Phoebe Kate

My daughter J.J. reminded me today of a conversation that occurred right before she departed for her first year at college in 2006.  The family was enjoying stirfry at our favorite local hangout, The Mongolian Grill, when out of nowhere her father suddenly said to her, “You know, sweetie, you can always find a rich boy at college and be set for life.”

I gaped at my husband as if a pig’s head had replaced his usual one.  “What?“ I indignantly retorted.  “Our daughter is going to school to get an education and be a career woman, not become a golddigger and marry a millionaire!”

Now, on my husband’s behalf, I must say he’s never been a male chauvinist and isn’t starting now.  However, he’s a WWII Baby and I’m a Baby Boomer.  When he went to an Ivy League university in the 50s, it was the norm for young women to troll the halls of higher education in search of a well-heeled mate and a signed-and-sealed lifetime deal in an upscale suburb.  On the other hand, when I was in college in the early 70s, women were burning bras and going to consciousness-raising groups where they admired their vaginas in hand mirrors.  So, in light of the generational difference, his remark is understandable.  But it got my goat anyway, which my daughter still thinks is hilarious. 

Over spring break next month, she’s flying to Ohio to visit her boyfriend, a highly personable and bright young man whom we like very much.  Generous, too — he’s paying for her airfare to Columbus.  After having a good laugh today over the golddigger conversation, J.J said, “Tell Dad I didn’t find a millionaire at school.  But I did run into a thousandaire.  It’s the best I could do in North Carolina.”

 –phoebe kate        

Some pages from Dickens’ original handwritten manuscript of The Pickwick Papers are being auctioned at Christie’s in London soon.  I would kill (ok, maybe not quite that extreme a measure, but almost everything else but) to get a scrap of one of those pages.  Reading Charles Dickens at the ages of 8 and 9 and 10 taught me the fundamentals of good writing.  He was a master of description and turning soap opera plots into astounding literature.  To this day, he remains a sentimental favorite of mine.  On cold, grey days or when I’m depressed, I inevitably pick up a volume of his, turn to the passages I love and always come away with the sense that all is really right with the world, no matter how bleak it may seem at the moment.

On another note, Stephen King and John Cougar Mellencamp are reported to be collaborating on a musical that will debut in Atlanta sometime in the near future.   Well, I can’t help but think these are strange bedfellows artistically — I mean, the author of Everything Dark and the composer of “Our Country” teaming up???!!!  But who knows.  It promises to be a very interesting creative endeavor for the both of them and the result may be  — ahh, words (for once) fail me.  I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

–phoebe kate

Ok, call me a slow learner.  A remedial student in the classroom of life.  Some lessons I pick up right away and apply readily, but others I seem to keep having to re-learn over and over again, the hard way.  Maybe it’s because I really don’t want to believe they’re true.  Maybe I’d like to retain a shred of optimism about human nature.  Who knows.

Anyway, here are the two lessons I have trouble getting through my thick skull, although Lord knows they’re a recurring theme in quite a few of my short stories.  (I should re-read my own work and learn from it, eh?)

     1.)  If someone seems too good to be true, he or she is.

     2.)  People are just fine until the moment they’re not fine anymore, and then you better watch out.

It’s an issue of trust, of course.  But how well do we really know anyone, even those we feel closest to?  Even more troubling, how well do we know ourself? 

“I’d never do that!” I’ve heard many trustworthy individuals firmly avow, and then watched them turn right around at a later date and do whatever it is (with many excellent justifications for why, of course.)  I’ve said the same thing upon occasion — followed by the inevitable back-pedaling and excuse-making (hope no one was watching when I did that…ha.) 

If we can’t trust our own selves, what makes us think we can trust anyone else?

–phoebe kate

“It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change.”–Charles Darwin  

The last 72 hours have brought major changes to my world.  And change, as we all know who’ve seen enough of it in our lives, is never easy.  

Whether the change is for the better or for the worse doesn’t really seem to matter very much.  Both are stressful and require profound adjustments on our part.  We devote enormous time and energy finding our life partner and when we finally do, spend the rest of the relationship, be it short or long, trying to hammer out the ramifications of supposed wedded bliss.  Having children may be an enriching experience but it throws a monkey wrench into every area of your life as well as your marriage, a reality that few are prepared for. People look forward to their “golden years” and then promptly drop dead of a heart attack because they can’t switch gears from being a corporate go-getter to a retirement community golfer.

Nothing lasts forever.  Not happy times (too bad) or sad times (thank God), or jobs or careers, or feelings or moods or opinions — or people. 

That last one’s the really hard thing to deal with.  We kid ourselves into thinking our relationships will go on as long we do.  They don’t.  Death takes some of our loved ones.  Disenchantment takes others.  Geographic distances and personal differences rob us of some more.  We outgrow our friends and vice versa.  Children outgrow their parents.  The list of emotional losses is endless. 

If we’re in tune with the times and the seasons of life, we even outgrow ourselves and find we need to re-invent ourselves not once, but many times.  We wear many hats and play many different parts, but just when we get used to it all, there’s always a new script and a new role to play when we least expect or want it. 

The only thing we can do is give our best performance, keep our cool and our sense of humor.  As someone once said, “Change is inevitable — except from a vending machine.”      

–phoebe kate                                      

The KITH (Kid in The House) has a serious addiction to the Disney Channel.  It seems that every time I walk into her room, day or night, Hannah Montana’s obnoxious self is mouthing off and flouncing around on the TV screen.  Billy Ray Cyrus’s spawn from hell gives a whole new meaning to the term l’enfant terrible — but what can we expect from a no-talent one-hit-wonder guy with a mullet who inflicted on audiences the likes of “Achy Breaky Heart,” arguably the worst song ever written.

Anyway, I recently remarked to the KITH that she might enjoy checking out the Discovery Channel because it had some really cool shows.  She took my suggestion and now tells me how I can build an earthquake-proof house and what the dirtiest jobs in the world are, as well as random tidbits of pop culture knowledge from “Cash Cab.”  I must admit I’m impressed.

Last evening, she topped herself.  As I was making dinner, she popped into the kitchen after an afternoon of Discovery Channel viewing and announced to me, “Let’s go to the Bermuda Triangle and DISAPPEAR!!!”

Now that’s the vacation getaway to end all vacation getaways.  Literally.  Ahhh, I foresee a brief and bizarre career for the KITH as a tour guide with a taste for the macabre… 

–phoebe kate