Cool Kids vs Sweatshop Kids

[mallorys_camera]

Sentimental old curmudgeon that I am, this was a three hanky story for me…

Generally a rather dismal week. I trotted out Santa Homer! Santa Homer is even more annoying than non-seasonal Homer. He sings Christmas carols. And rumbas frenetically in place.

But even Santa Homer couldn't save the Little Store this week. Sales fell off precipitously – we did less than 50% of what we'd done the week before.

And it wasn't just us. It was all of Cannery Row – all of Monterey, in fact: people are just not coming here. This makes me grind my teeth at night because I just know if we were some place like Los Angeles or San Francisco, we'd be being written up in chi-chi magazines. I mean, c'mon! A "wine bar" for chileheads! How trendy and cool is that? But, no, we're stuck in Monterey, which is like this enclave of stodgy dinosaurs on the edge of fairy land (goddamn! it is beautiful.)

Yesterday I went searching for Something To Wear to Cody's wedding (today.) Drove out to a new mall in old Fort Ord. Wandered the rows at Kohl's, Old Navy, Tar-jay – the clothes were all so horrible! I mean ugly! Who would buy these clothes? Well obviously, tons and tons of people. But it really sent ice shards through my heart – the thought that some where in India and China there are factories where children are going blind to produce these awful, ugly clothes.

Add moving here thirteen years ago to that list of Bad Choices I've made in my life.

It's a very long list.

But ya do what ya have to do. Carry water. Chop wood. Or is it the other way around?

Anyway, I'm going to have to find a supplemental income stream, always a daunting prospect. Sigh. I can do a lot of things reasonably well, but one thing I've always been really bad at is tolerating workplace politics. Oh, well.

Also this week there was the weather to endure – grey and forbidding as a witch's tit.

And Halloween just made me want to cry.

"The cool kids all go to Deer Flats," Robin told me. That's where he went. With his cool friends, JoJo and GiGi.

Meanwhile I stayed here on Spaghetti Hill and gave out candy to 25 or so little losers, bonsai Disney princesses and Spidermen and those god-awful ubiquitous little Screamers (I wish someone would just vandalize that fucking painting out of human awareness!) They didn't care about being cool. They just wanted candy.

Still, I had a lot of candy left. Which then I had to eat, you know, because those children working in those Indian sweat shops are all starving plus Mexico is under water. Plus there was the 10% Mommy tax I levied on Robin's haul. So sugar overload is probably contributing to my less than festive mood.

"Then we went to a party," Robin continued. "At _____'s house. I made out with a girl!"

There are some things a mother just doesn't want to know about her thirteen year old son: this is one of them. I looked at Robin, and I thought, How can you make out with a girl? Half your underwear has skid marks! I know – I do your laundry! But there's no denying he's growing up and he's growing up fast.

Furthermore he wants to grow up.

I want to tell him, Take your time. I want to say, Being a grown-up is no where near as much fun as you think it will be.

But then I reconsider. Maybe that's just true for me. Maybe being an adult is a blast for other people who had sane parents and a solid preparation for it. Who were taught how to work towards goals. Who were shown how to assess risk.

Who weren't brought up by a crazy woman.

I pray Robin isn't being brought up by a crazy woman.

But honestly, who's to say?

Comments

[quiet-life.livejournal.com]

the twin story has that o.henry-like twist- divvying up the placenta- the very thing that was intended to speed up the weaker twin's death seems to be the explanation for his survival. i guess that will help mom not feel guilty. she ought to let the kid know about this later, so he won't use it against her in that teenage hate way.
at least he feels able to tell you about his stuff, i guess. i wouldn't want to hear either.
i wouldn't have dreamed telling my mom or dad about anything like that, because that would have ruined my chances to makeout at another party down the line, heh.

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

Yeah, well, from a parental point of view, I'm not sure I would have let that newspaper write that story. Once when I was explaining to Max that I am very pro-choice -- that if I were to vote on one issue alone, that's the issue I would vote on, he asked, "So, have you ever had an abortion?"

And I said, "Yes-s-s-s."

And he was gobsmacked. I mean, intellectually he could deal with it, but emotionally he could not. I mean, obviously, I didn't abort him. But I could have! Easily! And his mind was just reeling, taking that in.

Possibly choice is not one of those conversations mothers should have with their male children.

Yeah, I couldn't believe Robin told me that. But we have the type of relagtionship where he tells me quite a bit. I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.

[quiet-life.livejournal.com]

who knows for sure, but i'm thinking it may be precisely the sort of conversation a male young adult ought to have with his mom.
in some way, it might allow them more insight and provide a lesson in personal responsibilty.
taking an eraser from that mental dividing line about women into bad/good. it's good to realize that life brings tough choices depending on circumstances.

[pageeater.livejournal.com]

I heard that Vera Wang has a collection in Kohls now. I've never been in a Kohls. So did you see her (cheap) line? Did that really look as horrible as everything else you saw there?

PS

[pageeater.livejournal.com]

Amazing the boy would tell you that.

Re: PS

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

I suppose it is!

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

I saw some Vera Wang purses that weren't quite as awful as the other junk in the store. Didn't see her label on any dresses. Doesn't mean they weren't there. Just means I got out of there fast.

[original-broad.livejournal.com]

I just love reading your journal. Honest to god, sometimes your perspective is almost like therapy.

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

I love reading your journal too! You make a city I love (and mourn 'cause I doubt I'm ever gonna live there again) come alive for me.