Barbie Vs. Barbie: Plastic Breatharian vs. Brainless Sex Toy

While scrolling through Yahoo news, I came across something. It was like a pretty little train wreck. It was a picture of a woman, which looked like a doll, that looked like a woman. I was mesmerized. I couldn’t figure it out. It was perplexing to me.  I peered closer into my computer screen looking for answers.  Was it a woman? No, couldn’t be. She has a waist that my thumb and pointer finger could reach around. The article says she’s a real woman, but her face was flawless. However, it wasn’t the kind of flawless that a person would want.  It was a plastic-y type of flawlessness. Her expression was, well, doll-like; a cold and empty stare. I couldn’t imagine a person would want to behave like this on purpose. As I read further, peeling my eyes away from the woman/doll abyss, I tried to find an answer to why she wanted this kind of life.

The self-named Barbie with her 18-inch waist and very much doll-like face is 28-year-old Ukrainian Valeria Lukyanova. In the April 2014 edition of GQ magazine, was an interview with Valeria discussing several points ranging from how she renamed herself “Amatue”, a name that came to her in a dream, to how she would never have children claiming, “I'd rather die from torture, because the worst thing in the world is to have a family lifestyle."

She also stated that she desired to live off of light and air. It’s called being Breatharian.  Breatharians believe that they can live without food or water. Rather, they live off of light and air alone called “cosmic micro-food”.

Riiiight.

If that wasn’t bad enough, after scouring through the web for videos and other articles written about Ms. Lukyanova, aka Amatue, I stumbled upon another woman,  38 year-old American named Blondie Bennett, who wants to become brainless. Yes, you read that right, brainless in order to be as close to doll-like as possible.  “I want to be the ultimate Barbie. I want to be brainless. I don’t like being human, if that makes sense.”

Well, I suppose it’s starting to make sense. These women are just a big ole’ bowl of froot loopy.

I will run with that thought process and take it a step further. What would Barbie’s reaction be if she saw these women attempting to take on her persona.  I imagine her hauling off and bitch slapping both women in the face for slandering her name.

Let’s go even further down that rabbit hole. Barbie (the toy doll, not the human doll) was in just about every little girl’s bedroom, aspiring to be like her. It wasn't necessarily about looking like Barbie, but what she represented.  She was an independent woman. She had great clothes, matching everything, great cars, a town home, a pool, a camper, boats, jet skis, and not to mention a friggin Ferrari!  She had a boyfriend (Ken), but wasn’t married to him nor did he provide her with any material things in return for sexual favors as inferred by the human Barbie, Blondie Bennett. 

However, none of Barbie's possessions can be compared to her numerous careers. She had 150 of them. How many jobs does either one of these faux-Barbie women have? The only “job” I see Valeria doing is taking selfies and videos of herself posing doe-eyed and pouting with her head tilted while semi-exercising; completely alone. She uses her phone to produce the videos. 

It's sad, really. Here are two women who could be constructing much more with themselves rather than just a hollow, brainless body image. They say the eyes are the window to the soul. It may be Valeria’s body, but one look into her eyes and anyone can see that the real Valeria left a long time ago.

Feeding Tube Diet?! Stop the Insanity!

     Over the decades, there has been many an idea on how to lose weight quickly and with little effort as possible.  In the 1960’s we had the wooden roller machine, hot pant sauna suits that promised to break down fat, and the ever popular belt machine that jiggled away unwanted cellulite.  In the 1970’s there was the Scarsdale Diet and a diet ‘candy’ called Ayds. In the 1980’s the diet pill, Dexatrim became a strong seller for the woman on the go needing a ‘quick fix’.  Slim Fast was new on the market during this time as well.  Then in 1990, we began to think more about what we should be eating rather than taking a pill or jiggling it away.  Atkins began its ascend to fame in the 90’s with the message of no-carb, llow-carbdiet regime.  The new millennium, brought us Trim Spa, Hoodia, and Alli.  Energy drinks such as Monster, Red Bull and Rock Star that jilted and buzzed our insides with the high levels of caffeine to suppress our appetites altogether.

     Where am I going with all of this you ask? Recently, I discovered that there is a new diet fad making its claim to fame. One that involves no exercise, no counting calories, or weighing foods. Heck, there aren’t even any special foods to buy.  The only thing that one needs to do on this diet is just not eat or drink. Anything. For up to two weeks. Yep, you read correctly. You do absolutely nothing and the pounds just melt away.  But there is just one catch; you have to insert a feeding tube into your body for at least ten days. Still sound too good to be true? Hopefully not, but to hundreds of women around the country, they are turning to their doctors requesting this procedure. This diet is called the Feeding Tube Diet or The K-E Diet.  When I found out exactly why women are doing it, I was appalled.  It disgusts me to even type the words onto this page. 

     I’m ashamed as a woman, to think that other women are out there putting this tube up their nose, down their throats into their stomachs for ten days in order to, ready for this? Fit into their wedding gowns. Something that is as shallow as fitting into a dress that a woman is only going to wear for one day.  Albeit the day is a very important one, however, the question here is, if a bride is so concerned that she is not going to fit into a wedding dress ten days before a wedding, why wasn’t she watching what she was eating all along, and why on earth did she buy such a small size in the first place? It just doesn’t make sense. 

     Feeding tubes are for the sick and the dying. Medical professionals usually require feeding tubes to individuals who cannot swallow on their own but still need nutrients administered into their bodies on a daily basis.  According to the Brown University website, “Feeding tubes may provide nutrition to people who have difficulty swallowing or unable to eat for medical reasons. A feeding tube is a device which transports liquid nutrition to your stomach. A feeding tube can be inserted into the stomach (G-tubes), through the nose and into the stomach (NG-tubes), or through the nose and into the small intestine (NJ tubes). The NG and NJ tubes are considered to be temporary and the G tube is considered more permanent but it can be removed.”

     The NY Daily News reported the procedure costs upwards of $1,500.00 for a mere ten day’s treatment. “Jessica Schnaider, a bride from Surfside, Fla., happily paid $1,500 to have the tube inserted for 10 days in order to look just right for her wedding pictures.” Happily? We have turned into a pretty twisted society when the thought of a feeding tube inserted into our bodies make us happy.  

     It’s not just the patients who have become a bit greedy with their body image, but the medical professionals I feel have become equally as greedy to permit this type of procedure to their patients. Dr. Oliver R. Di Pietro told The New York Times that he resisted the idea of using the diet on people who just wanted to drop a few pounds but then changed his mind. “Why should I say 5 or 10 pounds are not enough?” the Bay Harbor Islands, Fla., doctor told The Times. “People want to be perfect.” 

Keep rationalizing your greed doctor.

     Like anything else of a medical nature, there are side effects. Nothing comes without a price.  If you don’t mind the dizziness, nausea, and constipation; not to mention having to carry around a bag o’ nutrition and explain your shallow reasons to friends and family of why you look like you are deathly ill, then this diet may be something for you to consider. 

Sarcastically said, of course.

     Now, I don’t know about you, but another option would be to just rather put the chips and chocolate down, walks at least 30 minutes a day, keeps and intake at the healthy caloric level of around 1,200, drink at least eight glasses of water a day, and oh yeah, buy a wedding dress that fits.

Can our diets cure Cancer?

There was an article posted on the web recently about a 16 year old boy who ran away because he wanted to stop his chemo treatments. This happened 18 years ago and the good news is he’s alive, and well, and most of all cancer free. He had absolutely no chemotherapy treatments once he left his home in Boston back in 1994. Billy Best was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and was given six months to live.  He had five rounds of chemotherapy which were making him very ill. "I could smell what I thought was poison coming out of my body. I didn't think I would make it through the treatments," said Best during his interview with television station WCVB – Boston. 

Best decided that taking off to Texas was the only solution.  He lived in a warehouse and learned about the worry of his family for him, not knowing if he was dead or alive. After an outpouring of support and suggestions from people who heard his story, Billy wanted an alternative approach.  He sought out ways to heal himself naturally.  He altered his diet that consisted of no red meat, sugar, white flour, and substituted brown rice for white, and soy for dairy. In addition to that Billy also incorporated a large amount of organic vegetables and filtered water.  He took supplements, Vitamin C, and started drinking Essiac herbal tea.  "Taking a therapy that would boost my immune system so that my body could fight the cancer itself made more sense to me than poisoning me with chemotherapy when I was already so sick," said Best during a WCVB-5 interview. We have to admit, he makes a lot of sense.

The interview also reported that along with his diet, Bill took 714-X, a Canadian immune-system injection that he claims saved his life.  This drug is not available or approved in the United States, and has no real evidence of this injection having effective results in treating cancer according to the National Cancer Research.  However, in March 1995, Bill returned to Dana Farber and after CAT and Gallium scans, Bill was cancer free and is still cancer free today. 


 So is there something to be said for herbal/alternative therapies?  Some say absolutely.  Our own NECC professor, Dr. Michael Speidel strongly believes that diet has everything to do with how we can prevent and fight disease. When asked about what his feelings were about Billy Best’s story Professor Speidel commented, “The Bill Best story is nothing new to doctors. For every ten patients with cancer one patient can be cured by just taking a placebo (water, glucose, herbs, vitamins, etc.). Because with a strong will to survive, the brain can stimulate and boost our immune system and we could win the battle against cancer. 

Sadly, however, most patients with cancer need modern and aggressive treatment. As in the case with Apple creator, Steve Jobs.  Jobs refused the potential life-saving surgery for his pancreatic cancer and decided to use only alternative treatments of diet and spiritual remedies when he was first diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.  A confidant stated in an October 2011 Forbes interview that the reason why Jobs refused the surgery was because, “I didn't want my body to be opened. I didn't want to be violated in that way.”  Jobs waited nine months before having the surgery and deciding on traditional cancer treatments.  He went on record with the man who was writing his biography (Walter Issacson) that he regretted not having the surgery sooner. 

Do we really know what is good for us, or are we just taking a roll of the dice?  There is a balance here that may apply to each individual and each individual’s level and type of cancer illness.  Some say that due to the five rounds of chemo treatments Bill Best had prior to his diet and immune injections, were the only reason why he survived.  Clare Shawcross of Brown University posted this comment from the online article, “Happy ending is awesome but, you know, you gotta figure there's a decent chance those five rounds of chemotherapy played a role in his cure.”   

          For some, this is the only avenue to take. However, there is the other side of the spectrum. Beth Martin, a Licensed Massage Therapist at Northwest Health and Lifestyle Center posted, “Had a good friend who also walked away from chemo for Hodgkin’s. She was in her 20s and when her family said, "don't quit now, honey" she said "You're not listening to me. I won't survive this treatment." She also used diet and today she is a mom in her 40s.” 

          Even though the chemo may have had some effect on his remission, the overall effects of chemotherapy on us or our loved ones are devastating.  There are emotional, physical, and mental challenges that go along with this radical treatment.  It’s stressful for our families, and more so for our bodies.   The American Cancer Society website defines chemotherapy as, “Although the word chemotherapy can mean the use of any drug (such as aspirin or penicillin) to treat any disease, to most people chemotherapy refers to drugs used for cancer treatment. It is often shortened to “chemo.” Two other medical terms often used to describe cancer chemotherapy are antineoplastic (meaning anti-cancer) therapy and cytotoxic (cell-killing) therapy.” “… It was noticed in World War II; a group of people were accidentally exposed to mustard gas and were later found to have very low white blood cell counts. Doctors reasoned that something that damaged the rapidly growing white blood cells might have a similar effect on cancer. So, in the 1940s, several patients with advanced lymphomas (cancers of certain white blood cells) were given the drug by vein, rather than by breathing the irritating gas. Their improvement, although temporary, was remarkable.”

             Do we really know what our bodies are telling us or is it just the exception to the norm? Each of us have natural instincts that signal to us warnings of fear and danger, so why can't the body send us signals of what it needs in times of sickness? Some would say that the body does send us messages, and that we are just not listening.  One of those doctors is Dr. Max Gerson, founder of the Gerson Therapy. According to The American Cancer website, “Max Gerson, MD, was a German doctor who immigrated to the United States in the late 1930s. He designed the dietary program to treat his own migraine headaches. He later expanded his method to treat other conditions such as arthritis, tuberculosis, and cancer. In 1945, Gerson published a preliminary report of his results in treating cancer in the Review of Gastroenterology.”  The therapy is extreme and strict by omitting all sugars, except honey, all white flours, oils and fats. Regular foods consist of certain organic vegetables and soy.  Only after the third week is plain yogurt involved. Some truly believe in this therapy and that it has enabled them to be rid of the disease that inflicted their bodies. 

The discussion on treatments when dealing with cancer is vast and greatly detailed depending on each specific person’s diagnosis and genetic makeup.  Luckily, as it has turned out Bill Best listened to his body and made the right choice for him. For Billy, in my opinion it wasn’t about the quantity of life, it was the quality, and he’s now living proof.

When Getting Thin Goes Too Far

Recently, there has been a growing concern about blogs encouraging women to become ultra-thin posted on Tumblr.com. The argument is whether or not they are considered a form of free speech. These sites pose as 'support sites' where women can come to express their sickness without judgment and with encouragement. They discuss losing weight through starvation methods and exercise, and diet tips, no matter what the cost. Sadly, the age ranges of women that post on these sites are in their late teens to early twenties.

One of the largest and most popular websites is called “PrettyThin”. The pro-ana, pro-mia (anorexia, bulimia) website provides pictures of skeleton-like women so malnourished that bones can be seen through the skin. Attached are quotes such as, “I want to show bones” or “An imperfect body reflects an imperfect person.” For teens experiencing peer pressure to look thin and “perfect”, stumbling across one of these sites is like opening Pandora's Box. With key words like, “ipretendhappiness-idontfeel”, “thin-k perfection”, and “fattyonthemove”, these could solidify and possibly justify the feelings of inadequacy that a young teen is battling with her body image.

Being curious, I checked out some of these sites and looked up some of the ‘handles’ the girls had. What I found was very disturbing. Pictures of themselves super thin wearing very little – if nothing at all, showing their ribs and pelvic bones with statements like, “I want to take a bath. A nice hot bath. I want to push myself under the water, until I can’t breathe. I want to resurface and see that my fat is no longer a part of me. I want it to float in the water like a shed skin. I want to run my hands over my wet body and feel collar bones, hip bones, ribs a dip in my belly. I want to put my fingers around my thighs. I want to be BEAUTIFUL.” Another is “5kin-ny” who posted a picture of a ripped piece of paper that had “I don’t want to be thin, I want to be SICKLY THIN”, scribbled on it. Her comment below it stated, “So thin on the verge of death.”

Sometimes it doesn’t end with just trying to become thin with an eating disorder. Sometimes it continues on a more severe path such as cutting and burning one’s body with either razors or cigarettes. One blog named, “dying to be thin” talks candidly about her eating disorder, how she began cutting herself and why, and that she spends periods in a mental hospital. She is only seventeen. Extremely disturbing, both emotionally and mentally, she documents her days of hiding food, cutting herself, and the confrontations with her parents on her poor body image and feeling of worthlessness and disgust. She elaborates in raw text how cutting relieves the pain and makes her feel ‘better’. She knows it’s not right, but has a deep desire to continue it.

In one post she provides information on self-injury awareness day and several links to click on for further information and support groups to provide help for people who want to stop hurting themselves. Self-Harm awareness day was on March 1st. According to Self.com it is defined as, “a day meant to call attention to the disturbing number of people who deliberately harm their bodies in an attempt to numb emotional stress. Self-injury (SI) can range from cutting, burning or hitting oneself to simply picking at skin, pulling hair or pinching. At its most extreme, SI can lead to bone-breaking and other more serious injuries.” Most feel that this type of action is just to gain attention from peers or family members. However, according to Self-injury.org, it is actually a coping mechanism, a way to gain relief from otherwise overwhelming emotions. So even though she posts about her sickness, she is also concerned for others who have the same struggles.
Statements and situations like this are just horrific. There may be young girls out there on the brink of an eating disorder and finding such sites as this may see that it would be OK to attempt. Not realizing that this is an actual sickness and not just something cool to do. One post from “minaturegirl” states, “I never thought I would be the girl with an eating disorder.”

In response to this recent outcry, Tumblr.com has posted a draft of what they will be enforcing within the next couple of weeks that pertain to self-harm and pro-ana/mia blogs. Tumblr states: “Active Promotion of Self-Harm. Don’t post content that actively promotes or glorifies self-injury or self-harm. This includes content that urges or encourages readers to cut or mutilate themselves; embrace anorexia, bulimia, or other eating disorders; or commit suicide rather than, e.g., seek counseling or treatment for depression or other disorders. Online dialogue about these acts and conditions is incredibly important; this prohibition is intended to reach only those blogs that cross the line into active promotion or glorification. For example, joking that you need to starve yourself after Thanksgiving or that you wanted to kill yourself after a humiliating date is fine, but recommending techniques for self-starvation or self-mutilation is not.”


In addition to the new policy, Tumblr.com will start showing PSAs on search results for related keywords. “In addition, we plan to start posting “public service announcement”-style language whenever users search for tags that typically go along with pro-self-harm blogs. For example, when a user searches for tags like “anorexia”, “anorexic”, “bulimia”, “bulimic”, “thinspiration”, “thinspo”, “proana”, “purge”, “purging”, etc., we would show PSA language like: Eating disorders can cause serious health problems, and at their most severe can even be life-threatening. Please contact the [resource organization] at [helpline number] or [website].”


So this leaves us with the lasting thought, are these websites a form of free speech even if it could be physically and mentally damaging to others?

Punished for Exercising the First Amendment

On February 16, 2012, Bridgewater State University student writer Destinie Mogg-Barkalow was physically attacked on campus for an opinion story she wrote in support of same-sex marriage. Her story on Proposition 8 enraged a tall man and a red-headed woman enough to seek out, approach Ms. Mogg-Barkalow, and punch her in the eye. The police report that there have been no arrests and are investigating the incident as a hate crime. This is wrong on so many levels, where do I begin?

I’ll tell you where.

By thanking the highly moronic, small minded, hateful couple. Because of their outlandish, ridiculous, one-sided Neanderthal behavior, has sparked news segments and columns all over the U.S. putting them in the spotlight as complete bigots. Local and national news programs and online websites from the Huffington Post to the Advocate, a pro-gay online newspaper, have spread the word in support of the student writer advocating the equality for all and the right to exercise the First Amendment; free speech.

One part of her article, Ms. Mogg-Barkalow states, “I would never want my rights to be forgotten just so people could walk all over me. If you believe legalizing gay marriage is unconstitutional, I think it is time you moved to another country. If you think it is wrong because of procreation, think again. Not even all straight couples have children. When it comes down to it, all I can say is leave us alone. Why are people so concerned about my soul and not their own? If same-sex couples are going to hell, at least I would be in peace and could finally stop worrying about hypocritical judgment.”

The reverberation of supportive comments for this article from the many online newspapers is astounding. Adam Gage, a manager of web applications at Post Holdings, Inc. posts his comment on “The Advocate” site; “To Destinie Mogg-Barkalow, thank you for your strength, courage, and compassion. To those right-wing nut cases, take a look at history... beating us down only makes us stronger and encourages others to join us. Stay strong Destinie, your voice is important to all of us.”

Then there are the hundreds of posted comments directly from the Bridgewater University online newspaper, “The Comment”. Bella Lockhart writes, “Thank you for writing this article. I agree 100%. I found this editorial because I heard you were physically attacked for your opinion. That's just plain wrong, and I hope they find the people who did that to you and lock them up for it. But they proved you right, didn't they? That Prop 8 just generates more hate. Those homophobes who did that to you proved that they're nothing but hateful bigots. Thanks for taking a stand for all LGBT people in the US, and for anyone who is a "second-class citizen!”

Sadly, Ms. Mogg-Barkalow is faced with the high risks a journalist takes when publishing a story of this magnitude. Did she deserve to be attacked for what she wrote? Absolutely not, however, I suppose the reality of being an opinions writer really hit home, and may have given her a new perspective on journalism, possibly empowering her enough to not back down and continue to tackle the controversial stories head on.

The subject that she wrote about is so strong and emotionally powered, that it has obviously enraged both sides of the spectrum. In my opinion, it takes great courage for such a student to boldly voice her thoughts in print. I congratulate Ms. Mogg-Barkalow for taking a stand, voicing her raw opinion, exercising her First Amendment right to free speech, and reporting on a story that is not just about same-sex marriage, but a story about equality across the board regardless of political or religious beliefs. I feel that it is our duty as journalists to keep the public well informed, speak our minds, and to keep the vision of equality for all in the spotlight.

Happy Meals Equal Literacy?

Recently, Yahoo news had a headline that stopped me dead in my tracks. It read, “Could McDonalds’ become a leading book retailer?” My first thought was, “here we go, another crazy marketing scheme.” So of course, I had to click the link and read what it was about. It stated that McDonald's would be substituting their Happy Meal toys with a book to promote literacy for the children in Britain. As I read the article, I am perplexed and pretty disturbed that the review from Britain’s Literary Trust is a positive one. "One in three children in this country don't own a book, which is extremely concerning as there is a clear link between book ownership and children's future success in life," says director Jonathan Douglas. "We are very supportive of McDonald’s decision.”

A part of me gets the feeling that the mighty Mickey-D’s has lined the pockets of the British Literary world.

And to add to that I say, ahh, McDonald’s, we meet again. Just when I thought you couldn’t out do your evil ploys to lure people into eating your artery clogging, obese inducing, fat-laden, salty sustenance, you launch a marketing campaign attempting to veil your fake foods by luring children to connect reading with french fries. I have to say, this has to be one of the best schemes ever. With past campaigns as the illustrious McRib comeback (gag), the highly addictive Monopoly game (guilty) and providing ‘healthy’ choices like organic milk and Newmans’ coffee (feeble attempt), I stumble upon your latest ploy; trying to pass yourself off as a reputable establishment to promote literacy in children. Of course, you won't just settle for any old book, no. You team up with Michael Morpurgo, to promote his award-winning Mudpuddle Farm stories. 

A genius attempt I say.

But how could this be? You are not Barnes and Noble, nor are you Amazon. Heck, you're not even a parent. I say stick to what you know; fats and calories, brainwashing and manipulating adults and children around the world to gorge on your food.

Furthermore, how dare you attempt to come across to parents and children as a place that provides good food for the mind when you can’t provide good food for the body? Please, stop and think about this. While reading these books, the children will be consuming over 500 calories and over 20 grams of fat, with every book they acquire. Then times those numbers by six. That’s if they are lucky enough to get a different book with each meal purchased.
It's clearly apparent that the only thing that is being fed is the shareholders pockets.
Now, I'm sure that your public relations team would inform me that it is truly up to the parent to decide whether or not to purchase a Happy Meal for their children and that you are not solely responsible for the obesity issue in American children today. This may be true, however, if you took the money profited from this ‘literacy’ campaign and put it to completely revamping your menu, scale back the strong subliminal messages that your food equals happiness, or that getting a nine cent toy that will be thrown away in a matter of months (thank you for contributing to the global carbon footprint) maybe, just maybe McDonald's Happy Meals won’t be so addictive to a child, like heroin is to an addict.

Please allow me enlighten you on some facts (as if you already didn't know). According to the International Journal of Behavioral Nutrition and Physical Activity, “Currently 15% of US youth are overweight, a prevalence nearly twice as high in children and three times as high in adolescents compared to 1980 prevalence rates. Almost two-thirds (60%) of overweight children have at least one cardiovascular risk factor (e.g., hypertension, hyperlipidemia) and the prevalence of type 2 diabetes mellitus is increasing in youth.”

Regardless of whether you think the parent is responsible for this or not is irrelevant. The food that you are providing is a direct link to heart disease. Period. Frankly I don’t know how you sleep at night.  Let’s continue.

IJBHPA states, “While multiple factors influence eating behaviors and food choices of youth, one potent force is food advertising. Today's youth live in a media-saturated environment. Over the past 10 years, US children and adolescents have increasingly been targeted with intensive and aggressive forms of food marketing and advertising practices through a range of channels.” I could go on, but I won’t. I think you already know the statistics and frankly don’t care about the health of children in the years to come. This is just another tactic to gain the urge of millions of people to eat an abundance of your food in order just to be given the opportunity to be turned on to books.

Just one flaw with that. If a child isn't interested in books, it will have to take a whole lot more than six McDonald's visits to hook them. It will however, hook them on Happy Meals just after six visits.

Mission accomplished.

TV FREE WEEK

So, the holidays are upon us, and the stress levels can’t get any higher. Between final exams, Christmas shopping, bill paying, school plays, and holiday parties, my youngest daughter has decided that this is the perfect time to have a complete meltdown that forces me to think; I wonder how much a ten-year-old is going for on EBay. However, since that is highly frowned upon by Department of Social Services, I opted for her to lose television and computer privileges for an entire week.

Her response to that was another meltdown followed by tears and pleading. I stood my ground. Since things were out of control, she needed to be wrangled in. I think this will be good for her. It will give her time to get back in touch with her inner self and reflect on her poor behavior and the toys [that are on the line] for which she has begged for this Christmas.

For me, it is absolute heaven.

It gave me the opportunity to finish up an eight-page final essay a week early, and get my housework done with no other noise than the radio station that plays Christmas songs around the clock.

After a couple of days with no television, I found that she was able to focus on her homework, study for tests, practice her violin, and amazingly enough, the struggle with nightly routines was diminished. Why, do you ask? Because there is no arguing about missing her favorite shows. We have Netflix, and she can watch them next week.

Crisis averted!

Completely loving this new quiet way of living, I wondered how other people fared with this experiment. Not everyone can handle an entire week without television. After going to my handy dandy internet search engine, I found a link to the Coronado, California Patch online newspaper that ran a story about the town going "Screen Free". Tonia Accetta was asked if she was going to have her family partake in the “Screen-Free Week”.  Her response was, “The dates also coincide with the Easter break. It seems a bit mean to turn off TV when school is out. Plus we have to know who gets kicked off American Idol!” I can’t help but think; Heavens to Murgatroyd! God forbid Tonia is subjected to the daunting task of entertaining her children for the entire school break. Not to mention missing the next singer to get booted off American Idol. Anything but that!

Then there is a comment from Jan Spear on why there shouldn’t be a Screen-Free Week; “Screen-Free Week or National TV-Turnoff week impacts our escapism. Just a suggestion, how about limiting the amount of TV time per week, instead of totally tuning out? I wouldn't want to miss a Tsunami warning.”

Sarcasm wells up inside me.

Well, I can see how that’s justifiable, Jan. Tsunami warnings are so frequent in the United States these days we wouldn’t want to be caught off guard by a spontaneous Tsunami. Oh, and I can see how climbing into bed at night and escaping into a great book is completely out of the question.

Oy Vey, give me a break.

After being surprised and disappointed at the comments coming from highly educated adults on this subject, I decided to look elsewhere, hoping to find other information that I could use. I clicked on the next link to an article written by Charlene Lee, a fourteen-year-old girl from Los Angeles who challenged herself to an entire week of no television after she spent five hours straight watching the “Heroes” series.

What she discovered was surprising. After going through the withdrawal process, (aka the first couple of days with no television), she realized that she was able to be much more productive with her time. She found ways to fill her time with meaningful and important things like homework, studying for her SAT’s and submitting in her draft story for the LA Youth online newspaper early.

She began to not care about her favorite televisions shows and preferred to do something productive. However, by day five, she broke her own rules and went to the movies to catch the opening of Spiderman 3.

While sitting in the theater, she started thinking of other things she could be doing instead of wasting her time watching a movie. I find it pretty amazing for a fourteen-year-old to surmise how much television has impacted her life in a negative way just after five days.

Way to go Charlene!

I can only hope that after this weekend, my daughter will realize all the things she was able to do and that a week without television was not so bad after all.

Or at the very least will think twice before acting up.

MUPPETS!!

This past weekend, I had the pleasure of seeing the new Muppet movie starring Jason Segel and Amy Adams as well as a new muppet character; Walter. I have three words for this movie; Waka waka waka! The Muppets come back strong after a hiatus that I feel was much too long. How could America forget about Kermit, Miss Piggy, and the gang? Apparently, they have and the Disney crew has had just about enough of it. On November 23rd, “The Muppets” movie was released nationwide, and along with it came great reviews. The premise of the film is that while on vacation in Los Angeles, Walter, the world’s biggest Muppet fan, and his friends Gary (Jason Segel) and Mary (Amy Adams) discover the evil plot from oilman Tex Richman (Chris Cooper) to destroy the famous Muppet Theater and drill for oil that he discovered beneath the theater grounds. Walter helps Kermit reunite the old gang who has all gone their separate ways: Fozzie now performs in a Reno casino tribute band called, The Moopets, Miss Piggy is a plus-size editor at Vogue Paris, Animal is in a Santa Barbara clinic for anger management, and Gonzo is a high-powered plumbing businessman. In order to save the theater, the gang comes together to put on a telethon show. All the old favorite characters were included in the film, the Swiss chef, the old men in the balcony, hippie chick, even the Latin shrimp made a cameo. This movie was in true Muppet fashion-laden with celebrity names like Alan Arkin, Zack Galifianakis Selena Gomez, Jack Black, Jason Segal, Amy Adams, and Sarah Silverman, just to name a few. The Muppets come up against some resistance from the ABC executive (Rashida Jones) who refuses to air the Muppets telethon because they are passed their prime and America is now interested in such shows like “Punching Teacher”. Throughout the movie, there are songs with inspirational and moral messages. “Life’s a Happy Song” explains how much better the world is when you are who you are meant to be and sharing it with the ones you love.

My friend had invited me and my daughter to see it with her family. I have to admit I was a little apprehensive about going since the last one I saw was painfully boring (aka “Muppets in Space” circa 1999). When I got there, I was surprised to see pretty much the entire theater full on a Sunday matinee since it was the first weekend of the Christmas shopping rush. I was also surprised to find that it placed second for the highest movie tickets sold in the country. With America is still in love with Vampires, which took the number one spot, and I still don’t get, but I digress.

As I watched, I discovered that I just couldn’t resist enjoying the silliness, uplifting songs, and very cheeky jokes that are weaved heavily throughout this film (Fozzie Bear’s fart shoes went over huge with the audience). I actually found myself laughing out loud and was brought back to my childhood days of innocence and wonderment that the Muppets brought into my life each week. The movie also had jokes and parts that only adults would get. There were actually a couple of instances that I had to explain to my daughter because the jokes went over her head. Of course, it wouldn’t be a Muppet movie without the song “Rainbow Connection.” I was heart warmed to hear it and softly sang along, remembering every word. I was instantly twelve years old again. I looked over at my friend and saw her wiping the tears from her eyes. It has to mean something when a piece of felt with ping pong eyes sings a melody has the ability to move someone to tears.
 Simplicity at its best, I say.
So why is it that we as a society refuse such simplicity? We are so stressed; our comedies are dark, cynical, and hardly silly. Gone are the days of movies like “Airplane” and “Naked Gun” (admit it, seeing OJ Simpson getting pushed off a balcony in a wheelchair was hysterical). Sure there have been some satires relating to “scary movies”, however, one would have to be under the age of 21 and into horror flicks to get the jokes. The Muppets make it completely OK for society to indulge in this guilty pleasure of simplicity and silliness for an hour and 42 minutes. Seriously, what is funnier than fart shoes? Absolutely nothing.

Ode to Andy Rooney

"Not many people in this world are as lucky as I have been. All this time I've been paid to say what is on my mind on television. You don't get any luckier in life than that."-Andy Rooney

As I sat down in my living room early last Saturday morning, a cup of tea in hand, I turned on the television and was very saddened to hear about the death of Andy Rooney. My heart sank. The journalism world has lost an icon in my eyes. However, I have a feeling that if Mr. Rooney had read that last sentence, he probably would have called me an idiot for thinking so. He hid from the limelight and absolutely hated when people would notice him on the street and yell “Hey Andy!” He also never believed in signing autographs. “What kind of idiot wants my name on a piece of paper?” He asked during a recent interview with Morley Safer.

You just have to love Andy Rooney. So brass and raw at times, Andy was real. He said things that most would think but never say. He saw the ridiculous in everyday life. Most of all, he made us think; if only for a moment.

If you are not familiar with Andy Rooney, please allow me to summarize. Born January 14, 1919, in Albany N.Y., Andy graduated from Albany Academy High School and attended Colgate University until being drafted in the U.S. Army in 1941; in his junior year. He became a correspondent for The Stars and Stripes newspaper for three years and reported several missions on the second American bombing raid over Germany to the Far East. After writing about his war experience in three books, Rooney was hired by CBS in 1949 after a bold encounter with Arthur Godfrey. After writing for several other television programs and becoming well educated  on the CBS news programs, Rooney convinced CBS executives that he could write on any subject when he wrote his first essay back in 1964. His first piece was a segment called “A Digression” seen on the “60 Minutes” premiere show back on January 24, 1968. By 1978, Andy became the Andy we know today as the opinionated, curmudgeon, humorous voice at the end of every show.

If you're still not familiar with his work, here's a taste of his personality; these are just a few of his more famous quotes:

“I didn't get old on purpose, it just happened, if you’re lucky, it could happen to you.”

“If you smile when no one else is around, you mean it.”

“The average dog is nicer than the average person.”

Lastly, one of my favorites, “The 50-50-90 rule; any time you have a 50-50 chance of getting something right, there is a 90 percent probability that you will get it wrong.”

They are words of wisdom in my eyes.

I looked forward to watching 60 Minutes every Sunday night just to hear what kind of ranting Mr. Rooney had for that particular week. Never censoring his thoughts from cotton in medicine bottles to his view on homosexuals; a view that landed him a three-month suspension from his job at CBS, Rooney consistently gave the audience his ‘last word’ with his signature sarcasm and curmudgeon attitude. If we were lucky, Mr. Rooney would occasionally bless us with his softer side.

I never realized how talented he was until I seriously began writing opinionated articles myself. To make the points he made in a matter of two minutes is a gift. Never mind continue to do it for over thirty years.

Rest in peace Mr. Rooney, you will be missed and 60 Minutes will never be the same.

Recently in the news I have been seeing a lot of stories on ‘flash mobs’ that have taken a turn for the worse. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought flash mobs were meant to be something fun and unexpected.

I wasn’t sure, so to satisfy my curiosity I looked up the definition of Flash Mob. Here is what I found; Dictionary.com defines Flash Mob as: ‘a large group of people mobilized by social media to meet in a public place for the purpose of doing an unusual or entertaining activity of short duration.’

Please note the word entertaining. Nowhere does it mention, violent or hatred acts.

I mention this because recently in Maryland, two dozen teenagers gathered at a Seven-Eleven at 1:36 am and robbed it within 60 seconds. In Philadelphia, upwards to 200 teens have been gathering for random acts of violence via “flash mob” technique. The International Business Times website writer Daniel Tovrov stated, “A flash mob occurred on July 29, when about 30 teenagers near City Hall severely beat two people, leaving one unconscious and the other needing surgery for a broken jaw. In June, some gangs attacked pedestrians and people leaving restaurants while others robbed train passengers. Still others walked into stores and businesses and walked out with stolen goods. “

This behavior prompted Philadelphia Mayor Nutter to put a 9pm curfew on the city youth for Friday and Saturday nights and have personally held the parents responsible for any child found out after curfew with fines upwards of 500 dollars. In the words of Mayor Nutter; “We've got the biggest, baddest gang in town - a committed group of citizens and a committed government and we're working together and we're not going to have this nonsense anymore."

Yeah, that’s how he rolls.

I was going to give a good tongue lashing and finger pointing on how the young people in these states have taken something enjoyable, positive, and surprising like flash mobs into something mean, disruptive, and violent.

However, trying not to sound like a grandmother, I am here to tell you that I am not going to be wasting any more of my energy glorifying these morons.

So I began to wonder. Where did flash mobs originate and why don’t we ever see the evening news broadcast all the fun and creative flash mobs? Personally, I would like reporters on the scene of a dancing flash mob (perhaps even partaking in the fun) than on a murder scene.

But hey, that’s just me.

So being of the ‘older generation’,( meaning that I’m over 30, but clearly under 50), I didn’t put much thought into where it all generated from. It seemed as if it just appeared everywhere one day.

So I did some research and came across some interesting facts.

Bill Wasik, the Senior Editor of Harper’s Magazine started the Flash mob movement back in 2003 where individuals came together at a Toys R Us store in New York City to gather around a giant T-Rex dinosaur and stared at it for three minutes, then genuflected and cowered beneath the giant toy. Employees of the store called security due to the fact that they became concerned of a cult like activity occurring in their store. They dispersed before security could arrive.

Crazy fun.

Then there is Charlie Todd; an actor that some feel should receive credit for starting the ‘Flash mob’ movement. Charlie started the ‘Improv Everywhere’ missions back in 2001, where people get together for pranks in the New York City area that cause scenes of joy and chaos in public places within a short period of time. The website (www.improveverywhere.com) posts videos and summaries of all the pranks Mr. Todd organizes. I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised at the silliness, creativity, and human reaction that goes into each of these ‘pranks’.

A men’s room attendant at a McDonalds in Times Square? Priceless.

A suicide jumper that is on a ledge that is 3 feet high? Twisted, yet comedic.
Then there are mobs that get together for the message of saving a life. In Cheektowaga, NY, people gathered at the Walden Galleria mall to perform CPR on mannequins to the tune of The Bee Gees song, Staying Alive. This act was in efforts to get a bill passed to mandate CPR training in the high school curriculum.

Others do it to demonstrate the power of park and recreation programs. In Upper St. Clair, PA, assistant director Ryan McCLeaster stated, "We, here in USC, wanted to show how recreation plays an active role in many lives from youth to older adults through our programs and amenities, including the Community and Recreation Center."
Regardless of the oddities, reasons, or messages, what we discover with each act is a lesson in humanity. Everyone has a story. It’s like one big sociology experiment.

Let’s talk about sex, baby, let’s talk about you and me, let’s talk about all the good things and the bad things that may be, let’s talk about sex.” For those of you born in the late 1980’s you may be old enough to know what female vocal group sang this song.

For those of you who weren’t, it was Salt N Pepa.

The song discussed simply, sex and the disadvantages of being promiscuous. Believe it or not, this song was pretty controversial back in the day. However, presently sex is everywhere and is taken pretty lightly when it comes to expressing it.

Especially on college campuses.

I know we are a commuter school, however, NECC students at some point will go on to schools that are not. So, I guess I would have to ask, "Where do we draw the line when it comes to moral behavior on campuses?" When the Observer staff took out the first edition of the NECC Observer dated November 21, 1962, one story caught my eye. It was titled “Students’ Moral Behavior on Campus Discussed”, by Ellin Foreman. In it she discusses the recent flurry of articles that were in newspapers and magazines on the subject of sex and the college student. (Not to be confused with Sex in the City.)

In the article, Ms. Foreman focuses on a private assembly that was held by Vassar College President, Sarah Gibson Blanding on April 4, 1962 on student moral behavior on campus. She addressed the student body by stating “students are expected to maintain the highest standards of behavior and those who drink to excess or engage in premarital sexual relations are not living up to the highest standards of behavior." I found that statement pretty strict and was curious to read the rest of her speech.

I went to the Vassar College website archives and found an excerpt of her speech. It said; “premarital sex and excessive drinking would not be tolerated at Vassar.” She declared that sexual promiscuity was “indecent and immoral” and that “disciplinary action would be taken against those who did not follow the standards of the college.” President Blanding went on to state that, “those students who could not follow the rules to withdraw voluntarily from Vassar.”

Wow. You have got to be kidding me. She is stating this to students who were considered adults in society. Could we imagine if President Glenn said to us, if you can’t keep it in your pants, go elsewhere? (Of course, I'm using extreme and loosely stated terms; President Glenn would definitely be more eloquent if needed to address this issue to us on campus.) I wonder what students would do. Would they stay? Would they agree? When taking a poll from students who heard President Blanding’s speech, 52% agreed with her, 40% disagreed, and the rest were undecided.

I wonder what the students at NECC would think.

As I’m reading through the article Ms. Foreman wrote, the entire thing sounds so stuffy, rigid and so very 1962-ish. Students were expected to behave with the highest of moral standards. There was so much expectation put on 18 year olds and older. Acting like an adult was important back then. It was something that was earned not just handed over. Having credibility and integrity was highly regarded in society back in 1962.

This leads me to this question. Do we still have this integrity today amongst our young adults? The stuffy ‘old person’ in me wants to say we don’t. She wants to say that young adults today take everything for granted and there is this sense of entitlement that is just flooring to me. Then there is the hip and happening person who thinks that this is a totally different time, era, and lifestyle than in the 60’s and with this type of change so do the kids. And the optimistic in me hopes that with age, these young adults will become to understand society’s ways and wise up to what they need to do in life and make it all better.

But am I right?

I posed the question out to some fellow students and adults and their response was interesting. Rosanne Cudia Romano stated, “Students slack off because this generation thinks the world owes them something. Adding sex and partying into the mix brings down the moral even more because they are focusing even less on work as they are thinking about the next party coming up or who they are going to hook up with next."

Ouch.

Charles Russo stated, “a Brigham Young University basketball player, Brandon Davies got kicked off the team and out of school last year for having pre-marital sex (I think his girlfriend got pregnant).The student athletes at BYU had to sign a "contract" saying no drinking, sex, etc. BYU is a Mormon University. Additionally, I think the country has become morally bankrupt. Anything goes nowadays. Parents can't let their kids watch TV past the 6pm news anymore. All shows have sexual connotations or half naked actors and actresses. Sex is very casual now. Not a lot of meaning in it for kids of this generation. The kids nowadays think oral sex is like a handshake. I believe the whole loss of morality etc. impacts work ethic, respect for one another, elders, and how they view the value of a dollar and their possessions.”

Doesn’t look promising, does it?

I posed this question out to traditional college students but didn’t get a response. I wonder if it was because they just didn’t notice the e-mail request or they just flat out didn’t care to contribute their comments to a discussion on moral issues. The hip and happening person was really hoping for the other side to form an opinion, giving me a good ‘get with the program granny’ type response, and state to me that casual sex is where it’s at these days and to not be so stuffy; ‘kids of today are doing just fine’.

However, what worries me is that is exactly what I didn’t get.

How to Break a Child's Heart

(This was a letter to the editor that I wrote to The Downeast Coastal Press back in July 2001.)

Editor:

This is an open letter to all parents of children who have ever planned a children's birthday party. I would like to express my feelings of disgust, anger, and disappointment with parents who do not respond to an invitation, or respond and end up not attending a child's birthday party.

I had recently organized a party for my daughter's birthday. In the eyes of a child, this birthday was of particular importance.

But that is beside the point.

After organizing the planning, the invitations were sent out a week before [the event] and, I might add, with well typed out directions to my home. [I also gave] a working phone number to respond to for RSVP or to answer any questions.

In the week prior to the party, my daughter talked about it with anticipation excitement. The day arrived and the house was decorated. We all waited patiently for her "friends" to show up. We waited and waited, we drove up and down the street to make sure the landmarks were in place.

Still no one.

Despair and panic set in my stomach. It ended up that not one child showed up...What a disaster. I shouldn't have to describe the feelings of disappointment and sorrow my daughter felt, not to mention my feelings as a parent who watched this unfold.

What does a parent say to a crying child as to why not one of her friends arrives [or calls] about her party? My mind is filled with anger and my heart with the deepest hurt any mother could feel for her child.

At this point, we were forced to deal with such disappointment that no child should have to deal with; an explanation why, which I could not explain. So it left me to discuss how people will let her down in life and the importance of family, which will and should always come first.

She understood, but still wanted her friends there.

My request to you - all parents who have received or have sent out an invitation for a child's birthday - is to remember this;

While you may not think it is of any importance that you call, regardless of your busy lives, what you do (or do not do) affects others around you.

Because of ignorance, rudeness or other unattractive manners, my daughter will certainly not forget this birthday nor will she forget the "friends" who didn't care enough to call. If we knew, we could have avoided such a horrible disappointment.

Unfortunately, this birthday will be remembered for all the wrong reasons.

Signed,
Disappointed Mother

Millionaire

"Be a winner."

That's what I found in my fortune cookie at lunch one day. Pretty ironic because the next day I was headed to New York City to test out for the possibility to be a contestant on "Who Wants To Be a Millionaire".

I'm going to try my damnedest.

It's funny what possesses a person to do such things. The idea first came to me when the show was announcing auditions for the fall season. Having recently overcome a very personal and challenging six months I figured what the hell, why not?

I went to the site, plugged in the required information, and within a few hours, they sent me an e-mail with my scheduled time and date.

Like a boyfriend who's afraid to commit, I immediately got second thoughts. I suddenly felt silly. I don't know why. I watch people every day on games shows, trying their luck and sometimes winning big. I sit on my sofa and think to myself how easy it is and I could be a better contestant. I yell answers at the television set and become frustrated when the contestants don't hear me.

Fantasy is always better than reality, and the reality is I am much braver from the comfort of my living room.

I was suddenly insecure, afraid of the outcome.  I second guessed my actions and kept putting it off. There were doctors appointments, school plays, no one to accompany me, etc. Anything I could use as an excuse to not follow through. The website had several weeks of testing dates, so I would keep rescheduling to the following week.

Until I tried to reschedule one last time and noticed that there were no more weeks to reschedule.

Crap. Now, what do I do?

I was at a crossroads. Either I scrap the entire idea and think for the rest of my life "what if" or I suck it up and stick to my plan.

Since my brother would have kicked my ass if I passed up this chance, I decided to follow through.

Life is an adventure, right? I thought to myself.

I booked a seat on the Acela express to NYC; taking on the "Big Apple" for one full day; by myself.
It was heaven. The seats were large, cushy, and made of leather. Of course, I picked one next to the window. Free wi-fi, electrical outlets by my side, footrest, adjustable desktop, and best of all; nobody sitting next to me. The only noise I heard was the clicking of the train on the tracks. It was like riding first class on an airplane.

This was the life.

Until he came on board.

Amtrak has a special car called the "Quiet Car". This is for people who want absolute quiet. I chose this car to ensure that I'm not bothered by crying babies, annoying business people, or loud iPods. I wanted to take this time to think and write. Amtrak is very strict with the rules attached to this car. They make sure to announce it several times at every stop and as the conductor collects tickets.
The rules are, no cell phones, no talking, if it is essential to talk, it is to be in short, whispered conversations and no music. Hell, even my computer had to be in mute mode. I could literally hear a pin drop.

It was very clear to everyone what car we were in, and I was about to find out just how seriously people took these rules.

We stopped in Connecticut and picked up some passengers. I remember being a kid on a school bus and not wanting someone sitting next to me. I would put a backpack next to me and avert my eyes, hoping that they would get the hint and pick another seat. Sometimes we got lucky and this strategy worked.

Unfortunately, this tactic didn't seem to work with the old man. There were several empty seats around me, but he decides to stop at my seat and smile.

Fuck. Really??

I had all my shit strewn about the two chairs staking my territory. There were clearly plenty of other seats available, but because the universe likes to fuck with me, this old man was attracted to me like a moth to a flame.

Shit.

 "Is this seat taken?" he says looking straight at me.  I look at him, then look at my shit everywhere, and ever so badly want to say; "Hell yes old man! Don't you see I'm all settled here?? Go find another seat!"

It's times like these where I wish I was a cold-hearted bitch.

However, I'm not, so I smile weakly and strain to politely say, "Oh, no, it isn't, here, let me put my bags under my seat."

Me and my fucking manners.

As he puts his things in the overhead compartment, I'm scrambling to neaten up my area. In my head, I'm thinking, why me? Out of all the seats on this freaking train, why the hell does he have to sit next to me?!

Why? Because that's just my luck.

Now we're settled and the conductor goes through his announcements and the "Quiet Car" schpiel; No talking, no music, yadda, yadda, yadda.

I go back to my work and people around me are doing the same. Things are good. For about 60 seconds.

He then decides that he is going to spark up a conversation with me. "So, Where are you going?" in a rather loud voice.

Now, the woman across from us turns her head so fast in our direction, I swear she got whiplash.
Here we go.

So I look at her with a, "what the hell do you want me to do, ignore him?" look, and then turn to him and quietly say "New York City".

"WHAT?" he yells.

I wince and think, "Dear Lord; whatever did I do to piss you off today?"

Now, in addition to the pissed off whiplash woman, I have acquired two passengers sitting across from us who are very annoyed at the fact that the old man is talking in the quiet car.

Because the man is older than Christ himself, he can't hear me, and I'm forced to answer a bit louder. "New York City!" I said.

A loud sigh and a roll of the eyes comes from whiplash lady.

"Oh!" he says, "New York City is a great place to visit! There is so much to see and do..." as he was talking I became anxious and just wanted him to shut up. Suddenly his voice just went into an inaudible tone. You know, like the parents in the Peanuts cartoons. The parents' voices were just - "wahp wahap waaahh wahp". I couldn't hear a word he was saying.

I began to sweat because I could see the darts shooting out of the eyes of the other passengers who wanted me to tell him to shut the fuck up.

What was I supposed to do? Like it was my fault the old man didn't care what fucking car he was in.

Then to make matters worse, I hear a man equivalent to a flight attendant starting down the aisle with a cart that holds various candies, gum, soda, alcohol (you know, for those functional alcoholics) and salty snacks. He's quite the smart ass- he makes smarmy comments and pushes his overpriced crap onto people who just want to get to work.

He stops at the old man and me, then suggests that the old man buy some 'tasty pretzels' or a cup of coffee. The old man peeks over at the cart and comments on how he's not interested in this junk food and doesn't bite at the overpriced bait. Offended, the snarky snack pusher moves on.

He turns to me and starts talking about how annoying that man was. I turned my head, nodded at him, politely smiled then returned to my work.

Quiet means quiet, old man.

Noticing that I was not engaging with him, the old man decides to nap.

Thank Christ.

I continue to write, look out the window, and munch on the lunch I brought. I had about an hour and a half to myself. I felt like a parent who was trying to get in all the "alone" time she could before her kid woke up.

The train comes to a stop and the old man wakes up.

Shit.

He looks at me and asks, "Where am I?"

Oh, great. Now he doesn't even remember where the hell he is?!

Hoping that he knew, I state, "In Connecticut." He flatly states. "I hate this state."

Hey, old man, thanks for sharing.

I ignore him, continue to type away. He glances over at me and asks me what kind of work I do. Inside I'm screaming "SHUT.THE.FUCK.UP!". People around me are looking at me like I'm the one encouraging his behavior.

I turn to him and sort of put up my finger to my lips and answer him in a whisper. Of course, he doesn't hear me and asks louder. I don't repeat, but instead, say "Shh, it's a quiet car." In perfect timing, Mr. Snack Pusher comes back with his overpriced loot.

This time, the old man purchases a Snickers bar. I think to myself, thank God. At least, his mouth will be full and can't talk.

I go back to my work and after a few minutes, I hear coughing.

I ignore him. The coughing continues. Then he makes this little squeak cough that makes me look at him.

Annoyingly, I turn to ask him if he's okay, and I notice he's choking.

Of course, he is.

I stared at him, watching to see how he does. I don't panic because he was coughing. The first rule; if a person is coughing, they can breathe. No need to intervene at this point. This I remember from my 20+ years of CPR/First Aid training.

His face was red, but he was still coughing. One last cough and the old man cleared his throat.

His face had a panic on it. His eyes were watering. I asked him if he was ok. He wearily nodded his head and said, "That was scary." and put down the rest of the candy bar.

Smart move old man.

Whiplash lady gave a raised eyebrow look as if to say, See what you get for talking in the "Quiet Car".

Seriously bitch? That was totally not called for.

I ignore the passengers, the old man, and the snack pusher for the rest of the train ride. If anyone tried to engage, I just pretended that I was so engrossed with my typing and didn't hear them.

Rude? Probably. But I had enough. What was supposed to be a wonderfully relaxing train ride for me, was nothing but stress, aggravation, and a near death experience.

I want my money back, Amtrak.

We pulled into Penn Station and I actually traveled on the NYC subway. No muggings, No bums, No panhandlers.

Finally, things were looking up.

I quickly found my way to the ABC Studio. Huge pictures of Diane Sawyer and Charlie Gibson hung on the walls in the foyer. I felt like I was on the set of GMA. I walk into the lobby and was greeted by security employees. I told them that I had an appointment (like I was important) for "Millionaire" at 5 pm. The guard directs me to a gray door down the building and informed me to be there around 4:30 pm. I thanked her and leave to find the door.

That's kinda sketchy, I thought. I found the door. It was flush with the rest of the side of the building and had no handle or sign on the outside. Now that I knew where I was supposed to be, I decided to take in the sites of Lincoln Center.

I returned to the designated door at 4:30 pm. Only, this time, there is a line with about 75 people in it.

There are two men with headsets and clipboards in their hands. I walk over to one and give him my paper. He finds my name, checks it off and tells me to stand in line.

So like a good and eager contestant, I do.

I'm behind a man who is like a large sumo wrestler. He keeps turning around and looking at me. I smile politely, he smiles back.

 I'm assuming that a smile was the New York City signal to converse. Nice. Now I have to entertain this fucker too? Shit. All I wanted to do on this trip was to blend. He asks me if we were supposed to bring any sort of identification.

Who am I your fucking mother? I think to myself.

Stunned, I look at him and say, "Yes, and there are two applications they wanted to be filled out and brought in."
 "Oh." he says. "Well, I didn't bring anything. I hope they don't ask for it. I just came here to get out of work for the afternoon. My boss thinks I'm at a dentist appointment." then turns around.

 New Yorkers. Gotta love'em.

He turns back around to me a second later, and asks, "So, what happens?" I said, "With what?" He says, "With getting on the show?"

Now, I'm thinking to myself, Do you even know what fucking show you're trying out for?! Thank Christ, it wasn't Jeopardy.

I explain to him (because I'm an ass like that) that there is a 30 question test we have to take to qualify, but other than that, I had no idea. He thanks me then turns around again.

Another second later, he turns back around and states that he will probably fail the test since he's not that smart.

Really? I would have never guessed. Up until now, you seemed pretty intelligent to me.

The line now starts to move. As we head into the non-descript gray door, there is a ramp that leads to a room that is quite large and has several square tables and chairs at one end, and round tables at the other. Pictures of various ABC celebrities hung on the walls and we were directed to go through a metal detector and have our bags searched.

Two young women conducted the testing. One directed us to our seat and the other handed us our test. At the tables were a "Millionaire" pencils and magnets.

Parting gifts, I'm assuming.

One of the women passed out large yellow manilla envelopes with numbers on them to each 'contestant' and an answer sheet. We were to remember that number on our envelope.

The other young woman went through the rules for testing and what would be happening if we qualified to move on.  Her tone was that of a tour guide. Bored and tired of saying the same thing over and over for hours on end.

We had 30 questions to answer in 10 minutes. There was no specification of what was a qualifying score. The answer sheets were passed in and fed through a computer for scoring. If our number was called, we passed and were to go to the round tables at the end of the room and wait to get our pictures taken.

At this point, I'm getting pretty anxious. I wanted to get going. All I could think of was my fortune. "Be a winner." This was my time. I could feel it. I started thinking of all the ways I would help my family, being able to meet Meredith Viera and 'ask the audience'.

I felt like Bobby Brady fantasizing about meeting Joe Namath. It just had to happen.

The ABC staffer starts the timer and the race was on. I did well. Or so I thought. I finished in record time and even had time to recheck my answers. Some of the questions were silly like;

"What is a national brand of oatmeal" A. Episcopalian, B. Quaker, C. Protestant D. None of the above.

Then there were harder ones like; "Entomology is the study of what?" A. Bugs, B. Snakes, C. Horses, D. Skin.

There were 100 people who tested out for the show, only 15 passed. To this day, I have no idea why they passed or why I didn't.

(By the way, the answers to the above questions were B and A.)

From start to finish, it only took twenty minutes to find out that I was not going to be a contestant or a millionaire.

So I left with my handy-dandy magnet and pencil for my efforts. But I'm not giving up. I will try out again.

Because I believe that someday I will, "Be a winner".