It's been three-and-a-half years since I swam at the local public pool. Having been spoiled by having our own here in the condo, I had to re-join the masses this morning; ours is closed for a month while they paint it. Arriving, I presented myself at the desk and waited while the clerk looked me up. Yep, there I was, so she re-issued my card with my old photo. Man, talk about a shock! Back then I had many fewer grey hairs and many fewer facial lines. Depressing indeed to see what gravity has wrought in just a few years. Then it was into the dressing room, where I took a few moments to recover from the sight of so many middled-aged and elderly, naked women all trying desperately to ignore each other's hideous hides. Brought back a gruesome memory of several years ago, when I bumped into one of the kids' grade six teachers in the locker room and she wanted to have a lengthy chinwag -- all while stark naked! What a surreal moment -- chatting professionally with an exposed and unprotected Mrs. ........... and trying to pretend we were both fully-clothed.
Once in the pool I had to decide which lane to choose. When I started back swimming about eight or nine years ago, I barely made it one length in the leisure lane before collapsing in a lung-less heap, gasping for air. But as my heart-lung capacity improved, I graduated to the medium lane and pretty much stayed there until we moved to the condo. Today, much to my delight, I realized I now fitted right into the continuous fast lane! What a thrill! Now, I would never try this in the evening, when all the young crowd are pounding mercilessly up and down after work. But in the middle-aged cohort, I am now the fastest one in the pool! At least today I was. I haven't felt that rush for a thousand years and it felt wonderful. I actually had to push myself because one middle-aged guy was convinced there was no way I could possibly be faster than he. But he was thwarted as I pushed the "pace", so to speak, and kept the lead.
So, I did my 50 lengths and emerged 38 minutes later with quite a buzz on! Score one for the middle-aged broads!
Friday, October 29, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Really, really bad movie
Must be nothing much to rent these days b/c B brought home 'Sex and the City 2'. What a really, really, really bad movie. Even the shoes could not save it. Here are four skeletal, middle-aged anorexics schlepping their way through Abu Dabbi (sp?). These women are hideous. With portrayals of silly, obsessed women at this end of life and 'Tiaras and Toddlers' at the other, we have no hope of convincing young women to be strong and independent.
Just made the mistake of watching 'The View', which I assiduously never do. I think it may top that movie. Four screaming women ranting about nothing is what it is all about. You just want to cringe continuously. So, don't rent the movie, unless you want confirmation that celery is not a helpful meal hint at 45 years of age. And don't watch 'The View', unless you want confirmation that many women are basically hysterics.
Just made the mistake of watching 'The View', which I assiduously never do. I think it may top that movie. Four screaming women ranting about nothing is what it is all about. You just want to cringe continuously. So, don't rent the movie, unless you want confirmation that celery is not a helpful meal hint at 45 years of age. And don't watch 'The View', unless you want confirmation that many women are basically hysterics.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Terror and table talk
Made the mistake of watching 'The Fifth Estate' last night. It was an hour of Russell William's confession and it was chilling. As the mother of a daughter who goes running (sometimes in the dark) I have always been fearful of what could happen to her. Even though she is married and safe, I cannot help but think that none of our daughters is safe. I know she will not like to read this, I don't like to write it, but evil and terror are with us. This was not a show I should have watched.
After my shift at the Museum today, went to lunch at the golf club and had a "monty python" experience, as I listened to elderly folks at the next table. "Hi George, may I join you?" "What?" "Are you alone?" "No, I'm not going home." "No, would you like company?" "Yes, I am very comfy." "What have you been up to?" "No, you don't need to tip-toe here, it's alright." "What's for lunch?" "You had a hunch?" "Is the special good?" "What?" "Are you enjoying your sandwich?" "No, I didn't have to use a sand wedge today." It was hilarious! It went on and on, yet both gentlemen communicated perfectly -- even if on different wavelengths entirely.
After my shift at the Museum today, went to lunch at the golf club and had a "monty python" experience, as I listened to elderly folks at the next table. "Hi George, may I join you?" "What?" "Are you alone?" "No, I'm not going home." "No, would you like company?" "Yes, I am very comfy." "What have you been up to?" "No, you don't need to tip-toe here, it's alright." "What's for lunch?" "You had a hunch?" "Is the special good?" "What?" "Are you enjoying your sandwich?" "No, I didn't have to use a sand wedge today." It was hilarious! It went on and on, yet both gentlemen communicated perfectly -- even if on different wavelengths entirely.
Friday, October 22, 2010
This is Britain
Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse.....it gets. Watched a Michael Caine movie this afternoon, entitled 'Harry Brown'. It made 'This is England' look like 'Mr. Roger's Neighbourhood' and 'Wife Swap' look like 'Romper Room'. Congratulations to the new Prime Minister for cutting what has enabled Britain to get into this state. This is a brilliant performance by Caine about council house life in England today -- resplendent in perfect and exquisite squalor and degradation. It is a film about a senior vigilante (Caine) and the 'Clockwork Orange' thugs who terrorize him. His best friend has been brutally murdered, after countless hazings and other unspeakable acts by aimless, murderous, shiftless, lawless, sociopathic, pathological and insane youths. Remember when we thought Stanley Kubrick's movie was ridiculous? How many years ago was Clockwork? Well, that movie has long arrived. These hideous people thrive and multiple in today's Britain. The Rule of Law is kaput; courtesy is "whaaaat..."; manners.........."huh??!!!"
Do yourself a favour and rent it. Rent it and weep.
Do yourself a favour and rent it. Rent it and weep.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Mixed Martial Arts
Well, here I am in Vancouver, blogging from my daughter and son-in-law's living room, watching Mixed Martial Arts. MMA should really be called "fight to kill". These crazy men battle each other mercilessly to the death, if it gets to that. As a mother, I find it hard to watch. Nothing is out of bounds, anything and everything goes, as they pound each other in the head, eyes, ears and every other part of the body. Watching the mat fill up with blood I find it hard to handle. Is there a point here, except to excite? And in that it succeeds.
Before we returned here, we had a delightful day driving up the Sea to Sky Highway to take a tour of the Britannia Mine, now closed since the '70s. A big thank you to the unions here.
Now I am back in my condo, after a great week out west. But a note of caution to anyone travelling to Vancouver. Is this the crime capital of Canada now? Three years ago I had my wallet stolen, with all my cards.......a huge hassle to replace everything. In two hours the thieves had racked up more that $2,000 worth of expenditures. This trip, I was contacted by mastercard after using my card once and they cancelled it on the spot. Then Brian had some unknown charges on his while we were on the government-run ferry! The crooks always seem to be ahead of the rest of us.
But seeing my daughter happy with her wonderful husband and adorable puppy was so gratifying -- even if puppy Pearl decided I was the target of the week and wanted to chew on all my jewellry and clothes. Colin and Susanne decided it was my "Cruella" look that attracted Pearl -- you know, long, flowing coats and lots of bling. Pearl was determined to either subdue me or win me over and she was relentless in her efforts. Colin helpfully sent me a cartoon depiction of Cruella, which I will now use for my blog photo, if I can ever figure out how to upload it (duh?).
I have decided that Vancouver is better off with my firefighter son-in-law in charge of a wee piece of it. He is so calm, cool and collected, so competent and polite -- not to mention devastatingly handsome and charming -- that all who come into contact with him on (and off) the job must feel immediately reassured. You just take one look at him and know all will be well when he takes charge.
Now back to my real life.
Before we returned here, we had a delightful day driving up the Sea to Sky Highway to take a tour of the Britannia Mine, now closed since the '70s. A big thank you to the unions here.
Now I am back in my condo, after a great week out west. But a note of caution to anyone travelling to Vancouver. Is this the crime capital of Canada now? Three years ago I had my wallet stolen, with all my cards.......a huge hassle to replace everything. In two hours the thieves had racked up more that $2,000 worth of expenditures. This trip, I was contacted by mastercard after using my card once and they cancelled it on the spot. Then Brian had some unknown charges on his while we were on the government-run ferry! The crooks always seem to be ahead of the rest of us.
But seeing my daughter happy with her wonderful husband and adorable puppy was so gratifying -- even if puppy Pearl decided I was the target of the week and wanted to chew on all my jewellry and clothes. Colin and Susanne decided it was my "Cruella" look that attracted Pearl -- you know, long, flowing coats and lots of bling. Pearl was determined to either subdue me or win me over and she was relentless in her efforts. Colin helpfully sent me a cartoon depiction of Cruella, which I will now use for my blog photo, if I can ever figure out how to upload it (duh?).
I have decided that Vancouver is better off with my firefighter son-in-law in charge of a wee piece of it. He is so calm, cool and collected, so competent and polite -- not to mention devastatingly handsome and charming -- that all who come into contact with him on (and off) the job must feel immediately reassured. You just take one look at him and know all will be well when he takes charge.
Now back to my real life.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Beauty and The Beast
One of the best shows ever has started again this season: Battle of the Blades. Figure skaters are paired with NHL players and it is breathtaking. 'Beauty and The Beast' comes to mind. So do 'The Gentle Giant', 'The Frog and the Prince' and 'Cinderella'. Do yourselves a favour and watch CBC at 8 p.m. on Sunday and Monday nights. The gallantry of these brutes with their porcelein doll partners is magic. I blogged this last year, but it's even better this year.
I mentioned a photographic show we went to last weekend. It consisted of huge colour photos of women I didn't know going for $200-$300 apiece. Whaaaaaaaaaaa???? Why would I buy a photo of a woman I didn't know to hang in my home? I asked this of the photographer and he said it was for a good cause, breast cancer. OK, I get that. But still, why would I hang these women in my home? Did they have breast cancer? No, none of them did, he replied. So, duh, why would I fork over $300 to buy one?? I told him that only their mothers, kids or husbands would buy them. He admitted that I was not the only one who had asked that question.
Another show I have been enjoying is 'Come Dine with Me' -- a British show in which five strangers compete for $1,000 pounds for producing the best meal. Now this is a motley crew of misfits and ordinary folk. Rock stars they definitely are not, which makes the show facinating. Each participant prepares a three-course dinner and is then rated secretly in the taxi rides home by the others. The outfits some of them wear are beyond belief and as the evening wears on, they all get more and more tiddley until silliness reins. The narrator who provides the voice over is the best. He provides quips and retorts to each ridiculous remark the diners and hosts make. And talk about over-estimating their culinary skils! They all think they have won until the final dinner when the truth is revealed. The only problem with the show is that they run five half-hour segments back-to-back on Sunday afternoons, so I have to sit there for two-and-a-half hours to find out who wins and how they all react. But again, the show proves that the Brits are just head-and-shoulders above the rest of us when it comes to tv shows.
Except for Chuck Berry. Last night they re-played a 25-year-old show by the master that had originally aired back then on his 60th birthday. Peerless. He was so great -- and when he did his chicken walk, well forget about it. The fans went wild. This show had Keith Richards dressed in a matching backup suit playing backup guitar. Etta James, Linda Ronstadt and Julien Lennon were also on, but no one could touch the master.
I mentioned a photographic show we went to last weekend. It consisted of huge colour photos of women I didn't know going for $200-$300 apiece. Whaaaaaaaaaaa???? Why would I buy a photo of a woman I didn't know to hang in my home? I asked this of the photographer and he said it was for a good cause, breast cancer. OK, I get that. But still, why would I hang these women in my home? Did they have breast cancer? No, none of them did, he replied. So, duh, why would I fork over $300 to buy one?? I told him that only their mothers, kids or husbands would buy them. He admitted that I was not the only one who had asked that question.
Another show I have been enjoying is 'Come Dine with Me' -- a British show in which five strangers compete for $1,000 pounds for producing the best meal. Now this is a motley crew of misfits and ordinary folk. Rock stars they definitely are not, which makes the show facinating. Each participant prepares a three-course dinner and is then rated secretly in the taxi rides home by the others. The outfits some of them wear are beyond belief and as the evening wears on, they all get more and more tiddley until silliness reins. The narrator who provides the voice over is the best. He provides quips and retorts to each ridiculous remark the diners and hosts make. And talk about over-estimating their culinary skils! They all think they have won until the final dinner when the truth is revealed. The only problem with the show is that they run five half-hour segments back-to-back on Sunday afternoons, so I have to sit there for two-and-a-half hours to find out who wins and how they all react. But again, the show proves that the Brits are just head-and-shoulders above the rest of us when it comes to tv shows.
Except for Chuck Berry. Last night they re-played a 25-year-old show by the master that had originally aired back then on his 60th birthday. Peerless. He was so great -- and when he did his chicken walk, well forget about it. The fans went wild. This show had Keith Richards dressed in a matching backup suit playing backup guitar. Etta James, Linda Ronstadt and Julien Lennon were also on, but no one could touch the master.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
The millions of other people don't want to work
We always think of people who don't want to work as "welfare bums" and the like. But I just figured out there are millions of others who don't want to work: artists, actors, musicians, extras...and the like. Think about it. Whenever you turn on the TV or go to a movie or a concert, there they are -- the tons of people who don't want to work. We see them in movies, on the stage, on TV, in specials..........there are bags of them. Anyone who wants to be an entertainer simply does not want to work. Now, think about it again. And for that, the rest of us reward them handsomely in the millions. The economics are that you and I slave for a paltry (or reasonable, middle-class) wage and give money in our spare time, in an effort to be distracted from our humdrum lives, to those who don't want to work. I am no economist, but I think the math works here.
Love the show 'Steven Seagal, Lawman'. Apparently Steve has been working as a deputy sheriff in Jefferson County, Louisiana, for the past 20 years as a cop. Now he has a reality show and it's fabulous. Here's Steve, now fat and lethargic like the rest of us, but still a hero to everyone. I love the guy. We see Steve in the car with his partner, sporting a bullet-proof vest (unlike in his movies, where he wards off bullets with a mere piercing glance), chasing bad guys. The riot is that when they catch the drug-dealer-murderer-rapist-burglar-drunk-druggie-dealer, the guy stops in mid-arrest and says, "Man, Steven Seagal! Are you really Steven Seagal?!?! I love you, man, you're my hero!" "Were you expecting someone else," says the coolest of the cool, Steve. And the guy rolls over and submits. It is fantastic!
The other show I love is 'Dog, The Bounty Hunter'. More about that later.
Let's also talk about the BBC show 'Come Dine With Me' -- in which five strangers prepare meals for each other in a competition to win $1,000 pounds. It's almost as good as 'Wife Swap' -- more about that later too.
I also have to talk about a photographic show I attended. Stupid. And the Commonwealth Games -- breathtaking.
Love the show 'Steven Seagal, Lawman'. Apparently Steve has been working as a deputy sheriff in Jefferson County, Louisiana, for the past 20 years as a cop. Now he has a reality show and it's fabulous. Here's Steve, now fat and lethargic like the rest of us, but still a hero to everyone. I love the guy. We see Steve in the car with his partner, sporting a bullet-proof vest (unlike in his movies, where he wards off bullets with a mere piercing glance), chasing bad guys. The riot is that when they catch the drug-dealer-murderer-rapist-burglar-drunk-druggie-dealer, the guy stops in mid-arrest and says, "Man, Steven Seagal! Are you really Steven Seagal?!?! I love you, man, you're my hero!" "Were you expecting someone else," says the coolest of the cool, Steve. And the guy rolls over and submits. It is fantastic!
The other show I love is 'Dog, The Bounty Hunter'. More about that later.
Let's also talk about the BBC show 'Come Dine With Me' -- in which five strangers prepare meals for each other in a competition to win $1,000 pounds. It's almost as good as 'Wife Swap' -- more about that later too.
I also have to talk about a photographic show I attended. Stupid. And the Commonwealth Games -- breathtaking.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
What "you look great" really means
Went to my old hairdresser today. I have abandoned him because he charges waaaaaaaaaaaay too much for my short short-hair cut. I have been going to First Choice for an $11 special for the past three years. The only reason I can manage with the sh-t haircuts one gets there is that I keep it so short I can personally manage each and every stand with precision, spray, gel and dogged determination to camoflage a very bad haircut. Anyway, we are going to Vancouver and I wanted a proper cut. So, back to Dan I loped, hat in hand. (Why is it that we feel guilty about abandoning our hairdressers?) Anyway, I had told Dan a few years ago I was going to go for the $11 deal because I swim every day and need a 'no-hair' hair cut. He was very sweet and agreed totally -- in spite of the fact that I had been going to him for 20 years. Yes, he knows every secret of my life, yes he has seen me very thin, yes he has seen me fat, yes he has seen me working, yes he has seen me retired, yes he has seen me dealing with my children and step-children, yes he has seen me coping with all my bosses.............and yes he has tried to duplicate every stupid hairdo I have presented him with -- including pictures of 20-year-olds I thought I could look like. Ha! The guy is a saint.
Today I arrived and he greeted me with a huge hug and the news that it had been exactly one year to the day since I had been to see him! Yes, I remember, I wanted a proper hair cut last Thanksgiving before we visited Susanne in Vancouver. Here's the deal: when I walked in, he rushed over and gushed! "You look great!" But what that really means is..."For an old bag it's great to see that you have actually put on makeup and dressed up a little. And you have even tried to harmonize your outfit, earrings, shoes, etc..........never mind that you're fat, you're still hanging in there!" That's what "You look great" really means. You don't really look great. You look "great" in comparison to the many women who stay in their pyjamas all day.
Something to ponder. (By the way, I love my hair cut; he is a genius.)
Today I arrived and he greeted me with a huge hug and the news that it had been exactly one year to the day since I had been to see him! Yes, I remember, I wanted a proper hair cut last Thanksgiving before we visited Susanne in Vancouver. Here's the deal: when I walked in, he rushed over and gushed! "You look great!" But what that really means is..."For an old bag it's great to see that you have actually put on makeup and dressed up a little. And you have even tried to harmonize your outfit, earrings, shoes, etc..........never mind that you're fat, you're still hanging in there!" That's what "You look great" really means. You don't really look great. You look "great" in comparison to the many women who stay in their pyjamas all day.
Something to ponder. (By the way, I love my hair cut; he is a genius.)
High heels and the GG's spouse
I was delighted to observe that David Johnson's wife sports high heels. Our new GG's spouse is a doctor in her own right and assertively attended every event in gorgeous high heels. Very impressive -- a gal after my own heart. When he was officially sworn in in the Upper Chamber, he embraced his wife and they actually kissed on the lips. Only Kathleen Petty, duh-CBC-hostess-with-the-leastest, had the poor taste to announce........"Well, what a kiss! I guess we can see why they have five children! Ha, Ha, Ha!" Quelle Bete. Thankfully, her male colleagues ignored this unfortunate and well...... pretty much stupid.... slip into the abyss of.....whatever?@!#?!?! At that moment, instead of admiring the sight of our new Governor General and his wife -- and conjuring up all their collective brilliant accomplishments as they entered Rideau Hall as Vice-Regent and Consort -- all I could picture was the two of them creating the 45 months of pregnancy required to birth five daughters. The obtuse Ms. Petty had effectively reduced an august occasion to a tawdry circus of anyone-can-do-that...and added a "ha-ha-ha" to further diminish the serious affair. The whole mess jarred. Annother media "genius" asked the GG if he wasn't disappointed he had had no sons, after five daughters. Duh, duh and duh again!^#!! Wisely, Mr. Johnson said, "Obviously, you have not met my daughters." Well said. See, what have I been trying to tell you people! We have not come far by any stretch as women.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
More from the Deaconate
Talking about the sainted Dr. Keon and his mishap reminded me of a dinner we went to a few years ago. We were seated at a table with two Catholic deacons and their wives. Both men were dressed in elaborate robes and had large, bejewelled crosses around thier throats; their wives were door-mice. Well, as we were all sipping wine -- or was it gulping -- I mentioned that I had given a wino money that afternoon. "Excuse me, m'am, but do you have .23 cents?" he slurred. "Why .23 cents?" I asked him. "That's all I need for a bottle," he replied. I was so bowled over I gave him the money. He wasn't being greedy and I always give money to beggars -- be they drunks or whackos. I told this story to my pious dinner companions and between generous swigs of the grape they denounced public drunks and stated that they never...glug...glug...gave money...glug, glug...to bums...glug, glug...for booze. "Oh I will certainly take them out for a meal, but if you give them money, they just spend it on booze," admonished one of the virtuous, draining his goblet.
That prompted me to explain why I always give money to beggars -- you know, there but for the grace of god..............etc. And who am I to judge what they need it for? But I then added, "You know, shocking and unbelieveable as it may seem, I have actually been drunk myself -- maybe even more than once. The only difference is most of us learn pretty quickly when to put the cork in the bottle. These unfortunates don't." They stared at me mute and turned the colour of their robes. Both wives sniggered. And that was the end of their righteous denunciation of street drunks.
That prompted me to explain why I always give money to beggars -- you know, there but for the grace of god..............etc. And who am I to judge what they need it for? But I then added, "You know, shocking and unbelieveable as it may seem, I have actually been drunk myself -- maybe even more than once. The only difference is most of us learn pretty quickly when to put the cork in the bottle. These unfortunates don't." They stared at me mute and turned the colour of their robes. Both wives sniggered. And that was the end of their righteous denunciation of street drunks.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Prostitutes and Pillars of the Community
A few years back, a renowned Ottawa heart surgeon, Dr. Wilbur Keon, was picked up for soliciting a prostitute. Unfortunately for him, it was an undercover policewoman. Well, Dr. Keon was a sainted member of the community and his sanctimonious mug was everywhere. No charity event was too small for him up at which to show, no fund-raiser ever turned down. Yessiree, Dr. Wilbur Keon was a godly man 'round the Ottawa Valley. He and his family attended our parish church and the bowing and scraping that went on when he graced the pews was beyond the beyond. Too lofty for the lowly Knights of Columbus, Dr. Keon was a revered officer in the Knights of Malta and he was to be found at every fellow knight's funeral bejewelled and be-costumed as befitted a king.
The reason his follies were uncovered and hit the morning press was because every "john" is required to attend "john school" when they are caught hiring prostitutes. So, an attentive reporter attended and there he was, smack dab in the middle of the class! Being lectured by a host of experts about the evils of hiring prostitutes -- you know, disease, drugs, crime..........that kinda stuff. The thing that killed me was the outpouring of sympathy for poor old Dr. Keon. I mean, the poor guy was over-worked and just needed a little "relaxation" and "stress relief" after a few tough heart transplants. I remember being blasted at a Knights of Columbus dinner by an old Valley boy just because I wondered about the prosititutes he was hiring. Did anyone give a sh-t about them? You would have thought I'd maligned Jesus Christ himself! "Back in my day, the police chief would have had a little chat with him, bought him a coffee and driven him home. I mean the poor guy, there was no need to expose him to the humiliation of john school!," this chap raved.
Me being me, I wrote a letter to the editor after a tearful Dr. Keon held a press conference to express his Jimmy-Swaggart confession about how he had..."sinned just this once" and caused such harm to his wife and family. And there she sat, stony-faced beside him with a murderous look in her eye. Again, I kept thinking about the poor prostitutes he had used over the years (as if this had been his "first time"). No one gave a damn about them. So, I wrote a letter to the editor in which I expressed sympathy for the prositute. "No mother looks at her newborn daughter and says her burning ambition is for her to grow up to be a street prostitute," I wrote. Well do we? Of course not. Naturally, because it was the sainted Dr. Keon, they did not publish my letter.
This all came back to me with the striking down of the prositution laws. I never could figure out how it was legal to be a prositute, but illegal to solicit?? I guess that law was written because so many of us effectively are prostitutes -- we get money for sex, whether we are wives or lovers or friends. I mean, you can't say that a respectable wife and mother who exchanges sex with her husband, boyfriend or partner for money is a prostitute, so it had to be legal. But now soliciting is legal. Not that I think that's a great idea, but at least logic has now prevailed. What has prompted this blog was a column I read recently by a man who said exactly what I had said after the Keon affair......"No mother gives birth to a daughter and prays that her daughter will grow up to be a street hooker." Precisely and absolutely. Prostitution is very sad and very destructive to so many people. It will be interesting to see how this all plays out. Forgive the idiom, but 'A Pig in a Poke' comes to mind.
The reason his follies were uncovered and hit the morning press was because every "john" is required to attend "john school" when they are caught hiring prostitutes. So, an attentive reporter attended and there he was, smack dab in the middle of the class! Being lectured by a host of experts about the evils of hiring prostitutes -- you know, disease, drugs, crime..........that kinda stuff. The thing that killed me was the outpouring of sympathy for poor old Dr. Keon. I mean, the poor guy was over-worked and just needed a little "relaxation" and "stress relief" after a few tough heart transplants. I remember being blasted at a Knights of Columbus dinner by an old Valley boy just because I wondered about the prosititutes he was hiring. Did anyone give a sh-t about them? You would have thought I'd maligned Jesus Christ himself! "Back in my day, the police chief would have had a little chat with him, bought him a coffee and driven him home. I mean the poor guy, there was no need to expose him to the humiliation of john school!," this chap raved.
Me being me, I wrote a letter to the editor after a tearful Dr. Keon held a press conference to express his Jimmy-Swaggart confession about how he had..."sinned just this once" and caused such harm to his wife and family. And there she sat, stony-faced beside him with a murderous look in her eye. Again, I kept thinking about the poor prostitutes he had used over the years (as if this had been his "first time"). No one gave a damn about them. So, I wrote a letter to the editor in which I expressed sympathy for the prositute. "No mother looks at her newborn daughter and says her burning ambition is for her to grow up to be a street prostitute," I wrote. Well do we? Of course not. Naturally, because it was the sainted Dr. Keon, they did not publish my letter.
This all came back to me with the striking down of the prositution laws. I never could figure out how it was legal to be a prositute, but illegal to solicit?? I guess that law was written because so many of us effectively are prostitutes -- we get money for sex, whether we are wives or lovers or friends. I mean, you can't say that a respectable wife and mother who exchanges sex with her husband, boyfriend or partner for money is a prostitute, so it had to be legal. But now soliciting is legal. Not that I think that's a great idea, but at least logic has now prevailed. What has prompted this blog was a column I read recently by a man who said exactly what I had said after the Keon affair......"No mother gives birth to a daughter and prays that her daughter will grow up to be a street hooker." Precisely and absolutely. Prostitution is very sad and very destructive to so many people. It will be interesting to see how this all plays out. Forgive the idiom, but 'A Pig in a Poke' comes to mind.
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