For instance, McCain likes ABBA. The first movie he ever saw was Bambi. And while he never voted for an American Idol contestant, his wife, Cindy, called in for Jordin Sparks of Glendale, AZ. He also thought that Dennis Haysbert on 24 made the best president and his favorite superhero is Batman.

Obama loves watching SpongeBob with his kids, thought Jeff Bridges in The Contender was the best president, watched M*A*S*H growing up, listens to blues, R&B and African dance music, and he likes Spider-Man.

The future of the free world didn’t hinge on the answers the men gave and didn’t give any insight to how either might govern, so why do such an interview?

In this day and age of 24/7 news coverage, image is more important than ever. It used to be that politicians were afraid to go on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart or Saturday Night Live, now it’s mandatory stop to pick up some street cred. I’m sure they have handlers telling them, “You have to connect with the people. Voters have to see you as not only able to feel their pain, but as hip.”

While the fluff is fun, there is a down side to it. What if there is a perfectly strong, able leader out there, who could expertly navigate our country through the rough waters ahead, better than McCain or Obama? There probably is one out there, but he or she most likely isn’t photogenic, dynamic or lacks comic timing (along with money-that’s the most important ingredient). It’s sad to say that our population prefers style over substance and a politician who can’t roll with the flow and deliver one-liners on faux-news programs doesn’t have a chance of winning.

Here’s a scary thought. What if a voter reads the EW interview and says, “Hey, I like SpongeBob, too. Obama’s all right!” or “I’m a Batman fan, also. McCain. I’m voting for you.” I would hope no one would make the important decision of who to vote for based on the article, but I’m sure there are those out there. Only their reasoning wouldn’t be as transparent as what I wrote above. It would sound more like, “There’s some reason I don’t like that guy. I don’t what it is. I just have a bad feeling about him. So I’m gonna vote for the other man.”

Making decisions based on a gut instinct is nothing new, but it can be idiotic when there is absolutely no logical thought thrown in with it.

The ensemble I described was what I saw a mom wearing when I registered my kids for school the other day. Her fifth grade daughter, a ten or eleven year-old, stood next to her wearing a surprisingly modest outfit, but with platform high heels.

In 2006, Celia Rivenbark eloquently wrote what millions of moms were thinking in her book, “Stop Dressing Your 6-year old Like a Skank and Other Words of Southern Wisdom.” She opined how it was nearly impossible to buy little girl clothes that didn’t look like something a prostitute would wear. Rivenbark theorized that the girls who wore trashy clothing fell into two categories. One, they were the daughters of wimpy, uninvolved parents, too busy talking on their cell phones, who mindlessly pass their bank cards over to the girls and don’t care what they buy. Or that the mothers think trashy-style is cute and try to dress the same way as their daughters.

She hilariously pointed out that on these Nanny-type shows we always see some woman, wearing a tube top and cut-off denim short shorts, cowering in a corner, sobbing, and wailing, “I cain’t get my kids to mind me. I’ve lost control of my children.” It’s funny ‘cause it’s true.

The problem is, parents want to dress like teen-agers and the kids want to, also. When I pick-up my kids from school, I look at some of their classmates and wonder, “What are their parents thinking?” And too often, the parents aren’t. They are too busy with their own lives and, quite honestly, I don’t think they want to parent. I think some people actually want their kids grow up quickly so they don’t have to deal with them anymore.

Kids have always wanted to dress older than they are. But in the past, it seems like more parents had boundaries and weren’t so afraid to say no. Society is urging kids to grow-up way too quickly, and yet is prolonging adolescence far beyond the teen years.

“I tell you what. I never knew happiness until I learned to submit to my husband.” At first, I tried to politely ignore her and act like I was really into the game, even during those times when my son was sitting on the bench drinking water. But she persisted. “Yep. It’s just the way the Bible says. A woman is meant to submit to her husband.”

At this, I couldn’t resist. “Submit? Submit? Where in the Bible does it say that?” She quoted the book and verse and I forgot it after she told me. Also, I have never felt compelled to look it up since then. It’s been my experience that people who are familiar with obscure Bible verses, and have them at the ready, are the same ones who can extrapolate the oddest meaning out of the simplest phrase.

I looked around for my husband to see his reaction to all of this. Mercifully, he was prowling the sidelines watching the game and hadn’t heard any of the conversation. “It’s so freeing when you submit to your husband,” she continued. I snorted, “Yeah, that way when he messes up really bad, or misjudges a situation, you can sit back and say it’s all his fault.” To show her displeasure, the woman gave me a very un-Christian-like glare and moved her chair a few feet away.

The word submit has never been in the wedding vows and it’s an antiquated notion anymore to even have the word obey remain. Most brides bristle at the word and have it taken it out. I don’t know why the woman was trying to sell me on her idea that women should be submissive to their husbands. My thought on the subject was, “If you’re happy with it, good for you. But don’t get into my business and tell me I’m wrong.” Generally, the way my marriage works is, which ever one of us wants something the most, that person is usually who wins out. If we disagree on something, we debate it and try to convince the other why we’re right.

After the game, as we were walking back to the car, I told my husband about the woman’s gall. He said he liked the way our marriage was like a partnership. He didn’t want to be married to someone who was willing to keep her mouth shut and go along with whatever whim came to his mind, precisely for the reason I’d mentioned to the woman. If we both made a decision that went horribly wrong, we both would have a share in the blame.

Life’s too complex and stressful to have just one person in charge all the time. A marriage works better when both have equal say in what happens.

I’ve often encountered the aftermath of such an incident. Who hasn’t thumbed through a well-read magazine in a waiting room only to come across a dog-eared fragrance ad that smells faintly like its former self? However, this was the first time I’d seen someone do this in public.

Witnessing this brought something to mind. Recently, when my husband and I went shopping together, he went into one store (Radio Shack or Sears-a guy’s store) while I went into an Ulta, which sells make up, hair care products and about any kind of fragrance you can imagine for men and women. My husband later caught up to me as I had my eyes closed and basked in the aroma of Bulgari for men. I handed him the bottle. “Here, smell this,” I said.

I love it when men wear cologne. There are some fragrances out there that are designed to appeal to either a man or a woman, and I don’t care for those at all. I like the ones with a very definite masculine scent. There are certain brands out there that I like more than others, but some really have a positive effect on me. They make me perk up and feel friendlier.

Over the years of our marriage, I’ve tried to convince my husband to wear cologne for me. I mean, after all, who doesn’t want to feel perky and friendly when your honey is around? He’ll humor me and agree to do this. But this never lasts long. What will happen is he’ll only put it on when he’s feeling amorous and is trying to seduce me. Which I don’t mind, but I’d like for him to wear it at other times, too.

He says he doesn’t like to wear cologne because it makes him feel self-conscious at work. And I’ve heard of other men not wearing it for the same reason. In fact, right now, I personally do not know any man who wears any kind of fragrance. Then again, all the men I know are married. I guess they feel that now that they are off the market, they don’t have to put up with such nonsense.

That wasn’t the case when I was in college and all the men I knew were single and about every other guy I knew wore cologne. To this day, I can’t stand the smell of Drakkar or Polo because I associate it with alcohol and jerks at frat parties.

After I handed the bottle of Bulgari to my husband, he sniffed, nodded and said, “I’ll wear it for you, if you want me to.” I raised my eyebrow at him and put the container back on the shelf. “Yeah. We’ve been down this road before. I want you to wear it all the time, not just on certain occasions.” He just scrunched up his face, said, “Ugh,” and walked off. I guess I’ll have to satisfy my pheromone fix by visiting perfume counters or walking in the wake of metrosexuals.

I admit that I watch more television than a person should. There are times when I just want to turn off my brain and veg. I don’t really have the patience to stick through a whole show so I’m always surfing the channels, trying to avoid the junk on the airwaves such as the endless number of hook-up shows. But I found a new program that is like a family-sized bag of Doritos and gallon of Coke for your eyes and mind.

On Tuesdays, the G4 network airs its newest summer offering called Hurl! (You know it has to be a good quality show because the title ends with an exclamation point.) The program is a game show where the winner is the person who manages not to throw up.

Five contestants eat as much food (macaroni and cheese) as they can in five minutes. The three top eaters advance to the next round where they are placed in steel ball cages and rolled around like hamsters by men wearing hazmat suits. If a contestant vomits, he’s out. However, the color announcers point out, if a player manages to swallow what comes up into his mouth, he can stay in the game. It is only when he hurls that he is eliminated. If no one spews after five minutes of rolling, the participants go to the next round (pumpkin pie) where the top two eaters advance and are placed in the balls again. They play a third round if necessary (pumpkin pie with whipped cream.) The game keeps going until there’s a winner. And this is the funniest part. The contestants do all of this to win— TA-DA– $1,000!

The show has the unpolished look and feel of something broadcasted on a college television station during homecoming week. The premise is so simple and the show is bereft of any intelligence or redeeming social value. But it’s also goofy fun to watch these trash-talking adultolescents punish themselves.  

I can’t imagine tuning into Hurl! every week. The novelty wears off quickly. There comes a time when watching a person roll around in his sick loses its appeal. I left all that behind when I graduated from college and I really don’t want to return to those days again. Maybe this is a sign I should finally get to those books I’ve been meaning to read.

What’s so tragic is that she’s incredibly talented. She’s written a thriller that, I thought, rivaled and even exceeded some of the brand-name authors you can pick up at your local bookstore. So what happened? There were several reasons why she came to her decision, but the last time she came to our group, she boiled it down to, “I haven’t written anything in weeks and I don’t really feel guilty about it.”

The more I see and read, I’ve come to think that a great writing career doesn’t necessarily go to those with the most talent. A quote by Sophia Loren bears this out. She once said, “Getting ahead in a difficult profession requires avid faith in yourself. That is why some people with mediocre talent, but with great inner drive, go much further than people with vastly superior talent.”

It’s sad to say, but I’ve known others, just as talented as my friend or any other published writer, who have quit. It’s easy to understand why. There is only so much rejection a person can take and writing demands lot of time that can be spent on more worthwhile or productive pursuits such as spending time with your family. And just because a person has spent hours composing something doesn’t mean she has something pretty to show for it. With writing the work is never done. I look at things I’ve written in the past and wince because I think, “Man, I could have written that so much better.” Or “Damn, I used the word media, the plural, when I meant medium, the singular.”

There is a part of me that thinks it would be really great to be a house painter or a cake decorator. With those jobs you see the results of your work and have something beautiful to show for it at the end. And if you’ve done a lousy job, it’s readily apparent. A page full of weak verbs, a plot that doesn’t go anywhere, and insipid characters are harder to spot.

 I really hope my friend, after taking some time off, comes back. Some people need to take a break and reevaluate things. About every two or three months I’ll get in a funk, which is usually spurred  by a rejection letter, trouble with plotting, or unclear character goal and motivation, and I’ll ask the heavens, “What the hell am I doing this for?” Usually the frustration is short lived and I always come back. In my case, what else would I do? I wouldn’t truly be satisfied doing anything else.

That sounds really negative, doesn’t it? It wasn’t all bad. I’m just let down. In my previous post, I wrote with excitement about going to Austin to the Agents and Editors Conference. The trip really was worthwhile. I met some interesting (in a good way) writers and even made a couple of friends.

So what was it that brought me down? The keynote speaker at the luncheon, Sara Nelson, Editor-in-Chief of Publishers Weekly, also wrote a memoir called “So Many Books, So Little Time.” At the beginning of her speech, Ms. Nelson promised to bust some myths about the publishing industry. There was one myth she didn’t really need to bust for the majority of us. She said aloud that only 1% of all books submitted to publishing houses become published. Most writers know this but saying it out loud is enough to drain anyone of hope. Ms. Nelson went on to say that even though she had connections in the publishing business, as well as a mother who would do anything to promote her daughter’s book, her book sold well, several thousand copies, but it still wasn’t a runaway blockbuster hit. And she made okay money from it but not a huge amount.

A pall settled over the tables. I don’t think we were truly prepared for someone to tell us the God’s honest truth. I’ve been to other conferences where keynote speakers gave more of an, “If I did it, you can do it” speech. A couple of years ago, I had the pleasure of hearing brand name author Debbie Macomber speak. Ms. Macomber told us that she once had a contest judge read her anonymous entry in front of people as an example of someone who should never, ever write again. Macomber recounted how she didn’t let that one person’s comment stop her. She kept at it, writing and rewriting, all while staying at home raising six children, until one day Simon and Schuster called and wanted to publish her book.

At the A&EC, I guess I wanted hear a fairy tale. That all it will take is for me to publish my book and sell thousands of them is to believe in myself and all my dreams will come true. As I talked to people afterward, most seemed to be asking themselves, “Why the hell am I busting my ass writing? Am I stupid for doing this?” However, I did meet a pragmatic lesbian couple who saw it differently. “Well, the lady told the truth. If you’re getting into something, don’t you want to know what you’re getting in to?” I admit, they had a point.

After the luncheon, I underwhelmed my appointed agent with my pitch. I gave a snappy, five sentence sales job, delivered with a lot of enthusiasm. “Ms. X, I wrote a light-hearted women’s fiction book about….” She stopped me and said, “No one reads chick lit anymore.” (For those of you who may not be aware, according to publishers in the know, the term “chick lit” is as dead as Latin.) To which I replied with a smile, “Well, that’s why I wrote a light-hearted women’s fiction book.” However, she did ask to see my first fifty pages so I really can’t complain. I compared notes with another writer who pitched to the same lady and heard the exact same thing she had told me. But when my friend pitched to a different agent with the same schpiel, that one was very enthusiastic and had the opposite reaction.

On Sunday, everyone seemed morose. Subdued. For many of the three hundred attendees, this conference was their first ever. They were new writers who thought this would be a good place to start and give them direction. Some were authors who had poured their hearts and souls into ONE self-published book and hadn’t written a sentence since. Of course, no one would be cruel enough to tell those people that they really didn’t have much of a chance of getting an agent or becoming published if all they’ve written is one book. It takes years of writing and tons of rejection to become a better, worthy writer.

I think all of us left the hotel reevaluating what we want and how serious we are about writing.
I don’t mean to harsh everyone’s mellow so I’ll end this post with something positive I heard an agent say. “There will always be readers. There will always be writers. And there will always be agents.”

I’m excited about the conference. It’s always a great opportunity to meet and talk to other writers. I’m also a little nervous about it, too. I’ve worked on my pitch and have it memorized. The meeting with my first-pick agent is set. Now I just have to show boundless enthusiasm and sell it.

On the whole, writers prefer a solitary existence to social one and having to network or sell and promote their work is something that most disdain. I fall somewhere in between. Being social is something I have to push myself to do. Then again, I don’t like spending so much time by myself, either. That’s why conferences are a wonderful thing. The majority of the attendees are in the same position you’re in and they understand where you’re coming from.

I’ll fly home afterwards (I’m glad I locked my flight in back in the spring.) and pack for my family’s vacation. We’re not having a “staycation” as the media is reporting many people doing this year, but we’re not going very far, either. We’re heading next door to New Mexico and we all can use the down time.

So, I could’ve written about Michelle Obama’s appearance on ‘The View’ or the cyclists in Manchester, England who wanted to call attention to global warming by bicycling in the nude, yet called their trip short because of unseasonably cold weather. However, my weary, attention-deficient mind won’t let me. Right now, I’m experiencing that mental haziness that comes right before taking a well-deserved break. You all know what I’m talking about. Instead of writing with passion and clear thought, I keep thinking about my list of things that need to be done before I leave.

What brought this idea to mind is, recently, when he was interviewed by Norah O’Donnell on MSNBC, Obama campaign co-chair Dick Durbin (D-Illinois) made the hyperbolic statement, “The hottest ring in hell is reserved for those in politics who attack their opponent’s families.” He was addressing the speculation some political columnists have put forth that, with Hillary out of the way, the Republicans are now gunning for Michelle Obama.

Now I would think that Hitler or child molesters would occupy the hottest ring in hell, not someone who says nasty things about Michelle Obama. And in spite of the lurid theory about an evil Republican master plan to attack women, I’ve not heard anything negative about Obama, with the exception of after she made the statement, “For the first time in my life, I’m proud of this country.” However, as the months wear on, those in the Obama camp can expect more attacks on Mrs. Obama and here’s why.

While both Michelle Obama and Cindy McCain have been on the campaign trail with their husbands, the difference is, Obama has spoken at rallies by herself, making critical statements about McCain’s policies. On the very few occasions I’ve seen Cindy McCain without her husband, it’s always been for interviews about her family life, her money and tax records and, maybe, her husband’s future plans for this country. Mrs. McCain, either by her choice or because of her husband’s campaign strategy, is rarely seen without her husband and she doesn’t talk politics. Because Obama is putting her neck out there, she shouldn’t be surprised when her husband’s political enemies turn against her.  

Hillary Clinton is the one who perfected the “tough victim” role. When Bill Clinton was seeking the presidency, he stated several times while campaigning that the American voter would get two for the price of one. He boasted Hillary’s background as a lawyer and promised everyone that her pet project would be to clean up the healthcare system. After the election, when she dug in and tried to make changes, surprise!, Hillary was attacked by political foes. She complained about how it was unfair it was for them to come after the first lady and that no first lady in the history of America had to endure such vitriol.

I have no respect for a woman who says, “Why are you attacking me? That’s no way to treat a woman,” after she does something “unladylike”. It reminds me of a little girl bully who goes around on the playground starting fights with boys, and then cries when she gets decked because a boy isn’t supposed to hit a girl.

Let’s face it, a woman can’t put herself in harm’s way, make outrageous statements, become deeply involved in policymaking, and then hide behind her skirt when things get messy. If a woman wants to get far, she has to accept the good with the bad. After all, women in business do it all the time.    

I also try to be an involved parent and as a freelancer, I’m blessed with having a flexible schedule which makes me available for school festivities. When I do venture out of my office and go to these activities, it sometimes puts me in contact with other moms and that’s when I get an education and realize just how isolated and out of step I am with normal moms.

Now, before I give you the impression that I’m a recluse loser who is completely, socially inept, I proudly tell you that I do have a few friends outside of my critique group. These girlfriends are other moms who know me, know what I do, and lovingly accept me for who I am. They are willing to put up with my persistent questions about everything and overlook my cock-eyed views and penchant for stating the obvious, sometimes without care or tact.

Recently, I was at an informal, get-to-know you meeting at a beautiful home with a group of other moms from my son’s school. At this get-together, I stood in a circle with women who talked incessantly of re-painting, re-furnishing, re-wallpapering or otherwise re-doing their houses. The whole time I was thinking that I just can’t fathom why someone would put themselves through such torture. Don’t get me wrong. I envy women who have the decorating knack. I’m jealous of women who do such things. But I simply don’t have the patience, taste or inclination for that particular area of “normal mom stuff.”

For example, I once told another writer friend of mind that if I had the money, I’d replicate every room in my house to look like photo layouts from a Pottery Barn catalog. The paint, the furniture, the knick-knacks, everything. And I would just leave it like that. My friend replied, “Oh my God, me too!” That was when I knew we were kindred spirits.

While the women at this party were standing around, talking about decorating, I listened politely and nodded my head, trying to be agreeable and fit in since I didn’t have anything to add to the subject. However, when the conversation changed to something about the news or politics, or some story that was buried on page eight of the local newspaper, I was all over it and got excited that I could actually contribute to what was being said.

At that point, the moms asked me what I do and I told them I write. There was a time in my career when saying that made me feel shameful for not having a “real job”. Guilt would plague me and I felt dirty, almost like I just admitted that I cook up meth in my kitchen or do drugs. However, as I’ve become more confident, I just throw “I’m a writer” out there and deal with the consequences. In the past, some moms acted condescending and have said something like, “OOOOhhh. A writer.” Other times, moms have told me, “You know, I’d like to write a book.” And they say this in an offhanded way that lets me know they don’t know anything about writing. But occasionally, I find that one mom whose reaction is, “That’s really cool.” And that is the person I know I can call a friend.

To her credit, Hillary hasn’t been the one to bring this up—yet. However, news organizations have “discovered” that there have been occasions during this campaign that when Hillary’s name is mentioned, it’s often paired with the word that rhymes with witch. The media is the major culprit in doing this, but yet they have the audacity to ponder whether Americans can handle the idea of a female president.
How many of you personally know someone who has said, “I won’t vote for her because she’s a woman?” Undoubtedly, there are a few dolts out there who say this, just as there are a few who say they won’t vote for Obama because he’s black or McCain because he’s too old. But probably the majority of the people you know, the ones you count as your intelligent friends, will vote for one person or the other because of the candidate’s stance on certain issues.

Compare this to the behavior of the talking heads you see on political TV talk shows. Chris Mathews has said on the air Obama “sends a thrill up my leg” and then criticizes Hillary’s hairstyles and outfits in the next segment. On MSNBC there was a promo for a show that promised to take a closer look into the Clinton campaign. It showed an unflattering image of Hillary with contrasted lighting and from a low angle, which emphasized her wattles and wrinkles. If one didn’t know better, one would think it was the work of those dastardly Republicans. Instead, it was done by the “impartial” media.  America doesn’t have the problem, the media does.

It’s been my experience that any woman in a position of power has to possess certain qualities that would label her a bitch. A woman who is driven to succeed needs to accept that that is the way the world is going to see her. A female leader has to embrace her bitchiness and tell everyone else that if they have a problem with it, too bad. It’s a sad fact that nice girls don’t get anywhere in this world and a woman has to be a ballbuster to make it to the top.

No matter how you stand politically, you gotta give Hillary props for hanging in there by tips of her fingernails.

When I was younger, I could eat Big Macs and chase them down with a doughnut and vats of soda, then I’d hop on my bike and ride for hours. Unlike most people, when I went to college I lost 15 pounds because I walked everywhere with a twenty pound bag on my back. When I graduated in my early twenties and got a desk job, I found out I wasn’t blessed with a fast metabolism and the weight came on. About thirty-five pounds. With the exception of those times I was pregnant, I’ve stayed around there all this time. I’m still considered to be normal on the weight table gamut-albeit on the upper end.  For years though, I’ve wanted to lose about 10-15 pounds, but this goal was motivated by female vanity, and slipping into a smaller size, rather than health.

However, for the past few months I’ve noticed fat starting to move to places where it wasn’t before. So I decided to see a personal trainer.

I didn’t think I was too far off track. I exercise and do a mild version of Pilates. I’m not into junk food all that much but I do like to indulge in a bottle of wine imbibed over the course of a weekend. In spite of this “healthy living” I still had a bit of a muffin top creeping over my low-rise jeans. (For men who may not be aware, for the longest time, this was the only style of jeans available for women to purchase, however it is slowly getting better as designers and store clothing buyers realize that most American women are not built like heroine-chic models.)

The trainer said I had to “eat clean” which means no processed foods, eat a lean protein and a fruit or vegetable at each meal and have a “meal” five or six times a day. Also, no alcohol.
For the first week I had headaches from sugar withdrawal. (Thank God I didn’t have to give up coffee because that is what fuels my writing. I’d shoot up on straight caffeine if I could.) After a month of eating like this, I’ve gotten used to it and it isn’t too bad.

The weigh training is a different story. I didn’t realize I was so out of shape. I always feel like I’ve been beat up afterward. But when the pain wears off, I feel buff. My favorite activity is going around the house with my biceps flexed and saying things like “Someone call the vet ‘cause these puppies are sick!” Or “Someone call the zoo and tell them a couple of pythons got loose.” Or “The police pulled me over ‘cause I was carrying these guns!” If you have some more sayings that I didn’t list, feel free to add them to the comments section. I need new material.

As you can tell, I’m feeling pretty confident and after a month of this regimen it will only be a short time until my transformation into a MILF will be complete.

These are the only shows that I must record, that take up precious space on my DVR hard drive. The rest of TV I can take or leave.

I’ll miss my buddies for a little while but then I’ll do what I always do in the summer—I’ll hit the bookstore. I don’t have a final Harry Potter to look forward to this time, but there is a book I’m anxious to read.

The Nick of Time by Ted Bell was just released. It is geared toward 10 to 13 year-old boys. It’s an adventure about a boy and his dog and his little sister and they encounter spies, pirates and Nazi’s. It isn’t high-falutin’ literature, I know, but there are times when I want to just read to have fun, to be entertained. My son is looking forward to the book, also. When it comes to fiction books and tweenage boys, there is nothing. And in the titles that are out there, the boys are always feminized.

What makes this book different is, I’m told there is a scene where the little sister tells the bad guys, “Wait until my brother gets here. He’s gonna to kick your butt.” When was the last time you heard that in a book? There is a tacit rule in publishing now that says all girls have to always be self-sufficient and strong, and the boys…not so much. Well, he can be strong too, and be a hero, but he can’t overshadow the heroine in strength and brains.

I’m not advocating going back to stories with weak women who can’t say anything intelligent and always need to be saved. But, as a mother of a son, I don’t think we should make weenies of males, either.  

The youth soccer organization my friend coaches for probably put the rule there to protect the feelings of the children and deemphasize competition; to promote love of the game and defang rabid parents who live vicariously though their young children.

This is good in theory, but even if the game is no-score and the tournament doesn’t hand out trophies, we all have a need to see how we stack up in the world. And as my friend’s story illustrates, we start this at a young age. We all have a driven urge to go out and accomplish something. We need to take pride in things we have earned and achieved. Despite what experts tell you, “being special” isn’t a big achievement and is a flimsy nail on which to hang your self -esteem. After all, in a world where everyone is special, no one is special. Wasn’t that the lesson we all learned from watching The Incredibles?

Competition also helps one learn how to lose gracefully. By losing a ball game, where the consequences are small, it helps a person deal with setbacks and failure later in life. This is an important, learned skill that is necessary to be successful. The person who encounters obstacles and picks himself up to try again and again is the one who will ultimately succeed because the world won’t deny someone who refuses to give up.  As a writer, that skill is essential when you are constantly faced with a mailbox full of rejection letters.

It can be argued that competitive sports puts too much pressure on kids. To those people I would say that children are already exposed to exceeding pressure leading up to the TAKS test. Children have stomach aches, headaches and insomnia and other symptoms of test anxiety before the test because so much emphasis is placed on it. Believe me, when it comes to the TAKS, the schools definitely keep score.

My friend told me that he wasn’t sure what age the teams started tracking winners and losers. However, it doesn’t matter. No matter what, the kids will keep score anyway.

It seems like every magazine must have a “green” or Earth Day issue these days. My favorite story on this subject is about the New York Times Magazine which just published its first “green issue”. It called itself a “low-carbon catalog” and dispersed bon mots for living an environmentally conscious life. The only thing is, according to foliomag.com, the magazine wasn’t printed on recycled paper. The magazine’s editor, Gerald Marzorati was quoted as saying, “Our printing is a very particular method, and these machines use a very old, not terribly good paper stock. It just wasn’t feasible…”   

National Geographic has two lovely magazines, one for kids and the adult one which is familiar to everyone. The National Geographic society didn’t produce a green issue but the network has been beating the loudest drum on global warming. The Nat Geo network has aired fascinating programs such as The Human Footprint which shows how much food, clothing, water and energy a person uses in a lifetime and then makes you feel guilty for being a greedy consumer of the Earth’s resources. When I use the word fascinating to describe the show, I’m not being snarky. It was truly interesting, but I got tired of being preached to.

Now one would think that the people who promoted this program would be behind recycling. But the thing about the Nat Geo mags is that they aren’t printed on recycled paper, either and on their website, which features a green guide, they answer the question of what one does with old issues by suggesting that people donate them to prisons, nursing homes and libraries. Recycling past magazines doesn’t appear to be an option as far as National Geographic is concerned.

Two notable magazines, out of the many green issue publications, were Time and Vanity Fair. But you didn’t have to be a subscriber to these titles to know that they were putting out special Earth Day issues. You could have watched television. Much was made of the Time cover which featured a replica of the iconic Iwo Jima picture, only instead of an American flag, the soldiers hoisted a redwood tree in the air. Morning news shows breathlessly announced that this was the first time in the magazine’s history that the red border that has always framed the cover was turned green! Vanity Fair’s green issue featured many hand-wringing articles on how we simply must “do something.” But then doesn’t that describe every single green issue publication?

All of this enviromania isn’t going to go away anytime soon. In early August, Positively Green magazine will launch its inaugural issue. It will fill the niche market of women who want to live a more eco-conscious life and will have features on fashion, gossip (can one gossip greenly?), home décor, and juggling work and children.
 
Do all of the doomsday articles in these magazines help the environment? No. Do they make people more aware of environmental problems? I suppose, but then again, who hasn’t heard of global warming? The magazines are preaching to the choir but not providing solutions.