By Lauren Mayer, on Wed Mar 26, 2014 at 8:30 AM ET Most of us are familiar with the cliche of the Jewish mother, who urges everyone to eat, nags her adult kids who don’t call her, and who is the butt of dozens of jokes that make people groan instead of laugh. (Although I do love the one about the mom who gives her son two ties for his birthday, the son immediately puts one on, and the mom says “What, you didn’t like the other one?”)
Of course, I’ve always thought I was way too hip for that cliche, but as I find myself nagging my own sons about their eating habits (which are mostly terrible, and would it be so hard for them to eat something green besides green Skittles?), I can hear echoes of my mother and grandmother. Yes, I’m a Jewish mother – but that isn’t as inconsistent with liberal political views as one might imagine, particularly when it comes to gay rights.
For example, many reformed synagogues (including ours) have offered same-sex commitment ceremonies for years. And Jews are disproportionately represented in entertainment (just listen to “You Won’t Succeed On Broadway” from Spamalot), with a gay-friendly environment. Plus we’re far more likely to live in urban areas, or suburbs near large cities, which tend to lean more Democrat and thus more tolerant. (In fact, at the large suburban high school my kids attended, the biggest issue with their Gay Straight Alliance club was that it was mostly filled with straight teen girls who, thanks to Glee and Smash, wanted their own gay best friend.)
When my kids were young, I tried to impart this tolerance by making sure my boys spent time with my wonderful gay friends, and urging tolerance whenever I could. (My older son was about 11 when he asked me when I thought he’d be ready to start kissing girls. I responded, quite earnestly, “Your body will tell you when you’re ready, and it will also tell you whether you want to kiss girls or boys, because both are okay.” He rolled his eyes and said, “Geez, mom, give it a rest. I hate to disappoint you, but I’m straight.”)
At any rate, it makes perfect sense that a Jewish mother would not only welcome, but actually want, a gay son – because that way she’d never be replaced by another woman. (Cue rim shot.) But to my surprise, when I googled “Jewish Mothers For Marriage Equality,” there were no exact matches. So clearly, a song was waiting to be born (and now, if you google that phrase, this one will come up!)
http://kck.st/1pPyqT2
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Mar 25, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET Third party politics and the sexes
Every few years public disgust with the two major political parties bubbles over to the point there is talk of a need to develop a third party.
As soon as the possibility of such a new entity starts to seem real both major parties tend to start behaving more responsibly and cooperatively.
The threat of a third party, in other words, seems to serve as a corrective on the behavior on the two major parties.
Which made me wonder if the same dynamic would occur between men and women –and they would get along better–if every few years there was talk of the threat of creating of a third sex.
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 Love grades
I can tell how I am doing with my wife by the way she ends her texts to me. When I am doing well Rebecca ends each text with a complete “Love.” When I am doing well but could use improvement I get the abbreviated “L.” When I am on the bubble I get a lower case “l.” And when I am really struggling and moved into negative territory I simply get her first initial “R.”
R’s are bad and can sometimes–if not remedied immediately–devolve into no close at all. That is very, very bad. A failing grade.
Today I am getting capital L’s
But trying to move up by this afternoon to a full-fledged “Love.”
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Mar 24, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET I am soooo smart sometimes….
Why do I say this?
Mostly because I am always looking for clever and cost-saving short cuts in life.
And it is fun when I come up with one.
For example, last month I decided the 5 sportscoats and suit jackets I wear most frequently all had arms thst came down to long on my shirt sleeve and I was going to do something about it. The typical person would go to a tailor or to the store they bought the jackets.
But not me. That is too expensive and time consuming for a guy like me–who can comes up with ingenious short cuts I simply tried each jacket on and estimated in my mind how much needed to be taken out of each arm. Took me all of 3 minutes.
Then I dropped them off at the cleaners with my instructions.
And Voila!! Just look at that sleeve now!! It’s not too long anymore, is it?
Ok, maybe a little too short….I know. Ahem. So this week I am taking the 5 jackets and suit jackets to a tailor to have them taken back out to the appropriate length.
Ok. So, maybe I’m not sooo smart after all. But it was fun thinking for a day or two that I really was.
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu Mar 20, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET
Time to mix it up
Last night went to Disney with family for couple hours and rode Pirates of the Caribbean –again.
And, again, for the 47th consecutive year the three jailed pirates were unsuccessful at coaxing the keys from the dog a few feet away.
Just once I would like to see an empty jail cell with the door swung open and the dog chewing on the bone that tempted him, finally, to part with the keys.
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Mar 19, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET A good friend with an exciting opportunity for a career change recently messaged me about the fear of making such a big change.
I shared a Zen parable I heard years ago that I think exemplifies shrewdly the fear of “letting go” of something we know for something new and scary.
I can’t recall the specifics of the story but this is my very paraphrased version.
“A monk was being chased by a lion and to save himself had to jump of a cliff in the dark of night where he grabbed a thin limb growing on the side of the cliff. The monk, dangling for his life in the pitch black dark, waited for the sun to come up before his strength gave way and, he feared, falling to his death.
But the sunrise didnt come soon enough and the monk’s arms, exhausted and numb, gave way slipping off the branch.
And the monk fell 6 inches to the ground below.
About that is often about as far we have to fall when making a compelling life change.
Something to think about…when you feel like letting go.
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Thought for the day
Each day try to learn one thing that will enhance your life
And….more importantly
Try to unlearn one old thing that is diminishing your life
By Lauren Mayer, on Wed Mar 19, 2014 at 8:30 AM ET One of the advantages of being a teenager’s mother (no, really, there ARE some advantages!) is early knowledge of trends. And it’s not just obsessive texting, video games, or mindless cat videos – my boys both introduced me to the wealth of actual, useful information one can find on youTube. (Although there’s plenty of ridiculous filler – as one comedian observed, we could just combine the youTube, Twitter and Facebook into one giant time-wasting site called “youTwitFace” . . . but I digress.)
My tap-dancer son has shown me great archival footage of the legends he admires, and youTube has introduced a whole new generation to the genius of Bill Robinson, Eleanor Powell, and the Nicholas Brothers. My younger son is a fan of cool science experiments as well as a group that does brilliant out-of-the-box music routines (including one in which a group of musicians created a piece by playing every part of the piano EXCEPT the keys). Because of youTube’s enormous scale (6 billion – yes, billion – hours of videos are watched every month!) I can find a video for anything I might ever want to do, from making homemade brioche to installing sheet rock (neither of which I’m ever likely to do, but it’s still cool to know I COULD if I wanted to!)
Of course, that volume makes it hard to come up with an original concept – someone else has probably already filmed their dog playing with a rubber ducky, no matter how cute yours is. So when Harry Reid made headlines last week by arguing that the GOP was “Addicted to Koch” (the billionaire Koch brothers), I figured someone would turn his memorable line into the obvious song. And while a doctored photo did pop up with a bunch of leggy models and Reid’s head superimposed over Robert Palmer’s, the song itself had yet to turn up on youTube.
Not only was Reid’s comment a great reference to an incredibly popular song (with an iconic video), but I played in a rock band during the ’80s which actually covered a couple of Robert Palmer tunes, so I knew the song in question. And on youTube I found a) the original video, b) hundreds of tutorials on how the makeup artist created that look, c) thousands of bad karaoke versions, and d) a couple of exposes on how a musician was hired to teach the models to mime playing their instruments, but they were so hopeless that he gave up after an hour. (Which explains why none of them seemed to be playing – or dancing – to the same beat. )
And to top it all off, when my son saw me dressed & made-up for the video, he knew exactly what I was parodying . . . .
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Mar 18, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET Whenever I hear someone say, “It is what it is,” I am going to respond, “That’s certainly true. But let’s not forget that it’s also not what it’s not.”
And then pause before adding, “Or is it? Know what I mean?” as I nod knowingly.
I think this will catch on and be the perfect confident rejoinder to the “Is = Is” breakthrough formulation devised just several years ago that no one is yet sure what exactly it means but we all sense it is something profoundly insightful that we can all agree on.
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A number of years ago a very wise friend of mine had this wry explanation about someone else we worked with who gave us fits but who somehow always seemed indispensable to management.
“His worth comes from being able to extricate our team out of crises that he manufactures.”
I laughed loud and hard at how right on the money my friend was with his observation.
And I swore I would never work again with anyone like the person he so fittingly described.
But sadly, I have discovered, there are more than just that one.
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Mar 17, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET A friend recommended I buy jeans at American Eagle Outfitters, a store I have never been to before.
I was excited until I was browsing and was told they not only didn’t have any jeans big enough for my waist (36), they also didn’t have any with a short enough inseam either (29).
And the worst part is I really liked the jeans!! I asked if they had a hybrid “Big and short section” for my size but they didn’t.
To add insult to injury, the waistlines for most jeans there are 26 and 28!!
What happened to us men the past 25 years? Or is this new fashion payback from women who men have idealized as far skinnier than normal for decades?
I smell gender payback all over this!
Come on, guys! I am on a diet…but for a normal male waistline circa 1985.
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It happens
When a guy reduces his waist from 38″ to a 35.5,” he can’t help but develop a little attitude.
And start asking himself if it is time to look into buying a pair of “skinny jeans.”
And feels a smug superiority toward men who sport a 36″ or 37″ inch waist.
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Mar 14, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET What? No upselling?
I just went through the drive-thru pharmacy at Walgreens to get a refill on an anti-cholesterol medication and was pleasantly surprised that I wasn’t asked if I would like to order “40 tablets instead of just 30?” and then asked if I would be interested in adding an “Anti-depressent or anti-anxiety medication today?” or if I would like to “Sign-up to win a year’s supply of a new mood stabilizer?” or being reminded that if I “Come back today after 2pm I can get a free refill on pain management meds purchased before 10am.”
Yet I also felt a little neglected.
Maybe the pharmacist just hadn’t completed “Customer service training” yet.
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu Mar 13, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET Whenever I am driving our minivan and pass by a motorcycle gang I try to make eye contact as if to say to them, “Hey, I ‘get’ you guys. I was just listening the other day to Steppenwolf’s “Born to be Wild” and I really enjoyed the movie “Easy Rider.”
But the way they look back at me makes me wonder sometimes if they really understand what I am trying to communicate.
I guess sometimes that body language alone isn’t enough.
Or maybe they read my additional body language which says to them, “I’d probably join you guys except I am afraid of motorcycles” and then wondering to myself “If you ride a motorcycle for a long time in khakis, would it start to burn the inside of your legs?”
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