My friend Angie went to Whole Foods for the first time this weekend. Had I known beforehand, I would have warned her against going to Whole Foods on a weekend at all, let alone on the day before the Super Bowl. But I didn’t know, and her sister (who just adopted a baby from Ethiopia and brought me some kickass coffee in a delightfully mistranslated package!) wants to feed her kids organic foods, so off she went into the mouth of Hell. Which is located in Brentwood.
Whole Foods on a regular day is a bit much for me to handle, but on the day before Super Bowl, it’s got to be all rich people side eyes and elbows. If I’m going to go to an upscale grocery store, I prefer Trader Joe’s. It’s slightly more affordable, the people who work there are even nicer than the people who work at Whole Foods, and sometimes there are minorities in the store. I know exactly how that sounds, okay, but I’m from the city and places where I’m surrounded by nothing but white people freak me the fuck out. You should have seen me in Branson. I called my mom from the hotel and was like “Mom, there aren’t any black people anywhere!”
So Whole Foods is a little bit insane to me, but you know what’s really insane?
The Mickey Mouse Club.
Stephanie posted something about Tony Lucca being on The Voice. While I didn’t have cable growing up, I did have a subscription to BOP magazine (because I was going to marry Jonathan Brandis, obviously) and knew who was in MMC, as it was called, because acronyms were hipper in the ‘90s. I also knew about the history of the Mickey Mouse Club because Annette Funicello was once on Full House. So there. It’s possible to learn stuff from crap culture.
Anyway, when you think about it, the Mickey Mouse Club is an insane concept. It’s this nutso cult of hyper-ambitious drama club-loving children who treat it like they’re being drafted for the Olympic team. The Disney machine is a boot camp for fame, and even crazier than actual Fame, and I’m talking about the original version when Coco got videotaped in some pervert’s apartment and the future Dr. Rocket Romano was a gay kid with a Jewfro.
It doesn’t take a developmental psychologist to know that MMC-level expectations are going to fuck a kid up. Apparently it was almost impossibly hard to audition for MMC, let alone get in, and just think of what those parents were doing to drive their kids towards another mortgage payment. Normal thoughts don’t occur to stage parents. What if your kid experiences a delayed breakdown? What if they don’t make it? It’s a real crapshoot, because for every Justin Timberlake, there is a Britney Spears. For every Ryan Gosling, there is a Britney Spears in Crossroads. For every Keri Russell/Christina Aguilera/JC Chasez, there is a Matt Morris/Nikki DeLoach/Jennifer McGill (yes I looked it up on Wikipedia, what?).
Child stars in general are disturbing, and almost no show is safe. The Wonder Years – Wayne ended up being the CEO (or something) of some ultra-corrupt health insurance company in Virginia and Fred Savage is apparently a terrible tipper. Full House – DJ became a fundamentalist Christian who turns down work because it’s not a woman’s place to leave her family, Stephanie did meth, and one of the Olsens was apparently a party friend of Heath Ledger’s. Saved By the Bell – Screech. The only child stars I can really watch comfortably anymore are the kids in Boy Meets World. Even though I know Mr. Feeny was probably not giving advice behind the scenes.
Lastly, you know what’s insanest? This Komen/Planned Parenthood madness. Far be it from me to decry capitalism (as much as I dislike it sometimes, as an American citizen I am still a beneficiary), but if you’re going to assault the women of the world into feeling guilty for not buying your pink everything, could you at least admit to not really giving a shit about their health? Or at least to giving more of a shit about your antiquated, anti-female “values”? The Komen Foundation has the right to do whatever they want with their money, I just find it amazing that my traditional Catholic family was fine with me going to Planned Parenthood because they knew that it would help keep me healthy and un-pregnant, but a bunch of wealthy Texas Republicans can’t wrap their heads around the concept of poor people getting charitable breast cancer screenings (that and Pap Smears is all I ever got at Planned Parenthood, btw) with a tiny portion of what is essentially found money donated every year by one- and zero-breasted women who know that while there may never be a cure, it would be just great if someone could be diagnosed sooner and have a better shot at surviving.
I mean, what the fuck.