Emotions with Dad

Let me just preface this by saying my dad is a very kind person who is not, though this post might lead you to believe otherwise, a robot leading a man’s life.

That being said, he’s not exactly what I would call “emotional.”

My dad’s outlook on life and the role our feelings play in it is a little…dry.  One of my favorite moments at our dinner table was when my little brother was complaining about the crushing pressures of school work combined with chores around the house. My dad responded with,

“Well son, life’s tough. And then you die.”

I think Hallmark just found a new card don’t you?

My dad also has a unique approach to movies. Mark Drew’s criteria for a well-made film:

•           An ample number of explosions/guns/other harm-inducing weapons
•           Suspense of some kind (otherwise, he will be sleep in 15 minutes)
•          No animation whatsoever
•           Romance not needed, but it can be present if it all works out in the end
•           Which leads us to our final point, NOTHING SAD CAN HAPPEN.

My dad does not want to have his heartstrings pulled upon or even lightly tapped.  This isn't because sad movies truly move him, it's because he finds it unnecessary.   Who would pay money to watch something that makes them sad? That's just bananas.

 For example, my parents went to see Silver Linings Playbook, which most people agreed was one of the best movies this year. My dad’s review?

“Oh gosh, I hated it. It was depressing.  Everyone was unhappy. Why would I want to go watch a bunch of unhappy people for an hour and a half?”

“But Dad,” I said, tearing up just thinking about the movie, “it was a beautiful expression of the defiantly optimistic human condition reflected against the trials of mental illness.”

...Okay fine, I don’t talk like that in real life. My real response was something more like “But dad, it was so good! And the acting was really good too! And, I mean, everyone thinks it’s good. Like everyone.”

Ah, such eloquence.

Here are some imagined, yet possible, reviews by my dad of other beloved movies:

The Notebook: "They ended up together and then they die. Why did I even watch that?"

Finding Nemo: "It was a cartoon about fish. I fell asleep in the credits."

Braveheart: "Pretty good except the main guy died in the end. I could have stopped watching it before that and liked it better."

Any of the Die Hard movies: "Great flick. I'd watch it again."

Shockingly enough, when it comes to interactions with real people my dad likes to keep it light and impersonal.

Last night at dinner he explained that “When someone asks you how you’re doing, that is not an invitation to tell them your life story.”

The conversation went on like this:

 “Why even ask then?”

“Because it’s polite.”

“Okay but what if someone isn’t fine? What if you ask how they’re doing and they have a malignant tumor? What are they supposed to say, ‘Everything’s great thanks for asking!”

“Why would you tell someone you have a malignant tumor?? That doesn't make any sense!”

My mother, as those who know her might have guessed, was taken aback by all of this. You see, when my mom asks someone how they’re doing, she hopes they share their life story. Whether it’s her sister or the cashier at the grocery store, there is nothing she’d rather do then talk with them for hours about the weird pain in their left leg or their high school volleyball coach who passed away last week (It’s a hard loss, but we all have to go through it).

“Honey,” she said, “you better tell your coworkers not to respond with actual answers then, because they probably have no idea what you think about this.”

My dad shook his head knowingly, “Don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson there.”

Though not at all plausible, I like to imagine my dad calling a firm wide meeting. He’d be at the front of a business-y business meeting room (you’ve seen the TV shows), with a power point presentation ready to go. With some handy-dandy internet magic, I have attached the imagined presentation here: 

Mark Drew's Business-y Business Presentation for Business People

(Excuse the clip art on the last slide, but I couldn't help myself. I'm an art enthusiast, what can I say?)

The truth is, my dad just sees emotional issues as a private affair. Against all odds, he still managed to raise a daughter who cries watching life alert commercials.  

To reiterate, my dad really is a nice person. And hey, if he ever asks you how you are, I encourage you to say whatever you like! In fact, here’s a challenge: the person who can give my dad the longest, saddest, most personal response to a “how are you?” gets a prize.

I can’t reveal what the prize is now, but it rhymes with schmuthing and looks like the words “no” and “thing” but just a little different!

p.s. About the guy in the banana costume, I know what you're thinking and yes, I did think about adding a picture of bananas in pajamas instead. In fact, here's a picture of that dashing duo now, just for good measure: 

Prepping for Abroad

If you are connected with me on any sort of social media, then you know that I am spending my next semester of college in Prague.

Some of you might be thinking: What about people that are just connected with you in real life? Are you addicted to your computer? Are you one of those people who has weird yellow-y, translucent skin because you've replaced your time in the sun with time in front of fluorescent screens?

For the record, I am currently less pale than usual (not dark enough to say tan), and come on- who has face-to-face conversations these days? What is this, 2009?

But I digress.  I am studying abroad in Europe this fall and I want to make sure that come August I am ready to completely immerse myself into the Czech culture. As soon as I step off the plane, I will shrug off any traces of my American identity and become a Bohemian-chameleon.  I've heard many a tale about “rude, loud, obnoxious Americans” who study abroad.  Well, those students clearly didn't prepare like me. Every bit of my persona, from my lack of eye contact to my dark, leathery clothes, will mark me as one of them. Or, as I will soon be saying, one of us.

Hahahahahaha, sorry, I just started laughing because the idea of that happening is just silly. I am a born and raised American. I’m from Alabama, no less.  Europeans will be able to spot me from a mile away.  I don’t have enough black in my wardrobe to last me more than a couple of days.  As for being loud, I’m pretty sure my whisper is the equivalent of a European stage voice (“Say it like your grandmother is in the back row!”).

My inability to transform into a Euro-chic version of myself does not mean I will stomp around in neon colored overalls demanding a cheeseburger and fries...at least not unless I’m really hungry. It's just that people keep giving me tips on how to blend in, and let’s be honest: that’s a battle I’m destined to lose. 

I’ve tried this kind of thing before.  When I’m at school, I study at this coffee shop, Camino's, which is very hipster and trendy.  It is a hot spot for twenty somethings who wear those sock-like hats which hang a little off of your head (picture at bottom). I  often felt the judgmental stares radiating off of my non-ironic t-shirts. Finally, I decided to take destiny in my own hands. I arrived wearing skinny jeans, a flannel shirt, converse shoes, and had replaced my backpack with a side satchel.  Everything was working perfectly until my Mumford and Sons ringtone started blasting.  This was a dead giveaway. We all know that true hipsters will have nothing to do with Mumford. Nothing says “try-hard” like a bunch of guys with banjos wearing suspenders (Hey Mumford and Sons, I know you read this blog, and I just wanted to say I think you’re super talented and will continue to be a fan…until the Lumineers come out with another album).

The moral of the story is this: Don’t try to hide who you are, unless you’re good at it.  

I have heard about some American students who, whence studying abroad, will tell people they are Canadian.  I am a little tempted to try this out, but then not so much because this is how I imagine that conversation: 

Dominik: Hallo. I am Czech. Vhere are you from?

Me: Oh hello there! I’m actually from Canada. Better than the States, eh?

Dominik: I do not know about that but you seem nice. You and I vill be friends.

Me: Actually, I lied. I am American. But now you know how you really feel about me.

Dominik: So you’re a liar? Ve cannot be friends.

Dominik walks away.

Me: So just because I’m American you think it’s ok to be rude! Real mature you litte European-

Bystander: Think about it.

Me: ....ooooh. 

Bystander: Yep.

Me: Hey, do you want to be friends?

Bystander: Are you kidding me? You’re an American.

Bystander walks away.

And that  is why I'm studying abroad with other Americans. They have to like me. That's how it works. 

I promise, I will be trying to prepare myself for my five months abroad. I am starting to take Czech lessons soon, or as I refer to it, The Language Without Vowels. Wish me luck! Or as they say in Czech- Krfpst nvlyf ris*.

<< anyone else notice how hipsters wear these hats year round?

*Not real Czech

** did you notice I used the word ‘whence’ in this post? Intellectual is my middle name. Just kidding, my middle name is actually English Major with a Superiority Complex. 

Local News Makeover

This summer, I am working part time as an intern at Starnes Publishing. Starnes Publishing produces five local newspapers (280 Living, The Homewood Star, Hoover Sun, Vestavia Voice, and Village Living) for the Birmingham area. 

As I’m only an intern, my job can consist of the more basic tasks such as copy editing or reformatting the upcoming Vestavia library events. But sometimes, I get to be the reporter (If I was a famous reporter my articles would have a spunky picture of me at the top with the tag line “She’s not afraid to go there”). My latest reporting assignment? I interviewed the owner of a new Italian restaurant in Hoover. Being on the field like that, with fancy camera and even fancier legal pad in tow…you just can’t put that kind of rush into words.

However, most people know nothing of the thrilling underbelly of the local news scene.  Sure, readers trust these newspapers to tell them about the high school girls’ soccer team winning state, but they don’t expect any shock value. This is ridiculous. Our publications may not report on world-wide affairs, but they do report on Birmingham suburbs.  Here’s some insider scoop for you: the streets of Birmingham suburbs are filthy…filthy with hard hitting news.

My internship has allowed me an in-depth look into the world of local news: there’s scandal, intrigue, and parenting advice.  Lucky for readers, I have some ideas of how to give them this same look into the real news of their neighborhood.

     1) Gossip Column: Naturally, this is at the top of my list.  Everyone knows that celebrity gossip can’t touch the scandalous lives of housewives.  Don’t believe me? Well my friends of The Real Housewives of New Jersey/Beverly Hills/New York, etc. beg to differ! A famous person might assault a paparrazi, O.D. on a drug you haven’t heard of, or marry someone half their age…but wouldn’t you rather read something like this?

Sources tell us that Gina Jones* was heard whispering (not so quietly) that the cookies Terri Henderson* brought to the PTA meeting were “definitely store-bought”, not homemade like Henderson claimed. Jones went on to say that she could “feel the processed food dye staining [her] teeth”; a close friend of Henderson’s commented that she would never lie about homemade desserts, adding “Gina's sweet and I've known her forever...but she shouldn't talk about Terri’s cooking when her pecan pie tasted like rubber cement.” The informant was made aware that her comment “rubber cement” makes no sense, but she neglected to revise her statement. Henderson could not be reached for comment (*Names have been changed for discretion). 

I don’t know about you, but People magazine seems incredibly boring all of a sudden.

     2) Political spotlights: This is technically already a feature in local news, but these reports only nibble at the personas of our local politicians. It’s time to take a bite out of community leaders and see what’s inside (Too far? I’m working on being “punchy” with my writing). Right now, we ask mayors and city council members questions like “What’s up with Mountain Brook’s new sidewalk plan?” and “What do you love most about Homewood?” Their answers are predictable and tell us nothing about their true personality as a local authority. “Well, I’d have to say that Homewood’s unique sense of community, blah, blah, blah, I'm not interesting, blah, blah, blah.” This is the kind of interview I’d like to see:

Village Living: Mayor Oden, tell us your stance on the campaign to invade Vestavia Hills.

Oden: Excuse me? Mountain Brook does not want to- I mean honestly, invade Vestavia, that’s just- why would- we couldn't- that’s ridiculous.

VL: You seem a little unsure of yourself.

Oden: What? No. No, I am sure. We would never, I repeat never, invade a neighboring community.

VL: So you’re stance is negative then?

Oden: …

VL: Mr. Mayor?

Oden: …

VL: Okay, I’m writing down that you are officially against all attempts to conquer Vestavia and claim it for the Villages of Mountain Brook.

Oden: I didn't say that.

VL: Now we’re talking.

You might be saying to yourself, “This is silly. Mountain Brook would never take over Vestavia. The suburbs of Birmingham aren’t in a constant, underground tug-of-war like battle for dominance.” …Or are they?

     3)Anti-Parenting Advice: Before my internship, I had no idea that parenting advice was a column included in local news publications.  I can’t say much about the merit of these articles as I am not a parent myself (take that teen pregnancy), but I have been a parentee. With this in my mind, my next idea would expand our audience out of the 35-75 year old female demographic by appealing to a younger set of readers.  For every parenting column, I propose there be an “Anti-Parenting” column to answer the needs of mischief-making adolescents.  Imagine articles such as “Blaming it on your Brother”, “Where to Hide your Alcohol: Better places than your closet” or “How to lie and not feel bad about it.” For this idea, I recruited local 16 year old, MK Turner, to give us a taste of what could be:

Cars: They Wreck Themselves

BY MK TURNER

Being 16 is hard enough, and then that wall had to come out of nowhere. Now you're sixteen and your car is totaled. 

We’ve all heard the stories, and for many of us, we are the story. Wrecking the car you’ve only been driving for 3 months totally sucks.  You don’t need a lecture from your parents to add to your misery. Just because they paid for the car, told you to drive the speed limit, and not to text and drive doesn’t mean they get to be all high and mighty.

My advice? Explain to them in a calm, mature way (You’re 16, not 6) how the car just like took control of itself. You didn’t wreck the car. The car wrecked the car. It’s just like your dad said, guns don’t kill people. People kill people. This is the same I think.

I can only assume there's a lot more of where that came from. 

These are just a handful of my ideas to bring the spark back to the local newspaper publications. For now, I’ll keep working at my intern post, doing my best to bring the real news to readers in suburban Birmingham.

Until next time,

Caroline “She’s not afraid to go there” Drew

(p.s. I am incredibly lucky to be working for Starnes Publishing and hopefully nothing in this post communicates otherwise!)