Wednesday, August 08, 2007

"Lesbian Syndicated Columnist!!!"

I read the other day on the Washington Blade that I had been quoted about the LOGO debate tomorrow night.

The article quotes me, Sara Whitman a "lesbian syndicated columnist." (http://www.washblade.com/2007/8-3/news/national/11000.cfm) And then quoted me questioning Melissa Ethridge’s ability to be a political powerhouse in the debate.

I’m pretty sure I’m not getting an invitation to perform onstage with her anytime soon.

I wondered, though… why lesbian syndicated columnist? It reminded me of a report on the O’Reilly Factor on June 21st that featured a segment on “The Lesbian Gang Epidemic.”

Lesbian Gang Epidemic… Lesbian Syndicated Columnist.

Jim Burroway of Box Turtle Bulletin noted that in reporting the sensationalist garbage from The O’Reilly Factor, he always used three exclamation points. Just seemed to fit- like a New York Post headline. (http://www.boxturtlebulletin.com/2007/07/24/575)

Lesbian Gangs!!! Lesbian Columnist!!!

Nice ring to it, I must admit.

Meanwhile, my kids just call me Mom. Or the Mean Mom. No exclamation points just narrowed eyes and pouty conviction.

My son Ben, while walking to a local diner for lunch, was dreaming of how cool little Kingston Rossdale’s life must be. His mom is Gwen Stefani. His dad… well, some cool rocker dude. (Bush is a little too edgy for my boy.)

He is sooo lucky, Ben said.

Why?

Because his parents are famous. And they are cool.

Well… what about me? Am I cool?

He and Jake both burst into loud laughter.

Hey, wait… I play video games with you guys, I pointed out in my defense. Not many parents actually play video games. Not to mention play them well.

Yeah, AND? Hello? Do you see what you are wearing? Ben asked.

I was in jean shorts and a tee shirt.

At least I have crocs on, I pointed out.

So yesterday, Mom. Ben pulled his little brother’s arm and they kept a few paces in front of me.

Not too far- I was buying lunch.

I know that is as it should be. My guess is little Kingston could care less that his parents are famous when they say, No, it’s time for bed. Nor will he understand people pointing and gawking at his parents because they will be his parents and parents, no matter how famous are still parents.

I can see it now… ten years from now… MOM. That whole Lamb label is soooo yesterday.

Still, I can hope that I might edge up the cool meter a tiny bit. When Ben gets home, I’m going to tell him I’m a “Lesbian Columnist!!!”

Uh… any thoughts about what I should wear?

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