2009 January » CoupleDumb

“Don’t Fuck With The Mouse!” as quoted from Harlan Ellison

Jan 282009

disney-mickey-mouse-58541 You’re wondering, “Why would anybody say anything negative about Disney?” If you are thinking this, stop drinking the Kool Aid and pay attention. Once again, don’t get us wrong. We love Disney. We love the movies and the parks. As parents, we have tithed the requisite 20% of our yearly income to all things Disney. But, at some point, we have to acknowledge that they have hijacked our culture. This smack-down is less about celebrity and more about how fame has given them the power to change the social fabric of our country. “Don’t fuck with the mouse?” Heh… Lube up Mickey. Here we go….

Lee’s comments: Let us begin with the Disney films. These were the only animated films we watched. These are all classics in their own right even without the Disney moniker plastered on them. Most of these stories were taken by classic tales already widely circulated and run through the imagination of the Disney machine. So what’s the big deal?

1. Disney films only portray women as hapless fools who can only depend on men or evil bitches. Go through your Disney film catalogue and start naming off the main characters of each film. You will find that there is a preponderance of female leads. If you investigate further, you will find most of them have no mothers. Case in point: Snow White, Cinderella, Beauty, Ariel, Belle, Jasmine. All of these characters are either raised by their fathers or evil stepmothers. The point of all of their films is how the girls are not complete until they find the right man.

I’ll be honest. I know that I became a better woman when I married Paul but I can assure you I never sat next to my window singing for some guy to find me. The first time I saw my daughter singing that song from Snow White, I almost had a feminist conniption. What shit! The newer females are not much better. Sure they seem a little tougher but ultimately they need the man to take control of them to tame their shrew.

But what can you expect from girls raised in castles by bumbling men? All of these girls have no mommy. They aren’t even mentioned as if it’s been so long that the mother is a non entity. Of course a man can raise a child as well as a woman but I think this trend is more an indication of Disney’s issues with mothers and women in general than a social commentary. And let’s face it, when he does portray a mother, albeit a step mom, he creates this heinous creature and some of the scariest shit any of his movies have. You try watching the scene in Snow White where the step mother witch transforms into a hag and makes the apple. Just thinking about it makes me shiver! I know many step mothers and most of them don’t scare me or request the heart of their stepchild in a box.

I am the mother of a teenage girl and as such feel obligated to set her straight and teach her how the world works for smart women. I teach her she doesn’t need a man to be complete. I teach her that if she goes into a house with little furniture to run. Dwarves are not your friend! I teach her that some men will feel the need to rescue her. Those guys can pay your rent and utilities once but then move on. I teach her never to accept an apple from an old woman. It’s just creepy. But mostly I teach her to follow her heart, speak her mind and be fearless. Let’s face it, it worked for Belle.

Paul’s comments: Whereas the women are missing a piece of themselves, the male leads of the movies are all studs. (With the exception of Aladdin. I think he was pussy whipped.) With the guy’s, you can see a difference between the classic movies, the ones when Walt was alive or a direct influence, and the modern films. The movies with Walt’s touch had a certain old-school male wisdom wound through them. In one sense, they promoted a chivalrous male stereotype, which I do appreciate, but there was always an underlying chauvinism that still promotes that ‘Come on son. You’re 14 now. Let’s go get you laid’ male-female separatism.

One example is the Jungle Book. This is my favorite Disney movie, by the way, mainly because of the King Louie song. In the Jungle Book, Mowgli spends most of the movie in male heaven – finding the bare necessities, fighting, sleeping, eating, and scratching his ass with a tree. At the end, he sees a young woman who shows him her big eyes. Eyes are a Disney boob metaphor. Let’s not pretend otherwise. And, without a word, he was in love. He wandered out of his all male jungle and into the ‘big eyes’ of the girl.

Thus the 1950 paradigm of the ineffectual male drone and the wily women leading him by his manhood is perpetuated. Some fifty years later, I’m showing it to my boys. What else can I do? I like the music.

Lee responds: I’m batting my eyes at you honey just like Sebastian told Ariel. Are you sure it was a boob metaphor or a hoo hoo metaphor? In the Haitian culture they refer to a woman having her “eyes too open” as a euphemism for a woman who is evolved (euphemism for a chick who won’t let the guy just mess around without getting a little pissy). I see the eyes as an easier woman especially that little girl in “Jungle Book” who was seducing him with those huge alien eyes. That’s it! I figured out. Walt’s Mom was an alien!

…to be continued because there’s just too much Disney stuff for one blog. We still have the parks, legal team, the new crop of Disney “stars” and Pixar to write about.

A Dick by any other name: Naming your children

Kids and why you can't kill them

Jan 272009

We named our youngest Richard, mainly because we liked the name. Neither Lee nor I like the new celebrity trend of naming their offspring after vegetables, streets, or bodily sounds. Most of the family uses the diminutive Ricky but I call him Dick; or more accurately, my Dick. This is solely for the joke. It gives me the opportunity to pass out baby pictures while asking, “Do you want a picture of my Dick?” Or declare that a friend is rubbing the head of my Dick when she tousles my son’s hair. My particular favorite is “Who wants to kiss my Dick” before Ricky and I make the bedtime rounds. I easily have a twenty year supply of these jokes.

So why do I make these jokes at my son’s expense, besides the fact that I love seeing the look on my mother-in-law’s face when I say them? Though Lee and I do not subscribe to gender roles, there is something to be said about how humans are socialized. Mommy gets to be nurturing and kind and society sees the need to infuse our children with this form of love. Daddy is the flip side. We get to say things like “walk it off” or “get it yourself” that give the child a sense of responsibility and self-strength. If this was one of those African tribes that practices scarification rites, I’d be the Daddy with the sharp rock and the confidence that my son could succeed through the trial of pain. When all is said and done, it is the celebration, the laughter, at the end of the cut that makes the tiny scar into a piece of art. Remember – The one with the most beautiful scars gets the prettiest girl in the tribe. So, my viewpoint is that I am preparing my Dick to be the strongest of this little American tribe of ours.

Luckily, we have three therapists in the family and dozens of mental health worker friends to fix the results of my philosophy. This way, Ricky will be able to get some pretty great discounts as he works out his issues with his Dick wielding father.

Lee says: I will admit, at first I was shocked, disgusted and upset that Paul chose to call Ricky Dick. But the truth is that in my heart I am a comedic whore and funny is funny. He doesn’t actually call him Dick but refers to him as his Dick. There is a small but important distinction.

It’s a joke. Ricky will be called Dick whether we like it or not. I think by using it the way we do, we have diffused that potential trauma. When he gets older, he will wield the power of his name thus taking that weapon away from the bullies that will undoubtedly be around.

Another important thing about Ricky’s name is that we knew of his sex when we were 14 weeks pregnant. As a mother, the bond is easier because they are with you and you can feel them move around. They are as real as the kicks and constipation that they give you. For fathers, the reality of their son or daughter is a little more surreal. Naming and joking about Ricky was a way for Paul to bond to him even before he could touch or see him. As a parent and therapist, I strongly recommend for parents to find out the sex of the baby. The bonding takes place earlier and is ultimately healthier for all involved.

I do agree with Paul’s opinion that Mommy’s and Daddy’s parent differently. He taught me this the hard way and there will be lots more blogging on this concept. Everyday, I will hear “I’m washing my Dick” or “Hey honey, you wanna kiss my Dick?” and I will smile because it’s funny and keeps Paul entertained. I also smile because one of these days, when Ricky is taller and bigger than his dad, he will kick his ass. That’s when I get to say “Hey honey, your Dick just kicked your ass!”

Lions, Tigers and Bears, oh my!

Monday, Heavy Monday

Jan 262009

Jeannie loves all animals and had asked Santa to bring her a snake many years ago. Now it seems like an easy request. Your baby asks for a gift. You have the means of giving it to her. Why wouldn’t you do it? The answer was easy: Paul. My husband is terrified of snakes. When I say terrified I don’t mean like Indiana Jones saying, “Why did it have to be snakes?” I mean he screams like a little girl when he sees a 4” garden snake and has a reflexive need to smash them with a hammer or anything heavy he can find.

I remember the conversation after we read her letter to Santa.

Paul: “Can’t we get her something else?”

Me: “Like what?”

Paul: “I don’t know. Maybe a dog?”

Me: “We already have 4 dogs.”

Paul: “The snake will kill me.”

Me: “Pardon me?”

The rest of the conversation was weird with Paul rocking himself back and forth in a fetal position.

That night we decided that we would not pass our fears onto our kids. Many of the fears we carry as adults were actually handed down to us by our parents. Fear is not a genetic marker but socialized fear is as dominant a trait as brown hair and freckles. It’s easier for us as parents to accept that our children share our fears so we never have to overcome them. Some fears are natural and show a respect for nature. A fear of snakes isn’t really going to paralyze anyone unless your child decides to be an adventurer/archeologist.

But, what if the fear is public speaking? Simple verbal cues like, “Oh my God! You have to do an oral report?” gives the message that these things are terrifying. As adults we know that success in business and most industries hinge on one’s ability to speak in public and yet many choose paths to avoid certain fears like writing, doing math or doing presentations. When we speak of fear of success it really means, “I’m not really willing to do what it takes to be successful.” These fears and messages are transmitted to our kids. The blanket beliefs we have about things are etched in their little psyches, i.e. “I’d rather gouge my eyes out than write a report,” or “All of those types of people are bad”.

So, of course, Jeannie got her snake. Paul put his fears to one side and was able to avoid scarring one of our kids, this time. I have faith in us. We still have time for some good traumatizing and two more kids to mess up.