Yesterday, as you may have noticed, the gravity of the Ukrainian/whistleblower situation compelled Trump to hold his first formal presser since forever.
Odd that the figurehead of “the most transparent administration ever” only took four questions. And LOL, he told the army of journos the type of questions he wanted.
Specifically, near the very end, he said, “An economic question. I want a question about the economy.”
Watching that I had an epiphany. The next time The Good Wife asks “if we can talk,” I’m going to say “Yes, of course.” Then I’m going full on 45.
“A popular culture question. I want a question about current movies.” Or maybe, “A sports question. I want a question about UCLA’s miraculous comeback against Wazzu.” Or “A weather question. I want a question about the forecast for this weekend.”
And then, when she tries to pivot to feelings, “Thank you, that’s all the time we have.”
The week that was. Ukraine v Russia. Israel v Palestine. Syria v the Islamic State group. Too many lives cut short, too many families torn asunder.
If only we could substitute bloodless literary tussles for the violent ones that dominate the headlines.
For that to happen, we need provocative essay writers willing to ruffle readers’ feathers. Enter Tom Junod of Esquire. I’m guessing he was caught off-guard by just how many feathers his essay “In Praise of 42 Year-Old Women” ruffled.
Men have a lot more trouble, I think, admitting their fear of aging and death than women do. In my experience, women are more openly verbal, at least, about our terror. Typically, men either joke about it or have affairs or splurge on a sports car (these are stereotypes, so fill in your own experience of men here). But they rarely write about the terror of aging honestly. . .
But men are just as terrified as women of aging and dying. . . . How could they not be? They’re human. It’s just that they talk about it in a different way than women do. They talk about it by talking about women’s . . . fading attractiveness. And most men’s magazines—-unlike most women’s magazines—-aren’t filled with articles that expressly address aging graciously, painfully, or at all.
Men’s magazines, like Esquire, are filled with articles like Junod’s, articles in which men talk about how it’s okay with them for women to age. Just a little. And then a little more. And then a little more. Men are writing about death and aging, but they’re just writing about it by writing about us.
Checkoway’s response to Junod is direct, caring, specific, and philosophically rich. And her analysis rings true.