52: The Year of the Flying Leap

Today, I celebrate another trip around the sun.

I've been doing this for more than a half-century now, so I feel like I've got a handle on birthdays. Every September 1, I try to take stock of the previous year and pick out a theme for the year to come.

This time, it's a no-brainer. I'm calling 52 "The Year of the Flying Leap." Because I just took a big one.

I've got a little experience with this. Six years ago, I left a 20-year career in journalism and took an entry-level position in marketing. Five years before that, I moved 700 miles to take a job I wasn't exactly sure I had.

And here I am, taking another flying leap away from a steady, secure, full-time job. Where I'm going sounds cool and cutting edge, the place I have always believed journalism should go. But there are no guarantees.

None at all.

Twelve years ago, I learned guarantees are really just figments of our imagination. My father worked every day of his life and just when he should have been enjoying a comfortable retirement, he was diagnosed with cancer. Two years later, he was gone.
 

I had always heard nothing on earth is promised to us. I just didn't believe it until then.

Thirteen months after Dad passed, I took the biggest flying leap of my life - and found a community that now feels like home, not to mention the last, best love of my life.

Five years later, I took another big, flying leap away from everything I knew how to do and into an enriching, creative adventure.

Now here I stand again, on the edge of a cliff.

And I can't wait to see what comes next.

Full circle

Today, I emerged from the haze of summer school, clutching a bundle of new thoughts about feminism and gender, and my stack of now-useless textbooks, and what did I find?

A world gone mad.

While I read chapter after chapter of feminist theory, a group of conservative women in politics began calling themselves Mama Grizzlies and announced their plan to take back America.

While I underlined and highlighted significant passages on gender schemas, two women were sworn in as Supreme Court justices, but only after having their sexuality questioned.

While I plowed through multiple choice quiz questions, The Atlantic's Hanna Rosin pondered "The End of Men".

And as I took my final, two women writing for Forbes.com suggested maybe marrying for money is the smart thing to do. I'm glad they did, it's a nice way to wrap up the summer.

Let's start there, with the horrifyingly cynical argument that it makes more sense to marry for money. Elizabeth Ford and Daniela Drake, M.D. consider themselves "smart girls." After watching so many smart, professional women still working long hours, while dumber girls reveled in the lifestyle that comes with marrying into wealth, they decided those dumb girls must be on to something:

Let Wonder Woman be Wonder Woman

The new costume is "a look designed to be taken seriously as a warrior, in partial answer to the many female fans over the years who've asked, 'how does she fight in that thing without all her parts falling out?,'" Straczynski said in his online posting. -- CBC News

In my youth, I loved Wonder Woman. Well, Wonder Woman as portrayed by Lynda Carter. The DC comic books were by brother's territory.

But on the small screen, Carter's extraordinarily fit physique gave that cheesy red, white and blue costume some credibility. She carried herself tall and proud, standing toe to toe with those crazy Nazis who were out to destroy the world. After the series tanked in 1975, I lost track of Wonder Woman. I didn't keep up with her comic book adventures and the evolution of the character.

So when I started reading all the buzz about Wonder Woman's new look, I got curious. Mostly, I wondered why everyone was so concerned about her clothing, and the message it sends. The new duds - basically a form-fitting blue jacket and pants - have been described as "dowdy," "new and not improved," and "Goth Day at the Sherman Oaks Galleria." DC Comics has ruined Wonder Woman, stolen her feminist identity and all her pizazz. She's ruined, they say. Ruined.

Well, here's what I say: Sisters, seriously - snap a grip.

Lighten up: Sex and the City : 2

The reviews are in, and Sex and the City: 2 sucks.

I went anyway. And in defiance of common wisdom, really enjoyed myself.

This particular franchise isn't likely to toe any particular cultural line. We're talking about four fictional characters crafted to reflect a complete lack of propriety: Carrie - who had trouble with fidelity and an irresponsible obsession with shoes, Miranda - who got pregnant out of wedlock, came close to having an abortion and then dumped her boyfriend to marry the father of her child, Charlotte - and her inappropriate insistence on appropriate behavior, and Samantha - who simply redefines the word "inappropriate".

Here's what I expected: Over the top storyline, outrageous fashion, opulence and wealth, and a little sex and romance thrown in for good measure. That's what I got.

I coveted Miranda's camel-riding outfit.

I laughed at Samantha's rage against the menopause.

I empathized with Charlotte's heartbreak at not being the perfect mother.

I mulled over Carrie's struggle to be married, after years of single life.

Was I supposed to do anything else?

We all have guilty pleasures, things we enjoy that we believe we're not supposed to enjoy. Trashy novels, junk food, brain candy - none of it's meant to be taken seriously. I don't know about you, but I need that stuff right now. Like the ladies of Sex and the City: 2, I occasionally need to find a place where nothing matters but having fun. In fact, I think our souls shrivel if we don't lighten up at least once in a while.

That's what I went to do: lighten up. And I had a good time.

Except the part where I paid $12.50 for a bag of popcorn and a large Coke Zero. And why is it movie reviewers never say anything about that?

Defending beauty queens

The most unlikely people are defending Miss USA Rima Fakih.

Feminists. Feminists are defending a beauty pageant winner.

The women of The View pooh-poohed provocative pole dancing photos revealed by Detroit radio jock Mojo the morning after the contest. Old-school feminist Joy Behar noted Fakih's attire was hardly shocking, and Sherri Shepherd pointed out photos of the contestants aired before the contest were far more revealing. The conversation focused on the reality of this competition, which - as Whoopi Goldberg said - is all about "how you look."

But the real surprise came on the Ms. Blog, where Fakih got well-deserved feminist props for her statement that birth control should be covered the way other medications are covered by insurance. Kate Whittle also decried the subtle - and not so subtle - racism and sexism that have followed behind the pageant.