Monday, March 21, 2005


I know that I'm not the funniest person, either in real life or on the internet. Sure, I can make some people laugh through my witty comments and unique view of the world, but I can also make people very uncomfortable with my straight-forward questions and observations. When one of B's friends asked me what was the hardest part of living in Mongolia, I deadpaned: "The lack of food and water when I was quarantined for the bubonic plague." (True story). She was a little taken aback. This is, of course, something that I find funny. Not many other people do.

So last night I was laying in bed, trying to get Honey to lay down and stop pouncing on my toes, watching "The Roast of Jeff Foxworthy". Was that supposed to be comedy? Dennis Leary was featured on a video clip holding up pictures of comedians at the roast, dismissing each one by saying, "Queer," "Dyke", "Fag". The audience was going crazy. Obviously it was hillarious to call known straight performers deragatory gay names. The mainstream media considers calling a straight man a fag the most potent criticism of his masculinity and threat to his legitimacy. As in, "Don't worry Jeff. This guy might be giving you a hard time, but he's a flaming homo." Oh. OK. I get it. It should only hurt your feelings when heterosexuals (i.e. people that you respect) make fun of you. Glad I got that cleared up before my son gets here.

The issue of multiculturalism and "respect for all" came up again this weekend. My Mom and I went shopping on Sunday for arts, crafts, and lullabies. I know, I'm the biggest wuss this side of the Mississippi. I'm only one step away from making my own paper and cloth. Anyways, at the world's largest bookstore, we picked out a cd that celebrates "the universal tradition of lullabies and soothing songs from around the world." I've been listening to it non-stop, wondering if my baby is learning Spanish while I'm writing this blog. "A La Nanita Nana" is playing right now, which is one of my favorites. Unfortunately, most of the songs on the cd sound like they came directly from the Titanic sound track, but that doesn't keep me from exposing my fetus to "mulicultural music". I'm as guilty as every other politically correct liberal. At least I'm not going to call Judy Collins a "dyke" or a "bitch" just because I don't like her music. She would have to do something much worse for me to do that. Like kill my cat. Or turn off my cable.

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