Skank It Up, Ladies!

So Teen Demon calls the other day from Value Village. For those shoppers not acquainted with funky chic, Value Village is a huge thrift store. Halloween is the one time of year when they also get new items in - costumes, tights, masks, hair paint, crowns, capes, sabers, you name it. They are Halloween Central for the bargain shopper.

Teen Demon went to procure a suitable Halloween costume to fest things up at her place of employment. She slings fish part time at a local fast food seafood joint.

Anyway, my phone rings:

Annoying T-Mobile jingle!

Me: Hello?

Teen Demon: So, I'm here at Value Village, and I can't find a costume.

Me: How can you possibly not find a costume at Value Village? They're the holy grail of costume outlets.

Teen Demon: Yeah, if you're a guy. The costumes for girls are either slutty or Goth. Or both. Yeah. It's like, I can be a French Maid, a nurse, or witch that basically looks like a prostitute. They're really skanky.

Me: Oh, that.

Teen Demon: They should just go ahead and make a costume called "Skank Ho".

Me: 'Tis the season to be skanky.

Teen Demon: Pretty much. The guys get all the cool costumes, and they can even stay warm in theirs. They have cool masks and hello, the costumes actually cover their arms and legs. This is stupid.

Me: Maybe get a guy costume?

Teen Demon: Yeah right, like I want to be Frankenstein. I just want a normal cute costume that's not a slutty. Maybe I'll just get a little kid's pumpkin or Raggedy Ann costume.

Photo from Post Secret, discovered by Teen Demon

She ended up getting a pirate costume, which was very cute. Still a bit alarming for her mother, but yes, I'm fully aware that's my issue, due to the fact that she's flippin' gorgeous and a burlap sack would still look too good on her in her mother's opinion. Yeah, whatever, shut up -- you try having a daughter who looks like Teen Demon and see how long you hold onto that progressive and open-minded attitude. Those nasty boys circle around like jackals eyeing a kill. What's good for the goose is definitely not good for the gosling here, people. Not until she's 30.

Her costume was good though, very piratey. Her pseudo-Aunt, (previously referred to here as either My Bitch or that cynical Sicilian lurker) lent her some above-the-knee lace up leather boots that went perfectly with it - she looked great.

Of course, those boots have seen more stories than you'll ever find out about on this blog. I am not even joking. But that's another story. (Start a blog, you lurker.)

So it got me thinking about Halloween costumes and the whole gender thing. That's right, kids! We're hopping back on board the gender train! Halloween costumes are very different for men and women. It's like the costume makers are saying, "Hey gals, now that inner slutty girl we you secretly want you to be can come out with no repercussions!"

And actually ... there's nothing wrong with that. I'm not here to get all Taliban about sexy costumes. Nothing wrong with feeling hot. I think a lot of women appreciate the occasional excuse to indulge in slutting it up a bit. Yours truly included. What's more fun than Halloween in a mini skirt, knee-high black boots, and a cat tail? Meow.

What's not OK is when it becomes an expectation rather than an option.

It's not so fun when 9 out of 10 "girl costumes" at the costume mega-store involve you displaying your wares, when you're not about displaying them. Especially when the "guy costumes" actually show some creativity and imagination. And keep them warm.

Some of the names, too, just scream MALE FANTASY! Like Fallen Angel just above, with the black Goth wings. And hot boots. The witch up at the top of the page? Candy Corn Witch. Yummy! And this little lady to your right is not a Pirate, oh no, not even a Lady Pirate. No sir, this here's the Captain's Wench, maties. Ruffled, for his pleasure.

Oh, and who do we have here? Why, it's the Heavenly Devil! Madonna-Whore, anyone? *Yawn* Some imagination please, guys.

As a mother of teenaged girls, I must admit that Sexy Scholar down there causes me to morph into a downright prude. And Cowbell is not usually about the prudery. Come on guys, don't you have nieces or daughters? I don't know why the school girl fantasy is such a big one. Grown women too intimidating? The lure of flesh unspoiled by rivals too appealing? Or is your ego loving the fact that - since she doesn't know what she's doing - she'll think you're a sex god? If it's that whole Daddy figure thing, seriously, go get therapy, dude. Yes, 15 is a child.

And I won't even go into how all the models here are young skinny blonde white chicks. Oh, I take that back - Heavenly Devil is a young skinny brunette white chick. My bad. You can bet that my ass is not squeezing into one of those costumes, that's for damn sure. Somehow I doubt that the Candy Corn Witch costume has the same effect in a one-size-fits-all version.



I was talking to the Radical Bohemian about it on the phone, and she brought up an excellent point: guy costumes are about anonymity. Guy costumes mask the wearer, literally.

Guy costumes are also largely about power or fear. Monsters, psychos, superheroes, prisoners, muscle men, biker dudes, pirates, wizards ... characters that allow men to feel powerful or to inspire fear or respect in others. Anonymously.

Women's costumes, by contrast, are not anonymous, they are about revealing us. They are not about power, they are about availability and packaging us up in a way that appeals to typical male fantasies.

Interesting.

Sexy costumes and scary costumes are both fun, in different ways. So why not spread the love?

Costume manufacturers: more imaginitive - and warm - costumes for women that do not revolve around your fantasies, please. And try to not to be too disappointed when I want a scary costume that covers me from head to toe. And more sexy costumes for the mens, please. Can we get just some options and equity when tricking and treating? Is that so much to ask?

Tonka: Built for Boyhood!

I've got toys on my mind. No, not toys for grown-up ladies, you naughty freaks. Toys for kids. Specifically, girl toys and boy toys.

Gender-specific toys.

Our favorite Big Ass Belle recently posted about "girl toys" by PLAYSKOOL. Meaning, of course, pink and flowery toys that revolve around, what else?

Housework!

Lynette's Girl Toys post brought to mind a Tonka commercial I saw recently, advertising their toys which are "built for boyhood". Yep, Tonka is Celebrating 60 Years of Boyhood! It turns out Hasbro is the parent company of both Tonka and PLAYSKOOL.

That's right, PLAYSKOOL, of Rose Petal fame, and Tonka, built for boyhood, wedded together to helpfully model gender-appropriate play. How precious. The commercials for PLAYSKOOL's Rose Petal Cottage include this sugary sweet melody:

I love when my laundry gets so clean,
Taking care of my home is a dream, dream, dream!
In Rose Petal Cottage, my home,
A place of my very own!
So "taking care of my home" is the dream, dream, dream PLAYSKOOL wants for Teen Demon and the Bohemian? Because they're girls? I'm sorry, but washing socks and mopping crusty bits off the floor isn't exactly what I dreamed of for them while watching them sleep in their cribs.

It's sure as hell not what they're dreaming of for themselves. I know this because of the dirty socks and crusty bits on their floors.  No interest.  They could a Rose Petal attitude adjustment, come to think of it ...

At Hasbro.com, we learn that the Rose Petal Cottage

empowers preschool girls to use their imagination inside and around their very own play space, featuring everything they need to role-play alone or with friends.

From baking muffins to washing clothes to caring for their dolls, girls now have a place where they can set their imaginations free.

"Everything" a girl needs to set her imagination free? Is there no one in their marketing department without a penis? See, this is what happens when there's no diversity in hiring, people.  Maybe a toy kitchen is one thing to set imagination free.  And guess what, Tonka, my son loved the hell out of his toy kitchen.


And Tonka. Here's what their current commercial has to say about our future heads of households:

Boys! What can you say? They're just built different.
And now ... they can play their way!
It's built around what he does naturally. It's a shape sorter - or not!
Then, it helps him learn to walk. And chase!
Then [it's] his own sweet ride - from baby to big boy. All in one toy.
Let's face it; boys are built different.
And Tonka's got the blueprint.

Built different?  (Also, differently*, Tonka.  Adverb.)

So ... boys "naturally" exercise their minds and bodies by sorting shapes, running and chasing, while girls need nothing more than a pink playhouse to serve as "an entire world where your little girl can play, discover and explore."

Entire world?

Trouble with that is, the world they want my little girl to discover and explore is comprised of only a laundry room, nursery and kitchen. Probably she'll be expected to clean up after Tonka-boy, since he's shown tracking mud all through the house in his commercial, while mom smiles indulgently.



I find this purposeful gender-based marketing very disturbing. The unspoken gender expectations are ingrained so deeply within our society, it's virtually impossible to avoid them. So when toy companies purposefully SAY things like "boys are built different" and "taking care of my home is a dream, dream, dream", it leaves no doubt in kids' minds as to what's expected of them. What is "normal".

When toy companies purposely perpetuate gender roles, that pisses me off, because they're making my job harder as a parent.

If my little boy believes certain activities are more suited for him, likewise he will develop the belief that other activities and expectations are more suited for the girls and women in his life. Not only will he feel comfortable playing with trucks or light sabers, he'll also feel comfortable expecting the girls in his life not to do those things.

Tonka has told him that trucks are "built for boys". If I do nothing to balance the messages Tonka and PLAYSKOOL are sending him, he may one day feel comfortable with his mother, sisters, or wife in their Rose Petal kitchens, making that sandwich for him while he's out in the living room watching the game.

Um, no.

Male Offspring knows that females are all about watching the game. He would no sooner expect me to hit the kitchen before half-time than he would expect me to sprout wings and fly.



So, what about little Suzy, careening her Tonka truck around the living room? What about the little boy who loves playhouse tea parties and hates mud? How do they feel after seeing these commercials? Especially little Johnny. Society can deal with a tomboy, but a girlieman? Not so much. Chances are, Johnny will soon learn to keep that shit under wraps and play with the damn truck. At least when people are watching.

Both of them are getting a clear message about what it means to be a "normal" girl or boy.



My kids had gender-specific toys, sure.

Teen Demon was a wild hellion in her day. She loved her Little Tykes kitchen, and her pink doll stroller -- pink is still her favorite color -- and the girl bakes like, well, a demon. But, she also rode her Tonka truck like demolition derby time. She personally brought out my appreciation for that whole Tonka Tough thing, before Male Offspring ever came on the scene. She had a toy tool belt that she wore everywhere. With pink hiking boots. She didn't take any guff from little boys.

Yes, Male Offspring loved him some trucks and 'dozers. Tonka would've loved to have his rough-and-tumble boy-behind in their commercials. He was all about the boy toys. They probably would've cut scene, though, when he came clacking onto the set in his sisters' dress up clothes, sporting a pink tutu, white gloves and pearls with a purple straw hat. He adored the pastel pink Little Tykes Cottage. Especially talking on the toy phone, which should've given me some warning as to the boy's future cell phone addiction.

So yeah, my kids loved their girl toys and boy toys. Not like you can really avoid it. Nevertheless, according to Tonka & PLAYSKOOL, my kids were a bit confused as as to proper play for their respective genders.




Well, fear not - no more fretting over ambiguous gender behavior! Tonka, in order to help you navigate the gender divide, has helpfully provided Parenting Advice for Boys.

(Hey, Tonka, I'm pretty sure you meant to give parenting advice to parents of boys, not the little tykes themselves, right? How much do you pay your editor?)
Anyway, if your little darling sports a penis, don't worry, Mom, help is on the way:

Little boys can seem like alien creatures, especially to Moms who were raised as little girls! So to help you speak "boy language," here are some tips from Lawrence Cohen, PhD, Playskool Advisor and author of Playful Parenting.

Heavens! How did I ever manage to raise Male Offspring without learning to speak "boy language"? No worries - Doc Lawrence has tips to help clueless moms decipher their little boys:

(Yes, this shit is actually up at the Tonka site )

9-18 months: During this stage, your son will be learning all about himself, including what it means to be a boy... you can keep the emotional connection going by having your own truck that rolls alongside his (or sometimes gently crashes into his!).

My own truck? Are you sure, Lawrence, because ... I'm a girl. I'm "built different".

2-3 yrs: This is also the stage where "boy humor" begins; this type of humor--filled with jokes about body parts and bodily functions ... seems to be a product of some combination of boy biology and boy social training.

So fart jokes come from "boy biology"? What does that even mean? Is there a gene for fart jokes?

3-5 yrs: Some mothers try to eliminate every expression of aggression from boys’ play, but that doesn’t work--and besides, if we got rid of all aggressive stories, we’d have to exclude stories from Shakespeare, the Bible, and even history books!

The Bible? How'd that get slipped into a toy site?

And get this:

All Ages & Stages: Recognize that your son is absorbing all sorts of information from TV and movies, including many messages about what is expected from boys and men. The media -- and our own expectations -- can give boys the wrong idea that there is only one very narrow definition of masculinity.

No shit, Lawrence! Media like ... Tonka commercials and this website, asshat! How did they not catch that?

I call bullshit, Tonka. This guy should not be giving parenting advice. You should not be paying him.


So ...

---What if ... all types of play were presented as a choice for all kids? Without the frilly pink or tough blue packaging.

---What if nobody thought a thing about Johnny having tea party with his teddy bears, or playing with playhouse dolls?

---What if Suzy could play Pop Warner football or collect model cars instead of Barbies ... without being called a tomboy, without folks assuring her mom she'll "grow out of it"?

---Maybe then, Johnny grows up to be a sous chef in some fancyass restaurant. Or an awesome stay at home dad who knows how to fix a furnace and connect with his kids. Maybe Suzy fixes cars or runs a corporation.

---And maybe, if that were the case, taking care of a home might truly be seen as an option for both genders, not an expectation for one. In which case, it would probably be valued a lot more than it is now. Then role models - and advertising - for kids would be a whole lot different.

Maybe then Suzy feels OK being a cheerleader ...

... and a football player.

And maybe her brother grows up thinking his sister is pretty cool, and not necessarily girlie ...

...because he remembers

carrying that cheerleader's

football pads.

Yes, as a matter of fact, that was a shameless excuse to post cute pics of Teen Demon and Male Offspring. But there is a related point:

Teen Demon recently found out that her school no longer allows male cheerleaders. What? Apparently, there used to be guys on the football/basketball cheer squad. (Teen Demon cheers for wrestling - because the football/b'ball squad is a bunch of Barbie-bitches. According to her.) But the advisor - an adult - decided she didn't want guys on the squad about three years back.

What's sad is Teen Demon actually knows a couple of guys who would like to cheer. And, she said, it would actually make a better cheer squad, on account of the awesome stunts they'd be able to do with guys in the mix.

Male Offspring was in the room during this conversation, and he didn't snicker or make faces. What he said was, "That sucks. If girls can do wrestling and football, it's not fair that guys can't cheer. That's just dumb."

No, son, it's not fair, and it is dumb. I'm glad the kids were bothered by this, rather than thinking "cheerleading's for girls". If it were up to Hasbro, however, that would've been a different conversation.

And that's what's pissing me off about these commercials.

Evolution

I am loving Dove’s Campaign for Real Beauty. It’s a big Hell Yeah for women. And a big Fuck You to the media. Dove is stepping up and actively working against the unrealistic portrayal (and expectations) of women. They are celebrating real women, of all ages, sizes, ethnicities, and shapes. They tackle several different areas, including:

Print Advertising

Please watch their Evolution ad. You won't believe this shit. It's the down and dirty on what we’re really seeing when we flip through the latest copy of Cosmo or drive past that billboard. All women and young girls need to see this.

This ad could just as easily have been called Exposure. As in exposing the bullshit.

Women: Get it? It’s not real! I mean, did you see that bit they did with her neck? The eyes? The media has purposely and methodically wrapped this shit up in foundation and Photoshop and shoved a pretty package down our throats. And we swallow it. We end up believing that size 0 is normal, that 60-year-olds don’t really have wrinkles. They feed us this airbrushed, Young White Emaciated standard of beauty until our eye becomes accustomed to this constructed veneer, and we think that real is ugly. Old. Fat. Disgusting. Our fault. We think this based on a lie. But even when we know, we still think it.

Weight & Body Image

Dove is also celebrating women's curves. As in fuck that cookie-cutter bullshit. I've seen recent media coverage on beautiful, sexy, talented women like Jordin Sparks, Sara Ramirez and America Ferarra, wherein the Media Tool of the Day ponders the issue of their weight. I'm sorry, but if these very sexy women are considered “fat” -- if they are even in the neighborhood of fat -- there is something very, very wrong.

That’s the media, right there, honey. They did that shit to us. They made us believe that. They have warped our perceptions with that steady diet of skinny, white, child models.

I call bullshit.

I tell you what, Sara Ramirez ever shows up at my door, I’d be goddamned if anything comes to mind other than hot. Seriously, people, have you seen that episode of Grey's where Callie (her kickass character) is dancing in these sexy boyshort type undies, alone in her little camp-out room below the hospital? Goodgawd! How can anyone see that and not fall down at the woman's feet? Please.

And Jordin Sparks? Gorgeous. Stunning. And poised as hell. I was shocked to see that bonyass, sickly-looking FOX news biotch talking about Jordin being "obese". (Lynette's site) Obese? Are you fucking kidding me?! It had never crossed my mind that folks might actually think she had a weight issue. America Ferarra, let's just say it takes a whole lot of work to make that fine female into the supposed "ugly Betty".

It's all about presenting an image to us that over time comes to be associated with The Norm. After a while our brain stops questioning that shit, and we think bird legs are normal. Teri Hatcher is not the norm, people. After we see her type night after night, year after year, we get conditioned to it, and a normal woman actually appears "fat" to our eye. Instead of normal. Because she's standing next to No-Ass Teri. And we don't even realize we've been brainwashed when we autorespond, "Damn, you need to lay off those fries, sister," Personally, I think Teri needs to pick up a milkshake.  And some damn fries.

It really pisses me off, because they've sucked me in, too. Yeah, I can fully recognize Sara Ramirez' sexiness and strength, but I feel that it's somehow "different" for me. It's not beautiful on me. I know better -- in my head -- but there it is.

Beauty at Any Age

Dove made a TV commercial promoting their Pro-Age line of skin products, celebrating female beauty in women of all ages. The commercial showed older women, nude, very tastefully positioned so that no lady bits were in evidence. Profile shots. Limbs artfully arranged.

The commercial was banned, ostensibly due to "partial nudity". Fortunately, you can still watch it at the Dove site. It was in no way erotic or offensive. See what you think.

There is plenty of offensive partial nudity out there that isn't banned. Then again, that nudity usually involves skinny, white chicks in their 20s. Hmm. I'm thinking maybe folks were more uncomfortable with real women above 25 having the nerve to show their skin, than they were with the idea of skin in general. Best keep that shit behind a hefty layer of polyester, ladies.

Girls and Self Esteem

I absolutely love their True Colors TV spot. It's beautiful. Watch it. This is where I'm impressed. Getting to young girls before their heads get filled with this fuckery. Stop the cycle and all that. They have a free kit to learn how to facilitate a Real Beauty workshop for girls. They're partnering with the Girl Scouts on the Uniquely Me! program to raise girls' self esteem. Their True You guide for moms (or aunts, grandmas, mentors) and daughters deals with feelings of beauty. They've got discussion groups and even casting calls for their ads.

Anyway, they're doing something. Check out Dove's site. Watch the Evolution ad. See the truth, ladies. America's top models look pretty close to you and me.

Shrek the Third & Pirates (in which the women abdicate their thrones)

Disclaimer: I am not a film critic. You want a full review, talk to Ebert & Roeper. 

I love the Shrek movies. Pirates, well, two words: Johnny. Depp. Self-explanatory, folks. So, the offspring and I were all about some big spending at our local discount theater matinee.

I love me some Shrek, but the whole plot basis rankled a bit.

Here's the thing. The plot line was about Shrek inheriting the throne when Fiona's amphibious dad, the king, croaks, and the antics that follow. Yes, I said Shrek inherits the throne.

What?

I'm sorry, but isn't Fiona the heiress heir to the throne? Yeah. So why isn't Shrek the new queen's husband, with an honorary "prince" title thrown in to keep him happy?

Hey, Prince Rainier handles it. It's not "King Rainier" and "Princess Elizabeth", is it?  Um, no. The prince knows who holds the royal papers, and presumably, his balls are still intact. He's fine.

So why not Queen Fiona?

Why? I'll tell you why. Fiona can not possibly inherit the throne, because Fiona, being now barefoot and pregnant, will not have time to reign. She has been relegated to royal breeder. Fiona, heir to the throne herself, must now concentrate on producing a real (read: male) heir while her husband takes the reins. So, Fiona waved from the dock, incubating her brood, while the men sailed off for adventure.

Welcome to Happily Ever After, honey.

Yes, the movie is called Shrek, not Fiona. Like I don't know that. So what. The queen did not give birth to Shrek; any stretchmarks marring that royal belly bear Fiona's name. Who the hell is Shrek? He's just a guy who came along decades later and jumped on the royal bandwagon.

Those are some fucked up laws of royal succession, right there.

All the work I've put into raising my daughters, I'll be goddamned if some guy is going to come along after the terrible twos, the terrible twelves, the teenage years, all that, and say, "Hey, thanks Mom -- can I call you Mom? I'll take that crown from here." Fuck that. You're the sidekick here, mister.

What if he starts bringing in concubines? What if he spends the gold on NASCAR and beer? What if he lets them eat cake? What happens to her family's legacy then? Sorry. You handed over the keys to the kingdom. He's king now, honey.  Ain't nothing you can do.

Enough. Fiona was no simpering girlie-girl princess. Fiona showed little girls that they don't have to settle for fawning over some prince and building up his ego. What disappoints me about Shrek 3 is that it reinforces the idea that once you're a wife, step aside, sweetheart, your main duties are to breed and stand by your man. I liked the kickass princess a hell of a lot better.

The filmmakers did redeem themselves somewhat with a side-story, in which Fiona turns her helpless band of captive girlie-girl princesses into a badass troupe of animated whoopass to keep the napoleonesque Prince Charming from stealing the throne. (Again though, keeping it safe for the menfolk's return)

Other than that, it was fun. I'd have liked to see Puss in Boots play a bigger role, but hey, that's just me.

______________

Pirates, basically same deal.  Pirates = Johnny, and therefore, good. Again, not outstanding. Third in a series. Yada-yada, same stuff, different locations.

However: Elizabeth, through many plot twists and turns, becomes King of Pirate Lords.

Yes, honey, I said KING.

Fuck that girled-up queen shit, I said Elizabeth became King of the Friggin' Pirates. Hell, yeah. Okay, so she had some stilted and predictable dialogue going on there. Who cares? King. Badass.

So, short and sweet: what is it with the barefoot and pregnant thing? Can't the woman just be King and leave it at that? No. She cannot. She must return to land and bear a child. She must also bear the responsibility for raising that child while the menfolk sail the high seas. Whatever. Bastards.

Anyway. Other than that, it was fun. It's Pirates, of course it was fun.

I will say that Orlando was looking damn fine in this one. Most times, I'm just like, yeah, sure, he's hot. And that's that. (Now Johnny, I'm all about some Johnny. Goodgawd but that man does sexy down to the bone.) Anyway, the one exception for me was when Orlando was Legolas. Which is weird, because I am not, as a general rule, attracted to quiet, pale blonds with pointy ears.  Legolas though -- so damn appealing.

It's a mystery. Far be it from me to question the yearnings of my loins. Anyway, Will Turner is hotter than a little bit in Pirates 3. Not Johnny, but very appealing all the same.

So, that's my nonreview. Kings and queens are evidently not for girls, but hey, it's the movies, right? Still fun.

Are You Ready to RUUMMMBBLLE?

So, the Male Offspring got a busted lip at his last match. The boy kept wrestling, too! They disinfected the the mat, and WrestlerBoy had to go stand over the "blood bucket", which is considered amazingly cool in the wrestling world. The boy got back in and wrestled two more rounds. He did not win, because the referee did not know a pin from his ass.

No, seriously, he didn't.

I know, I know what you're thinking. I thought it too: I was turning into one of those sports parents. So, before I lost my mind and pulled a Flying Insane Wrestling Dad move on the ref, I remembered that I don't actually know that much about the finer points of wrestling. Looked like a pin to me, but what do I know? The ref is the expert, right? Actually, no. My suspicion about the ref and his lack of familiarity with said ass was confirmed by the coaching staff and two wrestling parents who are Freakishly Knowledgeable About Wrestling.

Apparently, it was not the only bad call, judging by the barely suppressed outrage of the coaches and those parents freakishly in the know. Fortunately, this was a middle school match, and good sportsmanship prevailed. One coach did have a burning question for Bumbling Ref, after WrestlerBoy's match:

Coach: No disrespect intended Sir, but how long have you been at this?
Bumbling Ref: Actually, this is my first match ... please bear with me.

WTF?

What's that? You say it's only middle school? Please. Obviously you have never witnessed two young athletes battling for the title of King (or Queen) of the Mat. It's brutal. I thought football was bad. They may plow into each other on the football field, break a bone or two, but this is a whole'nuther level of brutal.

This is hand-to-hand combat, people, this is some serious shit. No shoulder pads or helmets on the mat, just your shiny spandex singlet between you and your grunting opponent.

And I'll tell you something else, these young athletes have already stepped up to the mat just by putting that singlet on.

Think about it, these are adolescents fresh in the throes of puberty. They're either smack in the middle of a growth spurt, trying to figure out their new body and how to hold the damn razor, or they haven't hit the growth spurt yet, and are feeling self-conscious around the guys who already have leg hair, an Adam's apple, and a six-pack. And you want to wrap all that up in some spandex and send them to grapple around with -- omg -- another guy? In front of an audience?

Please. These are some tough motherfuckers before they even hit the mat. You put that singlet on and grab another guy's ass while your face is buried in his sweaty armpit. Now try it at age 14 and do it in front of a screaming crowd.

And that does not even address the possibility of wrestling a girl.

Yes, I am all for girls kicking ass on the sports field. Or mat. Three years ago, Teen Demon was the first girl to play on the middle school's football team. She was on the line, people, not kicking field goals. The next year, two more girls followed her. Way to break barriers, baby. Now she cheers for her high school wrestling team and kicks ass on the track team. It gives guys pause to know she can likely kick their ass. While in her cheerleader skirt. So yes, Title IX all the way.

That said, coed wrestling brings different issues. Again: 14, puberty, shiny spandex, grappling around together on the ground in front of an audience. Try these scenarios on for size at that age:

• You get beat by a girl.


• You beat a girl.


• You wonder where it's okay to grab.


• You have a physical reaction to being wrapped around a real live chick. In front of your parents. In a spandex suit.


• The reality of straddling a girl and physically forcing her into submission, when she's desperately fighting to get away freaks you out and just feels wrong.


• The idea of letting her up just because you can't handle her girlness seems disrespectful to her as an athlete.

You see what I'm saying? These are some tough young men and women. We don't have any girls on the middle school team, but there is a young woman at the high school who absolutely rocks. She went to State this year. Hell, yeah!

Anyway, Male Offspring's lip is still looking mighty rough, but he didn't need stitches. He's still drooling a bit. There was much grumbling about Bumbling Ref, but the coaches coached, did the post-meet locker room talk, modeled good sportsmanship. The guys know how they wrestled.

As for the parents, I did hear tell of a covert take-down plot, but that was just a baseless rumor.

And Another Thing (A Health Care P.S.)

Just a piggyback thought, while we're on the subject of health care and I'm still feeling pissed off about it. (read the previous post, if you don't know why) I recently saw the movie Man of the Year, where a comedian (Robin Williams) was elected president.

Guess folks want a change, even in movie land. Anyway, the comedian-president says,

HMOs will pay for your Viagra, but they won't pay for your glasses.

It was supposed to be funny, but it wasn't actually funny at all on account of it's true. I paid a shitload of money for my daughter's glasses, and I am fortunate enough to have "good healthcare" through my 9-to-5. If, however, I were a man wanting Little Richard to perform, that shit's paid for! Just take this to the pharmacy, buddy, we'll get you taken care of, wink-wink!

What the hell is wrong with this country that Viagra is covered so men can get their dicks up, but opthalmology and dentistry are considered, what, extra? Superfluous? A special privilege? They can get dick-pills so they can get off, but eyeglasses and teeth cleaning, well, hold on just a minute there, little lady, that's not altogether necessary.

Anyway. I just thought of that line from the movie, and thought how ironic it is that some man somewhere was getting it up courtesy of our health-care system, on the same day that a 12-year-old boy died from a toothache, because his family didn't have health insurance.

Goddamn, people. That is just wrong.