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Posts Tagged ‘Movies’

Did the ‘short loop’ around the Greenway this morning with the Bride. She walks her rescue dog Maple, and I trudge alongside with my hiking sticks. Bob stayed home which meant the talk wasn’t all medical. In fact, I told her I was making the corn bread tomorrow for the corn bread stuffing and she was surprised I didn’t use a box-mix. She told me about the yummy pumpkin cake with cream cheese and caramel icing she’s going to make and then stopped on the way back to borrow my cake pans. Americans everywhere are thinking, planning, and shopping for food this Thanksgiving week.

Of course Bob and I bake the stuffed turkey every year, and I do the gravy.

What are your favorite, traditional turkey day sides? Do you continue serving the same old same old carbs and veggies your family put on the table fifty years ago? Since we had craftily avoided family gatherings in the past with our original Big Chill Friendsgiving, we stayed in our own gastronomic lanes. Each couple was responsible for one major food group on the harvest table, and like any good commune we all cleaned and cooked equitably. Bob still put the turkey in the oven, but I didn’t get to make cornbread stuffing. There were no surprises, but OTOH there were no surprises. Not even a Turducken!

Later, we were surprised by a Facetime call with our Twin Granddaughters over lunch in LA. It was hilarious! One girl has been particularly verbal, perfecting saying my name – with a mouthfull of banana pancakes and yogurt all over her sweet face – she repeated NANA, NANA, NANA! I’d like to think she recognizes me in my blue glasses on her parents’ small cell phone? Maybe she just loved the pancakes? But I can’t wait to hear her sister call my name in a day or two. They just went to the pediatrician and they are each 17 pounds!

Here are some comfort foods from my childhood Thanksgivings that have not survived the test of time: creamed onions, green bean casserole, even mashed potatoes! What with all the carbs already present, the simple white russet is no longer necessary. The Bride will however make the yummy sweet potato marshmallow casserole, the cranberry relish, and she’ll roast a bunch of vegetables. The Flapper’s crystal dish of tiny pickles has turned into a modern day charcuterie board before the main meal, filled with cheese, salami and yes, pickles.

And maybe it’s because we’re Southern now, the Bride asked me to make my mac and cheese this year! I grate Vermont cheese and make my own bechamel sauce for our family’s original comfort food.

The Grands have a half day of school today so the plan is to pick them up and head to the movies to see “WICKED for Good!” It opened this past weekend and sold $223 Million in box office seats globally. From The Hollywood Reporter: “Wicked: For Good is a needed jolt for the struggling North American box office in particular, which has suffered the worst fall in decades due to a glut of male-skewing pics and a lack of product for females and families. The movie’s better-than-expected performance more than proves the buying power of girls and women; nearly 70 percent of audience were females.”

And we can’t elect a female president because…? Happy Thanksgiving all y’all! I’m grateful to you my readers, and so grateful to be here, a year after my fall, to love on all my grandchildren. Look at these little gobblers!

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Good Morning! Spoiler Alert about Bridgerton – the jig is up!

We now know who Lady Whistledown is and that Pen gets her man. Amidst all the lies and deceit, love wins! And all the while I’m thinking this Bridgerton husband, fresh off his European tour bedding as many French women as he could find, will surely be giving his new bride an STD of some sort. Why must reality cozy up with a SIX minute sex scene? Maybe when you raise your children during the AIDs crisis, pragmatism kicks in.

I wonder what future generations will say about this time – climate change is a chronic, existential crisis; European elections are tilting to the Right; and America is debating the rules of a debate between a nice guy named Joe from PA, and a delusional, twice-impeached felon named Don! Could Bridgerton be the escape we all need? After all, in the end three new babies are born to fathers who will presumably mend their wicked ways.

Yesterday we celebrated Father’s Day with lunch and a movie, “Inside Out 2.” Temps were in the mid 90s so air-conditioning was an essential part of the plan. As we were walking out, the Love Bug asked me what emotion I liked best? “Ennui,” i said. I thought she should have had a bigger part. I also loved how Joy put Anxiety in a recliner with a cup of tea! Then the Bride said she loved Ennui also, and did we notice she was French? Mais OUI! The Pumpkin wanted to know what Ennui was, and while throwing out our candy boxes at the back of the theatre, I attempted an explanation.

Like the flat, bluish-gray animated character said, she is bored but rarely boring. She was distanced, lethargic like a noodle always lounging around. It’s fascinating that Ennui always had a phone in her hand. While the main character, Riley, is trying to fit in with her peers, all of her “old” emotions are literally bottled up in a jar! Could Hollywood be telling us that suppressing our emotions never works? Notice that Envy, a new emotion for Riley, is kinda cute with sparkly eyes and without a phone in her hand; maybe teens are not so envious of their friends’ social media feeds?

Another Spoiler Alert: Ennui joins Joy to save Riley! Key the eye-rolling, the shrug, the insidious “FINE!”

The good news is that Inside Out 2 is the number one, record breaking film of the year so far. “Pixar’s Inside Out 2 has broken box office records over the weekend as it brought in an estimated $295m (£232.6m) around the world.That makes it the strongest global opening by an animated film of all time, parent company Disney said. In North America, ticket sales hit about $155m, dethroning Dune: Part Two as the holder of this year’s top box office opening weekend.” https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cd114gg38xpo

Hooray! People are getting out, going back to the movies with candy and popcorn, even if it is an animation. I tried watching “Poor Thing” on the plane back from Heathrow, but it just wasn’t sitting well. I turned it off after she killed the toad. I remember the Flapper idolizing Veronica Lake, and Greta Garbo. Garbo’s “I vant to be alone,” was the synthesis of Ennui, and very much like Lady Whistledown. A smart woman, who’s been overlooked and underappreciated with a biting wit and a poison pen. We all need a break from the constant noise! Not the cicadas, those are gone thankfully; the pings and dings of our phones, the podcasts and songs in our ears, the stories we tell ourselves in order to soldier on.

It’s spending time alone, getting to know ourselves, listening to our intuition, that will help teens forge an identity. Ennui is never bored with herself! On the wall is a picture of my Foster Father Jim when he was in the Navy. He’s looking over The Love Bug on ProCreate; we like to get creative in the Snug!

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There were Nazis marching in Nashville this past weekend. They were downtown, near the Capitol building, waving their swastika flags and dressed in black and red, their faces completely covered in ski masks. Not as many as the Charlottesville event that killed Heather Heyer the weekend we moved out of our Virginia mountain home in August of 2017. “Blood Tribe” was the name of this group of men with mommie issues. It’s assumed they didn’t have a permit, since there were no police lines, barricades or counter-protestors.

Just a small bunch of fools that mistakenly made their way towards the honky tonks… where one guy confronted them.

“Video showed a counterdemonstrator following the men along downtown streets, not far from the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum, challenging participants to show their faces. His video captured the march and his reaction.

“Cowards,” the man chanted, adding some expletives.”

https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/neo-nazis-march-nashville-leave-challenged-rcna139415

He was actually yelling “F_ING COWARDS” to drown out their hateful speech. The Nazis retreated to a U-Haul and left the county. Sometimes it only takes one brave person, like the black and white photograph of a man in a German shipyard in 1936, surrounded by his co-workers who are all givng the Nazi salute. August Landmesser stands alone, with his arms folded across his chest. “Landmesser was opposed to the Nazis and their racial worldview. His partner, Irma Eckler, was Jewish.”

It seems fitting that the day before the Nazi rally, our family went to see the movie “Origin.” Director Ava DuVernay brought a highly researched, academic book, “Caste: the Origins of Our Discontent,” to the big screen in a compelling narrative.

“Caste is the granting or withholding of respect, status, honor, attention, privileges, resources, benefit of the doubt, and human kindness to someone on the basis of their perceived rank or standing in the hierarchy.”

DuVernay filmed in Germany, beginning with the love story of August and Irma. Then she moved to the United States with its brutal history of slavery, where we learn that Nazi lawyers actually followed the Jim Crow template in devising anti-semitic rules and regulations. And finally we are shocked to discover the despicable caste system in India; how the lowest caste of untouchables, the Dalits, must live on the margins of society. We are shown, in exquisite detail, the way these three caste systems are similar; not so much rooted in race, but in keeping one segment of society down. Dehumanization is not limited to war, or one particular country.

I thought about how Confederate secessionist symbols are still on seven of our state flags. https://www.washingtonpost.com/history/2023/09/10/confederate-state-flags/ How it took a massacre in Charleston, SC to get Nikki Haley to remove the confederate part of her state’s flag. Germany does not allow any Nazi statuary or symbols to be displayed under penalty of prison. Those Blood Tribe miscreants would have been carted away to jail if they were in Munich.

I thought about how when I was a child, I was told by my foster parents that I couldn’t play with a school mate, because she was Puerto Rican. I heard that one girl couldn’t play with me because I was a Catholic. Bob’s best friend in middle school wasn’t allowed to come to his Bar Mitzvah because, you know, something might happen if he went in there. I didn’t understand it then, and I still don’t. But this weekend has been illuminating.

A portrait in brown, white and red.

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We all barter with ourselves. I’ll order the salad instead of fried calamari to start. If you pass this test, you’ll reward yourself with a night out. It’s our own personal sense of economics – guns vs butter, small decisions we must make, day in and day out. Which is why I find the Republican reaction to the Brittney Griner swap for Viktor Bout so enlightening.

Let’s preface this with my American flight home via Miami. Usually, I will read a good book on an airplane. Have you noticed that along with food, airlines no longer provide a travel magazine in your seat back? I always loved reading that magazine, and even know a travel writer who frequently published her essays in the happy skies. No worries for me; when I travel, jI load a ton of books on my iPad Kindle app, and I even remember to download them before getting on the plane! Imagine my face the first time I discovered this techno blip.

So here we were, in the flight from paradise, forever stuck on the tarmac. First it was our weights and balances. Then it was a delay because we were waiting for a “high priority package.” Bob predicted an organ was about to be transported. But then the Bride’s section said they saw a casket being wheeled out to the plane. Of course, one woman threw a fit and demanded to get off the plane, so they also had to find her luggage…

Needless to say. whatever emergency time cushion we had built into our connecting flight to Nashville was tick-tocking away.

I decided after saying my Hail Marys’ for take-off, that this might be the time to watch a movie instead of reading. Well, all those seat back monitors are gone now too, so it’s a good thing Bob had loaded the American Airlines app on my iPad. While browsing through their free movies, I came upon an old Tom Hanks flick from 2015. “Bridge of Spies.”

Hanks plays a NY insurance lawyer who negotiates the Cold War swap between a young Francis Gary Powers, a U-2 pilot shot down over Russia, and Rudolf Abel, an older Soviet spy…. ps, this really happened! Espionage always thrills me, but that scene when the plane is spiraling towards the ground made me rethink my in-flight entertainment choice. Arrangements were made to do the swap on a bridge in East Berlin. The interesting bit though was that a young economics student had managed to get himself scooped up by the Stazi just as the Berlin Wall was going up!

So Hank’s character naturally insists on swapping the student along with Powers for Abel – two for one. Just in case you may want to watch the movie, I won’t spoil the ending. I also noticed in our recent Griner for Bout swap, that Russian media covered the event live, while we did not, supposedly for our citizen’s privacy. And that Bout was embraced and hugged by someone, while Griner was simply led to a waiting car.

Far be it for me to critique our foreign policy, but I have to admire the Biden White House for negotiating the swap. Could they have insisted that a Marine, Paul Whelan, also be released from custody? Could they have said NO DEAL without the Marine? Sure. But I think Putin has a long memory, and I’d bet he remembers the swap during the Cold War, or he heard about it often as a young boy. And he wasn’t about to give us two prisoners for one again.

Meanwhile, holiday festivities have started off with a bang! I’ve been baking hostess treats and doing cards and walking all over our neighborhood. Yes, My last PT appointment was today, and I’m happy to have graduated!

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You’ve heard of the expression, “Hurry up and wait?”

Well, our old house renovation had been at a standstill for awhile. We were waiting for the electrician, waiting for the custom island, waiting for our sinks to be shipped… Then, just when we landed in the Golden State, everything started up at once – the painters were stepping all over the plumber installing the tankless water heater, and naturally a piece was missing from our custom island.

Well, it’s not actually missing. Turns out, they sent us the wrong piece.

There we were, standing in another line at Disneyland, when Bob’s phone would ring with another construction problem or question. But this wasn’t like our 1980s Disney anymore! Everything is online. If you want to make a droid at the Star Wars exhibit, you’d better make a reservation. And thankfully, Uncle Dave and Aunt Kiki purchased Lightning Lane passes, so time spent waiting for rides was minimal.

It was the trip of a lifetime! To see the pure joy on our Pumpkin’s face was reason enough to go to LA, but seeing how much his Uncle enjoyed exploring “Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge” with him was the icing on the cake of our California adventure.

I remember the Rocker filming stop-action videos with tiny Star Wars characters in our garage when he was about the same age. He could barely balance the huge Camcorder on his shoulder. And now, my son’s company is composing music for Disney trailers. It’s Kismet.

Last night, we returned to a chilly, rainy Nashville. No more hummingbirds, no more heated pool and jasmine-lined cabana. Booking a patio table for eight is a fond memory; all eight of us together was magical, plus we spent a delightful day visiting with California cousins!

Today it’s back to reality and renovation, just the two of us, and our old dog, Bean. I’ve yet to get caught up on the news, but I’ll always fight with the Resistance.

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It’s been a helluva week, played out on the national stage but also on our Music City stage. The body of Debra Johnson was transported back to her home in Nashville yesterday; she was the warden of the state penitentiary, who was raped and murdered in her house on the prison grounds. The manhunt for her killer, Curtis Ray Watson, has been all over the local news for 4 days. He was last seen riding a tractor in her yard – it was a minimum security place and he supposedly had “privileges.”

Only in Tennessee would the getaway vehicle be a tractor.

Since Bob’s been traveling, I’ve been extra cautious walking the dog at night. Our little farmhouse sits on the outskirts of the main drag, away from restaurants and nightlife. But it’s not just wondering where Watson could be hiding, I’ve had some serious social media threats since I posted something about how we might try regulating guns the way our government likes to regulate a woman’s body. Silly, sarcastic me.

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I’ve since been told this was not a Steinem quote, but it should have been! This does not seem like a time to sit on the fence. You are either OK with our country’s fascination with weapons of war, with young white men (for the most part, cause just let a black or a brown guy try that shit) being able to carry these guns all around town showing off their “manhood,” with separating families at our border, keeping people in cages, and raiding their workplace leaving their children waiting at school, wondering if they will ever see them again.

You are either OK with this, or you are not. Silence and indifference is not an option either.

The Bride sent me an article about how more than half of the mass murderers we’ve seen since we started tracking them back in 1966 have basically 2 things in common. You know what the first is – GUNS. But can you guess the second? It’s a hatred, a vile hatred of women. Yessir, misogyny rears its ugly head. “A Common Trait Among Mass Killers: Hatred Toward Women,” by Bosman, Taylor, and Arango.

“The motivations of men who commit mass shootings are often muddled, complex or unknown. But one common thread that connects many of them — other than access to powerful firearms — is a history of hating women, assaulting wives, girlfriends and female family members, or sharing misogynistic views online”

My good friend Bess told me that very thing last year while we were in Italy. She works at a shelter for abused women, and she personally understands how and why a woman might end up fleeing a relationship and fighting for her life.

We both went off to Boston for college in 1966, but she ended up in a cult. The man who persuaded her to sell newspapers on the street eventually ended up controlling every aspect of her life. Bess was my hero in high school, she was the smartest girl in our gang. I never understood how this had happened to her until we talked one night in Tuscany.

Her daughter Gwen is a talented screenwriter who was returned to her mother after Bess finally fled the cult, at first resenting being separated from the only family she had ever known. Gwen’s movie, “Charlie Says,” about the Manson girls, was released this Spring: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt1759744/

Gwen wrote about growing up in a cult for the New Yorker: https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2019/05/06/my-childhood-in-a-cult

“Where are you from?” For most people, this is a casual social question. For me, it’s an exceptionally loaded one, and demands either a lie or my glossing over facts, because the real answer goes something like this: “I grew up on compounds in Kansas, Los Angeles, San Francisco, New York, Boston, and Martha’s Vineyard, often travelling in five-vehicle caravans across the country from one location to the next. My reality included LSD, government cheese, and a repurposed school bus with the words ‘Venus or Bust’ painted on both sides.” And that, while completely factual, is hard to believe, and sounds like a cry for attention. So I usually just say, “Upstate New York.”

In the spirit of peace and love, and the 50th anniversary of Woodstock, I’d just like to say if you didn’t live through the 60s you may not understand. We young people were embittered and embattled by an unjust war, our leaders were being mowed down by guns, and the second wave of feminism was just getting started. Some of us burned our bras and got birth control. While some of us were trying hard just to tread water while not making any waves.

Guess what?! They caught Curtis Watson today. He was hiding out in Henning, TN near the prison. When the Senate is back in session and they want to talk about anything other than an assault weapon ban, let’s pressure them to talk about red flag laws, and in particular guys who have been arrested or dishonorably discharged because of domestic abuse. “Federal law prohibits people convicted of certain domestic violence crimes, and some abusers who are subject to protective orders, from buying or owning guns. BUT there are many loopholes, and women in relationships who are not married to, do not live with, or have children with their abusers receive no protection. Federal law also does not provide a mechanism for actually removing guns from abusers.” 

Loopholes like the one in the Sutherland Springs massacre, where the Air Force didn’t report the shooter’s domestic violence history. Please read this article, it is eye-opening.

 

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We are counting down to Thanksgiving.

My turkey is defrosting, the corn bread is crumbled and the butternut squash is ready for its close-up. Our Big Chill friends Bernie and Ellen arrived Saturday from a frigid Buffalo and are always eager to help, which means today we make a lasagna! Some people have mac and cheese, we have veggie lasagna.

This is the first time in our history where we are expecting one or two die-hard Republicans at the Thanksgiving table. I guess it was inevitable, right? So I thought I’d share this little interactive ditty from the NYT; you decide if your angry uncle is conservative or liberal and then answer a few questions…one little hint. Don’t talk about the weather, because, well you know.

But before you give it a whirl, go see Bohemian Rhapsody. Going to the movies after Thanksgiving dinner has been a tradition on my side of the family. Bob’s side would put all the doctors in a room and hang up a sign for consultations – Aunt Bert would get her knee checked and the latest rash on cousin Amy would be poked and prodded.

Not to brag, much, but I found out on Instagram that the Rocker just won two more Cleos this year!

One for Bohemian Rhapsody, and one for The Quiet Place. Imagine composing music for a mostly silent horror movie! My guy is rather humble, so I had to Facetime him to ask directly what he was getting congratulated about all over social media. When I think about gratitude tomorrow, I’ll think I’m the luckiest mom in the world. Two adult children, both living authentic, creative and challenging lives.

And I’ll be thanking the Bride for hosting all 20 family members, inbetween saving lives and raising children.

OK, now for your angry uncle Bot, or aunt for that matter. This really does work, that is if you want to keep your turkey day civil. Plus, it’s never too late to learn a few new communication skills. Bon Appetit!

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Great Grandma Ada told me the other day that she has the next title for my book, only she couldn’t remember it. It was something like “How to be Happy While Grandparenting,” or “Ten Rules for Happy Grandparenting.”

It had come to her in a dream and of course she didn’t write it down. But she loves it when her Great Grands stop by, and she is always telling me I should write a book! So I thought I’d do a quick synopsis in this post.

First of all – Never (or almost never) follow your children’s rules. This might be easier if your adult child happens to be the Mama/Bride since you raised her, so she knows full well what you are capable of – like showing up out of the blue at a sleepover.

Encourage creativity – For instance, the Love Bug and I spent the morning in a secret garden discovering over 30 species of lilies and getting bit by a thousand mosquitoes.

Switch Things Up – Sometimes we have a “Dessert First Lunch!” We’ve had ice cream first and celebration cheesecake with sprinkles. It’s best not to do this too often because then it’s no longer special.

In that same vein, we LOVE breakfast for dinner!

Talk about diversity – “Pumpkin, you are my cuddle bunny!” And he replies, “No, Nana I’m not white!.” To which I say, “But bunnies can be white or brown, or black and white…” Then he says, “Like Dalmatians?!”

Go to the movies! I spent many years skipping school and taking the Rocker to the movies and now he’s working in the film industry! Every Jersey Girl knows if it looks like rain. hit up your local multi-plex.

I want to be the “Gateaux Maman” as the French say, the Grandmama of Cake – the sweetest, silliest, happiest nana in their universe. So when I am with my Grands, the world is a happy place. Nothing could be finer. We have Pippy Longstocking and Holly Golightly FUN!

Today we had crepes for lunch. Tomorrow, the Love Bug will tell me about her first day at Robotics Camp. And I will ask if she wants to color her hair purple? Or maybe it’s time to pierce her ears? With two parents who are doctors, I must do what I can!

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The General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) law will be enforced in the EU beginning today. It gives people “The right to be forgotten,” which I assume means you could wipe out all online information about yourself. Wouldn’t that be nice?

It is also quite a nuisance for American companies, since some of the biggest tech giants have their European headquarters in Ireland. But let’s face it, in an age when our Facebook data can be sold to Russia for their treasonous purposes, we’d all like to see “Privacy” right up there with Norman Rockwell’s Four Freedoms.

As we were driving home yesterday, Bob said that some electronic billboards will be set up to read your car’s license plate as you meander by, and then custom design ads for you! If you’re driving a Beemer, you’ll get a Tiffany ad – a Jeep might get an Orvis ad. Remember that Tom Cruise 2002 sci-fi movie Minority Report, where he plays a cop who gets the data about an intended murder, and so he arrests the guy?

I remember a scene in the movie where Tom’s walking down a street and the ads are changing as everybody passes them, it’s like that. Now.

But back to Ireland and the soul-searching companies like Google are faced with, here’s an answer: if the Irish vote to repeal the 8th Amendment that bans abortions in the country, then stay and change your privacy laws. Today is the vote. It’s that simple because women’s rights are human rights. Disney told the state of Georgia they would move production to another state if they didn’t comply with LGBTQ rights. Why can’t ethics become a major component of big business? When our governments fail us, capitalism may be able to right our ship.

And in other news about Tom Cruise, the Rocker just finished scoring original music with the theme song for Mission Impossible 6 Fallout. As a kid, I loved Mission Impossible, it was exciting and you never knew if someone was who they say they are. They might rip off a face mask and ta da! Like our Pumpkin tearing off his Hulk mask and showing off his muscles, transformation is a big part of the American Dream. But let’s face it, we are all changing – retiring, traveling, downsizing, aging – transforming our empty nests to at-home gyms.

“This message will self-destruct…” now that was one good privacy feature.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SG2LDczjt5U

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Ann Patchett was sitting right in front of me last night at Parnassus Bookstore. We were listening to Meg Wolitzer read from her new book, “The Female Persuasion,” when Ann (I hope I can call her Ann since I see her so much around town) asked if the sum of a writer’s work isn’t simply an aria – one voice:

“aria, an elaborate accompanied song for solo voice from a cantata, opera, or oratorio.”

In other words, every book you write is saying something about you, about what’s really important to you. Your subjects may change, your place in time or your landscape may change, but your unique Voice, your Point of View comes through consistently, almost unwillingly.

And Wolitzer has written plenty of books, in fact this is her tenth novel. She notes that she actually started writing “The Female Persuasion” a few years before the #MeToo movement, but she has always been interested in female friendships, and the power dynamics in relationships. This book pivots around a college campus where a young female student, Greer with a streak of “electric blue hair,” is mentored by an older feminist writer, Faith Frank.

The audience last night was a mix of ages, young feminists with severely short hair, mixed in with my aging variety and a few men. One shop dog named Bear strolled around the room, while the smaller variety, Mary Todd Lincoln was cradled in a baby wrap on a bookseller’s hip. Wolitzer read from her opening chapter, where Greer is groped by an entitled frat boy at a party her freshman year. I wondered how many of us could relate to that!

I thought about a friend’s son, a quiet innocent boy, who went off to college only to be expelled after an episode with a girlfriend he dared to break up with – he was an unsuspecting sheep while she turned into a wolf. I thought about the UVA Lacrosse player who was killed in her dorm room by her off/and/on boyfriend. And that girl who was raped and left outside a garbage can at Stanford.

“Novels can be a snapshot of a moment in time, or several moments in time, and as a reader that’s what I really like, and as a writer, it’s what I’m drawn to also. It can’t be a polemic. I’m always saying, What is it like? That’s one of the mantras of writing novels for me. And then, in the game of musical chairs, the book is coming out now.”  

http://www.vulture.com/2018/04/meg-wolitzer-doesnt-want-to-be-tied-to-a-moment.html

Wolitzer would call her publisher and ask her assistant first, a millennial, “Before you put me through, tell me, what was it like being a feminist at your college?” 

And that was my question. At my Boston college in 1966 we didn’t have the word “feminism” yet. We couldn’t wear pants outside our dorm, we had to wear a dress or a skirt once we left the brownstone. We didn’t have birth control pills or roofies or mind-altering drugs, yet. There was obviously no social media, if a girl dropped out, you assumed she got pregnant. We didn’t wear bobby socks, we wore knee socks. We had no recourse, no defense; we huddled together and traded tricks sneaking into the Beacon Street residence after curfew.

We had a phone booth in the downstairs lobby!

Strangely enough, Wolitzer hits her mark writing about today’s college culture, about those times in our lives when we meet someone who will change our trajectory. Her generation is just behind mine, a decade younger – the second (or is it third) wave of feminism. And she mentioned that another Nashvillian, Nicole Kidman, has optioned the rights to play her character Faith in the movie.

My first thought was, so Kidman is playing a mid-60 year old woman? And I immediately slapped that thought away as too judgmental, the opposite of feminist, after all maybe Helen Mirren is unavailable!

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