Barbie Dolls Revisited...

My friend Sharkbait has a blog carnival called Rainy Monday, where we share an old hardly noticed post of our own, or someone else's (with their permission, of course..)

This is a post of mine from June, 2008.

Barbie Dolls

If any of you out there loved your Barbie doll more than any other toy, I apologize in advance. You are not going to like this post. I was looking at the videos in my video bar and came across the Barbie doll video, and I was reminded of my dad. When I was a little girl, more than 30 years ago, my dad forbade me to have a Barbie doll because she "looked like a prostitute". I didn't get that at all. There was bridal Barbie, career Barbie, I'm not sure if Malibu Barbie made it out yet, but you know what I mean. I didn't see the turning tricks Barbie anywhere, so I had no idea what he was talking about. As I grew up, I could only assume that he thought she developed an unattainable figure like that because she was up to no good.
Years later, after my dad had already changed his citizenship to Heavenian, I saw a special on 20/20 which traced the origin of the Barbie doll to a doll in Austria in the mid to late 1950's which was based on a cartoon in the newspaper. I know, when we think cartoon characters, we usually think Donald Duck, not Jessica Rabbit. Can you guess what her occupation was? I'll give you a hint: it was a very, very old one. My dad might have been familiar with Austrian pop culture of that time because in 1956 he fled Hungary during the Hungarian revolution.
So when he said she "looked like a prostitute", he wasn't talking about her figure, or the way she was dressed, or the way she was always all over Ken like a spill on my kitchen floor. No, he literally meant she looked like a prostitute character back in Austria. It's amazing how a person can misunderstand a person they are really close to just because they did not ask "what do you mean by that?" It's also amazing that a video of Barbie's dressed kind of provacatively (at least in the beginning part I watched) can remind me of my dad, especially since he changed his citizenship to Heavenian about 15 years ago.
Have a great day! I hope none of you Barbie fans hate me now. It really doesn't bother me that her twin sister was a bad girl. And I'm sure she was faithful to Ken always. Her and G.I. Joe were just friends...

In case any of you are wondering, I am fully healed from not growing up with Barbie dolls. A year ago a friend of mine sent me a sweet little Barbie who happens to have a pet bunny. (If I neglected to say thank you, Katdish, may I say now, thank you? Thank you.)

FOLLOW THAT CAR!!

Okay. My favorite part of this clip, indeed, the whole movie, is :

Truck Driver: [shouts] Ya dumb broad!

Driving instructor: All right, Stephanie, gently extend your arm. Extend your middle finger. Very good. Well done.

While Looking at the Lippa Tree ...

My friend ♥Kathy participates in Writer's Workshop most every week.

This weeks prompts:


1.) Participate in the Bedtime Theater Contest and write a story for Iggy’s Great Adventure for a chance to win $2500.

2.) Write a letter to a reality star of your choice.

3.) What does that tell you about your father? List five products your father used (or uses). Write a longer piece about, at least, one of them.

4.) What might come from the mouths of babes? Write a humorous piece of fiction where a baby’s first word is a little surprising.

5.) Where was the recipe? Tell the story of a mistake made in the kitchen.

I have chosen number 3.

1) Brylcreem Hair Cream

2) Old Spice Cologne

3) Muriel Air tip Cigars

4) Janitor in a Drum (for cleaning the floor and stuff)

5) Maxwell House Instant Coffee

My beloved daddy smoked for many years. When he was a young man, he smoked cigarettes. He gave them up for a while when I was born. But then several friends had babies... Yep. He smoked those cigars, and for about 18 years after, he was a cigar smoker. His choice was a brand called Muriel Air tips. The tip at the end was supposed to be like a filter, lessening the odds that he'd get cancer.

However, in Hungary he worked in the mines. Here in America, he worked as a machinist for many years with steal. Perhaps if it was ONLY the cigars, and ONLY the ones with air tips, I'd have my daddy here with me today and we'd be mourning the loss of momma together. I am sure her earthly suffering would have been less if he was here...

My Daddy quit smoking two years before he died, when he found it too difficult to both smoke and breathe.

One day about a year before he died my Daddy told me he was proud of me. I was a bit startled. I knew he was proud of me, don't get me wrong, but he didn't say it very often. I can remember him saying it maybe three times before. (Don't feel bad for me. I could see in the way he looked at me he was proud of me. I could hear it when he introduced me to a friend or coworker. I knew.)

We were in the car at the time. He was still trying to teach me how to drive. (Poor man went from the darkest black hair to grey one morning in about half an hour when I was about sixteen and he was trying to teach me to drive. He immediately said I'd have to wait, and wait we did for about five years...) We had parked the car in the Forest Preserve parking lot, and were looking at a lippa tree. He mentioned how they made tea from those flowers back in the "Old Country" and that he always wondered if that was where Lipton Tea got its name. (I don't think so. They use orange pekoe, but I didn't interrupt.)

Then out of the blue he told me he was proud of me. I had no clue how he got from lippa tea to me and my awesomeness... He said he was thinking about how he tore up his knee as a teen because he was trying to light a cigarette while he was riding his bicycle.

I laughed because I tore up my knees in many places without ever trying to light a cigarette.

He smiled and said his point wasn't coordination, but that in spite of the fact that I had so admired him (he knew that I thought of him as second only to God...), I never took up smoking. He was proud of me because even though I tried to do what I thought he'd want or do, I knew where to draw the line.

I confessed to him quite embarrassed that I did try a cigarette once, in order to impress a guy. I didn't like the cigarette, so I never had another. I apologized for disappointing him.

He laughed, and asked me why I thought he tried his first cigarette. He added that he didn't like the first one either, but made a choice that affected his whole life time (I for one had no idea that next year he'd be gone. I have no clue what he knew.) for foolish reasons. He was still proud of me for not being a follower in that respect.

What did this teach me about my dad? It took humility for him to have this conversation with me. My dad was all about showing his strength, never his weakness. He had this conversation with me, I think, to give me permission to do what I thought was best for me, and not try to follow him or anyone else. I think he was telling me he had confidence in me to make good choices. He loved me enough to step down from being my hero, and tell me he thought I had good judgement.

Paradoxically, I see him as all the greater for that.

Knockoff Marshmallow Bunny Peeps: Is the Savings REALLY Worth It?

Warning!!! The following may not be appropriate for younger and more sensitive internet users!!!!

Appropriate Marshmallow Bunny Peeps to pass out to fourth grade Religion class...

Inappropriate bunny peeps to pass out to fourth grade Religion Class...

Why inappropriate? Take a look at just one....
See?

IT'S A BOY!!!

I went to K-Mart with a friend on Friday. I had already bought half price candy for my class at Walgreens and Osco, and didn't get marshmallow peeps because I don't like them. But my friend Eve does, and she talked me into it on Friday. So I grabbed four packages so each kid could have two, and we got in line. (She got pens, and I was also getting the most adorable yellow place mats that look like doilies, but are actually plastic...) It was when she was in line before me that I noticed ONE package of peeps that looked inappropriate. I asked her if she saw what I saw. I reminded her they are in fourth grade (she is a teacher, too). She said "Yep. Better exchange them!" Since I didn't want Peeps with peni, I decided to go run and find a new package. (I know... TWSS) I glanced at the other boxes before going, but they looked okay at the time.

I kept a line of people waiting while I selected an appropriate package. There were lots of inappropriate bunnies... I felt so lucky to have only picked one pack of bad bunnies...

In the car, I joked with Eve that I should have bought that pack as well so that I could have written a blog post about it. She rolled her eyes. She does NOT read my blog... And yes, we are still friends...

Anyways, the next day, I am ready to pack them in my case and take them with me when I find that they suddenly developed! Okay. They were probably like that when I bought them, and I didn't notice it...

Leave it to me to buy p*rn*grafic bunny beeps for a Religious Education class with nine year olds!

Join my friends in the Life is Funny blog carnival. P*rn*grafic peeps not required.

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