America’s Next…?

The other night, after seeing Four Months, Three Weeks and Two Days, one of the best and most upsetting movies I’ve ever seen (more on this soon), Avi pointed to a billboard way up in the stratosphere of Times Square that seemed to have been grafittied by some impossibly thrill-seeking daredevil.

I was trying to figure out how someone had climbed up the building to spray paint “Find815.com” on a billboard when it hit me. God I love that show. I can almost consider that there’s only going to be half a season without plunging into tele-grief.

“How absurd. How depressing and disheartening and just plain dumb this whole business is.”

I don’t for a moment begrudge Hillary her victory on Tuesday. But if victory came for the reasons we’ve been led to believe – because women voters ultimately saw in her, exhausted and near defeat, a countenance that mirrored their own – then I hate what that victory says about the state of their lives and the nature of the emotions they carry forward into this race. I hate the thought that women feel beaten down, backed into a corner, overwhelmed and near to breaking point, as Hillary appeared to be in the debate Saturday night. And I hate even more that they’ve got to see a strong, smart and savvy woman cut down to size before they can embrace her as one of their own.

Judith Warner in the New York Times

“So why is the sex barrier not taken as seriously as the racial one?”

So why is the sex barrier not taken as seriously as the racial one? The reasons are as pervasive as the air we breathe: because sexism is still confused with nature as racism once was; because anything that affects males is seen as more serious than anything that affects “only” the female half of the human race; because children are still raised mostly by women (to put it mildly) so men especially tend to feel they are regressing to childhood when dealing with a powerful woman; because racism stereotyped black men as more “masculine” for so long that some white men find their presence to be masculinity-affirming (as long as there aren’t too many of them); and because there is still no “right” way to be a woman in public power without being considered a you-know-what.

…

[W]hat worries me is that he is seen as unifying by his race while she is seen as divisive by her sex.

What worries me is that she is accused of “playing the gender card” when citing the old boys’ club, while he is seen as unifying by citing civil rights confrontations.

What worries me is that male Iowa voters were seen as gender-free when supporting their own, while female voters were seen as biased if they did and disloyal if they didn’t.

What worries me is that reporters ignore Mr. Obama’s dependence on the old — for instance, the frequent campaign comparisons to John F. Kennedy — while not challenging the slander that her progressive policies are part of the Washington status quo.

What worries me is that some women, perhaps especially younger ones, hope to deny or escape the sexual caste system; thus Iowa women over 50 and 60, who disproportionately supported Senator Clinton, proved once again that women are the one group that grows more radical with age.

            –Gloria Steinem, “Women Are Never Front-Runners,” today’s NYT

I’m so frustrated.

I realized today that email isn’t just email. I’m a writer. As in it’s my job. Email is work. It stresses me out. In 2008, I’d like to email less and talk more.

I resolve to stop emailing long letters to friends who are in the same town, whom I could get together with easily. Email is for quick communication. It’s for business that doesn’t require tone. Writing a long email feels more and more like an obligation. Communicating with friends shouldn’t feel that way. I’d rather send one postcard a week via US mail than write an email update on “what’s up.” I’d really rather talk on the phone.

I know this is unrealistic. Email is easy. People are at their desks all day, it’s an efficient way to catch up without having to make noise or wait until after work. When writing is your job, you sit down at the desk to do your job and then there’s email and it’s exercising the same muscle you use to do your job but the job doesn’t get done. Then when you (or I) go to do the job, the muscle is frequently tired. The job is harder for having emailed.

In 2008 I resolve to make things easier.

Is it obnoxious to ask friends to call me to catch up rather than email? It seems mean and anti-social. It’s mean and anti-social not to return emails, one could argue, or to do so without an explanation. It does sound rather “I’m above your whole ‘technology’ thing” for me to try to exempt myself from email. But socially, I’m going to try. If you’re a friend of mine with whom I exchange long rambly emails, let’s try to do it less. I care about you. (Some of you more than others–YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. I’m kidding. Wouldn’t that be funny if I weren’t? Or ridiculous? Oh well. I find it a little funny.) I don’t want our communication to feel like work.

I’m not going to stop emailing altogether or get mad if friends email me. That would be sociopathic. But I’m in need of a moderate lessening of intensity. Obviously it goes without saying that if you EVER have anything even remotely emotionally delicate to say to anyone, don’t do it via email. With me or anyone. No tone. Email. Has.

NB: Please keep emailing me constantly: business associates, Girl’s Guide fans, people who want signed bookplates, people who don’t know my phone number, people who want to offer me money, secret admirers, people who want me to send money to Nigeria or purchase misspelled prescription drugs.