What Ever Happened To Feminism?

I'm having lunch with four really bright guys at work and one says, apropos of the Victoria's Secret Lingerie Show on CBS the night before, "What Ever Happened To Feminism?" And I say, "It's over," and then I say, "and you guys are in big big trouble."

This brings the appetizer munching to a slow halt. I start to explain. We entered the work force in the 70's in those ridiculous women's suits with bowties. We wanted a level playing field. We wanted to play fair. We wanted the same opportunities and privileges men got. We won a few of those, but mostly we lost and we weren't taken seriously. We cried "foul" with sexual harrassment in the 80's and 90's and then the game changed completely. We went back to basics. We found our old power -- girl power -- and we added that to what we'd learned from men. So now we knew how to be professional but we also remembered how to be subversive, subversively female, subversively feminine.

"There is no more feminism," I explain. Game Over. But it took me a day or two to name the new game. It's "girlism" -- women want to be sexy girls and use all the tricks girls use. Crying, flirting, begging, winking, stomping their feet when they don't get their way, general trotting around showing off their long legs and whatever else they decide to show off thereby distracting and derailing men.

It's about power -- girl power we've always had but forgot about combined with all the stuff we've learned in the workplace. Needless to say, if you're a man and you call us on it, we deny it. The new double double standard. We learned how to stop playing fair.

Hospital Visit

Thinking of my dad again -- the holidays must be bringing it on, Thanksgiving's a week away and this is the first without my dad -- this is from last March, he passed away in early April. It's about how hard it was to visit him some days.

March 13, 2002 -- I go to see my 83-year-old dad in the nursing home. You never know what to expect. Your heart falls when you look in his room and see an empty bed, you figure the worst has happened, but he's down the hall in a wheelchair, with a nurse fussing over him. Visit for a half hour, neither of us can take too much more. Say hi/bye to many seniors I know by name now, as I make my way towards the exit door. I type in the code -- the door is locked because the Alzheimers patients are a tricky crew. Later I write to a friend about it.

Also, just back from visiting my dad and I need to think/reflect on it. The most frightening moment is entering the room, not sure what you'll find. It's an emotional bungy jump, and always semi-terrifies me
> --
> but of course, it's always okay, once I see him and start to comfort him.
> Today, my dad was tightly grasping the corner of his blankie, sucking on it like an infant. With dementia and slurred speech (dentures out) and fatigue, it's hard to get any coherent words from him. I think he was scared, sad, cold. I wrapped him in two fuzzy polartec blankets, one grey, one burgundy, I bought him at Target and hugged him. He was beaming when I left.

I feel sad when I come home. Pick up a magazine, new Fast Company, see David Weinberger's office — if it is his actual office — think, "David, your office is a mess." Look at my home office. Start laughing — it's ten times worse. Decide to clean up my office. Change out of "tough mom" blue jeans and black cashmere sweater into exercise clothes. Make a cup of Twinings Earl Grey tea.

Really clean my office. Stem to stern. Vacuum. Feeling much better. Find my dictionary — wondered where it went. Check email to see if I've gotten a YES from a company I've pitched a project to — nothing. Worry about getting some real live paying work soon. Decide to stop worrying. Thank God my husband's working. Read, write, blog, read other's blogs, read web news, do email. Think about exercising. Go out to see if the mail's come. It hasn't.

Read, write, blog, do email. Make Progresso Chickarina soup for lunch. Eat Manischewitz Savory Garlic Matzos and drink more Twinings Earl Grey tea, read The New York Times. Cheering up considerably with a clean office and good lunch. Pay some bills, mail them.

Read, write, blog, get an email from a friend I haven't seen since junior high school! What a treat! Do laundry. Answer more email. Don't exercise. Feel happy to be home. Feel like I have a perfectly wonderful life.

Really Big Show -- Victoria's Secret on CBS Tonight

So we've come to the point where this is considered editorial content. Serves us right for using the degrading and perverse term "content" anyway. Still, don't miss it. And of course, it's best watched sans vetements.

Die Another Day Coolerific Effects by Framestore

Framestore in the UK is the group behind all the cool effects in the new Bond film. Check it out.

Doc Suffering From Eating Disorder Known As Blogeremia

Holy Heck! You're wasting away Doc! Blogeremia has now been identified as a serious eating disorder where one vomits so many words on their blog, that they can lose as much as 25 pounds within a very short time. .

2nd Avenue Deli Menu Online

I'll take the Matzoh Ball Soup and I'm crazy for Kasha Varnishkas. Or as the lady in When Harry Met Sally said, "I'll have what SHE's having."

Just In The Nick Of Time

I see my folks, they're getting old, I watch their bodies change...
I know they see the same in me, And it makes us both feel strange...
No matter how you tell yourself, It's what we all go through...
Those eyes are pretty hard to take when they're staring' back at you.
Scared you'll run out of time.

When did the choices get so hard?
With so much more at stake.
Life gets mighty precious when there's less of it to waste.
Hummmm...Scared you'll run out of time.

-- Bonnie Raitt

Halley's Comet Is A Big Black Opal

Boy, I could use one of those around here as a blog mascot. And cheap at twice the price, eh?! I'll buy two.

The Elite Meet Greet Eat

Michael Wolff of New York Magazine gives us the skinny on an elite conference for media moguls in NYC. "There were seven or eight tables, each with six men and one woman, with everyone served a very big piece of meat."

Going Steady For 40 Years?

I'm awfully worried about Ken. He's been going steady with Barbie for 40 years and I'm not at all sure he's getting it. Can't he close the deal after 40 years? Don't miss his Timeline.

With some of these outfits I can see why Barbie wasn't coming around. I mean check out his totally pathetic look from 1962 on the Ken Timeline. He's "Ken With Painted Hair." Not too sexy. And then there's Ken with Bendable Legs in 1965, I guess that's an improvement. But Ken A Go-Go with the Beatles wig in 1966 is pretty pathetic. I won't even talk about "Now Look Ken" in the 1976 -- watchout Rageboy!

Home Sweet Home

I mean, work sweet work. I was trying to give someone directions to where I work and it's not so easy. Here's a link and a map. During the Civil War these buildings were the arsenal for the army.

Having recently moved from California to the Northeast, I can never get over how much brick construction there is here. I still look at buildings with a earthquaker's eye -- brick would be rubble in about 5 seconds in California -- you just don't see a lot of it out there, it's a joke when it comes to the Richter scale.

Dutch Help Please

A client just wrote this to me "mar als je Nederlands praten wordt het niet so netjes" and I have no clue what it means. It sounds like something good to eat. Please send words to me (halleys@yahoo.com). Je parle francais mais je pige que dalle quand il s'agit de ... Dutch.

Choco Choco Chocolate

Oh boy oh boy. Can I live here in Cadbury's Chocolate Kingdom?. Check out the Chocolate Delights recipes.

Something Sad

I was thinking of my dad today. I wrote this in April about a week before he passed away. It feels more like 1000 years ago now and about 5 seconds ago. Go figure.

DNR -- It means "Do Not Resuscitate". They have it on my dad's hospital chart — in big letters. It was something he requested years ago, long before he was so ill. They ambulanced him fast yesterday out of the nursing home, with a serious infection, high fever and 70/40 blood pressure into the hospital's intensive care unit.

My sisters and I noticed the waiting area on the ICU floor is not very welcoming. People don't stay there for long, we figure. The other waiting rooms we'd been in over the past few months were bigger, more comfortable, decorated for extended stays, adorned with thicker magazines, a box of toys for toddlers in the corner of the room.

His heart went into arrhythmia, they gave him a drug to stablize him, almost needed to try the paddles. His head looked dead, with no blood pressure to bring oxygen up there, he had the pallor of the pages of a brand new coloring book.

We stand by his bedside, but you can't connect with him — he's got an oxygen mask on, other tubes going here and there. DNR means no ventilator to breathe if he might need that. It means let him go.

Outside the ICU in the un-waiting room, I pray and I ask God if it's allright to want him to find a way OUT of here. Surely, it's time. He is wasting away and at 83 is so tired. Is it a bad thing to pray for — someone's death?

I think of all the people who have sat in this chair, in this place and all the prayers spilled all over the waiting area, I'm knee deep in them. A ticker tape parade of prayers — most begging their loved ones will recover. I can pick them up and read them, love letters all — mothers praying for young children to bring them back to life, back to their arms to cradle, lovers praying for their fiances to come back to them, to make it through surgery so they can marry and grow old, siblings praying for younger siblings to make it through a frightening illness. And I pray too. God, take my dad gently, show him the way.

Barbie's A Bond Girl

What is she moonlighting as a Bond Girl, getting gigs on the side? Hmm. She hardly compares to the lovely Pussy Galore or the more intellectual Dr. Holly Goodhead?

Gone Fishing

Boy, I'd love to go off to Halley's Camps up in Halley Country for some fishing. Check this out. Yes, nothing beats Halley's One Man Lake Lodge.

Gary Turner About That Hat

Hey, Gary, listen man -- that picture of that scary guy in that hat on your site is too spooky, get rid of it. And BTW, I see you had the nerve to climb up Rageboy's blogroll and usurp my exclusive top of the heap position. What gives man? You pushy agressive Brits are all alike, always cutting in front of shy, retiring American girls like me. I mean cutting "the queue" or whatever the heck you call it. You better make restitution. That means giving me top slot on your blogroll, or talking 3 other guys into giving it to me.

Harvard's Digital ID Conference Coverage

Donna Wentworth over at Corante did great coverage of the conference and also don't miss this. My coverage below is at best spotty and selective and full of Halley's Comment editorial bias, needless to say.

I Am A Pirate King

When I'm not listening to Eminem and Hailie's Song (not Halley's Song as many people keep calling it) I'm grooving on Pirates of Penzance lately. It's really fine. I have a tape of the Linda Ronstadt and Kevin Klein Broadway version.

Oh, better far to live and die
Under the brave black flag I fly,
Than play a sanctimonious part
With a pirate head and a pirate heart.
Away to the cheating world go you,
Where pirates all are well-to-do;
But I'll be true to the song I sing,
And live and die a Pirate King.
For I am a Pirate King!
And it is, it is a glorious thing
To be a Pirate King!
For I am a Pirate King!

Caribbean Blue Waters

I'm headed for the blue pool to swim, won't let that grey weather get me down. No way. Did you know what it looks like here? Well, keep reading. I'm resisting the slide into a big late autumn funk. Snap the strap on my Speedo and dive, dive, dive.

Dreary, Drizzly, Dreadful Day

But the perfect day for staying inside, getting cozy, reading or watching dumb old movies, drinking tea or coffee ... hell, I might go really crazy and actually pull out the Hoover and do some vacuuming. Wow-di-wow.

No question we have some seriously Novemberish weather happening here -- even snow last night. Colors featured include grey, gray, greyish gray, grayish grey, slate, ardoise, gunmetal, birchbark, charcoal and black.

Harvard Wrap-up

Still ruminating on the full day of Harvard's Digital ID conference yesterday. I'll fill in more soon, but here a few subjects I want to write about. Also, there's killer detailed blog coverage elsewhere. I'll find the links and add them.

Brand Panel The branding guys were good. Jeffrey Rayport calling Harvard a big amusement park for smart people (this is a dreadful misquote, but he was going so fast, it's hard to catch the exact words.) was incredibly spot on. The issues of prestige and excellence and reputation continued to rear their not-so-ugly heads. Without trying to be too snobby, there is something extremely precious about having some of the world's best teachers and students all in the same place. We all tried to pin down that ineffable quality of inspired classroom activity that can't be made digital and stuffed down an ethernet cable. Something happens in the room that distance learning just can't do.

Underground World of HLS Big thanks to John Palfrey who showed me a way to follow the mysterious underground snaking hallways lined with fiesta-ware colored lockers UNDER the Harvard Law School buildings, saving me from freezing as we went to another building for lunch. That was very cool.

Esther Dyson Unannounced, unscheduled Esther appeared and had some choice comments, per usual. I liked her suggestion when a student mentioned that although the classrooms are WiFi enabled, the professors turn it OFF so they keep the attenion of the students. Esther says, "Tell the professors to try being more interesting."

How much fun can four deans be? Actually a lot. The Deans of the law school, business school, school of ed and extention schools were a interesting bunch.

Lunch: You study WHAT?! and you're at the Graduate School of WHERE?! [The most terrific thing was meeting people who were at Harvard studying the most unusual and fascinating things and I met a bunch at lunch and then a ton the rest of the day too.]

Back later to fill in all the details.