IN DEFENSE OF AMERICAN YOUTH

To NFO and those who agree with his recent post:

I realize you're reprinting what someone else said, but because you and a number of other people seem to be in agreement that this post is excellent, I feel I must say something about it. My daughter is a 25-year-old graduate student. Although she's not part of occupy Wall Street, she does attend the University of California at Berkeley.

I don't care for the generalization and the implication that "America's youth" does not care about or support the military. My child is the granddaughter of a veteran of World War II, the granddaughter of a veteran from the time of the Korean Conflict, the niece of a Gulf War veteran, and the daughter of a veteran. If any child was brought up to appreciate the military, she was.

I am particularly offended by the following statement: "The 99 percent demands that the government pay back their student loans, often for expensive degrees in academic fields not adequate to compete in today’s tough employment market."

When my daughter was an undergraduate student, she worked as a server in a Chinese restaurant, tutored students, and worked as a mentor for math classes. She has paid for her entire education on her own. She did not even accept my offer of money to pay for her textbooks each semester. Yes, she has student loans, but she knows she'll be paying them back. She certainly does not have a $300 phone. She now gets by on fellowships, and by teaching and tutoring.

The protests on the Berkeley campus frighten my daughter; however, she is not afraid of the protesters. She is afraid of the police, who injured a 70-year-old Pulitzer Prize winning poet, among other innocent people. She stays away from the part of campus where the protesters are to make sure she isn't pepper sprayed or beaten, although she has done nothing wrong and the protesters are peaceful.

As for her expensive degrees that supposedly might leave her unable to compete in the job market, as an undergraduate she majored in mathematics and physics. She graduated first in her class. Her closest friends majored in chemistry, biology, pre-med . . . all fields in which American students have trouble competing with their counterparts from European and Asian countries. After going to class and working at one or two jobs, she stayed up until 2 a.m. to study -- every night -- and graduated with the highest grade point average in her class.

Although she attended a small Midwestern liberal arts school, she was accepted to the Ph.D. program in mathematics at Berkeley. She deferred for a year to get the equivalent of a master's degree in mathematics from Cambridge University. Now in her third year at Berkeley, she works nearly non-stop to be at the top of her field. She rarely takes a day off. She visited me for three days last spring and worked on her mathematics at least part of every day during her visit.

Do you really think that you'll be flying new and improved jets without students such as my daughter? Or do you prefer that the improvements to technology in America come from other countries? We need mathematicians, physicists, chemists, engineers, computer scientists; and she and her friends are receiving excellent educations in these fields.

The writer of your post uses "let's feel sorry for the military" logic to attack the so-called 99%. Well, my daughter and her friends are not part of the 99%, and they are not part of the 1% in the military. Does this make them non-existent?

I don't want to see the military's budget cut, but if it is, it is not the fault of the students who are working so hard to get an education so they can be America's future.

I will not sit back and allow anyone to portray my daughter and the students with whom she works as free-loaders receiving useless educations.

Infinities of love to my daughter and so many other excellent students,

Lola


P.S. And on a lighter note, I want to recommend a blog I should have told you about sooner: Paige Kellerman -- There's More Where That Came From.
 Paige is so funny I almost hate her. Nobody should ever be funnier than I am, but she does it consistently (I'm a little competitive). Paige is merely funny some weeks and other weeks she's almost pee my pants funny, my stomach hurts funny, and I'm afraid I'll fart and blush in the presence of my gentleman friend funny.

THERE'S A LOT I DON'T KNOW

Gentle Readers,

Favorite Young Man was but a babe in arms, undergoing the inspection of two older women. They admired his tiny blue terry cloth shorts and top.

The shorts are getting too small, I said. He won't be able to wear them much longer.

They felt the waist band of the shorts and replied, Why, all you have to do is take out the elastic and blahblahblah make them bigger.

I don't know how, I said.

YOU DON'T KNOW HOW? they screeched.

No, I don't know how. I don't know how to sew.

I thought they were going to have heart attacks and die on the spot and rather than be responsible for calling the paramedics and have to clean up the damn mess because most people barf when they have heart attacks so I bade them a fond farewell and prayed to God I would never have to look at their stupid faces or hear their screechy voices again  for them to be healthy, wealthy, and wise.

Yes, there's a lot I don't know. It's really easy to say that something is easy when you already know how to do it. But what's easy for me, like writing a blog post or creating a Web site, maybe somebody else wouldn't think it's so easy.

My skills are pretty limited, and I blame it on my mother, as we all must blame our mothers for something that's wrong with us, but don't go getting any ideas Favorite Young Man and Someone I Love.

Mother made my older sisters cook and clean, but in general, as the youngest, I was not allowed to do anything. I would not do it right.


I did not glory in my place of honor as Mother's baby who did not have to do the work. I knew my sisters hated me for it. I actually tried to step in and help at times. Once when I was home alone, I --GASP! -- washed the dishes. Mother yelled at me for not getting all the dish soap out of the cups and I was told to never do it again.

If I tried to wipe off the kitchen counter, I got it too wet -- as if it would never dry. I was not allowed to add an ornament to the Christmas tree because I would not do it right. I couldn't even put on a single fucking strand of fucking tinsel.

So, here I sit at my computer. I don't know how to sew. I don't know how to can corn. I don't know how to do this, that, and the other thing because Mother wouldn't let me and I'm still afraid I won't do it right.

BUT . . .

You want your Chaucer read in Middle English?  I'm your woman.

You need some great quotations from poetry or Shakespeare or want an original poem for a special occasion? I'm your woman.

You need a 14-inch article? Give me the facts and in 20 minutes it's yours and will require little to no editing.

You need a wound cleaned and bandaged? I can do it as well as any doctor and I won't get grossed out and barf.

I have my talents. They just don't involve sewing machines or putting food in jars. It's not a problem. There are people you can pay to alter clothes. It's their job. And -- I know this one is hard to believe but I swear to GOD it's true -- you can buy food already in jars at a store that's meant especially for selling food in jars and cans.

I think Mother was proud of me for a couple of reasons when I was young: She loved it that I was very thin --didn't know I was anorexically thin -- and people quite often commented on how cute I was. Mother would whisper to me with delight about how someone behind her had been whispering about me, Oh she always looks so cute.

And if Mother were here today, I don't think it would bother her that I can't sew or can food or do a lot of the things she did. She would be thrilled that I finished college and that my writing has been published in magazines and newspapers. She would show strangers on the street my byline.

She would go on and on about how hard working and good looking Favorite Young Man is and what a cutie Little Chick is and how sweet LL, RL, AR, and NL are and how talented and beautiful Someone I Love Is and oi! she would love Brilliant Buff British Boyfriend.

And she would still think I'm cute, especially since Sam cut my hair in a wedge recently and it's absolutely the most adorable hair cut I've ever had.

Yes, there's a lot I don't know.

But I managed to jump in and learn how to do a few things and then teach my children how to do those things and then they learned even more on their own.

Best of all, I know how to love, and I love God, my children, my friends, and my dogs. And I know that the more I love, the more love there is. The supply of love is never depleted because you've shared it. Love expands constantly. It's a law of physics.

That's why I have . . .

Infinities of love,

Lola