The kids may be alright but the moms have issues. (But that's Hollywood.)

Last night, my partner and I watched the movie The Kids Are Alright. Parts of the movie were funny and resounded truly. We both enjoyed the Annette Benning character, Nic. We smiled at each other as she admonished her daughter on the importance of sending thank you note which you should never, she pointed out, start with an apology.

There was much to like about this movie. Successful, middle-aged, attractive lesbian moms who have two pretty normal teenage kids. True to life domestic scenes. Wine loving foodies. California sunshine. It was nice to see a movie about a family akin to mine (which lacks California sunshine, alas.)

My partner and I liked that the kids sought out their donor father. We recently came into contact with some of our kids' sperm donor half-siblings. We were curious how the contact would play out. We knew the movie had adultery between the donor, Paul, played by Mark Ruffalo, and the other mom, Jules, played by Julieanne Moore. We had an open mind.

We were bothered by how easily Jules betrayed her marriage and family with a man, who although nice looking, was a self-centered jerk. A male jerk. The movie spends lots of time on the hetero-sex and makes lesbo-sex look pretty lame and unable to happen unless the women look at gay male porn. This is all wrong in so many ways.

Why did Jules cheat? We were perplexed. It's not like this guy was a wonderful guy. She seemed a smart woman who would not want to risk her family's happiness. Jules is not the bread-winner. Perhaps she needed some diversion. Adultery is an interesting plot element. Perhaps that's it.

Why did Jules cheat with a man? Would I be as annoyed if she had an affair with the sperm donor's wife? Probably not. It would at least be an original idea. I guess mainstream movies are not ready to cope with dykes without dick. Gotta get the hetero-sex in. Gotta show it as more fun than lesbian sex. It's pitiful. Or is she a latent bi-sexual? Pitiful, but ok, it could happen.

Why did Jules have sex with her kids' sperm donor? This is somewhat understandable (if not plausible.) She says she sees her kids in his face and in certain gestures. She is intrigued and wants to know this previous unknown.

The other disturbing element is the son, Laser. What a stupid name. There's a whole segment about how the daughter is named after Joni Mitchell. How did the boy get such a stupid name?No tales there. Why is this all around athlete hanging around with a drug using loser? Are the boys gay? The moms think so but Laser says he's not, so the subject is dropped. Annoying.

Why can't the lesbians get it on? Oh, I forgot - lesbian bed death. Why do they need to watch gay male porn? Jules says it's because lesbian porn is between straight women and not real. I am puzzled. Gay male porn can be erotic as any other porn, but only that will do it? Really? Really? (Lesbian porno using real lesbians does exist.)

I guess it's too much to ask for the lesbian moms to like sex with each other, to respect each other enough not to cheat with the first sperm donor who drops into their lives and to not give their son a stupid name.

This movie had a lot of potential and we looked forward to watching it. It just left me, well, frustrated. I just wanted a normal, happily functioning family with lesbian parents. Silly me.

PS. I cheered when Nic told Paul to go make his own family and to leave her family alone. I did like that Jules asked for forgiveness. I liked also that forgiveness was granted as Nic placed her hand on Jules', after their son said they were too old to break up.

PSS one the best quotations ever Nic to Paul, "I need your advice (on parenting) like I need a dick up my butt."

PSSS why are their named quasi-masculine? Nic and Jules. Why not Laura and Jessica, Sophie and Gertrude, Beatrice and Brittany? Why couldn't they use feminine names????

Post Christmas snow

Post holiday no'easter brought a foot and a half of snow. Kids wanted to help shovel but mostly played and made a mess. We have a lot of property to shovel. I am spent. Luckily we were all off from school and work and didn't have to worry about that.

There should be a certain homeyness here but instead there is heightened claustrophobia. Fortunately, the kids discovered playing in snow is more fun with neighborhood kids than with just each other or with their moms.

I am amazed how physically exhausting so much physical work, shoveling, is. Still tired even after a nap.

It was 30 years ago today...

I was studying in a lounge in the college student center vaguely aware of the college radio station playing non-descript music in the back ground. Suddenly, the music ceased and I could hear breathing on the overhead speakers. I and another girl looked up. Everyone else continued working.

There was taping, followed by soft sobs from the speaker. A female voice said quietly, "He's been shot. John Lennon's been shot." She sniffled and then a more authoritative, young male voice took over and repeated that John Lennon had been shot outside his building in New York City. It just came over the wire.

A Beatles song quickly played. I don't recall which one. I couldn't study any more; I was stunned. It made no sense. People spoke to each other confirming what they had just heard. I remember thinking I needed to get home. I couldn't get up.

Sometime later, the male announcer said that John Lennon was dead. I felt weirdly numb in disbelief. I gathered my books, put them in my back pack and began my long walk home in the dark.

When I got home, my brother asked if I knew. I said I did. The radio would not stop playing Beatles and Lennon music. I couldn't stand it. I went to bed. My room was dark, cold and quiet.