June Cleaver I Ain’t

Several times in the last few days I’ve heard a variety of men complain that their wives don’t cook or bake; particularly they don’t cook “like my mother used to.” Now ain’t that somethin’.

“My mother’s kitchen always smelled like baked bread (or cookies or meatloaf, blah blah blah).” Have men given any consideration to the idea that maybe their wives don’t cook because they’re tired of being compared to mama? One woman’s story is that she had to make chicken soup like his mother made: cook the chicken in a pot of water, remove the chicken, pour the water/broth over noodles and voila, chicken soup with chicken on the side. She tried adding leftover shredded chicken in the broth one time and was told she had RUINED the soup.

I blame June Cleaver for this. Leave It To Beaver was quite popular in the 50s and 60s, what with the Beaver’s brushes with trouble and the iconic middle class lifestyle, it was a hit with even the men. Who could resist a wife who was always impeccable in the dresses and high heels she wore around the house, which was always perfectly clean and neat and always a full course meal ready on the stove?

Women in the 40s, 50s and 60s, by and large, stayed home with their children. Not all of them of course, but perhaps many of those that did became proficient at cooking, cleaning and sewing. Once they had spoiled their darlings with home cooked meals and fresh desserts, they turned them loose into an economy where women needed to work in order to make ends meet.

For a lot of years we women have tried to do it all. We worked full or part time, came home and picked up the dirty clothes, threw a load in the washer, started supper, made the bed, vacuumed the carpets, swept the floor, checked dinner, washed and dried the dishes after, sat down for ten minutes, then went to bed and started all over the next day. And that’s before the kids came along.

However, after ten or twenty years of trying to be super woman and being compared to how mama used to do it, many of us have given up. I have had my share of boyfriends and husbands (current one excluded) who criticized my cooking because it wasn’t like his mother used to make. Fortunately my husband’s mother was not known for her cooking skills. I do cook and bake, and I’m pretty good at it if I do say so myself. Contrary to popular opinion, just because I spend many of my mealtimes at Meeder’s doesn’t mean I am unable to put a meal on the table myself. It just means I simply haven’t the time.

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Dear Politician

Are you stupid, or just incredibly arrogant? What kind of representatives of our government have we elected? Are you not aware that everything you do, say, post or send on the Internet is open to public scrutiny? Facebook, Twitter, Google Buzz and blogs are not private.

Another elected official bites the dust in Rep. Anthony Weiner, from New York (why are they always from New York?), who admitted he sent lewd photos on the Internet to women he had never met. I particularly love the headline, “Weiner admits he sent lewd picture; won’t quit.” That’s probably truer than we know.

What are these people thinking? They must know they’re going to get caught sooner or later. Do they not care? Are they trying to get caught? What goes through their minds? I certainly don’t know.

There isn’t a one of us who doesn’t have some sort of skeleton in our closet. But most of us aren’t exposed to the revealing light of the new media, and who would care anyway outside of our own little circle of friends and relatives. Gone are the days of public figures being protected by and from the press. Franklin D. Roosevelt had polio and was paralyzed from the waist down. This fact was kept from the American people however, by a media that was more sympathic with the delicacies of the disease.

John Kennedy, now exposed as having multiple affairs, was portrayed as the debonair, handsome young president, devoted to his wife and religion. Those were simpler times.

I’m not sure when or why our relationship changed with our rich, famous and political figures. The paparazzi have regular feeding frenzies when there is a hint of scandal in our public figures. If there isn’t enough blood being drawn from the current scandal, the new media is not adverse to making up some of their own.

So what part of this do our politicians not understand? Is power such a strong aphrodisiac that they think they’re above moral or judicial law? It’s a sad state of affairs, pardon the pun, when one after another of our politicians fall into disgrace over their desire to be thought a “hunk.”

I’m not sure whatever goes on in the private lives of politicians, actors, or other public figures is any of our business actually. Rock Hudson was gay, but generations of women didn’t know or care. Countless presidents have had secret trysts with women who were not their wives; and Arnold Schwarzenegger isn’t the first man to have fathered a child by his hired help. But it seems the current climate demands we be voyeurs into the lives of those who choose a public life.

If we’re looking for perfection in our public servants, we’re going to have to look a lot harder. Nobody is perfect, but our politicians are going to have to help us out a bit and not publically broadcast their indiscretions. Wise up gentlemen. You are NOT irreplaceable.

Shower Stall Blues

Ladies, have you taken stock of what is in your tub/shower lately? It seems what we deem necessary in our desire to have shiny, silky hair and smooth fresh-scented skin is a major annoyance to many of our husbands.

This revelation came to me when I overheard a conversation between men about how one husband, trying to be considerate of his wife, took a shower late one night after his wife had gone to bed. He inadvertently hit one of the bottles of shampoo sitting on the shower surround with his arm, sending it crashing down to the bottom of the tub. Needless to say, said husband was roundly abused, at least in his mind, by said wife for waking her out of a sound sleep; to wit he replied, in that loving way husbands have, “What the %*@ are all these bottles doing here anyway!?”

Indeed, what are all those bottles and tubes of hair and skin products? I, myself, have a very reasonable number of items in the shower. I have shampoo for taking the yellow out of my hair; I have a clarifying shampoo, which as close as I can tell, is to take the impurities and soap scum out of my hair. I’m not sure why “regular” shampoo doesn’t do this, but I’m told I need this special shampoo for shinier more manageable hair. Then I have cheap, store brand shampoo for my husband’s needs. There are also two bottles of conditioner; his and hers.

I have liquid soap and bar soap. I have an additional special liquid soap for moisturizing, body exfoliate scrub and special cleaners for my face. I’m not counting the spray bottle of Skin-So-Soft moisturizing oil spray that I keep on the shower caddy to keep my not-so-young skin from drying out when I’ve completed my ablutions. From time to time I also have a jar of sugar or salt scrub on the edge of the tub.

In my impromptu and unscientific survey of husbands who shall remain nameless, one husband ventured to comment as to the necessity of all “those poufy things on strings and brushes and that sandpaper kinda thing.” Another hapless husband could not understand why “there are at least seven bottles of stuff that are almost empty. Why can’t she use one up before she opens another?” He went on to suggest that a large pair of utility shears could be used to open the bottles from top to bottom and a basting brush placed in each in order to get every last drop out if his wife didn’t want to waste it. Another helpful spouse emptied all the bottles into one, thereby saving space by mixing all the shampoos and soaps together. His wife was not happy and he swears he’ll never do it again.

Now I admit, in addition to the various shampoos and soaps in our shower, I have a variety of sponges, poufs and brushes from which to choose. However, a particular sponge is mine, not to be used by my spouse; although his pouf (yes, real men use poufs) is fair game for us both to use. I used to stock a loofah until I caught “himself” using it on his feet.

In light of the overheard conversation about knocking things off the edge of the tub, I am considering installing an additional free standing shower caddy, although my husband graciously says I really don’t have too many things stocked in the shower. My husband is a very smart man.