Midlife Crisis Management

I’m sure this will draw a few gasps from some of you, but I have been feeling extremely restless lately. Kind of like a cat on a hot tin roof. And I hate cats. Here’s the thing: I no longer want to be a mom/wife in the traditional sense. I mean I am fine with the sex and the conversation; it’s just the day to day aspect of the job.  And it is a job. This in no way means that I don’t love my husband and my two teenage sons. On the contrary, I love them so much, but sometimes I wonder if I was really cut out to be a “wife/mom” and all that entails.

The Idea of an Ideal Wife

Over the past twenty-something years of marriage, I have thought a lot about what makes an ideal wife. As a teenager, I always had more male friends than female. I think this is because I can relate to men better than women. I think more like a man. I was a tomboy as a child. I had road-racing sets, Kenner girder and panel highway construction sets, Lincoln Logs. I loved arguing with and competing against boys because I liked beating them. Beating a girl at anything did not thrill me. I recently learned how to trap-shoot with a twenty gauge shotgun. I loved it. When I was in my forties, I got my black belt in Karate. I loved sparring with twenty-something men. I watch so much football that my husband quips, “Haven’t you watched enough football this weekend, Margot?” I would rather go out or order in than cook. I don’t really like long walks on the beach. I don’t really like long walks. I drink. I swear.

Afflatus: It’s Elusive to Me

Afflatus is defined by Webster’s Dictionary as “a divine imparting of knowledge or power: inspiration”. I had never seen this word until I read my son’s college essay. I was slightly embarrassed that I needed to look up a word used in a teenager’s writing. Of course, I did not mention it to him. When did our kids become smarter than we are?  I can easily say that when I was seventeen, no divine knowledge was imparted upon me. Inspiration never drove the way I wrote. I did whatever assignment I was given, but without too much introspection. I was too busy deciding what to do over the weekend. But today, at least in this house, the essays and creative writing that come from two teenage boys are truly remarkable. I know that the school they attend has a lot to with it…urging them to “unpack the imagery” of the literature they read…as well as other pretentious and perhaps unnecessary instructions. A better explanation is that they are simply more creative, more inspired, and definitely more resourceful than I was at their ages.

Do You Hear the People Sing?

“Do you hear the people sing, singing a song of angry men?

It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again.

When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums,

There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!”

 

For a few weeks now, I have had the songs from Les Miz running through my head at all hours of the day and night. Some nights they keep me awake. I find myself singing silently as I struggle to sleep. Well, I can’t purge the music; nor do I want to. I spent Tuesday night in Grant Park, Chicago, with a quarter million others and I felt that we were a revolution of sorts. A peaceful revolution. A convergence of disparate souls with a common goal. Reaching, reaching, reaching for two years now…on the campaign trail…in our homes…at schools…at work…on the streets of our cities…we and the millions and millions of other Obama supporters around the globe who are finished with traditional American government. 

photo: Ken Solomon

Paper vs. Plastic: The Country Picks a President

Many Americans face one particular dilemma every time they go to the grocery store. Should they request paper bags or plastic bags? I’d like to compare this to the dilemma many Americans may have when they go to the polls next Tuesday. Let me see if I can help these voters out of their quandary.

Facebook Nation: Are We Losing Touch? by Margot Calabrese

A number of years ago, I was having dinner with some friends at a now defunct steak place in L.A. I remember a conversation we were having that night (over very dry martinis) that's stayed with me ever since. We were discussing the effects of technology on the ability to communicate verbally and physically and I put forth a hypothesis that the human race would eventually evolve into beings that did not need human touch.