Why Can't We Be Friends?

When my husband J. and I were dating, he had a great friendship with a single, female co-worker, a woman I liked very much and never thought of as threatening. I also had several good male friends at the time, and one of them routinely hung out with me to watch "Party of Five" or just gab over dinner. If J. thought that was a problem, he never said anything — and he isn't really the type to brood quietly. Come to think of it, we both still have pals of the opposite sex, and our basic attitude remains, "Whatever."

According to comedian Steve Harvey, now a relationship expert/correspondent for "Good Morning America," we are idiots. He is of the opinion that these "outside relationships" are nothing but trouble, and that men and women can't be friends. Period. Occasionally, I've worked with guys who've said that their wives/significant others would not be happy to see them having lunch or coffee (in broad daylight) with a female colleague, and that baffles me. I mean, I think my husband is sexy and fun to be with, but I don't assume that the other women in his life are all trying to get in his boxer briefs. Plus, I'd like to give him a little credit for having these things called boundaries and self-control (Unless the friend in question is Mila Kunis, in which case I've been warned that things could get murky.)

I've always thought that friendship is a form of attraction, and obviously, there are relationships between married people and their "friends" of the opposite sex that end up on a mattress (Hello, Gov. Sanford!). But that doesn't just happen out of the blue, either. Assuming that a) the spouse isn't a lying asshole; b) the marriage isn't already in trouble; c) s/he is conducting the friendship in a respectful, open way; and d) the parties involved aren't fooling themselves about their feelings, I can't buy Harvey's theory. I've known too many great guys to believe that they see women only as potential conquests. When I went through a crummy breakup in college, one of the first people I called was my childhood friend, B., who gave me the kind of no-bullshit analysis men are so good at ("Move on; he has.") We've been friends for more than 30 years and we adore each other's spouses — and we are so not interested in each other that way.

However, if you spot J. having a drink with Mila Kunis, a heads-up would be nice.

Seriously. Enough.

I realize that vampires had their fans long before "Twilight," and if I owned a store with any vampire-themed wares, I'd be promoting the heck out of them right now. I totally get it. OK?

But when I walked into Borders this weekend and saw a huge display dedicated to the Gen Y vampires of "Twilight," "Blue Bloods," etc., I was overcome with exhaustion. Maybe it's because, for the umpteenth time this year, the cover of my beloved Entertainment Weekly is devoted to some permutation of the "Twilight" saga — this time, the "New Moon" sequel. Or maybe it's because I can't walk through a checkout aisle without a publication telling me that Robert Pattinson (Edward) and Kristen Stewart (Bella) are in love/breaking up/just pals/totally doing it. And didn't I just see a commercial for the CW's new teen drama "The Vampire Diaries?"

Again, I understand that Stephanie Meyer is but one of several writers who happened to write a series of books about vampires. Hers is the biggest, and she's certainly doing her part to help keep food on booksellers' tables. (And to be fair, when the "Harry Potter" books were at their peak, bookstores were pimping every children's series that looked like JK Rowling might have had something to do with it). "New Moon" will probably be a huge hit this fall, and as I've admitted, I haven't exactly been immune to Pattinson's charms as Edward Cullen. HBO's "True Blood" seems like the kind of show I would love, and I'm looking forward to renting the DVDs and getting acclimated. But for the love of God. I feel we're at the beginning some cosmic shark-jumping moment that will end in a Disney vampire musical featuring songs by Demi Lovato.

I've Got Your Soul Mate

South Carolina Gov. Mark Sanford can't seem to stop talking about Argentina Maria's whip appeal, even though his wife and kids might not welcome the information. I particularly loved his assessment of the situation as a tragic love story, which is not surprising considering that he actually referenced "The Thornbirds" in his goopy mash notes. And how nice of him to say that he would try to fall back in love with his wife even though Maria is his "soul mate."

I'd like to suggest the following for Merriem-Webster:

soul⋅mate
   Pronunciation [sōl-māt]
–noun
1. a romantic partner, usually brand-new, who has not yet been seen in ratty sweats while folding laundry or making annoying throat-clearing noises.
2. an idealized person experienced only in candlelight, high thread-count sheets and swooning emails, far, far away from the daily drudgery of child-rearing and bill-paying.
3. a person who "gets" you, despite not having seen the real you — good, bad and really ugly.

I consider myself a romantic person, and I don't begrudge anyone the magical experience of falling in love. Marriage is hard, and not everybody needs to stay married. Shit happens. What I don't understand is why the governor seems so invested in defending his actions instead of repairing the damage he's done to his family or moving on with what's left of his dignity. If Sanford wants to get a divorce and split for bliss in Argentina, then he needs to do it like a man and accept the consequences — one of which is probably his kids thinking he's a self-absorbed asshat.

On the other hand, he has a real potential as a writer of romance novels.

Is The Recession Over?

I realize that it costs a lot of money to build a new house from the ground up. Land and materials are expensive. I don't expect builders to give it away.

But considering the fact(s) that:

a. We are in a recession,
b. Tallahassee has never been a hotbed of high-paying gigs, and
c. We are no longer in a seller's market ...

What is UP with this and this? And am I the only one who sees a problem with naming a house aimed at upper-income buyers "The Katrina Cottage?" Maybe I'm hating because I love this particular neighborhood and want to marry it, but this is just nuts.

Morons Are Ruining The Theater Experience

At some point during last night's viewing of "Dark Knight" at the IMAX, I decided that I am %$#@ing done with movie theaters, unless I absolutely, positively cannot wait for the DVD. I used to love the theater experience. Ever since my first life-changing, big-screen film ("Star Wars" in 1977), I have been an avid cinema lover. I still love movies. But I hate what stupid people have done to the communal experience of enjoying them.

I admit that I am easily distracted, so when someone comments incessantly during a film, it takes me out of the moment. It's the same with the glowing, blue screens of cell phones, even if they are silent. To go to a movie these days means dealing with this constantly, though the indie/Miracle 5 crowd tends to be much better behaved. I don't understand the point of paying upward of 8 bucks to have a conversation you could have had for free in your living room. Is it really necessary to text the equivalent of " 'Sup?" 10 times in the middle of a pivotal scene? Again, you're paying for this. This isn't a generational rant, because I enjoy a good text conversation. Just not while I'm at the movies.

But to me, the most egregious thing a moviegoer can do is to bring a small child to a thoroughly inappropriate film. At this point, everyone knows that "Dark Knight" features a brilliant and deeply disturbing portrayal of the Joker by Heath Ledger. People are shot at point-blank range, impaled with pencils, found dead in body bags. Oh, and we haven't even gotten to the part where Aaron Eckhart's Harvey Dent has half his face burned off. On what planet would it be OK to let your children, approximately ages 6 and 8, watch this - especially on a big-ass IMAX screen?

I tried to give the couple the benefit of the doubt. They were speaking a foreign language, so I thought it possible that they weren't as aware of the content as an American filmgoer might be. And then I decided that was ridiculous. This is a global blockbuster. And it's not like they left after the first, second or 14th act of violence on screen. At one point, the oldest girl was crying in her father's lap, her head buried in his shoulder. He was comforting her, but as I glared daggers at him, I longed to scream, "Why in the hell are you still here? Take this poor, frightened child home immediately!" Or as Christian Bale might say, "What don't you *%$&ing understand?!"

I was annoyed by the kids' high-pitched chatter, but it was almost impossible to enjoy the movie knowing that these girls were going to be exposed to so much scary stuff. And it's not like complaining to the manager would have helped, because small children are allowed to see a film like this as long as they're with a guardian.

The chattering, texting teens a couple of rows in front of us paled in comparison. But I kind of wanted to kill them, too.

Unless you have a high-tech home theater, I still think that nothing can replace the shared experience of seeing a great movie with others. And let's face it; some movies are made for talking back to the screen. But this kind of clueless, naked self-absorption has become noticeably worse in the last decade. I feel old saying that, but it's true. Just one more thing for the ailing movie theater industry to worry about.

Buzz Word Bull$%&^

Lately, I've been working on a list of useless buzz words and non-words that should be banned. The list so far:

1. Signage (as opposed to just "sign")
2. Usage (See above.)
3. Bandwidth (when used to describe how busy you are, as in, "I don't have enough bandwidth to handle that request right now."
4. Synergy
5. Dialogue as a verb
6. Utilize (I prefer "use.")
7. Impactful (not a word)
8. Stakeholder
9. Tasked (as in, "I am tasked with folding the laundry tonight.")

I'm sure there are many others. When someone uses two or more of these words in a sentence, I immediately assume that s/he is bullshitting me, or that s/he has been immersed in bureaucratic culture so long that s/he has forgotten how humans talk — or "dialogue." I judge them harshly. Apparently, it is no longer acceptable to say "I don't know," or to refrain from offering opinions on issues you haven't studied.

I was ranting to my friend H. about this when she handed me Diane Law's "A Dictionary of Bullshit." I can't stop reading it. It's meant to be funny (and it is), but it speaks to how prevalent these stupid words (and non-words) have become, and how the people who abuse them think doing so makes them sound smart.

Hint: It doesn't.

Barbie + Comics = Almost Perfect

Mattel's new line of DC-inspired Barbie dolls combines two of my favorite things: Comic book super-heroines and Barbie Millicent Rogers. When I saw the Black Canary doll in a Toys R Us recently, I had to admire it on the shelf and just walk away. I was shopping for the kids at the time, and $49 is a lot of money when you're paying preschool tuition, soccer fees, etc.

But what bummed me out more than my financial limitations was the realization that DC doesn't have any major African-American female characters. Vixen doesn't count. A fashion model who channels animal powers from a magic totem? Seriously? I tried to get into the current six-part "Return of the Lion" series and almost fell asleep. It's cool that DC tapped ex-cop Renee Montoya, a gay Latina, as The Question, but that isn't exactly a marquee character. Besides, she doesn't have a Barbie doll modeled after her!

While I stand by my opinion that Beyonce should not play Wonder Woman on the big screen, she made a good point about it being time for a major, nonwhite superheroine. I wish that Halle Berry had made a stronger impression as Storm, because she might have gotten more mileage out of the role.

Maybe I'll buy the Supergirl doll and put the outfit on one of my daughter's brown Barbies. They must have had some black and biracial people on Krypton.

What Is The Deal With Lois Lane?

I just finished reading the first volume of Grant Morrison's "All-Star Superman," which is both strange and engrossing. Suffice to say that the writer uses his trademark trippy flourishes to freshen up a story you think you already know.

However, there is one enduring, deeply annoying part of the Superman story that even Morrison can't seem to part with: Lois Lane as love interest. Because Lois is an investigative reporter and tough gal, I've tried hard to love her in all her incarnations. But her presence either fills me with boredom or leaves me wondering, for the 500th time, what the heck the Man of Steel sees in her. She is pushy, shameless and, as far as her reporting tactics go, somewhat unethical. I'm all for strong women and expose journalism, but Lois is usually portrayed as an unbelievably self-absorbed careerist who would do anything - however dumb or dangerous - for a scoop. It doesn't help that the last Superman movie asked us to buy Kate Bosworth as a Pulitzer prize winner and single mom.

Not that Superman is the most thrilling character in the D.C. universe. He is the resident Boy Scout, and as such, he lacks the psychological complexity of Batman, the combative, smart-ass edge of Green Arrow and the good/bad boy hotness of Nightwing. But he's still Superman, so shouldn't he have an extraordinary (if mortal) love interest? Batman may have sketchy taste, but at least the women in his life - Catwoman, Talia, etc. - are intriguing.

Many superheroes have had snooze-inducing mates (see: Trevor, Steve), but few of them seem to get the ongoing play that Lois has enjoyed. I've worked with enough obnoxious, elbows-out reporters to know that they are not endearing in real life.

Then again, they aren't using their writing skills to rail against fictional characters.

Stepping Down From The Ledge

I keep trying to write about the good comics I've read or my kids' lack of enthusiasm for whole wheat pancakes, but all I can think about is politics. And I don't want to.

While I think it's every citizen's responsibility to be informed, an election season can suck you into a bottomless pit of blogs, CNN updates and grassy knoll conspiracy theories. It's a slippery slope, so I've tried to stick to the basics. Last week, I decided to tune in to the highlights of the Republican National Convention. I knew I wasn't voting for McCain, but I wanted to be fair and at least hear what the GOP had to say.

Something weird happened to me after listening to Sarah Palin's speech. I've managed to keep it together pretty well the last couple of years, but the more I listened to Palin, the angrier I became. I can't remember the last time a political speech left me sitting on the edge of the couch, wondering where I could purchase a torch and a pitchfork. Attractive and personable, Palin unleashed the most cynical, low-rent stream of red-white-and-blue-coated crap I'd heard in ages. And I remember the Reagan years.

I'm not saying it wasn't an effective speech, and God knows many of the speakers at the DNC plucked my nerves by constantly playing the "Bush sucks" card. (We know, but he isn't running again.) And as much as I liked Obama's speech, he made me nervous by promising too much.

What made me angry about Palin's speech is that it pandered to the people who helped drag the level of political discourse in this country down to 3rd grade level in the first place: Attack the liberal media (check); attack "elitists," which, apparently, do not include GOP millionaires such as John and Cindy McCain or Mitt Romney (check); take cheap shots at the opponent instead of talking about your ideas (check).

As I predicted, certain members of the base are beside themselves with glee. Online comment boards are full of messages like, "U LIBERALS R RUNNING SCARED! Sarah Rulez and She is HOTT." and "Palin is a real patriot, unlike the radical Barack Hussein Obama, who wants to turn us all into members of al-Qaida!!!!"

I don't like being this mad, but I've had enough. I am tired of hearing about fetuses, patriotism, 9/11, "protecting marriage" and religion in government. I am tired of hearing people having to defend the teaching of science in public school classrooms. I am sick of hearing people who made horrible jokes about Chelsea Clinton — who was a child at the time — bemoan the "media hatchet job" on a grown woman who is running for vice president of the United States.

I grew up in a small town. I consider myself a Christian, and I am raising children in a "traditional" middle class, two-parent household. But nothing in Sarah Palin's shout-out to small-town folks and hockey moms resonated with me. If anything, it made me want to write Obama a check. A couple of checks.

Suddenly, Nov. 4 seems very far away.

Michael J. Fox Is Off Limits

In general, I think celebrities and public figures are fair game for skewering. But I'm going to make an exception for Michael J. Fox.

Maybe it's because he was my first serious celebrity crush and the person on the first poster I ever bought. Or maybe it's because his biography, "Lucky Man," convinced me that he is a genuinely good guy. He seems to be weathering Parkinson's Disease gracefully, and he's been a powerful advocate for stem-cell research. Some of my teen idols turned out to be freaks, but not Fox. And let's not forget that he is (I refuse to say was) a talented actor with excellent comic timing.

So last night my husband and I were watching "Family Guy," which is notorious for its brutal, pop culture-themed humor. Sometimes it's random and hilarious, like the time the show ripped on the seemingly endless theme song of '70s sitcom "Maude." Even the cheap shots (Corey Haim in a sewer) make me laugh sometimes. But when Peter Griffin joked about Fox being miscast as Zorro — and the next scene was of illegible scrawl where a Z should have been — I found my line in the sand.

I've seen "Team America" three times, so I'm not that easily offended. But the man has a disease. It's not like the show was cracking on Fox for making bad movies, falling down drunk out of a limo or screaming at his kid on voice mail. With so many perfectly healthy, deserving celebrities to make fun of, why pick on him? Plus, the bit wasn't even funny in an oh-no-they-didn't way.

When my husband and I were dating, he learned not to make jokes about Mr. Rogers in my presence — and Fred Rogers was alive and well at the time. I think we're pretty clear that Fox is off limits, too.

Is This A Joke?

Frozone? Pootie Tang? %#@ing Hong Kong Phooey?!

These are some of the names populating AOL's recent listing of the 25 Greatest Black Superheroes of All Time. The obvious choices are there (John Stewart/Green Lantern, Mr. Terrific, Storm), but no way does the Brown Hornet from "Fat Albert" belong alongside John Henry Steel. This list is suckage.

I know there aren't many well-known black superheroes in mainstream comics, but there is a serious failure of imagination here. For starters, the writer might have checked out the fantastic Museum of Black Superheroes, the most comprehensive listing I've encountered. I mean, I'm not that interested in Vixen, but she's surely more worthy than a canine kung-fu expert voiced by Scatman Crothers. Yet, she's nowhere on the list. Neither is Steel 2.0, or War Machine, or ... you see where I'm going with this.

AOL, you disappoint me.

Slamming the Suburbs

"I lower my head in astonishment and embarrassment for those of you who need gas guzzlers to make it from your stepford suburbs into town every day."

The above comment came from an annoyed Tallahassee.com poster who was defending recently-announced plans for condos along Gaines Street. In his/her defense, they were responding to an equally cranky post criticizing the project. But I am so tired of all suburb-dwellers being stereotyped as Hummer-driving evildoers who, when not cheating on their spouses or calling Rush Limbaugh, shoot endangered wildlife for fun. Frankly, I agreed with everything the poster said until s/he opened fire on everyone who lives outside of Capital Circle.

When we moved to Tallahassee eight years ago, the first places we looked for houses were in town. I fell in love with Lafayette Park, Betton Hills and Midtown, and I told our Realtor not to bother showing us anything in Killearn. Nothing against Killearn, but I didn't want the commute. This was right before housing prices went nuts, but we were new parents who didn't have tons of money to spend. So after ruling out flood zones, fixer-uppers, Killearn and in-town neighborhoods we couldn't afford (see: Lafayette Park, Myers and Betton Hills), we settled on Buck Lake. In other words, we didn't choose the 'burbs because we were desperate to get away from fast-and-furious urban Tallahassee. (Besides, according to my utilties bill, I'm a bonafide city dweller.)

When I was in my 20s, I lived in a series of old, funky apartments in urban neighborhoods. So my dream house isn't a huge, gated home in Golden Eagle; it's a Craftsman-style bungalow close to downtown. But even in this market, those kinds of homes — the ones that don't need any work — are expensive. I don't have the time or the funds for a major renovation project. I have even less patience with a certain kind of ZIP code snob who thinks no one outside of their neighborhood listens to NPR or buys fair-trade coffee.

A) I don't drive an SUV.
B) My "Stepford" neighborhood is pretty diverse.
C) I'm rooting for a more vibrant urban core. Maybe I'll even get to live in it.

Can't we all just get along?