I Fear Silence... Can I Get a Grade on this Assignment?

Circa 1996, I was having a conversation with my dear old friend, Val, in which I said totally matter of factly, "I fear silence." And I do, dear reader. I cannot tolerate a lull in conversation. What is certainly a workaday banality for most of all the other people in the world is, to me, as though someone is pounding a nail into my head with a violent hammer of awkward silence.

And so, over the course of 40ish years, I've mastered the art of conversation. You understand, of course, that by "mastered", I mean "capable of filling the briefest conversational lull with desperate, panicked chit chat."

I am far more exhausted by this than exhausting.

I think.

Tonight I had a work dinner with some folks I don't know who work for the company that acquired us and I had hoped to be professionally impressive. I wore lipstick, for Christ's sake! I put product into my hair! As I walked in to the restaurant, I noticed that everyone was sitting around the table in unbearable silence, which was probably only because they stopped the conversation as I walked in to greet me and had been chatting comfortably up until then. But I couldn't risk it! I had to start GABBING AT EVERYONE!!!

Chat chat "and how did you end up in this town?" chat chat "how old are your kids?" chat chat "what a dreadful commute" chat chat chatterly chat chat chat chattity chat chat chat fucking chat.

I have no idea if the folks I work with are glad to have me around because I'll bear more than my fair share of the conversational load or if they are thinking "dear god, would she just shut the everloving fuck up?!"

Maybe both?

If I weren't so terrified of awkward silence, then I could sit there and take the temperature of the dinner table. But then it would be quiet and everyone would be looking around and, dear god, why don't we all just put a goddamn bullet in our heads! SOMEONE HAS TO TALK NOW!!!

I'm so tired.

Did I talk too much tonight?

By the way, I'm great in text. Why can't we all just text?

Getting Woke F'n Sucks, You Guys

First of all, I think we can all agree that the expression "woke" had jumped the shark almost as hard as the phrase "jumped the shark" has jumped the shark. But it's been a busy weekend and I'm trying to get some stuff done before Outlander o'clock (the sexiest hour of the week!) and one of those things is that I'm trying real hard to do is to update this silly blog more as I have all of the thoughts and none of the energy and I must needs get the thoughts out of the head.

So. I was driving down the street a few days ago and Led Zepplin's "Whole Lotta Love" came on and I was jamming out and singing along when it occurred to me that this song was written by Muddy Waters. Led Zeppelin fans would probably say this was more homage than rip off, but how much classic rock was just white guys ripping off black artists? How much did classic rock profit off music that didn't belong to its artists? How much did classic rock fail to give credit where it belonged?

And let's not even get started on Elvis. Or how very many people really think that Rapture by Blondie was the first rap song.

This is really apropos of nothing - I just think she's so fabulous even if she didn't, sigh, invent rap

Another thing: I was, as I am prone to, fondly remembering a moment with my dear, departed father. My brother and I were in high school (Nolan may have been in the early days of college) and my dad told us this story about an econ class he took in college where the professor talked about how women controlled 43% of the wealth in the country. And then my dad laughed and said "but they control 100% of the pussy."

When I was 16 or so I thought it was hilarious. There was my dad saying "pussy" and engaging us in some adult humor.

But 32 years later it occurs to me that my wonderful father, my dear, sweet hilarious father was wasn't at all sexist and who always encouraged me in the same way he did my brother and who was so far ahead of his time in so many ways, was still OK with looking at "pussy" as a commodity separate from the woman it's attached to.

And I know - it was a joke. And I know, Robert Plant revered Muddy Waters. I know! I know! I know!

But then I start to think of all the movies from my teenage years. How many girls my own age got raped on film and I laughed and laughed?

What do we do with all this wokeness (I hate myself for the phrase, I really do). Do we have to throw away all the things we loved? Do I need to castigate my father from beyond the grave for his minor infractions?

The answer: no. Of course not. That's dumb.

The answer: you acknowledge the foibles and sins of the past, admit that "it was a different time" is inadequate. And then keep your eyes and ears open, listen to people and believe their experiences,  and always try to be better.

I pretty much think the purpose of life is to always be trying to be better. And to be woke.

Seriously, you guys, what is a less obnoxious word? Help me out...

Quick Lunchtime Bloggity

It's been a while since I did one of these, but I just had the strangest experience out walking Ginger so I'm gonna tell you about it.

I walked past this fellow in a tight white tee-shirt and a bald head looking pretty much like the poster child for the Aryan Nation.  He was staring at his phone waiting for someone to let him into a building. Ginger barked at him.

He responded "fuck you!"

I had just started a laughing apology and then he said "fuck you!" so I decided best to walk on.

Here's the thing, though: he wasn't saying "fuck you" to me. He was saying "fuck you" to Ginger, who is a 20 pound beagle who knows only the following words in English: Ginger, hungry, walkies, go pee, and no. So Ginger didn't care. "Fuck you" is not in her vernacular (although, if I'm being honest "Goddammit, Ginger!" may be) She was focused on the post-poop treat coming her way ("Treat" is another word she knows. She may be a genius!)

And it wasn't even like he got mad and then said "fuck you." He just kind of .... sneezed it.  He was startled and his instant reaction to being startled was "fuck you."

It may be that Ginger, who is not prone to barking at strangers on the sidewalk, is just a really good job of character and Breitbart fan there knew she had his number. Hence: "fuck you."

Far more likely, though, he's just a guy with a passel of "fuck you"s rattling around in his psyche; "fuck you"s he deploys carelessly, without regard for the target, utterly unbothered by the offense.

Does anyone know of an island where we can send all the unreasonably angry white men? They are really fucking things up these days.

I Don't Want to Do This Either

I was listening to the Pod Save guys recently and they were talking about the blowback to NFL players taking a knee. They remarked that, of course, these players would rather just play football. It blew their minds how many people failed to understand that had any NFL player their druthers, black men wouldn't be so vulnerable to police violence and then they could just play some football (that's a lot of hyperlinks there, right? Do you see why they're kneeling?)

We'd all really rather just go on about our lives, wouldn't we? Calling people on their shit is a lot harder, a lot less fun, than just ignoring it or, magically, living in a place where you're not subjected to other people's shit.

Which is all to say: I don't want to do this either. I don't want to be the one telling you to stop calling the grown-ass women you work with "girls." I don't want to do that. I really wish you'd just, you know, not. But you do. And so many of you not only don't bother to interrogate how inherently demeaning this is, you get your feelings hurt when you get called on it.

(oh those delicate male feelings... you guys... ovary up!)

And I don't want to tell you that Hugh Hefner's death hasn't earned anyone's lachrymose lamentation. He was a bad man who did bad things. I don't want to interrupt your enjoyment of a tasteful nude or two. But you look away from the women he turned into things and talk about the good stuff he did for men and it's shitty and gross and you need to stop.

I don't want to police all the ways you casually allow and excuse misogyny. It's exhausting. Oooh... gif time:

But ignoring it and moving past it? Guys, this how we ended up with Donald Fucking Trump and Mike Fucking Pence who are two very different men, joined in their virulent (if differently expressed) loathing of women.

Today Ezra Klein, whom I'd count as one of the good guys, tweeted this:

Guys, there's not a woman alive who's even mildly surprised by this story. Of course Weinstein was a pig. The upper echelons of American society are comprised almost exclusively of pigs.

Ezra, poor guy, took it on the Twitter chin today for that post. I felt a little bad for him because he's not a sexist. But it's just so frustrating how many men live in easy, willful obtuseness about how much shitty shitty shit there is out there for women.

So, ladies, we have to continue being exhausted and being exhausting. We have to keep pointing out the constant, casual, cavalier sexism that is our everyday life.  Most men are good men. They're just a little ignorant (maybe on purpose?), having been inculcated in a system that rewards and excuses misogyny. If we make them see this (which is so exhausting), then they'll get better.

And, men, join us. Listen to the women in your life. Don't make excuses based on male intentionality: your intentions don't exist in a vacuum. And, men, I've been saying this for years, when you're in the motherfucking metaphorical locker room, don't keep your trap shut when the real hateful shits spew their real hateful shit. You might think they just talk that way, but I'll guaran-damn-tee you they do some violence on the women around them. When men talk about women like that, they treat them like that too - just not in front of anyone they're afraid of or want to impress.

In short, we all have to be exhausting and exhausted.  These are exhausting times. God I'm tired.

This is a good idea. I'm gonna go watch Parks and Rec and then go to sleep. And tomorrow? I'll fight another day.