Showing posts with label boomers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label boomers. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Don't Take Your Daughters to Work Day

DON’T TAKE YOUR DAUGHTER TO WORK DAY,
Especially if You Work at WalMart
4/28/11




Today marks 19 years since the first “Take Our Daughters to Work Day.”

In the early ‘80’s the womens’ movement was around 10 years old and many former housewives had entered the workplace. The idea (dreamt up by Ms. Mag) was for moms to show their daughters that they were MORE than just ass-wiping Mom-slaves; that they were also respected members of the business community. At least that was the Kool Aid they were selling to little girls at the time. But in the real world, as well as in Hollywood where I worked, it was still a man’s world, despite the presence of a few extraordinary and lucky women. Back then, Tinseltown still looked like that movie “9 to 5.”

Is it still a man’s world? What has changed? The economy tanked so no one has a good job. They changed the name of the annual event to “Take Our Daughters and Sons to Work Day,” so it’s no longer a mother-daughter thing. Now its mission is diluted and vague. Now it’s just a workday like all other workdays except nothing gets done.

On the positive side, the best and brightest white women are now making 10 cents more than they made 9 years ago! That’s a big 80 cents to the man’s dollar.  And why am I not dancing a jig over that 10 cent gain? Well. How long should a woman wait for EQUAL FUCKING PAY, forgodsakes! That’s why I’m publishing the following rant from 2002. I’m sorry to say it’s still relevant.


DON’T TAKE YOUR DAUGHTERS TO WORK
Don’t Even Get Out Of Bed
By
Karyl Miller

It happens every April, just like death and taxes: Take Our Daughters to Work Day. As a writer on “The Mary Tyler Moore Show,” I was one of the new “career women,” writing about one of the new career women. While my mother's generation thought being a secretary was a stepping stone to marrying the boss, my generation thought being a secretary was a stepping stone to being the boss; Mary set that standard.


Right after my MTM experience, I won an Emmy for writing on Lily Tomlin’s special. More women won writing Emmys in 1974 than ever before in the history of the Television Academy. With such an auspicious start, could equality have been far behind? Apparently, yes. A recent report released by the Writer’s Guild of America revealed that over the past quarter of a century there have been minimal gains for women writers. The best year for women writers in Hollywood is still 1949 (when most were writing partners with their husbands)! Scary.

Today, a white woman in her peak earning years makes only 70 cents for every dollar earned by a man. I call these “gyno dollars.” So, why would a secretary take her daughter to work? To show her that despite the media spin that tells the girl she can be all she can be, and high faulting’ job titles like “Executive Assistant,” offices are still configured in the missionary position – you know – men on top, women on the bottom.

Maybe we should warn our daughters that someone is always trying to tell us we’ve come a long way, baby. The truth is the national Anti-Affirmative Action Movement is making opportunities for women disappear, and the media calls this “ending preferences.” Isn’t being a (white) man a preference?

Then there’s harassment. Even the word is STILL a mystery to men. Is the accent on the “ha,” or the “ass?” Ever since the Anita Hill Inquisition, we've known our men just don't get it. Now men think if they so much as hold the elevator for us, we'll sue their pants off.

Thirty years ago after feminist author Gloria Steinem remarked, “A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle,” millions of women got divorced and started careers where the sky was supposedly the limit. Could she have predicted that today an unmarried woman is five hundred times more likely to die in poverty than a married woman? So, despite our ambitions, maybe our mothers were right: the job of wife is still the best job most women can get. Even Steinem eventually got married.

So, this year on “Take Our Daughters to Work Day,” let's not show up for work at all! Let's not even get out of bed. Maybe it would benefit working women more if we just said no to the gyno dollars and let the whole damn office, movie studio, restaurant, store,
school, hospital or factory fall apart without us.

And after a day spent not taking our daughters to work, let’s get together on our porches and in our back yards and light up our barbecues and hibachis. Once those fires are crackling, let’s forget about making dinner for the family.

Instead, let's re-enact an indelible moment from feminist folklore: let's take off  our tops and toss our thick, petroleum-based, foam-filled push-up bras onto the flames! Let them snap, crackle, and pollute! Let a bonfire of the Wonderbras send out a toxic smoke signal that says, "We're raising a stink because we want the financial equality we were promised years ago and we want it today!"

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Kennedy Inauguration - 50 Years Today


John Kennedy Inaugural , 50 Years Today
by Karyl Miller
1.20.2011

50 years ago today John Kennedy was sworn in as our knight in shining armor. I was in high school, but I would have voted for him if I could have. For those of you not fortunate to have been there suffice to say, Kennedy was the white Obama. We Democrats just loved him. He was young, he was smart. He was a gorgeous man with a gorgeous family. He shared our values. We just loved him.

 50 years have gone by and I STILL can’t watch Kennedy videos without getting as lump in my throat. I remember watching Kennedy’s Inaugural speech – we were so thrilled. So much hope, so alive. And then, the opposite. I realize now I will never get over the loss of Kennedy. Every Kennedy image reminds me of what might have been and brings me back to that horrific day when we were hearing the impossible. “The president’s been shot.” I was thinking Not OUR president. They must mean some president from some backwards country where they’re always overthrowing each other. Not here. We don’t shoot presidents in America.


 I was a just-out-of-high-school showroom girl at a wholesale hat company in the legendary garment center in New York. The switchboard girl said “The president’s been shot.” I thought that maybe they meant our boss, Mr. Abramson, the president of the hat company - whom I hated, but not that much. Someone hated Mr. Abramson even more than I did? At least that’s what I told myself when they sent me to the bank to make the deposits.


 The garment center was jammed, as it always was back when we still manufactured clothing right there in NYC USA. This was the hub. The joint was jumping. Trucks were honking and double parking and backing in and out of driveways. People are always yelling at each other and flipping each other off. Sidewalks were teaming with Puerto Ricans navigating racks and racks of clothing between the salesmen, the masses,  the 6-foot models all painted up and scurrying to their next job.


1407 Broadway was the Mecca of it all. There was always a line up of chauffeured black Cadillac limousines circling the building waiting for their owners – the top designers who worked there. As I got closer I realized every chauffeur had his door open and a crowd gathered around, trying to hear the radio. If you accidentally made eye contact with a stranger, you exchanged worried looks. Everyone was wishing Please don’t let it be true. The people closest to the radios passed the info back to us. I heard what sounded like “presidente” in fifty different languages. Then I heard the word “morte,” which I guessed meant the news was very bad indeed.



My heart sank. I had to stop fooling myself about Mr. Abramson. I had to accept the fact that our beloved president John Kennedy was shot and killed. And just when things couldn’t get any worse, they got worse with more and more dying in Vietnam. Then they killed Martin and Bobby – Bam! Bam! Back to back in 60 days.  We boomers and beyond had the optimism beat out of us. That’s what happens when they take away your heroes. It's not just Kennedy I mourn today.

***

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Tony Curtis RIP

First Eddie Fisher and now Tony Curtis (AKA Bernie Schwartz)? Losing two of my childhood crushes, both nice Jewish boys in one week? Oy vey.
I got this at the premiere of The Robe in 1953 at the Egyptian Theater in Hollywood.  My uncle was a show biz insider, and I was one lucky little girl visiting from Milwaukee.  I collected a slew of autographs that night, but Curtis was one of the few that was legible.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Final PLAN B ... for now


Video: See Beany and her young stud muffin Jack skate.

Yes fiends, this is the last installment of PLAN B... for now!
What's going to happen with Beany and her young crush?
Well there's lot's more to that story!
But as of Friday I'm going to begin posting (on GoComics.com)  Beany's
PLAN B backstory because there are so many new PLAN B subscribers.
Let me know if you want off the Email list - no hard feelings.

Thank you for your many comments and Emails of encouragment. ( MORE)
Now - in answer to the questions Is Jack, Jack? And is Beany me?
Well, yes and no. Jack and I DID meet at a roller skating rink and yes,
that's us skating in the video. Another fiftish woman skater friend said
that "the spinning guy," kept watching me.  I happened to be wearing
a little plaid skating skirt. I later found out a "Catholic schoolgirl on skates,"
was Jack's greatest sexual fantasy. I decided he was too young, but still kept
watching him too, and eventually I got over it.
Stay tuned
Karyl