Two Thumbs Down

Things have been heavy 'round these parts lately, so here's something to lighten the mood--from Margo, of course!

Dear Margo: I am a high-school senior. There's a girl named "May" who I thoroughly dislike, but she persists in trying to be my best friend. We became friends in freshman year because we were both hyper and our bus ride was long. She was, and is, cheerful, kind and friendly. However, over the past three years, I have realized that we have nothing in common anymore, if we ever did, and I am very tired of having things that are important to me shot down as stupid or boring. Sometimes I talk about things I find interesting, like current events or books — never with her, but in groups of which she is a part. If it has even a vague whiff of intellectual activity (except "Pride and Prejudice"), May shoots me down in the most contemptuous tone I have ever heard, saying, "That's boring. Let's talk about (pick one: her love life or movies, though, to give her some credit, more often movies)." I don't know what to say to someone who thinks that "The Time Traveler's Wife" was a brilliant movie. — Please Go Away, from Virginia

Dear Please: This sounds like one for my pal Roger Ebert, but the underlying problem is actually not about movies. The basis for your friendship — that you were both hyper and it was a long bus ride — does not sound like a rock-solid foundation for closeness. This girl may be cheerful, but she sounds neither kind nor friendly. If you have nothing in common anymore, just keep some distance between you and know that you have moved on. — Margo, developmentally

It doesn't sound like these girls have much in common--but if they liked and respected each other, that wouldn't matter os much--friendships and marriages have thrived between people with totally opposite interests, skills, beliefs, IQs, and political affiliations. Not that these girls need to be friends--like Margo says, it's find to just move on if you don't enjoy each other's company.

What seems to draw them together, though, is that neither of them sounds very confident or secure in just being who she is--the one needs to show off how smart she is, and how contemptuous she is of.....romantic dramas? The other focuses on her love life (and Eric Bana's). They're growing, learning, carving out space for themselves--and can't seem to help stabbing at each other with their chisels in the process. With any luck, they'll both grow out of it and into themselves.

Unlike Margo, who feels compelled to drop the name of her "pal" Roger Ebert, seemingly out of the blue. Why, Margo? Why?

Are you serious? (Because you should be)

Margo's got me scratching my head again...her perspective on online affairs seems to be straight from 1998:

Dear Margo: My wife and I regularly play an online video game. Since I work full time and she doesn't, she plays more than I do. A few weeks ago, she asked me if I had a problem with her spending a lot of time playing the game with an online friend, who happens to be male. I said that as long as he was "just a friend," it was no problem. Over the past few weeks, however, I noticed behavioral changes in her that made me think something was amiss, so I read her game logs on her computer to assure myself that their relationship was "just friends."
Long story short, I found enough in the logs to become very upset. I confronted her, and she admitted that she is in love with the online guy! She says she also loves me, is confused and doesn't want to hurt either one of us. I love her, and the thought of her leaving makes me ill, but I want her to be happy. I also want her to hurry and make a decision because the stress of not knowing if she will leave me for him is killing me. But she doesn't want to be rushed into making a decision. — Nice Guy Who Doesn't Want To Finish Last

Dear Nice: I am having trouble with this. Your wife is playing an online game and thinks she's fallen in love with Online Gamer Guy? Sheesh, it doesn't take much, does it? The Internet being, well, the Internet, for all she knows, her game-boy could be an elderly lady who writes romance novels. No offense, but your mate doesn't sound as though she's wrapped real tight. Either that, or there's not much going on in your marriage. It just seems addled to me that anyone could think she's fallen in love with an unseen partner playing a computer game ... and she's telling you to hang on until she decides. I think if this happened to me, I would begin a new game called "Let's Separate." But in your case, I would suggest you both stop with the video games and instead go to a couples counselor to see what is wrong and what can be salvaged.
— Margo, amazedly

Amazedly? Frankly, I'm amazed that she's amazed. Although of course it's true that people can embrace imaginary identities online, and some do, that's no longer the majority of folk. Most people, it seems, no longer have a clear divide between their real and virtual lives, but rather find their online presence--on blogs, social networking sites, gaming communities, message boards, etc.--to be more or less integrated, and indeed a major facet of, their "real" lives.

Child molesters posing as teens trying to pick up other minors? Yes, still (and always) a legitimate danger. Extrapolating that to predict that a longtime gamer is in fact an elderly woman pretending to be a man playing a game....? Come on, Margo. Get real. The situation this writer is in is hardly uncommon. In fact, these days, marriages wrecked by very real virtual affairs are probably far more common than affairs wrecked by false identities.

"It just seems addled to me that anyone could think she's fallen in love with an unseen partner playing a computer game ... " shows a total ignorance of the changing social world in which she lives....which I can only imagine will leave her readers wondering why she has any business advising about it.

The Family Budget

This column wins for "random fact" of the week. Just when I thought Margo was being, um, normal, she tosses this in!:

Dear Margo: I am 20 and have been lucky in life ... growing up in nice neighborhoods, going to good schools, having parents who were successful financially. I am about to get my B.A. and then work full time at a good job. My wonderful boyfriend is 22 and has been less fortunate. He was raised by an amazing single mother who worked two jobs to support four children. They are from a low-income, mostly Latino community, where the schools were poor. As a result, life has been harder for him. Unlike my parents, who have given me money to save, he's had to work full time, living paycheck to paycheck. Because of this, he'd been out of school for a short while, but has started working on his degree again. The problem is my parents. They say he's riding my coattails and taking advantage of me, and that once we've been cohabiting long enough, he's going to take half of what I have. The things they say come off as classist and even racist, and they both know that their remarks offend and hurt me deeply. Should I tell my parents to take a hike? I want to maintain a good relationship with them and my boyfriend, but they're making it difficult. In some ways, I feel that they should have a say in what I do because much of the money I have saved came from them. What can I do?

— Head Over Heels in Phoenix

Dear Head: I, too, think parents should have a say in a child's life (and not because they have supplied money), but any child who is a reasonably mature 20 should be allowed to evaluate what it is the parents have to say. I suspect you have things pegged right. Your beau sounds as though he was well, if not lavishly, raised, and your relationship sounds like perfection. I suspect your parents are using stereotypical prejudices to deduce that your young man will never amount to anything. I don't have to look very far to counter their thinking.

My own father had to work from the age of 13 and dropped out of school in the 10th grade. With smarts and drive and no higher education, his life worked out; he was the founder of Budget Rent A Car. So go with your gut and stick with your fella. — Margo, intuitively

Yes, yes, yes, yes, um.....what?

Ann Landers and Mr. Budget: America's top 1950s power couple?

SK adds, with great contempt for Margo:
"[snort] Speaking of riding on coattails...."

~Margo, Uselessly

Margo's downward spiral continues: she's given up snarkiness and ill-advised advice (like reducing yourself to the level of the jerk who sex-texts his ex--say that five times fast-- or alerting your cousin to the fact that you dislike his fiancee through a petition) and now doesn't even bother trying to answer a perfectly legitimate question:

Dear Margo: I've read numerous advice columns over the years dealing with people overhearing neighbors who are noisy lovers. Well, I'm one of those noisy lovers and I don't know what to do. I live in a duplex with what I thought were relatively thick walls, but apparently they're not as thick as I thought! (Got a nice note from my neighbor, but I was still mortified.) I have a boyfriend with whom I have a phenomenal sex life, and unfortunately, we both are quite vocal during our lovemaking. I really don't know what to do about keeping the noise level down. Moving is not an option. Suggestions? — Princess

Dear Prin: Soundproof tiles on the common walls? Short of wearing muzzles, that's about all I can think of — and I'm not even sure there is such a thing for humans. Just thinking about this problem and mentioning muzzles, however, makes it a certainty that the next time I see a muzzled dog I will laugh. Good luck. — Margo, remedially

OK, ok, so the writer bragging about her "phenomenal" sex life and calling herself "Princess" don't exactly make me want to rush to her aid, either. But one advantage of the advice column is that all readers have the opportunity to benefit from the columnist's answer. For that reason (and to guard against giving dangerously inaccurate advice) when advice columnists don't have an answer, it is their responsibility (and to their benefit) to seek expert insight. The best columnists have a number of "guest experts" in their back pocket--often doctors, psychologists, and authors--to whom they turn when a tough question comes up.

In this case, a phone call to a landlord or property manager, or even an informal discussion with pretty much anyone who has ever lived in close quarters with others, would have been helpful.

At first glance it just seems like Margo was lazy, but her conclusion about muzzles and dogs implies either a total contempt for the issue at hand, or a total discomfort with it (possibly both)--she's snickering like a junior high boy. "I'm not even sure there is such a thing for humans"? You don't have to be into adventurous sex to know that of course there is. And even if you're not of the mindset to recommend the use of toys and tools that limit noise (who knows--for this couple that might be a perfect solution), it's unnecessary and inappropriate to compare everyone with intimate relationships and thin walls to dogs in need of muzzles, and to write off their concern for neighborly relations as a joke.

I myself have not checked in with an "expert" either, but just off the top of my head, I think any of the following, while not perfect solutions, would be more productive than Margo's non-answer:

-responding to the neighbor with a polite-but-funny note and a pair of earplugs
-playing music or turning on the TV while they're getting it on to mitigate the noise
-um, trying to be quieter, at least some of the time? They might find it adds to the thrill...
-experimenting with different areas of the duplex that might be better buffered or farther way from common walls
-hanging curtains or draperies in the bedroom to absorb some of the sound
-educating themselves about local or neighborhood noise ordinances--if the neighbor gets really pissed off, who is he likely to report to, and could actual consequences result (like the humiliation of being exposed--as it were--to the whole neighborhood at a condo association meeting)? Surely it's not the same as throwing a wild party that can be heard around the block, but if their neighbor has the power to bring the complaint to a higher authority, they should consider who and what that might be, and how they'd respond in that case.

Also, as a final note, Margo's sign-off makes no sense. "Margo, remedially." Remedially? What? I would have written, "Margo, abdicatingly," "Margo, blushingly," or as my title suggsts, "Margo, uselessly." But that's just me.

Flipping the bird...at Margo

Ever since Margo's whiny "open letter to Amy Dickinson" a few weeks ago, I've had less and less patience with her. Especially when she's neither sympathetic nor helpful. Like today:

Dear Margo: After 29 years together, 26 of them married, my parents are getting divorced. My father has always been a functioning alcoholic who a few years ago ceased to function. His life was down to watching TV and drinking. My mother eventually tired of his refusal to do anything and his constant complaining when he actually had to leave the house. She moved in with me while looking for a new home and has never been happier in her life. She laughs, goes out, has a few drinks two nights a week with friends, and has even started dating. My father is devastated. He drinks more, calls my mother "to make sure she's OK" and calls me repeatedly if she doesn't answer the phone. He lies to my younger brother (who is away at school) and tells him she drinks too much and is never home. My brother is angry and resentful with my mother and me. My father is a train wreck — he has admitted he was unhappy before she left, but doesn't understand why they shouldn't be miserable together. I've begged him to talk to someone, but he "doesn't want to air their dirty laundry." My mother tries to keep me out of the middle, but my father is determined to put me right there. In the process, he's destroying our usually close family. I don't know what to do. I love them both, but I'm being pulled in three directions!
— Tugged Too Far

Dear Tug: First, hurray for your mother. After 29 years with Jim Beam, she can at last have a life. Second, your brother, unless he was anesthetized while living at home, should know enough family history to take your word over your father's, and if you've not set him straight, you should. About all you can do for your father is to tell him your mom is doing well, and now that his life is essentially ruined, he might want to consider getting some help of the AA variety.
The "dirty laundry" excuse won't wash, pardon the pun. I believe you can end being the bird in a badminton game if you are firm in what you say. — Margo, perseveringly

Really Margo? The friggin' birdie? What does that even mean? And in what way is getting smacked from all sides is better than getting tugged three directions? Her response is useless on multiple levels: it doesn't make the writer feel better, it doesn't give any concrete help and her metaphor totally falls apart (boooo!). Tell off/ignore everyone in the family? That will work well, especially since mom is living-in and dad won't stop calling. And no suggestion of any support (friends? family? neighbors? clergy? counseling? Al-Anon?Journaling? Kick-boxing?) for this person who is clearly trying to remain the (only) stable hub in this family?

The evidence suggests this person is about my age, give or take a year or tow. Now, I don't know much, but I know that if my parents suddenly split, my mom moved in with me, my dad was a wreck and my brother was abdicating all supportive duties by kicking and screaming in denial, I would need a LOT more guidance and a LOT more solace than Margo gives here. As Mr. Knightley says.....Badly done.

ADVICE COLUMNIST SMACKDOWN!

It seems Amy's been getting a great deal of publicity for her new book, and perhaps (according to some) riding the coattails of her predecessor, Ann Landers, a little too closely. Ann Landers' daughter, Margo, has plenty to say about it, and she did so in today's column. HOLY COW! The Etta James/Beyonce @** whooping scandal is nothing compared to this. It's too late at night to dissect and analyze, so for now I'll just link and post. But whoa--right down to the icy "dear" in the last line.

Dear Amy: I have a problem. My distress has actually been going on since 2002, the year my mother died. As many people know, my mother was Ann Landers, and she was Ann Landers for 47 years. That's a long time to build a brand … and build a brand she did.

Because the name "Ann Landers" was iconic in the second half of the 20th century, people often tell me whenever they hear or see the name now — seven years after her death. Alas, mostly they are hearing it from you. And therein lies my problem.

Most recently you did some television promotion on "Good Morning, America," "The View" and God knows where else. You allowed people, if not encouraged them, to consider you "the new Ann Landers." Well, you are not the "new" Ann Landers because there is no "new" Ann Landers. It is a copyrighted name and trademark, and what that means is that no one else can use it — not to write under, and not to promote themselves.

Before they had fired most everyone at the Tribune (your home paper), a few top editors were informed that introducing you as "the new Ann Landers" was skating close to copyright infringement.They backed off — for a while. But then (because the newspaper business is in trouble and you are flogging a book?) there began yet another round of publicity touting you as the new, well … you know.

In short, when the Tribune hired and syndicated you, that made you their new advice columnist, period. You are no more "the new Ann Landers" than Carolyn Hax, Dan Savage or any of the dozens of advice columnists who were bought by newspapers to fill the space previously occupied by my mother.

By law, the only person who would have been able to become "the new Ann Landers" was me. And that was nothing I chose to do. You see, dear, even I knew that there could only be one Ann Landers. — Margo Howard

Ok, I do have to add just one thing. I looked up the Trib's bio of Amy, to see what they really said about her. Most of the bio lists Amy's many experiences and accomplishments as a journalist, writer, and radio contributor. They mentioned Ann Landers once, as a segue--to say that Amy's column replaced hers is simply fact, not promotion, and I think they were nothing less than respectful and accurate in how they stated it. The potentially offensive paragraph is:

Amy Dickinson joined Chicago Tribune in July 2003 as the newspaper's signature general advice columnist, following in the tradition of the legendary Ann Landers.

I smell a copyright suit! Oh wait, that's just some burning plastic....

**Days later: burning plastic? What? What did I mean by that? Oh well.**