Here are some examples of sentences and conversations I’ve collected from my son over the last couple of months. You’ll notice that some of them seem quite random, while some of them show just how much he’s paying attention to things…
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Standing all wobbly on this bed, arms out for balance, grinning, still wearing his sleep sack and trying to walk in it: “What’s happening?!”
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“I’m okay!” (Most of the time when he falls down, particularly when he pretends to fall down.)
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E (looking at a strange little growth in the middle of a yellow pepper): “It’s a small planet.”
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“It’s super-duper warm!” (Verbatim what Mommy said last time it was warm – which has happened precious few times this year.)
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(Worrying about a spider that we found in the house and put outside): “Spider! Little spider on the ground.”
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(Asking to see Mommy’s big belly with the funny bellybutton.) “I wanna open the belly.”
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Speaking to the cement garden turtles, just home from the babysitter’s: “Hi!” (Repeated several times with different intonations.) “Nice to meeting you, turtles.” Continued…
It was a couple months ago that I was first introduced to the video of this special, special new song that has taken YouTube by storm. My husband preambled it by telling me it was basically the worst song ever.
I’ll admit I was skeptical. Could this really be worse than Kylie Minogue’s “I Just Can’t Get You Out Of My Head” or Britney Spears’ “I’m a Slave 4U”? If you haven’t already, take a look and form your own opinions before I go bloggifying it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CD2LRROpph0
I had to agree it was incredibly bad in many ways. My thoughts ranged thus: Nobody’s lip gloss looks like that when they wake up… Why is she only singing one note?… Seriously, we rhyme “bowl” and “cereal”?… Are we going to get a blow-by-blow of this kid’s entire day??… Okay, NO WAY are those kids old enough to drive… Um, even when you’re twelve you should be able to decide instantaneously which seat you’re gonna sit in… And that’s only the first 45 seconds.
I winced at her nasal timbre during the chorus. I cringed visibly hearing lyrics that somebody must have actually written down somewhere: “Partyin’ partyin’ – yeah – partyin’ partyin’ – yeah – fun, fun, fun, fun…” I shook my head at the awkward use of lingo (like “kickin’ in the front seat”) – and I’m OLD, what do I know about lingo? And my jaw actually dropped when I got to the bridge that explains the order of the days of the week. Just… wow.
I was also struck by the naiveté of this video, with its elements of something I would have dreamed of starring in when I was a pre-teen (and making up Sweet Valley High songs – which, though banal, had better lyrics). At that age, I didn’t actually want to be a pop star, but I did want to be gorgeous and popular and fashionable (I wasn’t) and seem grown-up (I didn’t, except perhaps with respect to my vocabulary). This video is full of things that make Rebecca seem more grown-up than she is: shiny makeup, friends with a car, sitting up on top of the backseat, wearing glam clothes and jewelry, going independently to a party where there are apparently no adults… As if it came directly from the imagination of someone un-cool, envisioning what cool looks like.
As you will have noticed if you made it to the end, the number of parodies of this video is truly impressive. I ended up watching this ABC News clip about reaction to the video instead.
It was shocking to me. I guess I just don’t have enough first-hand experience with cyber-bullying and the kinds of extreme things kids will say from the safety of anonymity. Wikipedia even says “In response to the YouTube video of “Friday”, Black began to receive death threats in late February 2011, specifically by phone and email.[25] While there were a number of negative, and many violent, comments on the YouTube video itself, none of the comments were specific to Black or direct in their threat of violence. These threats are being investigated by the Anaheim Police Department.[26] As of May 17, 2011, commenting on the video has been disabled.”
I also found out a few more things:
Rebecca is thirteen, to turn fourteen in June.
She began singing publicly in 2008, as part of Celebration USA.
Her parents paid Ark Music Factory to make the video as a “vanity release”.
The two guys in Ark wrote the song “Friday” in its entirety.
Therefore, they are to blame for its being amongst the worst songs in the world.
That trying-way-too-hard guy rapping in the video is also one of the Ark guys.
No wonder it’s all so dorky.
In the news clip, Rebecca seems to me like a pretty normal, sweet girl who has suddenly had to develop (or at least pretend to have) a positive attitude about being treated horribly by people who have never met her. You can say she brought it on herself by a) having the video made and b) putting it out there on YouTube, but COME ON. No thirteen-year-old deserves to be told “I hope you die.”
The question that rises to my mind is, what kind of people are these who decide to go beyond the “Dislike” button and engage in cruelty? I hope they’re not adults, because that’s just pathetic and creepy. But even though I presume most of the commenters are kids around Rebecca’s own age, and I already know that kids can be really mean for no good reason, this is still way overboard.
I’ve had many a talk with youngsters about bullying and being mean, and there’s only ever been one (whom I fear seeing in the paper as a murder suspect in a few years) who answered Yes to the questions “Do you really want to hurt people and make them feel awful? Do you want to be a mean person?” My brain hurts when I try to imagine what kind of baggage a kid must have in order to get this angry and vitriolic about a simple, albeit dumb, music video.
If bad music were a valid reason for viciousness, there would be violent riots over Jan Terri:
Kids: if you find yourself wishing a bloody demise upon a complete stranger while you’re watching YouTube, you are watching too much YouTube. GO PLAY, right now. Go, scoot.
And adults: if you need something to get the taste of Jan and Rebecca out of your ears, here’s a hilariously intelligent, though exceedingly nerdy and dirty, alternative (if you find this one offensive, definitely don’t check out the rest of his videos):
There’s a big toddler update coming, since our kid is constantly saying and doing things that make us laugh and raise our eyebrows… but I simply had to come and post this tidbit before my spacey pregnant brain lets it go.
A wee bit of background: over the past weekend, we finally found a bribe that works on E for potty-training: yogurt-covered raisins. He loves them and he really wants to do his business on the potty in order to get them. He usually calls them a shorter name, “yoga raisins”.
Just now, he wanted to get down from his booster chair because he’s finished his lunch. He had been feeding himself some yogurt, which means he got it all over his bib and other places. He said, “Wanna get down… please.” (He knows to use please, but sometimes forgets.) I looked over at him, and he added, totally deadpan and with perfect pronunciation: “I’m all wet, and yogurt-covered.” SO TRUE.
I first typed BANG Movie Review: Thor, and it just didn’t look right. This movie requires CAPS, people.
See?
I went to see the movie not knowing anything about the comic book it’s based on – except that it deals with the Norse god of thunder. I knew that it starred Chris Hemsworth, that guy from the Star Trek movie, and that he got all HUGE to play Thor. On the way to the theatre, Sean also told me it co-stars Sir Anthony Hopkins, Natalie Portman, Stellan Skarsgard, and Kat Dennings, and that it’s directed by Kenneth Branagh. This was reason enough for a night out (thanks to a birthday present cineplex gift card) to see YET ANOTHER comic book movie.
I’m not saying it that way as an insult. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against comic books in principle. Just because I never read them in my youth (other than Archie, and I know that’s not the same) doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the folklore. I respect my husband’s detailed (geeked-out) knowledge of the differences between DC and Marvel canons. I even read The Dark Knight Returns, to prove my love to him. (It was pretty cool and freaky.) And today, Sean would have been proud of me – a group of my Grade 6 students was trying to remember the regular name of The Hulk, and asked me if I knew. And I totally did, without any hesitation. (Bruce Banner. Not to be confused with Bruce Wayne.) Continued…
Prime Minister Stephen Harper
Langevin Building
80 Wellington Street
Ottawa ON K1A 0A6
Dear Prime Minister,
Firstly, I would like to apologize. I know I have started off on the wrong foot: I am supposed to address you as the Prime Minister of Canada, but with “Harper Government” replacing “Government of Canada”, I got confused as to protocol. Also, I know I am supposed to use the title “Right Honourable Stephen Harper”, but… I simply couldn’t do it. Yet.
Please allow me to explain. On the night of May 2nd, 2011, as my husband and I lay awake, distraught at the looming Conservative majority, he told me not to worry about any disturbing changes that haven’t happened yet. He said, “Who knows? Maybe in a few years we’ll think Harper’s the best Prime Minister ever.” We were too upset even to laugh at such a preposterous joke.
But now, I believe, I understand. I’ve figured it out: why you’ve been governing the way you have, and what your real plan is, now that you have a majority. Let me tell you, I feel so much better, now that I get it.
You see, I decided to take literally the banal comment I saw from a Conservative Facebook user prior to the election: “Better the devil you know.” I decided to read up on Stephen Harper, and I discovered something shocking: that we actually have a lot in common.
Despite your obvious allegiance to the West, we are actually both Ontarians. Although I didn’t attend Richview Collegiate Institute in Etobicoke, I spent time there practice teaching. You were on the Reach for the Top team in high school, and so were all three of my siblings, coming from a family of trivia buffs. We both attended the University of Toronto (even if only for a couple months, in your case). We both have Bachelors and Masters degrees, though in very different subjects; I daresay my fluency in economics is at least as awkward as your fluency in French.
Furthermore, we both are part of religious communities based on the teachings of Jesus. Although your Christian and Missionary Alliance church is considerably more evangelical, doctrine-centric, and salvation-oriented than the unprogrammed Quaker community I belong to, I have to assume that you are serious about your Christian obligations.
At first, this incongruity was very confusing to me: Jesus says to give to the poor, so why the cuts to social programs and foreign aid? He disapproved of the accumulation of wealth, so why the tax cuts to already-wealthy people and corporations? He said “Blessed are the peacemakers,” so what’s with Afghanistan? He said “Blessed are the meek,” so what’s with the fighter jets? And so on.
But when I really thought about it, I came to a realization: for the past five years, maybe more, you haven’t been free to be your true self. Ever since you first became Prime Minister, you’ve been walking on eggshells as part of a minority government, and you’ve had to work to garner more support. You knew that your Conservative Party was the only option for warmongers, homophobes, gas-guzzlers, and greedy people, so you had to pretend to be one of them. You had to play their game until you could get what you needed: a majority government. Now that we can’t be sent to the polls for a non-approved budget – or a pesky vote of non-confidence – now that you are here for the long haul, you are released from your charade! Continued…
When I was three years old, Lady Di and Prince Charles were married. I know I saw footage of the wedding (in replay), and it seemed like the most amazing and wonderful thing ever. Diana’s beauty in her dress made my tiny heart light up. I imagined what it would be like to be one of the flower girls (whose dresses were almost as good, by my three-year-old standards). The prince and princess both smiled radiantly and kissed in front of everyone, which proved to me that they were truly in love.
My sister and I both had copies of the Royal Wedding magazine, which we pored over and kept forever. (Actually, they’re probably still around somewhere. I would love to see them.) With photos like these – which are ingrained in my visceral memory like the pattern on my childhood bedspread – how could royalty be anything less than perfect?
Charles and Diana’s wedding was witnessed by an estimated 750 million people worldwide – the most-watched televised event to that date. Continued…
