The Lopsided Catholic Gene Pool

The Pope has flown the coop, leaving behind billions of commenters' words scattered like pigeon droppings on sidewalks and church aisles in D.C., NY and Philly, and millions of people who followed his every move in the US.  I'm one of those millions whose cabeza is filled with images and impressions from the hours I parked on the couch watching the wall-to-wall coverage.  

Overshadowing Il Papa's charming grin, his genuine tenderness for the unfortunate, his unfailing courtesy (even with personages like Dolan and fat cat contributors), his obvious and honest joy in meeting and touching ordinary people and babies dressed as mini-popes, is my impression of acres and acres of MEN. Men in clerical garb solemnly processing in and out, up, down and around aisles; men guarding and sheltering the Pope from all untoward contact;  men obviously "in charge" of everything (even though I'd bet my last nickel women organized and made it all happen behind the scenes as they do in every US parish); men glad-handing the Pope, so righteously full of themselves as masters of the Catholic universe.  

Except for an occasional sleek and stylish VIP's wife, a thimbleful of congressional representatives, a gaggle of habited nuns and those few, extraordinarily talented and token female cantors at various venues, the only women in evidence anywhere were among the crowd -- often shepherding children.  

Francis' only verbal references to women were a few kind words directed to religious sisters and "mothers."  

What a strange, sterilized, masculinized milieu this Pope (and every pope, from historical accounts) moves in.  

 Not even a shadow of femininity falls on this leader of the global Church if the hordes of male caretakers can help it.  Think of that and consider what a warped, twisted world it must be to encounter women only as servants or in positions of subservience -- never, ever, EVER as equals, for, in fact, there is no gender equality even possible within this ancient institution. 

All decisions made for and within the RCC are limited to the ordained -- and who can be considered for ordination?  Males only.  Apparently, the exalted XY chromosome carries the ontological requirement to perform the mysterious magic.  Women's XX chromosome is defective from the very instant of conception.  

Francis has sparked a bit of hope by calling for "a theology of women" and stating that women "should" be much more evident in the Church.  He has not, however, actually made that happen, short of a few minor appointments, and he has had ample opportunity to do so.  

After witnessing the preponderance of the XYs surrounding him this week, however, I am laying aside all my hopes for any kind of gender equality.  He is a product of his Italian/Latino cultural background as well as the all-male clerical culture in which he has lived for his lifetime.  Add that to the powerful presence of MEN that comprise his world, and the future is obvious.  Some things just never change. 

Now Every Day Is Saturday

In the past couple of months, I've inadvertently almost retired and accidentally almost closed my business.  I still have enough client work to be able to shop for name brands, but my 55-hour work week in 1994 has dwindled to about 12.5 currently.

I'm not complaining, mind you.  I've worked since I was 16 (part-time for my parents) and that's plenty of years for anyone.  Retirement is an odd and difficult transition to make, though, when one's life has been defined by work.

As a single mom of two back in the days before single parenthood was a normal and accepted state, and deadbeat dads weren't prosecuted, my job had to come first or my little family would have become a sad statistic.  I was audited by the IRS for deducting child care long before it was legal -- and won the case.  I spent far more hours at work than I did being a mom, but somehow the kids became successful adults and great parents themselves -- more than a minor miracle.  (Or maybe a statement that they did better without me micro-managing their every move -- teaching a kid independence isn't a bad thing.)

After battling and clawing my way up the corporate ladder (a woman in a strictly male industry, before equal rights was the law), I still had to be better than every other manager.  Okay, they were all men so it wasn't that hard...but still...it meant longer hours, far-less-than-equal pay and very few of the perks the male managers enjoyed.  (So what if I wouldn't have played golf, rafted down the Rogue River or vomited breakfast vodka on a deep-sea fishing trip -- I still wanted to be invited!)  The day I resigned, threw my company car keys on the controller's desk and walked home was the third best day of my life.  Seriously.

Starting a new business in a new profession with new skills but no experience and no potential clients was NOT a piece of cake -- but within a month of initial marketing, there I was -- truly "in business" for myself -- the fourth best day of my life, especially since I worked from home in my jammies.  That was 17 years ago and my original client is my one remaining client -- the rest were given governmental incentives to convert to mandatory new technology.  Thanks, American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009.  My own taxes paid to eliminate my own business -- oh, the irony.

I now have to make a real adjustment in letting go of my overactive, compulsive, pain-in-my-ass work ethic in favor of trying to transition to retirement.  There's very little real advice online in doing this.  The "advice" columns are so basic and contain such obvious and banal ideas that "duh!" is the only possible response.  "Learn how to budget your reduced income."  "Volunteer your time."  "Garden."  "Exercise."  "Spend time with grandchildren."  "Read."  "Start a hobby."  "Take a class."  "Travel."

DUH!  Thanks, anyway -- I was looking for something a little meatier -- like, how not to be seduced by trashy daytime TV, or how to make the kitchen literally disappear except at regular mealtimes, or what do you do with all these empty hours if you hate to shop, or how to avoid the constant temptation to add to your Kindle collection, or how not to go blind reading blogs all day, or how do you squeeze another trip to France from a non-existent vacation fund?  You know, the really important retirement issues.

As I said, though, I'm not complaining.  In fact, I LOVE:

• Having time to write without checking the clock every 15 minutes.
• Having time to actually market what I write.
• Having time enough to do everything that must be done in my life, with a lot left over to just do nothing. 
• NEVER having to answer the damn phone for work.
• Cheering the day I unplugged and packed away my fax and discarded very old computers and software manuals. 
• Having time to actually learn how to use my cell phone
• Knowing I'll pay only itsy bitsy taxes on teeny tiny business income.  

 And the best part -- since I no longer have to structure my day and week around work commitments. every day is Saturday, except, of course, Thursday (trash day) and Sunday (church day).

The Vajayjay Factor

(If you don't understand the term 'vajayjay', you are not getting your minimum daily requirement of Oprah.)

The talking heads are still talking about Sarah Palin's desirability and potential risk/benefit to the GOP ticket. It obviously took most everyone by surprise, particularly since other, more prominent, names had been chewier media fodder before the long-anticipated announcement.

From the PowerLine blog, here is a comment made just weeks before by McCain regarding his choice and what qualifications he/she might have. Here is another post, also from PowerLine, talking about overestimating "the gender issue" and overlooking Palin's true qualifications.

She's a new face to me, and this post isn't about Palin-the-person's place on the ticket. She may be the greatest thing since smoked Alaska salmon and may even give the Republicans a winner against Hillary in four or eight years, according to AWCF (a wise conservative friend).

What struck me today is the probability that, yeah, she was chosen on the basis of gender and, glass ceiling or not, it pisses me off.

We've all watched The West Wing, so we all know that the candidates don't act alone, particularly in a choice this important and particularly when the opponent is even or a bit ahead in the polls. Smoke-filled room or not, it was a decision made with advice, and it's those conversations that I find irritating and demeaning.

Hillary's 18,000,000 primary votes are not insignificant -- and certainly, many of those were sincere "I Love Hillary" votes. Possibly many were cast for her just because she's a woman. Certainly, many were against the GOP because of Bush's presidency; many were cast by die-hard Democrats whose hand would wither and die should they pull the lever for any but a Democrat; many were pro-Democrat but anti-Obama -- for whatever reason. We'll never know all the reasons, and it's certainly moot at this point.

But, in making the recommendation and decision about Palin's candidacy, also certainly some of the discussion was, "Yeah, wow, 18,000,000 votes for Hillary. We need a woman. We really need a woman. Find us a woman - now."

Why isn't the discussion and decision, "This is the best qualified human. This human has foreign policy, economics, military, political and executive experience -- what a great addition to the ticket."

According to USAtrivia.com, nine times in our history the office of President has been assumed by the VP. It's happened three times since 1945, which makes any VP a heartbeat, a resignation or an impeachment away from the Oval, which makes the VP office itself more than a nice photo op and address. It also makes the selection of the candidate for that office pretty damn critical -- way beyond the vajayjay factor.

If Palin was chosen as McCain's running mate because she has ALL the qualities necessary to become President should there be a fateful event or crisis, and also because she can energize the conservative base and bring some youth and vigor to an old man's campaign, well, great... nice to meet you, Sarah. Good luck, and by the way, nice caboose.

If, however, she made the ticket primarily because of her gender, I see that as an insulting act of condescension toward all women voters. It's every bit as bad (and exactly the same) as Democrat politicos assuming that because a voter is African-American, he/she will be voting for Obama.

I fought the good fight for women's liberation in the 70's (written about here), and if any woman in America is thrilled that "a woman" is on a Presidential ballot, even in the second slot, I would be that woman.... but NOT if she were chosen because of the vajayjay factor.

I was going to post a long harangue about the process by which the VP is selected -- through choice, not through votes, but this post has done it for me.

Maybe it's time to stop voting for "a unit of presidency" and vote for each separately.
Maybe it's time to take out the race/religion/color/penis/vajayjay factors, too.

Every time I consider our four candidates I stick my thumb in my mouth and try to console myself with this thought: Despite Bush and all that he has wrought, maybe, just maybe the person who sits in the comfy chair in the Oval Office doesn't matter all that much. Maybe. Hopefully.
.
.

"For Richer, For Richer"

Would you would spend 1.25 million bucks on a single event that will take a year to plan and offer a mere six hours of enjoyment?

Would you shell out:

• $12,500 for a cake?
• $100,000 for a dinner for 150 people?
  
• $60,000 for music?
  
• $45,000 for posies flown in from Thailand, Ecuador, Israel and Holland?
  
• How about $47,000 for the venue,
  
• $15,000 for lighting and another
  
• 15K for table linens?
  
• $135,000 for jewelry.........
• or $18,000 for a dress -- no, wait -- that's $18,000 for the first dress and $5,000 for a dress to be worn later.

It's conspicuous consumption raised to an absurd level -- it's WEtv's "Platinum Weddings." Their website boasts: "No wish is too extravagant for these blushing brides. Platinum Weddings brings you the breathtaking design and irresistible romance of these over the top weddings."

These aren't the weddings of Hollywood superstars or uber-rich ball players. These are, for the most part, perky little Barbies with very wealthy families who either can't tell Barbie NO or don't mind that they're spending more in one day than most of us will have for our retirements. The brides' occupations range from former NFL cheerleader to student to national sales manager, and the majority of the weddings are bankrolled by the bride's mommy and daddy, as tradition dictates.

In the website's current episode profiles, the wedding budgets range from a paltry $150,000 (the cheapskates) to well over $1,250,000, with most of the events costing around $500,000. A four-day Indian celebration understandably topped the list, but still their single actual wedding day's budget was $300,000.

The show is filmed as a glamorous documentary, with snippets of commentary by the wedding planner, bride, groom and check writer. The most often heard phrase (besides "I want") is "fairy tale wedding," with "I feel just like a princess" running second, "the wow factor" coming in third, and "something different that our guests will always remember" trailing the pack as Miss Congeniality.

The all-American super-rich girl's wedding is apparently a pocket of our culture not yet conquered by the feministas -- "princess for six hours" can't be the 21st century archetype for the women's movement, can it? When planning their dream day, it certainly looks like Walt Disney's Princesses have made more of an impact on young womanhood than Steinem's gang.

My first wedding (no guests) cost about $35 and was memorable for the groom's unzipped fly and the fact that his best man was a woman. Both my sons had fairly large but tightly-budgeted weddings, and my financial responsibilities as mother of the grooms were minimal, thank God. I know what small, medium and large weddings usually cost (the current average in the US ranges between $19,000-50,000) -- but these Platinum Weddings have overshot that mark by a factor of ten.

Each hubba hubba Platinum Wedding's design is conceived and coordinated by at least one wedding planner -- sometimes two or three working in concert to cover various aspects of the day. According to online research, wedding planners charge either an hourly rate, a flat fee or a percentage (10-20%) of the total cost of the event. I'd bet my cake top mouldering in my freezer that these planners are working on the percentage. Even as math challenged as I am, it looks like they're banking 150-200K from this one precious couple alone.

The actual marriage ceremony seems almost like an afterthought, except, of course, for the dramatic entry by horse and carriage, helicopter or golf cart. By far, the bulk of the day's expense is for the reception -- which will include a cocktail hour (often 100K) and an "after party" for the younger crowd to get down and boogie. Signature cocktails, martini luges and gourmet food are all expected, of course, with the demise of hundreds of lobsters, shrimp and various ages of cow.

The events truly are lavishly, stunningly beautiful -- but the sheer excess of each and every choice (and there are thousands of "choices" to be made) seems inordinately extravagant when you consider it's all over in incredibly short time. Wait -- that's what they pay the photographer and videographer $60,000 for, isn't it... to record every minute of the brief afternoon or evening.

To be honest, I love this ultra-girlie show. It's fun to see the exotic flower arrangements, the designer gowns, the sugar-sculptured cakes, the transformation of a ho-hum venue into fairyland, and it's easy to believe in "happily ever after" when your send-off is a million-dollar party. These weddings dump a whole buncha money into the local economy, and that's always a good thing. Even though the old saying "if you've got it, flaunt it" seems to be each bride's family's mantra, they all look as though they're having one helluva good time. At least I HOPE they're having a good time, at that price.

One thing I did notice, though... each Platinum bride just happens to be well-educated, thin and beautiful -- as well as rich. These must be the primary requirements for becoming a million-dollar princess for a day. Their chubbier, less attractive, far less affluent Springeresque sisters (and their tobacco-chewin', pickup-truck drivin', morbidly obese grooms) are featured on another WEtv show -- Bridezillas! You're on your own to research and review this one... it's way too much for me!

Liberation or Enslavement - One Perspective

I think I was the first of the "women libbers" -- even before Gloria Steinem and friends altered the spin of the Earth.

As a very young child I never understood why my dad went to work six days a week and my mom didn't. She spent most of her time reading, writing letters, riding herd on the housekeeper and running out to movie matinees. It simply did not make sense to me that women didn't have to "go to work," and I vowed at age eight that I would never live a life similar to my mom's, which I saw even then as boring and empty.

I know, I know.... stay-at-home moms generally work their fannies off, and they're doing arguably the most important job on the planet. Don't get your undies in a twist -- read on - I'm certainly not attacking that concept.

I grew up in the very black-and-white era of the Eisenhower and early Kennedy years, before the radical 60's took hold. There was a stigma attached to working moms when I was a kid, and it wasn't just in my own little narrow world. "Good moms" were homemakers, pie makers, baby makers and loving wives. "Bad moms" were often divorced and working out in the world, with not nearly enough time for their kids. "Bad kids" very often came from these broken homes with a working mom. Very cliche, but in those times and in some limited ways, also regrettably true.

But, even in that culture and as young as I was, it still didn't seem right that my mom had what I perceived as a free ride. I just didn't "get" it. Of course women should work too -- why not?

As soon as I had finished school and started my first job, the workplace inequities of that particular time made even less sense to me. "The bosses" were, of course, nearly all men -- the worker bees all women. The term 'sexual harassment' had yet to be coined, but the concept was certainly one most young women were familiar with. It was simply a fact of life -- as routine as the disparity in responsibilities, opportunities, wages and benefits.

I don't remember if there was a single inciting occurrence that pushed my consciousness across the feminist event horizon, but at some point in the 1970's I realized I wasn't alone in my anger and frustration with the male-dominated business world. I realized the power and empowerment of other like-minded women.

My job in the retail lumber industry couldn't have been a more macho setting, nor could the company have been more closed-minded to women's advancement and success. Every step up the ladder was a battle, and my threats to resign often echoed off the walls. I even developed what I termed my "pee pee philosophy," which stated simply that a penis was an obvious requirement for the title of manager, the annual bonus, use of a company car and a reserved spot on the summer deep sea fishing trip... no matter the qualifications and experience of the person with a pee pee deficit.

I made so much noise at just the right time (when militant feminism rocked corporate America and important legislation loomed) that I eventually became the first manager in the company's history, with all the incumbent perks. (OK, I get seasick, so I passed on the fishing trip, but I at least had the pleasure of at last refusing that particular invitation.)

So what's the point, besides a trip down nostalgia lane? The point is -- I wonder now if I, if all of us who fought that war and kicked our way through the glass ceiling were, in the end, right.

Of course a woman should be paid the same as a man for the same responsibilities. Of course women should have the right to pursue whatever career appeals to her. Of course educational and advancement opportunities should never be limited by gender. What I'm questioning is the wisdom of our choices in light of where women stand today.

Scratch a married working mom and you'll find a frazzled, harried woman with more stress than she's ever had before. She not only has the pressures of an increasingly demanding career, but in the majority of homes she is also the master scheduler and CEO. Dad is certainly more involved with the family than in previous generations, but it's mom who's putting it all together.

Check out single-parent families and the majority are households with mom at the helm, doing everything on her own with little or no help from anyone. This may not have changed much as there have always been women who have had to support their families -- but the sheer number of those women is greater than at any time in our history, by choice or by chance, and the weight of both career and family life has increased exponentially.

It's impossible to find meaningful statistics on the physical, emotional and mental health of working women today. For every study "proving" a negative impact of the combined responsibilities of a career and family there is another study "proving" that women working outside the home are actually healthier and more fulfilled.

For every study of the negative impact of this situation on children there are other studies showing a rise in independence and achievement of these same kids.

We've recently been told that the divorce rate is down considerably -- (but then, so is the marriage rate.) I'm crossing my fingers that the divorce statistic is credible as there is an abundance of long-term data documenting its deleterious effects on children. According to Minneapolis' Star Tribune columnist Katherine Kersten, "One recent study, for example, found that boys from an intact, married family are half as likely as others to end up in prison as young adults. According to another study, the single "most important explanatory variable" behind the three-fold rise in youth suicide over the last 50 years is the "increased share of youth living in homes with a divorced parent."

Trying to get a handle on what's really happening is similar to weighing the pros and cons of paper versus plastic bags in the store, or deciding if coffee and chocolate really do have health benefits. Each side of the issue can "prove" its particular viewpoint with a quagmire of questionable studies and statistics.

• Strictly from my own perspective, I see women in their late 30's, with well-established careers, just now starting their families...and with the gloomy prospect of using their Social Security checks to pay for their shoes to dance at those children's weddings.
• I see many women who would really prefer to stay home with their young children. Instead, they face years of unwanted employment just to finance a more lavish lifestyle.
• I see families so busy with over-planned lives that they rarely have any time to just be together, or just plain "be." Many kids have no idea what free time is, or what life might look like without a coach, a teacher, a uniform or car pool.
• I see families moving from one upscale home and neighborhood to another and yet another, each more expensive and financially draining, and who pay for that luxury with high-powered jobs.... and children wearing designer clothes who are schlepped to daycare.
• I see women certainly fulfilled in their careers and certainly fulfilled in their roles at home, but who bear a burden of stress that manifests in physical ailments and god knows what kind of mental and emotional pressure, taking god knows what kind of toll on their overindulged, over-scheduled kids.
• I see women who think they celebrate the choices they've made but who secretly long for a simpler life with closer ties to those most important to them.

I see what changes have occurred in the family landscape and in the lives of women and I wonder.... what did we early feminists really set in motion?

With the perspective of age and vantage of history I have to ask, how wise were we pioneers?