Here’s a New One: American Royalty Marries a Jew

When a friend suggested that I blog about Chelsea Clinton’s wedding to Marc Mezvinsky, I definitely considered it but wasn’t really sure what angle to take. Everyone and their mom had been speculating about this wedding and its celebration for weeks, yet all we seemed to know for sure was that the guests would be using rented porcelain porta-potties. And now, even though it’s after the fact, we don’t know a ton more about the event, although we do know that the food options included vegan and vegetarian and gluten-free choices-- the most thrilling and important details, of course.

So I got it into my head that I’d write about the wedding. As did everyone else who writes anything about current events, celebrity gossip or anything relating to the two. But what, really, could I comment on that would be unique and not yet over-written?

Discuss how Chelsea married a Jewish man, of course, this friend suggested. Not only that, but also how so many “famous” gentile women in America have chosen to marry Jewish in recent times.

Granted, this friend is a much better follower of Perez Hilton (www.perezhilton.com) and is much more up to date with her celebrity juice than I am, but I realized she was right. This has become a more common occurrence recently-- or at least a more media covered trend. She also referenced Ivanka Trump and Jared Kushner as another prime and relevant example.

This idea was still brewing in my head as I stumbled across a New York Times article this morning: Interfaith Marriages Stir Mixed Feelings by Joseph Berger. (See http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/04/us/04interfaith.html?_r=1&scp=3&sq=clinton&st=cse). First off, let it be known that this author references the same trend, especially by noting that Caroline Kennedy married Edwin A. Schlossberg, a Jew internationally recognized for design, writing and art. The point here? My friend clearly recognized a rage before the NY Times was able to write about it. Good work, RM!

What’s interesting about this article, though, is how it illustrates the important role of religion in this ex-Presidential daughter’s big day. Sure, many interfaith weddings incorporate traditions from both of the spouse’s faiths, but in this wedding the Jewish aspects were especially apparent. Not only were the two married under a chuppah, or marriage cannopy, but they also signed a Jewish marriage licsense, called a ketubah. In addition, the groom wore a Jewish prayer shawl, which, as the author noted, “even many Jewish grooms marrying Jewish brides do not wear.”

Why is all this important? Who’s going to care in a couple of years what Chelsea Clinton’s husband wore to their wedding? Don’t get me wrong, but I think if you were to ask Joan Rivers or anyone on the E! channel, it’s most important that Chelsea wore an elegant Vera Wang gown? I didn’t think that people usually commented on the groom’s attire because, let’s be honest, it’s not usually that unique or important. Unless he’s sporting his dog’s leash with his dog attached as he walks down the aisle. Then it’d be worth commenting on. And, believe me, it’s been done before.

What this article really proves, though, is that it’s become more acceptable on a societal level for both non-Jews (like Chelsea) to marry Jews, and, on the contrary, for Jews to marry outside of their faith. We see here that it has become more or less acceptable for Chelsea, a girl who is basically as close to American royalty as they come, to-- dare I say it-- marry a Jewish man. Perhaps years ago important political figures wouldn’t have wanted their daughter marrying someone whose grandmother probably stuffs everyone silly at the table with matzoh balls and kugel. However, it seems that our society has now transcended some boundaries somewhere along the way to make this happen.

Of course plenty of people (even many reading this) still find themselves opposed to this move on the part of Chelsea. Not only that, but countless people disapprove of a “nice Jewish boy” marrying a practicing Methodist.

But really, it’s interesting to take a step back and look at this situation critically from a distance. We’ve made huge steps in terms of acceptance and equality in this country. And, before you know it, maybe the White House will be serving corned beef sandwiches and kosher dill pickles for lunch. Really, you never know! After all, Michelle Obama’s cousin is Jewish, too... but that’s a whole other story.

For now, though, let’s recognize that this event in some ways marked a momentous occasion not only for the Clintons but for people of various non-Christian religions in America. Oh, yea, and that Chelsea’s wedding cost more than most of us make in the first decade of our working careers. But who’s keeping track, anyway?

Wait, What? Feeling Bad for Celebrities?

This past week I went on a date. A unique type of date, for that matter. A date with my boyfriend's mom. I'll call his mom C for the purposes of this post. The plan was to see the documentary Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work. C showed up at the theater a half hour before the movie was supposed to start so she could purchase our tickets. About twenty-six minutes before the previews were set to begin, she called me.

"The movie's sold out. We have to pick something else."

"Um, are you sure?" I asked.

"Yes, I just asked and they said there's not a seat left!"

"OK, but I'm not sure how that's possible," I began, the disappointment evident in my tone. "I mean, the movie came out almost a month ago, it's a WEDNESDAY NIGHT, why would it be so packed?"

I had waited for weeks to see this woman perform on the big screen, to gauge how much plastic surgery she had since the last time I watched her criticizing red carpet outfits on television.

"The theater where it's playing holds fourteen people," she replied, almost incredulously.

Fourteen people. Right. Because any public theater would have that few seats. But as we walked by that room on the way to another movie, I peered inside. Sure enough, there were only fourteen seats. Although I was so anxious to see the film that I was willing to sit on the floor, I knew that might not be the most appropriate suggestion for the occasion. Not everyone would like to listen to Rivers spewing obscenities with dropped popcorn embedded in their clothing. Perhaps I'm the only one.

After my disappointment, I was finally able to see the movie. Of course I had to wait three whole days until I was home in a different state and with my mom. The wait was painful but I survived.

When we arrived in the theater, I was shocked to see a completely different scene than I had expected: an extraordinarily large, completely empty theater! And as the opening scene flashed on screen, another unexpected scene: Rivers with no makeup on. None. Zilch. Nada. Not even a stroke of foundation. But, of course, we viewers didn't get to see her entire face as that could be too damaging to her image. We only caught pieces of it.

What's interesting, though, is that this one makeup-less scene seems to have foreshadowed what I was about to learn from the rest of the film. I know, I know, it seems silly that I would actually learn something from watching this vulgar creature's escapades from rural Wisconsin to fashionable neighborhoods in Los Angeles to her luxurious apartment in Manhattan.

But I did.

I realized that behind all that makeup lies an incredibly vulnerable woman. There hides an older lady who, even at seventy-five years of age, feels like she still has so much to accomplish in her life, that nothing in her career has been satisfactory enough to call it quits and retire like a normal person. She flaunts herself in the eye of the media, only to be judged, torn to shreds and judged again, just so that she will hopefully feel one day that she has accomplished something so large that she can finally consider herself a success.

I understand that it might seem strange that I'm siding with this successful woman who, as wealthy as she is, still chooses to present this unprotected side upon herself. But this movie made me consider anyone who's in the public eye.

Like just now, for example, I'll admit that I just clicked Perez Hilton's Twitter link to see what Lindsay Lohan's mugshot looks like. (I accidentally just typed "mugshit" and it seems like an appropriate Freudian slip here.) Not only is it pathetic that I'm looking at the mugshot of a girl who I don't even know, but what's worse is that she's having so many people look at it while she's also dealing with this situation on a personal level. People are judging her, they have since The Parent Trap, and they will for as long as she's exposed in the media. So for as much as she's messed up, and as many issues as she has, I almost feel a little sorry for her. What if my every move were scrutinized? What if I felt that I needed to have my life broadcasted throughout the world just to make myself feel successful? (OK, maybe in some twisted way I'm doing that now here...)

Anyway, I'm realizing that it's important to consider the flip side of fame: all of the negative ramifications that come along with it. Everyone has problems, but some of the biggest problems come to those like Joan or Lindsay who have decided to make their fame in front of anyone with a computer. It's times like these that I'm proud to be a nobody who's at home eating an ice cream pop in my pajamas.

XOXO,
R.

Sex Addiction: A Mental Health Issue or an Excuse to Cheat?

A few weeks ago I spent a couple days with close family friends. Over dinner one night, the conversation somehow drifted to sex addiction: Is it a real addiction? Is it as serious as, say, alcohol, drug or even gambling addictions? And does it really deserve a spot in the next edition of the DSM?

Unfortunately I can't report back that we came up with any conclusions. We left the table unclear as to whether Tiger Woods has a psychological problem or just a love of intimacy, whether Jesse James should seek medical help or if he really just wanted to explore his sexuality beyond his marriage.

That said, this concept has become prevalent in the media. It seems like every few weeks we hear of another unfaithful boyfriend or husband (yes, the news seems to focus more on the male cheaters.) Maybe Americans like this drama or take pleasure in the doom of celebrity marriages. Perhaps our own social lives are so boring that we find ourselves thirsty to know the gossip of even people we don't know personally. For some, other people's failures (specifically relating to infidelity in this instance) validate their own life choices.

What we don't hear about, though, is what actually "transforms" these cheating men into born-again innocent husbands. We know, for example that Tiger Woods was sent to sex addiction rehab in Alabama or Arkansas or one of those southern places where he wouldn't be able to sleep with anyone anyway because he's not their blood relative. But what really went on there? What was his treatment like and why is he suddenly on his road to recovery?

When I posed this question to one of my (male) roommates, he came up with a clever idea. Maybe, he explained, you go to the rehab, and they let you sleep with, say, ten different people on your first day there. Then you get to the second day and, WHAM, just like that, you're only allowed to sleep with nine different people that they find for you. The number really could keep gradually decreasing until you're healed of your endless sexual appetite!

I'll admit that I was laughing hysterically when he explained his idealistic views of rehab. However, I understand that this can be construed as highly offensive, especially for the people who battle what some consider a legitimate mental illness.

I think the real answer here is that it's important that we teach our kids to get on the right path from the start. It should be made explicitly clear that just like in sports or Monopoly cheating isn't allowed, it's not in the adult world by any means either. Grown ups don't lose TV or dessert privlidges when they cheat on their significant others, but there are consequences to this behavior, and dire ones for that matter.

We need to remember that kids are smarter than we think and capable of conceptualizing more difficult ideas than we realize. For that reason, if monogamy is taught early, maybe it won't be as much of an issue later on in life when they become the next American presidents. That was something that I briefly considered when I was teaching The Ten Commandments to a class of thirteen eight year olds this year. (Yes, I teach religious school each week and I happen to love it as a means to earn extra money!)

As I printed each commandment on the board for the children to copy, I got towards the end and stared in disbelief. Adultery. Adultery. ADULTERY. Why hadn't I thought about this earlier? How com I hadn't considered the fact that I'd have to explain this concept to a group of young kids right on the spot? I mean I know that I read their textbook pages for the first time the morning that they do, but really, how could I have been so idiotic?

Out of nowhere, it hit me: I knew how to explain it.

"What do you think it means when God said that you shall not commit adultery?" I asked.

One girl sheepishly raised her hand. I called on her and she explained that she was "pretty sure" that it meant that you "shouldn't act like an adult."

"Hmm...not quite, sweetie, but close" I responded. "Really, you guys, what it means is that if you are a girl, and you're married, you aren't allowed to have any other boyfriends besides your husband. And if you're a married boy, you aren't allowed to have any other girlfriends besides your wife."

Somehow, with that explanation they got it. Even when I asked them weeks later what adultery meant, they all precisely regurgitated my definition.

So if these kids can get it, why can't their role models? Why are the celebrities and athletes that they look up to given what I'd consider a "free pass," or the excuse that it's a mental illness? Clearly I don't have any answers and it's likely easier for kids to understand this idea conceptually rather than in practice later on in life.

When considering this regarding those men who cheat on their girlfriends and wives, I often flash back to what Rachel Green on Friends. "Once a cheater, always a cheater," she squawked in a bird-like voice.

Always definitively true? Maybe not. Worth considering when thinking about people who do it? Absolutely.



XOXO,
R.

Oh no on the Radio

I promise I'm not a creeper.

You see, I didn't even listen to the normal radio until a few months ago. I'd been driving a car with XM radio, until my sister totaled it, smashing the XM radio to pieces with the rest of the left side of the car. After that, I had to downgrade-- majorly downgrade-- to a car I could pay for myself, and obviously say goodbye to commercial-free, talk-free XM radio.

The return to normal radio was tricky at first. I didn't know what stations still existed, which new ones were good, etc. I was lost. There were two stations I remembered liking in high school, so I tried them out. Turns out, they were still the same.

After awhile, I started developing a routine-- one station for the morning show on my way to work, another in the afternoon on the way home. I figured out which stations I liked best at which times, but occasionally I'd switch back and forth during commercials or when that Michael Franti song, "Say Hey," came on. I have a violent reaction to that song. One day, on my second go-to station, I heard the deejay's voice and there was no going back.

It was right after the earthquake in Haiti, while the whole Conan/Leno debacle was going on. The deejay was taking calls from people who were at a rally outside of NBC, and he kept asking them if they'd ever protested or rallied for anything else. They kept saying no, and finally he said "You know, I don't mean to talk shit, but all of these people who are calling haven't ever been to a rally for a legitimate cause, and I just find that completely ridiculous."

From that moment on, I couldn't get enough. I started listening to his show every day after work, even though I liked the music on another station better. He was funny, he was interesting, he was honest, and his voice was cute. I decided I was going to Google him to see if he was attractive enough to truly be the man of my dreams.

He was.

Let me clarify. I'm not usually one of those crazy girls. Okay well maybe a little crazy, for altogether different reasons, but I'm not one to get gaga over celebrities. I mean I have celebrity crushes, but no more than the average person, and I don't make elaborate plans about how exactly I can best stalk someone in order to get a glimpse of them, meet them, make them fall in love with me, get married and have lots of beautiful babies.

Besides, he isn't even a celebrity. Sure, he may have 2,499 Facebook friends (not that I've checked), but how famous can a radio deejay be, unless they're Howard Stern or Rush Limbaugh? So is the fact that I have a major crush on this man, who I've never met, made more or less creepy by the fact that he's not a real celebrity?

I admit, it makes me feel a little dirty on the inside to have such a crush on someone I don't know. I've known those girls, and I don't want to be them. Like I'm kind of creeping myself out. I'm not about to go cook his pet bunny or anything (besides, he always talks about how he's single, so the whole homewrecking part of it isn't an issue), and it's not like I'm going to wait outside the station or find out where he lives, or even do anything besides listen to the radio show. But it isn't romantic like Sleepless in Seattle. They actually talked to each other. They didn't just sit there creepily without ever communicating.

Not to mention, that's a movie, and this is real life. So now I just have to figure out which makes me creepier: having a secret crush on someone who doesn't know I exist, or doing something about it.

Love,
S