Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Nothing to explain.

My 10 year old and I had a conversation at the weekend about naked dancing.

The comedy improv class he goes to is moving venue. I am relieved, because parking outside the current one is a complete bitch. He is relieved he says, because 'there are inappropriate billboards outside class, and hopefully there's won't be outside the new venue."

Whilst driving, I am racking my brains as to what these "inappropriate billboards' can be.
"What do you mean honey?" I ask.

"Like that one!" he points, "That one there. Full nude dancing. Why do people do that?"

He waits for an answer. My Saturday afternoon is taking a turn for the worse.

"Well, sometimes people like to feel powerful and seeing strangers dancing with no clothes on sometimes makes some people feel powerful."

"That's just dumb."

"Well..."

"And why would people do that? Why would someone dance naked?"

"Because they need the money. Because they might think that's the only option open to them....

I try to move this cunningly on to, 'that's why it's a good idea to work hard for your CST's conversation' but he's persistant.

"But do they enjoy it? The people dancing naked. "

Inside my head I've decided that until the class moves venue, his dad is going to be picking him up.

"I dunno honey. I've never danced naked. I'm guessing they don't really think about it that much. I'm guessing they do what they do because they think it's the right thing to do for them and... You know what pal, there are things in the world I can't really explain.  Sometimes it's good to consider why someone who isn't you, might do something you wouldn't do. Because, when you understand the "why" then a lot of the time, you can let it go."

"Well I think that's just wrong."

"OK"

He is silent for a moment and I am hopeful the conversation is resolved.

"I am never dancing naked"

"Good. Good for you. I'm glad to hear it"

"And I'm never going to be a gentleman if you have to watch someone dancing naked to join a club"

"That's OK too."

Yesterday he came home from school.  He'd been watching about the events in Boston on his phone.

"This is one of those things you can't explain right?"

"Right"

"Well, I want you to know, I'm not ever going to try to understand the "why". OK?"

"Totally son. Totally. Me neither"

Thursday, April 4, 2013

That time already?

I think I might have reached that age. The age when I'm completely an adult.

I don't feel like an adult. I still react to situations like I'm 16 - get ridiculously smug if I'm asked for my ID when buying alcohol, can't believe that if I don't clear up after me, nobody else will.
But I've noticed, of late, the ratio of blind enjoyment to harsh responsibility has changed and I can see - on some not too distant horizon - a day where I might boast about my age to a complete stranger in the post office (if I can still find a post office).

Today I phoned my sister - 8 years apart.
8 years that seemed a massive age gap when I was 5.
She aged 13, studious, tidy, with the miraculous ability to eat one single Mars bar over the space of three days if she chose.
Me wrestling to make my way to school, wearing with my brothers' oversize hand-me-down duffle-coat.

And then again at 13:
Me, all black eyeliner and jumbo cords (never stylish),  acned,  listening to my Blondie records - She at 21 - all Moody Blues and color co-ordinated and sophisticated.

Then I was 21  and still using black eyeliner. And my head was full of Brecht and cabaret and how to market a comedy double act, and she, at 29, happily married,  unassumingly caring for her young daughter whilst simultaneously striding forth in her career, like some feature on "power women" in Cosmopolitan magazine.

Decades later of similarities, differences, family parties, agreements, disagreements, births, bereavements,  successes, failures...time, I find myself in a place of new worries.  I call her today - tired of pressure, worn with sadness, old in spirit, but in my head, still way way too young.

"Some days I really wish Mum and Dad were here,"  I say.
"Me too," says she.

I am at that time where 8 years feels like nothing. Where differences become the same. Where I am grateful not just for what my parents were, but all they left behind.

I'm at that age.


















Sunday, March 24, 2013

Sudden blog attack...

Hello there,

Sorry I haven't blogged for ages. Here was I promising a blog a week and low and behold it's been what...three? *gulp*

No excuses really apart from it's been kinda busy with stuff here at Tweddley mansions (even after four years in LA, we still find negotiating parts of everyday American life like complete foreigners)
and also - and this is a little embarrassing- (not as embarrassing as Alan Cumming waving to me across a bar, to tell me I had my skirt tucked in to my tights at the back *still blushing*) but I managed to restart my computer and couldn't remember how to get back in to my own blog.

I know. I'm ashamed. And, considering we've started our company offering branding and vids etc and help for people who "want to learn more about social media" this fact alone categorizes me as a complete tool.
But adult life brings with it a whole list of "to be done lists"  and the advance of social media at the moment, feels faster than a speeding three year old at a pick and mix counter.

Anyway, that sort of brings me to my point with the blog.
Two stories I read on twitter this morning in bed. (I used to read newspapers of a Sunday morning, but that ground to a halt, what with the arrival of children and the departure of newspapers)
So, one was about the anti gay Scottish Cardinal being gropey with male priests  - what a surprise - IMHO seems the people who shout the loudest about other peoples lack of morals, are generally trying to deflect attention from the lack of their own.
The other was the demonstration in Paris against gay marriage.
And you know what? I was annoyed.
(more annoyed, in fact, than I was when my "friend" didn't tell me I had my skirt tucked into my tights at the back, so Alan Cumming had to)

Can we all just get over this? If two people are in love and want to marry each other, it's nothing to do with you (unless you're paying for it or you have to wear a bridesmaid's dress - in which case, OK, fair enough).

Every day I go online, and there's some story about the new creation of some 'social media platform" that I'll have to get my head round, and get a password for, and work out how and when to use it, and whether the privacy is safe and I have a little panic.

Every day!
It's in there, nestling between the same old "day-in day-out"  trusty stories:
Somebody somewhere is really mad at gay people for having done something. Some fat, drug abusing, public media hypocrite is cranking on about homosexuals decaying the moral fibre of the world, whilst simultaneously displaying absolutely NO moral fibre of his own. Someplace somewhere said gay people could marry and so somebody else at that place is organizing some kind of campaign to repeal it.

Please, let's move on.
If you don't like homosexuals, I'm sorry.  I personally don't like pan pipe bands, so I just do my best to ignore them.
There are a wealth of problems in the world. If two consenting people want to get married and make something loving and positive, then stop thinking about what genitalia they have and mind your own business.

Besides, every single second technology is moving on and a new social networking site is being created. Technology is now moving on faster than people.
Whilst you've been concerning yourself about what those darned gays get to be allowed to do in front of your very eyes, you've no idea what those computers have been getting up to behind your back.  There's no stopping progress.

My friends Michael and Clark made this video. It's about love.

http://vimeo.com/57651781