There are a lot of names that flash across the tabloid conscience, and while they all milk their fifteen minutes, we can, for the most part, recognize the foundation of their fame. Not that there is a discernable relevance to these figures in relation to our own trials and tribulations, but watching the rise and fall of public figures can sometimes add humor to our own life experiences. Some of us can relate to the unfortunate relationship a certain intern held with a person in high powerful office. Others can sympathize with a celebrity's addictions. We read "US Weekly" and "InTouch" to form a connection with those in the spotlight; similarities can bind us to our most beloved Hollywood figures.
There is also a type of celebrity that cause instantaneous disdain, derision, and disgust: the "why-are-they-famous ?" celebrity. Not knowing how or why this person is on the cover of "The Star" can pique ire rather than curiosity.
My case in point: Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt.
They're famous for being on a reality soap-opera that was actually scripted. In "real life" they have become engaged. With the engagement has come Star Jones-sized demands.
They have demanded (and I use that word puriently) that every aspect of the wedding be donated, ala Star Jones. They expect to pay for nothing.
These are two bimbos that have blown their paychecks on night after night of partying, being out at "hot spots" to ensure they catch the media's eye. Now that the biggest days of egoism have arrived, they are left unprepared.
They have turned being pseudo-celebrities into a cash cow, only they've milked the teat of fame dry and the pail is empty.
So like every member of the "me" generation they have decided that the public owes them everything fo, forgetting the land-slide of negative press Star Jones received after her donated wedding.
I didn't have anything donated for my wedding.
We made our invitations on a laptop and printed them, at our own expense, on colored copy paper at the Kinko's. We couldn't afford to go home to Illinois for the ceremony, let alone have everyone come out to the west coast, either. There was no reception, no cake, no limo. We made the best of what we had and we managed to have a rather spectacular day. Everything came out of our own pocket.
My Dad didn't have his health insurance or mortgage paid for by others when he was laid off. He didn't have Volkswagon buy the van we took on family vacations. Wall Drug Store didn't pay for us to get to South Dakota to see Mt. Rushmore.
A donation is a charitable gift, for one not able to buy the given item. Food is donated to starving Third World countries, books to schools that operate on shoe-string budgets. Disaster relief is an answer to a cry for help. Donations are given to a good cause.
For the life of me, I cannot phathom how these two self-absorbed ego-freaks believe they constitute a good cause..
Wamt to experience a day as recipients of donated goods? Walk your fake-and-bake asses down to the Goodwill. That tent you want? Sleep under one in a reugee camp in Chad. Free food? Wait in the soup kitchen lines of New York.
It's not that they are celebrities for no reason that bugs me, but rather, that the centerpieces of the "me" generation are ironically asking that same generation to give to others.
To be fair, you are supposed to get something "old, somthing new, something borrowed"....
Showing posts with label weddings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weddings. Show all posts
Monday, June 16, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
The Four Basic Requirements
Although I was intently listening to what my wife was saying as I shoveled the last of my Rooty Tooty Fresh and Fruity breakfast into my mouth, I couldn't help but overhear the exchange in the booth behind me. It was shocking enough that I instinctively held up a finger to pause the conversation and cocked my head ever so slightly so as to get a better listen. This time there was no mistaking it. My face must have betrayed my thoughts as Lisa asked me what was wrong.
"Nothing. It's just that the table of teenagers behind us just said 'please and thank you' to the waitress."
"You're kidding."
What have we come to as a society if shock and awe is what comes of witnessed politeness. Is it so unusual that someone born in the Clinton administration should possess manners and common courtesy? The sad fact is that it is rarer than Paula Abdul saying something coherent. If you were to ask any sixteen year old who Emily Post is they probably have never heard of that blog. We don't necessarily need to bring back the days of armor-clad knights defending the altruisms of chivalry, but we do need to return to the days when you took off your damned hat indoors (domed stadiums excluded, although domed stadiums in general should also be abolished...).
Manners fell by the wayside after Vietnam, when anything resembling the pre-war generation was shunned and ridiculed. Gone were the days of opening car doors for the ladies (the revolutionary "woman's movement" rendered that archaic and condescending), dressing up for special occassions (relax, man, just be yourself). Things degenerated even more as these kids grew and had children of their own in the Reagan years, better known as the "Greed is Good" era. It became the "All About Me" decade where personal well-being and wealth trumped all. This generation saw the sacrifice and hardships that their parents went through and were determined not to let those same hardships befall their children. So they coddled them, capitulated to every demand, tried to be their friend. The "me" philosophy exploded exponentially with this generation compounded by years of purposely shunning the lifestyles of the "Greatest Generation". Instead of creating a culture free of worry and sacrifice, we created a monster of selfishness, self-indulgence, and tunnel vision. So much has been done for the children of the nineties and beyond that they cannot do for themselves. They simply do not have the motivation to do for themselves.
There is a way to correct this. Our education system will never fully recover from the tragedy it is today. No politician will ever be able to fulfill promises of fixing the present system. But if you take into account the education opportunities of "the real world" and fold them into the school curriculum, the system may have a chance of succeeding. There are a few certainties that every person will face as they go through life and the school system should prepare their students for them.
Before graduating high school or getting a GED, every child should have to complete the following:
1. Spend 2 months working in a restaurant (in any capacity)
2. Spend November and December working at a retail establishment
3. Attend 2 weddings
4. Atend 2 funerals
All of the above address the fundamental lack of social skills of today's youth. Businesses that participate in a school-sponsored program receive tax beaks or government incentives. For the restaurant portion, the paycheck goes to the school for funding, the tips are kept by the student. In retail, the school and the student split the paycheck. Couples can claim their marriage license and clergy fees as charitible donations for allowing students to attend the ceremony. Funeral parlors would be able to offer discounts to families allowing students to observe.
In the restaurant business a person learns self-motivation, team-work, politeness, communication skills, how to count change, memory improvement, and physical stamina. They see what it's like to be run ragged, criticized, tormented, short-changed, and stiffed. They learn to appreciate the dining experience from a perspective everyone should have. If this were a life-requirement then the table of skater-punks crowding a booth at the local Denny's at 1 a.m. might think twice before unscrewng the lid to the salt shaker and pouring ketchup in the bottom of the sugar caddy.
It's NOT the most wonderful time of the year, Mr. Mathis, if you work in retail, that is. Rather, it's experiencing that need for immediacy on a grand scale. Patience is an elusive beast. Every Lexus-driving soccer mom becomes a army drill sargeant carricature: "You will wrap that for me, now! You will find that in your back room for me, now! You will give me a discount on that for no apparent reason, now!" If you think the mall is a scary place as a shopper, then try manning the register as you smile that Pepsodent smile, all the while shifting restlessly from foot to foot to avoid popping the countless blisters you have on your hot and sweaty feet, eyeing the never-ending queue of frowning troglodytes, and listening to Frosty the Snowman on the cheesy muzak loop for the eightieth time that day. For two months. Come January, the shopping experience will be a whole new ballgame.
I went to a wedding once where I counted four people in baseball hats. In the church. There was the wedding where a guy sitting next to the fella video taping the event, at the very back fo the church, fell asleep and snored so loudly the happy couple heard him and turned around. There is an eighteen minute gap in their vows where all they can hear are nasal ramblings. I've seen jeans, shorts, even sweatshirts. Not that I'm a religious person by any means, but I was under the impression that this was a solemn ceremony performed under the presence of God. In his house, no less. Dress up, if not for the happy couple, then for God's sake. This is the most important moment in most people's lives; dressing for the occassion is not asking much. If anything, you are in house of God, remove your damned hat! This is the chance to learn quiet respect, dignity in a formal setting, the importance of personal appearance, and selfless attention.
But we'll skip the reception. The less people who learn how to do the Electric Slide the better off we are as a nation.
It doesn't matter what movie you watch, someone dies, everyone takes off their hat. We mimic hollywood in so many aspects of our lives, so why not this? Wear something black (although other colors may signify mourning in other cultures, so be aware), conservative, and clean. Black jeans are not a viable substitute for black pants. Do not wear Raiders gear. Do not wear sunglasses unless you are immediate immediate family or Jack Nicholson. Do not bring a cell phone, pager, Game Boy, BlackBerry, or any blue-tooth item (this goes for weddings as well). Learn about the feelings and emotions of others. Learn to express grief. Learn to respect the grieving of others. Realize your own mortality.
We've all experienced these events, whether it be going out to dinner or buying a gift for Mom. We've either seen someone we know get married or had a relative pass away, and if not, we know we will at some point in our lives. We had better be prepared for it, because judging from my own experiences, we've prepared for these things as well as we prepared for Hurricane Katrina.
So it was a great head-turner when I head those two simple but oh-so-mature words in a crowded pancake house:
"thank you", from the mouths of babes.
"See, it's not too late," I said to my wife, sipping my coffee through a smile.
"They're probably Canadian....."
this blog may also be viewed at:
www.myspace.com/mcmuppet
don't forget to read Chicken's blog at:
www.myspace.com/chickenlovesmillie
"Nothing. It's just that the table of teenagers behind us just said 'please and thank you' to the waitress."
"You're kidding."
What have we come to as a society if shock and awe is what comes of witnessed politeness. Is it so unusual that someone born in the Clinton administration should possess manners and common courtesy? The sad fact is that it is rarer than Paula Abdul saying something coherent. If you were to ask any sixteen year old who Emily Post is they probably have never heard of that blog. We don't necessarily need to bring back the days of armor-clad knights defending the altruisms of chivalry, but we do need to return to the days when you took off your damned hat indoors (domed stadiums excluded, although domed stadiums in general should also be abolished...).
Manners fell by the wayside after Vietnam, when anything resembling the pre-war generation was shunned and ridiculed. Gone were the days of opening car doors for the ladies (the revolutionary "woman's movement" rendered that archaic and condescending), dressing up for special occassions (relax, man, just be yourself). Things degenerated even more as these kids grew and had children of their own in the Reagan years, better known as the "Greed is Good" era. It became the "All About Me" decade where personal well-being and wealth trumped all. This generation saw the sacrifice and hardships that their parents went through and were determined not to let those same hardships befall their children. So they coddled them, capitulated to every demand, tried to be their friend. The "me" philosophy exploded exponentially with this generation compounded by years of purposely shunning the lifestyles of the "Greatest Generation". Instead of creating a culture free of worry and sacrifice, we created a monster of selfishness, self-indulgence, and tunnel vision. So much has been done for the children of the nineties and beyond that they cannot do for themselves. They simply do not have the motivation to do for themselves.
There is a way to correct this. Our education system will never fully recover from the tragedy it is today. No politician will ever be able to fulfill promises of fixing the present system. But if you take into account the education opportunities of "the real world" and fold them into the school curriculum, the system may have a chance of succeeding. There are a few certainties that every person will face as they go through life and the school system should prepare their students for them.
Before graduating high school or getting a GED, every child should have to complete the following:
1. Spend 2 months working in a restaurant (in any capacity)
2. Spend November and December working at a retail establishment
3. Attend 2 weddings
4. Atend 2 funerals
All of the above address the fundamental lack of social skills of today's youth. Businesses that participate in a school-sponsored program receive tax beaks or government incentives. For the restaurant portion, the paycheck goes to the school for funding, the tips are kept by the student. In retail, the school and the student split the paycheck. Couples can claim their marriage license and clergy fees as charitible donations for allowing students to attend the ceremony. Funeral parlors would be able to offer discounts to families allowing students to observe.
In the restaurant business a person learns self-motivation, team-work, politeness, communication skills, how to count change, memory improvement, and physical stamina. They see what it's like to be run ragged, criticized, tormented, short-changed, and stiffed. They learn to appreciate the dining experience from a perspective everyone should have. If this were a life-requirement then the table of skater-punks crowding a booth at the local Denny's at 1 a.m. might think twice before unscrewng the lid to the salt shaker and pouring ketchup in the bottom of the sugar caddy.
It's NOT the most wonderful time of the year, Mr. Mathis, if you work in retail, that is. Rather, it's experiencing that need for immediacy on a grand scale. Patience is an elusive beast. Every Lexus-driving soccer mom becomes a army drill sargeant carricature: "You will wrap that for me, now! You will find that in your back room for me, now! You will give me a discount on that for no apparent reason, now!" If you think the mall is a scary place as a shopper, then try manning the register as you smile that Pepsodent smile, all the while shifting restlessly from foot to foot to avoid popping the countless blisters you have on your hot and sweaty feet, eyeing the never-ending queue of frowning troglodytes, and listening to Frosty the Snowman on the cheesy muzak loop for the eightieth time that day. For two months. Come January, the shopping experience will be a whole new ballgame.
I went to a wedding once where I counted four people in baseball hats. In the church. There was the wedding where a guy sitting next to the fella video taping the event, at the very back fo the church, fell asleep and snored so loudly the happy couple heard him and turned around. There is an eighteen minute gap in their vows where all they can hear are nasal ramblings. I've seen jeans, shorts, even sweatshirts. Not that I'm a religious person by any means, but I was under the impression that this was a solemn ceremony performed under the presence of God. In his house, no less. Dress up, if not for the happy couple, then for God's sake. This is the most important moment in most people's lives; dressing for the occassion is not asking much. If anything, you are in house of God, remove your damned hat! This is the chance to learn quiet respect, dignity in a formal setting, the importance of personal appearance, and selfless attention.
But we'll skip the reception. The less people who learn how to do the Electric Slide the better off we are as a nation.
It doesn't matter what movie you watch, someone dies, everyone takes off their hat. We mimic hollywood in so many aspects of our lives, so why not this? Wear something black (although other colors may signify mourning in other cultures, so be aware), conservative, and clean. Black jeans are not a viable substitute for black pants. Do not wear Raiders gear. Do not wear sunglasses unless you are immediate immediate family or Jack Nicholson. Do not bring a cell phone, pager, Game Boy, BlackBerry, or any blue-tooth item (this goes for weddings as well). Learn about the feelings and emotions of others. Learn to express grief. Learn to respect the grieving of others. Realize your own mortality.
We've all experienced these events, whether it be going out to dinner or buying a gift for Mom. We've either seen someone we know get married or had a relative pass away, and if not, we know we will at some point in our lives. We had better be prepared for it, because judging from my own experiences, we've prepared for these things as well as we prepared for Hurricane Katrina.
So it was a great head-turner when I head those two simple but oh-so-mature words in a crowded pancake house:
"thank you", from the mouths of babes.
"See, it's not too late," I said to my wife, sipping my coffee through a smile.
"They're probably Canadian....."
this blog may also be viewed at:
www.myspace.com/mcmuppet
don't forget to read Chicken's blog at:
www.myspace.com/chickenlovesmillie
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