The Zeitgeist of Richard Armitage Universe

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We are not all the same and of course how Richard Armitage has affected each of us is not going to always be similar. So this series of posts “Why Richard?” is not designed to speak to every reaction but to perhaps capture some of the spirit of the RA Universe.

Some have been able to easily sum up the effect of the experience. They just nail it for themselves without seeming to meander around in their heads in an attempt to cover every little aspect. That’s not to say one way is better than another. I like meandering, and I’m going to keep at it. But I do marvel that it took another fan just a few months or less to conclude what took me from the beginning of 2008 and through most of 2009 to even come close to verbalizing (more on this later).

Remarks from the aptly named Armitage Besotted:


It’s been five months and counting since I first stumbled upon “North & South” and began my personal Armitage mania. (Definition of mania, per freedictionary.com: An excessively intense enthusiasm, interest, or desire; a craze.)

Why Richard?

Because in North & South he makes manifest the hopelessly romantic (by today’s cynical standards) notion that someone could notice you, “discover” you, choose you and decide to love you just for who you are, without you “going after him” at all. You just go about your business, and a gorgeous hunk finds you. In an age of “hooking up” and trying to divine if someone’s interested or “just not that into you,” who could resist this delicious fantasy?

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So it’s projection. Total projection.

And yet….

I find myself changing my behavior, thinking, “I could be a little more open, and maybe new, good things will come to me.” Or, “Instead of reading my book, I could strike up a conversation with the person next to me on the train about their book.” Or “Yessiree, I COULD post my thoughts on a blog, and see what kind of creative, funny new people I meet.”

Something that touches you enough to change your thoughts and behavior is called…art. And the person who creates art is…an artist. He’s an Artist, people. And he’s changing our lives.

I just love this write-up. It was like a breath of fresh air when I read it!

More coming up on people changing their thoughts and behaviors.

Screencap courtesy of RichardArmitageNet

I Really Did Have a Richard Armitage Dream

And now for something weird.

The other night I slept 16 hours when normally I sleep six at most. This may account for Richard showing up in my dreams for the first time.

I was sitting in the back of a large, black SUV and a man was sitting beside me. We were both dressed in black slacks and black turtle neck sweaters and talking about some project we were working on. No specifics on that; just that we were making preparations to continue with it. A few moments later someone walked up to my side of the vehicle, and I partially rolled down the window to see who it was. It was Richard Armitage, and he was also dressed all in black with some sort of black cap on his head. He peered into the window and said very slowly, “There you are.” Then he pulled a black ski mask over his face and just stared at me through the eye slits for an inordinately long time. Eventually I looked straight ahead and said, “You’re unnerving me.”

Then it was onto the next dream where I was a prisoner in a concentration camp and there was lice all around. I woke up with an itchy scalp.

Let the psychoanalysis begin. :D

Who Are You?

October 7, 2012

I was sitting here thinking I’m not quite sure where to put this post. Sometimes it seems this place is so full of snark that I’ve boxed myself into something and can’t get out of it. But that’s a lie. I’m not in a box and never have been. I’ve just believed at times I was. And I love snark. I love teasing. It’s stock and trade at my house, and I’m the least of the teasers there. But I can hold my own, and I’m glad. It’s made life so much more fun. Being able to laugh is a God send.

And if I had not been able to laugh for the last several years, I think I would have gone mad. Life can be rough and never turns out like we expect. I don’t know one person, not one, whose life has gone the way they planned. That sounds like a downer, but really, it’s not always a bad thing although it’s often an unnerving thing, and I’ve been unnerved plenty. Thankfully, I got early training in the unexpected, in being blindsided by what life can throw at us. Some of what I’ve been learning to write about has to do with all of the unexpected events that occurred to me as I was growing up. Trying to make sense of them and how they affected me.

One thing I’ve realized is how weird my childhood was by comparison to most others’. When I tell anyone even a little of what it was like, I can see their shock and sometimes pity at what they believe I endured, but I never really think of it that way. It’s taken me a long time to believe I endured anything, and I have never pitied myself and don’t relish anyone else’s pity. I just know I am what some people think of as damaged goods. But really we’re all damaged goods. My damage just seems more dramatic to some, and in a way, it’s a gift because it’s freed me. I’m not confined by nearly as much conventional wisdom as most people. My upbringing cut me loose almost from the beginning. The only real obstacle I had was in not realizing it. It used to really bother me that I wasn’t conventional and didn’t fit anywhere or with any group. I didn’t realize what a gift that is. To not fit in with a particular group leaves you free to fit in anywhere. But first you have to learn to live with being considered a weirdo. You have to embrace it. You have to embrace that gift. So anyone reading this who feels like you’re just out of step with the world, be glad. The world is often full of absurdity. You want to be in step with that?

And what brought this on? A video among other things. LOL! I can so relate to this:

What a little gem.

Should I bother with the proverbial Richard Armitage tie in or leave him alone for the evening? I think I’ll leave him be.

A Preface to My Comic-Con Experience

Before I tell you what happened at Comic-Con, I just want it clear that I was not planning on going. It was never a thought in my head. And when I’ve said I had no desire or plan to meet Richard Armitage, I have been serious. I love to make jokes about it certainly, and some of the pieces I’ve written, candidly, I’ve gone back to and laughed. Is it okay to admit I’ve laughed at some of my own stuff? I must sound arrogant, but oh well, I’m sure no matter what I do, someone is going to think poorly of me. The truth is that this blog started as a lark about an obscure English actor whom I never really thought would make it big, and therefore none but a very small number of fans would read it. (Sorry, Richard, I figured you were over the hill by Hollywood’s standards, but I was wrong, and I’m glad.)

My presence here was to have some laughs about this fangirl thing by casting myself as a nut, and to get out some thoughts about creativity and life. That more than a handful of people have read it was completely shocking to me, and my longtime readers know this is far from the first time I’ve said that. As for SO, he has given me good-natured hell about this place, and at first thought I was wasting my time when I “really should be writing! and not losing your story!” I understood that, but he didn’t understand that I had to get out of my comfort zone to reignite my creative thinking. And it’s been a blast. But never was it a real thought to communicate with Richard Armitage (the fake fan letters are a gag if some of you still don’t quite get it), send him gifts (never have) and certainly never to track him down (more on that later :D). Never going to stand at the stage door. Not happening, not part of who I am.

But I got invited to Comic-Con, and I really did want to go to help TORn and had no real expectation of meeting Richard Armitage at that madhouse let alone speaking to him. However, I am a person who likes to be prepared, so I figured if I went, I needed to be ready to talk to him or whomever if I got the chance. My friend, Heidi, who was a longtime AP reporter and now a freelance writer, explained how the process works with getting stories and asking interview questions. I loved listening to her, and thankfully, employed the techniques on the floor of the exhibit hall at Comic-Con with great success. The result of that will be coming up on TORn. And this was a labor of love. If I could do this sort of thing for a living, I would jump at the chance!

The only thing I will tell you today about my experience is I’ve learned a thing or two about being a Richard Armitage fangirl in public. I’m not sure when I’m going to post the experience, but it won’t be today as I’m traveling, and I doubt it’s going to be tomorrow since I’m whipped and need to do nothing for at least a day when I get back home. That won’t happen since I have a lot I normally do back home, but I’m going to try. Maybe I’ll get something up by Wednesday; just know I’ll try to get something up this week.

edit: I totally wimped out on this account. Not sure I’m ever going to tell it. Maybe a few years from now when it will be funnier to me.

Barney Stubble

Perhaps I’ve threatened to quit blogging one too many times. Let me assure those who sent me notes. I’m not quitting. I’ve just been busy and had toons on my mind lately. Blame it on the notion of Comic-Con which has me boning up on all things that make fanboys lose sleep. Of course after yesterday, I may blog about Richard Armitage for another five years. No, even I couldn’t talk about him that much.

Then I see something like this:

and chuckle at the thoughts which fly through my head. There wasn’t an urge to number the stubble but rather name the ones under his chin who have lived with him and seen all manner of things. Oh my Barney has gotten an eyeful, and what oh what has Barney endured? There’s a story. :D

Some of you are thinking, “Barney is not an elegant enough name for Richard’s stubble,” and maybe you’re right, but such is the pitfall of having Comic-Con as a filter for the next few weeks and for which RA is responsible.

And with all this talk of defection in recent weeks, I have a confession. I have become a Tolkien fan, which was not in my plans. Quite awhile back I started reading The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings for the second time. My first reading was at the ages of 14 and 15 and read in part because my guy friends were all reading them, and I wanted to know what was so intriguing. Their discussions also made it obvious my education was not as well-rounded as it should have been. So mostly my curiosity and pride were at work as the impetus, and any satisfaction was clinical. This time around I was just reading for enjoyment, for the wonder of it. And obviously I did enjoy them, but in the middle of all that reading, I began partaking of Tolkien’s essays and letters and fell in love with him.

Yeah, there he is. Can you see my grin?

In particular the ability and encouragement to fantasize in a way that’s edifying makes him irresistible. And that is the point isn’t it? To be edified. That may sound odd coming from the author of a blog like this one (or maybe not), but there has been something edifying about the process here. Oh, sometimes it gets boring. Yes, there it is. Sometimes I get bored with all of this. How many times can you look at the same photo of someone?

But what I’ve been trying to say in my diary entries is how I’ve become utterly obsessed with what words can do and how I came to give myself permission to explore that. As a reader, I’ve always adored others’ abilities to handle words, but I never thought to articulate the wild thoughts in my head. I was a geek and a musician who loved to spend countless hours solving a problem or playing with notes. Playing with the phrasing in a musical piece. But to do something similar with words? No, I could never do that. It was left for the few who mysteriously had some sort of gift. My imagination would have to remain locked up and privy only to me. I was good in math and had better pursue it or something related to it since I didn’t have the “gift.”

If I get the courage worked up enough, I’ll continue the entries. Mostly, I have to forget that you’re all here. It’s only when I post as musing to myself that I can really proceed. Thankfully, I realized before I started this blog that it doesn’t matter if what I say here is perfectly lucid or smacks of great ability. It’s something and better than nothing, and most important that I’ve let myself go to a much freer place. Tolkien is a balm in this respect. I plan to take out his words and review them when I’m feeling the infection of performance mentality, and I love this quote no matter how incessantly it’s been used nor how hackneyed it’s become to some of you. It aptly sums up my presence here:

“…Not all those who wander are lost…” — PPS in a letter from Gandalf to Frodo, Fellowship of the Ring

Thank God for post scripts.

About now you might be thinking, “This blog is your wild thoughts?” No, but it has helped to keep me thinking what happens when you communicate with others in written form. My wandering here has helped me get through writing a book, and if someone had told me a few years ago that I would write a book other than a technical how-to, I would have laughed hysterically. And now I’m halfway through a novel.

But all of this is a preface to a question, really.

Can I have two infatuations? :D

Surveying the Landscape

I’ve spent the last couple of weeks thinking about whether or not I should continue this blog. Yeah, I know I’ve said this before. Part of it is my circumspect gene pestering me. Always pestering me. Always putting me in check, and then years go by, and I regret I got in the box, that my creativity was so squelched it’s a miracle it survived. But why do I listen? Very simple answer. I don’t want to be a fool. I do not want to be a fool. Yes, I said that twice. And the reality is I’m not a fool. I have been sensible almost from the time I exited the hatch. Sensible is my frigging middle name. At least according to my family and all who have known me with more than a passing acquaintance. But back there in childhood I was able to be sensible and creative.

The other part I’ve been mulling is my longing to do something else in cyber world, and I am going to do something else. Not now, but it’s coming, and sometimes I have a hard time not talking about it. I get excited while I’m working on it and want to start gabbing, but it’s not time. Some of you know, but keep it to yourself please since I’m not ready yet.

For now I’m continuing this blog for too many reasons to explain. Suffice to say Richard Armitage is just a small part of it. No offense, Rich.

And thanks to all of you for listening to my stuff or at least some of it.

Screencap courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.com

Aligning with Sanity

heidirussell1When I witness someone discovering Richard Armitage, I’m always interested. Part of that is wondering how RA is evolving in the public’s eyes, and part of it is to be selfishly assured that what hit me like a two by four was not merely an appeal to insanity. Yes, I’m looking for validation. LOL! And I was never more sure I wasn’t crazy to have this four year reaction than when I read the tongue-in-cheek account of another person’s experience at the ending of ‘North and South.’ Humorous as it was, I saw something more and wanted to know exactly what it was. Plus, I’m intensely curious about almost everything as some of you know. Sometimes that gets me in over my head, but this time I had a very pleasant encounter with Heidi Russell, who is fun loving and definitely an ENFJ. :D

Me: Obviously, you had a visceral reaction to the ending of ‘North and South,’ and I love what you wrote about the characters and plot in your piece on Melanie’s Musings. But I guess I’m challenging you about what exactly ignited that kind of explosion since there are countless movies with similar plots: two strong characters who overcome trials and their own prejudice to find love. So why this one and not those others? Yeah, peel the onion.

Heidi: When I was 15, I read “Gone With the Wind” five times. And every time I read the ending, I cried my eyes out. Since then, ironically, I’ve stayed away from romance novels with sad endings. One author in particular that I avoid like the plague is Nicholas Sparks, for this very reason. They’re just too painful for me. I literally carve my heart out if I read stories like that. Recently, though, I reluctantly watched the “North & South” movie at someone’s suggestion. They knew I was a huge Jane Austen fan and thought I’d love it. As I started watching it, I had the same reaction to it as I did with “Gone With the Wind.” These two characters seemed like they were never going to make it. I turned off the movie half-way and vowed I would not watch the end. I was certain that it would come to nothing good. But then curiosity got the better of me, and five days later, I decided to see it through. During the last scene, I was mesmerized in disbelief that Margaret and John actually were brought together. It seemed to me that the storyline had been set up to prevent this at all costs.

I think the reason this scene struck a chord was two-fold. One is very personal, in that during the past two years, I’ve been going through a bitter divorce, and it took this long to settle it. I encountered North & South at a time when a sad chapter of my life was closing down. Those of us who are book lovers — and movie lovers — can relate to how a storyline might speak to us personally, and we can get engrossed in it because at some deeper level, it helps us work out the rough edges of our emotional lives. I liken it to dreaming.

The second reason the scene affected me was of course the superb acting skills of Richard Armitage. Here was a character that, in my opinion, loved someone in spite of the fact that he knew it was unrequited throughout the entire story. Armitage’s facial expressions and mannerisms all conveyed those of someone who would cherish this woman, even if she told him to go to hell. When he perceived that her feelings towards him were the same, it was as if I was watching a flower blossom. Few actors can pull off this emotional type of transition. What is Armitage’s X factor? Is it the eyes, hooded under those eyebrows? Is it the strong masculine profile? Is it the fact that he towers over his female counterparts, symbolically representing the protection we like to feel from a man we love? Is it his raspy baritone voice or Northern English accent? In this case, I don’t think it’s any one thing — and it’s not necessarily a physical aspect, either.

There are plenty of handsome actors on screen these days. No — Armitage conveys a gentle humbleness, the type of strong vulnerability that allows us as women to say, “He would protect us while needing our protection.” And as someone who has experienced a divorce recently, this idea resonates with me more strongly than anything else. He conveyed the type of man who would put a woman on equal footing with him and look up to her, while also sheltering her.

Me: So well put! And I have to ask have you ever been up close to a, er, fandom before? If so, was it anything like this? Was it pleasant?

Heidi: No, truthfully, I’ve never really grown attached to an actor’s career like I have Richard Armitage’s. And especially in such a short span of time! I’ve had my favorites, of course … in my early 20s it was Tom Cruise because of Top Gun (dating myself here), and in my late 20s, Kevin Costner because of Dances with Wolves. I didn’t really latch on to any other favorite until this time last year as I was working towards my divorce … and that was Jake Gyllenhaal. But all of those were just extremely superficial, in the sense that they were “pretty boys” who lit up the screen for whatever reason. Until now, I really haven’t seen an actor that intrigued me intellectually until I encountered Richard Armitage. That’s saying something, because I’m hyper critical of actors.

Me: So where are you now with this Richard Armitage thing?

Heidi: For about two weeks, I was, for lack of a better phrase, “in love” with the fictional character of John Thornton. (Pathetic, isn’t it, but we all of have been there, so I know no one is judging me for saying it.) Then after I wrote the guest blog about how the train scene in North & South had affected me, I got to thinking, “There’s something to that actor.” And I started pinging around the Web, only to discover he was quite the name across the Pond. With each show I see him in, whether it’s a comedy like “Vicar of Dibley” or a drama like “Spooks” (“MI-5” for us Americans), it’s like the onion is getting peeled back. This guy always has something new to give to each part. It’s not like watching a Brad Pitt movie where you think, “Oh, there’s a cowboy Brad Pitt. Oh, there’s a space alien Brad Pitt.” (I don’t think he played either, but you know what I mean.) You think, “Oh, that’s a sweet accountant who is romancing that vicar,” or, “Oh, there’s a tormented spy with Stockholm Syndrome who was imprisoned and tortured and is a great patriot.” You don’t think, “There’s Richard Armitage.”

Later:

Heidi: I do think that, like I said earlier, movies bear a resemblance to working out our emotions similar to dreaming, and fascination with movie stars is also symbolic and can be personally revealing if analyzed. It’s been a good exercise for me, answering these questions. In a way, very self-therapeutic and good to analyze the reason behind an emotional celebrity connection at this juncture in life.”

One self-analytical thing I discovered after I looked over the answers to your questions … this sort of floored me about myself, but it just hit me … You asked about the other fandom periods, and I listed the Tom Cruise thing in my early 20s, the Kevin Costner thing late 20s … then I said nothing until last year with Jake Gyllenhaal … then discovered Armitage. It’s very symbolic. Early 20s = superficiality. Late 20s, I was still single but more in thinking mode, more grounded, which is why the Costner connection with the film about Native Americans makes sense. Then there’s nothing for 15 years with a movie star fascination. That’s because first I was knee deep into an intense career move; then had serious relationships, and then finally marriage. Jake Gyllenhaal emerged AFTER I got out of this bad marriage and was finding my re-grounding. But like Tom Cruise, he’s superficial. So a re-vert, in essence, to the early 20s mindset, when I was first getting out there. The Armitage factor … I gave myself 2 years of intense emotional healing and am at the end of the no-dating rule with men. Armitage represents the solid man that I’m finally ready for, and unlike the past, wouldn’t settle for another “sparkly man.” I can’t believe that progression. It just hit me full force when I re-read what I’d written to you. I was like, holy cow, this is deep.

Me: Yep, and therein lies a lot of the fascination with Richard Armitage. He has drawn together a lot of people who are as introspective as he is, and it makes for some fascinating discoveries. So welcome to the club. :D

Heidi in her new Thorton>Darcy shirt:

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And like so many of us who have the desire to see RA in great roles, Heidi has a dream role or two.

Heidi:

I didn’t realize until this week that The Salvation Army is one of Richard Armitage’s favorite charities, and my parents were officers (pastors) in it. So score brownie points for RA. And I was just telling someone else that before I knew that, I was thinking he’d play an awesome William Booth, who founded it in the mid-1800s in London. The intensity from the North & South performance fits with Booth’s personality.

or

He would be perfect in a remake of the 1980 movie, “Somewhere in Time.” Put him in the role that Christopher Reeve played, and pair him with a classic beauty like Gemma Arterton (little known, but she’d be perfect. She played opposite Gyllenhaal in Prince of Persia).

Heidi Russell lives in Central Kentucky USA, and her day job is journalist. She is a former AP newswoman and currently freelances full-time for eight U.S. magazines. As a single mom, she spends her off hours going on imaginary adventures with her partner in crime, who she refers to as, “Munchkin” (her eight year old son).

If you would like to chat with her, you can find her at Twitter.

Photos of Heidi courtesy of Munchkin, who wields a mean camera.

Screencaps courtesy of both RichardArmitageCentral and RichardArmitageNet.Com.

Captured by a Sense of Wonder

Continuing with my foray into the FanstRAvaganza posts for this year.

Several fans have talked about Richard Armitage paper dolls. An attempt to recapture our childhoods? I know that’s what it is for me, but Agzy has taken it a step further and created some, which I doubt most kids would possess. LOL! And she’s also now running a contest for “Paper Richard.”

Ana Cris explains the significance of the Powhiri, and Richard Armitage and ‘The Hobbit” cast’s part in it, but first read her two excellent pieces on the significance of mountains in a culture’s identity and as it relates to Tolkien. These posts had a special significance for me since I live in the mountains and relish their power and effect on who I’ve become. Here is a place not far from my house, and oddly enough it’s named after one of SO’s relatives:

This is near 11,500 feet where the treeline ends.

JasRangoon thinks Richard Armitage should have kids, and she tries to answer the question of what they could look like. She also gifts us with a modern story of John and Margaret. Which John and Margaret? You must have only seen Spooks or Robin Hood. LOL! This John and Margaret. I started reading and immediately backed up to the beginning. Wow! This is her first fanfic. So far so good!!

Melanie of Melanie’s Musings believes Harry Kennedy is the near perfect man. Well, yeah! :D I found myself nodding — a lot — and then I got to the poll and thought my vote would still be in the minority. Oh, how wrong I was.

More tomorrow.

A Kindred Spirit

I just made a friend on Twitter, and yes, I’m using the term loosely, but this person and I share something dear in common, and no, it’s not just a liking for John Thornton. We both appreciate something real that shines out at us and edifies us. I was reading a guest blog post of hers, and she sums up in a small comment what has me so fascinated with Richard Armitage’s performances.

This comment is the key to why I am blogging. Yes, I know, you just thought it was the snark. That’s fun, but I don’t think snark would have facilitated all of this. I really was inspired by Richard Armitage the same way I’ve been inspired by anything artistic that tries to portray truth. It’s as if something like this is diving him:

…if only a man knew how to choose among what he calls his experiences that which is really his experience, and how to record truth truly.– Ralph Waldo Emerson

One of the most stunning scenes from North and South and a moment that I became choked just like John Thornton because he managed to take something potentially melodramatic and hollow and make it real:

[click to enlarge]

Yep, that kind of intense truth might make someone have an orgasm. :D

Screencap of the end of Episode 2 is courtesy of RichardArmitageNet.Com.

Enlightening Maintenance and Ubiquitous Random Thoughts

Contrary to the belief of some, I was not taken in a rapture, but I have a disclaimer: I am currently on drugs, don’t really feel like editing this piece, so please don’t hold against me anything I say below. And you can sue me for the title, but that about sums up where this blog is at the moment.

A few weeks ago my clever hat was consigned to the dustbin without my consent, or to be clear, real life intruded on my little idyll here. In the meantime, I’ve been trying to get back in the mood of blogging. I figured the best way to do that was to review my previous posts to pick up the thread of what I was doing. My first observation is that I have some typos which years ago would have made me want to crawl under a rock, and even a few months ago would have made me cringe. Now? I got a good laugh out of them. Well, I did cringe just a little at first. Second, I really have had fun with this thing, whatever it is. Third, I’ve got a lot more to say, but no, I won’t lay all of that on you here. Fourth, I need to do some serious editing on some of these old pieces. Am I allowed? Oh, yeah, I’m allowed. Fifth, I’m lousy at being cryptic. I just read two of my diary entries that get a lot more reading than some, and I grew weary at how they go on and on and on and on and don’t essentially convey what I wanted. I edited out the parts that really held them together, and in the doing of that, they lost something that dare I say makes them compelling.

Oh, well, that was the point of this exercise of blogging — to learn how the heck to say some of this stuff — so I’m not going to get too irritated about it. Maybe just a little irritated. I do make the disclaimer in one of the pieces that I had not taken the hatchet as much to it as I did some others, but therein was the problem — it either needs more taken out or to be completely left alone. I think I may break out something to deal with it. A machete? Oh, and I finally let SO read it, and he said, “I liked the stream of consciousness.” LOL! I appreciate his encouragement, but then he had to smile a little as he said it. Whatever. If that’s how my brain works, no wonder I’m tired. Fighting through all of the winding around and pontificating and cryptic cuteness was work, and if there is anything I don’t want to happen here for the reader it’s work. Come to think of it, I may put the ‘public service’ tag on that post once I’ve cleaned it up.

Haven’t been online much this week and had to make up for it by inhaling as much of my Reader as I could. What does that have to do with maintenance? Well, it’s part and parcel of what goes into this blog, a type of maintenance if you will. Oh, you thought some of this just sprang from my head fully formed? I couldn’t think up all of this innervating junk. Thank God.

Some of what I found:

Summer is coming. Yes, it comes every year like clock work, and you would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to know that you have to get ready if you’re going to be a part of it. Um yeah, the arbiter of worthiness is whether or not you can wear a bikini successfully.

For those who are feeling less than at their best, some of the beautiful were slumming to make the rest of us feel better.

There is hope if you’re still not feeling better. Supposedly men like women who have “guy humor,” so you can leave the bikini at home. Yes, the bikini is really about the guys. No, don’t try to bullshit me with a feminist treatise. It’s about men. But if you can’t wear that bikini, your mouth might make up for it, and before I read this piece, I assumed it mostly meant girls are attractive who can appreciate crudeness, and yep, I was right. Sadly, no one will read that this was a flawed study. Aren’t most of them? Although after living with a man for quite a few years, I believe embracing some crudeness is a must.

And I guess I’m not the norm, since I’m not as attracted to brooding men possibly filled with shame (the characters of Richard Armitage aside :D) as some women. My thumbnail on this is that women are attracted to men like that because many of us have a bit of a savior complex, which could lead to some worship. Don’t we all want to be loved, adored, cherished (take your pick) and what better way to know than to be worshipped? Meantime, I couldn’t get this out of my head:

No, not those dweebs, but they do make a point about the crudeness that’s just part of that Y chromosome. And this is the reason some women will almost kill themselves to get a bikini body? When really they just need to crack some crude jokes and maybe perform some crude acts.

Perhaps the only reason I didn’t fall into the normal pattern of being drawn to shame filled men is I knew I really wasn’t worthy to be worshipped as a savior. Therefore, a confident, at peace, smiling man, was my choice. I’m happy to report that he’s still smiling although he’s had his obstacles, and had his moments of introspection, anger and yes, some villainy (he is a human being), but still loyal. May my daughters be drawn to such a man.

I do sometimes worry about the male society my girls are going into. People are not loyal. That is the great dichotomy of this world. Many want loyalty but don’t want to give it. That’s why commitments don’t happen for most. In some cases the need to shuck it off is understandable. Maybe their driver will lose them over there. Unfortunately, there is a line to take their place. So glad I’ve never watched those shows, and I hated that I even spent any of my time watching that clip. Hopefully, the next paragraph will redeem the erroneous investment.

Back to the point. Commitment is the key, and of course I understand a piece of paper is not necessarily indicative of commitment, but this is how I’ve put it to my girls: do you want to make a commitment to someone who is not clear about their commitment and is not willing to declare it to others? I never have understood how a nebulous arrangement was edifying. No, don’t fill me in, the drugs would keep me from really receiving it right now. It just seems that it’s really about f*cking (of course enjoyable f*cking), but when did that ever get a firm commitment? Really? I don’t think so. It’s just f*cking unless someone’s heart is engaged, and out of the abundance of the heart someone will speak. And yes, God yes, take an accounting of their character before the witnesses are present. Speaking a few words at a hyped up ceremony designed to put the bride and her momma in a euphoria are not enough. Never have been. I laugh when I think my mother got married in a brown suit with spectator pumps while standing in front of the fireplace of her future sister-in-law’s living room in a service that was planned by my Dad and her mother was not there, or if I think of SO’s mother who got married in a blue tea length dress (her best dress at the time) at The Hitching Post wedding chapel, which was the first one on The Strip and no mother there. And no f*cking was necessary from them before hand. Just a man of character who loved them. My father passed away after 40+ years of marriage and was still committed to my mother on his way out and she to him. That was after all the hard times they weathered. Piece of paper my ass. The commitment was clear from the start, and I don’t believe my mother has ever owned a bikini nor has SO’s mother.

If I’ve thoroughly depressed you, well, you may not have to live with it long. If someone really does succeed in hacking Lockheed Martin well enough, they might be dropping those bombs soon.

In the meantime relax and maybe watch some “So You Think You Can Dance.” It’s going to be on a little longer. Where are those drugs?

Oh, and I was going to put in a line about missing Nat, and then she showed up! Good to see you posting again, Natalie. You are a ray of sunshine.

Last, did you catch Amy Poehler’s speech to Harvard’s graduating class? Well, it’s viral now, so I’m sure you can find it easily. I’m too lazy to post a link. She didn’t say anything that really hasn’t been said a thousand times at graduation speeches, i.e., LIVE! but she really did understand the humor in them choosing her. I’m not sure the class got that, and I find myself not really caring.

Found the drugs. See ya later.

edit: for those who asked, yes, I’ve worn a bikini many times, so this is not my angst about inability to do that. I just think it’s crap that women still see their worth as almost totally equated with their bodies and their ability to give some. Hate that.