Tag Archives: Barbie

The Barbie Lecture

Whee! I never thought I’d have the context to write about this, so thank you Mattel, Greta Gerwig and Margot Robbie!

All my girlfriends had Barbies. I had Raggedy Ann. I’d like to think that even then, pre-Gloria Steinem and Betty Friedan, Mom thought Barbie presented a skewed version of women in society. She did outfit me for feminine roles, with a metal kitchen set and an Easy-Bake Oven, neither of which were big hits the day after Christmas though I did develop a lifelong love of cooking. But not because I’m a woman.

In our small village, we lived for the summer with Dad leading all our dead-end street’s kids (girls, too, if Dad played, everyone got to play) played an evening touch football or softball game. At age eight, we moved the country and to swimming, berry-picking, weeding Mom’s garden, mowing instead of dolls. Winters, up north of course, were full of sledding, snowman-making and baking many cookies.

I went to a liberal arts college run by Franciscan friars. My first advisor was a large priest who wanted me to go along and get along, girls didn’t really belong there and were only there until they got married. When I chose sociology as my major, I asked the department chair to be my advisor, as he actually was interested in my gaining an education. It was this priest who gave the annual Barbie Lecture.

This lecture was the hot ticket of the semester and I got to hear it, once, in the late seventies. He began by stating that Barbie would be 7’11” tall in real life and gave her measurements in human terms. It was an excellent lecture by a Catholic priest on the role of women in society.

Another priest who I adored for his art history classes, opened my mind even more with Renaissance and Reformation, where he had several classes on the role of women (as Priests!) in the Catholic Church and how that role was designed then chipped away at by the powers that be over the centuries.

As to the Barbie Lecture, I don’t recall if Father C. ever mentioned the missing piece of anatomy on the Ken doll. No doubt members of today’s small but dedicated membership of the Toxic Masculinity Society would blame women for that, probably women from Mattel!

While I didn’t understand my lack of a Barbie doll as a child, I certainly do now. My life is better off having spent that time reading or doing other things than playing with dolls. Oh, btw, when my brother was a kid, a friend of his gave him a G.I. Joe for his birthday one year. As he opened it, Mom said “Look, a boy doll!” I don’t think he ever looked at it again.

Yes, I do believe that there are differences between men and women, that we are all equal and are here to use our strengths to help one another. Cheers! Yes, I’ll see the new movie, but probably wait for it to come out on tv. Dee

Barbie

I was never allowed to have one, and really I didn’t understand why my girlfriends liked them. Years later, my favorite college professor, Fr. Cap taught a class on, yes, Barbie. He pointed out her proportions if the doll was made into a woman, and making that the standard for male likes of a female figure.

The numbers were grotesque and unimaginable. Even Kate Moss wouldn’t have made the cut. The most enviable class in school showed us that women can be women.

Fr. C and I were friends for over 40 years, he was my advisor, before he died.

So I went and got a Barbie of my own, over 12 years ago. She was from a shelter and had worms and coccidia. A couple months after we got her at six weeks, already spayed (I draw the line at 8 weeks, not five) I had to make a decision to get her hips removed. She grew her own from cartilage, there were no hip replacements for small dogs back then.

She prides herself on beauty sleep of at least 20 hours per day, wouldn’t I love to look that good as she’s way older than me in people years.

She sits by my feet at all times and follows me everywhere,doing a serpentine in front of me when I’ve a load of laundry to fold. How could Barbie do that?

She’s a sweet, smart, intense, demanding herding dog who loves to sleep on our bed and pester us. Right now my husband is working elsewhere so she’s extra vigilant and is sleeping under my desk.

Mom is long gone but I have My Barbie, and she’s real. A rescue with no hips. It’s taken a lot of time and effort and training but she’s great with people (kids too) and other dogs, even some cats as she was trained by me and a cat. Don’t worry, we’re not looking for a doggie Ken. She was spayed at five weeks by the shelter.

Look for personality. Get your adoption dog or cat (yes, adopt) to a vet. Talk to your family. Then adopt. I say spend $100 then the rest on hip surgery!

Please adopt from your local shelter. You’ll find your own Barbie and Fr. C, God rest his soul, would appreciate that you love and care for that pet forever. We’re Franciscans, after all. Here in solitude with my girl Zoe, Dee

 

 

Baby Mouse, Barbie House

Yesterday I thought I saw a dead baby mouse after I picked up after our dog and properly disposed of her contribution. I kept Zoe away and the little thing raised its head.

When I was a little kid a mother mouse came in through the trunk of Mom’s car and had babies. My sister and I each took one and gave two to our neighbor boys. We were in the car at the store at the time so mama mouse never found her way back.

My sister’s died within the hour. They weren’t allowed inside so I made a nest in a coffee can and mine lasted 24 hours. The boys with the grassroots nature mom with seven dogs, many cats and a couple of horses saw them and immediately flushed them down the toilet. That was many years ago. I know if mama doesn’t come and pick up this stray newborn mouse tonight s/he is doomed.

My husband thought I was crazy but helped me anyway. I had an empty box of tissues ready for recycling and taped up one end. It’s getting colder here and I wanted the little one to be able to get in and out and be away from the wind.

I lined the bottom of the tissue box with a microcloth for warmth and when out there, filled a cap of a recycling Dr. Pepper bottle with some cream for sustenance. Now my father and in-laws are reading this. I did this for a purpose. Should I let this little one suffer? Others had seen the baby mouse but no-one helped it. I didn’t want human scent on it so my husband used a doggie poop bag to pick it up and place it in the temporary home.

The Pope is here. I missed his Congressional speech. I went to a Franciscan college and have even seen St. Francis’ robe in Siena but have yet to visit Assisi. For many years I’ve helped lost and surrendered animals. The baby mouse was just another endeavor, and all the four animals I adopted over 30 years were lost or surrendered to a shelter. All were spayed/neutered.

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Ah, the Barbie House. My husband and I met 14 years ago. He’ll be away on a new assignment on that day. He lost his job as 1/3 of the company was laid off in one day. Yes, they left “Layoffs” on a white board in the conference room that was easily found by staff and my husband was one of the last hired so first to be let go.

He left to cut the money bleed and came back to a new job two weeks later. A month later he accompanied me on a pet walk (consultant and local pet sitter) and I found him a place to live about 1,000 feet from me.

Tons of steps. One car garage and if we were going to be together he needed a washer and dryer in the garage. He bought used for about $250. The deal was, I would get rid of his clean pile/dirty pile system and do his laundry if I could do mine. Of course we married a year later and will celebrate an anniversary soon.

Steps. I don’t remember how many. At least 14 to the front door. Garage/laundry, 19 steps to Barbie kitchen/dining/living. Curved staircase to office, only bath and MBR. Probably another 19 steps. My arthritis kicked in around the wedding and the steps were killing me.

I tried to make a pact but it didn’t work. If there’s a pile at the top of the stairs, bring it down to the living area or garage, wherever you’re going. If there is folded laundry on the first step up to the sleeping/office area, please bring it up and I’ll put it away.

He now asks to help with dishes as I’m washing the last one, or cooking when everything is ready to plate. The Barbie House was our first home. We met some great people there. Enjoy your Friday, I think we may head out to see some Fall leaves, after I check the mouse house in the morning light. Dee

Barbie

I’m one wife who wanted a priest but was being married to a Christian from another denomination. We eloped, it was complicated.

Today I talked to my favorite priest in the world, Fr. C. He was my adviser in college and probably the reason I chose Sociology as my major. We’ve stayed in touch for over 30 years since my graduation.

I hope he left notes for his “Barbie” lecture as it is legendary. Something like Barbie is well over six feet tall, her measurements and how no woman can look like her but everyone tried to do so. As a young girl, my mother would not allow a Barbie in the house, and I didn’t know why until I wrote “Horses Sweat, Men Perspire and Women Glow” as my high school thesis about equality in sports.

Fr. C has been a Franciscan inspiration to me for many years. He inspired my creativity, smarts and kindness to others, including animals. Sorry Fr., birds flying around my head still freak me out as I was attacked by giant crows at age 12 coming home from the school bus. Perhaps falconry may be my penance.

Friends, family age and leave us. He wants me to come to lunch. It’s at least a thousand miles away but I may just do it. Cheers and thank your mentor today. Dee