Very early in life, my daughter began calling me Mom. Or Mama. Or Mommy. Her brother picked up the habit. The behaviorist who comes to our house finds this troubling. She always issues corrections. Papa. That's Papa. And I'm reminded of a colleague from an elementary school. This colleague would always demand that children use realistic colors in coloring assignments. Flesh could never be green or hot pink. Hair could never be tangerine-colored. I found this tyrannical--and I think I did not make much of an effort to disguise the rolling of my eyes. My daughter seems (at times) to want a world in which everyone is slightly more flexible about gender--and I'm on board. I believe I have persuaded her to wear a dress that advertises prime numbers. A break from the unicorns and princesses. The dress is called "Prime Twins," and it "celebrates" certain pairs. 11 and 13. 41 and 43. Pairs of primes that are separated by exactly one composite number. When my d...
Season Nine of "The Simpsons" is special because of "Kicking It: The Betty Ford Musical." This is a spoof that appears in "The City of New York Versus Homer Simpson." Marge wants to travel to 42nd Street. "I've always dreamed of being in an audience in a Broadway show." The musical she selects features a young Justin Bieberesque ne'er-do-well: No more pills or alcohol-- No more pot or Demerol-- No more stinkin' fun at all! I'm CHECKING IN. One might think this is broad satire--but what is brilliant is that "Checking In" features the *exact* "tier" of writing quality that you could expect in a contemporary Broadway musical not authored by Stephen Sondheim. This is the opening of "Wild," a song that is considered a standout in "The Lost Boys": I remember how it used to be... Times were innocent, and love was free. We'd play guitar and dance... Singing...GIVE PEACE A CHANCE! (Frankly, I pr...