School's Out. Compo's Open.

Last Sunday's article for Westport Patch

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The season of sweat and mosquitoes appears to be upon us.

Rumor has it the longest day of the year just came and went and a new season has officially begun. If the solstice hadn't clued me in, I suppose there have been a few other seasonal reminders. 

Here's what makes me think it just might be summer:

• Two words: reality TV.
• Somehow it seems perfectly reasonable to go to the ice cream shop about four times a week. (In fact, ice cream sounds pretty good right about now.)
•  I'm spending more at Joey's by the Shore than at Trader Joe's.
• Bedtime? What's bedtime? Why should the kids go to bed when everyone's outside riding bikes at 8:30 pm or jumping on the trampoline? Even weirder: I've stopped caring if they stay up till 9:30.
• Shopping – once an entirely enjoyable activity -- has become a horrendous chore thanks to a certain seasonal garment: the swimsuit.
• Waxing has taken on a new, sudden urgency.
• It's all about the creams these days: sunblock, spray sunblock, solid sunblock, bug repellent. And when those don't work, it's aloe gel and calamine lotion.
• Cocktails with mint sound really refreshing.
• It's only been a few days since school let out, and already I've heard, "Mom, I'm bored!" more times than I can count.
• Back-to-school merchandise will surely be on shelves in a week or so.
• My kids are around everywhere, 24/7. I mean we love the little buggers and everything but don't these little people have anywhere else to be?
• The inside of the car is already filled with a few pounds of sand.
• The sprinklers and hoses are now used more for dousing neighborhood kids and siblings than for anything lawn-related.
• There's really no reason to wear anything other than flip-flops anymore.

And the final reason I'm pretty sure it's summer is:

• It's hotter than all hell outside. And humid, just to add to the fun.

So that proves it. Summer must be here.

Everyone in the pool! 

westport.patch.com

Funny of the Day

We went to Southampton right after school got out which was gorgeous and tons of fun. I keep forgetting how different the ocean is from the Sound. They have actual waves (with undertoe). The sand is softer. The water is bluer. (Sorry, Compo beach, but it's true. We still love you, though.) 

Anyway, we took the ferry to Port Jeff to get over and then drove to the Hamptons. It was only about 2 1/5 hours total. But when we started walking around town in search of some dinner, QB asked, slightly mystified, 

"What time zone are we in?"

It's Show Time!

Last week's column for Westport Patch:

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Some Westport student recitals have become more than just showing parents what the kids have learned. They're productions.

It's June, which means the obvious: graduations, Father's Day and early season beach trips. The warm, humid weather also heralds another annual event: recital season.

Every year at around this time, almost every kid who's enrolled in some sort of class (piano, ballet, gymnastics) puts on a little show for the parents. It's the school's way of saying, "Thank you for making your exorbitant tuition payments. Isn't it great that little Katie can now do a cartwheel?"

Of course most kids love the recital. It's their special day when all eyes are focused on them – a kid's dream come true. And for the girls, special hairdos and make-up is even involved. Lip gloss! What could be better?

I'll tell you what: the costumes.

My daughter recently had a hip-hop recital with her dance school. I'm thinking it'll be like last year's ballet recital through a different dance school. It was perfect: a low-key event in a small auditorium at a club. The kids wore their matching leotards from class, dressed up with scarves and hats and little things like that. Maybe 80 or 100 parents and siblings were there.

The year was a bit different. The $60 fee for the costume should have been my first clue. We've been hearing about the costumes since about March. Notes went home about and how children whose parents were behind in their tuition or payments for the much-anticipated dresses would not get to participate in the recital. The costume itself was, to my eye, a wee overpriced. Pink and black polyester, it looked like a Halloween outfit you'd pick up for 10 bucks at Target. Here's my question: why not just include the costume fee in the tuition? Instead, we're nickel-and-dimed. Kind of like the way airlines started charging us to check bags.

Why not also include the price of two tickets to the recital, too? The show was at the Quick Center at Fairfield University and I discovered that securing admission to my 5-year-old's hip-hop show turned out to be harder than getting a hold of Justin Bieber tickets.

Eventually, I scrounged up three of them which — along with the processing fees — came to $68. On top of the costume charge, the total outlay was up to $128. It's a lot to watch your child on stage for about 30 seconds. Some of the older dancers wore three or four different sparkly costumes throughout the show. Ka-ching.

This might be hard to believe, given the general theme of this article, but the money didn't really matter to me. It was the principle of the thing.

For the littler kids, the recital was really all  about the costumes.

Some outfits, like the leopard-print boudoir-style numbers for the tiniest girls were eyebrow-raising and detracted attention from the performance. But even the sweet and age-appropriate costumes took center stage.

A group of 4-year-olds in blue dresses with crinolines and little bows were so excited about how cute they looked that they proceeded to entirely forget their dance. One girl stood off to the side of her group, waved to her parents, and called out, "Hi Mommy!" The audience tittered delightedly while her parents furiously worked their camcorder. Of course this was bound to happen.  It was a Jon Benet light: little girls dressed-up, made-up and shoved on stage for us to ooh and aah over. It didn't feel adorable to me. It felt manufactured.

I know I'm a scrooge, a grouch, and an all-around kill-joy. I realize that recitals aren't about pleasing the parents; they're about the kids. And admittedly, all of them seemed to have a ball. Still, if it were up to me, I much prefer the modest auditorium and simple Danskin leotards — the kind of recital where the most important thing is just watching the kids dance. 

http://westport.patch.com/articles/its-show-time

Geography Wars

My latest column for Westport Patch:

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Why is it still cool to dis the 'burbs?

I was at a brunch at a friend's house in the city the other day when a rude woman made the most obnoxious comment. Someone was talking about how Dubai was an awful place to live because the people were shallow, the city had no culture and was all about shopping.

Rude Woman said gleefully, "That's how I feel about the suburbs!"

Yes, she knew that my family and I live happily in Westport. It was brunch with just three families, so I'm pretty sure Rude Woman didn't happen to just forget we were just across the table from the croissants and bacon.

I was so tempted to call her out, to let her know that her remark hadn't slipped by unnoticed and that, yes, she was offensive. Some people seem to think that it's acceptable to slip rude and insulting comments into a convivial conversation, passing it off as humor.

I'd have to argue otherwise.

The suburbs are always the brunt of the joke and I'm tired of it. Inevitably, the outlying areas are always considered less cool than their more crowded counterparts. I've lived in both dense urban areas like Manhattan and L.A. and sleepier 'burbs — so I've seen both ways of life.

I've had my fill of urban condescension, of the knowing looks between city-dwellers that conveys the silent message: The poor things. They buy their clothes at Wal-Mart and consider McDonald's a restaurant! Oh, if only they knew what life is like in the grown-up world.

This geographical culture war reminds me of how San Francisco considers itself superior to Los Angeles, and New York turns down its nose on New Jersey. It reminds me of how Sarah Palin draws lines in the sand, defining some states and locations as "good, hard working America" and others as hotbeds of evils like liberalism and media elite. Enough, already.

So let's set the record straight, shall we? We actually do have restaurants way out here in the wilds of Connecticut. Pretty decent ones. The New York Times has even trekked way out to the boonies to review some. Imagine that! I get to sample all the best eateries in town each week for this very Web site and I still haven't eaten everywhere worth trying.

And yes, we do have some cultural stimulation. Every night in the summer, for instance, we have live music on Jesup Green. There's jazz, classical, contemporary – anything you could possibly want. It's free and we don't have to stand in line for 10 hours to get tickets. Then there's our playhouse, which has theater that I'd argue rivals New York's, with top-notch directors, playwrights and actors such as Gene Wilder, Richard Dreyfuss, Paul Newman, and Julia Roberts. Just think of it as really off-Broadway, but with convenient parking.

And while we're breaking it down, doesn't Manhattan now have Target, Sears and Costco -- virtual suburban icons? Oh, and I do believe there is a Chuck E. Cheese right off 125^th Street. Explain thatone. Add that to the rodent problem and persistent cab smog and you're not feeling so superior now, are you, Rude Woman?

The truth is, you can live in the city and never do anything other than eat take-out on the couch in front of reality TV. And you can live in the suburbs and do just the opposite.

I'd argue that in a place like Westport, we have the best of both worlds. We can head to Manhattan for a night or two and go to Lincoln Center or Per Se, if we planned a year in advance. And then we come home and spend our weekends riding bikes, tending our vegetable gardens, and relaxing on our own beach (without spending four hours on the L.I.E. to get there). 

So, New Yorkers, don't feel too bad for us out here in Connecticut. We've got it better than you think. Then again, maybe we'd rather you continue to believe it a shallow, cultural wasteland, so no one else will get the bright idea to move out here.

Especially Rude Woman.

http://westport.patch.com/articles/geography-wars