My issue – with American parents
Spring is here. As is Prom season [two seasons that mean nothing to one from the part of the world you and I are]. The days would be longer. The weather more unpredictable – as opposed to it’s cold and windy predictable-self. And you’d be seeing more of two kinds of customers at your local thrift store. The first are environmentally responsible female-heads of houses parking their eco-friendly vehicles by the drop-off section of either Goodwill or Salvation Army to dump the fruits of their spring-clearing for which they may or may not seek tax-credits. The second are a gang of teenage-girls, to whom neither the outside world nor the other customers exist, screaming the roof down in their quest for cheap formal dresses that could both transform them into beautiful swans and don’t cost an arm and a leg.
That, atleast, is my impression from the various movies I watched on proms. Proms are times in which boy buys a suit, girl buys a dress and says “I will” [go to the prom with him, hold hands all night and dance]. I said, “I will”, mind you. Not “I do”. They don’t say I do even when slight variations to the program occur: girl gets handed down a crown iYaya wore on her prom, or wedding, before the Germans [or the Turks, or whoever had it for that part of the world; somebody always seems to] invaded the part of Eastern Europe young beautiful iYaya lived with her soon-to-be-extinct family; when the brother, or ex-teacher, of one of the groupies goes around dropping bodies like flies or when Bart ends up getting a room! However, the world [seems to] have come a long way from those more innocent days in which proms are about a boy holding his arm out for a girl whose hair he used to pull in 3rd grade; and her taking it – flushed in her night-gown and looking breath-taking in the pink-youthfulness of inexperience.
Proms are a much bigger deal, not so innocent – or affordable for that matter, nowadays. Here is an International Business Times piece on Promposing, as well as a CNN article on The damaging messages of proms. Remember [!!] [and never forget!!] all this expense is incurred to make the next kid feel bad. And that it’s coming out of mom and dad’s pockets [the same Mom and Dad who, at worst, finance music videos for the kinds of Rebecca Black; and, at best, post pictures of their kids on facebook asking for 1,000 likes so those children can have a life-threatening bit surgically removed from their bodies]. And that, mon ami-es, is really what I hold against American parents: That here I am/was/will be, working my tail off – rising early in the morning and staying late at night; in my attempt to make ends meet, walking home carrying grocery bags full to the brim; while their [unemployed] kids drive by in flashy cars, wearing labels I get to only scan through [before being chased out of the store by the price tag] on Black Friday. And tapping at gadgets that make my 5 year old Toshiba Satellite laptop look like it belonged to someone in the Flinstones’ family. [Speaking of families, I wonder if a person is allowed to put herself up for an adoption; and what the age limit is].
Entry filed under: Latest Posts.