Category Archives: pop culture

Dear Blank, Please Blank

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Image by phanlop88, freedigitalphotos.net

Image by phanlop88, freedigitalphotos.net

Dear Dear Blank, Please Blank,

You have just surpassed stretching, making sure my DVR is programmed and Facebook as my favorite way to procrastinate.

Keep up the good work, Leslie

I stumbled across a very funny website the other day, www.DearBlankPleaseBlank.com. It’s a site where people write in and fill in the blanks.

You know how sometimes you get really pissed off or frustrated about something and you don’t want to write an entire column about it? Or you would love to write an entire column about it, but you know your editor would never publish it? Or if you did write about it, then you would have to spend the rest of your life worrying that a certain so-and-so who shall not be named might come sneaking in your door at night and strangle you while you were sleeping?

Before now you couldn’t just vent your frustrations, amusement or plain old annoyance any old place. Now you can. This is the perfect site to share all of that pent-up wickedness you dare not say (or write) out loud.

The site was created by Jared Wunsch and Hans Johnson, two Seattle guys in their 20’s with enough sarcastic wit to program animated cartoon villain mustaches onto their pictures when you roll your mouse over their faces. Hans opens his “about me” bio with, “In 1984 my father bought our first computer, it was the original Apple Macintosh. I poured apple juice into the floppy-drive, for which he never forgave me.”

Clearly these are funny guys, but their readers are even funnier, populating the site with “Dear Blank, Please Blank” gems like:

Dear Middle School Boys,

A can of Axe is meant to last you more than one day.

Sincerely, Gagging Middle School Girls

or

Dear World,

My last name is not Dammit.

Sincerely, God

or

Dear Anti-Fans,

I can tolerate Justin Bieber. I can tolerate Twilight. I can tolerate Miley and Demi and Selena and the Jonas Brothers. I can no longer tolerate you. When you’re more annoying than the fans you claim are obnoxious, you’re doing something wrong.

Sincerely, a person who’ll take the actual fans any day.

And one of my favorites,

“Dear The Most Interesting Man in the world,

Join us, and together we can rule the universe.

Sincerely, Chuck Norris and Old Spice Man.

Incidentally, my niece, who got straight A’s last semester, did a rather brilliant (at least according to her parents) college presentation on “The Most Interesting Man in the World,” so clearly these contributors are onto something.

Readers monitor the submissions and vote on which sections the submissions get categorized in. The options include: “How Dare They” (Dear Ex-Boyfriend, Changing your relationship status to “single” on Facebook is not a good way to break up with someone. Sincerely, All you had to do was tell me; “You’re a Douche” (Dear jf;ldsfa/kvsmmklnn, Please lknvfdmv.xvn. Sincerely, Stevie Wonder); “Hilarious” (Dear gangsters, I would pants you, but it looks like someone beat me to it. Sincerely, Anonymous); “I Like This” (Dear People of the World, I don’t mean to sound slutty, but please use me whenever you want. Sincerely, Grammar); “Random” (Dear Romeo, I’m gonna fake my own death tonight. Don’t freak out or do anything stupid. Sincerely, Juliet); and “Umm WTF?!” (Dear optimists and pessimists, I don’t care whether it’s half full or half empty, is anyone gonna drink that? Sincerely, an opportunist).

Then there’s my personal favorite, which defies categorization:

Dear person reading this,

You’re here because you’re actively procrastinating or avoiding real work, aren’t you? It’s OK…me too.

Sincerely, I’ll work tomorrow.

When Leslie’s not amused by www.DearBlankPleaseBlank.com, she’s usually amusing herself at Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com.

I Wish I’d Thought of That

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Image by Stuart Miles, freedigitalphotos.net

Image by Stuart Miles, freedigitalphotos.net

Jon Stewart had a guy on the other night named William Rosen who wrote a book called, “The Most Powerful Idea in the World: A Story of Steam, Industry, and Invention.”

The most powerful? Seriously? Not that I have anything against steam engines but I highly doubt that they were the most powerful idea in the world, if that’s what the book is about. I’m assuming it is because what else would it be about? Steaming your cappuccino? The invention of the steam bath? I’m guessing saunas, while pleasant enough, aren’t that big a deal.

Anyway, I didn’t actually watch Jon Stewart’s interview with this guy because I was really tired from catching up on episodes of “The Colbert Report” because of the whole DirecTV, DVR, time-shifting your TV watching thing. Now that’s a powerful invention. Being able to watch “Mad Men” at 7 p.m. while the rest of your Facebook friends are still talking about how they can’t wait to see what happens to Don and Betty Draper later that night and you already know. Talk about feeling drunk with power, knowledge, wealth and overall superiority. Muahaha! Now that’s the kind of thing I want to invent.

Like this website I heard about recently, www.runpee.com, which does the research in advance so you come to the theater already knowing the best time to go to the bathroom when you’re at the movies. Brilliant. There’s nothing worse than sitting through an endless piece of family entertainment, such as “The Karate Kid” remake-which could have lost an entire hour without losing a single second of its entertainment value-while wiggling in your seat for 30 minutes because you think that the movie has to be over any minute now, for the last 30 minutes.

Another great idea is Switch Gear Jewelry (www.switchgearkit.com). I won a set of these mix and match earrings and they’re one of those simple genius ideas that make you think, “Wow, I should have thought of that.” Basically, it is a kit that gives you tons of options to create your own earrings on the spot (no tools) using various combinations of interchangeable hoops, chains, and funky architectural materials such as metal, rubber and tortoise shell. It’s totally fun and super easy. Again, why didn’t I think of that?

Then there’s the Java Log (www.pinemountainbrands.com) for your fireplace. Hello? What a great idea this is. Every time I throw out my coffee grounds I think I should do something with these. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this idea before Rod Sprules, the guy who’s now making millions selling these green firelogs that not only divert 12 million pounds of coffee grounds from landfills each year, they also make great smelling fires, and give you a caffeine buzz to boot!

Probably my favorite new invention of all is from Daniel Wright, the author of “Patently Silly” and proprietor of the website www.patentlysilly.com. This guy is a college engineering major turned comedian, who now makes his living making fun of other people’s inventions. His website and book feature zany ideas-all of which have real patents-such as an Apparatus for Cat’s Cradle Game, a Hip Hop Aerobic Exercise Doll and a Thong Diaper. Talk about a patently obviously brilliant idea. He didn’t even have to invent anything, he just had to write about silly things that other people invented!

I wish I’d thought of that.

Share your invention ideas with Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com. Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on July 30, 2010.

The Girl Who Stared Into Space

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Image by marcolm, freedigitalphotos.net

Image by marcolm, freedigitalphotos.net

Last Sunday I went to the beach to relax with my husband and son. It was a perfect warm day, with just the right amount of sea breeze. I had warned them both earlier that I wasn’t in the mood to socialize. I just wanted to veg out with the sand in my toes and a book under my nose.

We spotted friends a few yards up the shoreline but I wasn’t in the mood to socialize. I was determined to $#% relax that afternoon, as I ever so (im)patiently explained to my loved ones. They were supposed to read their books too.

That was our plan.

I was going to $#% relax if it killed me.

I had said so-clearly-before we left the house.

The tall guy immediately took off on a walk, while the short one read his book and I read mine. “Ah summer,” I thought lazily. “This is exactly what I needed. Pure bliss.”

That blissful feeling lasted a whole 45 minutes till I turned the last page of Richard Russo’s “That Old Cape Magic” (good book, by the way) at the exact same moment the short one turned the last page of Cory Doctorow’s “For the Win.”

I handed him my iPhone to play with (hey, it was an emergency) and dug in my beach bag for another book.

Now, if I were to have my own version of “The Girl Who Fixed the Umlaut” it would be “The Girl Who Never Ever EVER Wanted to Run Out of Books to Read,” as evidenced by the 18 unread books I have sitting by the bedside and the other 247 I have in various rooms around the house.

I am never ever EVER without a book to read and yet I didn’t seem to have another one in my bag. This couldn’t be happening to me! I was always prepared with an extra book (or two or three), yet there I was sitting on the beach with perfect weather and a child who was uncharacteristically tired enough to sit there contentedly playing a game on my phone with little or no interaction required on my part-and no book to read!

I honestly had no idea what to do with myself.

I was so un-used to having the luxury of a few minutes just to space out that it took a little while for this to option occur to me.

I’m so used to always having a child to entertain, a project to think about, an article to work on, a book to read, a problem to solve or a friend to talk to that the idea of sitting and staring out at the vastness of the ocean took a while to sink in.

Then it took me a while to remember how to do it. To simply sit and do nothing and allow my thoughts to wander where they may, with no specific purpose or direction.

To simply be.

To relax and enjoy the sounds of the birds and the warmth of the sunshine and the salty smell of the ocean and the gritty sand between my toes was pure bliss once I got the hang of it.

Who knows, by the end of August maybe I’ll actually be “The Girl Who Stared Into Space-and Liked It” after all.

Share your summer stories with Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com. Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on July 23, 2010.

Peace Love Dirt

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Courtesy Live Oak Music Festival (Instagram)

Courtesy Live Oak Music Festival (Instagram)

Welcoming summer at Live Oak Music Festival

The salty smell of Coppertone. A colorful explosion of tie-dyed t-shirts and low-backed beach chairs. A cacophony of live music out in the sun and under the stars. That first sip of an ice cold Cadillac Margarita where the sweet kiss of Grand Marnier meets the sour tang of lime-laced tequila. Summer has finally arrived and I couldn’t have conjured up a better place to greet it than the Live Oak Music Festival.

Believe it or not, this was my first journey to this timeless spot, nestled in the peaceful Santa Ynez Valley, just minutes away from my Santa Barbara home, but worlds away from my fall-winter-springtime life in the carpool lane.

I know it seems like an oxymoron to say that a live music festival featuring a kaleidoscope of sounds ranging from traditional folk, bluegrass, gospel, to blues, jazz, classical, pop, world music and pirate aurghs could actually be peaceful, but somehow this one was.

Unlike some of the musical festivals I’ve been to in recent years, at Live Oak there was no mosh pit to fear, no skunkweed stink and no stale beer spills to accidentally step into. It was just an eclectic mix of great opportunities to hear, make and learn about music in a pleasant atmosphere alongside a community of several thousand genuinely friendly people relaxing and enjoying themselves. What a great way to welcome the summer.

No wonder people have been coming back here for 22 years.

It was Rickie Lee Jones who finally lured us to Live Oak. I was first introduced to her spacey, jazzy, sad chick sounds when I was in college, and thought “We Belong Together” was the most romantic song on earth. I still can’t resist Johnny the King walking in the streets without her in the rain looking for a leather jacket and a girl who wrote her name forever.

Her “Flying Cowboys” CD tunefully distracted me while her album of standards (“Pop Pop”) amused me through my commute during my driving years of living in Los Angeles. Zak was a fan too. We’d seen Rickie Lee Jones perform half a dozen or so times over the years, mostly in dark, smoky clubs, so we jumped at the chance to see her outside under the giant oak trees. The fact that it was Father’s Day was a bonus, as the rest of my family (and a few friends) jumped at this unique way to celebrate the holiday.

As usual, she didn’t disappoint. The sound was great, the setting unparalleled and I still love her music just as much as I did the first time I heard it.

I didn’t have any idea what to expect from the rest of the artists and was happily surprised. Starting with the high energy antics of Baka Beyond, who fuse African music from the Cameroon rainforest with Celtic fiddling, and sing about things like peace and porridge. Then there was the amazing jazz organist Dr. Lonnie Smith, who you really have to see-and hear-to believe; followed by the folksy rock tunes of Josh Ritter, an indie artist who is making a dent in the mainstream big-time, having recently been discovered and marketed by Starbucks.

They were all enjoyable but I have to say I took as much pleasure in people watching as I did the music.

Where else can you see (and Solstice doesn’t count) an absurdly fun parade led by an octogenarian Grandma in a purple tutu; a tribe of Zinka-nosed surf rats; a blissed-out hippie swaying to a tune that only he can hear; a weathered cowboy hosing down the dusty path as a bevy of tiny fairies hand out wishing dust; joined by a 50-ish brunette with a stylish haircut, Prada shoes, and a pair of ladybug wings and a yupped-out backpacker couple loaded down with the entire REI catalog worth of coolers and chairs?

My son liked playing soccer the best and I think my dad enjoyed his nap, so three generations of our family and friends all found something to like under the giant oaks this Father’s Day.

“This is a really cool thing. We should do it again next year,” said my mom, smiling and passing some more food. I couldn’t agree more.

What signals summer to you? Email Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com. Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on June 25, 2010.

Noozhawk Talks: Leslie Dinaberg Sits Down With Spencer Barnitz

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Spencer Barnitz, aka Spencer the Gardener, says his music is “shaped by the ocean, the rhythms of the world and pop music from my life.” (Lara Cooper / Noozhawk photo)

Spencer Barnitz, aka Spencer the Gardener, says his music is “shaped by the ocean, the rhythms of the world and pop music from my life.” (Lara Cooper / Noozhawk photo)

Spencer Barnitz‘s unique pipes and idiosyncratic perspective have entertained music fans for most of his life. His new wave band The Tan began when he was barely out of Santa Barbara High, eventually followed by a still-active cover band, The Wedding Band, and for the past 21 years, Spencer the Gardener, a sound the band describes as “California sun-kissed, Latin-tinged, genre-bending, big-band surf mariachi indie pop.”

Leslie Dinaberg: There’s something really unique about your music, whether you’re singing a pop song or in Spanish and even now with your kids’ album, “Organic Gangster.”  What do you think it is that makes something a Spencer song?

Spencer Barnitz: My songs are really shaped by the ocean, the rhythms of the world and pop music from my life. As a kid I listened to the Supremes but I loved Brit pop too and Mexican stuff, Salsa music, so it’s kind of a fusion in a way of a lot of those different things, which has been great and has been bad. It’s kind of a blessing and a curse in a lot of different ways.

LD: Is it different playing kid’s music?

SB: It’s funny having a CD like that. It’s cute and it has a good message. … For me it’s such a different thing because I’ve been doing pop music for so long. It’s still pop music but it’s just a different manifestation.

LD: How did you decide that you wanted to do this?

SB: Well it was kind of interesting because my girlfriend sells worms; she’s the worm girl. Last year they did a short it was in the green shorts festival. … I said you want a song? I’ll write a song for it.

I loved it! I had done the “Gobble Song” a couple of years ago, which became sort of an Internet sensation, every Thanksgiving it gets tons of hits. So there were a couple kid’s songs and I thought you know what, I should just try to keep going because everything I wrote was really fast and fun.

I did it very fast. Like one day I was reading the horoscope and it was talking about a mountain chicken frog. I was like there’s no way there is a mountain chicken frog. I went and looked it up and there it was. It’s in danger of becoming extinct. I just quickly wrote a song about it and loved the song and I love the fact that that’s how I found it. … So it’s been kind of fun and it’s been educational for me in a way.

LD: Talking to kids you get to-or have to be-so much more on the nose than you are when you are talking to adults. You do have to really say things in a different way and it’s not always easy.

SB: Because you have to sort of know what you’re talking about. (Laughs)

LD: I’ve been listening to your music since I was 16 or something and now my son got to hear you sing at his school. I love that.

SB: You know there was somebody there at the spaghetti dinner at the school and the dad had been aware of the Tan since he was 14. So it was kind of like oh wow, I don’t know if I should say thanks or sorry. Now his daughter is listening to it, so that is just an insanely long generational thing, which I like that for myself, it makes me happy. I don’t know if it makes other people happy (Laughs).

LD: Oh absolutely it does.

SB: I think I’m past the point of … sometimes you get to a point where they’re like wow they’re still here. And then you go beyond that point and it’s like wow, they’re still here.

LD: Plus you do such a wide variety of stuff Do you write all the music for Spencer the Gardener?

SB: I do except for we did put out two years ago we put out a record called “Fiesta” and I didn’t write any of that, those are all cover songs. I’ve wanted to do that record since I was a kid. Probably the reason I speak Spanish is because I grew up singing Spanish, which has a lot to do with Santa Barbara. Fiesta was just always a part of things. So I did that record because I wanted to and I’ll probably do another one at some point.

I remember I had a class at Santa Barbara High School, Mr. Hall was my Spanish teacher, and every Friday he would have everybody sing, which was just terrifying in high school.

LD: Why?

SB: I didn’t do that yet. My sister was always a good singer. She’s actually on this record.

LD: I saw that.

SB: And she’s the principal at Ellwood School. So my sister had sung a lot but I wasn’t a singer, but I would surf and I was going to Mexico so in high school on Friday afternoons you could just see everyone go oh no, but it was fun, but it was terrifying. But for these young kids it’s really fun. They’re young, they’re singing, they’re laughing. They don’t have the self-conscious thing that you do when you’re in high school.

LD: I remember your sister from junior high. That’s cool that she sang on your record.

SB: She’s got a great voice. When she got out of high school she left Santa Barbara and didn’t come back for a long time. She went to Berklee School of Music, she sang on the East Coast and so she is a very good singer.

LD: How did you guys get so musical?

SB: I don’t know. My dad died young so I don’t really even know that whole side of the family. But my sister and I, when she came back into town and she was singing she was doing some weird hand movements and I was looking at her like those are mine. They’re not my mom’s or my dad’s, they’re mine, but they are hers too. And she speaks fluent Spanish, she actually speaks a couple of languages and its like wow this is so weird, there are two kids who do these things. She just started to surf. We both do these things that are completely separate from both of our parents. … it’s just kind of some mix, maybe some weird hybrid.

LD: So tell me about how you got started in music?

SB: Well Brad (Nack) went to Europe in 1978 and … he came back and said you know we should start a new wave band. I was 18, and he was 20 … it was like we thought maybe girls would like us and it was something to do besides surfing (Laughs) and all of those same reasons that everyone does that. … I said that sounds fun, let’s go to Mexico I’ll teach you how to play guitar and we’ll write some songs and start a band.

LD: Why Mexico?

SB: Mexico has been an interesting part of my life. For some reason no matter where I go it’s like something ends up having part of Mexico in it. Mexico is because we surf for one, so that’s always a thing. If you live in California and you surf, usually you take some trips to Mexico because it’s close. For me it is a lot more than because like I said, I grew up singing in Spanish and I’ve just always spent a lot of time in Mexico. Perhaps that was one of the reasons too is just because we started the band there. We were gone for three months and then came back and started the Tan.

We were even thinking of doing a new Tan record and going to Mexico to do it.

LD: After seeing all of those people who showed up at your reunion show last summer, I think you’d have a market.

SB: There are a lot of justifications and rationalizations for doing things like going to Mexico. Yeah let’s go for six months. We need to do this. This is what we need to do (Laughs). This is really going to be a good thing for us. And it is always a good thing for me. I mean it’s been it’s been rejuvenation, escape, it’s been all kinds of things I suppose.

… We went to Mexico on a surf trip with the idea of learning to play guitars and writing songs and that’s exactly what we did and came back and started the Tan. And for a while it was fun but it was like we were definitely counter culture at that time and then somehow or other we got into the mainstream and I somehow ended up being in music for the rest of my life (Laughs).

LD: Did you ever think when you and Brad were wandering off to Mexico to learn to play guitar that this would become your life’s work?

SB: Not in the same way that I do now. There’s the beauty of youth which is you just think everything you do is going to be great. So yeah, sure, we thought we would be retired by 26 and have all the money in the world (Laughs). It was kind of a brutally rude awakening that that wasn’t going to happen. But it’s been a pretty fun ride. A good one. Music has given me a lot. It’s taken me all over the world. I mean it’s probably not for everybody because it is not real stable; there are highs and lows. It’s left me in far corners of the world too.

LD: To sing your way home?

SB: Yeah. But it’s gotten me there.

LD: Have you always stayed pretty much rooted in Santa Barbara?

SB: Yeah. I lived in LA for a little while. We moved to London with the Tan for a couple years but more and more it doesn’t matter where you are now because everything is so easy to get somewhere else. Santa Barbara is, I mean this is a great place. It is it has so much out of the world of what you want, at least what I want. It’s beautiful, it’s warm, and it’s convenient. It’s expensive but a lot of places are expensive.

LD: I read that you had a pretty serious car accident years ago?

SB: 1991. I broke all of the bones in my face. I still have plates in my face. The worst thing about that was that was right after we put out two CDs, we were on fire, and everyone was just like waiting for what the next thing with us was going to be. We had a management company and it just seemed like there was no stopping us, except for maybe a head-on, death-defying car accident, which put us out of commission for a year.

And the musical landscape changed. Our management company and us severed ties and then we just blindly kept going because I was stubborn. So yeah, that changed, that reshaped probably a lot of my future.

LD: It’s interesting though to look back on things like that because you’re making very different music now than you did back then.

SB: The stuff I do is always slightly quirky so I mean in that way if you listen to the first Spencer the Gardener CD and the one that I’m about to do, it’s still similar. Or if you listen to the first one and the kids’ one, it’s still crazy, wacky funny.

LD: Do you ever feel a kind of push and pull between art and commerce?

SB: (Laughs) Yes I do. I wish that my stuff sold like crazy!

You know I think it’s funny now because everything is so much easier. Everybody can do things but there are so many more people doing it and everything is pretty good you know, and I bind myself into that. It’s not like it’s world changingly earth shatteringly fantastic. There are a lot of fairly good bands out there, so it’s hard to kind of like sneak through and end up where you are basically have broken though where your art and commerce intersect in a beautiful way.

LD: What else do you do when you’re not working?

SB: I like to surf, play basketball, salsa, those are probably tops, jump high, run fast.

LD: If you could pick three adjectives to describe yourself, what would they be?

SB: Wow this is a really interesting question because now you’ll dealing with what do you want them to be or what are they. This is one I’m going to actually think about for a while … (Spencer sends an email to Leslie several days later) I have been perplexed by adjectives all week, so I guess self-absorbed would have to be one of them … calm and sarcastic, then, depending on the day, they change directions lazy, driven, witty, dull, thrill seeking, couch laden, etc. I doubt if you meant for me to give it this much thought…

I was thinking adventurous but no that’s not really true anymore. That was true at one time. I’ve changed over the years in different ways. That would have been something that I would have loved and would have said and would have believed and probably not so much anymore.

LD: Well there are all kinds of adventure. You could certainly argue that pursuing a life as a musician is an adventurous path.

SB: Yeah, either that or just kind of ridiculous. If you mix whimsical, adventurous and difficult together you might get ridiculous. … It’s funny because we used to have a song in the Tan called “young, strong and free.”

LD: I like that.

SB: Which would have been really the way we described ourselves. I would still say fun. Because that’s a word I overuse. Stubborn, determined and what does Einstein say when you keep doing the same thing and expecting different results.

LD: That’s the definition of insanity (Laughs).

SB: Yeah, unfortunately that seems to fit with me a little bit too.

Vital Stats: Spencer Barnitz

Born: September 14 in Santa Barbara, CA

Family: Father deceased, mother Mercedes, sister Liz

Civic Involvement: “I’ve done just a whole mess of benefits over the years for a lot of different organizations. I’m not actively involved with anybody right now.”

Best Book You’ve Read Recently: God’s Middle Finger: Into the Lawless Heart of the Sierra Madre by Richard Grant; Shadow of the Wind. 

Originally published in Noozhawk on May 11, 2010.

The Next Generation of Dolls

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The Gwen Thompson American Girl Doll

The Gwen Thompson American Girl Doll

Shopping for little girls is one of my favorite things about the holidays. Not that balls, books and board games aren’t exciting to shop for, but for a boy-mom like myself, there’s something magical about wandering through the pink-drenched aisles of the girls’ section of a toy store. I’ve heard animated birds chirp and seen fluffy cotton candy clouds burst into a storm of glitter when I shop in the girls’ aisle.

The Barbies are familiar—especially the Barbie Twilight Edward doll, who was on every magazine cover in the universe last month—but the Bratz, Earth Friends, Global Green Pals and Sushiami dolls are glamorous, exotic, foreign creatures. I can’t wait to inspect each and every one.

The Poupettes are pretty cute, and Moxie Girlz Sophia’s tutu is darling, but there’s a different name on my nieces’ list this year—Gwen Thompson. She’s one of the newest characters in the American Girl Doll collection and when I asked to take a look at her, the saleswoman said she’s only available through the American Girl Company.

Uh oh. I was afraid of that. I’ve only ventured into American Girl Place once, but it still scares me.

Actually it’s not just the store that scares me-although one step into this alternate universe where girls and their dolls dress alike, have their “Do’s” done at the Doll Hair Salon and their “Don’ts” repaired at the Doll Hospital is enough to drive a sane adult insane, and make the “It’s A Small World” ride at Disneyland seem downright subtle-the doll scares me too.

Gwen-who costs $95 and that doesn’t include a winter coat-is a homeless American Girl Doll.

Not homeless as in “hasn’t been sold yet and is still living on the shelves of American Girl Place waiting to come home with an eager little girl,” but homeless as in “she doesn’t have a place to live.” I’m guessing she doesn’t see the irony of arriving in a cardboard box.

Conceived as a friend character to Chrissa, the “2009 Girl of the Year” who has her own movie coming out in January, Gwen’s story is told in her history book (which is included in the $95 price). There you learn that her father lost his job and walked out on the family, then her mother lost her job and Gwen and her mom spent several months sleeping in the family car before they got a new place to stay through Sunrise House, a homeless shelter for women and children.

Wow. Now I’m waiting for the doll inspired by Amy Winehouse.

That’s a lot of baggage to lay on a doll. It might even more stressful than Barbie’s WNBA Player, Astronaut, Veterinarian, and Supermodel career path. When Gwen first hit the shelves earlier this year it’s no surprise that she was controversial.

About.com women’s issues writer Linda Lowen wondered, “How does a toy manufacturer reconcile the excesses of privilege with the unmet basic needs caused by deprivation? By creating a character who faces these challenges and by manufacturing a doll in her likeness, is Mattel opening up an important dialogue or slapping a Barbie Band Aid on a social issue that’s been prettified and commodified?”

New York Post columnist Andrea Peyser went so far as to call out the doll as inappropriate “political indoctrination” intended to encourage children to sympathize with the homeless. “It seems obscene that a company that prides itself on teaching impressionable children about history and-you can have your doll’s hair done for $20! -should engage in political preaching,” she wrote, setting off a firestorm of criticism of the company, the most valid of which I thought was that the proceeds from sales should go toward helping actual homeless children. (By giving them food, clothing and shelter, in addition to cartloads of overpriced dolls.)

Said an American Girl Company spokesperson: “The doll is meant to teach tolerance and is part of an outreach program teaching young girls how to spot bullying and stand up and speak out against it.” They have also stated that the dolls “offer valuable lessons about life,” and are “disheartened that there has been any confusion over our fictional characters.”

The company also pointed out that it has given almost $500,000 to HomeAid, a national nonprofit group that helps the homeless find housing.

A $500,000 donation to help the homeless does make this a little more palatable, but I don’t think that the homeless doll will be finding its way into my nieces’ homes anytime soon. On my budget, I’d probably end up like Gwen.

When Leslie’s not playing in the toy aisles, she can be reached at Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com. Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on December 11, 2009.

Boys Will be Boys

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Ed Hardy Tee ShirtI learned a new word recently: “Dad-olescence,” described by Daily Beast writer Sean Macaulay as the modern, midlife crisis-aged male’s tendency to “act like a sullen teenager … a low-grade regressive style of acting-out that’s now so widespread among midlife males it deserves its own label.”

Unlike the stereotypical midlife crises our parents’ generation had-using the fruits of their success to buy boy toys such as sports cars and hot, young girlfriends-Macaulay says that the double-whammy of delayed parenting and the economic crisis have created an epidemic of Dad-olescents grappling with their own mortality at the same time the credit crunch “nixes any chance of the classic ego-boosting spending spree” and their post-feminist upbringings and subsequent “guilt airbags” keep them faithful to their wives.

No wonder some of these guys are feeling down in the dumps. Party games like “dueling ailments” and “pin the hair on the bald guy” don’t exactly help to lift their 40-something spirits, as evidenced by some of the soirees I’ve attended recently. And piercing your ears and wearing Ed Hardy tee shirts is a lot less fun than driving with the top down on your Porsche.

Yet my husband remains suspiciously chipper, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a Porsche or a hottie. He might be able to keep a Porsche hidden from me, but who has the time or money for a girlfriend? No, I credit this to the fact that he’s so in touch with his inner child. While few women will admit their age, I have found that even fewer men act theirs. I often feel like I have two boys living with me: a ten-year-old and a 12-year-old-in-a-44-year-old-body-who-thinks-he-has-a-34-year-old-body.

For the most part, my two boys play really well together. They both love science fiction/fantasy stories, computer games, Doritos, pretending not to hear what I’m saying, jumping on the furniture and fart jokes. The younger one also likes Pokemon (again!) and watches a lot of sports on TV. But the older one can drive-and buy beer-which is very convenient for me.

The ten-year-old is in that preadolescent, unpredictable tween stage; still young enough to sit on my lap one moment and then greet me with a too cool for school head flip the next. His father’s behavior toward me is equally erratic; depending on what he wants, what he did wrong and who else is around to witness it.

But most of the time, thankfully, they’re both pretty happy guys. I guess I should consider myself lucky there’s not a lot of Dad-olescent behavior going on in our house. Of course there’s always that possibility that they’ll both evolve into moody, uncommunicative teens at some point, but for right now boys will be boys-and so will a lot of middle-aged men.

When Leslie’s not stocking up on Clearasil for her boys she can be reached at Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com.  Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on December 4, 2009.

The Roar of the Cougar

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Cougar TownWatching “Cougar Town” makes me feel dirty-and not in a good way. I really wanted to like this show. Despite the high concept potential for disaster, when I heard about it I had high hopes. The star, Courtney Cox, was my third favorite “Friends” actress and her last series, the short-lived “Dirt,” was delightfully trashy. I figured “Cougar Town” would be more of the same.

Besides, clearly this show and I were made for each other. I’m over 40 and I’m married to a hot younger man, so I should be able to relate, right?

Of course being a 40-something woman in real life means juggling work between laundry loads, driving car pool, supervising homework, and putting away groceries. I still go out to bars occasionally, but mainly with girlfriends, and I can’t remember the last time I wore three-inch heels, let alone recall how to walk in them. But on TV the 40-something women-whether judges, detectives, game show contestants or in the case of Cox’s “Cougar Town” character, real estate agents-all have one thing in common: they’re on the prowl for hot, lusty sex with ripped guys only a few years older than their children.

Not that there’s anything wrong with this.

When I see an obviously older woman with a younger guy-and can safely rule out the idea that he’s her son-I usually think “more power to her.” Or, if I’ve had enough cocktails and there’s 80s music playing, “you go girl.”

I also don’t automatically assume the guy’s a himbo, just because he’s young.

Six-pack abs are great, but intelligent conversation is a must, as is a sense of humor, and the second two don’t necessarily fall exclusively in the province of people born before the Reagan administration. Unlike a lot of men, who are happy to be in the company of women who simply look pretty and have absolutely nothing of interest to say, I don’t know a lot of women who aren’t interested in talking, both before and after sex.

According to author Valerie Gibson’s “Cougar: A Guide for Older Women Dating Younger Men,” “a cougar is the new breed of single, older woman-confident, sophisticated, desirable, and sexy. She knows exactly what she wants. What she doesn’t want is children, cohabitation, or commitment.”

That I can understand.

I love being married, but if anything ever happened to my husband, getting another one wouldn’t be high on my list of priorities.

I was expecting “Cougar Town” to be a funny, fantasy show about the road not taken. What would it be like to be a woman my age dating a hot younger man? And what would it be like to be living in a “Cougar Town” where this was as commonplace as it is for men to be squiring around much younger women?

Boy was I disappointed.

Instead “Cougar Town” makes turning 40 look like a life sentence at a sadistic day spa where your life is all about nipping, tucking and sucking it in. Rather than simply enjoying being who she is, Cox’s character is constantly commenting on how old she is, how pretty she used to be and how uncomfortable she is in her own skin.

“If aliens learned about our culture by watching our newest television shows, they might assume that planet Earth was terrorized by predatory middle-aged women with hairless, bony bodies and the same blank expression on their overly Botoxed faces, a look of creepy awe at the joys of 20-something tenderloin,” wrote Heather Havrilesky in Salon.

Ick! She’s right.

This is just the opposite of the vast majority of 40-something women that I know.

Getting older is about knowing who you are, and finally, finally, FINALLY being comfortable in your own skin-no matter how wrinkled it may be. Unfortunately the writers of this show-who are mostly middle-aged men-just don’t get that.

When Leslie isn’t trying to find something worth watching on TV, she can be reached at Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com.  Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on October 30, 2009.

Let Lying Liars Lie

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The Invention of LyingI try to teach my son that honesty is the best policy, but truthfully, I don’t always tell the truth.

I’ve got lies on my mind this week because I saw The Invention of Lying, which, despite a great high concept – in a world where people can only tell the truth, one man discovers he can lie – is a wildly uneven mess of a movie. But it did make me think about how many white lies I routinely tell in the course of an average day.

I contemplated the idea of keeping a lying journal, then tracking when I was tempted to lie and whether I would be able to resist the temptation to fib if I was more aware of it. But why lie to myself? That’s way too ambitious and I wouldn’t last a day, let alone a week.

From the time-saving auto-response “I’m fine” after an innocent query of “How are you doing?” (Which I’m sure the grocery store checker and the people in line behind me would much prefer to “I just ate a donut from the display case and killed a man, and I’m not sure which is worse.”), to the “Of course I’m not too busy” response when a friend calls and they desperately need to talk, I’m a scarily skillful liar. Innocent little fibs like this are second nature for me.

Whether it’s the art of the artful dodge – when my son asks what happened to the M & M’s he had left over from the movies, and I remind him that he needs to unload the dishwasher – or the skillful sidestep – when my husband wonders what happened to the $100 cash he just got from the ATM and I tell him how handsome he is – I’ve come to realize that lying is one of the few things I do rather gracefully.

It’s just my luck that lying – the one useful skill that comes naturally for me -also comes saddled with an entire storage unit full of guilt and ambivalence.

At least I’m not alone.

Research by Dr. Robert S. Feldman of the University of Massachusetts Amherst found that in an average 10-minute discussion, 60 percent of people lie approximately three times. Of course, he may have just made that up.

Moms are the worst offenders of all. “We are surprised by how often parenting by lying takes place,” said researcher Kang Lee of the University of Toronto, Canada. “Our findings showed that even the parents who most strongly promoted the importance of honesty with their children engaged in parenting by lying,” said Lee, who reported her conclusions in a study published in last month’s “Journal of Moral Education.”

Yes, such a journal really exists. And now that I’ve confessed my lying proclivities you probably won’t ever find my name on their masthead, unless I lie about my lying, which I would never do unless I had a really, really, really good story idea that would be perfect for their publication.

I’m even more ambivalent about cultural lies, like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. I sort of want to be honest about them, but I don’t want my son to be the one to burst some other kid’s bubble, and he’s scrupulously honest enough to enjoy doing just that. Plus, I don’t want to get in trouble from the other parents.

This may be why I floundered a bit when Koss recently tested his suspicions about Tabitha. (Tabitha is his Tooth Fairy, who has been writing him notes and sprinkling pixie dust on his dollar coins for almost a decade. I say if you’re going to perpetuate a lie about a fictional character, you may as well go big.) He told us that he wasn’t going to put a particular tooth under his pillow. For four nights in a row there was no tooth. We checked. Then finally on the fifth night he decided to “test Tabitha” and put his tooth under the pillow. We failed to check. The next morning when Koss said he knew there was no tooth fairy, I mumbled and fumbled for a response, finally settling on: “Are you sure? Maybe she just got stuck in traffic.”

Smoooth. I guess I’m not as good of a liar before I’ve had my coffee. That’s also when I catch myself hastily hiding certain gruesome newspaper headlines underneath the sports page before Koss comes to breakfast, which of course makes him all the more curious about what I’m hiding.

While the socially expedient lies come easily, I get a bit rattled under pressure to prevaricate. A few weeks ago when Koss’s school was on lockdown, I told him everyone was safe before I knew it was true. I hoped it was true.

So maybe there’s a bit of wishful thinking in my lies.

I’m in good company here too. An online survey found that 91 percent of women said that as they get older and more comfortable with themselves they lie less often. If I wasn’t 29, this might apply to me too.

Share the biggest whopper of a lie you’ve ever told with Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com.  Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on October 23, 2009.

Punctuate This

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Auburn Elementary School students on National Punctuation Day (courtesy nationalpunctuationday.com)

Auburn Elementary School students on National Punctuation Day (courtesy nationalpunctuationday.com)

It’s not often I get to interview someone on the phone and have them burst into song, but that’s how excited Jeff Rubin gets about punctuation.

As the founder of National Punctuation Day (which is September 24), Rubin will go to great lengths – including singing a chorus of “Punctuation, punctuation. What is that? What is that?” to the tune of Frere Jacques – to get people to pay more attention to dashes, commas and semicolons.

He has also written a rap song (“An EXCLAMATION POINT is so like ‘wow,’ If you’re writin’ so excitin’ then put me in now!”) and performs “Punctuation Playtime” with his wife Norma in school assemblies all over California.

This is a guy who really likes his parenthesis and question marks. )And; Since this is the kind of Column that is fateD to have at least one punctuation’ error, no matter how hard I try, I figure that, I should; just own it?!(

A former journalist, Rubin says that “a proliferation of spelling, grammar and punctuation errors in newspapers that has since spread to magazines and books” motivated him to start the holiday in 2004. He wanted to bring attention to punctuation errors and the importance of punctuation in literacy.

“Lack of attention to punctuation really is a problem,” says a copyeditor I know, who has been in the business for more than 15 years.

“My students’ command of the English language is getting worse and worse,” says a Community College English teacher.

It is feedback like this that keeps Rubin motivated to spread the word about how critical proper punctuation is to communication. Every year he tries to do something to engage the public and get them to respond to National Punctuation Day. “Last year I endorsed the serial comma and that was quite a firestorm of emails and hate mail. But it got people engaged and it got people talking about punctuation. That’s what I want,” he says.

As a writer who works with several different editors in any given week, I’ve spent a fair amount of time wondering about whether I really care enough about the importance of serial commas, since every publication seems to have a different style.

Rubin certainly got a response last year from the Angry Grammarian, a.k.a. Philadelphia Weekly columnist Jeffrey Barg, who wrote, “Punctuation Man’s got a lotta damn gall. I was having a perfectly pleasant National Grammar Day last week … when his treasonous press release arrived: ‘Punctuation Man breaks with Associated Press, endorses serial comma.'”

Slap fight!

Of course this is from another guy who makes his bread and butter on brackets and apostrophes. What about people who aren’t writers? Do they care about punctuation?

Not surprisingly, teachers have been among the first to embrace the holiday. Rubin told me about a law school teacher at Kent State University who has her class do a punctuation play in honor of the holiday and a teacher in Michigan who designed a punctuation football game.

For this year’s holiday Rubin is sponsoring a baking contest where entrants must send a recipe and a sample of their cookie, cake, pastry, doughnut, or bread baked in the shape of a punctuation mark to win prizes.

If you don’t feel up to baking – or can’t stomach giving away your cookies – Rubin offers another game plan to celebrate National Punctuation Day.

* Sleep late.

* Take a long shower or bath.

* Go out for coffee and a bagel (or two).

* Read a newspaper and circle all of the punctuation errors you find (or think you find, but aren’t sure) with a red pen.

* Take a leisurely stroll, paying close attention to store signs with incorrectly punctuated words.

* Stop in those stores to correct the owners.

* If the owners are not there, leave notes.

* Visit a bookstore and purchase a copy of Strunk & White’s The Elements of Style.

* Look up all the words you circled.

* Congratulate yourself on becoming a better written communicator.

* Go home.

* Sit down.

* Write an error-free letter to a friend.

* Take a nap. It has been a long day.

I think I’ll do the list backwards and start with a nap.

For more information about National Punctuation Day visit www. nationalpunctuationday.com. When Leslie’s not playing grammar police she can be reached at Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com. Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on September 18, 2009.