Category: Pop Goes the Culture

Farmville Cash Cow

The Sequined Threat

On By MezzoSherriIn Pop Goes the Culture, Practicing in the Heart, Topics of StudyLeave a comment
Farmville Cash Cow
http://blog.games.com/2011/02/20/farmville-scam-no-free-cash-cows-are-being-given-away/

I knew from yesterday’s exercises that this morning’s concluding movements for the retreat were going to be physical ones. So when I got dressed, I said a small prayer of thanks that I had one T-shirt to wear for the work and a fresh shirt to change into before heading off to the airport and my travels home.

In retrospect, it might have been wiser to switch the order of how I wore these two items of clothing. In my own way of mixing vanity and propriety when I travel, I saved the “dressier” T-shirt for my travels: darker and more subdued colors as well as a subtler design. Dark blue flowers, grey leaves on a dark cocoa background, with a small smattering of sequins across the torso.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. But as it turns out, the security body scanning machine isn’t a fan of sequins, so wearing them may result in you getting sorta-kinda felt up by the lady TSA agent.

———-

Nota bene: As much as I love comic hyperbole, let me be really clear right now about the professionalism shown by the TSA agent in question. She told me what the scanner procedure required, and that she would be using only the back of her hands for this “pat-down.” She made it very clear this was not an enjoyable happening for her, either, and she gave me the option of stepping to a more private location before this extra-level search happened. She also warned me before every body contact within the pat-down, and was as quick as she could be within what was required.

All in all, she did the best she could within the structure to make an invasive and dehumanizing moment as painless as she could. So: honor to her.

———-

Nevertheless, the structure itself was incredibly dehumanizing — something I didn’t really get till I was in the middle of the happening. Foolishly, naively, defiantly, I had chosen not to step to a more private location for the “pat-down.” Naively, because I didn’t quite get how thorough the search was going to be. Foolishly, because I had zero foresight to understand how profoundly shocking this boundary-crossing was going to feel in my system. Defiantly, because even with my limited ahead-of-time understanding about the structure, I knew enough to want it to be out in the open.

Let them see what this system is like. Do not let this be swept over and hidden in the shadows.

No, I don’t really know who the “them” is I want to wake up to this structure. But even now that I know how thorough the search is, and how it really feels to stand and experience that, I have no regrets for staying out in the open for it. Let them see, indeed.

And although today’s happening was an especially charged case study, the principle of how dehumanizing air travel can be holds true in so many other expressions.

Yes, I’ve seen that Louis C.K. bit before. I know how miraculous it is that air travel is available to us at all, and I have profound gratitude at being able to use this miracle in order to attend these retreats, to study, to grow my awareness, and to move my life forward.

But still.

So many elements of airport design and airline systems reduce people to one or all of these things: cargo, cash cows and potential threats. Seats that keep getting more cramped and compressed to increase the profit capacity of each individual flight, and the endless up-charges to try and increase the profit potential from each individual passenger. The continued ridiculousness of taking your shoes off at the security checkpoint. The price mark-up on the Dunkin’ iced coffee bought in the airport as compared to the one a mile down the road from Logan, paired with the regulations that forbid you from bringing the more reasonably-priced caffeinated beverage along on your travels.

I am by no means a road warrior. But I travel enough to have some chances to study these dynamics. And I do see individuals — staff and travelers alike — taking what steps they can to maintain their humanity and bring it into the travel machine in whatever ways they can.

I’ve started making my own conscious efforts in this direction. Saying my “thank you” to someone with attention and sincerity rather than just by rote. Helping someone place a computer cord so he can use the extra plug at the charging station where I’m sitting and feeding my Apple gadgets. Holding my shit together when a TSA agent needs to pat me down rather than exploding any of my triggeredness on her.

But I can’t help but wonder. What would it be like if humanity were intrinsically woven into the travel structure? What would it be like if moments of humanity and connection were part of the design rather than operating as a sub rosa counter-narrative?

After all: how many other structures are similarly ripe for transformation?

dance shoes

Trading Two Left Feet for a Regular Pair

On By MezzoSherriIn Meta-Blogging, Pop Goes the Culture, Self-Acceptance, The Voices in My Head, Topics of StudyLeave a comment

I spent some time this evening getting organized and doing a little packing for my weekend retreat. And I should be doing my homework for said retreat. Instead, I’ve been trying to figure out another blog post while I watch Dancing with the Stars.*

dance shoes
http://www.dance.net/topic/3578896/1/Modern-Photos-Members/Dance-Shoes.html

Like with theater and musical theater, I have loved ballroom and contemporary dance for years. Unlike with musical theater, I have never had talents in that direction, so my love of dance has always been the love of a spectator rather than an aspirant.

(I mean, I can bluff my way through some basic stage choreography, like a lot of community theater participants. I think my natural musicality can give me some help in that department, but nevertheless: this gal would never be considered a triple threat.)

I’ve never been sure how much of my lack of dancing talent comes sincerely from a lack of talent in that direction and how much is the legacy of having lived dissociated or semi-dissociated for so many of my formative years.

There’s probably some aspect of a sincere lack of talent. I’m not naturally athletic in any direction, and I consider dance to be as sincere an athletic endeavor as any other sport. And then, when you look at my natural genetic body shape as compared to the body type of most dancers,** there’s another signal about how I’m not naturally suited for terpsichorean pursuits.

But as I’m learning more and more to live in my body and in communication with my physical self, and as that study overlaps with the possibility of me dipping my toes back into musical theater, I find myself wondering if the flavor of that experience might be a bit different now than from when I was last on stage, some decade or so ago.

Not that I’m expecting to be transformed from a faker to Fosse overnight, but I do wonder if there will be a bit more ease in my next dance audition. Hard to predict, but certainly something to watch.

* Fumbling fingers alert: my initial typing of the title was Dancing with the Tsars. How’s that for a new reality-show concept?

** You will, perhaps, notice that I don’t even list ballet as a dance style I’m strongly a fan of. That shit is just way too body dysmorphic for my tastes.

Theatrical Greasepaint

The War of the Greasepaint

On By MezzoSherriIn Pop Goes the Culture, Self-Acceptance, The Voices in My Head2 Comments

Mr. Mezzo and I made an excursion tonight to see a high school production of the musical Once on This Island.* I know: this is either a completely bizarre or completely banal and suburban choice. Perhaps both.

But, one of the guys we sing in church choir with is a retired HS music teacher, so he’s still plugged into “the scene” (such as it is). He mentioned at Wednesday’s rehearsal that this was a really good production. And, setting aside the question of production quality, it’s undeniably a great show. So off we went.

(As far as I can tell,the production was a good one for a high school show. I realized partway through the first number that it’s been YEARS since I saw anything more amateurish than a cast that integrated college drama majors with professional actors. I know it’s really unfair to compare those shows with tonight’s, but I was quite aware of the contrast between then and now.)

Theatrical Greasepaint
http://www.cosmeticsandskin.com/bcb/greasepaint.php

But, more than any unfair comparisons between the quality of Philadelphia professional theater vs. Boston-area suburban high school productions, what this really got me thinking about was the fact that I like musical theater more than I like classical choral music. How much I love it, actually. How much I miss it, and all the ways it broke my heart and shattered my self-confidence.

I’ve always loved musical theater, and yet a majority of my performing arts training and experiences have been in classical music ensembles. There’s a reason for this. Lots of people love doing musicals, and even if I have some native singing and acting talent, I’m rarely talented enough to make it out of the chorus. (Or even to make it INTO the chorus, a lot of the time.) I’ve certainly never been talented enough to make up for all the ways I’m not conventionally attractive enough to get a “good” part.

Especially as I think back to my own times in high school productions, I recall how desperate my yearning was to have a role where I could really be seen and acknowledged, and how the comparison piece — uglier than this girl, less talented than that one — always kept that door closed.

I’ve even been thinking back on the only audition I ever deliberately tanked. A story I haven’t brought to mind for a long, long time.

———-

The high school drama teacher wanted me to read for Cha Cha diGregorio in Grease. She pulled me and the other auditioner aside to make sure we knew that, unlike the way that character was portrayed in the film, she wanted to have the Cha Cha in her production to be slovenly, unsexy, unattractive. “I need to know if you’re comfortable being really uglied up.”

I said I was fine with it. I didn’t have the awareness to see, or the courage to say, how soul-destroying this scenario felt — all the ways I was already seen as ugly and beneath notice on a daily basis, and then to somehow go uglier for the sake of the show. And the instinctual certainty that whatever “uglier” happened for the show would follow me into my daily traverse of the classrooms and halls.

I wasn’t entirely awake about throwing that particular callback. I just kind of left my body. Which, in passing, is a pretty effective way to make sure you don’t get a particular role.

———-

During college and grad school, I got more into the choral singing thing but kept a toe in the amateur musical theater world. Then, I let theater go entirely and stayed on the community chorus path for a while. In some ways, it was an easy choice to make: a major city like Philly has so many professional actors, theater companies, and national tours of Broadway shows that there really isn’t room for amateur musical theater to happen.

There’s also a lot of ways classical choral singing is safer. Fewer people want to do it, so there’s less competition. And in most cases, there’s no harm in adding another good, trained singer to the mix, so my odds of “making the cut” stay high. And since members of each section are all singing the same thing, there isn’t that same comparison charge around who got the lead and who didn’t.

And yet. I think I love theater more.

I’ve started doing some research about what community theater companies are in the area. Trying to feel into the idea of auditioning. Figuring out if my ego is sufficiently in-check for me to be okay even if I only get into the chorus of a show, or don’t get in at all. Wondering if I’m sufficiently aware of being “over the hill” that my aspirations might be more realistic than they used to be. Wondering if my sense of “loving theater more” is truly sincere or is just a deeper winding of that addictive desire towards being acknowledged or acclaimed.

I don’t know yet what I’m feeling. And I don’t yet know what I’m going to do.

* Shall I confess the amount of thought and research that went into the question of whether or not the “this” should be capitalized?

organ pipes, close-up

Respect or Complicity?

On By MezzoSherriIn Pop Goes the Culture, Practicing in the Heart, Spirituality, Topics of StudyLeave a comment

organ pipes, close-upThe concert went well. My packing tape hem didn’t deconstruct itself, the choir kept itself together and stayed attentive to our conductor, the soloists were fantastic, and we all muddled through some, er, “imperfections” in how the organist handled her duties.

After we were done singing and we’re listening to the Widor Toccatta that closed out today’s program,* I found myself reflecting on the many ways that involvement with classical choral music so often creates some tight interweaves with the Christian church tradition. After all, so much of the repertory, even up into the 20th century, was written to be a part of the church music tradition. And then there’s all the times community choirs use churches and cathedrals as concert locations.

This was all very present to me as I sat in a pew after singing an oratorio depicting the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, standing on a choral riser right next to a big wooden cross adorned with a crown of thorns and a white linen cloth.**

I am not a Christian. If I had to name my spirituality, I think the closest I could come right now would be to call myself a “UU Buddhist witch.” And yet, here I am, reclaiming my place as part of a musical tradition that is very much Christian.

Not all of it, of course. This particular choir I chose to join caught my eye because they’d programmed a setting of Mary Oliver’s poems by a composer whose e.e. cummings settings I have performed and deeply admired in the past. That greater breadth in programming is one of the things I look for in a choir. But even in a group that looks to widen its programming choices, there’s no escaping a heavy dose of Christianity in the music programming.

And I am so of mixed feelings about it.

On the one hand, much of this repertory is what I “cut my teeth” on since I began training my voice at the age of 9. There’s memory and affection tied up in here. And a lot of it is legitimately beautiful and moving — showing once again how something rooted in authentic creativity can often cross boundaries of historical, national or ideological separation.

And yet. I remain deeply concerned at the ways the narrative of Christianity is still so predominant in the USA. Just a couple of days ago, Alabama’s Supreme Court Chief Justice declared that the First Amendment of the Constitution only protects Christians, because “Buddha didn’t create us, Mohammed didn’t create us, it was the God of the Holy Scriptures.” Now, this is, obviously, both a legal and a historical fallacy, but I find it rather terrifying that a state supreme court justice (chief justice, no less!) would take such an ignorant and narrow-minded position publicly. (And without any negative repercussions, so far. That detail alone should be enough to show the ongoing cultural hegemony of Christianity in the states, today.)

So, in re-engaging with the classical choral tradition, to what degree am I re-opening to my own creativity and expression? To what degree am I showing respect to past composers and their creations, understanding the historical moments and context in which they worked?

And to what degree am I simply complicit in reinforcing the suppressive nature of dominant cultural structures, rather than engaging in resistance or offering counter-narratives?

I don’t know the answer to these questions. But I think I’ll be studying them for some time now. There’ll be another choral season starting in September, and in the meantime, I’m considering trying out for a local music theater production next month.

If I choose to do that (and if I were to get a part), there will be the chance for a whole new study around cultural narratives of gender, love and marriage.

* This organ piece went fine. The bitchy Mezzo in me wonders if the organist spent more time preparing her “spotlight” piece than her accompaniment for our oratorio.

** The crown of thorns I get, but I gotta admit, I’m rather clueless about why the white cloth gets draped there. The shroud he left behind in the tomb?

———-

Image credit: http://www.transformingeveryguest.com/2012/09/sermon-work-in-progress.html

My Fair Lady

On By MezzoSherriIn Pop Goes the Culture, Practicing in the Heart, Spirituality, The Voices in My Head, UncategorizedLeave a comment

I’ve been thinking a bit about fairness the past few days, and the ways I value and desire a sense of fairness in things. My thoughts are a little scattered tonight, so I may just rocket through a few different angles on the topic, rather than pretending I have a cohesive essay to share.

standardizedanimalsOne of the most common adages that comes to my mind when I invoke the concept of fairness is that old saying: “Life isn’t fair!” And there are times that I do remind myself of that fact. Because sometimes my wishing for fairness does come from the a child’s magical-thinking place, where I’m wanting a “big daddy in the sky” sort of God to pave the way for me to have an easeful and trouble-free life.

So when I’m invoking the term fairness as code for “privilege,” it is something that deserves to have a question mark placed in there, with the reminder that fairness in one’s external circumstances is never guaranteed. And also, for whatever mishap might have me wishing life were more fair advantageous, the fact remains that I have received many gifts from life for which I ought to be grateful.

———-

One of the things we talk about at work is the way that “fair” does not necessarily mean “equal.” Since we spend some portion of our time working to serve students with learning differences or other special needs, it is likely unsurprising that we would resonate to the insights of Dr. Richard Curwin in this recent(ish) Edutopia post:

But what is fair? Many define it as treating everyone the same, but I would argue that doing so is the most unfair way to treat students. Students are not the same. They have different motivations for their choices, different needs, different causes for misbehavior and different goals. I think this is good, because wouldn’t the world be very boring if we were all the same?

The cartoon above signals some of this, as does a quote I have up on my cubicle wall:

Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.*

———-

The one place where I am most deeply studying fairness is the depth of my desire for people to emulate fairness in our dealings with each other. I know I am driven crazy by those petty sorts of individual inequities that arise during interactions — people changing the rules on each other, situations where I might hold myself to a looser standard of behavior than I ask of those around me (or vice versa). And then, more deeply, there is the heartbreaking injustice of systemic unfairness wrapped up in cultural ills and prejudices.

It is with these areas of human unfairness — whether on a personal or a systemic level — that the adage “life isn’t fair” rings hollow to me. Like it’s just a cop-out to spare ourselves the effort of practicing deeper levels of kindness and compassion with how we see each other and hold each other in regard.

* If you were to google this, most sources would cite this quote to Einstein, but that’s probably an apocryphal attribution.

———-

Image credit: http://www.joebower.org/2014/03/what-can-we-learn-from-honduruss.html

Sliding Into Home

On By MezzoSherriIn Detox Journey, Meta-Blogging, Pop Goes the CultureLeave a comment

Even though I tried to be careful in planning my re-entry from the detox “kickoff” trip, I gotta say that I am exhausted here at the end of the (abbreviated) work week. I’m also having another day where the bodily effects of the detox are in my awareness as mild aches and, more than than that, just a general logy feeling.

So right now, I’m contemplating between two options:

  1. Taking an Epsom & baking soda detox bath before going to bed; or
  2. Just going straight to bed and leaving the bath for tomorrow

You will notice that “blogging” does not hold a prominent  place on my tentative agenda for the evening, which is why I’m writing this brief “why I’m not posting” post.

In apologies for my slackerness, here’s a video from Pentatonix:

(Tickets to see them next Saturday! Yay!!)

 

Looking for My Emerald Specs

On By MezzoSherriIn Pop Goes the Culture, Practicing in the Heart, Spirituality3 Comments

So d’you remember how in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz — note this is the title of the L. Frank Baum novel, not the Victor Fleming*/Judy Garland film — it turns out the Emerald City’s glorious emerald oversheen is caused by these lovely green goggles that get locked onto your head as soon as you get within the city walls, not be removed until you depart?

Why no, these things we've LOCKED onto you aren't significant in the littlest tiny bit....
Why no, these things we’ve LOCKED onto you aren’t significant in the littlest tiny bit….

I’m not really wanting some emerald overlord to lock more glasses onto my head. (The vision corrective specs I must to wear daily are rather enough on that score.) But I do find myself wishing for something spiritually similar to that tonight.

A coworker who I sometimes find challenging has been particularly so the last couple of days. She’s been running a bit of a martyr-complex kind of game, with all sorts of guilt-trippy chit-chat about how we don’t understand how HARD she’s working. And yet when any of us try to offer assistance or to share the workload, we are well and truly rebuffed.

It feels like a bit of a no-win situation, but I don’t especially feel like spinning through all my ego-emotional triggers around it. Instead, I’m on a bit of a different train of thought.

I truly believe that everyone has that intrinsic spark of divinity** within them. A “heart-self,” for lack of a clearer way to say it.

And I also believe that sometimes negative behaviors emerge because someone is unconsciously trying to get a little bit of care, attention, energy for their heart-self, but their past experiences have taught them the only way to get energy is to run these sorts of dysfunctional games. (I know for damn sure I’ve done that lots of times within my OWN limitations.)

So at one very small level, I can have compassion for this co-worker as I imagine the desire to get some energy for her heart-being. But the challenge I’m feeling is that I’m so triggered by the no-win/guilt trip/rejection cycle that I am not finding any capacity to actually see her heart-being.

Which brings me back to the magic specs. Wishing for that heart-colored lens or filter that I could hold in front of my eyes and see this woman’s heart-self. See everyone’s heart-self. See my world and the people in it with a lot more kindness, compassion, and acceptance.

Of course, the wizard’s magic was all humbug in that book, so I’m guessing that my ability to see beyond the behaviors into the heart-self is going to be a lot more about practice and prayer and a lot less about being the child who gets a magic present.

* I know. That’s not really even half of the directorial lineage here.

** Spirit, light, heart, authenticity….whatever name for the “Big Good Thing” speaks true for you.

——-

Image:

http://store.tidbitstrinkets.com/blog/?p=3237
(Responsibility for the caption 100% mine)

More to Love: “Real Women” and Reality TV

On By MezzoSherriIn Fat is Just an Adjective, Pop Goes the CultureLeave a comment

My DVR has been somewhat on the fritz of late.  It’s still good with the recording what I want and with basic playback, but not so good with the fast forwarding*  The unexpected — one might even say unwelcome — side result is that I’ve been seeing a lot of commercials for Fox’s new reality dating series More to Love while I’ve been getting my obligatory So You Think You Can Dance fix.

More accurately, I’ve been seeing the same commercial over and over and over again…. It’s the one that starts by saying (to paraphrase) “The average woman is a size 14/16. The average female reality show contestant is a size 2. You call that reality?!?” Then the roast of the ad goes on to lay out the premise: 20 “real-sized” women will via for the affections of Luke Conley. In the clips from the initial meetin’ and greetin’, one of the contestants even goes so far as to express her pleasure that Luke likes “real women.”

Le sigh. How does this bug me?  Let me (incoherently) count the ways:

  1. However much the ex-grad-student in me appreciates the pomo/meta irony of a reality show ad commenting on the unreality of reality TV, I am still a bit galled at the disingenuousness of this opening.  Hey, here’s a wacky notion: if there has been a disproportionate representation of hollywood bods on reality TV, d’you think that might be because of the deliberate casting choices of those of you creating reality TV?
  2. Real woman, misspeaking. I get that fat bodies are usually troped as ugly, unattractive, desexualized — even how the discourse around fatness can be so dehumanizing that it makes sense to stand up and claim one’s humanity and womanhood. But to do so in a way that (intentionally or no) implies that skinnier women are unreal? Really not helpful. I understand that the contestant claiming her “real woman” status may well have taken a more nuanced position, so I’m not sure whether I’m frustrated with her or the magical editing elves. Either ay, I’m frustrated. Denigrating other body types just isn’t gonna help with the project of getting folks to stop denigrating fat body types.
  3. Real women, nitpicking. On my side of the TV screen, I’ve seen some people respond to this commercial with an argument that goes along these lines. “They say the average woman’s size 14 to 16. Well, these women look to be size 18 and up. What’s with all these disgusting fatties?” Way to miss the fucking point.

Is it really that hard to grasp? All women are real women. All women deserve love, and partnership if they so desire it. The skinnies, the fatties, the average 14-16s, the inbetweenies. Nothing about this whole tangle of fat acceptance, body acceptance, self-acceptance will be helped by finger pointing and denigrating, whether in a carefully edited soundbite on the television, or a clever-intending bit of snark on Teevision without Pity.

All that said, I have to admit I have a uneasy wonderment about how the show is actually going to go. I’ll likely have more to say once I’ve actually seen the premiere, rather than just a single commercial.

* And really, isn’t the capacity to ff through commercials the sine qua non of what makes DVR so great?

ETA: I’m not surprised to see so many other fatosphere writers taking on this topic. For full-on reviews, see Kate Harding’s over at Shapely Prose and Marianne Kirby’s over at The Daily Beast.