I must have wax in my ears

Did this actually happen: CNN reported on Twitter comments as part of their election coverage package? Last night they surveyed what was happening in the "Twitterverse" to conclude that most Americans oppose the Tea Party. Who needs scientific polling when we can just take a glance at the feeds? What's next, using Facebook to conduct the Census?

Speaking of crazy: Sarah Palin is now getting her own TV show!? She just had to upstage poor Bristol, didn't she? So now we get to watch dear Sarah, tromping around in the wilderness, showing us how she shoots wolves? I particularly like the part of the promo when she says "I'd much rather be out here being free than stuck in some political office." Makes sense, since she quit her job as governor. I hope people are taking note of that comment should she ever decide to run for office again. (Please God, no!)

As much as I'm nauseous over the thought of this Palin show, I might have to tune in just to enjoy watching her embarrass herself.

Speaking of the Palins, who can believe that Bristol is one of the final five dancers on DWTS? The fact that Audrina Patridge (who could have taken the crown, er, trophy) was voted off instead of the clunky Bristol is a travesty. This is the contestant who danced in a gorilla suit a few weeks back and entirely forgot the first 10 seconds of her routine. How she's made it this far is beyond comprehension. (I blame her mother.) And that's not even getting into the issue of why she's on the show in the first place. She is not a celebrity. Infamous, maybe. She's a teenage mother. The producers might have to rename the show Dancing with the Tabloid Fodder.

Oh, Deer

A recent Sunday column, now dubbed "Post It Notes" on Westport Patch:

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They look so adorable, with their gentle faces and the babies trailing behind. What harm could they possibly do?

A lot, I've discovered. Looks can be deceiving.

I'm speaking of the deer, of course, and the devastation they wreck in summer time when every garden offers them plenty of pickens. My grandmother used to gripe about her deer and I thought she was nuts. "But they're so cute!" I'd argue. So what if they nibbled on a  few leaves here and there?

Now that I live here, where the deer may just have us outnumbered, I get it. And I don't know why, but for some reason, my garden seems to be a prime destination for all the four-legged creatures around.

I've got a row of lovely purple roses. They put on an abundant display of color about a month ago, and were preparing for a second burst — until yesterday. I went outside and discovered that deer had chomped off every single rose bud on all nine plants. I nearly cried.

And in the backyard, I've got what's trying to be a vegetable patch. I've already lost two huge clusters of fat tomatoes to the greedy buggers. It's as if the head deer calls all his buddies to say, "Hey fellas, the salad bar's open again! The nice lady even planted swiss chard for us this year!"

They mow down the lettuce, shear off the tops of the broccoli. They even eat the flowers and leaves off a patch of hostas — plants that they bypass in almost every yard on the street.

I'm a pretty fair person, generally speaking. And I'm willing to share. If the deer need some snacks, they're welcome to the pine trees, a little holly, maybe even some boxwood. I'd even be willing to donate my roses to the cause, if they'd just eat the blooms that are already on their way out.

But noooo.

They've got to have the baby blossoms just days away from opening, the ones that I've nurtured and cultivated and anticipated for weeks. It's downright rude.

This is the thanks I get for stocking the salad bar?

I've tried everything to dissuade the deer. Malorgonite scattered around the base of the roses. Planting lavender. Wolf urine. Last summer my neighbor told me a friend of hers scattered bars of Irish Spring around her garden and she stayed deer-free. So she and I bought a lifetime supply of the stuff and dangled bars of soap on fences and trees. It looked completely crazy. And after a few weeks, the deer decided they didn't mind the chipper Irish Spring scent so much after all.

Then there are the various sprays. The one I tried smells like vomit mixed with rotten eggs – a combination which the beasts supposedly find unappetizing. It does seem to keep them away for a week or so, but if I don't reapply it religiously, I end up with shorn rose bushes. And the problem is, I've got to smell it, too.

What really gets my goat is that my Irish Spring friend across the street has roses, hostas and utterly unprotected rows of tomato plants, which the deer leave alone. Why? Why?

I don't wish the monsters on her or anyone else, but I'd be more than thrilled if the darn deer would saunter right past my yard the next time they go grazing.

This salad bar is closed.

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

The New DUI

My Sunday column for Westport Patch this week.  Already got an email from a local cop to thank me for pointing out the wide range of things that can distract people while they're driving. But for the record, it was not at all the police's fault that there was all that there was so much traffic that morning. Sheer coincidence!

"Driving while drunk? That's so 1990.

Forget intoxication. The motor vehicle infraction du jour is driving while…distracted. The state-wide law has been on the books for a while. But on Wednesday the 26^th police decided to crack down, snagging people all over town who were on their phones or PDAs.

The sting operation took place during the morning commute to the train station. They set up a checkpoint at Bridge and Riverside to screen every driver.

I thought it was a great idea, despite the fact that my husband missed the train that morning because of the traffic backlog. Driving while texting is ridiculously stupid and holding a cell phone is nearly as bad. Studies have shown that we're four times more likely to have an accident when driving while using a cell.

Throughout the day, the cops ticketed 132 people. Seventy were using a hand held device. Sixty-two were not wearing a seat belt. (That one surprised me. Who doesn't wear a seat belt by now? Is it too much effort?)

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how unclear this rule is. It prohibits you from doing "whatever distracts you" say the Westport police. Most often, that's something electronic. But the Connecticut State Police website says that this rule encompases more than just texting and talking. They advise not to drive while putting on make up, changing clothes, shaving, looking at maps, reading the newspaper. Hmm. No changing pants or reading the Times, eh? That sounds like a no-brainer.

But what about novels? They didn't say anything about novels.

And banning shaving while driving is something I can get on board with. That's an activity probably best left to the home bathroom.

But the make-up restriction, I don't know about that. See, there's a whole range of beautifying activities, some of which require more attention and mirror-time than others. Eyebrow plucking? Eyeliner application? Nail painting? Sure. I'm with you there. Not so safe at 60 miles per hour. But what about, say, a quick swipe of lip gloss? Who among us isn't guilty of glossing while driving? Sometimes you just really need your Chap-Stick even though you happen to be behind the wheel.

Here's another one: How about hand cream? That probably falls under the "personal grooming" category. I put on lotion at stop lights all the time. So is that a ticket-able offense? (Then again, there have been a few times that my hands have been so greasy it's been a bit of a challenge to keep ahold of the steering wheel. Oops.) Just wondering how that ticket might read: "driving while under the influence of moisturizer"?

I just remembered that a friend of mine once rear-ended someone while she was examining....her split ends. (It's a story I never tire of hearing.) So maybe the CSP has a point here with this ban on personal grooming.

The bottom line is, "distracted" is a pretty vague term. If you want to get down to what's reallydistracting, it's the KIDS!

Cellphones and pagers are nothing compared to a 2-year-old who's having a melt-down and kicking the driver's seat because she spilled her Cheerios. Or the five-year-old girl whose world is falling apart because her brother has taken control of the DVD player and loaded up Star Wars. Can the Westport police do anything to help us moms out with that little distraction problem?

Lightbulb! How about if the cops start handing out tickets to the loud-mouth kids, instead of the parents? The fine could be along the lines of a Barbie outfit, a few dozen Lego pieces, or ten Silly Bandz. Hit 'em where it really hurts."

http://westport.patch.com/articles/the-new-dui