Category - Yada, Yada, Yada

Saw this in the Lance today and I was mortified. Not only because I have already written about how much I have to police other people’s kids at the Y on Fermor, but also that the Lance won’t or can’t write where this happened. “A fitness centre on the corner of St. Mary’s and Fermor.”; Grow some balls and just say at the YMCA on Fermor wherein lies an unsupervised play area where people are encouraged to leave there kids unattended while they work out. It’s not the first time either.

I also love the placement of the YMCA paid advertisement that nicely finishes this piece with…

“We never met a kid whose potential we couldn’t see.”

You could start by seeing that the play area is monitored at bare minimum periodically. I am sure one of your minimum wagers or bubbly volunteers could pop a head in there once every 10 mins to make sure everyone is wearing socks, the appropriate age, or not being molested. Please.

Parents don’t bring your kids with you to work out. It’s cruel, like leaving them in the car on a hot day with the windows rolled up. Bad stuff can happen. If your going to the Y watch them like a hawk or make sure someone else is. For God sakes bring some socks for them.

Normally I stay away from the news because I find it depressing to be thinking negative things all the time. It’s not the murders and the tragedies in the world or even in my community that impact me most. What depresses me about the news is more what people deem newsworthy. It’s depressing to read and hear about what people are concerning themselves with in this day and age. Instead of focusing in on relevant issues I find myself responding to most “news” with “who cares about this?”.

OSD – Over Sensitive Disorder is a choice. People who choose to suffer from this disease often find conflict where there is none.

This week I have found that Sexism is a big newsworthy item among those suffering from OSD. Apparently sexism is still a big problem in our society and (without even looking) I found 3 examples this week to illustrate my point. The first is the offensive poster that was removed from “The Pint” here in Winnipeg. The second was a posting on Facebook of a man in jeans with chiseled abs. The third offensive thing found most rationally sexist this week was a set of toddler pajamas in Target. Hopefully this last one has nothing to do with Target pulling out of Canada but once again I read this and thought…”who gives a shit?”.

It wasn’t the beer that put a bad taste in Ben Wickstrom‘s mouth at “The Pint” here in Winnipeg. It was the offensive poster on the wall of a scantily clad female reaching for a beer. The ad reads “Why guys always keep their beer on the bottom shelf”. Ben was so offended, and got so much support on Twitter that the Pint made an apology and removed the poster.

Now I’m not going to hate on Ben because of his OSD but I certainly don’t see anything offensive here. For one, the girl depicted here is wearing more clothes than most women you see at the beach. The hard nipples are not a stereotype created by men for men – it’s just a natural human reaction to the cold.

Secondly Ben’s argument is also based solely on his interpretation and assumption of the poster. Ben said…

“When you see that on the wall, what does it say to women? It says to them, ‘You’re a sex object. That’s your purpose in our society. You’re there to go fetch beer for men.”

No, that’s what it says to YOU Ben. I look at the same poster and see a woman getting herself a beer. Is it not sexist to think that a woman can’t come home from hard day at work, strip down to her undies, and enjoy cold beer? The poster doesn’t suggest in any way that beer is for her man? It suggests he may have bought the beer and knows his girls daily routine. Good for them. Cause I don’t know any guys who walk around the house in their underwear. It would be stereotypical of me think that I wasn’t the only one. I’m in my gitch right now.

This doesn’t mean I agree with The Pint either. The poster is insulting to men which I assume is 70-80% of their customer base. Another sexist opinion I am throwing out there. It’s based on people I know who are men who go out and drink beer at the pub compared to women I know who do the same. My life experience programs me to think that way and I hope it’s not hurtful to hear that. Regardless, I also envision some marketing executive (male or female) sitting down to create this ad with the mindset that men are stupid animals. That their penis antennae will pick up the signal this poster is throwing and seek out this beer like hypnotized cattle.

I’m appalled. But I also don’t think of myself as one of those cattle. In fact I could visit “The Pint” 100 times and never even see that poster. Maybe it’s because I’m more focused on the people I am there with or even distracted enough by my phone. Or maybe it’s because I don’t look for stupid things to get offended about. Ben Wickstrom is wiping Winnipeg clean of sexism one brand at a time, because he has time. He is also getting so much female attention on his Twitter as a result that I think he should change his aspirations from law to marketing.

Which brings me to the argument I read on Facebook calling out Hooters. Why is there no place like that where women can go and be served by shirtless modern day cowboys with chiseled abs? The sexist answer might be that women are smarter than men. The politically correct answer might be that MOST women are smarter than MOST men. The scientific reasoning behind this is that the biological and genetic makeup of the female genome will not allow them to tip a sexy man like a man needs to tip a sexy woman. The female libido just doesn’t sustain the same economic principles required for an establishment such as this to remain viable. Therefore less male strip clubs, less male prostitutes, and ultimately less male servers. This is not a gender stereotype, it’s scientific reasoning.

Once again it’s all about perception. If a place called Pythons existed where men made the kind of tips Hooters girls make I would quit my job today and go out and buy that Jeep I’ve been wanting. The sexist thing is that they wouldn’t have me. My abs are hiding under layers of marriage, Slurpees, Five Guys, and other such happiness. I know this about myself enough not to hate on my other Python brothers who work on their bodies all in the name of better health, and healthier tips. No such thing as a dumb Hooters girl.

Now the pajamas. Aimee Morrison was shopping at Target posted a picture on Twitter of these toddler pajamas. The blue pair has the Superman logo and reads “Future Man Of Steel” and the pink pair with the same logo reads “I Only Date Heroes”.

Aimee feels like the pajamas are sexist and sexualize baby girls. We caught up to few toddlers on location and asked for their thoughts on this – “Potato!” one girl said, and “Chica Chica Boom Boom!” went the other.

Since we are gender stereotyping here, who says that pink pajamas are for girls and blue pajamas are for boys? If the pajamas had no writing and just the logos would they not be just as stereotypical? Is it maybe because over the years when humans were more distracted with things like survival these colors adhered themselves and now carry some gender specific connotation? Is it hard to fathom that in this day and age, after all the progress we have made with human rights, that some people still hold enough hate in their hearts to outwardly state that pink is for girls and blue is for boys? These people are in our schools, our communities, and our bedrooms. Some of them even make pajamas.

The point is simple…who gives a shit. You want your daughter to walk around in pajamas that say “I only date the homeless” that is your call. You like her in periwinkle blue? Cool buy those ones! Not buying into all that Disney Princess propaganda? Then hide her under a rock! Don’t like it, don’t buy it! When Shan and I found out we were having girls we said out loud, “no pink”. It didn’t stop everyone who knew us from buying something pink and dropping it off. I didn’t think to Tweet “more shitty pink stuff came to the house today…”. My daughter likes “Monster High” right now and I would much rather she was dating a Superhero. Does it mean she’s going to grow up with green skin thinking that stitches on her face are attractive? Not likely, but I give her extra hugs at night just to make sure.

I have a painting in my basement of Carrie Fisher in an R2D2 bathing suit. It’s occurred to me that someone coming into my basement for the first time (who has never seen Star Wars) might perceive it as sexist or racy. Someone who knows me better (who has never seen Star Wars) might still find the picture racy but see my wife’s tolerance of it as progressive. Now someone who has seen Star Wars might see this as art that depicts arguably (depending on your perception) the most influential female character in science fiction history. What I am trying to illustrate here is that any opinions you have coming into my house are based on your own life perceptions. We can both be looking at the same poster and derive completely different opinions of it’s worth. One might describe this poster as “sexist” and another would describe it as “powerful”.

It’s all about perception and each person chooses to perceive things a certain way. Positive or negative. Our perception of the world is ours to sculpt and sometimes our perceptions need a little reinforcement to add strength and security. Twitter and Social Media are the glue that moulds that perception into an opinion and that is the danger. Nothing strengthens a perception more than unloading it on Twitter and watching the skyscrapers rise.

The good news is there is treatment for people suffering from OSD. It’s called CTFO (chill the fuck out). There are real problems in the world that could benefit from your attention to detail.

Now please excuse me while I Tweet this…

This Christmas is coming fast and it’s always a time that seems to hit me hard. Not sure what it is about this time of year but I really seem to put a lot of thoughts together. They’re not bad thoughts per say just thoughts, and lot’s of them. It’s a time where I want the people I care about to know how much I care about them.

Shan and I are lucky to have 2 weeks at Christmas to appreciate our girls and celebrate another year. We have always talked about something we can do to teach our girls about what Christmas is all about. We are not God fearing people so I don’t mean the whole bedtime story that the Church delivers on Christmas Eve. Nor do I want to focus too much on Santa, his list, or his “Elf On The Shelf”. I don’t really want to teach the kids about Christmas at all…I want them to FEEL what Christmas is all about.

This year 1000brushes.ca was born. Nolan has been talking to me for years about all of the things he does for Agape Table and I have always wanted to help out too. I was looking at their website and noticed that other people are helping out where they can too. I was really inspired by the campaign Great West Life did. They wanted to “knock the socks” of Agape’s list of most needed items. So I checked the list this year and noticed that Toothbrushes and toothpaste were topping the list. I figured it would be super cool to ask people for extra toothbrushes they had around the house and then go to Agape on Christmas Break with the girls and hand them out to people who need them. The girls loved this idea and they have been counting and sorting them as they come in. So far we are well over 1000 brushes and nearing the same amount of paste! The response has been overwhelming.

Don’t get me wrong, my girls will still be spoiled at Christmas but they will also get to meet some people more excited to see a little girl with a toothbrush than sweet Santa himself. They will also spend lot’s of time with family, see their friends, and feel a rush of deja vu as they sit down for another Christmas dinner.

My Grandma suffers from dementia and has been placed in an constant care facility. I have been up to visit a few times but it doesn’t feel like I am visiting someone I know. She seems to know who I am by the way she waves at me when I come in. She may be waving at me or the guy she knows that brings her strawberry Menchies. She never says my name anymore but she talks about people in the family. Lexi came with me today and Grandma talked about Marcy being outside and cousin Tracy was in the attic. She couldn’t remember Lexi’s name but introduced her as her granddaughter. In between mouthfuls of frozen yogurt she told us stories about the baby in the office and how she was going home today.

I love seeing her and I know our visits are limited but I feel so depressed in that building I can hardly stand to be in there. It’s a scene out of the Walking Dead with Zombies wandering about, slowly and sure footed, staring blankly ahead. Contained only by and elevator they can’t manipulate on their own. It’s down button covered by a piece of plexi-glass with a small hole drilled in and lined up with the button. Lexi watched a nurse use a straw in the hole to call the elevator and summoned it herself on our way out but to it’s residents a complex puzzle.

I sit amazed just watching. Today they gathered around a TV to watch some vintage Barbara Streisand movie. It was just like when Rick was stuck in the tank and zombies all zeroed in on him. Then when the elevator opened and we stepped out a few heads tuned into us and one was Grandma. From our table I watched as some walked patterns and others slept in chairs not even waking up to cough. One came to us immediately, drawn to Lexi like a poppy in a field of grass. One who walked a pattern yelled from the hallway “SHUT UP!” and then just hobbled around keeping to herself, not saying a word. It looked difficult for her to get around but she didn’t stop moving the entire time we were there. Eventually she passed our table closely and as she passed whispered softly and without looking at me “your child is beautiful”. Her back was already to me as I said “thank you…”. She went on walking aimlessly as if all these bodies were empty just bumping off one another completely unaware of each other.

Another lady with a walker came over and sat down right beside me. She said “It looks like your little girl likes this movie.” “Yes”, I said. Then she said “I’m just going to sit here next to you and when this is over you can get me outta here!”

Not long after that a lady in a wheelchair came over and couldn’t get by the walker. When she went to move my grandma became agitated and yelled at her that it wasn’t her walker and to leave it alone. She seemed really annoyed. I wondered how often she was in these conflicts. Another lady who really seemed to have her wits about her wheeled over another really agitated lady who pointed a finger sort of in my direction and asked me if I was her brother. I was confused at first and just shook my head NO and he asked the lady pushing her what I looked like but before she could answer she said “it’s not him, he would be hugging me right now if it was him…it’s not him…” – I had no idea what to say but my heart broke for her. I hoped he was coming.

When it was time to leave I put on Lexi’s jacket and told Grandma we were heading out and she said “OK let me grab my coat”. I explained she couldn’t come and Lexi pushed her back in front of the tank with the others. I pulled her up in her chair again to straighten her up and we hugged and kissed her goodbye. Lexi called the elevator with the straw like magic and as the door closed in front of us she waved again with Lexi’s paper gold medal in her hand.

A woman who worked there stopped me on the way out and asked my relation to my grandma and I told her. She said to me “she’s the best! Has she always been so funny?” – “More than you know…” I told her, “more than you know!”.

I looked for her in the window on the way out because she used to like watching the people come and go but I don’t think she could get there on her own. I wondered if she was in there today, I mean really in there.