Just Not Quite as Popular as Me

I don't do it often, but I have been known to walk out of a movie now and again.  A short list:

• "As Good as It Gets"--did not distract me AT ALL from the upcoming California bar exam.
• "The Mirror Has Two Faces"--Can Barbra be any more vain?
• "Baby Mama"--Only saw that to get out of the house during maternity leave.  J nursed throughout; I cringed and bolted.
• "The Artist"  Actually, that was a mental walkout.  I stayed because it was at the Columbian and I wasn't done with my IPA.

I should point out that this list does NOT include many, many children's movies I would have walked out of but for my shorties.  I'm talking to you, "The Lorax." You, too, "Chipwrecked."

To that list, I can now add "The Avengers."  I only watched the first hour, so maybe the second hour tied it together, but this is a movie without any real plot.  A fine exemplar of pop culture, it involves a bunch of superheroes and Norse gods (or maybe a god and a jotunn) brought together, as far as I can tell, to continue their branding and maybe sell some Happy Meals along the way. There were lots of references to their previous movies, none of which I had seen, but that didn't impair my understanding. The actors seemed to be phoning in their roles, or maybe they were mentally spending their paychecks.  Just an all-around waste of money, time and resources.  

WTF?

Which is fine, if you like that kind of thing. 

Of course, this isn't really my kind of movie.  I'm not highbrow in my cinematic taste, but I am not big on adventure films.  So why was I there?  Honestly, because I was craving Sour Patch Kids and movie-theater popcorn.  Once I had slaked that desire, I was free to leave the theater.  And so I did.

Oh, and also? Captain America has a mighty fine ass.  Just saying.

Yummy!

On to other things. 

The Fab Five

It's May, so I am actively engaged in cramming playing pop radio to hide my un-cool, super-embarrassing, over-40-ness when C comes for the summer.  Of course I know "We Are Young," "What Makes You Beautiful" and "Part of Me."  Who doesn't?  I'm hip! I'm the coolest step-MILF evah, right?  Right!

But it's hard for me.  Save for my first couple of years of college, I've never really known the cool songs.  In high school, I had my showtunes.  At U of I, the amazing LeighAnn introduced me to alternative music (New Trier/John Hughes version).  It all went downhill after graduation.  And now?  I get no help at home, either, since G is stuck in the 80s.  Big Head Todd--really?  

So when C comes, I have to fake it.  I wish I had Sirius or XM in the car so I could figure out who was singing and what the name of the song was.  It seems to me that DJs used to announce that, but they don't anymore.  So I have to go home and Google a couple of lyrics.  And so I learned that Rihanna--sweet Rihanna of "Under My Umbrella" fame--now sings (in the classic "S&M") that "chains and whips excite" her.  Not really where I want my 11-year-old to go, you know?  And that song is 2 years old.  See how out of touch I am?

But there is one place even I won't go.

I'm talking to you, Maroon 5.

You're no Mick Jagger.

How do I hate you?  Let me count the ways.  Oops!  Infinity already!  My dislike isn't founded on anything objective.  I'm just a Maroon 5 hater.  And hater gonna hate, KWIM?  It's my job.

Which brings me to My Little Pony.

I repeat, WTF?

Taking pop culture down to the pre-school set, why do four-year olds love these things?  Can it really be that soothing to brush and braid some pony ass hair?  Yes, they smell good (in a Glade air freshener kind of way), and yes, they have magnetic feet so you can hang them off the refrigerator in death-defying poses.  (Ask me how I know.)  If there's more to it than that, it's a mystery to me.

Edited December 2012--turns out, only the old ponies (of which we have far too many thanks to C's bestie, M) are scented and magnetic.  Christmas brought us some updated ponies.  No smell!  No magnets! I'm old-school Pony all the way.

So, yes, I hate My Little Pony, too.  Almost as much as I hate Strawberry Shortcake.

Bitch makes my teeth hurt.

And don't get me started on Mr. Noodle.

Once more, with feeling...WTF?

However.  My feelings about ponies, berries and pedophiles pale in comparison to my hatred for those fuzzy, hillbilly-esque, goody-two-shoes known as The Berenstain Bears.

Do kids really like books about how

• Junk food is bad
• Too much TV is bad
• Bad grades are bad
• Bullying is bad
• Lying is bad

On a positive note, praying appears to be good.

These are probably the only books of C's that I did not save for J. They make my skin crawl. Too many morals, too many lessons. I try to teach my girls that, sometimes, it's good to be bad. Or at least it's not the end of the world if you are. They sleep easy knowing that I will never commit their exploits to insipid, mass-marketed paperbacks or TV shows. And, yes, it is ironic that these bears have their own TV show.

J's favorite book?  This week anyway...

My favorite book when I was four?

I guess my lack of cool started early.  I've had years decades to manufacture the hot mess of dorkiness that I am today.  But my mission, which I choose to accept, is to reverse that in 17 short days.  Join me!