hippytowiki

Chatting Over the Picket Fence

Women throughout the ages have always been particularly good at disseminating information (both helpful and gossip-y) in their neighborhoods – across the white picket fence or hedges that separated our homes, at the beauty parlor, or over a cup of coffee. Back when most women were full-time housewives, they shared tips on how to get their laundry whiter and which butcher had the leanest lamp chops. Women met-up in the beauty parlor and chatted about their questions and problems of the day and offered advice to those in need. Some whined and moaned continuously, spreading trash talk about neighbors and even strangers.

In the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, a group of close to 1,500 mothers (and others) in my community used a Facebook-based group to share information about storm clean-up schedules, ideas for keeping kids and grandkids entertained, and where to find gas, flashlights, sleeping bags and other essentials. Some women even put up posts inviting other families into their homes for warmth and power and others shared information about which non-profits needed assistance. The “over the fence” conversation has simply been moved to the Internet.

We did what we’ve been doing for years; shared information, insights, and encouragement to other women who needed advice. I stood eagerly at the fence, picking up whatever tidbits I could, chuckling at some of the quips, taking solace in the words of encouragement.

The whiners and moaners took their negative energy to the online picket fence too, blasting the storm crews for not cleaning-up quickly enough, the government for not giving our community high priority treatment, the other women without kids who didn’t have enough empathy for the plight of families who had been displaced. Whenever a community forms (in the physical or virtual world), some women will naturally use it as an outlet for their frustrations and stress, dragging the rest of the group into a depressing or negative conversation.

However, the women with helpful suggestions far outweighed the Debbie Downers. They joked, encouraged, helped others in need, and shared. Our laundry may not be whiter and brighter next week, but we will have all weathered the storm because we chatted and shared. The iPad and keyboard have replaced our aprons and casserole recipes. But we still know how to traverse that picket fence!

Chillin'

Slow down...we move too fast...

This morning, "Feelin' Groovy!" ("The 59th Street Bridge Song") is stuck in my head. (See link, below.)

"Haste makes waste!" my mother used to say. Like many thing my mom said, this phrase seems truer than ever as I age. 

We are living in an era in which we pride ourselves on multi-tasking, moving at the speed of light, instant gratification, and being first to market. Answering machines are defunct and have been replaced by the Instant Message, Tweet, and Pin. We speak, share, and move at an alarming pace. 

In some ways, it's ironic. Although average life expectancies are on the upswing, we live and work as if there's no tomorrow.

Fast food is killing us. Driving too fast results in a third of all fatal crashes. And our lack of sleep is resulting in a vast array of health problems.

Summer will soon be upon us. Let's all make an attempt to put down our devices for a bit, catch some extra Z's and make that trip to the local farmers market to trade in carbs for cabbage. (Check out this blog on which foods seem to slow down the aging of the brain.)

And then, click on this link and we'll both have this song stuck in our head for the rest of the day...not such a bad thing!  

 

Talking Dirty

I confess...I watch a lot of reality TV

And I spend a lot of time online.  And I am often a bit surprised at what passes for acceptable language these days.  Believe me, I have quite a colorful vocabulary at times. I'm tough to shock and my grammar is certainly not pristine.  I lose my temper on occasion.  But I was raised with the notion that certain words should never be uttered in public...that spelling counts...that "smart" people think before they speak...and that public brawling and name-calling is not cool.

Although TV censors bleep out some words, terms like "bitch," "retard," "schmuck" "you suck," and "crap" are now quite common in day-to-day chatter.  (In fact, one of my own books is called "Bitch Slap.")  The media is filled with assaultive and abusive behavior.  Is this a harbinger of things to come?

The expression, "I'll wash your mouth out with soap" is probably going to eventually fade away.  (Soap now comes in those plastic pump bottles, so the act itself would be rather inconvenient.)  Will the average length of a sentence eventually become 140 characters?  Will we no longer speak in calm voices, but scream at each other like "The Real Housewives" and the kids from the Jersey Shore?   Perhaps this is all just the evolution of the English language and changes in social norms. 

Shakespeare and Emiy Post are probablly rolling over in their graves.  (And someone will, most likely,  post a video of it on YouTube!)

Who used to be considered "dirty?" George Carlin, Lenny Bruce, and Richard Pryor

The first films to receive X ratings in the U.S.

The Bleep Censor -- its history and various forms 

Who Loves a Man in Overalls?

Many of us did in the 1970s!

And, these guys weren't farmers either.  They were just average Joes.  (Not to be confused with Country Joe and the Fish...that Joe now has his own website.)  Flannel shirts, overalls, and clunky lace-up boots were standard attire back in the day, even though I grew up in Queens.  We did, however, have a small farm next to my elementary school. 

Americans are now obsessed with iPads and Smart Cars, over-the-knee boots and fast food.  But we still have a penchant for stuff that takes us "back to the farm."  (In fact, overalls made a comeback in the spring!)  Farmers markets are booming, organic food product sales are through the roof and urban farmers' markets (on city skyscrapers) are cropping-up all over! 

Perhaps we're just tired of all this "stuff" and really want to get back to the earth, grow our own food, and throw on a pair of overalls and work boots in the morning.  (As long as my pair has a pocket for my Blackberry, I'll be just fine!)

Where you can square dance in New York

Favorite farm songs

How to milk a cow

Track your potato chips back to the farm where the spuds were grown