I was thinking this week about how the American Public is starting to remind me of those mothers from my childhood who pulled up folding chairs in front of the garage, drank endless cups of coffee, watched the kids bike up and down the street, and picked apart everyone who wasn't sitting on the folding chairs with them. Which is to say, those mothers just knew that Mr. SoandSo-stein was probably fooling around with a secretary in Manhattan * and that Mrs. Soandso-stein never cleaned her kitchen. (No wonder her husband was fooling around with a secretary, a phrase my six year old mind converted into throwing a baseball back and forth with her, as in, "you kids stop fooling around out here, you'll break a window.")In the interest of full disclosure, my mother frankly sneered on the Koffee Klatch. She wouldn't have been caught dead on one of those incredibly uncomfortable folding chairs. She had better things to do, like say, cleaning the kitchen.
[Dear Readers, the most wonderful words in the world according to my mother was "your house is so clean!" Closely followed by, "My, your children are well-behaved!" There is nothing and I repeat NOTHING my mother wouldn't do to hear those words. She started at the top of the house on Monday, and worked her way down. Every week, even after she went back to work when I was in junior high. To say that I grew up in a clean house and that my current state of lackadaisacal would cause her to turn in her grave is not an exaggeration. I seriously believe she would have sentenced me to ten years in a Federal Penitenary if she could have had a strict promise from the Governor that I would keep that cell really clean. I comfort myself with the knowledge that Hapa Boy is so uber-neat that he once gently chided me about leaving a spoon in the sink. But I digress. ]
Anyway, this week I came across an online poll about that bewildering couple known as Jon & Kate and their plus eight. Now, I have actually never seen this show because frankly, I don't understand why anyone watches this. I mean, they feed the children and change diapers and for a really fun day, go to the water park. Riveting. Look, I'm not above reality TV. I'm many things, but snob is not one of them. I despise when people tell me in that snooty tone that they "don't have television." I'm not injecting it into my vein, folks. I have been known to watch multiple episodes of classics such as What Not to Wear, Project Runway, America's Next Top Model and - when I'm really under the weather or desperate - I Want to Be a Supermodel. [Yes, I'm 5'3". Why do you ask?] But watching a couple fight and feed a passel of admittedly adorable children falls under the category of reading the Christmas Newsletters of complete strangers. I'm stumped.
However, in line with my belief that Hapa children are too cute for words (although they are technically Quapa), there seems to be endless marathons of this fluffernutter stuff, with Kate's bizarre rooster hair on every magazine cover. Which brings me - finally - to the poll I saw this week. It went something like this:
Will Jon and Kate get a divorce? Vote here.
Wait, what? How do we know? And exactly how is it your business if they do? Sure, they're trotting out the squeedorable children and their marriage difficulties. I grant you that. But what is the mileage on voting on this? On having an opinion about someone else's relationship? It's not like being for Obama or McCain you know. Your opinion actually carried some weight there. This is not -not - a situation that calls for a vote. There are only two votes on this issue, and one of them will be cast by a woman with rooster hair.
What's worse is that following the poll is a long, long, long list of comments. Yes, it seems everyone has an opinion on how those "darling little blessed angels from God" should be raised. Everyone wants to weigh in on whether Jon is cheating or Kate is cheating or she's a harpy or he doesn't communicate. Is anyone cognizant of the fact that no one commenting has actually met them? No? Well, you haven't. So shut it.
Seriously, what is this sudden mania for commenting? When did news sites jump the shark and add commenting to them? When Miss California - truly a world class non-event - lost her uh, crown there were something like 786 comments on one blog. 786! Let me ask you something - who cares? It was bad enough seeing her petulant face everywhere, do we have to pull up chairs in front of the garage and comment on her inane little problems with a Beauty Pageant too? Shouldn't we be cleaning our kitchens?
My Hapa Boy has often pointed out to me the obvious fact that it is nearly impossible to change anyone's mind by a post on the internet. True. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, I'm guilty of this myself. I keep thinking that someone actually cares about my opinion in matters that are actually none of my business. [Which is essentially why I blog, and why I love comments on here - even the ones that scold me and tell me that I should mind my own business. It's true. I love them all]. But I can't help feeling this mania for deciding on the lives of celebrities is a harbinger of something else. We have the answers if anyone will just listen. We know the best way to get wax from clothing and we know what teachers should teach. We are such a culture of know it alls that if you're a Christian, you know the right way to be a Christian, and if you're a homeschooler - well, there's a DVD that will help YOUR children. And of course, everyone knows if Brad Pitt is still in love with Angelina Jolie. And boy, do they want to tell you about it.
Is it possible that we could get back to the science of actually living our own lives? And let Miss California get her breast implants or not get her breast implants?
Although Kate should definitely call me. She really should fix that hot mess of hair. I'm just sayin'. :)
* Apparently he was fooling around, because that couple got divorced a few years later. I have no idea why this is relevant.
