Category Archives: Soapbox

Maddie Ziegler and Sia Chandelier Performance On Ellen: What Am I Missing Here?

I’m an unabashed fan of Ellen DeGeneres. She’s funny. She’s kind. She’s giving. I watch her show often (while folding laundry, of course. I’m nothing if not a great multi-tasker.)

But the other day, she had the artist Sia on her show to re-create her video for her hit song, Chandelier. And I was a bit…….stunned. First, let me say, I enjoy Sia’s music. Have a few of her songs on my iPod, as a matter of fact. I was looking forward to her performance.

Instead of being wowed (in a good way), I sat there, slack-jawed. I was uncomfortable. When they didn’t show any audience reaction, I figured the rest of the audience felt the same way.

Nope. As soon as the performance ended,  the audience erupted and the camera revealed a standing ovation.

Huh?

If you’re not familiar……

(1) Here are a few snippets of the lyrics to Chandelier: “I’m the one “for a good time call” ,” “1-2-3 drink, 1-2-3 drink, throw ‘em back ’til I lose count,” and “Sun is up, I’m a mess, Gotta get out now, gotta run from this. Here comes the shame, here comes the shame.”

(2) Maddie Ziegler (from Dance Moms) is an 11-year old dancer.

(3) And her costume for the performance, a flesh toned bodysuit, looked like this:

sia-chandelier-article

I was troubled. I wrongly assumed others would be, too. And when I Googled “Maddie’s performance Sia Chandelier on Ellen” the adjectives in the articles that popped up were “amazing,” “haunting,” “emotional,” and “incredible.”

Call me a prude. Call me self-righteous. Call me old-fashioned.

I don’t care.

I have an issue with prepubescent girls dancing on television in skin-tight, flesh colored leotards, creating the illusion of nudity to songs that describe adult alcoholic beverage (over) drinking behavior.

So sue me.

 

 

 

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Watch Out! It’s The -Ly Police!

GrammarPoliceLogo

I am not a master grammarian. I’ve never claimed to be. I make mistakes just like the next guy. Incomplete sentences? I love ‘em. But I do have a pet peeve.

-Ly.

My husband calls me “The -Ly Police.” (Grammatically incorrect but his point is understood.)

When the weather man says, “Dress warm,” I shout, “-LY!”

When the Kashi ad says, “Eat positive,” I shout, “-LY!”

When the news anchor says, “traffic is moving smooth and steady,” I shout, “-LY and -ILY!”

It’s annoying. I know.

I mean it.

Really, really annoying. (Oh. You were agreeing with my husband and I was…..oh, never mind.)

Remember when we were kids? – “Ain’t ain’t in the dictionary so ain’t ain’t a word!”

Well, guess what? Ain’t is in the dictionary. As well as a plethora of other grammatical mishaps.

grammar p2

The evolution of language is an interesting thing. And I’d love to think that there’s rhyme or reason to the decisions made. But after some cursory research, my humble opinion is, “No.” There is no rhyme or reason. None. Nada. There ain’t even  a  consensus.

What is it?

Laziness that becomes a pervasive bugaboo. Teens that twist us into thinking that their distinct vernacular is where it’s at. (Ending with a preposition. Yep. Now acceptable in some circles.) 

 And pretty soon, we’re all speaking that way. It’s impactful. It causes alot of controversy. It effects us all. And it makes me nauseous. But it’s a moot point. (Ahhh, I kill myself.) 

One thing I do know is that avoiding regrettable grammar is impossible.

So let this be a warning to all you media people out there. If the traffic reporter on the radio tells me to “Drive safe” or the weatherman wants me to “dress warm,” I’m going to be shouting “-LY!”

With every fiber of my being.

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Uh-Oh. Jane’s On Her Soapbox. Again.

We are a reactionary society.

And we have a very short attention span.

And we love ice cream. But I digress.

I have a love/hate relationship with the media. It’s where I get all my news. So, I am both dependent on media and love it for providing me with my news fix. It’s also where I get all my news. So, I am both dependent on media and hate it for distorting the facts.

But media is so sassy. Media says, “We only print what you want to read. If you don’t like it, don’t buy it.”

Someone ought to put Media in a time out.

Sassy thing.

First it was Paula Deen and now it’s Duck Dynasty Phil.

Now, please, don’t get me wrong. Racism is wrong. Homophobia is just plain stupid. But the last time I checked, we still have free speech in this country. If celebrities have bone-headed opinions, let ‘em have ‘em. They can say what they want. And then we, in turn, can stop buying their product if what they’ve said bothers us so much.

What annoys me to heaven and back is the way Media jumps on one phrase, taken out of context, and twists it into something that could be taken offensively. And then, gives us a huge teaser headline, tells 1/3 of the story and says, “the end.”

I’m left saying, “Whaaaaat?”

And so I research. And  I read 4 other articles about the same topic, only to discover that what Paula Deen allegedly did was years and years ago and what Duck Dynasty Phil said referred to his far-right, religious faith. Really? Was anyone truly surprised that he doesn’t feel homosexuals should marry?

Yes. Celebrities should be role models. But we can’t count on that. Just ask Charles Barkley.

And the media should tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Period. Give us the facts. All of the facts and let us decide if we agree, disagree or can agree to disagree.

It’s that simple.

(Yes, I was cryptic when discussing what Duck Dynasty Phil said. I find his comments irrelevant and ridiculous. But if you’re so inclined, you can educate yourself here and here and here.)

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Going All Zen On Pinterest

What is worse than someone blowing up your phone with group text messages?

When someone blows up your Pinterest board.

Okay. Maybe not worse. Because my phone blows up with inane group text messages more than I’d like to count. But it’s a very, very, very close second.

And not the the Pinterest boards you’ve created. And not literally blown up, obviously. Because blowing things up is a crime. And I don’t follow criminals.

No, I’m talking about when someone you follow on Pinterest pins umpteen pins at once. And suddenly, your news feed is full of casserole recipes, wedding paraphernalia or kittens. I love Ellen, Paula Deen and others who shall remain nameless (because I’m sure you’re nice people but you live in the private sector and your lawyer may not have better things to do than sue me for slander.) But I do not want to scroll through 714 pictures of cute puppies or 349 recipes for casseroles or the 1,275 pictures of wedding venues, rings, dresses, flowers and cakes.

pinboard

Who has that kind of time? I pop onto Pinterest to learn interesting household tricks, find an inspired recipe or two, discover the latest bestseller recommendation or glean a clever fashion tip. Of the 50 or so pins I scan, I re-pin maybe three. For future reference. Or, as it pops up in your news feed, to share with all of you. And once in a great while, when researching a topic of interest to me, I’ll remember I even have a Pinterest account and I’ll pin it to a board I’ve already established to remember (or not) for later.

And that’s what I like to see in my Pinterest news feed. A smattering of pins, of various topics, for me to peruse at my leisure. Not muddle through 2,000 of your favorite pins. Really? 2000? When I see that, I realize you don’t really care about the kitten or the cookie. You just want to stay relevant.

And I’m not interested in your popularity.

********

Click.

Un-following you.

I need to clean up my feed.

Simplify.

Going all zen on Pinterest today.

Peace out.

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A Call To Post. A Call To Help Us Remember The True Heroes.

Stop the madness! Quit inadvertently glorifying the cowardly Boston Marathon bombers by posting their pictures with every Facebook post, blog post or every news story, cheering their capture. Don’t get me wrong. I’m thrilled we got the bastards. But I don’t want to remember their faces. I don’t care what they looked like. Their lives mean nothing to me.

Let’s remember these faces. The heroes. The victims. The winners.

The ones who matter.

Martin Richard (age 8), Krystle Campbell, Lu Lingzi

Martin Richard (age 8), Krystle Campbell, Lu Lingzi

Officer Sean Collier

Officer Sean Collier

Former New England Patriots player Joe Andruzzi carries a woman from the scene on Exeter Street after two explosions went off on Boylston Street near the finish line of the 117th Boston Marathon, April 15, 2013. (Bill Greene/The Boston Globe/Getty Images)

Former New England Patriots player Joe Andruzzi carries a woman from the scene on Exeter Street after two explosions went off on Boylston Street near the finish line of the 117th Boston Marathon, April 15, 2013. (Bill Greene/The Boston Globe/Getty Images)

Rita Jeptoo of Kenya and Lelisa Desisa of Ethiopia pose with a trophy at the finish line after winning the women's and men's divisions of the 2013 Boston Marathon in Boston Monday, April 15, 2013. (AP Photo/Elise Amendola)

Rita Jeptoo of Kenya and Lelisa Desisa of Ethiopia pose with a trophy at the finish line after winning the women’s and men’s divisions of the 2013 Boston Marathon in Boston Monday, April 15, 2013. (AP Photo/Elise Amendola)

Feel free to re-post. Or write your own post glorifying the real winners in this horrific event. And post images. Lots and lots of images of the victims and the heroes.

Let their faces be the ones we remember.

 

 

 

 

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Filed under In the News, Soapbox, television

If You Can’t Speak Correctly (Especially To Defend Your Case Against A School) Don’t Speak At All

If you’re going to speak to the press to defend your case?

Please.

For the love of God and your former English teachers.

Use proper grammar.

An Ohio mother, defending her 5 year-old’s right to sport a mohawk haircut, articulated (and I use that term with tongue in cheek), “They seen his hair like it was. All the little kids were going over and feeling on it and everything.”

maddoxfauwhawk

Poor little Maddox Brangelina, sporting a mohawk-do.

 

I chose to use a pic of Maddox Brangelina to protect the little 5 year old kindergartener’s innocence. Poor Maddox lost his right to privacy once his famous parents started parading him around. Awww, shoot. What am I saying? That little 5 year old Ohioan lost his right once his mother started defending his haircut in the press, complete with personal photo. 

“They seen his hair like it was.”

Yes. I’m sure they “seen it.” It’s right there, on top of his sweet, little head. I have no issues with mohawks. But apparently, the school has a policy against distracting attire. And they deem this hairstyle distracting.

Wait. You confirmed that.

“All the little kids were going over and feeling on it and everything.”

Never mind the incorrect grammar. What about your defense?

Lady, you might want to carefully consider your choice of words the next time you want to defend your God given right.

And maybe hire a lawyer to do the talking for you.

(Kudos to Lylah M. Alphonse, senior editor at Yahoo! Shine for quoting this mother verbatim. It made my day and a blog post!)

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False Alarms and Blowing Up My Phone With Text Messages. It’s Pet Peeve Wednesday!

We’re in the middle of another weather crisis, here in the deep south.

Tornadoes. Oh-How-I-Hate-Tornadoes.

But that’s not my pet peeve.

Here.

Read on…

Don’t you hate it when someone sends a well-meaning text to all of her friends, you among them, and then everyone else replies “To All?”

This friend sent a text to all of us regarding the impending doom (a possible tornado) with more alarm than a long tailed cat in a room full of rockin’ chairs.

“I don’t need this,” I thought, “I’ve had the darn TV on all day, watching every new blip of the radar. I am more than informed.”

But then, someone replied to all.

All.

As in everyone.

Soon, my phone blew up.

“Thx”

“Thanks babe!”

“Great. I’m already out. Should I come home?”

“It’s basement time!”

“I have basement envy. But I did just go and buy some good beer!”

“Good. Bring it over!”

(Two cute little beer mugs show up on my screen.)

(Then a smiley face.)

“Hahaha. No! Get your @$$ over to MY place!”

“Don’t worry y’all. I’ll text necessary updates!”

(Me. At home. Screaming NOOOOOOO!)

“I’m debating whether to continue driving to the store or jump in my downstairs bath. What to do?”

“Jill, the rain is just going to get heavier. Get home and turn on the TV!”

“Anyone for beer?”

And now that the threat has passed…..

“Hey, Susan. I wanna see Joey’s pic from the school play yesterday. I know you have a pic!”

“Ha! Ok!”

Are you kidding me?  Yep. My knickers are in a knot. I don’t care who has beer, who is out shopping, who wants to jump in the bath or how cute your kid was in the school play. I want my phone left free for important messages from my husband stuck at work during this “killer” storm and my daughter, navigating alone miles away but also in its path.

Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit.

The rain was a real frogwash, but no tornadoes.

I’m not complainin’ but I don’t need my friends jumpin’ the weather-man-wolf-calling-bandwagon either.

I’m just busier than a cat covering crap on a marble floor.

I don’t have time for this.

 

 

 

 

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