All the Reasons You Should Be Watching "Fame"

Just recently, the Ovation network has been airing day-long marathons of a show that first aired in 1982. Based off the 1980 film by the same name, the series chronicles a gentler, better time when sweatshirt material weighed heavily in the fabric of our fashion choices. But that's not the real reason why you should be watching this show about a school of the arts in New York. The real reasons are as follows:

1. Real Dancers, Real Singers. Debbie Allen (sister of Phylicia Rashad who is longtime tv wife of Bill Cosby) is the producer of Fame. One look at her body in 1982 will tell you this is a woman who is primarily a dancer. Same goes for all of the central actors on the show. These are not actors who have been taught to dance and sing or who even have some dance and song training in their lives. These are the real thing. It makes a difference.



2. Actual Narrative. Take that, Glee fans. There are actual writers who wrote actual storylines for the show Fame. You can go ahead and argue that your little show has narrative, but I will shout you down. Snarky exchanges between superficially developed characters do not equal plot.

3. The Clothes. Oh, man, I want all these clothes. There's a rawness to Fame that's reflected in the clothing. Too, there's a dancer's flexibility to all of their street clothes that is necessary to the frequent dancing and feats of acrobatics that happen on the show. But beyond that, there's a playfulness, an ease of fashion here that reflects the 80s as a whole - a time before high stakes marketing of teen clothing. This makes the clothes inherently more sincere and cooler.


4. The Eighties. Yes, I love the eighties. It's my era, but I would love it even if it weren't my era. Here's why. Everything was more real in the eighties. Everything was less slick, less superficial, and less produced. Fame is a perfect example of this. There's a raw edge to the show that naturally comes from a generation that used hairspray as its main accessory. I don't mean that statement casually or comically. Consider an era before cell phones, youtube, Facebook, iPods, and Mac Cosmetics. This is a show about sweat, hairspray, and Maybelline mascara. That's it. And they look damn good, too. The eighties are about figuring out who you are and being who you are without a team of people producing you. I miss that time. Now I have the Internet and Rachel Zoe and Tim Gunn and Stila Cosmetics guiding me through my day. I used to put Vaselines on my lips. I think I looked really fabulous then.

5. Lastly, the following male leads: Leroy Johnson, Jesse Valesquez, and Christopher Donlon. Hot.

6. It Holds Up. For real, this show holds up even with little Janet Jackson playing the undecided Cleo. Sure, the storylines maintain an innocence that would make Glee viewers laugh out loud, but go ahead and laugh. Embracing teenage sex does not make you hip. And anyhow, Fame addresses teenage sex in a far more believable and less pushy way than Glee. Beyond that, the dancing is still cutting edge and the music, well, the music is amazing. Cassidy, the Flock of Seagulls-esque composer of the show, could still get gigs with his innovative keyboard playing. No, I'm serious.

Overall, the show is solid. Not in a Mad Men or Wire kind of way. But it's worth viewing. Ovation is marketing the show as the original Glee, but it's so much better than that. Glee isn't even in the same universe.

Mom!

This title is to signify that a) the assertive shouting of the word MOM is the greatest force in my life, and b) I still struggle with what that title means.

The daily act of motherhood is not so confusing. I wake up when Atticus calls for me, I make him breakfast, we change diapers and clothes, then I plop him down in front of the television so I can have a few moments to myself in front of the computer. The rest of the day winds away in similar fashion with increasing variety as he gets older and more fun.

I get the daily structure. That's no problem. It's the big idea of motherhood that still confuses me. I don't know how to be a mom, a wife, a teacher, and a writer. Things fall by the wayside, not necessarily in that listed order. I don't know what I'm supposed to want and which things I am supposed to prioritize or when I'm supposed to prioritize them.

What I do know is I'm lucky because Atticus is exactly the kind of kid I wanted. He's got that devil twinkle in his eye and when he laughs, he bends his whole body down to prove how funny he thinks something is. He's funny and assertive and he's got his own thing going on.

Okay, wait. I think I'm onto something. Motherhood is an in-the-moment thing, which is not at all comforting for me. There's too much lack of a plan. This is not ideal for me. I like plans. I like following through on them. I like writing to-do lists. Atticus scoffs at my to-do lists.

It's bigger than this, but that's also the problem. Motherhood is so big, it consumes me. It's too big for words strung together into sentences, whipping through the great vast unknown. I don't like whipping through the great vast unknown without a light, without a schedule, without a map, and certainly, not without a to-do list.

New Year's Resoluting

Despite myself, without intention, I find I have made some seriously life-changing New Year's resolutions. I'm not opposed to resolutions at the start of the new year; in fact, I think they're a fine idea. So here's what I'm doing to make my life a better one:

1. I am turning off my computer at 5pm. This doesn't sound big, but I cannot tell you how much this has already changed my life. My husband and I are the kind of people who keep our computers up all day, visiting them with great frequency to check our e-mail and facebook. Now, after 5pm, there is no reason for me to walk into the office. This means all that attention, once divided, is all Atticus's and Michael's and books that I am actually reading. (Hello, Cloud Atlas!)

2. No purchasing of clothes for the entire year. This is huge. I'm big on retail therapy and while I've always done it frugally, even that is too much at this current time in our lives. And more importantly, I don't need another damned article of clothing. I have purged my closet in a really satisfying way and I'm not looking back. There's a small caveat on this in that I obviously will have to purchase some clothes for the ever-growing Goose, but even that I'm going to try to limit. You should see his ridiculously full closet; it's embarrassing. I packed more for him over Christmas break than my mom ever owned for any of her children. Seriously. That's just gross.

The rest of my resolutions are either small (going to a class at the gym once a week) or private, but those two big ones up there are already making a huge difference in my life. I feel unencumbered in a way that I haven't thought possible for many years. Who know the abolition of computer and clothes should be so freeing? It's time I finally recognize those addictions for what they are. Now that I have, here's to a year better spent.

Things to do in DC

It is that time once again when the AWP (Associated Writers and Writing Programs) Conference is nearly upon us. This time, it will be in Washington, DC, a place I have never been but which I am looking forward to seeing largely because of Josh Lyman, Donna Moss, CJ Cregg, and Jed Bartlett. Here is a list of things I would like to do and see while in DC:

1. See the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial
2. Tour Mount Vernon
3. Do Georgetown
4. Visit John F. Kennedy's grave at Arlington National Cemetery
5. The Jefferson Memorial, the Lincoln Memorial, and the Washington Monument
6. See the Supreme Court
7. Visit the White House
8. See Capitol Hill
9.
10.

I am intentionally leaving 9 and 10 blank. Any suggestions of must-do, must-see things?

Trying to get to Ten in 2010

I set out to make a list of my top ten favorite events from my personal life in 2010, but as a testament to either my mood, or a less than stellar year, I can only come up with four. I aim to amend this list as my mood changes, but if it's been an uneventful year, there's not much I can do about that. Maybe that's the reality of having a young child. Life is full of everyday little things, but nothing significantly entertaining in a memorable, oh-let's-mark-that-date-down kind of way.

1. Atticus's First Birthday
2. Running my first 10k in October
3. Going to the Smokies with Natalie and Zach
4. The pool, the pool, the public pool all summer!

Oh, sad, sad list. How sad you are.

Jay-Z on Braggadacio and the Sonnet

This is too cool not to share and I want to encourage other people to pick this gorgeous book up. First of all, it's a beauty and will make all writers jealous. The narrative, or rather, apologia of the life of a hip-hop king, is juxtaposed with images, pull quotes, and codes for many of Jay-Z's songs, but not in a way that looks like a crappy coffee table book. This is the real thing. This is book as artifact. My hand to God.

From Jay-Z's new memoir, "Decoded":
"But even when a rapper is just rapping about how dope he is, there's something a little bit deeper going on. It's like a sonnet, believe it or not. Sonnets have a set structure, but also a limited subject matter: They are mostly about love. Taking on such a familiar subject and writing about it in a set structure forced sonnet writers to find every nook and cranny in the subject and challenged them to invent new language for saying old things. It's the same with braggadacio in rap. When we take the most familiar subject in the history of rap - why I'm dope - and frame it within the sixteen-bar structure of a rap verse, synced to the specific rhythm and feel of the track, more than anything it's a test of creativity and wit."

The Great Underselling of Selfishness

We've been sold a sale of goods on this whole being selfless thing. I know plenty of people (ahem, my mother) who will tell me and you that we're here to serve others, and there's truth to that. But I want to talk about another way of doing that.

This is what I have decided after 15+ months of surrendering myself to both my child's and my husband's needs. I am angry. I am lost. I am confused. I am in such sore need of creative expression that I am nearly an imploding star. It occurs to me that this is not perhaps the source of light and selfless giving that can be a real benefit to either my child or my husband.

There are creative/selfish pursuits that require such focus and expenditure of energy that combining them with a small child is absolutely impossible unless you make a conscious decision to be a selfish mother. I am by most accounts a traditional mother who devotes every waking second to her child and who would not even consider childcare. But it's time, after 15 months, after too much stifling, after coming so close to imploding all over my husband ... it's time. I hereby declare I am ready to become a selfish mother. Atticus, I hereby declare a loosening of the apron strings.

Here are stops on my unwalked avenue of selfishness:

Quilt-making
Writing (I know this should be number one, but it's not. Shut up.)
Taking and Editing Photos; Scrapbooking
Painting
Decorating
Clothes-making
Taking Walks
Picking up Pretty Leaves
Wandering Around Marshall's (without calling to check up on family even once)
Going to the Bar (after 9pm! Gasp!)
Making Lunch Plans
Buying Food No One Else in the House Will Eat
Cooking Food No One Else in the House Will Eat
Taking Long Baths
Wandering Around Hobby Lobby
Sitting At Panera (not to grade - that doesn't count)
Blogging
Learning a New Trade (Maybe Book Arts?)

Other Things

This list is sort of lame. I don't remember how to do this exactly. I think knowing how to pursue things that interest you is not at all like riding a bike. It's a muscle and mine has grown flabby with disuse. In the interest of using the phrase hereby declare far too often, I hereby declare it time to wear the selfish muscles out until they are so exhausted, so big, so absurdly muscular, they cannot help but lift husband and child up into the great swirling eddy of happy wife and motherdom. I hereby declare it.