And now, for something completely different.  I don’t normally share my ideas on the state of the world, politics, or the economy.  Partially because I don’t want to stick my foot in my mouth for lack of information, mostly because it’s nobody’s business but my own.  But with all the attention being paid to the film Miss Representation on Facebook and the web, I decided to join the conversation.  This morning, I watched the trailer, eight minutes of ideas, commentary, sound bites, and statistics to get people thinking about the roles of girls and women in American society.  Without having seen the film in its entirety (it airs on the Oprah Network on the 20th), I don’t know how they address the statistics cited, but here are my thoughts on what is presented.

“3% of positions of clout in telecommunications, entertainment, publishing, and advertising are held by women.  16% of writers, directors, producers, and cinematographers are women.”

This is depressing and certainly gives a perspective on why so much of the media we see portrays women in a negative light or as mere sexual objects.  If we aren’t in the room making the decisions, it’s difficult to change the content.

“The 2010 midterm election is the only time since 1979 that women have not made gains.”

I wonder, were there as many women running for office?  If so, were they intelligent and well spoken?  An Olympia Snowe or a Patty Murray (or a Shirley Chisolm ’72: Unbought and Unbossed – to use an old school phrase – she was bitchen!) versus a Michelle Bachmann?  Bless her heart, she flummoxes me, and, as a woman, I’d make no hesitation in choosing a thoughtful, educated man, regardless of party, over a woman who makes so little sense.  None at all.  The same goes for any candidate of color.  I would love to see more representation, but I am not going to vote for someone who doesn’t put a clear message in my voter’s pamphlet.

“At age seven, equal numbers of girls and boys want to be President, but by age fifteen, there is a large gap.” 

At age seven, I wanted to be a pilot, and a boy told me I couldn’t because I was a girl.  I cried bullshit but then realized that it wasn’t what I wanted to do anyway.  I’m forty, and, heaven help me, still don’t have a career path nailed down.  However, I can say, rather definitively, that I never, ever wanted to be President.  Maybe the girls who said they did at seven had the same change of heart as I did about being a pilot, not because someone told them it wasn’t possible, but because they wanted something different for themselves.

“Women make up 51% of the population yet are only 17% of the Congress.”

Again, I wonder how many women are running?  I know I can’t recall many women from Oregon being on the ballot.  Also, that is a difficult job, with work that never ends, the majority of which is away from home.  It’s certainly not something I would choose.  Heck, Mitch Daniels, a man, didn’t run for President for the same reason, “the interests and wishes of my family is the most important consideration of all.”  Here’s hoping this is at least partially responsible for the lack of parity.

Finally, to what started me writing this post in the first place.  Soon after I watched the trailer, I was doing part of my daily workout, a POP Pilates for long and lean legs, and wondered what my motivation for working on my body is.  Do I feel pressured by the media to be something other than what I am?  Am I overwhelmed by images of model thin women and feel I must conform?  In all honesty, no.  First and foremost, I want to be healthy, fit, and strong.  Emphasis on the strong.  I don’t want to take the easy way out by using prescription drugs instead of good self-care.  It’s bad enough that my skin is starting to sag and my hair is turning grey with amazing rapidity.  I don’t want to have to start popping pills, too.  I’ve seen enough prescription drug ads, as many as I have for wrinkle creams and weight loss, to know that they are bad news.  Side effects may include…

So there, I’m done.  Happy hump day!

Back when real film was ubiquitous, not all of these simple, yet amazing, zeros and ones, my mom took a picture of my brother, I think it was Chris, and his Easter basket.  He might have been holding up an egg or the stuffed rabbit nestled inside.  When we got it back from the developer, he was there, happily smiling, but not where he was meant to be.  He was hovering over something else, maybe the sofa, in another picture.  Double exposed.  A misfiring of camera sprocketry and the cause of wonder.

This photo is not double exposed, though it would be nice to blame the bags under my eyes on something besides the late hour.  I’d like to maintain the delusion that I look picture perfect at every hour of the day, however improbable. This is my first self-portrait with my new and improved, yet not too fancy, camera.  I’m calling it “Kitchen Window with Bags Under Eyes: Outfit Matches Decor.”  How’s that for a title?

As for the camera, it’s a Kodak Z990, a super pimped up version of our old point-and-shoot, also a Kodak.  I’m a Kodak devotee from way back to my elementary school Instamatic days, if you recall.    That’s my camera, and I’m sticking to it.  I learned my lesson messing with a good thing because the one time I delved into non-Kodak territory, it didn’t turn out so well.  The hubster bought a super snazzy camera in Japan, supposed to be the shit, that actually  turned out to be just plain shit (will you listen to that potty mouth?!).  Lesson learned.

So here I am, taking new photos, possibly delving into ISO and f-stops and all that jazz.  I am happy so far, even if it can’t be jammed into a cargo pocket.  I love cargo pockets.

As for the rest of life, I have so much to show and tell, but it must wait for another day.  My brain is too mooshy-mooshy from all the bathroom remodeling.   In the mean time, be well!