Maybe We Need to Read More

How do you decide what is appropriate for your children to watch on television? Is it a conversation you have with your husband or with your children, or do you choose based on the TV rating system or word of mouth from other parents?

It’s easy when kids are young. They have a choice of preschool shows that are tied into toys and clothing at the local Walmart. You become instantly aware of what they like and don’t like based on what becomes an obsession, thanks to clever marketing. But as your kids get older, it’s not so easy anymore. What you find on kids’ channels might still be over their heads, or have a level of violence, or yes, even romance, that might make you uncomfortable. By the time they hit double digits, it’s even tougher. You have probably moved on from watching shows with them, opting instead to leave them to their own devices while you play on your laptop or iPad. Chances are good that if you sat down and watched their shows with them, you might not like what you see.

My kids grew up on a steady diet of SpongeBob Squarepants, which is still the default if nothing else is on. I stopped watching television with them when I could recite the words from all the episodes, and sometime between that moment and today, they have moved on from Nickelodeon to the edgier and more mature Cartoon Network. Cartoon Network used to show things like “Powerpuff Girls” and “Johnny Bravo.” Now, it’s “Adventure Time” and “The Regular Show.” Have you ever seen either of those? They aren’t shows for kids in elementary school; they are shows for college aged kids taking hits off a bong. Sometimes the plot lines disturb my tween, as she still has hope for a happy future, and that doesn’t always mesh well with a post-apocalyptic life in a world filled with talking cinnamon buns and tiny sexy elephants that bake apple pie.

But whatever, they’re kids’ shows, right? I don’t like to watch those shows with them, so lately we have been branching out into regular television. Even then, our choices are pretty limited in terms of what’s age appropriate, and it seems the more we watch, the more explaining I have to do.

“Modern Family” is popular in my house, because my kids love the gay couple. Remember watching “Happy Days” when you were a kid? They didn’t have a gay couple. They did have a philandering rebel with a penchant for dancing and show tunes, but I’m pretty sure Fonzie wasn’t gay.” Laverne and Shirley” also seemed harmless, even though Laverne was a floozy who only cared about getting laid. Wait a minute, maybe television was always bad for kids.

Sometimes, for variety, we delve into the world of reality television, which is generally where my discernment gets a little hazy. I don’t like to watch the dancing or singing shows, and I don’t want my kids to watch the dating shows. I can only force them to watch so much PBS or Animal Planet before they rebel.  Which leaves us with Discovery and The Learning Channel. 

The other night, my teen and I cozied up together in front of the television to watch a new episode of “My Strange Addiction.” This is a show that can vary from week to week in terms of how appropriate it is, but my own fascination tends to cloud my judgment. So there we were, watching a woman who is addicted to black market butt injections and a young man, most likely a virgin, who is infatuated with his entire collection of pool inflatables, one of which he considers his wife, a beauty of a yellow dragon raft. My husband walked in and wanted to know what I was thinking, letting her watch “that trash.”

Hmm, what was I thinking? Did I think it was funny that these people are obviously mentally ill? No, because if that were the case, we’d be watching “Hoarders” too. No, it’s more about the sensationalism, the putting themselves on display for the whole world to see. I might be addicted to chocolate and cuticle picking, but you don’t see me on television showcasing it for all of America. My teen is smart enough to get that, by the way. She knows it’s not right to make fun of people, but a lady who‘s had like forty butt injections is a sight to see. And honestly, her ass was still smaller than a certain judge on American Idol, so don’t tell me that show is more suitable.

The truth is, quality programming is a thing of the past. Now, it’s all about what’s cheap to produce, which explains the plethora of reality shows that cover everything from extreme sports to parking lot valets. At least we stay away from violence, like, say, professional football. Bad language isn’t even a deal breaker anymore, since my kids hear worse at school than what can be broadcast on TV. And to some degree, the more excessive and ridiculous the behavior my kids see on TV shows, the less they find such displays enticing. They realize so much of what we see is catty or demeaning or just plain stupid.

And when they don’t, I have to bring them back to reality. When I found out my teen watched an episode of “The Bachelor”, I counteracted it with a documentary about the oppression of women around the world, “Half the Sky.” When my tween sees women in a cat fight, I quickly suggest a viewing of “My Fair Lady.”

What I am suggesting is that you take a moment as a parent to sit down and watch a little television with your kids. Think about what they are seeing, what message they are receiving, what information they are storing for later, even into adulthood. Find out why they watch what they do when you aren’t around. Engage them. I like that approach much better than walking into the family room and declaring their shows crap or forbidding them from watching certain things.

And I still have plenty of time to teach them how to pronounce schadenfreude.

The Land of Milk and Honey Boo Boo

I have a confession to make. I have become a regular viewer of TLC’s newest abomination, “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo,” which unfortunately airs on Wednesday evenings following “Toddlers and Tiaras,” another show I am ashamed to admit I watch regularly. “Toddlers and Tiaras” is a reality show about the world of children’s pageants, and oh, what a world it is. Most of us first learned of that world following the murder of Jon Benet Ramsey in 1996, and rightly so, most of us were shocked that such a world existed. At the same time we were apathetically expressing our outrage, another smaller group of people thought, aww, look at them cute little girls all tarted up to look like women, let’s see if our little Jennifer/Tammy/Britney can do that too. 

One of those pageant girls is Alana, or “Honey Boo Boo Child,” as she is known to her family and now to the rest of us as well. She was on “Toddlers and Tiaras” a few times, and while she didn’t win a title, she did win America’s heart.  And TLC, which used to be The Learning Channel but somehow lost its way, has given her and her family their own show. They also have shows about primordial dwarfs and conjoined twins, so if you are a little off in some way, TLC might be contacting you soon.  Watching it is like visiting a carnival side show, only without the corn dog smell and crack smoking barkers.

Anyway, back to Honey Boo Boo. She lives in a small house with her family near the train tracks in the middle of nowhere, Georgia. She has three sisters, none of which have the same father, a morbidly obese mother who is also an extreme couponing fanatic, and a father who is never without a ball cap and a wad of chewing tobacco. One of her sisters is pregnant. The other two also have weight problems. Her parents are not married. Her mother has an old toe injury that the whole family calls her “forklift foot.” How can I not get hooked on this?

The first time I watched the show, I felt really sad. The whole show was sad. They live in a tiny house, half of which is filled with discount toilet paper. They buy their groceries at a food salvage auction. The sheriff calls them when there is road kill so they can have the meat.  Their idea of fun is hopping on their four wheelers to rummage through the dumpsters at the town landfill, to which they refer as the department store. The show uses subtitles when they speak, and they are speaking English. Every bit of the show exploits this family’s poverty and ignorance, and by watching it, am I not engaging in a bit too much schadenfreude?

But then I thought, what would Honey Boo Boo do? Does she care that her mother farts all the time? Hell no! Is she embarrassed that her 17 year old sister is going to have a baby and the whole family discusses it coming out of her “biscuit” on national television? Of course not!  Does she want to hide her head in public because her parents’ idea of date night is eating at the local country buffet? I doubt it! Is she ashamed that it takes five of them to put together one pack n play, or that the pack n play isn’t for a human baby but rather a pig baby? Probably not!

Her family is getting paid for showing us how the other half lives, and while not they are certainly not making as much as they should, they are definitely making more than they would without all that attention. I read that they earn roughly $4,000 an episode, or per week, if you think about it that way. They sure as shit couldn’t get that working for P. T. Barnum. That’s a whole lotta pork rinds. Good for them. So what if they toilet paper their own house? They can afford two ply, can’t they?

As I have watched the show, I realize one very important thing about Honey Boo Boo and her family. They love each other, unconditionally. That mother might need to be referred to child protective services time and again, but at the end of the day, she isn’t trying to hurt her children. She loves them. She wants them happy. She provides them with food and shelter. She gives them experiences, maybe not the same kind you give your children, but she does the best with what she has, which isn’t a lot, folks. She accepts them for who they are. She encourages them. In her own bizarre way, she is a good mother. And her daughters, well, they love her too, or they appear to, based on the editing. The dad, Sugar Bear, doesn’t seem all that capable of expression, but he does tear up as often as John Boehner, so he feels something for his family as well. It’s gosh darned touching.

So while I would never mix a tub of butter substitute and a bottle of ketchup together, heat it, and use it as a sauce for my spaghetti noodles, I shouldn’t judge Honey Boo Boo for enjoying it along with her family. Her mother made that meal with love. We can’t all be eating organic kale chips and quinoa, can we?

 

 

 

Is It a Good Thing?

What's up with reality shows these days? Okay, I guess that is a silly question. It's not like most reality shows were ever that great, what with their lack of creativity, story, and intellectual stimulation. Instead, they satisfy America's voyeuristic tendencies while allowing us to feel superior. We no longer have to peep in our neighbor's windows. We can now do it from the comfort of our own reclining couches. The variety of reality shows is endless, meaning there is something for everyone, from kiddies to grandparents to twisted sick fucks. My own tastes fall somewhere in that range, but I have recently discovered a show that blew my mind.


Most of you are familiar with Martha Stewart Living, unless you are busy eating your own toenail clippings and writing your manifesto. Love her or hate her, she is here to stay, and she seems stronger than ever now that she has street cred after her stint in the Big House. But you might not be aware that she has an adult daughter, Alexis, who as far as I can tell makes a living off of being Martha Stewart's daughter. Alexis has taken her career to a new level, from merely being Martha's offspring to public critic.

The other night I was flipping channels when I stumbled across a show called Whatever, Martha on the Fine Living Network, where old how-to shows go to die. The show features Martha's daughter, Alexis, and her friend, Jennifer, making fun of vintage clips of her mother's show. And they aren't nice; they say all the kinds of things you would say too, especially since Martha isn't your mother. They start by making fun of segments, like the guy with his fascinating antique twine collection or Martha's impossible guide to making s'mores, which is more about the quality of the sticks and bundling them with a winsome ribbon than actual marshmallow roasting. When they get around to it, Alexis and Jennifer insult her directly, her clothes and hair and bizarre homemaking fetishes. And if time permits, they go off on topics unrelated to the show entirely, such as nudity in gym locker rooms.

The show appeals to my inner bitch. And really, who doesn't like to make fun of one's mother? But insulting your mother with your friends is one thing, doing it so publicly, even if it is a lesser cable channel, is another. Furthermore, it is more acceptable to insult your mother than to have your friend do it. Isn't there a whole "yo mama" culture that speaks to this very issue? The bizarre part is Martha approves. She is the executive producer, so I suppose as long as Alexis and Jennifer don't compare her to a serial killer or discuss her aging vulva on the air, pretty much anything goes. An interesting mother-daughter dynamic, wouldn't you say?