randomly chosen recently by someone at Tribe (who didn't know I'd worked with them when they first launched) to read a review I'd written of Lucky 13 at their Winterfest party last Thursday. Since the party was a celebration of the posting of the 10,000th Bay Area review on Tribe, they decided to have a little competition, getting five of us to get onstage and read, competing for a $100 Amazon gift certificate.
Textbooks ain't cheap, so I was game. I figured I might have a decent shot if I dressed for the occasion, so I put together a good SF costume: purple velvet dress, black boots, red boa-like scarf, and a big, fuzzy, leopard-print hat. As one guy commented to me at the party, "Honey, you got it going ON! You are sooooooo San Franciscooooo!" After meeting my competition, I was decently confident - no one looked as outrageous as me, so if I could minimally sound engaging, I might nail it.
Heh. Of the first four of us that went, I figure I had a good chance. The people who weren't wedged back by the bar guzzling free drinks laughed at my review, at least. Then Spidra got on stage.
On the surface, Spidra didn't look remarkable - she was dressed very casually, and seemed pretty normal. But then I noticed she had two helpers, male and female, who were helping her lay a blue tarp out on stage behind the microphone. She positioned herself on the center, with a helper on either side. And then she began her review of the Danville Bakery.
Except she didn't read it - she sang it, in a jazzy way that reminded me of how Ella Fitzgerald begins "Anything Goes" ("Tiiiiiiimes have chaaaanged . . . ). And while she crooned, the assistants sprinkled flour on her head and rubbed Crisco on her face. And then she got on her knees and simulated fellatio, biting off (I think) pastries that were strategically placed over her assistants' genitalia.
As you can guess, Spidra won. And she deserved it. Truly an inspiring performance. Yet another reason why San Francisco is a whole lotta fun.
It's pre-spring in San Francisco. I left my house today in jeans and socks only to return to exchange them for capri pants and sandals. By late afternoon it was impossible to resist the lure of sunny Dolores Park, so out I went, lugging my reading along with me. It was a perfect seventy-something out, and I noticed that when the sun finally disappeared behind Twin Peaks it was much later than I expected. The long, warm days of summer are growing near . . . ahh, golden California.