I was planning on writing an entertaining yet profoundly wise post that would solve one of society’s most pressing problems (perhaps “Is Wearing White Before Labor Day Responsible for the Moral Decline of Our Nation?” or “Which Candidate Will Tap Suri Cruise for VP?”). However, after 2 trips to the vet, three visits to Pet Smart, and caring for the latest foster cat (a 4-week old kitten who apparently ran away from home to show his mother that she wasn’t the boss of him), I’m really, really tired.
So, let me just share one exciting discovery with you: after havinng exchanged the sordid world of NRO for the more womanly sphere of church, kitchen and children, Meghan Cox Gurdon has once again left the kids to fend for themselves and is writing weekly opinion columns for the SF Examiner.
Her most recent columns are about how liberals are really not our sort of people, and how Obama and Hillary Clinton are big poopie heads. Thus, we have to go back a few weeks to find out what we REALLY want to know: what happened to the kids? Let us now peruse Moving on schedule to minivan martyrdom to see what we can learn about what the adorable tikes have been up to since we saw them last.
Jump in, or we’ll be late!” Three girls fling in their school backpacks and we zoom off to another school. Two girls leap out, calling for their brother.
From this we can conclude that middle girls Jujube and Rhythm Method are still alive, attend some sort of school, and are searching for their sainted brother Apotheosis, who presumably doesn’t ride with the rest of the family, as he takes the Popemobile to school. The third girl is probably the eldest child, Mimosa, who wisely claims to be adopted.
The toddler, strapped in her car seat, keeps repeating “Whacka Bamba,” which is the hard-to-pronounce name of some fellow she keeps hearing about on the car radio.
Aw, little Turnip has learned to talk! And she has developed such a delightful lisp! (Wait for the copyright infringement suit by Gnat Lileks.) And note that Turnip’s childish prattle, like that of the other Gurdon children before her, is not just endearing, but also reveals deep truths about how the liberals are just not our sort of people, and how the Democrats are all poopie heads.
The rest of us return home, where a neighborhood girl is waiting to play.
That would be Jonah Goldberg, who is always hanging around the youngest Gurdon kids, trying to steal material for his next column. (It’s an open secret in conservative circles that 6-year-old Creme Brulee Gurdon is the uncredited ghost writer of Liberal Fascists.)
At hyper-speed, I saute vegetables, load a rice cooker, sear chicken and pop into the oven two unbaked loaves that I assembled in the morning,
Uh oh! Is Meghan trying to tell us that in the midst of preparing the children’s nutritious and wholesome gruel, she conceived twins???
conscious all the time of a dozen approaching deadlines.
Yeah, it’s tough being a conservative columnist mother these days with only one full-time foreign nanny to your name.
Anyway, as the piece continues, Meghan has to chauffeur little Paisley to her ballet class, so that the girl can learn such cherished conservative virtues as tutu fluffing, chain smoking, and masochism. Her older sister Grenada signs up for art class, heroin addiction, and a trendy form of bisexuality. Meghan then has to take Brother Apotheosis and sister Reagana to martial arts class, where the kids learn tai kwando, self discipline, and how to get assassination gigs via blind ads in Soldier of Fortune magazine. But by the time Meghan gets everyone home, she’s frazzled, the kids are in violation of child welfare laws, and Meghan’s loaves of bread are hard and stale (which presumably means that her newly conceived twins are going to be Fox News weather bimbos when they grow up).
So, having learning a valuable lesson about how busy Meghan is, how much she does for her children, and how her kids are way better than yours, let us bid a fond farewell to the Gurdons. Pleasant dreams, everyone!
Posted by s.z. on Tuesday, May 6th, 2008 at 3:56 am.25 Responses to “Old Friends”
Okay, I hate to take away from larger issues, such as “what sort of shenanigans are involved in someone hiring Meghan Cox Gurdon as a writer?” or “who is it imagines there’s an endless market for the sort of self-absorbed blatherings you can’t escape at a family gathering?”, and I’m not even going to mention that May 1 column where she asks why, if black people are flocking to Obama it isn’t the most natural thing in the world for white people to hope one of their own finally makes it to the Oval Office, except she frames it as the sort of question no obviously well-mannered white suburban columnist would dare ask, since, y’know, they all have the good sense to pretend not to be racist anymore. I’d just like to know how one “assembles” loaves of bread in the morning for baking in the evening, and who it is thinks a baguette should be soft. But I’m easily distracted.
I’m kind of wondering about assembling bread, myself.
OMG, i was driving through Arkansas last Thursday and saw a sign that read “Okolona Gurdon” and now there’s a post about them. who knew the ARDot was in the business of prescience?
good to see you back s.z.
good to see you back s.z.
Yay, S.Z.’s back! So’s AWM, but it’s hard to get excited about that.
I was not distracted by the bread-assembling and am still wondering, in the astute words of Mr Riley, “who is it imagines there’s an endless market for the sort of self-absorbed blatherings you can’t escape at a family gathering?”
Frankly, I get a dead poplar’s worth of these newsletters every year at Christmas, just exactly as though I cared. Hey, more-or-less in-laws! I’m not interested in marrying *into* your family–I just want to marry *out of* mine! Stop telling me about the cousins, okay?
Actually, I wonder if I could “borrow” some of AWM’s kids’ less racist adventures for next year. Maybe if I reciprocally bore them they’ll leave me alone….
I was not distracted by the bread-assembling and am still wondering, in the astute words of Mr Riley, “who is it imagines there’s an endless market for the sort of self-absorbed blatherings you can’t escape at a family gathering?”
Frankly, I get a dead poplar’s worth of these newsletters every year at Christmas, just exactly as though I cared. Hey, more-or-less in-laws! I’m not interested in marrying *into* your family–I just want to marry *out of* mine! Stop telling me about the cousins, okay?
Actually, I wonder if I could “borrow” some of AWM’s kids’ less racist adventures for next year. Maybe if I reciprocally bore them they’ll leave me alone….
Maybe if I reciprocally bore them they’ll leave me alone….
more likely to generate a negative feedback loop. you might try this trick, pick up on some insignificant point and question them endlessly for more details. i.e. really, your nephew met this nice girl? where did they meet? what did he first say to her? where did they go for their first date? what movie did they see? how much were the tickets? did they get popcorn? what kind of soda? small, medium, etc. did they stay through the credits? who was the grip?
more likely to generate a negative feedback loop. you might try this trick, pick up on some insignificant point and question them endlessly for more details. i.e. really, your nephew met this nice girl? where did they meet? what did he first say to her? where did they go for their first date? what movie did they see? how much were the tickets? did they get popcorn? what kind of soda? small, medium, etc. did they stay through the credits? who was the grip?
Welcome back, s.z., and don’t stay away so long!
(I say this with no disrespect to scott or maryc, both of whom do good work. It’s just, the more, the merrier. Except when it comes to Gurdlings.)
(I say this with no disrespect to scott or maryc, both of whom do good work. It’s just, the more, the merrier. Except when it comes to Gurdlings.)
Preznit, I love that. My strategy has always been to be as boring as possible to people I want to go away, but it occurs to me that with people who clearly don’t know what boring means I might be better off being annoying. So I’m going to adopt your strategy, and combine it with “Really? Dating? Without a chaperon? Don’t you worry they might get wrong with God?” They’re a largely atheist family. This could work.
Atheists, huh? That makes them sound not so boring, DS!
Ah, SZ! I second what Bill S said – having you back makes the world a little less…crappy!
Ah, SZ! I second what Bill S said – having you back makes the world a little less…crappy!
Welcome back, s.z., and don’t stay away so long!
(I say this with no disrespect to scott or maryc, both of whom do good work. It’s just, the more, the merrier. Except when it comes to Gurdlings.)
No offense taken, Bill! I third the hearty Welcome Back, Kotterto Sherry!
And what a fitting vehicle to skewer for your return–America’s Worst Mother!
Yay!
(I say this with no disrespect to scott or maryc, both of whom do good work. It’s just, the more, the merrier. Except when it comes to Gurdlings.)
No offense taken, Bill! I third the hearty Welcome Back, Kotterto Sherry!
And what a fitting vehicle to skewer for your return–America’s Worst Mother!
Yay!
“At hyper-speed, I saute vegetables, load a rice cooker, sear chicken and pop into the oven two unbaked loaves that I assembled in the morning, conscious all the time of a dozen approaching deadlines.”
She sautes vegetables before cooking the rice? What a shitty cook. It’s going to take around 45 minutes before the rice is done, plenty of time for the veggies to congeal into a cold gelatinous goo. And what’s with the bread? That stuff’s not going to be ready to eat until the morning.
I call bullshit. She doesn’t cook.
She sautes vegetables before cooking the rice? What a shitty cook. It’s going to take around 45 minutes before the rice is done, plenty of time for the veggies to congeal into a cold gelatinous goo. And what’s with the bread? That stuff’s not going to be ready to eat until the morning.
I call bullshit. She doesn’t cook.
Gurk! SZ, I was so glad to see you, I think I posted a blank comment.
Now you need to catch everyone up on the pit of beastliness that your home has become thanks to the greatness of your heart and the irresistibility of kittens, even those who don’t want their mothers to be the boss of them. (Or is that especially …).
Now you need to catch everyone up on the pit of beastliness that your home has become thanks to the greatness of your heart and the irresistibility of kittens, even those who don’t want their mothers to be the boss of them. (Or is that especially …).
The Significant Other is a baker, and has been for decades now: she has yet to see anything resembling bread needed a “Some Assembly Required” label.
An early start on Christmas baking, perhaps?
An early start on Christmas baking, perhaps?
TM, you’re apparently assuming she’s cooking brown rice, which properly belongs only within the bailiwick of hippie liberal vegans. White rice takes only 15 minutes. I don’t think bread takes that long to bake, either, but I’m assuming she’s not having it with dinner, because that would totally be overkill on the starches. Rice AND bread–uh-uh, as much as I love them both. It’s like when people eat bread with a pasta meal. Gosh, I am loopy from lack of sleep, which is why I’m dissecting this issue so intensely. Fun!
Oh, and by the way, isn’t AWM just awesomely efficient and responsible? She just does everything SO WELL; I don’t know how she does it!*
*I think this is the reaction Meghan was going for.
*I think this is the reaction Meghan was going for.
I just want to know who makes Uncle Ben’s Instant Rice in a rice cooker? My rice cooker takes at least thirty minutes to make jasmine rice properly sticky.
Burned out on demagoguery? Try some baby hedgehogs instead:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/news/news.html?in_article_id=564675&in_page_id=1770
Feel better now? Come on, admit it.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/pages/live/articles/news/news.html?in_article_id=564675&in_page_id=1770
Feel better now? Come on, admit it.
Umm, I can’t stop myself…about that wearing white thing: It’s not after Labor Day or before Easter, as far as I remember, but it’s never okay to wear a white hood. Even the guards at Abu Graib knew enough to dress their playmates in black. Cheers!
two unbaked loaves that I assembled in the morning
I think this is code for taking the frozen loafs purchased at the grocery store and let them defrost.
But, hey, they’ll be home-baked.
I think this is code for taking the frozen loafs purchased at the grocery store and let them defrost.
But, hey, they’ll be home-baked.
A column in the SF Examiner offers about the same potential readership as would running off a few hundred copies of one’s screed and tacking them up on power poles around the city. The SF Examiner has so little readership that they stopped bothering to pretend to sell it several years back and began giving it away like the Bay Guardian, SF Weekly, East Bay Express and the Nickel Ads; all of which probably enjoy larger circulation. I wonder if the Examiner even bothers to pay their columnists anymore.
No, it’s “don’t wear white SHOES before MEMORIAL Day” (or after Labor Day).
Heretic!
In no way would the immortal Judith Martin refer to herself in such terms!
I call Shenanigans!
In no way would the immortal Judith Martin refer to herself in such terms!
I call Shenanigans!
Late to the party, but here I am!
And here I was just thinking about how much I missed SZ and, lo, she appears! With a skewer of AWM!!
Hot damn, this is a good day.
And here I was just thinking about how much I missed SZ and, lo, she appears! With a skewer of AWM!!
Hot damn, this is a good day.
Wait — I thought Meghan quit her day job to home-school Asphasia, Hyperbole, Merlot and Nature Boy, no? When was that — a couple of years ago? And now they’re back in real schools and she’s back immortalising their twee ramblings in print? Does Tbogg know about this?
Then I’m clearly NOT Judith Martin.
I thought Meghan quit her day job to home-school Asphasia, Hyperbole, Merlot and Nature Boy, no? When was that — a couple of years ago?
It’s hard to home school when you don’t know shit. Plus, “get these fucking kids outta here, my stories are on!”
It’s hard to home school when you don’t know shit. Plus, “get these fucking kids outta here, my stories are on!”
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