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Elaine's writing has finally tumbled into cyberspace! After writing content under the radar for other websites, she is coming clean and tagging her opinions, humor and sarcasm with her own name.

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Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Neutering Lucky

If you’re a regular reader of Thoughts2Page, you’ll know that I get my panties in a bunch over the potential banning of a book. I have huge issues with anyone being denied the opportunity to choose what they – or their children – read. In recent days, another book has caused a hullabaloo… and it’s all because of one word.

SCROTUM.

Did you catch that?

I typed: SCROTUM.

Are you all still with me? I thought so.

Now, how many of you are thinking, “Yeah ok. Scrotum. Big deal. What’s she on about this time?”

Well, the inclusion of that word on page one of a book called, “The Higher Power of Lucky,” by Susan Patron, has some school librarians all over the United States in an uproar. They want to ban this book... again, based on ONE WORD. And, “The Higher Power of Lucky” is not just any book, either… it won this year’s most coveted prize in children’s literature, The Newbury Medal.

But… that significant accolade aside… it has the NERVE to contain the word SCROTUM.

I’ve done some research about this book and it turns out that Lucky is a 10 year old orphan girl who, among other things, is getting all set to be a grown up. She hears a conversation through a wall where someone says they saw a rattlesnake bite their dog on the scrotum. As a 10 year old, Lucky is intrigued by the word. She finds it incredibly interesting because of how it sounds.

Yet, “how it sounds” to a bunch of elementary school librarians is ban-worthy. One went so far as to say that “quality literature” does not contain “men’s genitalia.”

For heaven’s sake!

The author, a public librarian herself, did not write that the dog was bitten on its BIG, HAIRY BALL SAC!! She wrote “scrotum” – and there actually WAS a dog that was bitten in just such a manner. She was relating a true incident.

Evidently, one of the justifications for a ban is that certain people don’t want to have to explain the word “scrotum” to the intended audience, which is 9-12 year olds. I say that you explain things in an age-appropriate manner. Could children (IF they even bother to ASK!) not be told that a scrotum is a pouch of skin on the dog’s underside and leave it at that? Will they be traumatized for life?! Seriously, how many kids have probably already been exposed to an unaltered family dog, sprawled open for the whole world and Grandma to see, going all to town licking JUST such an area?

The problem appears to be that some people get so hung up on words that they lose sight of CONTEXT. I really don’t find anything salacious in the description of the injury to the dog. Yet, the offended librarians feel that it disqualifies the book from being able to be read aloud because no one would want to have to say – or explain – “the word.”

With all the vulgar, HATEFUL words that come out of 10 year olds’ mouths these days, they don’t want to have to explain the anatomically-correct term “SCROTUM”?

I think some of these librarians might be well-served to let their buns down for a day or two and spend some time out on the playground, rather than in the stacks. It seems that, instead of living in the MTV generation, they’re still stuck in “The Wonder Years.”

Now THAT reminds me of an interesting bit of trivia. Did you know, in that very successful, well-loved, long-running, Emmy and Peabody Award winning television show, big brother Wayne Arnold had a nickname for his little brother, Kevin?

Sure did.

He called him “Scroat.”

Just sayin’.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

Earning Sincerity Points

Well, it’s here again. That day of the year that people find so abysmal… so depressing… so deplorable that they just can’t get out of bed to face it.

No, no! NOT tax time… that ugly S.O.B. is still lurking in the shadows.

I’m talking about Valentine’s Day.

I recently read an article that labels January 24 as the “worst day of the year.” It seems that is the day that folks are the most down over things like holiday credit card debt, broken New Year’s resolutions and even the weather.

So, to combat this seasonal slump, we have Valentine’s Day – a day that now dictates we spend too much money (on those same maxed-out credit cards?), eat chocolate (didn’t we resolve to lose some weight this year?) – and we plunk this delightful holiday in the middle of FEBRUARY which is, for many of us, the black hole of winter hell.

What are we thinking?

It’s not bad enough that we actually have a day that stands up and gives the finger to anyone who isn’t in a hearts and flowers kind of relationship. Someone decided that those of us who ARE happily attached should feel obligated to flaunt it on a specific day of the year. Why’s that again?

If you look up the history of Valentine’s Day, a lot of websites will describe it as murky, at best. Most will tie it to the writing of a letter from a Catholic bishop to the daughter of his jailer, with whom he had fallen in love, and he signed it “from your Valentine.”

From that simple gesture, we now have the red EXPLOSION that takes place in every department store across the continent exactly three minutes after we’ve put Christmas to bed.

This year, I’m bucking tradition – and I’m taking my husband along for the ride. Yeee-hawww! I’m truly not a woman who expects to be lavished with “proof” of his love on February 14. A simple reminder is more than enough. So, I did the unthinkable. I decided (for both of us!) that we would make our own Valentines this year.

[watches every guy out there roll his eyes]

Oh come ON! It’s not THAT hard, fellas. It really means a lot to receive a card, a note – or, as I have been gifted in the past, a piece of badly-torn notebook paper – with an honest expression of how you really feel. Even if the best you can do is “Honey, you pack me the best sandwiches in my lunch everyday” or “Damn woman, you have the best tits this side o’ Texas,” there is always something you can say to your partner and TRULY mean it.

Surprisingly, my husband was game for the idea. I guess until he realized he would actually have to follow through… then, he started stressing:

“Um… are we allowed to print stuff off the Internet?”

No. That would mean just copying, pasting and printing an ecard. Same “canned” sentiments.

“Um… but I can’t draw.”

Neither can I! I’m firmly in the camp of “stick people are a challenge.”

“Um… but you’re a lot more artsy-craftsy than I am.”

Right. But I’m only asking for a cardsy-wardsynot the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. I fully realize that you are much more “Michelob” than “Michelangelo.”

So, as it stands, I’ve done the outside of my card. I’m still mulling over what I’ll write inside… whatever it is, it will be sincere. That’s all that matters…

… well, THAT, and remembering where the hell I hid those “fruit roll-ups.” All I need now is a pair of scissors to get started on the homemade edible undies. I’ll show HIM “artsy-craftsy”…

Yeee-hawww!

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